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 tude, had bound them in strange sympathy all the years after.

Now Cecilia was gray and wrinkled, aged by the hardship of her lot twenty years before her time, but no older, indeed, than Doña Carlota, whose hair was showing only a little sprinkling of the salt of time, and this easily hidden by drawing the untainted locks down over it. But Cecilia's fingers remained as cunning as ever, and to Cecilia's art Helena turned for assistance in contriving the flag that Henderson required for his staff.

"We cannot make all the little stars, Helena, and have it finished before Roberto comes," Cecilia said. "The stitching around the edges to hold them when the wind blows would take hours alone."

Cecilia looked out of the door as she spoke, and turned her ear to listen for horses on the hard road.

"They are not coming yet, Cecilia?"

"No, but they will come. Roberto will be full of fire and spite, like a cat. Let us cut two stars for each side, one for you, one for Don Gabriel."

Helena hesitated, shears idle a moment in her hand. Presently she shook her head.

"No. I do not know that my star belongs with Don Gabriel's," she said.

"There is no doubt of that. Two stars"

"One," said Helena decisively, shaping it hastily.

The little community had been laid under tribute to furnish the color for the flag, but it was the