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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/76495-0.txt b/76495-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..e704e69 --- /dev/null +++ b/76495-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,7785 @@ + +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 76495 *** + + +[Illustration: “PATTY CREPT BEHIND THE HEDGE AND WAITED.”] + + + + + _THE + GLAD LADY_ + + + _BY_ + + _AMY E. BLANCHARD + Author of “A Journey of Joy,” “Wits’ End,” etc._ + + [Illustration: colophon] + + + _BOSTON + DANA ESTES & COMPANY + PUBLISHERS_ + + + + + _Copyright, 1910_, + BY DANA ESTES & COMPANY + + _All rights reserved_ + + + _Presswork by + THE COLONIAL PRESS + C. H. Simonds & Co., Boston, U.S.A._ + + + + + TO + DOÑA MARTINA AND DON JUAN, + + THOSE WELL-LOVED FRIENDS WHO HAVE MADE SPAIN + FOR ME A HAPPY MEMORY, I DEDICATE THIS STORY + + A. E. B. + + + + + CONTENTS + + + CHAPTER PAGE + + I. THE PARTY ARRIVES 9 + + II. A MOUNTAIN TOWN 21 + + III. THE WALK 35 + + IV. ANTIQUITIES 48 + + V. MY OLD KENTUCKY HOME 61 + + VI. THE DAY OF SAN JUAN 76 + + VII. THE INXANOS 90 + + VIII. A ROMERIA 105 + + IX. ONLY A DONKEY 119 + + X. SANTA MARIA MARINA 133 + + XI. GIPSIES 148 + + XII. TOMÁS TELLS 163 + + XIII. THE LONG WHITE ROAD 178 + + XIV. THE SILVER MERCHANT 192 + + XV. A LONELY HILL 206 + + XVI. BY REASON OF SAINT ANTHONY 221 + + XVII. PATTY IS PUZZLED 235 + + XVIII. WAITING 249 + + XIX. DON FELIPE’S SURPRISE 264 + + XX. THE THREE WISHES 281 + + + + + LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS + + + PAGE + + “PATTY CREPT BEHIND THE HEDGE AND WAITED” + (page 236) _Frontispiece_ + + “‘HE SAYS I AM A GLAD LADY’” 33 + + “‘DON’T YOU GET HOMESICK?’” 70 + + “PERDITA” 86 + + “‘WHAT ARE YOU BEATING THAT DONKEY FOR?’” 120 + + “‘AT YOUR FEET, LADIES’” 186 + + “‘GLAD LADY!’” 286 + + + + + THE GLAD LADY + + + + + CHAPTER I + + THE PARTY ARRIVES + + +It was at San Sebastian that the various members of the party became +an integral. When separated they were quite as dissimilar as the +constituent parts of certain chemical combinations. The company was +headed by Dr. Juan Estradas who, when a lad, had rushed to the war in +Cuba, had later gone to the United States to study medicine and had +there married an American girl, known in this tale as Doña Martina. +Number three is represented by Don Tomás, the doctor’s younger brother, +who, having always remained upon Spanish soil, spoke no language but +Castilian, unless the two expressions, “Shocking” and “Awful badth +form,” may be said to display some knowledge of English. Number four +may be discerned in the person of Miss Patience Blake, commonly known +as Patty, the pretty sister of Doña Martina. A schoolmate of Miss +Patty’s, one Paulette Delambre, completes the number. + +The two girls had just arrived from a convent in France, where they had +been learning various branches supposed to be useful to young ladies: a +little embroidery, some music and water-color sketching; to these, in +Patty’s case, was added French. Neither girl knew more than three words +of Spanish and generally addressed one another in French, although +Paulette spoke English fairly well. They had but just reached their +hotel, Patty in a heated frame of mind because the customs officers +at Irun had kept them so long over their luggage that they had nearly +missed their train, and furthermore had questioned the presence of so +many new frocks. + +“They actually assailed my veracity,” she explained to her sister, “and +it didn’t help a bit when some one said that probably they thought we +were dressmakers. Do we look like dressmakers, I want to know? I wish +we had never seen your stupid old Spain.” + +She turned to Don Tomás, who simply beamed upon her, not understanding +a word she said. But seeing a fitting occasion to air his English, he +remarked, “Shocking! Awful badth form.” Then every one laughed, which +cleared the air, and the five entered their hotel in better spirits. + +Patty’s first act, after reaching her room, was to take off her hat +and fluff out her dark hair; it was Paulette who displayed rings of +red gold about her forehead and whose eyes were blue. “They always +take me for the French one,” remarked Patty, “and Paulette is always +supposed to be the American by everyone but her own countrymen. It is +rather convenient sometimes, for I hear very free criticisms of things +United States. By the way, Tina, you haven’t told us one word about +your plans. You simply wrote that we were to spend the summer in the +north of Spain and that I needn’t be afraid of melting. You’ve prinked +enough, Polly, let me come.” + +“We shall stay for a day or two in San Sebastian,” replied Doña +Martina, “and then we shall go further along the coast to a place in +the mountains or by the sea, whichever you choose to say. It is one of +the old family houses of the Estradas, and the doctor thinks it will be +an ideal spot to summer in. We have spent a little time there and he is +so enthusiastic that I have become so, too. I hope you all will like +it, Patty.” + +Patty looked over her shoulder rather ruefully. “What in the world can +we find to do? Don’t tell me I shall not have a chance to air my Paris +frocks.” + +“That is a small consideration,” said her sister. “We shall have such +air as you never breathed. We shall see such scenery as will delight +your soul, and we shall do things we never did before.” + +“What things?” inquired Patty, pulling down her belt and trying to +look at the back of her trim figure. + +“Oh, we shall have a mountain pony or a burro to take us junketing +around to all the neighboring villages; we shall go to all the fiestas, +make a trip to Covadonga; visit all the old churches and monasteries; +go fishing; take a daily dip in the sea if we like, and--What more do +you want, Patty?” + +“Men,” replied Patty sententiously. + +“Well, there is Tomás.” + +“I didn’t say _a_ man, nor _the_ man; I said men. One man won’t go +around when there are two girls.” + +“You want too much,” replied her sister. “However, I can’t say what you +may find before the summer is over. I’ll venture to say if there is a +desirable man within a radius of fifty miles he will pop out of a cave +or from the sea when you come in sight; it is always that way.” + +Patty laughed. “Tell me about Don Tomás.” + +“I wrote to you all I know about him. Juan says he is a single-hearted +unspoiled boy. Remember, Patty, that I have made my brother-in-law’s +acquaintance only within the last few days, and Juan had not seen him +for ten years till about a month ago. He was only fourteen when his +brother left home.” + +“So he is twenty-four now. He is rather nice looking, but I didn’t know +Spaniards ever had red hair. He might be an Irishman, or anything. I +am disappointed that he hasn’t melting dark eyes and shining black +hair.” + +“I should think you would like a contrast. You see dark eyes and hair +every time you look in the glass, and that is often enough, heaven +knows.” + +“You needn’t laugh, Polly,” said Patty, turning to Paulette, who showed +her appreciation of this last remark by a gay little giggle. “There +is one thing consoling about it: he may like contrasts, and unless he +is already satiated with dark Spanish types he perchance will admire +little Patty Blake.” + +“He hasn’t a penny; at least he has very little,” returned Doña Martina +quickly. + +“That wouldn’t prevent his admiring me,” retorted Patty calmly. “I +didn’t say I wanted to marry him offhand.” + +“You are a fleert incorrigible,” said Paulette, coming into the +conversation. + +“I am sure I don’t know where you have made your observations, surely +not at the convent,” Patty remarked. + +“I use my ear, not my eye alone, and I am sorree for zat nice young +man.” + +“Oho!” Patty turned to look at her quizzically. “I see I must be +polishing up my armor. Come on, girls, let us go down. Juan told us not +to be too long, and we want to see what we can of the outside world +before we go into retreat.” + +“You talk as if you were going back to the convent,” said her sister. +“You know it will not be like that. Weren’t you happy there, Patty?” +She put her arm affectionately across her sister’s shoulder. + +“Oh, yes, happy enough, but one can get tired even of a good thing. I +am glad not to be going back.” + +“I wish we could stay a long time here at San Sebastian, if you would +like that,” returned her sister wistfully, “but you know we aren’t +rich, Patty, and this is a very expensive place for persons of our +means.” + +“Bless you, honey,” whispered Patty giving her a hug; “I’m only +fooling, Tina. I don’t really care a rap about staying. I am sure it +will be far nicer, much more romantic, and distinctly more interesting +to go to that queer mountain place that nobody ever hears about much +less goes to. Don’t mind my nonsense; I am only showing off before +Polly. Don’t you think she is rather nice considering that she has +money? Would you ever suspect it?” + +“She seems very nice, and, no, I shouldn’t suspect. One doesn’t usually +expect a fact of that kind to be very apparent in one who is truly a +lady, you know.” + +“Of course. I know that, but she hasn’t any people, you see, and +doesn’t come of the aristocracy. She has a stuffy old shopkeeping uncle +or guardian or something of that kind, but I never heard her speak +of anyone else belonging to her. She was so delighted when you said +she might come. She is the nicest French girl of the whole bunch and +there were plenty to choose from at the convent. I find, Tina, that it +doesn’t make much difference about nationality: it is just individuals.” + +“I’ve found that out, too,” responded Doña Martina, “otherwise I should +never have married Juan.” + +“He is a dear,” Patty agreed, “so generous and courteous, and the soul +of honor.” + +“And he is so constant and faithful, dear soul. Indeed, Patty, I might +have gone far afield in many a country and never have met a finer man.” + +“So glad you’re pleased, dear,” returned Patty lightly. “Now, if you +are ready, let us go down and see the world, the flesh, and the devil.” + +“The world is out on the Esplanade; there is plenty of flesh there, +too, you will find, while, to quote Emerson, ‘even the dear old devil +is not far off.’” + +Patty laughed and the sisters returned to the room where they had left +Paulette, then the three descended to the corridor to find Don Juan +and his brother pacing up and down talking earnestly and with many +gestures. “Are they quarrelling already?” asked Patty, pausing on the +lower step and looking after the two men. + +“Quarrelling? No, of course not,” Doña Martina answered with a smile. +“That is only a little way they have when they are interested. It may +be only the weather of which they are talking.” + +“Never,” declared Patty. “I am enthusiastic myself, but I never could +get up such an intensity of expression, such violence of action over +such a simple matter as the weather.” + +“You’re not a Spaniard,” returned her sister. + +“Let us ask them the subject of their discourse and settle it at once,” +proposed Patty; “it would be interesting to know.” + +They