“Shake hands with the gentleman, that's a dear,” said Victoriano, talking baby talk to her.
“Oh, papa, make Tano hush. Mr. Darrell, I am afraid that I shall always seem ridiculous to you.”
“Not at all; I don't see why,” Clarence replied, “but I fear that your hurt might be serious.”
“That's it. You might be ridiculous, but your hurt might be serious,” said Victoriano.
It was Clarence's turn to blush now, but he smiled good naturedly.
“You won't be serious, though. I wish you were, and polite, too,” said Mercedes. “I don't know what Mr. Darrell will think of us.”
“Mr. Darrell will see us often, I hope, and think better of Tano,” said Don Mariano, carrying away his precious burden.
“My opinion is all that you could wish, Miss Mercedes,” said Clarence, and their eyes met, transmitting that strange thrill to both.
Don Mariano placed Mercedes tenderly on her mamma's lounge, called Madam Halier to attend to the sprained ankle, and returned to the veranda.
Clarence made no delay in stating the object of his visit. He said: