"'Her brother is a friend of mine. I sent a note to her through him.'
"Every word of that talk is engraved on my mind. 'Sit down beside me,' he said. 'Let me look at you. How beautiful you are!' He said that you know; I merely repeat his words. 'And quite the glass of fashion, the mold of form! What have they taught you, my child, except how to dress well?'
"When he asked me that I suddenly seemed inexpressibly ignorant to myself. 'Why—why, nothing much, I guess,' I stammered. He smiled such a dear smile. 'Oh, well, if you feel that you know nothing there is still hope for you.'
"'I suppose you wonder what my errand is,' he went on, 'and now that I am here I scarcely know how to tell you. It was an impulse of the heart. I felt somehow as if my heart could not rest unless I saw you before I went away.'
"'You are going away!' I cried, already experiencing the sinking sensation that one feels at the prospect of losing an old friend. 'They are driving you away!' I added, thinking of Francisco.
"He smiled a different kind of smile. 'No, they are not driving me away. I go for Managuay.'
"'Where?'
"'To the United States. I sail on the Alliança to-morrow. It is a dangerous errand from which I may not return.'
"'Dangerous!' I cried like the foolish child I was, 'but there's no danger nowadays!'
"He smiled and answered with another question. 'Do you know anything about me? what I stand for? what de Socotra stands for?'