So it is with Harry.

He wouldn't be the lovable, dashing, high-spirited young fellow he is if he didn't kick over the traces once in a while and break everything to pieces--his promises among them.

And it isn't his fault--it's the Spanish and Dutch blood in his veins--the blood of that old hidalgo and his Dutch ancestor, De Ruyter--that crops out once in a while.

Harry would be a pirate and sweep the Spanish main if he had lived in those days, instead of being a gentleman who values nothing in life so much as the woman he loves." He had been speaking to her back all this time, the girl never moving, the outlines of her graceful body in silhouette against the blaze.
"Then why doesn't he prove it ?" she sighed.

She liked old hidalgos and had no aversion to pirates if they were manly and brave about their work.
"He does--and he lives up to his standard except in this one failing for which I am truly sorry.