After their departure, the outer shell of the great house fell into
a profound silence, so hollow and deserted that one might have
thought the curse of Koorotora had already descended upon it. Dead
leaves of roses and fallen blossoms from the long line of vine-
wreathed columns lay thick on the empty stretch of brown veranda,
or rustled and crept against the sides of the house, where the
regular breath of the afternoon "trades" began to arise. A few
cardinal flowers fell like drops of blood before the open windows
of the vacant ball-room, in which the step of a solitary servant
echoed faintly. It was Maruja's maid, bringing a note to her young
mistress, who, in a flounced morning dress, leaned against the
window. Maruja took it, glanced at it quietly, folded it in a long
fold, and put it openly in her belt. Captain Carroll, from whom it
came, might have carried one of his despatches as methodically.
The waiting-woman noticed the act, and was moved to suggest some
more exciting confidences.

"The Dona Maruja has, without doubt, noticed the bouquet on her
dressing-room table from the Senor Garnier?"

The Dona Maruja had. The Dona Maruja had also learned with pain
that, bribed by Judas-like coin, Faquita had betrayed the secrets
of her wardrobe to the extent of furnishing a ribbon from a certain
yellow dress to the Senor Buchanan to match with a Chinese fan.
This was intolerable!

Faquita writhed in remorse, and averred that through this solitary
act she had dishonored her family.