The present bearer of the name was of distinguished appearance. He
was swarthy of skin, his hair was snow-white, and he had stern,
black eyes of great intelligence. In size he was not above the
medium, but his manner fully made up for any deficiency of
stature. He was courtly and deliberate, evincing a pride that
sprang not only from good blood but from good deeds. His poise was
that of a man with heavy responsibilities, for Andres Garavel was
a careful banker and a rich one. He was widely travelled, well-
informed, an agreeable talker, and the conversation at Mrs.
Cortlandt's table did not lag.
"I am so disappointed that your daughter could not come," Edith
told him for the second time. "I'm afraid she objects to our
American informality."
"No, no, my dear lady," said their guest. "She admires American
customs, as I do. We are progressive--we have travelled. In my
home, in my private life, perhaps, I am Panamanian, but in my
business and in my contact with other peoples I am as they are. It
is the same with my daughter."
"When you Latins really become cosmopolitan you are more so than
we Americans," Cortlandt acknowledged. "We assume foreign airs and
customs that please us and forget to retain our own, while you--
well, with Germans you are German, with Englishmen you are
English, and yet you never forget to be Spaniards.
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