rse put the
blame on her own sex, and went over to the stronger side--the man's.

"It's a great pity gals should be so curious," she said, sotto voce, to
Thatcher, when Carmen was in one of her sullen moods. "Yet I s'pose
it's in her blood. Them Spaniards is always revengeful,--like the
Eyetalians."

Thatcher honestly looked his surprise.

"Why, don't you see, she's thinking how all these lands might have been
her uncle's but for you. And instead of trying to be sweet and--" here
she stopped to cough.

"Good God!" said Thatcher in great concern, "I never thought of that."
He stopped for a moment, and then added with decision, "I can't believe
it; it isn't like her."

Mrs. P. was piqued. She walked away, delivering, however, this Parthian
arrow: "Well, I hope 'TAINT NOTHING WORSE."

Thatcher chuckled, then felt uneasy. When he next met Carmen, she found
his grey eyes fixed on hers with a curious, half-inquisitorial look she
had never noticed before. This only added fuel to the fire. Forgetting
their relations of host and guest, she was absolutely rude. Thatcher was
quiet but watchful; got the Plodgitt to bed early, and, under cover of
showing a moonlight view of the "Lost Chance Mill," decoyed Carmen out
of ear-shot, as far as the dismantled furnace.

"What is the matter, Miss De Haro; have I offended you?"

Miss Carmen was not aware that anything was the matter. If Don Royal
preferred old friends, whose loyalty of course he knew, and who were
above speaking ill against a gentleman in his adversity--(oh, Carmen!
fie!) if he preferred THEIR company to LATER FRIENDS--why--(the
masculine reader will observe this tremendous climax and tremble)--why
she didn't know why HE should blame HER.

They turned and faced each other. The conditions for a perfect
misunderstanding could not have been better arranged between two people.
Thatcher was a masculine reasoner, Carmen a feminine feeler,--if I may
be pardoned the expression. Thatcher wanted to get at certain facts, and
argue therefrom. Carmen wanted to get at certain feelings, and then fit
the facts to THEM.

"But I am NOT blaming you, Miss Carmen," he said gravely. "It WAS stupid
in me to confront you here with the property claimed by your uncle and
occupied by me, but it was a mistake,--no!" he added hastily, "it was
not a mistake. You knew it, and I didn't. You overlooked it before you
came, and I was too glad to overlook it after you were here."

"Of course," sa