Brandon of the Engineers

"I expect so, but can't tell yet when we will be back," he said.

"Well," said Clare, "I shall feel that I am left alone. My father is

going to Kingston and doesn't know when he will return. Then you and Mr.

Fuller----"

She stopped with a touch of embarrassment, wondering whether she had said

too much, but Dick looked at her gravely.

"Then you will miss us?"

"Yes," she admitted with a blush. "I suppose I shall, in a sense. After

all, I really know nobody in Santa Brigida; that is, nobody I like. Of

course, we haven't seen either of you often, but then----"

"You liked to feel we were within call if we were wanted? Well, I wish I

could put off our trip, but I'm afraid it's impossible now."

"That would be absurd," Clare answered, smiling, and they went on in

silence for the next few minutes.

She felt that she had shown her feelings with raw candor, and the worst

was that Dick was right. Though he thought she had robbed him, and was

somehow her father's enemy, she did like to know he was near. Then there

had been something curious in his tone and he had asked her nothing about

her father's voyage. Indeed, it looked as if he meant to avoid the

subject, although politeness demanded some remark.

"I am going shopping at the Almacen Morales," she said by and by, giving

him an excuse to leave her if he wished.

"Then, if you don't mind, I'll come too. It will be out of this blazing

sun, and there are a few things Jake told me to get."

It was a relief to enter the big, cool, general store, but when Clare

went to the dry-goods counter Dick turned aside to make his purchases.

After this, he strolled about, examining specimens of native

feather-work, and was presently seized by an inspiration as he stopped

beside some Spanish lace. Clare ought to wear fine lace. The intricate,

gauzy web would harmonize with her delicate beauty, but the trouble was

that he was no judge of the material. A little farther on, a case of

silver filigree caught his eye and he turned over some of the articles.

This was work he knew more about, and it was almost as light and fine as

the lace. The design was good and marked by a fantastic Eastern grace,

for it had come from the Canaries and the Moors had taught the Spaniards

how to make it long ago. After some deliberation, Dick chose a belt-clasp

in a box by itself, and the girl who had been waiting on him called a

clerk.

"You have a good eye, señor," the man remarked. "The clasp was meant for

a sample and not for sale."