g the hot hours of the day a curtain was
suspended before the shop to ward off the powerful rays of the sun,
under whose influence the delicate goods within might otherwise be
prematurely dried, while the effect would be equally detrimental to
their fair vendor. The easy mode of access, assisted by the narrow
kerbstone, together with many attractions within the shop, tempted many
passers to drop in for a chat and a cigar. There was a little counter,
with little pyramidal heaps of cigarette packets and cigars, of the
genuine Havana brand, distributed upon it. Affixed to a wall at the back
was a glass show-case, fitted with shelves like a book-case, and laden
with bundles of the precious leaves, placed like volumes side by side,
and bound in bright yellow ribbon. Although Miralda was visited from
morning till night by every kind of male, black and brown, as well as
white, nothing was ever said against the virtue of the young
tobacconist.

Like the cigars she sold, Miralda was of 'calidad superior;' and, in the
same manner, age had rather improved her quality than otherwise, for it
had ripened her into a charming full-grown woman of sixteen tropical
summers. Some merit was due to Miralda for the respectable life she led;
for, besides the temptations to which she was daily and hourly
subjected, she was quite alone in the world, her parents, brothers, and
sisters being dead. Miralda naturally found many admirers among her
numerous customers; she, however, made no distinction with them, but had
a bright smile and a kind word for all who favoured her with their
praises and their patronage. One alone, perhaps, held a place nearer her
heart than all others. This was Don Pedro Mantanez, a young boatman
employed in the harbour near the Morro Castle. Pedro was of good white
parentage, though one would not have judged so from the colour of his
skin, which, from long exposure to the sun and the weather, had turned
a pale coffee colour. Pedro loved Miralda fondly, and she was by no
means indifferent to the handsome Creole. But the pretty tobacconist was
in no hurry to wear the matrimonial chains. The business, like herself,
was far from old-established, and she thought in her capacity of a
married woman the attractions of her shop would diminish by at least
one-half, while her patrons would disappear in the same ratio. Miralda
once made her lover a promise that she would marry him as soon as he
should have won a prize in the lottery;