And the others are just as bad--another pair of pigeons. It's
like living in a dove-cote."
Rosa, too, had vastly changed. She was clad in a charming little
muslin dress, there were dimples in her cheeks, she wore a heavy
Mardchal Neil bud at her breast. O'Reilly held her off and
devoured her with his eyes.
"Sweetheart, you grow fresher and more beautiful every hour," said
he.
Rosa danced upon her toes, and tugged at him. "But come quickly
and see the surprise we have. I've been wild for your return, so
hurry." She led him swiftly up the steps, and there, standing
beside a chair, was Esteban Varona. "He dressed himself and walked
out here alone. HE'S WELL!"
"Esteban! Really--"
The brother nodded decisively. "It's true. I rebelled at last. To-
morrow I'll walk to the gate and the next day we'll go fishing."
"Jove! How splendid!"
"Why, I'm as firm on my feet as a rock."
Norine emerged through one of the French windows and explained:
"He took advantage of me while I was gone for the mail, and now
he's quite out of control. Here's a letter from Leslie, by the
way. He's home and has a position and hopes we'll follow soon.
There's one bit of news; he says the talk of intervention
increases and he may have to return to Cuba as a war
correspondent. Fancy! He's deathly frightened at the prospect.
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