He shows her the curious jewel, like opaque amber sprinkled with gold dust. "It is very curious and interesting," says Mrs. Steele. "Indeed it is," I agree; "thank you very much." But I scarcely see the Inca eye; I am looking into his and trying to read his face. "Zo, Senorita, dthough you go far nordthvard dthe Inca's eye from Peru ees still upon you; I haf send him to take care off ... dthe _pearl_. Gude-bye--Gude-bye, Madame!" The tall figure turns away, and in a moment is gone. "Why, Blanche, what is the matter?" Mrs. Steele's voice is sharp with concern. I try to smile and instinctively my hand goes to my tightened throat. "My poor child, do you care?" "How absurd!" I say, with what scorn I can command. "Care about _what_, anyhow?" "Senorita!" The handsome face of the Peruvian looks in at an open window near the far end of the car. A bell rings, the conductor shouts some warning in Spanish. In the din I run to the window and the Baron holds up a bunch of roses. "Dthink dthe best you can of me, Blanca; I vill loaf you all my life." The look of suffering in the wonderful dark eyes brings the lump again to my throat. I take the roses and I know my eyes are misty. "Thank you, Guillermo; it won't be hard to think good things of you...." I feel a warning hand on my shoulder. It is Mrs. Steele, and the touch recalls all my resolutions. "I shall always remember.... Good-bye!" The train moves off, the Baron steps back with that same look in his face, and lifts his hat. His courtesy shows at the last some flaw, for, although Mrs. Steele is there, his lips and eyes say only: "Gude-bye, Blanca!"