Thurstane was also busy, working all day and half of the night over his government accounts, so that he might if possible get off with Clara.
Coronado thought of making interest with the post-commandant to have Thurstane kept a few days in Santa Fe.

But the post-commandant was a grim and taciturn old major, who looked him through and through with a pair of icy gray eyes, and returned brief answers to his musical commonplaces.
Coronado did not see how he could humbug him, and concluded not to try it.
The attempt might excite suspicion; the major might say, "How is this your business ?" So, after a little unimportant tattle, Coronado made his best bow to the old fellow, and hurried off to oversee his so-called cousin.
In the evening he brought Garcia to call on the ladies.

Aunt Maria was rather surprised and shocked to see such an excellent man look so much like an infamous scoundrel.

"But good people are always plain," she reasoned; and so she was as cordial to him as one can be in English to a saint who understands nothing but Spanish.

Garcia, instructed by Coronado, could not bow low enough nor smile greasily enough at Aunt Maria.