d out. I looked up in
surprise, and never before saw such an expression of eager inquiry on
his face.

"`Manuela!' he said, in a low, tremulous voice, `if Mariquita is alive I
see her now. I see our friend Pedro in every line of her pretty face.'

"I looked, but could not see the likeness. You know how differently
people seem to be affected by the same face. I failed to see in the
sweet countenance framed in curling fair hair, and in the slight girlish
figure of surpassing grace, my swarthy friend Pedro. She seemed
startled at first by my father's abrupt manner. He questioned her.
What was her name--`Mariquita,' she said. `I was sure of it,' rejoined
my father. `Your surname, my girl?'

"`Arnold, senhor,' she replied, with surprise.

"My dear father is very impulsive. His hopes sank as fast as they had
risen. `Of course,' he said afterwards, `Mariquita is a common name,
and should not have raised my expectations so quickly, but the likeness,
you see, staggered me.'

"Dear father!" continued Manuela, casting down her eyes, and speaking in
a pensive tone, "I _do_ love him so, because of his little
imperfections. They set off his good points to so much greater
advantage. I should not like to have a perfect father. Would you,
Pedro?"

She raised her eyes to the guide's face with an arch look--and those
eyes had become wonderfully lustrous since the skin had lost its brown
hue.

"Really, Manuela," returned the impatient guide, "I have not yet
considered what degree of perfection I should like in my father--but how
about--"

"Forgive me, yes--Mariquita. Well, finding that we were going to the
house where she dwelt, Mariquita walked with us, and told us that she
had lived with our English friends, Mr and Mrs Daulton, since she was
a little child. Did she remember her parents? we asked. Yes, she
remembered them perfectly, and tried to describe them, but we could make
nothing of that for evidently she thought them handsomer, grander, and
more beautiful than any other people in the world. She did not remember
where they dwelt--except that it was in the woods and among mountains.

"`That corresponds exactly,' cried my father, becoming excited.
`Forgive me, child; I am an eccentric old fellow, but--did you quit your
home amid fire and smoke and yells--'

"My father was stopped at this point by our arrival at the house, and
the appearance of our friends. But he was too much roused by that time
to let