lighted by a hanging chandelier of cut glass, holding about a dozen
petroleum lamps. Two rows of chairs, facing each other, were occupied
by ladies in silken skirts of brilliant hues, and in _camisas_ and
_pañuelos_ of delicate embroidered or hand-painted _piña_. We made
a solemn entry, and passed up the aisle doing a sort of Roger de
Coverley figure in turning first to one side and then to the other
to shake hands. No names were mentioned. Our hostess said, by way of
general announcement, "La maestra," and having started me up the maze
left me to unwind myself. So I zigzagged along with a hand-shake and
a decorous "Buenas noches" to everybody till I found myself at the
end of the line at an open window. Here one of those little oblong
tables, across which the Filipinos are fond of talking, separated
me from a lady, unquestionably of the white races, who received the
distinction of personal mention. She was "_la Gobernadora_," and her
husband, a fat _Chino mestizo_, was immediately brought forward and
introduced as "_el Gobernador_." He was a man of education and polish,
having spent fourteen years in school in Spain, where he married his
wife. After having welcomed me properly, he betook himself to the
room at the head of the stairs where the men were congregated. A fat
native priest in a greasy old cassock seemed the centre of jollity
there, and he alternately joked with the men and stopped to extend
his hand to the children who went up and kissed it.

I did my best to converse intelligently with the Gobernadora and the
other ladies who were within conversational distance. A band came up
outside and played "Just One Girl," and presently one of the ladies of
the house invited the Governor's wife and me to partake of sweets. We
went out to the dining-room, where a table was laid with snow-white
cloth, and prettily decorated with flowers and with crystal dishes
containing goodies.