loveliness is set off by a bewitching gown of white; she is fanning herself with that lazily graceful motion which the Saxon cannot imitate successfully, and at the moment that Ashley discovers her she is telling Captain Ramon Huerta, who has requested with Spanish extravagance "the exquisite honor and incomparable delight of a figure with her," that she really does not care to dance this evening. At which Captain Huerta looks disappointed and scowls a trifle. But he continues to inflict upon her a presence which is palpably unwelcome.
Juanita's eyes light up with unfeigned pleasure when Ashley arrives upon the scene and she greets him with unreserved cordiality. She presents him to Captain Huerta, who bows as stiffly as he holds his revolver arm. Ashley returns the salute with a suspicion of exaggeration, and grins maliciously when the Spaniard takes himself off, after bestowing a glance of unmistakable enmity upon the American.
Juanita gazes after the retreating form with distinct aversion. "I have a strange fear of that man," she confides to Ashley, who smiles reassuringly and tells her that while she is in his vicinity there should be no such word as fear in her bright lexicon of youth.
Juanita rewards this gallant speech, which from anyone except Jack Ashley would sound boastful, with a glance that sets the American's blood tingling. But he has no time to-night for love-making, whether his suit be favored or hopeless, and as he drops into a chair beside the Pearl of the Antilles he asks casually: "Where is your friend, Mrs. Harding?"
"Ah, you know Isabel?
'You passed me this afternoon on the road to Santos, whither I was proceeding to pay my most humble respects."
"Then that horse by the big royal palm was yours?"
"Even so. I was close by, but your volante swept past at such a pace that I hardly recovered from my surprise at seeing you before you were gone."
"I am sorry we started away so early," Juanita says, regretfully.
