He had seen what she was capable of, and he suspected that she was ambitious. It was her love of solitude and dislike of mere men and women that had swathed her so deeply in her crudities; but if she carried out her intention of living for some years in England and Europe, and cultivated the right sort of people, the transformation was almost certain. Perhaps it would be worth while to ask his mother to take care of her in England. Lady “Peggy” Over was a clever, warm-hearted woman of the simple, old-fashioned aristocracy, who offered her sons no assistance in choosing their wives, and had the broadest tolerance for the vagaries of young people. With her lively mind and humor she would win upon Catalina at once, and her complete honesty of nature would finish the conquest of a girl whose hatred of sham was almost fanatical. Catalina opened her eyes upon him, half awake, and he asked her, impulsively: “What is your ambition? What do you want?” She answered, sleepily, but without hesitation, “To have four children.” He was too astonished to speak for a moment; then he asked, feebly, “Is that all?” “No,” she said, now quite awake. “I want to meet all the most interesting people in the world, and read the most interesting books, and show a lot of other people what frauds and useless creatures they are; but I love children as much as I detest most people, and I’ll never be contented till I have four. I don’t see why you look so dumfounded! What is there so remarkable in wanting children?” “Oh, nothing,” he said, soothingly. “Perhaps we can see Toledo in a moment.” Mr. Moulton met them at the station. His face was flushed and his manner perturbed, but he shook their hands cordially and protested that he had never been so glad to lay eyes on any one. “Let us walk up,” said Catalina, and she strode on ahead. The men followed, Mr. Moulton talking with nervous volubility. “Of course I did not blame you, my dear Catalina,” he reiterated. “Such a contretemps in Spain is easy enough. Mrs. Moulton is still a little upset, but you know what—er—invalids are, and I beg you to be patient—” “It won’t worry me in the least. But why this change of front? Why didn’t you come to Baeza?”