"The general perhaps considers that his troops require rest," suggested my mother.
"Even so, staying here is a great mistake," said the colonel. "We are giving the Royalists time to recover their strength, and we shall suffer for it later on. Unfortunately the general appears to think that Lima is Peru."
"Not the general only," remarked my father; "many of his officers would be sorry to exchange Lima for the mountains."
"That is so," admitted O'Brien frankly. "The truth of the matter is, the citizens have treated us too well. They have made us so comfortable that we wish to stay here as long as possible."
"In that case," said my mother, smiling, "we must steel our hearts against you."
"And drive us into the wilderness again!" laughed O'Brien gaily. "Señora, you will not be so cruel?"
"I will not begin to-day," she replied merrily, "because I hope you will stay and dine with us. To-morrow—"
"Ah! let us think of to-morrow when it comes; to-day we will enjoy ourselves."
"A pleasant creed," remarked my father, "though more often than not it leads to ruin. I shall begin to think you are falling a victim to our South American vice."
"What is that?"