"It is I who am honored, señora," he returned with a sweep of the sombrero, and one brief yet steady look into her eyes. Mrs. Bryton turned away with a pleased little smile, and proceeded to shake the dust from the ruffles of her sleeve.
Keith Bryton saw both the look and the smile, and it gave a tinge of coldness to his greeting.
"How do you do, Señor Arteaga?" he remarked. "Thank you for looking after Mrs."--the word seemed hard to say--"Bryton. Are you adding stage-driving to your other accomplishments?"
Rafael Arteaga had caused too much jealousy in his day not to suspect he recognized it in the attitude of the American, whom it was something of a victory to outrival.
"Only when there is extra precious cargo on board," he said, meaningly. "American ladies are rare in San Juan. I was the only one present to show our appreciation of such a visit."
"But I am not an American--never in this world!" she insisted. "It was only the accident of marriage took me to your Mexican America. I was born in London, and am a subject of the Queen! Don't ever fancy me an American!"
"Few people will make that mistake," said Bryton, dryly. "I suppose you know that your cousin and his wife are not here?"
"Oh, yes, I discovered that through Señor Arteaga when I was part way down. But he tells me the army men are here, and that there are always dances, horse races, and a general festival while they stay. I thought it might be worth while. Señor Arteaga will look after me if you are too busy."
"With many thanks for the honor, señora."
"The barbecues are over," said Bryton; "they were rather subdued this time, because of the funeral of Don Rafael's brother. I leave with the army men to-morrow for a trip farther north, and you had best return to Los Angeles, or go to your cousin in San Diego."
She pretended to busy herself concerning a bandbox on which the cord had broken, but her little white teeth bit into her lip. Rafael had entered the post-office with the driver of the stage.
"I am not interested in San Diego," she observed. "There must be somewhere in this row of adobes a place where a lady could stay."
"There is the tavern kept by Mac. You may be able to retain a room there alone, if no other women stop over."