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 too, and permitted me to say, without contradiction, that there had been no ghost at all, but only a door-handle.

She greatly respected Mr. Perry's American patriotism, and like to hear and read about the United States and the American people. But Mr. Perry could never persuade her to visit his native land with him. She dreaded the long sea-voyage, and protested that she could not live in a country where it was so cold and snowed so much. It would snow in Madrid, too, sometimes, but only a little, and then the snow did not cover the ground long. When it did begin to snow, Doña Carolina would begin to weep, and she shut herself up in her room until the snow had melted away. She was a thorough Spaniard, but not blind to the faults of her people. She abhorred the bloody sport of the bull-fight as a relic of barbarism. She was eloquent in the advocacy and prediction of a higher civilization for her people. Her principles and sentiments were noble and refined, and in the light of those principles she set out to educate her two little daughters. But she was a genuine child of the South, with the fine gifts and noble inspirations, and also with many of the extravagant vivacities of temperament, the bizarre whimsicalities of mental structure, and the singular contradictions between thought and feeling which are often bred by the Southern sun.

The social intercourse which my diplomatic position opened to me was agreeable but not extraordinarily interesting. It is believed by many, and I had shared that belief, that a diplomatic corps near a government of any importance must be composed of persons of superior ability, knowledge, and culture—a high school of state-craft, in which the intimate secrets of the art might be learned. I approached the circle with a certain awe, but found myself at ease much sooner than I had anticipated. My colleagues received me very