The Pretty Sister of José

adored. When he appeared in the ring, what a roar of applause went up. When he made his proud bow to the president, and said, "I go to slay this bull for the honor of the people of Madrid and the most excellent president of this tourney," and threw his hat away and moved forward, waving his scarlet cloak, what excitement there was awakened. Songs were sung about him in the streets, fans were ornamented with pictures of his daring deeds, there were stories of great ladies who had wept their eyes out for love of him, and as to the women of his own class, there was not a girl in Madrid who did not dream of him.

"Why?" said Pepita, in her cold, soft voice, and with the simply cold and curious look in her great, richly lashed eyes.

"Because they are in love with him--all of them," replied Manuel, sweepingly.

"Why?" said Pepita, again.

"' Why?'" Manuel echoed, somewhat bewildered by the frank, indifferent ignoring of all natural reasons in this question--"'why?' Because he is so tall an