Eulalia put her black fan up to hide the smile on her lips, and intimated that she expected her aunt back on the morrow. Nothing was said of Dolores; but Jack was not so dull a lover as not to know that, in this case, the lesser Serafina included the greater Dolores. Meanwhile, neither Tim nor Philip could keep their eyes off this Spanish beauty, and Don Miguel graciously presented them to his daughter. As for Peter, he was examining an ugly clay god at the other end of the court, which showed that he had no eye for beauty. "At your feet, lady," said Philip, in his best Castillian. "My hands for your kisses, Señor," she responded, coquettishly, whereat the baronet felt a strange feeling about the region of his heart. "Oh, Lord, Lord!" he muttered, as Tim was executing court bows to the lady. "Great Heaven! this cannot be love at first sight. It must be the pulque." He caught Jack's eye at this moment, and saw a derisive smile on that young man's lips, whereat he smiled also, as if to intimate that he thought but little of the dainty beauty. Jack knew better, however. Then Peter was torn away from his Aztec deity, and presented in due form, making use, at the introduction, of all the Spanish of which he was master. "Bueno! Bueno!" quoth Peter, in perplexity, when Philip came to his rescue. "Say 'a los pies de usted,' Señora," he whispered quickly. "I can't remember all that," protested the doctor. "Try." "A los pres ud worsted!" Doña Eulalia put up her fan at the sound of Peter's Spanish; but understanding the drift of his remark, replied gravely enough: "Bése usted los manos, Señor." "What's that, Philip?" "My hands for your kisses, Señor." "Will I have to kiss them?" asked Peter, in dismay. "No; it's only a matter of form." At this assurance, the doctor was much relieved, and not feeling any profound interest in a dialogue carried on completely in a foreign tongue, returned to his examination of the Aztec gods. Maraquando was already deep in conversation with Jack and Tim, so Philip had Doña Eulalia all to himself, and made good use of this solitude of two. He was glad he knew Spanish. 'Tis a pleasant language in which to talk gay nonsense.