"And his fertility of expression!" added Padre Salvi.

"Do you know that Senor Ibarra has the best cook in the
province?" remarked the alcalde, to cut short such talk.

"You may well say that, but his beautiful neighbor doesn't wish to
honor the table, for she is scarcely eating a bite," observed one of
the employees.

Maria Clara blushed. "I thank the gentleman, he troubles himself too
much on my account," she stammered timidly, "but--"

"But you honor it enough merely by being present," concluded the
gallant alcalde as he turned to Padre Salvi.

"Padre," he said in a loud voice, "I've observed that during the
whole day your Reverence has been silent and thoughtful."

"The alcalde is a great observer," remarked Fray Sibyla in a meaning
tone.

"It's a habit of mine," stammered the Franciscan. "It pleases me more
to listen than to talk."

"Your Reverence always takes care to win and not to lose," said the
alferez in a jesting tone.

Padre Salvi, however, did not take this as a joke, for his gaze
brightened a moment as he replied, "The alferez knows very well these
days that I'm not the one who is winning or losing most."

The alferez turned the hit aside with a forced laugh, pretending not
to take it to himself.

"But, gentlemen, I don't understand how it is possible to talk
of winnings and losses," interposed the alcalde. "What will these
amiable and discreet young ladies who honor us with their company
think of us? For me the young women are like the AEolian harps in the
middle of the night--it is necessary to listen with close attention
in order that their ineffable harmonies may elevate the soul to the
celestial spheres of the infinite and the ideal!"

"Your Honor is becoming poetical!" exclaimed the escribano gleefully,
and both emptied their wine-glasses.

"I can't help it," said the alcalde as he wiped his lips. "Opportunity,
while it doesn't always make the thief, makes the poet. In my youth
I composed verses which were really not bad."

"So your Excellency has been unfaithful to the Muses to follow Themis,"
emphatically declared our mythical or mythological correspondent.

"Pshaw, what would you have? To run through the entire social scale
was always my dream. Yesterday I was gathering flowers and singing
songs, today I wield the rod of justice and serve Humanity, tomorrow--"

"Tomorrow your Honor will throw the rod into the fire to warm yourself
by it in the winter of life, and take an app