ng a new door
in her heart, so to speak.

For the rest, the life in Mexico City was gay, especially in the
position which she filled as the niece of the British Minister, who was
often called upon to act as hostess, as her aunt was delicate and her
cousin was younger than herself and not apt at the business. There were
Diaz and the foreign Diplomatic Ministers; also the leading Mexicans to
be entertained, for which purpose she learned Spanish. Then there were
English travellers, distinguished, some of them, and German nobles,
generally in the Diplomatic Service of their country, whom by some
peculiar feminine instinct of her own, she suspected of being spies and
generally persons of evil intentions. Also there was the British
colony, among whom were some very nice people that she made her
friends, the strange, adventurous pioneers of our Empire who are to be
bound in every part of the world, and in a sense its cream.

Lastly, there were the American tourists and business men, many of whom
she thought amusing. One of these, a millionaire who had to do with a
"beef trust," though what that might be she never quite understood,
proposed to her. He was a nice young fellow enough, of a real old
American family whose ancestors were supposed to have come over in the
_Mayflower_, and possessed of a remarkable vein of original humour;
also he was much in love. But Isobel would have none of it, and said so
in such plain, unmistakable language that the millionaire straightway
left Mexico City in his private railway car, disconsolately to pursue
his beef speculations in other lands.

On the day that he departed Isobel received a note from him which ran:

"I have lost you, and since I am too sore-hearted to stay in this
antique country and conclude the business that brought me here, I
reckon that I have also lost 250,000 dollars. That sum, however, I
would gladly have given for the honour and joy of your friendship,
and as much more added. So I think it well spent, especially as it
never figured in my accounts. Good-bye. God bless you and whoever
it may be with whom you are in love, for that there is someone I
am quite sure, also that he must be a good fellow."

From which it will be seen that this millionaire was a very nice young
man. So, at least, thought Isobel, though he did write about her being
in love with someone, which was the rankest nonsense. In love, indeed!
Why, she had never met a man for whom she c