advanced toward the two men, who now hurried forward with +apologies for not having seen them sooner. + +“And what were you talking about that you couldn’t see us?” Patty asked +Don Juan. + +“What? Let me see, what. Simple matters enough; of what we may be +having for luncheon, of the report that we shall have rain to-night.” + +Doña Martina brought her hands softly together. “What did I tell you?” +she exclaimed with a nod toward her sister. “I said it might be the +weather.” + +“Yes, but the other subject: luncheon, warranted any amount of +excitement,” returned Patty as they all turned toward the dining-room. + +An hour later the party was included in the throng which promenaded +the Esplanade. To Patty’s share fell Don Tomás as escort. “It is +very beautiful,” said the girl with a wave of the hand toward the +rock-encircled harbor. + +“Shocking,” replied Don Tomás with a desire to say something his +companion could understand. + +“Oh, no, not at all.” Patty turned to speak to her sister. “Come here, +Tina, and walk with us; we need a translator.” + +Doña Martina joined the two. + +“Tell him,” said Patty, “that I will teach him English if he will teach +me Spanish.” + +Her sister bent a searching look upon the girl’s innocently grave face. +“Very well,” she said. “He agrees,” she went on after a few words in +Spanish to her brother-in-law. + +“Is he delighted at my gracious suggestion? He ought to be.” + +“Why, any more than you?” + +“Because he is a man.” + +“That is no reason.” + +“It is to me. All right, Tina, you may go back to your husband. We +shall get along now, no doubt, since he knows what is expected of him.” + +“I shall walk with you two,” said Doña Martina firmly. “You are not to +be trusted.” + +“Oh nonsense! You can keep your stern eye upon us all you like, but +I shall be embarrassed if you are listening to my faltering tongue +lisping in Castilian. Go back or Juan will be jealous.” + +“What a silly speech. However, I will go because I want to, and +because it is reasonable to believe you will get on better if I am not +listening.” + +In a few minutes there was low laughter heard from the two, who plunged +into a halting conversation, and it was evident that the progress was +pleasant if not rapid. + +It was a gay scene. Representatives from all parts of the world joined +in the crowd which watched the bathers. Nurse-maids with their charges, +Spanish girls wearing mantillas, vendors of all sorts, newsboys, +American tourists, Englishmen, Frenchmen, Moors, matadors, Spanish +dons, fat old ladies puffing along with waddling poodles, fat old men +with the visible expression of having sacrificed normal proportions +to good living, wicked looking cavaliers with black moustachios, and +in their eyes the smouldering flames of burnt-out fires, prattling +children, innocent school-girls with their governesses, romping +school-boys passed and repassed in endless parade. It was, as Patty +said, a corner of the universe where the world, the flesh and the devil +met. + +“And what did you learn from Tomás?” asked Don Juan when they had +returned. + +“I learned that _una señorita es maravillosa_.” + +“And he?” + +“Oh, he learned, ‘the aith of a ’orse.’” + +“Now, Patty,” put in her sister. + +“Truly, Tina, he did.” + +“And nothing more?” + +“Ask him,” said Patty, walking away. + +Her sister followed. “Patty, I warned you that he has not a penny, not +a _perrono_.” + +“Did I say I wanted his _perronos_ or even _pesetas_?” + +“No, but--” + +“What?” + +“You mustn’t try to ensnare him.” + +“Do you care more for him than for me?” + +“Of course not, but I want to protect him.” + +“I thought you meant to be my chaperon. How do you know but that I am +the one who needs protection?” + +“I know you better than I do him.” + +“Then, my dear, wait till you know him better before you take him under +your sheltering wing. He may be a wolf in sheep’s clothing, and I an +innocent lamb for all you know.” + +“He is a single-hearted, unspoiled boy, as I told you, not one of those +blasé creatures you might find in Madrid or Paris, and you are not to +make him unhappy.” + +“Don’t you want me to have a good time?” + +“Not at the expense of someone else. I didn’t think you were +hard-hearted, Patty.” + +“And all this because I taught him to say ‘the aith of a ’orse.’” Patty +spoke in an injured tone. + +“If I could be sure that were all.” + +“Oh, my dear, would you have me confine his English to that sentence +only? When he really wants to learn must he stop there? and must I let +him teach me nice things in Spanish while he learns only Ollendorf +English? I certainly would be hard-hearted if I tried to be as mean as +that. Trust the young man to take care of himself. As for me, like the +pussy cat in the nursery rhyme, ‘if you don’t hurt her she’ll do you +no harm.’ Now, Tina, dear, don’t get into agonies over me. I’m not as +dreadful as I appear upon first sight, and your dear little red-headed +Tomás shall not break his nice warm Spanish heart. I’ll be a good girl, +Tina, truly and--No I won’t tell you that, it would be too great a blow +to my self-esteem if you should agree with me. I’ll tell Polly. Where +is she?” + +What she had to tell Paulette Tina did not find out, but whatever it +was, certain it appeared that Paulette’s eyes fell before a stolen +glance Tomás gave her as she took her seat opposite him at table that +evening. + + + + + CHAPTER II + + A MOUNTAIN TOWN + + +“Corn-fields!” cried Patty, looking from the window as the train +proceeded on its way toward Bilbao. “We might almost think it our +native land.” + +“Not with a tenth century monastery in sight,” returned her sister. + +“Quite true, but I hadn’t seen the tenth century monastery when I +spoke. Those are surely fig trees. Where corn and apples grow can there +be figs? At least one doesn’t learn from our geographies that they +flourish together.” + +“They do here,” Don Juan told her. “You must prepare to have more than +one surprise, _hermana mia_.” + +“I’m beginning to get them. What gorgeous views. Spain is fine. I +imagined it a dry and arid plain with a weazened tree sticking up once +in a while out of the dust.” + +“It isn’t all like this,” her sister admitted, “but you will have to +confess that Asturias is wonderful.” + +“And Asturians?” with a sly glance at Tomás. + +Doña Martina frowned and Patty laughed gleefully, while Tomás looked +from one to the other interrogatively. “She is a naughty child,” Doña +Martina told him in his own language. + +“She is a charming one nevertheless,” returned Tomás in the same tongue. + +“What does _deleitosa_ mean?” asked Patty, rapidly turning over the +leaves of the small dictionary she carried. + +“It is not necessary to know,” replied Doña Martina, in dignified +reproof. + +“You look so funny when you purse up your lips that way, Tina,” said +Patty, “exactly as you used when I was a little girl and would pick +green gooseberries from the bushes. You have always thought you must be +the one to bring me to task, being ten years older. Oh, I have found +the word. Now, what must I say? _Gracias señor. Me gusto mucho._ Is +that right, Juan?” She turned to her brother-in-law, who smiled an +indulgent affirmative. + +“I shall beat you with my Spanish, Polly,” Patty went on, “and I +venture to say I shall learn it before Don Tomás does English. I rather +hope I may, for it is so funny to hear him say goomans for women, and +moosilahga for mucilage. However, I wish there were a language we +both knew and which you didn’t, Tina, then we certainly would enjoy +ourselves.” + +“Do not listen to her, Doña Martina,” said Paulette, “she does but to +tease you.” + +“I do but to look out the window at present,” said Patty. “See those +stunning looking men. I should say they were Englishmen.” + +“They probably are,” Don Juan told her. “There are quite a number +connected with the mines in northern Spain. These may be mining +engineers.” + +“Oh!” Patty watched the three well set up figures approaching the train +from the small station at which they had just stopped. “Do you know any +of them, Juan?” she asked. + +“I have met two or three and have found them very agreeable men. One +sees them in Gijon or Santander, but rarely in our little pueblo.” + +The train moved on, now passing a white village cuddled in the +hollow of a mountain, now by reason of a twist in the road, suddenly +disclosing a glimpse of the sea overhung by bold promontories, again +affording a view of a gray convent perched high on the top of a +craggy height, then corn-fields again offering little variety till +a picturesque procession of gipsies or a cow-cart led by a stalwart +mountaineer lent life to the scene. + +In the course of time Bilbao was reached, a night was spent there +and then the beaten path of the tourist was left behind and the +unfrequented roads of Asturias were entered. From height to height, +from village to hamlet, the train wound its way, until at last Tomás +exclaimed, “Here we arrive,” and springing to his feet he gathered the +coats, bags and umbrellas from the racks, and in a few minutes the +train had moved off, leaving the five standing on the platform. + +Patty looked about her. “So this is it,” she said to Paulette. + +“And it is in ze mountains as we are hoping. Zey are on all side and +how beautiful.” + +“It is beautiful and unlike anything I ever knew. Now where do we go? +Are we to walk or ride, Tina?” + +“It is only a short walk to the _fonda_ where we are to stop for a few +days while our house is being made ready.” + +“_Fonda?