ubborn. Throughout his long
life he had not been of yielding habit, and his heart was set on Iris.

"You are mighty sure that she is wrapped up in this young spark," he
growled.

"Were I not, I would not have interfered. Take my advice. First, ask
yourself an honest question. Then ask the girl. She will answer. I
promise you that."

"I'm a rich man," persisted Dickey.

"Yes."

"Nobody forced 'er, one way or the other."

"Possibly. One wonders, though, why she hid herself on the
_Andromeda_."

"It's true, I tell you. David said----"

"Who is David?"

"Her uncle."

"In England, I take it, if a man wishes to marry a girl he does not woo
her uncle. Of course, these customs vary. Here, in Brazil----"

Then Bulmer said something about Brazil that was not to be expected
from one of his staid demeanor. In fact, he regarded Brazil as the
cause of the whole trouble, and his opinion concerning that marvelous
land coincided with Hozier's. He turned and walked away, looking a
trifle older, a trifle more bent, perhaps, than when he came out of the
house.

An hour later, Dom Corria and Carmela met in a corridor. They were
discussing arrangements for a speedy move to the capital when Iris ran
into them. Her face was flushed, and she had been crying. Much to
Carmela's amazement, the English girl clasped her round the neck and
kissed her.

"Tell your father, my dear, that he has been very good to me," she
whispered; then her face grew scarlet again, and she hurried away.

"Excellent!" said the President. "That old man is a gentleman. His
friend is not. Yet they are very much alike in other respects. Odd
thing! Carmela _cara_, can you spare a few minutes from your invalid?"

"Yes, father."

"Go, then, and find that young Englishman, Philip Hozier. Tell him
that the engagement between Miss Yorke and Mr. Bulmer is broken off."

Carmela's black eyes sparkled. That wayward blood of hers surged in
her veins, but Dom Corria's calm glance dwelt on her, and the spasm
passed.

"Yes, father," she said dutifully.

He stroked his chin as he went out to pronounce a funeral oration on
those who had fallen during the fight.

"I think," said he reflectively, "I think that Carmela dislikes that
girl. I wonder why?"

Philip had never, to his knowledge, seen the Senhora De Sylva. Watts
spoke of her, remarking that she was "a reel pleasant young lady, a bit
flighty, p'raps, but, then, 'oo could tell wot a