"What do you?"
The two men looked into each other's eyes for a moment, and then Padre Libertad spoke:
"I saw her mother years ago in Mexico. I was only a boy, and I adored Estevan. I carried letters for their love-making. That helps me to understand their daughter. It is true; it is in the blood, and you must go, my friend, before worse happens. And if ever she should be free—"
Keith put out his hand.
"Don't tempt me with a hope like that! I want to be sane when I do see her!"
He saw Doña Angela first, a delightful vision of brocades and white mantilla. She had dressed early, that she might help to receive the guests.
She flinched a little under his keen glance as his eyes wandered from the pearl-trimmed bodice to the fair face.
"Oh, of course it is not mourning," she exclaimed, "if that is what you are thinking of! But at least I wear no color, and it is only for one night. I have not the least intention of dancing. The whole affair is only to show off the old costumes."
"You succeed very well," he remarked. "Let Dolly come around to see me when she has had supper. I leave early in the morning, and can't see her then to say good-bye."