_ Oh, yes, that means the inn. And when we get there shall we +know it by any sign?” + +“No, there is nothing to distinguish it to the uninitiated, but it is +known to the people hereabouts as _Fonda de Victor_ on account of the +man who owns it.” + +“Pigs! Tina, I smell them.” + +“You may see them, for they are quite free to run the streets, but that +odor, my dear, is only oil, unrefined oil, used by the peasants for +cooking.” + +“It is ghastly.” + +“You won’t mind it after a while.” + +“No, I believe I shall not.” Patty sniffed the air. “Now I know what +it really is, it doesn’t seem so disagreeable. I recognize an olivish +quality to it, and it really is not so terrific as I imagined. Such is +the power of mind over matter. What’s that awful noise? Why don’t they +grease their cart-wheels?” + +“My dear girl, they wouldn’t for the world,” Don Juan hastened to say. +“Do you see those little narrow roads winding up the mountains? Suppose +one cow-cart should meet another without warning what happens unless +they know by the creak of the wheels that another is coming? If they +did not hear how could they turn aside in the proper place?” + +“They sound like the hugest kind of buzzing creature. I suppose one +gets used to it after a while, but I do hope and trust they do not +start forth early in the morning or I foresee that my morning nap is +lost.” + +“They do start out rather early in the morning,” Don Juan was obliged +to confess, “but you will get used to them, too.” + +“And is this the place, this long white building? Isn’t it fascinating? +though it is primitive with a vengeance.” + +A dark-eyed, buxom woman came hurrying out to meet them with many +expressions of welcome, and a timid little handmaid hovered in the +background, all interest to see the _Inglesas_ and their friend, +Mlle. Delambre, less a person of importance. The little _fonda_ was +scrupulously clean, the board floors scrubbed white, though innocent +of rug or carpet, the beds were soft, the home-spun linen fresh and +sweet-smelling, the white-washed walls showed no mark nor speck. The +small _mirador_ faced the _plaza_, at once the center of the town and +the market-place. Here, too, took place any special event, such as a +comedia or a dance. Under the wide-branched tree on one side was the +village fountain, whose constantly flowing stream sang a little tune +in a pleasant tinkle which told of clear cold mountain sources from +which the town was abundantly supplied. There was scarce a cessation of +comings and goings from the fountain. Slim girls with buckets poised +on their heads, old women who adjusted their circular pads carefully +before lifting their water jar to its place, tiny children who carried +their burdens unsteadily, but who, to imitate their elders, before +filling their small pails, took up a handful of sand to scrub the +vessel outside and in, that it might always be bright and shining. A +fine odor of newly baked loaves came from the bakery opposite and above +the tap-tap of the shoemaker upon his last arose his clear song in some +weird Asturian ballad. Beyond all, against the bluest of skies, were +the mountains. + +Patty leaned her elbows upon the railing of the _mirador_ and viewed it +all. + +“How do you like it?” asked Paulette, coming and putting an arm around +her friend. + +“Immensely. And you?” + +“It is delightful. How primitive! How rural!” + +“Rural indeed. See that lordly pig grunting around below there, and +turkeys as I live, not to mention a host of chickens and, oh, the +dogs, what a company of them. I see where those stale biscuits go, the +ones we bought on our way here and couldn’t eat. Don’t you like these +little balconies with the flowers swinging from them? I hope there are +balconies at Juan’s house. There must be, I suppose, for all Spanish +houses seem to have them.” + +“Where are we to hang our frocks?” + +“Oh, dear, where indeed? On the floor, I reckon. We’d better not unpack +much, only what we shall need for a few days. Tina hopes we can leave +by the end of the week. It is too bad we could not go at once to the +house, but Juan says this is the best _fonda_ about and it is something +of a novelty to stay here.” + +“What must the others be?” + +“I can’t imagine, though there is nothing to complain of here. I am +sure it was not much better at the convent. We lack clothes presses, to +be sure. They say the food is good, all oil, I suppose judging from +the odors now arising.” + +A gentle tap at the door interrupted them. “_Á comer_,” said the little +maid to whom they opened. + +“What do you suppose that means?” said Patty looking at Paulette. + +“Dinner, perhaps.” + +Patty went through the motions of eating, looking inquiringly at +Consuelo who, though amused, nodded gravely and beckoned them to follow +her. + +They found Doña Martina, Don Juan and Tomás seated at a long table +where there were two other guests, one a _viajante_ or traveling man, +the other Patty concluded to be an Englishman. Nothing could be more +courteously polite than the _viajante_. “He ate with his knife yet his +attentions to us might put a courtier to the blush,” Doña Martina said +afterward. + +Little Consuelo ran hither and thither, so anxious for the _Inglesas_ +to be pleased that she watched every mouthful they ate with an absorbed +interest. “As if,” said Patty, “the entire foundations of the kingdom +would totter if we failed to do justice to each dish.” + +The _comedor_ was the room in which first-class guests alone were +served. Below stairs in the wine shop were tables for the second and +third class meals, these varying in quality according to the price. +Matilda herself, supervised all. Her loud though kindly voice and her +quick step were heard when one passed near the kitchen, and woe be to +the _vaquero_ who might royster too uproariously. + +The _viajante_ conversed affably with Don Juan. The Englishman made a +single remark to Don Tomás which, not being understood caused a lapse +into silence on the part of the Britisher. “I knew he was English,” +said Patty in a low voice to her sister as the young man’s tall +athletic figure disappeared in the doorway. “I couldn’t be mistaken. He +is one of those whom we saw getting on the train at Llanes I am sure. +One of the kind of Englishman whose chief ambition in life seems to be +to look more bored than any other Englishman. I wonder why he didn’t +vouchsafe a remark to some of us who could speak his own language.” + +“Well, you see he was at the other end of the table. Juan was speaking +Spanish to the _viajante_, Tomás and I were conversing in the same +language while you and Paulette were chattering in French.” + +“What’s he doing in Spain if he doesn’t speak Spanish?” + +“The same thing that you are doing, perhaps.” + +Patty laughed at the retort. “Never mind, I shall speak only in English +to-morrow and then we shall see. Why don’t you chide me, Tina? Reproof +is in order.” + +“Anything to keep you from luring Tomás into your toils.” + +“Oh, Tomás!” Patty gave a glance in that young man’s direction. “Of +course he counts, too. I shall not be afraid of having to talk to both. +Paulette can have the traveling gentleman. Can you and Juan go with us +to hunt up a drug store? There are some things we want. I suppose there +is one.” + +“I really don’t know, but I will ask Juan.” + +“Meantime I will have a lesson from Tomás, for I do not mean to remain +in ignorance of things I might know when it depends upon a little study +to gain the knowledge.” + +As they left the _fonda_ to follow the long white road for a short +distance they observed the Englishman pacing up and down, taking the +solace of his pipe. “I know he is lonely, poor fellow,” remarked Patty. +“I don’t suppose Juan could invite him to go with us, could he?” + +“Juan is not going with us; he has some letters to write,” said Doña +Martina shortly. + +“Did he tell you where to find the drug store?” + +“Yes, it is in the jail building.” + +“Heavens! what a combination. Healing for bodily ills on one hand and +punishment on the other. And where is Tomás?” + +“He is helping Juan.” + +“Then we go alone, do we? Is it safe?” + +“Do you imagine that bandits are going to descend upon us from the +mountains? You couldn’t be safer in your own room, and you’re far safer +than you would be at home. Come along, Patty, and don’t be so silly.” + +“You see Paulette and I have been so used to being Argus-eyed by a +sister we don’t dare move without one.” + +“And am I not sister enough?” + +“Oh, well, yes, but I can’t get accustomed to your being a proper +chaperon although you have tried to serve in that capacity ever since +I was born. You don’t tell me this is the place? Why, it looks like a +plain stone house.” + +“Yes, I am sure this is the place.” + +“But there is no light.” + +“We will knock.” After some banging on the door they heard footsteps +coming down the stairs, keys jingled and a bolt was drawn back, then a +man appeared, candle in hand. Evidently trade was not so brisk as to +require the constant presence of the druggist in the shop. He ushered +them into a queer little place, fumbled sleepily around among the +shelves and finally produced the articles they wanted, the door was +locked and bolted after them and they returned to the _fonda_. The +whiff of a pipe and the appearance of a figure which stepped out of the +shadow told them that the Englishman was following. + +“I do believe he came behind us all the way,” whispered Patty, “just to +see that no harm befell us. That was rather nice, I think.” + +“It was entirely unnecessary,” replied her sister, “and I am not sure +but that it was impertinent.” + +“Oh, Tina. I don’t believe that, do you, Paulette?” + +“It maybe was an impertinence,” said Paulette after a little hesitation. + +“Oh bless me! How suspicious you are. Of course it would necessarily +be so in your country,” returned Patty annoyed at this construction. +“For my part I think it was a nice knightly thing to do. Quite like an +American and a Southerner at that.” + +“Oh, dear me, Patty,” Doña Martina began, “if you begin to create +knights in this free and easy style I don’t know where you will land. +Give you a bone and you will construct a mastodon any time.” + +“A little imagination is an excellent thing to have in the family,” +retorted Patty. “It comes in very handily sometimes. I adore my +imagination; I wouldn’t be without it for the world. You and Paulette +are of the earth. My golden flower of knighthood may be nothing +but a yellow primrose on the river’s brim to you, but oh, my heart, who +knows what it may prove to be in my eyes.” + +[Illustration: “‘HE SAYS I AM A GLAD LADY.’”] + +“It may prove to be an inexpressible bore,” replied her sister. “There +come Tomás and Juan to meet us.” + +“I’m glad of it. Now we can take a longer walk in this lovely air. I +feel the need of it after two days of travel.” + +The party, reinforced by Don Juan and his brother, wandered up the long +windings of the little village, white in the starlight. From over the +high walls of the gardens stole sweet odors, the tinkle of a mandolin +and the gay jangle of a tambourine came from the _patio_ of a small +house. A couple of strolling youths did not cease their song as they +passed, and when the party paused at the little bridge which spanned +a small stream leaping over its pebbly bed, they could distinguish a +murmur underlying the more insistent sounds. + +“_Me gusta mucho_,” said Patty turning to Tomás. + +“_Me alegro infinito_,” said Paulette, and Patty found that Paulette +likewise sought to take advantage of opportunities, and that upon the +garden of her understanding were also falling the seeds of knowledge. + +Yet so merry was Patty that Tomás with a slow striving for English +words, said, “You are always a gladth ladthy, Miss Pattee.” + +Patty laughed. “Do you hear what your brother calls me, Juan?” she +asked. “He says I am a glad lady.” + +“An excellent name for you,” Don Juan responded. + +“It suits her exactly, Tomás,” agreed Doña Martina. + +“She is always to laugh herself,” explained Tomás. “She is so joyful.” + + + + + CHAPTER III + + THE WALK + + +The next day the family dined alone. The _viajante_ with his big wagon +drawn by sturdy mules with gay trappings and jangling bells, had +departed, while the smoke of the Englishman’s pipe was no longer wafted +upon the air. “It seems sort of lonely,” remarked Patty, “and I didn’t +have a chance to see my knight gallop off wearing my gage upon his +sleeve.” + +“Good reason why,” said Doña Martina: “he went by train, and he would +have looked well, wouldn’t he, wearing a gage upon his sleeve? with +that bored look of his.” + +Patty sighed melodramatically. “I shall have to give all my attention +to Tomás then,” she said, “a good thing for my