my lips. It was not my father who had
entered, but Rosa Montilla, the young daughter of a famous Spanish
officer. She was nearly a year younger than myself, and a frequent
visitor at our house. Often we had gone together for a row on the
lake, or for a gallop on our ponies round the park.

She was very pretty, with deep blue eyes and fair hair, quite unlike
most Spanish girls, and generally full of fun and good spirits. Now,
however, she was very pale and looked frightened. I noticed, too, that
she had no covering on her head or shoulders, and that she had not
changed the thin slippers worn in the house.

These things made me curious and uneasy. I feared some evil had
befallen her father, and knew not how to act. On seeing me she made a
little run forward, and, bursting into tears, cried, "O Juan, Juan!"
using, as also did my mother, the Spanish form of my name.

Now, being only a boy, and being brought up for the most part among
boys, I was but a clumsy comforter, though I would have done anything
to lessen her grief.

"What is it, Rosa?" I asked; "what has happened?" But for answer she
could only wring her hands and cry, "O Juan, Juan!"

"Do not cry, Rosa!" I said, and then doing what I should have done in
the first place, led her toward the drawing-room, where my mother was.
"Mother will comfort you. Tell her all about it," I said confidently,
for it was to my mother I always turned when things went wrong.

On this her tears fell faster, but she came with me, and together we
entered the room.

"Juan!" cried my mother.--"Rosa! what is the matter? Why are you
crying? But come to me, darling;" and in another moment she was
pressing the girl to her bosom.

At a sign from her I left the room, but did not go far away. Rosa's
action was so odd that I waited with impatience to hear the reason.
She must have left her home hurriedly and unobserved, since it was an
unheard-of thing that the daughter of Don Felipe Montilla should be out
on foot and unattended. I was sure that should her father discover it
he would be greatly annoyed. The whole affair was so mysterious that I
could make nothing of it. The girl's sobs were more under control now,
and she began to speak. As she might not wish me to hear her story, I
walked away, meaning to chat with Antonio at the gate, and to await my
father's return.

He might not come for hours yet, as it was still early evening, but I
hoped he would, and the more so