ishioner next door, and was
going home with Jocasta (a peon servant of her uncle's), when I heard
the music, and dropped in. I don't know what has become of her," she
added, glancing round the room again; "she seemed perfectly wild when
she saw that creature over there bounding about with his handkerchiefs.
You were speaking to him just now. Do tell me--is he real?"

"I should think there was little doubt of that," I said with a vague
laugh.

"You know what I mean," she said simply. "Is he quite sane? Does he do
that because he likes it, or is he paid for it?"

This was too much. I pointed out somewhat hurriedly that he was a scion
of one of the oldest Castilian families, that the performance was a
national gypsy dance which he had joined in as a patriot and a patron,
and that he was my dearest friend. At the same time I was conscious that
I wished she hadn't seen his last performance.

"You don't mean to say that all that he did was in the dance?" she said.
"I don't believe it. It was only like him." As I hesitated over this
palpable truth, she went on: "I do wish he'd do it again. Don't you
think you could make him?"

"Perhaps he might if YOU asked him," I said a little maliciously.

"Of course I shouldn't do that," she returned quietly. "All the same, I
do believe he is really going to do it--or something else. Do look!"

I looked, and to my horror saw that Enriquez, possibly incited by the
delicate gold eyeglasses of Miss Mannersley, had divested himself of
his coat, and was winding the four handkerchiefs, tied together,
picturesquely around his waist, preparatory to some new performance. I
tried furtively to give him a warning look, but in vain.

"Isn't he really too absurd for anything?" said Miss Mannersley, yet
with a certain comfortable anticipation in her voice. "You know, I never
saw anything like this before. I wouldn't have believed such a creature
could have existed."

Even had I succeeded in warning him, I doubt if it would have been of
any avail. For, seizing a guitar from one of the musicians, he struck a
few chords, and suddenly began to zigzag into the center of the floor,
swaying his body languishingly from side to side in time with the
music and the pitch of a thin Spanish tenor. It was a gypsy love song.
Possibly Miss Mannersley's lingual accomplishments did not include a
knowledge of Castilian, but she could not fail to see that the gestures
and illustrative pantomime were addressed to h