"It is shocking, according to our Portuguese ideas," she said, demurely, "for a young lady and gentleman to be talking together for nearly three hours without anyone to look after them." "It is not at all shocking, according to Irish ideas," Terence said, laughing, "especially when the young lady and gentleman happen to be cousins." They walked a short time in silence, then she said: "I have obeyed you, Terence, and haven't uttered a word of thanks for what you have done for me." "That shows that you are a good girl," Terence laughed. "Good girls always do as they are told; at least they are supposed to, though as to the fact I never had any experience, for I have no sisters, and there were no girls in barracks; still, I am glad that you kept your promise, and hope that you will always do so. Being a cousin, of course it was natural that I should try to rescue you." "And you would not if I hadn't been a cousin?" "No, I don't say that. I dare say I should have tried the same if I had heard that any English or Irish girl was shut up here. I am sure I should if I had seen you beforehand." She coloured a little at the compliment, and said, lightly: "Father told me once that Irishmen were great hands at compliments. He told me that there was some stone that people went to an old castle to kiss--I think that he called it the Blarney Stone--and after that they were able to say all sorts of absurd things." "I have never kissed the Blarney Stone," Terence said, laughing. "If I wanted to kiss anything, it would be something a good deal softer than that." They were now entering the camp, and in a few minutes they arrived at the tent. "I began to think that you were lost, O'Connor," Herrara said, as they came up. "We had a lot to talk about," Terence replied. "My cousin has been insisting upon my telling her my whole history, and all about what has passed here since she was shut up a year ago, and, as you may imagine, it was rather a long story." A few minutes later they sat down on the ground to a meal in which roast pork was the leading feature. "This is what we call in England a picnic, señora," Terence said to Don Jose's wife. "A picnic," she repeated; "what does that mean? It is a funny word." "I have no idea why it should be called so," Terence said. "It means an open-air party. The ladies are supposed to bring the provisions, and the gentlemen the wine. Sometimes it is a boating party; at other times they drive in carriages to the spot agreed upon. It is always very jolly, and much better than a formal meal indoors, and you can play all sorts of tricks." "What sort of tricks, señor?"