''Would you deem me too impertinent, were I to ask you one question, Señora?' said I, after we had proceeded a few steps.
''Of course that will in a great measure depend on the question you are about to ask,' she replied, giving at the same time a sweet smile.
''Are you a native of Mexico, Señora?'
''No, Señor,' answered she, after a momentary pause, 'I am not a Mexican; but may I, in return, inquire what induced you to doubt it?'
''Madame, if you will excuse my candor, my doubts were excited by your Spanish.'
''O Señor! I am aware that I speak it very poorly.'
''If I am not greatly mistaken, you are a native of la belle France.'
'The beautiful stranger turned pale. 'What possible interest, Señor, can it be to you as to who or what I am?' This she asked with an earnest look, so piercing and fixed as to astonish me in any woman.
''No interest, madame, but it would be a pleasure; for my mother's ancestors were French, and I am, therefore, ever happy to have an opportunity to be of any service to one whom I am permitted to look upon as in some degree a country-woman.'
''I am not from France, Señor, although my ancestry, like yours, is French. I am a native of New-Orleans.'