lf, as he observed the calm, quiet, earnest way in which that
princess of the Incas applied herself to the reparation of that little
hole. "Now Manuela, my darling," continued the colonel, changing his
tone and manner suddenly as he sat down beside her and put a hand
lovingly on her shoulder, "you know that I would not for all the world
permit, or induce you to do anything that would risk your happiness. I
now come to ask you seriously if you--if you are in--in short, if you
admire this young fellow."

Instead of answering, Manuela, while searching carefully for any other
little hole that might have been made, or that was on the eve of being
made, by any other little toe, asked the astounding question--

"Is he rich, father?"

A mixture of surprise and annoyance marked the old man's tone and look
as he replied--

"Why, what has _that_ got to do with it?"

"Have you not over and over again warned me, father, to beware of those
gay young fellows who haven't got two sixpences to rub against each
other, but have presumption enough to trifle with the affections of all
the silly girls in the world. And are you sorry that I should have laid
your lessons to heart?"

"Tut, child, don't talk nonsense. Whether he is rich or poor is a mere
matter of moonshine. The question I have to settle just now is--Are you
fond of him?"

"Well, no, father, I can't exactly say that I--"

"I knew it! I was _sure_ of it! The presumptuous puppy!" shouted the
old man of war, jumping up, overturning a work-table with its
innumerable contents, and striding towards the door.

"Stay, father!" said Manuela, in a tone that military discipline forbade
him to disobey, and holding out both her hands with an air and grace
that love forbade him to resist. "I _don't_ admire him, and I'm _not_
fond of him," continued the Inca princess, vehemently, as she grasped
her parent's hands; "these terms are ridiculously inadequate. I love
him, father--I _adore_ him--I--"

She stopped abruptly, for a noise at the glass-door caused her to turn
her eyes in that direction. It was Quashy, who stood there staring at
them with all his eyes, and grinning at them with more than all his
mouth--to say nothing of his ears!

"You black baboon!" shouted the colonel, when able to speak.

"Oh, nebber mind me, kurnel," said Quashy, with a deprecatory air,
"'skuse me. I's on'y habin' a stroll in de gardin an' come here kite by
haxidint. Go on wid your leetle gam