Spanish, perhaps. I have +a new incentive, for I believe Paulette is trying to get ahead of me; +she reels off her sentences with an _aplomb_ positively appalling. I’ve +been devoting myself to those dreadful verbs, you see, while she has +been increasing her vocabulary. Shall I ever compass _Ser_ and _Estar_, +do you believe?” + +“I shouldn’t try to at once. Much better adopt Paulette’s method.” + +“So I shall from henceforth, and I’ll plunge in boldly without +waiting to be exact. I know it is the best way, but I am so proud and +conscientious, you know.” + +“I am aware of the pride, but I have yet to be impressed by the +conscientiousness.” + +“You are too mean for words, Tina. To think that you should enjoy +abusing your poor little sister in the way that you do is dreadful, and +when she has just escaped from the rigors of a convent too.” + +“My poor little sister thrives under the abuse, it seems.” + +“You always take everyone’s part against me. One would suppose, for +example, that Tomás was your sure enough brother and I only your +sister-in-law.” + +Doña Martina was silent for a moment, feeling there was some truth in +the remark. “Well, you see,” she began, “I don’t want you to throw +yourself away on a poor man like Tomás. I am afraid you would not be +happy if you married him.” + +“I’m not marrying him.” + +“You might.” + +“Well, suppose I should. I’m sure we could get along. Haven’t you been +telling me that one can rent a nice little house for forty dollars +a year, hire a servant for three or four dollars a month and buy a +donkey for seven? What more could one ask? It is a paradise for poor +people from your own account. Why shouldn’t I settle down here, too, to +a love-in-a-cottage existence? I should think you would be delighted to +have me for a neighbor.” + +“Oh, Patty dear, so I should.” Her sister came over and took the girl’s +face between her hands. “I never know when you are serious, dear. You +talk so much nonsense. If you were really to fall in love, you two, and +could be happy living that way, why of course--” + +Patty laughed gleefully. “Oh, you darling old thing! Of course I am not +serious. I couldn’t stand it, not even to be near you. I should die of +the blues when winter came.” + +“But winter here is not dreary a bit. The flowers bloom in the garden +all the year around; you should see the geraniums--and if one has a few +friends they are enough. Of course we came here originally for Juan’s +health. After that dreadful illness of his last winter it seemed the +best thing to do and he pined for his native air. You see how much good +it has done him; he is quite another man, and as long as it makes him +happy to stay I shall not say a word.” + +“I fancy he will get tired of it after a while and will want a broader +field for his energies.” + +“Perhaps, but I shall try to be content either way. At least,” she +added after a pause, “I shall be while I have you with me. There is +such freedom from the rush and worry of a big city and we can live on +so very little. Then, too, it is such a pleasure for Juan and Tomás to +be near one another after the long separation.” + +“What did Tomás do before you all came?” + +“Oh, he had an old housekeeper who did very well for him, and he has +his friends both here and in the towns near by.” + +“Fancy my ever marrying a Spaniard,” said Patty after a moment’s +silence. + +“No one could be truer, more faithful and honorable than my husband. +Spaniards are much like other folk, there are good and bad among them; +so far I have found the good to predominate. Do you find all our own +countrymen absolutely blameless? The Spaniards are proud, to be sure.” + +“I’ve been looking for that far-famed Spanish pride,” said Patty, “but +up to the present I have discovered only the frankest conceit, and have +been wondering if that passes for pride.” + +“Oh, conceit isn’t confined to Spaniards. I’d like you to find anything +more conceited than an out and out American or Englishman?” + +“Not in just the same way. There is a childishness about the Spaniard’s +conceit.” + +“Which makes it much more endurable.” + +“Dear me, how we do argue in and out, first on one side and then on +the other. All right, Tina, I’ll consider it.” + +“Don’t you make Tomás unhappy, that is all I ask. I don’t want you to +get him into your toils and then drop him.” + +“How can I tell anything about him unless I do get him into my toils as +you express it?” + +“Oh, go ’long, you foolish child; you are too much for me.” + +“I’m too much for myself sometimes,” confessed Patty. She went to the +window and began dropping bits of biscuit to the turkey-hen below, who +turned a mild eye upward and solicited the alms in a little cooing +voice. “I never knew that turkey-hens had such lovely eyes,” remarked +Patty; “this one is quite fascinating which is more than I can say of +the pig. Oh, come here, Tina, and see these beauty parrots, two of +them. A man has brought them out from the next house and has set them +free on the _plaza_. They are walking all about and are so funny.” + +“The _plaza_ is the place where everything goes on,” returned her +sister. “It is a very diverting place, I find. There comes Juan walking +as if an idea had suddenly cropped up in his cranium.” + +“He is not coming at such a pace as warrants us to think there is +anything very exciting on hand.” + +“His pace is quite energetic for a Spaniard. Don’t you know, my dear, +that it is very inelegant to seem hurried in Spain? If you wish to be +considered a lady of quality, you must merely saunter; never seem in a +hurry to get anywhere.” + +“Oh dear, and I do love to fly along. I like to walk with vim and take +my exercise as if I enjoyed it.” + +“Don’t do it in Spain. Well?” Doña Martina leaned over to speak to her +husband who had paused beneath the balcony. “Would we like to go to a +peasant’s home to see an ancient loom? A patient of yours? Old Antonia? +Why, I am sure we should like it. You would wouldn’t you, Patty?” + +“I’d delight in it. Where’s Polly? I know she will be ready for any +sort of outing.” + +“We can come around by the _playa_ if you care to walk so far,” Don +Juan told them as the three joined him below stairs. + +“And what is the _playa_, please?” asked Paulette. + +“The seashore, the beach.” + +“Oh, do let us go there. I have been crazy to see it,” said Patty. “We +can walk any distance, can’t we, Polly?” + +“Oh, yes, to be sure. I, too, wish to see the sea, that bay of Biscay +of which we hear so much.” + +“It is really just like the sea, I suppose, for the bay is only a part +of the ocean curving down a little towards Spain. Is this where the +weaver lives?” + +“Yes. She weaves only very coarse linen for household use, but the +loom is a very old one which has been in use a hundred years at least; +no one knows how long, and the house, too, is quite well worth seeing +as a type of those in which the peasants live. You will not think them +so badly housed. Antonia is poor, but you will see she has certain +comforts.” + +“And where is Tomás?” asked Patty. + +“He is coming. He went to the post-office and will meet us here.” +The visit to the weaver was soon over. While the girls examined the +loom the doctor made his call upon his patient, then Don Tomás joined +them and up the long _carretero_ they sauntered. Once in a while a +light-hearted teamster passed them, lolling back in his wagon and +singing some weird song whose final note poised and echoed long after +the sound of the wagon wheels ceased. Then, too, they met brown peasant +women carrying burdens upon their heads which did not prevent them +from giving a “_Buenos tardes_,” or a “_Vaya V. con Dios_.” A little +maid minding a couple of sheep, a goat, and a cow as they cropped the +wayside grass, interested Patty. “Do they allow that?” she asked. “I +mean, why doesn’t everyone herd their cows and sheep along the road?” + +“Juana’s family have been granted special privileges,” Doña Martina +answered. “You will find some odd customs here.” + +“Here we turn off,” said Don Juan. “The old house just ahead is the +one to which we go next. In former times it was occupied by a bishop, +and there are interesting inscriptions over the doors and windows. It +is an extremely old house and has withstood the attacks of war.” + +“What war?” asked Paulette. + +“I am sorry to say it was your own nation which committed the outrages +of which you can see many evidences in this part of the country.” + +A flight of stone steps led to the dimly lighted room at the doorway of +which they were met by a dignified old woman who ushered them in with +the air of one accustomed to receive honorable guests. The room was +of good size but showed the ravages of time. It was simply furnished, +though some rare old chests showed fine carvings, the wooden seats +would have delighted an antiquarian, while the ancient windows and +casements permitted no doubt of the extreme age of the house. All was +neat and orderly, but the utmost simplicity prevailed. The kitchen +utensils of copper and brass shone brightly, and there were a few +specimens of old pottery on the shelves, but no more than necessity +demanded. + +Patty looked with interest upon the primitive fireplace. “It is exactly +the same kind of thing you can imagine Sarah cooked Abraham’s dinner +upon,” she remarked. “How do they manage it? It looks just like an +altar.” + +“The fire is kindled on the top of the--altar as you call it, and the +food is cooked over that,” her sister told her. + +“Isn’t it primitive?” + +“Very, but it is wonderful what a variety of food can be cooked in that +simple manner, and it is more surprising that it is cooked so well.” + +“Is that the only kind of stove you have in your kitchen?” + +“About the same.” + +“Good! then I shall see how it is used and when I keep house in Spain I +shall not be at a loss if my cook leaves suddenly.” + +Her sister shook her head at this offending speech and turned her +attention to Paulette who was examining the rudely hewn timbers, black +with age. Old Francesca was pouring out her woes into Don Juan’s +sympathetic ears. She was bent with rheumatism, for the cure of which +she had offered candles to the saints in vain. “She belongs to a good +old family,” Don Juan told them as they came away, “but they became +impoverished, and now Francesca has not the comforts she needs. She has +to work in the fields and that is not good for her.” + +“That old woman?” + +“Yes, you may see her and her sister in the haying season bringing in +all the hay to fill their loft. I have seen the two of them bent under +such a load as hid them from sight.” + +“Yet she has some valuable old possessions; why doesn’t she sell them?” + +“First, because she could not be induced to part from them, and again +because there are few purchasers of such things in this part of the +country. You are far from the track of the tourist, my dear, and +transportation over these mountain roads is expensive.” + +“Now for the _playa_,” said Doña Martina. “Paulette, my dear, your +French heels will never take you comfortably over this rough road. +Better let Tomás pilot you. Patty, Juan and I will look out for