misgivings, because the dance was involved and one used a number of
different steps, but the girl guided him through its intricacies and when
he took her back signed him to sit down. He obeyed, for Francisca
Sarmiento had an imperious air. Other young men came up when the music
began again, but passed on, and Kit imagined the girl had made them
understand they were to do so since one or two frowned at him.

"Well," she said, looking at him across her fan, "how do you like
this country?"

"It has many attractions," Kit replied.

"But some drawbacks?"

"The drawbacks are not very obvious now."

"Ah," she said, giving him a mocking glance, "for an Englishman, you are
polite, but it looks as if you were as cautious as I thought."

"I'm flattered that you thought about me at all." Kit rejoined.

She laughed and played with her fan. "Oh, well; we are curious about
strangers, particularly when they are friends of the president's. One
wonders why they come."

"I imagine most of us come to get money."

"In this country, one gets nothing unless one runs some risk, and you are
cautious," Francisca remarked.

Kit noted her insistence on this trait of his. He thought her remarks had
a meaning that did not appear on the surface.

"I wonder what grounds you have for thinking so," he said.

"Are they not obvious?" she answered. "Not long since you hesitated to
pick up a sprig of heliotrope."

"I durst not think the compliment was meant for me."

Francisca glanced at him with quiet amusement. "You are modest, senor; it
looks as if you had a number of virtues. For one thing, I imagine you are
honest, and honesty is not very common here." She paused and resumed in a
meaning tone: "It is a drawback, if one wants to get rich."

"I don't know that my character is worth your study," Kit replied
carelessly.

"You are of some importance, senor. Although I have admitted that you are
modest, it is strange you do not know."

"Why should I know?" Kit asked.

Francisca studied him over her ebony fan, which hid half her face and
emphasized the curious glow of her black eyes. "I do not think you are as
dull as you pretend. Have you not been experimented on recently?"

"I think I have," said Kit. "After all, a gold onza is not a great
temptation. I found another--a spray of heliotrope--harder to resist."

"But you did resist!" she replied in a quiet voice.

"Yes," said Kit, fixing his eyes on her face. "I am an adventurer like