'Not now,' said Senora Barenna with a deep sigh. 'When I was young
it was different.'

And the memory of her sinful days almost moved her to tears. She
glanced at Conyngham with a tragic air of mutual understanding, as
if drawing a veil over that blissful past in the presence of Julia
and Estella. 'Ask me another time,' that glance seemed to say.

'Yes,' the lady continued, 'Father Concha is very angry with the
English. Firstly, because of these bibles. Blessed Heaven! what
does it matter? No one can read them except the priests, and they
do not want to do so. Secondly, because the English have helped to
overthrow Don Carlos--'

'You will have a penance,' interrupted Miss Julia Barenna quietly,
'from Father Concha for talking politics.'

'But how will he know?' asked Senora Barenna sharply; and the two
young ladies laughed.

Senora Barenna looked from one to the other, and shrugged her
shoulders. Like many women she was a strange mixture of foolishness
and worldly wisdom. She adjusted her mantilla and mutely appealed
to Heaven with a glance of her upturned eyes. Conyngham, who was no
diplomatist, nor possessed any skill in concealing his thoughts,
looked with some interest at Julia Barenna, and Estella watched him.
'Julia is right,' Senora Barenna was saying, though nobody heeded
her; 'one must not talk nor even think politics in this country.
You are no politician, I trust, Senor Conyngham--Senor Conyngham, I