Seeing Peter misunderstood, Doña Serafina skipped lightly across the azotea, flapping her arms, and singing. Then she turned towards the doctor, and nodded encouragingly. "Birds!" she said, confidently. "You eat them?" Now Peter knew that 'comida' meant eating; but quite certain that Doña Serafina did not devour beetles, set himself to work to show her what he really meant. He ran after imaginary butterflies round the azotea, and, in his ardour, bumped up against Tim. "What the devil are you after?" said Tim, displeased at his conversation with Maraquando being interrupted. "Why can't you behave yourself, you ill-conducted little person." "Do they eat beetles, here?" asked Tim, eagerly. "Beetles! they'd be thin, if they did," said Tim, drily. "I don't know. Do you eat beetles, Señor?" he added, turning to Don Miguel. The Spaniard made a gesture of disgust, and looked inquiringly at his sister. "Los pajaros," explained Doña Serafina, smiling. "Oh, 'tis birds she's talking about!" "Birds!" replied the doctor, blankly. "I thought I showed her butterflies. This way," and he began hovering round again. Tim roared. "They'll think you have gone out of what little mind you possess, Peter!" "Ah, pobrecito," said Serafina, when the meaning of the pantomime was explained, "I thought he was playing at a flying bird." "You'll never make your salt as an actor, Peter," jeered Tim, as they all laughed over the mistake. "I'd better call up Philip and Jack to keep you straight. Jack, come up here, and bring Philip with you." "All right," replied Jack, from the depths below, where they had been watching the performance with much amusement; "we are coming." The quartette soon made their appearance in the azotea, where Peter's mistake was explained. "Do it again, Peter," entreated Philip, laughing; "you have no idea how funny you look flopping about!" "I shan't," growled the doctor, ruffled. "Why can't they talk English?" "Doña Dolores can talk a little," said Jack, proudly "Señorita talk to my friend in his own tongue." "It is a nice day," repeated Doña Dolores, slowly; "'ow do you do?" "Quite well, thank you," replied Peter, politely; whereat his friends laughed again in the most unfeeling manner. "Oh, you can laugh," said Peter, indignantly; "but if I was in love with a girl, I would teach her some better words than about the weather, and how do you do!" "I have done so," replied Jack, quietly; "but those words are for private use." At this moment Dolores, laughing behind her fan, was speaking to Doña Serafina, who thereupon advanced towards Peter. "I can speak to the Americano," she announced to the company; then, fixing Peter with her eye, said, with a tremendous effort, "Darling!" "Oh!" said the modest Peter, taken aback, "she said, 'darling'!" "Darling!" repeated Serafina, who was evidently quite ignorant of the meaning.