'Not yet--wait!'

Senora Barenna was chattering in her deep husky tones immediately
behind them. Julia turned and looked up at the windows of the
house, which commanded a full view of the garden. The dwelling
rooms were as usual upon the first floor, and the windows were
lightly barred with curiously wrought iron. Each window was
curtained within with lace and muslin.

The paths wound in and out among the trees, but none of these were
large enough to afford a secure screen from the eye of any watcher
within the house. There was neither olive nor ilex in the garden to
afford shelter with their heavy leaves. Julia and Conyngham walked
on, out-distancing the elder lady and Estella. From these many a
turn in the path hid them from time to time, but Julia was
distrustful of the windows and hesitated, in an agony of
nervousness. Conyngham saw that her face was quite colourless, and
her teeth closed convulsively over her lower lip. He continued to
talk of indifferent topics, but the answers she made were incoherent
and broken. The course of true love did not seem to run smooth
here.

'Shall I give you the letter? No one can see us, senorita.
Besides, I was informed that it was of no importance except to
yourself. You have doubtless had many such before, unless the
Spanish gentlemen are blind.'

He laughed and felt in his pocket.

'Yes!' she whispered. 'Quickly--now.'