you,” +and Patty, who expected Tomás to give his attention to her, was obliged +to turn back that she might be under her sister’s wing. + +The way was lovely enough in spite of stones, for great trees met +overhead, and a little stream babbled a winding course to the sea. Wild +flowers enlivened the green, wild honeysuckle, English daisies and +big-eyed marguerites, wild rose blooms, too, spotted the bushes, and +the little partridge-pea threw its tendrils over the rocks. At last +a narrow strip of beach, with high cliffs on either side confronted +them. Great jagged pillars supported the roofs of cave-like structures, +through which one could pass to the sands beyond. + +“They look as if they had been hewn out by Hercules or Titan, or some +of those old fellows,” said Patty. “I am coming here to take a dip +sometimes. I suppose it is perfectly safe.” + +“Oh, dear, yes, and you see those great caves on each side afford +proper bath houses,” said her sister. “The unwritten law is that the +men take the right, the women the left.” + +“It is such a nice, peaceful place I should like to spend a day here +with a book and--” + +“And what?” + +“Tomás,” whispered Patty, with a little laugh. + +“You and Tomás could easily come,” replied her sister, calmly, +“although, of course, you would not be so rude as to leave Paulette at +home.” + +“She would very likely decline to go,” said Patty, willing to enter +into an argument. “I think this one trip will be enough for her French +heels.” + +“How about yours?” + +“Oh, I have a fine pair of tennis shoes at home which I shall wear next +time. I brought them purposely for rough walking, but I didn’t put them +on to-day because I didn’t know it would be rough.” + +“I shall not allow you to go off for a whole day with Tomás; it would +scandalize the community,” her sister went on. + +“When he is your brother?” + +“He is not yours.” + +“Oh, well, if that is the case, you and Juan can go, too. We can take +lunch. Juan can fish, you can go to sleep, and if Paulette decides to +go with us she can read.” + +“And what will you do?” + +“I will study Spanish with Tomás. We can find some nice little +out-of-the-way corner where we shall be undisturbed.” + +“You will? We shall see.” + +“Exactly. That is what I thought we could do. By the way, talking of +fishing, that was mighty good fish we had to-day. What was it?” + +“_Merluza_ they call it.” + +“Do they get it here?” + +“Yes, near by. We think it very fine. But Patty,” + +“Yes?” + +“Please don’t trifle with Tomás.” + +“My dear, we thrashed that out long ago, and we decided that forty +dollars a year for a house and--” + +“Do stop your foolishness. Here comes Juan,” said Martina, hastily. And +Patty was left to meditate upon her shortcomings while the other four +went to examine the curious rocks. + +She sat quite unconcernedly upon the rock where she had ensconced +herself and at last had the satisfaction of seeing Tomás advancing +toward her alone, Paulette having remained with the other two. “I was +tired; it was such a long walk,” said Patty, smiling up sweetly. Her +vocabulary was sufficient by this time to compass ordinary phrases. + +“But it is sunny and hot here; we will find the shade,” said Tomás. And +Patty had the delight of being escorted to a sequestered corner while +her sister cast anxious glances toward the spot where she had left the +girl. + + + + + CHAPTER IV + + ANTIQUITIES + + +“Paulette,” Patty spoke from the pillows against which she lay, her +arms over her head. Her dark hair had dropped in a dusky coil over +the white covers, her eyes were full of mischief. “I’ve decided to be +generous and let you have the old don. Fancy your living in a twelfth +century palace and having precious old gold cups to drink from with +wonderful old jewelry to wear.” + +“Bah!” exclaimed Paulette, “I want no old man. You are quite welcome +to your twelfth century palace. I prefer a younger house wiz a younger +man.” + +“That is because you have not judgment enough to make the most of your +opportunities. It is not every day given a girl to meet a wealthy +grandee of Spain who owns more land than anyone else for miles around, +has half a dozen old palaces, coaches and such things to burn, and +who, moreover, belongs to one of the oldest families in the country. I +am surprised, Paulette. I thought I had brought you up better than to +scorn such wonderful gifts.” + +“But, _ma chère_, you forget one very important sing.” + +“And what may that be?” + +“Suppose the gentleman prefaire my friend Pattee and do not fix the eye +upon me?” + +“Then all you have to do is to make him fix the eye upon you. As if any +man turned to black hair when golden locks come within his range of +vision. Fancy a coach and four with outriders! They say that is the way +he rides about the country.” + +“Oh, zey say, zey say a great many sings. I am not content to sit in ze +coach wiz ze old man; zat is not enough for me. When is he to arrive, +zis prince?” + +“He isn’t a prince, he is simply a blue-blood don, and he has already +arrived. I saw the back of his head as he was about to ride away +yesterday. He didn’t come in his coach and four but on horseback. He +is rather small for his age which is somewhere near seventy, he has +dispensed with some of his hair in the course of time, but is brisk and +natty. He mounted his horse with great agility and I should say that he +was good for at least ten years.” + +“He is a vidow?” + +“No, my dear, he couldn’t be under any circumstances. I believe he is +a bachelor. He has invited us all to lunch to-day and then I shall see +you weaken before the wonders of his palace. They say he spends most +of his time viewing his estates and indulging a fancy for antiques; +would we were older! He has a manager or superintendent or _mayordomo_, +or whatever you may call it, with men under him, and they say he has +so much property he doesn’t recognize his own when he meets it on the +road. It must be rather nice when you drive along and remark upon some +particularly attractive place to have your agent say: ‘That belongs to +you, sire.’ It is said that often happens in Don Felipe’s case. See +how much information I have gathered for your benefit. What Tina could +not tell me Juan was able to, as the Estradas and Velascos have been +neighbors for centuries.” + +“So kind you are, and how much of this information did you gather for +yourself?” + +“Only so much as would make me an intelligent guest to-day when we go +to the _palacio_ to lunch. It will not be a mere _merienda_, Paulette, +but a state affair when I hope all the gold dishes will be put to use +and you will be sufficiently impressed with the magnificence of your +future _ménage_.” + +“La-la-la, how you take it all for granted. So large an imagination you +have. Perhaps I spur-rn it all and desire the love in a cottage.” + +“Ah-h!” Patty sprang from the bed, turned Paulette’s face toward the +light and regarded her fixedly, then she smiled. “Well, my dear, all +I know is you won’t have to live in a hovel. With your income you +could even afford something approaching what they call a palace in +this land. Yet, I hate to see the coach and four and the gold dishes +go to waste.” + +“Zen vy not take zem yourself, if zey are so easy to be procured?” + +“Ah, why? That is what I don’t know. I rather imagine it is because +like yourself, love in a cottage appeals to my youthful fancy more +forcibly. However, one can never tell. I may fall on my knees and +adore when I see the twelfth century palace. I almost wish you had a +decided yearning for it. A real well-established rivalry would be most +exciting, and might spur me on to use my most fetching blandishments.” + +“What nonsense are you girls talking?” said Doña Martina, putting her +head in at the door. + +“Oh, we’re only discussing Don Felipe.” + +“Quarreling already over the possession of him?” + +“Yes, but not exactly in a way which would flatter his don-ship. Each +is trying to sacrifice herself for the good of the other; I want to +give him to Paulette with my blessing while she insists that I shall +take him. Queer, isn’t it?” + +“You certainly must have great confidence in your own charms. A man +who has withstood the attractions of women, young and old, for half a +century isn’t likely to succumb to two chits like you,” returned Doña +Martina, “and you might as well spare yourself further argument.” + +“Now since you say that I believe I have received the necessary +impetus,” said Patty. “Conceive of the glory it would be to storm a +fort which has held out against all former assaults and to have it +surrender to you. I have decided, Polly; you can’t have him. Mine be +the palaces, the coaches, the gold and silver, the jewels rare. ‘They +say I may marry the laird if I will,’” she sang, dropping into a +Spanish dance. + +“Isn’t she silly?” asked Doña Martina. “We know just how much of what +she is saying she means.” + +“Wait till this afternoon,” said Patty, pausing in her dance. “I am +going to find Juan, you two can entertain one another till I get back.” + +“She is not half so frivolous as she seems,” remarked Doña Martina, +when Patty left the room. “She has much good sense and you should see +her rise to an emergency.” + +“She is so glad to be free of convent life; I sink it zat reason +which makes her volatile,” returned Paulette, “but I know her serious +and earnest, too. I see zat side at times. She says many sings to be +talking. As you Americans say, she speaks by ze hat.” + +Doña Martina laughed. “That is quite true, Paulette.” + +“She is so good company. All ze girls like her, and ze sisters look +over many sings zey will not excuse in ozzers, for she is so studious, +so alert. Zey say, ‘Ah, zat Mademoiselle Blake, she is American, she +does not know better,’ and we all smile for we understand. It is Patty +and zat is sufficient for us.” + +“I can understand, too,” said Doña Martina. “I try to be severe with +her and she turns my own weapons against me. She can already wheedle +Juan into anything, and as for Tomás.” + +“Ah, zat young man”--began Paulette. + +“What were you going to say?” asked Doña Martina, seeing that she did +not go on. + +“Only zat he is a very amiable young man, zat was all.” + +Doña Martina looked puzzled but did not pursue the subject. Instead she +proposed that they join Patty and Don Juan who were sitting under the +big tree at the side of the _plaza_. + +As the two passed out Matilda stopped to give them a hearty greeting in +her boisterous tones, Rosario looked up from her embroidery frame with +a shy smile, and Consuelo coming from the bakery across the way with +some little twisted loaves in a basket, fairly beamed when the ladies +gave her a word in Spanish. A large wagon drawn by mules in jingling +harness, had stopped before the door; men were unloading pigskins of +wine and were joking heartily with Matilda. Doña Martina and Paulette +waited for two creaking cow-carts to pass before they crossed the +road to the big tree. The carts were led by somber-looking men with +long goads laid across the shoulders. A touch of the goad between the +horns of the cows sufficed to guide them. The patient