"Some day," remarked Mary Lee, as she settled back in her seat, "I mean to come back to Spain. I shall take that nice little house that Mercedes told me could be rented for forty dollars a year, for then I shall be old enough to keep house. I shall hire a servant for two dollars a month and I shall live on figs and chestnuts."
Miss Dolores laughed. "You would certainly need many doses of anisado if you were to do that," she said.
"For all there is so much corn in this part of the country," remarked Nan, "we didn't see any of our old home corn bread."
"No, and you never would see. The meal used by the peasants is poor stuff compared to ours," Mr. Pinckney told her. "They make it into a thick solid mass which is as unappetizing as it is unwholesome. Look over there, Nan; there is that old monastery you are so fond of, and the church attached to it. Pretty soon Mary Lee will see the town where her San Roque was honored in fiesta."
"That was a great fiesta," said Nan reminiscently. "How Jack would have enjoyed those funny fire balloons they sent up, the pigs and such things, the perigrinos, too."
"And those great giant figures dancing the jota all the time the procession was moving," said Mary Lee.
"There was nothing very solemn about it, as there was at Celorio," Nan went on. "To be sure, San Roque had a very serious expression, but everything and everybody else were as gay as larks."
With such chat they beguiled their way till night brought them again to Bilbao and the next afternoon saw them leaving San Sebastian and saying farewell to Spain. "Adios, España!" cried Nan.
"You may say Adios, if you choose," said Mary Lee, "but I shall say only Hasta mañana; for I mean to come back."
Miss Dolores smiled down at her, for she well knew that part of this enthusiasm for Spain was due to Mary Lee's love for this señiorita for whom she had always held a worshipful feeling.