should fall into wrong
hands, I repair at once to the house of my medical friend.

Don Francisco sympathises with me, and promises to aid me in a plan
which I have conceived for communicating by letter with my absent
mistress; but he warns me that there are many difficulties in the way of
doing so.

'The nuns,' he says, 'who accompany my patient, stand like a couple of
sentinels on each side of her, and no word or gesture escapes their
attentive ears and watchful gaze. He must have more than a conjuror's
hand who can perform any epistolary feat and escape their keen
observation.'

The allusion to conjuring reminds me of my scheme.

Will Don Francisco recommend to his patient a box of his registered
tooth-powder?

He will be delighted to have that opportunity.

'One of my assistants who accompanies me in my convent rounds shall
include such a box in my dentist's bag.'

Don Francisco sees through my 'little powder plot,' as he calls it, and
hands me a box of his patented tooth-powder, beneath which I afterwards
carefully deposit a billet-doux.

But Don Francisco can improve upon my scheme, and staggers me with his
new idea.

'You shall deliver the box yourself!' says he.

The convent rules, he explains, allow him to introduce an assistant, or
'practicante,' as he is called. The same practicante does not always
accompany him in his semi-weekly visits to the convent.

'As I am about to visit La Cachita for dental purposes only,' says the
considerate gentleman, 'you shall on this occasion act as my
practicante.'

Early next morning we are on the threshold of the sacred ground. Don
Francisco boldly enters the stone ante-chamber, which I have so often
timidly approached, and taps with a firm knuckle on the torno.

'Ave Maria Purisima!' murmurs the door-keeper from behind.

'Pecador de mi!' (sinner as I am) replies the practised Don.

'Que se ofrece usted?' (what is your pleasure?) inquires the voice. And
when the dentist has satisfied the door-keeper's numerous demands, a
spring door flies open, and we step into a narrow passage. Here we
remain for some moments, while our persons are carefully identified
through a perforated disc. Then another door opens, the mysterious
door-keeper appears and conducts us into the very core of the convent.
As we look over the convent garden, which is tastefully laid out with
tropical plants and kitchen stuff, a thickly veiled nun approaches us.
The lady seems to be on fami