family, though
it's nice to have it if you can. We think more of education and getting on
in the world. Senor, I wish you would get down and look at that engine;
there's something awfully wrong with it."

Polly spoke suddenly for Juan Pachuca was leaning very close to her.

"Your young ladies are charming," he said, softly. "I had always heard it
and now I know it is true." His black eyes were dancing; it would have
taken some guessing to know whether with excitement or laughter or both.
"Do they ever forget themselves so far as to allow themselves a love
affair on a silver night when----"

"No, they do not," said Polly, half severely and half amused. It was
difficult to take Juan Pachuca's rudeness seriously and yet--oh, why had
she come?

"Not a desperate, hot-headed love affair such as pleases the young ladies
of my country," he pursued, seizing the hand so near him. "But one of
those--what do you call them in your tongue--flirtations?"

He was laughing but there was a smoldering fire back of the laughter, and
the grasp of his hand was strong.

"Senor, now please--remember that I didn't come with you because I wanted
to, but because I had to! Please!" For Pachuca's arm had slid itself
deftly around her and was drawing her toward him, gently, but with an
exceeding firmness, while the dancing dark eyes continued to laugh into
hers. "There, see what you've done!"

The big car had given a most unwieldy lurch, wedged a tire in a rut,
bounced a couple of times, and stopped--providentially--on the edge of the
deep gully that fringed the road.

"It is nothing," declared the young man, a bit stunned by the suddenness
of the affair. The car, however, refusing to back, gave him the lie. Polly
tore herself from his detaining arm and was out in the road.

"If you had an electric torch I could tell you what it is," she said,
trying to control both nerves and temper, for she was both frightened and
angry. "Have you?"

"I think so," replied Pachuca, a little stiffly. "But, please, dear lady,
do not get down in the dirt! I beg of you!"

"I don't mind. I know every little pain an engine can have. I drove an
emergency car at home during the war," said Polly, curtly.

"Indeed?" Juan Pachuca's voice was cool. The young lady was
business-like--too business-like to flirt with--and yet----

"No, it's not that." Polly shook the curls out of her eyes and slammed the
cover of the radiator. "Where do you think it is? You ought to