ive a public narration of his
experiences. This could not fail to give him a certain degree of
importance in the settlement, and it was suggested that he be elected
to some public office. But he divested their minds of any such
thought, and desired to be allowed a quiet and retired life; he was too
modest and reserved to put himself forward at any time, and now
anything like publicity was positively painful to him. Even when
chatting socially with old friends, he displayed more or less shyness,
and especially when Jonathan was present.

"A strange sort of friendship!" thought Carmen, as she noticed how her
father never sought the doctor's society, but, on the contrary, seemed
to tolerate his company with a kind of bitter endurance, as if he were
in some secret way the master and Mauer the slave. Often, when
Jonathan addressed him, he would suddenly change color and an
involuntary expression of terror pass over his countenance; then the
physician's words would assume a slightly scornful tone, and Mauer
would humbly lower his eyes.

A few days after Jonathan's visit, he inquired how the prescribed
medicine had affected him.

"Most beneficially," replied Mauer. "I feel stronger in every way."

"Just as I thought," said the other, smiling kindly. "I ordered
fifteen drops, but now you can begin to take twenty; that will not be
too strong--but positively not more, dear Brother."

Mauer looked up at him with an expression of keenest anguish, and
gasped for breath; while Jonathan continued to smile at him.

No wonder Carmen thought, "What a strange sort of friendship!"

"It must be with my dear father as it is with me," she said to herself
by way of explanation. "He recognizes the snake-like nature in Brother
Jonathan, but dares not show it; and having been friends in early
youth, he still loves him in spite of everything."

Weeks and months passed away. Mauer's house was in process of being
completed, and he was constantly urging the workmen to have it ready
for him as soon as possible, as he longed to be settled.

The plan had evidently been drawn on the same simple and spacious style
of the hacienda in Jamaica, where Carmen's mother had lived. A wide,
shady veranda was to extend all around, and a broad flight of steps to
lead from it to the spacious grounds. Deep-seated windows were to open
out on the garden, and elms instead of magnolias must shade them. But
the veranda had to be given up, for, when the