Baffled, and at a loss to know how to deal with the situation, Tony
Standish glowered at him, with the uncomfortable sensation that he was
making a fool of himself, and that Don Carlos was inwardly laughing at
him.

"It isn't a matter to jest about," he said stiffly. "That sort of
thing isn't done in England, and I must ask you to refrain from
approaching Miss Rostrevor again."

"I am desolated, señor!" exclaimed Don Carlos, with a despairing
gesture. "I find it difficult to understand the English
conventionalities in the matter of love-making. If you were Spanish,
my dear Standish, you would not complain of my making love to your
betrothed unless you were unsure of her and were afraid of my winning
her away from you. If you regard me as a dangerous rival, and the
adorable Miss Rostrevor takes me seriously, and you are afraid----"

"That isn't the point, Don Carlos," hastily interposed Tony, beginning
to regret having made so much fuss. "I--er--I am willing to believe
that you have not seriously been trying to steal Myra's affections away
from me, or that possibly Myra may have taken you too seriously."

"How can a mere man hope to read what is in the heart of a woman?"
responded Don Carlos, helping himself to a cigarette. "Our Spanish
girls, if they think an accepted lover is not sufficiently devoted and
attentive, will complain that another man is making passionate
love--thus arousing the lover's jealousy and re-firing him with ardour;
and a married woman will invent a lover and complain of his attentions
for the same reason, if her husband's love seems to be cooling."