The general shrugs his shoulders. “Do as you please. I have warned you,” he says, and turns away.
Ten minutes later Ashley and Juanita are en route for Santiago in a volante.
The young lady is sad. The natural reaction has set in.
“I am thinking of my father,” she replies to Jack’s attempt to rally her.
“Your father is all right,” he confidently assures her. “In an hour or two you will be in his arms, and I shall have the pleasure of asking him for the hand of the dearest girl in the world. Or, stay, I am progressing too rapidly,” he muses, in mock concern. “It has occurred to me,” he goes on, “that—oh, well, of course a proposal of marriage must naturally be regarded more conservatively now than—”
“Jack!”
“Yes, senorita.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Of you, senorita. Ah, something in your eyes tells me that I may be presumptuous enough to hope.”
“What nonsense! There, I knew you were joking,” declares Juanita, as she catches a stray twinkle in Jack’s eye. “You foolish boy, you know I love you. I have loved you ever since—I met you.”