“Yes, I can hardly wait,” replied Peggy. “Florence told us about the promenade yesterday while we were driving around the Plaza.”
Dr. Blackwell exchanged glances with Florence, his eyes twinkling.
“I understand,” he chuckled, “that if you want to catch a suitor, all you have to do is pick out the young man you prefer, then throw him a rose as you pass. You can deliver your message by the color of the rose you use.”
“That’d be lots of fun,” replied Peggy laughingly. “Where’ll I get the rose, and what color shall I use?”
“Why, P-e-gg-y!” cried Jo Ann in consternation. “You wouldn’t really do a thing like that—would you?”
“If I should, I’d only be doing in Mexico as the Mexicans do—and that’s more than you’ve learned to do yet,” she finished, smiling teasingly at Jo Ann.
Jo Ann subsided instantly. A little more, and Dr. Blackwell might see through Peggy’s veiled remarks and begin asking questions about what she had been doing.
To her relief Peggy turned to Florence, saying, “Tell me some more about the why and wherefore of the rose-throwing custom”—her eyes sparkled—“so I can introduce it in the States for Jo’s benefit.”
Smilingly Florence explained that this was a very old custom but was seldom used now. “The Spanish girls and their caballeros have very few opportunities of meeting each other. When they pass on the promenade—you remember I told you how the girls all walk in one direction and the men in the other—they take advantage of this chance to say a few words or deliver a message.”
“If you’ve finished dinner, let’s sit out on the balcony a while with Dad before we go down to the Plaza. We can listen to the music and watch the crowds from there.”