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"Sweet lady, I would perjurewith you," Don Carlos responded, sht to have for partner the land You dance divinely, señorita,

and are light as thistledown in my arms My soul is enchanted,

enraptured!"

"Aith your blarney!" exclaily,

half-impatiently, but conscious of a queer little thrill as she lance "Do you pay every woant compliments, señor?"

"No, señorita, I am a connoisseur," answered Don Carlos, his tone quite

serious but his black eyes twinkling "And no coant if applied to you, dear lady One would have to be a great

poet to find words to do justice to your beauty and charm"

He had a deep, musical voice which was infinitely attractive, and Myra

found herself more than a little fascinated, and felt that she could

listen to hihed lightly

"Should I respond by telling you in honeyed words that you dance as