n, who was mayor of Alcira many times."

At last he had let it out! The poor fellow had been dying to reveal his
name, tell who he was, pronounce that magic word so influential in the
District, certain it would be the "Open Sesame" to that wonderful
stranger's grace! After that, perhaps, she would tell him who she was!
But the lady commented on his declaration with an "Ah!" of cold
indifference. She did not show that his name was even known to her,
though she did sweep him with a rapid, scrutinizing, half-mocking glance
that seemed to betray a hidden thought:

"Not bad-looking, but what a dunce!"

Rafael blushed, feeling he had made a false step in volunteering his
name with the pompousness he would have used toward some bumpkin of the
region.

A painful silence followed. Rafael was anxious to get out of his plight.
That glacial indifference, that disdainful courtesy, which, without a
trace of rudeness, still kept him at a distance, hurt his vanity to the
quick. But since there was no stopping now, he ventured a second
question:

"And are you thinking of remaining in Alcira very long?..."

Rafael thought the ground was giving way beneath his feet. Another
glance from those green eyes! But, alas, this time it was cold and
menacing, a livid flash of lightning refracted from a mirror of ice.

"I don't know ..." she answered, with a deliberateness intended to
accentuate unmistakable scorn. "I usually leave places the moment they
begin to bore me." And looking Rafael squarely in the face she added,
with freezing formality, after a pause:

"Good afternoon, sir."

Rafael was crushed. He saw her turn toward the doorway of the sanctuary
and call her maid. Every step of hers, every movement of her proud
figure, seemed to raise a barrier in front of him. He saw her bend
affectionately over the sick orchard-woman, open a little pink bag that
her maid handed her, and, rummaging about among some sparkling trinkets
and embroidered handkerchiefs, draw out a hand filled with shining
silver coins. She emptied the money into the apron of the astonished
peasant girl, gave something as well to the recluse, who was no less
astounded, and then, opening her red parasol, walked off, followed by
her maid.

As she passed Rafael, she answered the doffing of his hat with a barely
perceptible inclination of her head; and, without looking at him,
started on her way down the stony mountain path.

The young man stood gazing after her thro