succeed to 'keep my pearl'; it ees yours,
Senorita."

"No, Baron----" I begin, with warm protest.

"If you vant me to haf it, Senorita, write me and I vill come from
dthe end of dthe vorld to get it. But you vill not, zo put dthis Inca
eye beside it. Dthey zay in my country it bring gude luck. But it look
like dthat sun ve haf ofer our heads in Acapulco Bay, dthink you not
zo, Madame?"

He shows her the curious jewel, like opaque amber sprinkled with gold
dust.

"It is very curious and interesting," says Mrs. Steele.

"Indeed it is," I agree; "thank you very much." But I scarcely see the
Inca eye; I am looking into his and trying to read his face.

"Zo, Senorita, dthough you go far nordthvard dthe Inca's eye from Peru
ees still upon you; I haf send him to take care off ... dthe _pearl_.
Gude-bye--Gude-bye, Madame!"

The tall figure turns away, and in a moment is gone.

"Why, Blanche, what is the matter?" Mrs. Steele's voice is sharp with
concern. I try to smile and instinctively my hand goes to my tightened
throat. "My poor child, do you care?"

"How absurd!" I say, with what scorn I can command. "Care about
_what_, anyhow?"

"Senorita!" The handsome face of the Peruvian looks in at an open
window near the far end of the car. A bell rings, the conductor shouts
some warning in Spanish. In the din I run to the window and the Baron
holds up a bunch of roses. "Dthink dthe best you can of me, Blanca; I
vill loaf you all my life."

The look of suffering in the wonderful dark eyes brings the lump again
to my throat. I take the roses and I know my eyes are misty.

"Thank you, Guillermo; it won't be hard to think good things of
you...."

I feel a warning hand on my shoulder. It is Mrs. Steele, and the
touch recalls all my resolutions.

"I shall always remember.... Good-bye!"

The train moves off, the Baron steps back with that same look in his
face, and lifts his hat. His courtesy shows at the last some flaw,
for, although Mrs. Steele is there, his lips and eyes say only:

"Gude-bye, Blanca!"

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