s me sight again of Senorita
Vallois," I replied. "May this clear sky prove true augury of the voyage
we are to share!"

"May it prove true augury of clear sunshine to follow! These weeping
skies of England and your Republic! I long for a week of dry weather."
She shivered in her single-sleeved French cloak, whose white floss net
and tassels added little to the warmth of her gauzy muslins. As for her
head, even her light mantilla would have been more suitable to the
weather than the jaunty cap of velvet and tigerskin.

"You are cold!" I said. "There is a fire aboard our craft."

I drew her hand beneath my arm and started to lead her down the wharf as
a swarthy, hard-featured woman stepped from the carriage. The senorita
spoke a few words in Spanish, and the woman turned to help the driver
lift down the chests and boxes from behind, under the direction of Senor
Vallois.

Handing the senorita down into the boat's stern, I led her into the
living-room, or kitchen, and laid more fagots upon the fire which I had
kindled. In another moment I had her seated before the blaze, with a
blanket about her graceful shoulders. As I knelt to place a stool for
her little feet, she gazed down with the velvety eyes which had looked
out upon me from the coach window in Washington.

"_Maria purisima!_" she murmured. "There are tales of gallant knights--"

"Who served and adored their ladies!" I added.

She glanced about at her uncle, who was entering through the middle
room.

"_Madre de los Dolores!_" she called. "These physicians! Pray, reassure
him, my uncle. He is convinced I shall suffer a chill."

"Not after the precautions I have taken," I rejoined with professional
gravity as I rose. "The wonder is that Senorita Vallois has so long
survived the sudden changes of our seaboard climate. I know little of
temperatures abroad, but on this side of the Atlantic these thin Empire
gowns are sheer murder."

"Granted," replied the senor. "Yet as a physician you have doubtless
long since learned the futility of arguing the cut or material of a gown
with a woman."

"Only too well, senor! Fortunately every day will now carry us both
nearer a milder climate and nearer the Summer. Your chests are all
aboard?"

"All. And yours, senor?"

"Mine will be waiting on the wharf at Pittsburg. We will put in for it
as we drift past."

"It is well," he replied. I moved toward the outer door. "A moment, if
you please, doctor. We voyage togethe