“Delightful,” she blushingly assented.
“Well, arrange it among yourselves. For the present, adios.” And with a sweeping bow the senor took his departure.
A stroll through the gardens and orchards, dinner and sprightly conversation, an hour of piano-playing and singing to follow—altogether a delightful evening was spent. The nearly full moon had risen before the young men found themselves on the homeward trail.
As side by side they rode down into the valley, Munson said:
“Dick, boy, there’s no use talking. You have introduced me to some perfectly charming people today—they’re wonderful.”
“What did I tell you?” asked Dick.
“You surely did not tell me the half,” replied the other. “I think Grace Darlington is the prettiest girl I have ever seen.”
“Guess you’ll be writing out your resignation and sending it to army headquarters,” laughed Dick. “Quien sabe?”
The lieutenant made no reply, and quickening their pace, they pushed on in silence.
At last they were nearing home—passing round the last spur of the mountain. The moon was now riding high overhead, bathing the whole landscape in bright effulgence. Willoughby brought his pony to a walk, and Munson, coming up behind, soon joined him.