s of base imaginings.

I say nothing of our hostess,--not that she lacked in beauty or charm;
but who looks at the moon when the sun is in the sky?

The dinner did not disappoint the expectations roused by the lavish
display of the household; though I cannot say that Mr. Blennerhasset's
wines compared well with those of President Jefferson, unless it might
be the Madeira.

Upon the withdrawal of the ladies, Mrs. Blennerhasset urged me so
cordially to join them soon, and Alisanda seconded the invitation with
so sweet a smile, that I did not linger at table above half an hour. My
going was hastened by the conjecture that our host and Don Pedro might
wish to resume their conference. That I was not mistaken in this was
evidenced by the fact that they did not follow me for two hours or more.

In the meantime I had been led up a spacious stairway to the
drawing-room, directly above where we had dined. The room was notable
for the stucco work of the rounded cornices and ceiling, and the
harmonious tones of the wall-hangings, of which those above the chair
rail were green, bordered with gold, and those below reddish gray.

My entrance found the ladies seated together at a large forte piano, in
the execution of a duet which gave full display alike to their
accomplished skill and to the genius of the composer, the noted German
musician Beethoven. After the duet, our hostess favored us with a
ballad, and Alisanda no less readily followed with a Castilian song in
the Spanish. Her voice, even better trained than Mrs. Blennerhasset's
fine high soprano, was a liquid contralto that had in it the murmur of
sparkling waters, the sweetness of silver bells, and the sadness of
tears. I was affected almost beyond self-control, and it was as much
this as the disability from my high cravat which forced me to decline my
turn.

At my request, the ladies returned to another round of duet and song,
and followed with the reverse,--playing solos and singing a duet. In the
end they persuaded me to join them in a trio, and afterwards were so
gracious as to compliment me on my baritone.

On the whole, it was the most heavenly evening I had ever known, and
when, upon the appearance of the other gentlemen, I begged my leave of
our hostess, it was to dance my way down to the boat on winged feet.
Such a feast of divine music and diviner beauty seldom falls to the lot
of mere mortals.

CHAPTER IX

MY INDIAN TALE

Dawn found me clad in m