Bandit Love

"I say, darling, I hope you're not in earnest," Tony remarked. "You

seem to be in a dangerous mood to-night, and you look adorably

lovely--yes, simply scrumptious! You would fascinate any man, my dear,

and I am sure even Don Carlos will be clay in your hands. Don't be too

hard on him, Myra. He's an awfully good chap, and I feel sure he

didn't mean any harm."

"To-night, my dear Tony, I am a 'vamp,'" laughed Myra. "Just look at

Aunt Clarissa over there flirting with Don Carlos, who is probably

telling her she is the most accomplished and beautiful woman in the

world. Watch me go and cut her out!"

Conscious that she was looking her best (a feeling that gives any woman

a sense of power), Myra strolled across the hall to where Don Carlos

was chatting to Lady Fermanagh.

"Forgive me if I am interrupting," she said sweetly, smiling into the

dark eyes of the Spaniard. "I want to tell you I am so glad to hear

from Tony that you are coming with us on the yachting cruise this

winter, and I want to thank you for your invitation to El Castillo de

Ruiz. I was so afraid you had not forgiven me for being so rude to

you, and dreaded lest you had decided to have nothing further to do

with such an ungracious person as Myra Rostrevor."

"Sweet lady, I should dismiss such a thought as treason, not to say

blasphemy," Don Carlos responded gallantly. "Even when you are

ungracious, if ever, you are always the most adorable and beautiful

woman in the world."

Myra trilled out a laugh, her blue eyes still smiling at him.

"Thank you, señor, for these few kind words," she said. "I expect you

have been saying something of the same sort to my aunt?"

"Yes, Myra, Don Carlos has been telling me that mine is the type of

beauty he has always most admired, and that I seem to have discovered

not only the secret of perpetual youth, but the art of growing old

gracefully," Lady Fermanagh told her smilingly. "I begin to suspect

him of being Irish instead of Spanish--for how can one grow old with

perpetual youth, I ask you? Still, I confess I like his blarney, and I

think it a pity that most Englishmen seem to have lost the knack of

paying a compliment, and saying flattering things as if they meant

them."

"Dear lady, you do both me and yourself an injustice," exclaimed Don

Carlos, his tone very grave but his dark eyes dancing. "The greatest

of courtiers, even if he had kissed your famous Blarney Stone, would

surely be at a loss for words which would even do justice to your

charm, let alone flattering you."