ment, and a little ashamed lest he should have seemed to have
been following an evident stranger. He vaguely remembered, too, that
there was a trail to the high road, through a little swale clothed
with myrtle and thorn bush which he had just passed, and that she was
probably one of his reserved and secluded neighbors--indeed, her dress,
in that uncertain light, looked half Spanish. This was more confusing,
since his rashness might have been taken for an attempt to force an
acquaintance. He wheeled and galloped towards the front of the casa as
the figure disappeared at the angle of the wall.

"I don't suppose you ever see any of our neighbors?" said Dick to his
aunt casually.

"I really can't say," returned the lady with quiet equanimity. "There
were some extraordinary-looking foreigners on the road to San Gregorio
yesterday. Manuel, who was driving me, may have known who they were--he
is a kind of Indian Papist himself, you know--but I didn't. They might
have been relations of his, for all I know."

At any other time Dick would have been amused at this serene relegation
of the lofty Estudillos and Peraltas to the caste of the Indian convert,
but he was worried to think that perhaps Cecily was really being bored
by the absence of neighbors. After dinner, when they sought the rose
garden, he dropped upon the little lichen-scarred stone bench by her
side. It was still warm from the sun; the hot musk of the roses filled
the air; the whole garden, shielded from the cool evening trade winds by
its high walls, still kept the glowing memory of the afternoon sunshine.
Aunt Viney, with her garden basket on her arm, moved ghost-like among
the distant bushes.

"I hope you are not getting bored here?" he said, after a slight
inconsequent pause.

"Does that mean that YOU are?" she returned, raising her mischievous
eyes to his.

"No; but I thought you might find it lonely, without neighbors."

"I stayed in to-day," she said, femininely replying to the unasked
question, "because I fancied Aunt Viney might think it selfish of me to
leave her alone so much."

"But YOU are not lonely?"

Certainly not! The young lady was delighted with the whole place, with
the quaint old garden, the mysterious corridors, the restful quiet of
everything, the picture of dear Aunt Viney--who was just the sweetest
soul in the world--moving about like the genius of the casa. It was
such a change to all her ideas, she would never forget it. It was s