creatures with +a sheepskin pad to hold the yoke and a red fringe over their eyes to +protect them from insects, plodded along slowly. + +“Will they ever get there?” said Patty, looking after them. “I don’t +wonder it is considered inelegant to walk briskly in this country when +even the teams creep along like that.” + +“I have seen donkeys go at quite a trotting pace,” said Paulette. + +“So have I, and you, too, would go at a trotting pace if you had a +hatpin jabbed into you at every step. I saw a girl this morning taking +that very means of making her poor little donkey go faster.” + +“I wish I had seen her,” said Don Juan, fiercely. “I would have stopped +that business fast enough.” + +“Oh, yes he would,” Doña Martina hastened to say, seeing that Patty +looked incredulous. “He would have rated her soundly. None of them dare +to practise such cruelties when Don Juan is around, I can assure you. +It is time to get ready, Patty, if we are to take the noon train.” + +“Don Felipe should have sent his coach for us,” said Patty, rising to +her feet. + +“The train will get us there sooner than the coach could.” + +“Yes, but there is no haste in Spain, and fancy the glory of riding in +such a magnificent way. Do you prefer milk-white steeds or coal-black +ones, Polly?” + +“I prefaire to go in the train,” returned Paulette, scornfully. + +“Perhaps you will prefaire to come back in the coach,” said Patty, +mockingly. “Have you decided what to wear, Polly, dear?” + +“Ze gown which is ze most unbecoming,” Paulette declared. + +“Oh, how silly to appear in your most unbecoming gown before three men, +not to mention the _mayordomo_. I shall wear my very best and outshine +you all. You’d better wear that lovely soft green thing; you look +better in that than in anything else.” + +“Perhaps I do,” returned Paulette. + +It was but a short distance to the station nearest Don Felipe’s old +_palacio_ and the walk from the railway was a charming one through a +long avenue arched over by great trees. Don Felipe stood on the steps +to meet them, and with old-fashioned dignity and many compliments, +conducted them up a long flight of stone steps which led inside the +house, to the first floor. As the girls ascended, they caught sight of +several carriages on one side of the lower floor and of some half dozen +horses stamping in their stalls on the other. + +“How queer,” whispered Patty to her sister. “Do they always keep their +horses and carriages in the basements of the palaces?” + +“Sh!” warned Doña Martina. “He knows some English,” and Patty subsided. + +They were ushered into a great hall, crowded with wonderful old +furniture, carven chests, chairs and cabinets. On the walls hung dim +but rare old pictures, in the cases in a corridor beyond they caught +sight of collections of painted fans, of jewels, of fine porcelain. +There was scarce an article to be seen which did not possess some +history or which did not represent great antiquity. + +Patty flitted from one thing to another, commenting in broken Spanish +on this, going into ecstasies in English over that, pouring out in +voluble French her admiration of something else. Don Felipe spoke +French fluently, and at last this came to be the accepted language, +except when Don Tomás, looking bewildered, would ask for some +explanation or would make the remark, “Shocking! Awful badth form.” +Paulette was scarcely less vivacious than Patty, and her little French +mannerisms, her gestures and exclamations were more pronounced, so +that Don Felipe did not want for enthusiasm in his guests. He led them +from room to room, pausing at last before the floor of a spacious old +kitchen, whose black rafters and dim walls enclosed a scene which Doña +Martina declared she would like to paint. Four or five old women +hovered over the copper and brass vessels which were set over the fire +in the huge fireplace. On the floor lay a watchful dog. Perched high on +a dresser was the house cat. Baskets of vegetables and fruit lent color +to a picture which indeed was well worth painting. + +“It is perfectly delightful,” declared Doña Martina for the third or +fourth time. “The whole place is perfectly charming.” + +“It is yours, señora,” returned Don Felipe. + +“Do you think he would give me a copper kettle, that queer one over +there?” whispered Patty to her sister, who, understanding Spanish +hospitality perfectly, did not take Don Felipe at his word, but +expressed the proper thanks and said that some time she would enjoy +making a sketch. + +In the great dining-room a lunch was spread, and as Patty prophesied, +it was served from fine old plate, rare china and costly glass. At the +close of the meal, Don Felipe begged the ladies to keep their coffee +cups as souvenirs. “That you may not forget the old man who has been so +honored by your presence,” he said. + +The coach with four black horses bore them home. Don Felipe, his +_mayordomo_ by his side, stood on the steps to wave a last farewell. +Patty looked back at the old gray palace, at the carved balconies, +sculptured escutcheons and windows, around which clung blossoming +vines. “I feel as if I were in a fairy tale,” she murmured. “Really, +Paulette,” she added, “I am quite jealous, for I am sure you have the +finest cup.” + +“No, Doña Martina has,” Paulette insisted, and so it proved to be. Don +Felipe was nothing if not discreet in his attentions, and had tried to +show no preference. + +“Though,” said Patty plaintively, “I did say he was tiresome when I +meant to ask him if he were tired. I shall never get that frightful +verb _Estar_ in the right place. It all comes of my trying to show +off and compliment Don Felipe in his own language. I shall stick to +French next time. I knew I should get into trouble with your stupid +old language,” she continued, turning to Don Tomás. “I don’t see why +one verb _to be_ isn’t enough for you anyway. I saw you grinning at my +mistake.” The truth being that Don Tomás had kept a perfectly straight +face, although it was impossible for him to hide the amusement in his +eyes. “Don’t you think it was horrid of you?” Patty went on, as if the +entire fault was due to Don Tomás. + +“Shocking! Awful badth form,” returned Don Tomás with an attempt at +propitiation. + +Then, having wrung this from him, and raised a laugh at his expense, +Patty was satisfied. + +“It is all nonsense to pretend that Don Felipe didn’t understand that +you made a perfectly natural mistake,” Doña Martina told her sister. “I +am sure your Spanish isn’t so correct at any time that he couldn’t see +that you meant the other thing.” + +“Then I must redouble my efforts to learn,” said Patty calmly. “Tomás +will have to devote more time to me.” So did she retaliate and was +immediately in a better humor. + +“Who would ride in a motor car when one can set the whole population +agog by dashing into town in this style?” said Doña Martina as the +equipage rattled up the street and stopped before the _fonda_, the +observed of men, women, and children. Matilda, pleased beyond measure +at the honor, bustled out to meet her guests, the children of the +neighborhood gathered in a group at a respectful distance, while the +girls at the fountain paused in their task of scrubbing their buckets, +to gaze at this display of splendor. Don Felipe’s coach was well known, +though seldom did it stop at the door of any of the villagers. + +The next day came three huge bouquets for the ladies from Don Felipe, +and no one could tell which was the more beautiful, though Patty +declared that the presence of a _clavel_ in Paulette’s meant more than +appeared to the uninitiated. “It is you, Polly, I am sure,” she told +her friend. “The _clavel_ is always the token of a young man’s regard.” + +“Young man, did I hear you say?” + +“Oh, pshaw! Why such distinctions? A Spaniard’s, then. A Spanish man’s +regard. Must I give up that lovely old palace just as I am beginning +to appreciate, and was planning how to make it more cleanly?” + +Paulette shrugged her shoulders. “Sillee, Sillee, Sillee,” she chanted. + +“There is one thing I can do,” said Patty: “I can go and buy a post +card of the place. Tomás and I saw some last evening, and I shall not +tell you where they are.” + +“He will tell me.” + +“Oh, will he?” Patty turned and gave Paulette a swift scrutiny. + +“I believe you really would rather have the forty-dollar-a-year house +than the twelfth century palace,” she remarked. “What a pity that it +isn’t Tomás who owns the _palacio_, but then, poor old Don Felipe, what +compensation would there be for him? Really, Polly, I made no mistake +in calling him tiresome, and maybe I knew my Spanish better than I +pretended when I said _es cansado_ instead of _esta_. Now I am going to +get the post cards and I shall buy them all so there will be none left +for you.” + + + + + CHAPTER V + + MY OLD KENTUCKY HOME + + +The next day there was such an influx of custom, so many cattlemen to +demand meals, that the dining-room was insufficient to accommodate both +these and Don Juan’s party; moreover, Matilda declared that it would +not do to seat ladies at the table with so many rough men, therefore +dinner was served in the little _sala_. + +“Six places,” said Doña Martina as they sat down. “Matilda has not +counted noses this time; there is one too many.” She had hardly spoken +when the door opened and in walked the young Englishman who had left +them the week before. He bowed to the company and sat down at the end +of the table. On his right was Patty, on his left Doña Martina. + +“As I was saying,” Patty began, in English, “a twelfth century palace +may be very charming to look at and to live in during the summer, but +in winter the saints deliver me from a chilly house.” + +The young man looked up brightly. “You are English, American, of +course, and I fancied you were all Spaniards.” + +“We are a composite party.” Patty had found the entering wedge. “My +sister and I are Americans, my brother-in-law is Spanish, and so, of +course, is his brother, while my friend is French.” + +“Then you are a compatriot of mine.” + +“Are you an American?” It was Patty’s turn to be surprised. “We all +thought you so deadly English.” + +“I have lived in England for a number of years. My mother was an +Englishwoman. After my father’s death she went home to live and I +completed my education in England.” + +“That accounts for it.” + +“For my seeming like an Englishman? Yes, of course, but I still claim +America and am delighted to meet Americans. One finds very few in this +part of the world.” + +“We haven’t met any. You are the first we have seen, and you are really +a sort of mixture, aren’t you?” + +“I suppose I am, but in spite of that I still cling to the traditions +of my boyhood. The happiest years of my life were spent in the States.” + +“That sounds very English, or foreign, I should say. We are so lordly +in our claims that we call ourselves Americans and our country America, +while here an Americano is one who has been to Spanish America. We are +Inglesas because we speak English. I felt quite abashed when I asked a +Spanish-American if he were not a Spaniard, and he quite indignantly +replied, ‘No, I am an American.’ ‘But you speak Spanish,’ I persisted. +‘So do you speak English,’ he said, ‘but you are not an Englishwoman.’ +It was quite a new point of view to me. That was when I first came +abroad; now I am broader-minded.” + +“From what part of America are you?” asked Doña Martina, addressing her +neighbor. “One cannot tell by your speech, you know.” + +“I was born in Louisville, Kentucky. My father’s name was Robert Lisle +and mine is the same.” + +“I wonder if you could be related to Margaret Lisle, who married our +uncle, Henry Beckwith.” + +“She is my first cousin.” + +“Really? Isn’t that a coincidence? As we are continually saying, the +world is very small. I must tell my husband; he knows Uncle Henry very +well. Why, you are quite like a relative, and from our own state, too. +What are you doing down here in Spain? Traveling for pleasure?” + +“No, I am a mining engineer. I have come down with some Englishmen +interested in the mines of this province. I have been to Gijon and am +going to join my friends in Santander later on. I stopped off at this +place, where I had been once before, and, remembering this good little +_fonda_, I concluded it would be a proper center from which to make a +few trips to Covadonga and other places in the neighborhood.” + +“Covadonga is one of the places we have in mind to visit,” Doña Martina +told him. “Just now we are merely staying here till our house shall +be in order. It should have been ready before this, but you know the +Spanish _mañana_, and the painters will not have left it for a few days +yet. Meanwhile, we are comfortable and are seeing something of the life +in the village.” + +“Unfortunately for me, my Spanish is very shaky and I cannot get along +without a phrase book. It seemed rather venturesome to come to these +parts so poorly equipped, but the call was sudden, and I had no time to +prepare for it.” + +“I’ve no doubt you know as much as Mademoiselle Delambre and I do,” +Patty chimed in. “I make frightful mistakes, but I plunge in recklessly +and am gradually getting a vocabulary.” + +“I thought before I ventured too far off by myself I would devote +a little time to study, and perhaps you can recommend a teacher, +or at least someone who would be willing to give me some hours of +conversation each day.” + +“I am sure my husband can direct you to someone,” Doña Martina assured +him, and with that, the meal having been finished, they all left the +table. + +This new acquaintance brought a fresh element into the party. As Doña +Martina remarked, “I told you so. Let Patty but appear and a man drops +down from the skies; already there are three on the list and I hope she +is content.” + +Paulette looked up from under her light lashes and smiled. She was fond +of Patty, but in her heart of hearts she felt that her own attractions +were not to be despised. She was a small person, rather chic, and, +but for a somewhat large nose and a rough complexion, would have been +considered pretty. As it was she made the most of a slim figure and +golden locks, which were her chief charms. + +“Your golden hair, Polly, dear, is your fortune as much as your ducats +are,” Patty had one day said to her when they were discussing each +other in that perfectly frank way that young girls have. “With that +and your very stylish and trig form you are saved from being utterly +commonplace. Your eyes are rather small, your mouth nothing remarkable; +you have too much nose; your feet are passable in high heels; your +hands are positively ugly, but no one observes anything but those +golden locks and that you have an air.” + +“And you, my dear Patty, may not have what you call an air, but cast a +glance from those melting brown eyes upon even a _gamin_ in the street +and he bows before you. Your nose is impertinent, but it is not, as +mine, a feature whose bridge it is difficult to pass over. A _nez +retrousée_ is not objectionable, it is in fact desirable with such +eyes. A very long nose would give you a visage so melancholy as would +make one fancy you a veritable ascetic. Your mouth is a trifle large +for your nose, but better that than too small, else your eyes would +seem out of proportion. Your figure is not bad, a little thin, but that +is a fault which years may improve. I may grow too stout, you will not.” + +“How honest we are,” Patty returned. “That comes of hearing so much +about confessions and the like, here in the convent.” + +The confessions were not so frequent, once the convent was left behind, +for the two girls were now in the world of reality rather than of +dreams, and there was too much that was vitally interesting going on +about them to admit of vagaries and of such discussions as touched only +personal appearance. Each tried to look her best and thoroughly enjoyed +the pretty summer outfit which had been a matter of such moment at the +time of providing. + +Patty had sought the _galleria_ after dinner, and stood watching +the great stars slip down behind the mountains. From below came the +laughter and chatter of the _vacqueros_ who had gathered in the +wine-room. There was more movement than usual on the little _plaza_, on +account of the presence of so many cattle drivers. The air was sweet +with the scent of blossoms hidden behind garden walls or nodding from +the boxes set in windows. Paulette, Don Tomás and Doña Martina were +pacing the white way. Don Juan was busy over his papers. Patty, leaning +her arms on the ledge of the _galleria_ rested her chin upon them. It +was pleasant to be there. One seldom had a chance to be alone, and +once in a while one must have time to think. How long ago it seemed +since she and Tina had come from home, that home which was now broken +up. Five years Tina had been married. Before that was the yellow house +with white pillars, the garden--ah, yes, that was it--the scent of +flowers reminded her of home. She could see her father pacing, pacing, +his hands behind him, his head bent. That was after the days when her +frail little mother, with big eyes like Patty’s own, used to walk the +garden-paths, holding little Patty by the hand, the little six year old +Patty, who suddenly missed the dear companion and found out there was +no use in asking again for mother, for she was in far off heaven, too +distant to reach. Then grandma Beckwith took mother’s place at table, +and finally there was neither grandma Beckwith nor papa to haunt the +garden walks, only Patty and Tina and the new brother Juan. Three years +these had lived in the old house, then it was leased for a term of +years and the two sisters came abroad, Patty to finish her education +with the sisters in a convent, and Tina to follow her husband wherever +his business might call him. They had gone to London first and then to +Paris, where, within the last year, Don Juan had been desperately ill, +and upon his recovery had felt that nothing would complete his cure +but the healthful breezes of his native province in northern Spain. It +had been a long two years for Patty, although there were visits from +her sister once in a while, and one Christmas there had been a jolly +good time at an old chateau, where lived an American fellow schoolmate, +who had invited Patty with some other girls for a holiday visit. Now +schooldays were over and what next? The summer here, and then would +they go to Madrid as Don Juan sometimes thought of doing? Would they +stay here in Asturias? Would they return to America? This present +experience was delightfully novel and entertaining. It was pleasant, +too, to be with dear old Tina, who tried to be so strict and to +maintain such discipline with her young sister, just as she had always +tried in the days gone by, but-- A homesick feeling came over Patty, a +longing for the old home, the old ways, for the beloved country whose +faults, like her own, were but youthful faults after all. + +She gave a long sigh, and presently became aware from a slight movement +that someone had stepped out upon the balcony, then a voice said, “I +beg your pardon. I didn’t know anyone was out here. Will my cigar annoy +you?” + +“And I with a Spanish brother-in-law who smokes cigarettes eternally? +No, Mr. Lisle, I have passed beyond feeling annoyed at so slight a +thing as that. In the convent, of course, the sisters don’t smoke.” + +“The convent?” + +“Yes, I have been there for the past two years completing my education. +I have learned many things--especially from the French girls.” + +She did not see the young man’s frown. “And from the sisters?” + +“Oh, I learned things from them, too, the dear doves. I have become +fluent in excellent French. I learned to embroider beautifully; I can +sketch--a little; my music isn’t so terrible and--well, the lives of +the saints may be very edifying, but somehow they never did interest me +as much as the lives of the sinners.” + +“Whom do you class among the sinners?” + +“Myself for one.” + +“I can scarcely credit that. Are you such a sinner?” + +“We are all miserable sinners, so sister Cecile used to say, and I +think she meant I was one of the chief, yet, I am sure she loved me. +Some day I must go back there to see them all, for I was really very +happy after a fashion.” + +“And now?” + +“Oh, I am happier still now, though I was happiest in the dear old +home. I have just been thinking about it. The smell of the roses +brought it all back to me.” + +“Tell me about it. May I sit here?” He threw away his cigar and +established himself on the bench which ran along one side of the +_galleria_, while Patty sat opposite in a porch chair. + +“It is in Kentucky, you know,” the girl said, “not far from Lexington, +and I spent all my childhood there. I had a governess after my mother +died, then, after my father’s death, I went to boarding-school for a +while. I was still at school when my sister married. We lived in the +old home for a couple of years after that, then, when Dr. Estradas had +to come over here, they brought me with them and sent me to a convent +to finish my studies.” + +“Then you, too, are an orphan.” + +“Yes, I have no one but Tina.” + +“I have my grandfather and one uncle, no brothers or sisters. I, too, +remember my old Kentucky home and my happy boyhood.” + +“Don’t you get homesick, oh so homesick for it sometimes? I do. +‘For the sun shines bright on my old Kentucky home, my old Kentucky +home so far away,’” she sang softly. “That almost breaks my heart, +for my mother used to sing it to me, and it brings back everything, +everything, the old house with the white columns, the roses in bloom, +the sun shining on the trees. Oh, dear, why can’t things stay as we +want them?” + +[Illustration: “‘DON’T YOU GET HOMESICK?’”] + +“There is nothing we can count on but change.” + +“Alas, no. Do you ever expect to go back?” + +“I should like to, but I probably shall not while my grandfather lives.” + +“You have an English home, though, and that must be lovely. I have been +in England, and I know how charming some of the homes there are.” + +“Ours is not particularly so. It is in London, and though we have a +garden, after a fashion, it is not like the one I remember in Kentucky, +which must have been something