enorita
can put upon the head God made--costs in this land of Spain. Twice--three
times what it would be elsewhere, so travelled women say, and to have a
smart one is necessary a trip at least to Biarritz. As for Dona Rosita,
she is old-fashioned, and always wears the mantilla; indeed, on her
wedding tour to Paris she had to buy her first hat in Marseilles, she
says; for thirty years ago, you could hardly find one in Spain. Now, most
of the ladies in Madrid wear hats, except for the bull-fight; but in dear
Seville, it's different. I shall no longer have a headache with the
hatpins which pinch these hairs of mine. Santa Maria Purisima, you shall
see what you shall see."

She spoke as if to me; but she glanced at Dick, who--though he had still to
pose as the owner of the car--was growing fond of the tonneau, while Ropes
drove. Woe betide Don Cipriano if he had seen that glance!

By and by we turned off the main road at Cetafe, and got caught by closed
bars at a railway crossing.

"We shall probably be here an hour, and might as well lunch," said the
Cherub resignedly; but when a humble-looking luggage train had crept in,
it was so impressed with our air of superior importance that, to our
surprise, it backed out rather than obstruct our honourable path; and the
gates were wheeled back for us to pass in front of the engine's polite
little nose.

It was a spin of but fifty miles from Madrid to the olive plantations (the
first I'd seen in Spain) near Toledo; but the road surface was not of
velvet; and we had often to slow down for animals who hated, because they
did not understand, that most faithful and loyal of beasts, the
automobile. Therefore it was close upon one o'clock when the noble old
town rose in wild majesty before us on its granite, horseshoe hill,
girdled by the dark gold bed of the Tagus.

Madrid seen from afar off had scarcely been impressive, but this Rome of
Spain--though we did not approach it by way of the world-famous bridge--was
grander than any picture had led me to believe.

We had seen nothing of the grey car yet, not even a cloud of dust, but we
knew it must be here, and everyone of us looked forward to watching the
face of the Duke when we should march into the dining-room of the best
hotel, where by this time he and his party were probably about to lunch.

In a few minutes I should see Monica, perhaps be as near to her as at the
_fonda_ of the Escurial. That was the thought most absorbing;