the
hospital," she chuckled, "but I have always been able to tell whether
the Senor was speaking the truth or not. Thou knowest the way he has of
saying the opposite to that which he means," and she blew a ring of
smoke into the still air and watched it as it floated upwards.

"Concho," she said after some moments' reflection, "thou art a fool! I
always said thou wert, and now I know it. The hospital--bah! How could
he have ever thought me so simple?" she exclaimed in a tone of mingled
sarcasm and disgust. "I tell thee, Concho, all women are the same either
on this side of the world or the other. The one thou hast just described
to me is the most dangerous of all women for a man like the Senor to
meet. That is, if she is clever," she added. "But have we not all heard
how clever and beautiful the _Americana_ Senoritas are?"

"Aye, there is nothing to compare with them in the whole land, with the
exception of the Chiquita, of course," replied Concho.

"Exactly; just what I have been saying, Concho _mio_," Anita went on,
surveying her spouse with a look of pitying superiority. "Why, only
yesterday, when he was here, I knew instantly by his air of distraction
that something unusual had happened. Never has he been so particular
before. He went all over the place, inspecting everything to the
minutest detail, just like a woman. Nothing pleased him; and when he
came to the flowers, which everybody knows are the finest in all
Chihuahua, he declared they were not fit for a dog to sniff at, and
rated the gardeners soundly for their negligence.

"Ah!" she sighed, the expression of her countenance softening, "the
place needs a mistress badly--it is the one thing it lacks. There was a
time when I hoped it might be the Chiquita, but since fate has ordained
that it should be otherwise, let us pray that it may be this one. In
fact," she exclaimed, looking up and emphasizing her words, "from what
thou hast told me of her, I know it will be she or none, and may heaven
grant that it please the Saints either to give her to him or protect him
from her, for the Senor is a man who can really love but once. Take a
woman's word for it, Concho, these are the true symptoms of love."
Having delivered herself thus forcibly, she tossed aside the end of her
cigarette and rose from the doorsill.

"Thou wert always a fool, Concho," she added, regarding him
compassionately with a smile and patting him on the cheek. Then turning,
she disappeared in