mma could not come with me, for she is
ill too. So I have to travel alone. The good Tilda came with me to
Madrid, but had to return to mamma. There was no time to seek another
companion. Besides, it is only from here to Burgos."

"Oh, Dolores, little Dolores!" cried Ashby, "how delightful it is to
see you again! What a lucky chance!"

"But it was not altogether chance," said Dolores.

"How?"

"Why, I saw you.

"Saw me?"

"Yes; I was watching you. You see, I was in the station waiting for
the train, and saw you come in. I then watched you all the time till
you entered this carriage, and then I came here too. Now, sir!"

Saying this, Dolores tossed her pretty little head with a triumphant
air, and smiled more bewitchingly than ever.

"You see," she continued, in the frankest and most engaging manner,
"I was so veiled that no one could know me, and when I saw you I was
very glad indeed; and I thought I would follow you, and speak to you,
and see if you had any remembrance left of poor little me."

For a moment there was a shade of embarrassment on Ashby's face, and
then it passed. He took her hand and pressed it fervently.

"Dolores," he said--"dear little friend of mine, I can never forget
you as long as I live, and all that was done for me by you and yours.
This sudden meeting with you is the most delightful thing that could
possibly have happened."

Dolores laughed, and again drew her hand demurely away.

"But oh, Senor Ashby," she said, "how absent you were in the
station!--and here--not one look for the poor Dolores!"

"Oh, Dolores!" said Ashby, in a tone of tender apology, "how could I
imagine that it was you? You were veiled so closely that no one could
recognize you. Why did you not speak before?"

"Ah, senor, young ladies in Spain cannot be so bold as I hear they
are in England. Even this is an unheard-of adventure--that I, a young
lady, should travel alone. But it is a case of life and death, you
know, and it is only from here to Burgos, where I shall find friends.
And then I wanted to speak to you once more. And you, senor--are you
going to England now?"

Again there came over Ashby's face a look of embarrassment. His
present journey was a delicate subject, which he could not discuss
very well with Dolores.

"Well, no," he said, after a brief pause. "I'm only going as far as
Bayonne--on business. But how long it seems since I saw you, Dolores!
It's more than a year."

"And have I changed,