could formulate in words the eloquent emotions that ran riot
through his brain--with an 'Adios, Senor: good-night, my English
friend,' she vanished from his sight behind the curtain.

The next day Harry consumed an ounce of tobacco in vain upon the
neutral terrace; neither sight nor sound rewarded him, and the
dinner-hour summoned him at length from the scene of
disappointment. On the next it rained; but nothing, neither
business nor weather, neither prospective poverty nor present
hardship, could now divert the young man from the service of his
lady; and wrapt in a long ulster, with the collar raised, he took
his stand against the balustrade, awaiting fortune, the picture of
damp and discomfort to the eye, but glowing inwardly with tender
and delightful ardours. Presently the window opened, and the fair
Cuban, with a smile imperfectly dissembled, appeared upon the sill.

'Come here,' she said, 'here, beside my window. The small verandah
gives a belt of shelter.' And she graciously handed him a folding-
chair.

As he sat down, visibly aglow with shyness and delight, a certain
bulkiness in his pocket reminded him that he was not come empty-
handed.

'I have taken the liberty,' said he, 'of bringing you a little
book. I thought of you, when I observed it on the stall, because I
saw it was in Spanish. The man assured me it was by one of the
best authors, and quite proper.' As he spoke, he placed the little
volume in her hand. Her eyes fell as she turned the pages, and a
flush rose and died again upon her cheeks, as deep as it was