atory correspondence with the few friends to whom he still wrote.
Still he could not repress a little thrill of satisfaction at knowing
that she had not yet married Tolliver or anyone else. But evidently
Tolliver had not yet abandoned hope.

Well, it made no difference to him now. He had eaten of the lotus. He
was happy and content in this land of perpetual afternoon. Those old
days of life in the States seemed like an irritating dream. He hoped
Ida would be as happy as he was. The climate as balmy as that of
distant Avalon; the fetterless, idyllic round of enchanted days;
the life among this indolent, romantic people--a life full of music,
flowers, and low laughter; the influence of the imminent sea and
mountains, and the many shapes of love and magic and beauty that
bloomed in the white tropic nights--with all he was more than
content. Also, there was Paula Brannigan.

Geddie intended to marry Paula--if, of course, she would consent;
but he felt rather sure that she would do that. Somehow, he kept
postponing his proposal. Several times he had been quite near to it;
but a mysterious something always held him back. Perhaps it was only
the unconscious, instinctive conviction that the act would sever the
last tie that bound him to his old world.

He could be very happy with Paula. Few of the native girls could be
compared with her. She had attended a convent school in New Orleans
for two years; and when she chose to display her accomplishments no
one could detect any difference between her and the girls of Norfolk
and Manhattan. But it was delicious to see her at home dressed, as
she sometimes was, in the native costume, with bare shoulders and
flowing sleeves.

Bernard Brannigan was the great merchant of Coralio. Besides his
store, he maintained a train of pack mules, and carried on a lively
trade with the interior towns and villages. He had married a native
lady of high Castilian descent, but with a tinge of Indian brown
showing through her olive cheek. The union of the Irish and the
Spanish had produced, as it so often has, an offshoot of rare beauty
and variety. They were very excellent people indeed, and the upper
story of their house was ready to be placed at the service of Geddie
and Paula as soon as he should make up his mind to speak about it.

By the time two hours were whiled away the consul tired of reading.
The papers lay scattered about him on the gallery. Reclining there,
he gazed dreamily out upon an