like that of your childhood’s delight.” + +“Then you love your old Kentucky home the best?” Patty said eagerly. + +“Yes, I confess it. Perhaps when I see it again the glory will have +departed, though in my dreams it is the most charming spot in the +world.” + +“Did it have tall box walks and a perfect riot of roses climbing +everywhere? Was there an old apple-tree with a lovely low crotch where +you could sit? Was there a queer sun-dial and a fountain? Did the +beehives stand at one end, and were there currant bushes all along one +side? That is the way ours was.” + +“Ours was not unlike, except that my favorite was a cherry tree, and we +had gooseberries instead of currants. There were no bees, but I kept +pigeons and they used to strut up and down the graveled walks. It +broke my heart to give up those pigeons.” + +“And it nearly killed me to part from my pony.” + +“My little mare, Betsy, is still there. I can imagine it was a wrench +for you to give up your pony if you felt as I did about Bet.” + +“Who lives there now?” + +“An aunt, my father’s aunt, so it is not in the hands of strangers.” + +“Our house is. We have rented it and shall sell it when we have a good +offer.” + +“Then you do not expect to go back there to live.” + +“No. Juan’s interests seem to be centering over here, and where Tina is +I shall be. We may spend the winter in Madrid or Paris, so you see the +prospect of going back to old Kaintuck is a very distant one. We leave +this _fonda_ in a few days for Juan’s home. It is just beyond, between +this and the next village, and there we shall spend the summer. Don +Tomás has been living there alone since his mother’s death about three +years ago, and the house really was badly in need of repairs.” + +“I notice you say Tomás with the accent on the last syllable, and not +as we pronounce Thomas.” + +“Yes, that is the way the Spanish call it. I think I like it better. +They are coming up. I must go in, for no doubt my sister wonders what +has become of me.” + +She joined the others in the _sala_, leaving Mr. Lisle to his own +reflections. “Where have you been all this time, Patty?” asked her +sister. + +“Oh, I have been meditating part of the time. I should think you would +be glad to know I do think sometimes.” + +“Were you out there on the _galleria_ all the time?” + +“Yes.” + +Doña Martina sniffed the air. “Someone is smoking. Was Juan with you?” + +“No, dearest of duennas, he was not. I had the charming society of our +compatriot, and we have been talking of our Kentucky homes till I am +sure he is homesick; I know I am.” + +Her sister’s face softened and she said gently: “It wasn’t exactly +right for you to sit out there with him alone.” + +“Wasn’t it? I am sure we know just who he is.” + +“But he has not been properly presented and we know nothing about him +except that his cousin married our uncle.” + +“Then, please, Tina, dear, go right to your room and write to Uncle +Henry to find out. It takes so long to get letters back and forth. +I’m afraid he will be gone before we can begin to treat him like a +relation.” + +“Patty, Patty, you are perfectly irrepressible.” + +“Never mind. You will write, won’t you? Please, like an angel,” and +she turned a pair of appealing eyes upon her sister, eyes so wistfully +tender that Doña Martina, half laughing, said: + +“Well, yes, I will, if only to satisfy myself that he is all right. +I’ll write to-morrow, Patty. I am too tired to-night.” + +But as fate would have it, the epistle never was written, for the very +next day came a letter from Mr. Beckwith himself. Doña Martina handed +it over to her sister with the remark, “There are moments when I feel +that the Spanish are right in never doing to-day what can be put off +till to-morrow. This is an actual answer to what I might have written +and didn’t. There on the last page,” and Patty read: “By the way, Mag +tells me that Bob Lisle’s son is somewhere in Spain. Of course we +know it is a big place, but if you should happen to run across him do +the boy a good turn if you can. He is a fine lad. His father was a +great friend of mine and a better fellow never stepped. They say the +son is like him, though I’ve not seen the youngster since he was in +knickerbockers. He promised well then. Mag hears from him occasionally +and of him from his aunt, old Mrs. Breckenridge, who lives on the Lisle +place. She thinks there was never anyone like young Robert.” + +“So there,” Patty ejaculated, as she slowly refolded the letter. “Well, +Tina, you will be nice to him.” + +“Of course, but not on your account, Mistress Patience Blake.” + +“For his own sake, then?” + +“Yes, and for Aunt Mag’s. I will tell Juan he is to be treated like a +relative, and you know what that will mean to a Spaniard.” + + + + + CHAPTER VI + + THE DAY OF SAN JUAN + + +In a few days the little _fonda_ lost the guests who had set such a +mark of distinction upon it that Matilda felt her house had risen to +the highest repute. A rainy day had kept all within doors and had +lent an opportunity for better acquaintance with Robert Lisle, an +opportunity which was made use of, not alone by Patty, but by Doña +Martina and her husband. These two latter had urged Mr. Lisle to make +their house his home while he remained, but he had declined, saying +his movements were uncertain and he might at any moment be called to +Santander. He promised, however, to consider them as relatives upon +whom he could drop in without ceremony. + +The charming old Estrada mansion could not be entirely seen from the +high road; one must enter through a lofty gate before all the gray +buildings came in sight, though they and the garden were visible +from the side where one of the little narrow byways led off into +the mountain. A low fence surrounded this side of the garden, which +overlooked a green vale and the mounting reaches of the mountains +themselves. Entering the main gateway, one saw first the house itself, +with its stone patio, where countless pigeons cooed and pattered about. +Above were stone balconies and deep set windows, over which were the +sculptured arms of the house of Estrada. From a stone-paved hallway, +into which one must first enter, opened dining-room, kitchen, pantries +and servants’ quarters, while above stairs were the salon and the +bedchambers, all spacious rooms, looking out upon the garden in one +direction and the mountains in another. The furniture was old, but the +rooms were comfortable and there were so many as well might accommodate +a larger family. Beyond the house stood the little chapel, a covered +way leading to it from the second storey. Further away were the stables +and out-buildings. Fresh paint, where it was needed, gave an air of +cleanliness to the place, though the fine old rafters, oaken floors +and doors were left as they should be. In the garden, palms and apple +trees, figs and oranges, roses and geraniums as high as your head, grew +side by side, and this latter part of June there was a blaze of color. + +Word had gone forth that Don Juan invited the villagers to a _fiesta_ +in honor of his home-coming and of his name day, and as he had +throughout the countryside a reputation for performing wonderful cures, +for great charity, and for true kindness of heart, far and near, the +people prepared for the occasion. + +Robert Lisle promised to be on hand and the evening before the day of +San Juan appeared just as all were starting out for a walk. + +“Come with us,” said Doña Martina. “We are going to follow the custom +of St. John’s Eve. This is the _vespera_, as they call it.” + +“And what is that?” he asked, taking from her hand the basket she +carried. + +“We are going to deck the streams and springs. Those are rose leaves in +that basket and those flowering branches which Juan and Tomás carry are +for the same purpose. Come with us and help. It is such a pretty custom +and I want the girls to see how it is done.” + +They pursued their way along a little stream which ran through the +village. Here was the washing place where daily was seen a group of +women beating out garments on the rocks or rinsing them in the clear +mountain water. Further along was a bridge and further yet another, the +latter in a quiet spot where the gurgle of the water and the whisper of +the new leaves made a pleasant murmuring song. Here the party paused to +strew their rose leaves and daisy petals. + +Nothing would do but that Patty must explore the stream further along. +“It is much more fun to stand on the very edge and send the petals +on their mission,” she declared. “One somehow has a more intimate +relation with the stream doing it that way.” Tomás followed her and the +two were soon making merry over the fate of certain of their offerings. + +“Come on, Glad Lady,” called Doña Martina. “We are going.” + +“What did you call her?” inquired Mr. Lisle. + +“Oh, that was Tomás’s first comment upon my sister. He said she was a +glad lady and we thought it very apt.” + +“She certainly is a merry creature, so much more spontaneous and frank +than most one meets. I think candor and spontaneity are the charm of +our Southern girls.” + +“I like you to say ‘our’; it sounds as if you still felt you belonged +to Kentucky.” + +“Oh, but you know, I do feel so.” + +“Paulette has vivacity enough,” Doña Martina went on, “but it is of a +different quality.” + +“Quite so. Miss Paulette is entertaining, but--she is French.” + +“I see you have the insular prejudice.” + +Mr. Lisle laughed. “I am afraid I have. Where do we go next?” + +“To the _fuente_. The young people of the village will have bedecked it +by now.” + +“That is the fountain?” + +“Yes, or the spring, as you choose. It is the great gossiping place, +as I suppose you have noticed, for one is sure to meet one’s neighbors +there during some part of the day.” + +“It is singing the same little contented tune,” said Patty, as she and +Tomás came up. “It does not change it even for feast days. Aren’t you +all excited over to-morrow? I think there are so many pretty customs +for the day of St. John. I like to think of the young men climbing to +the windows of their lady loves to fasten flowers and boughs there. I +am wondering if Don Felipe will climb to our window, Polly, to set a +bough of blossoms thereby. I’d like to observe him in the act.” + +“Patty,” her sister spoke reprovingly. + +“But wouldn’t he look just like a monkey? Give him a red cap and coat +and he might go with a hand organ.” + +“Patty, you forget you are speaking of a friend of ours,” said her +sister with dignity. + +“Oh, but he is a friend of mine, too, and I may yet be making red coats +and caps for him myself, who knows? At all events, I’d like to see him +scrambling up to our balcony.” + +The flowering branch was indeed there by the window the next morning, +but by whom it was placed, or for whom it was intended, no one could +discover. However, there were two nosegays, one each side the casement, +so there was no disputing a claim to these. The two girls were +laughingly squabbling over the bough of blossoms when Doña Martina +called to them, “Come down, come down and see what our young friends +have been doing.” + +The two hurriedly made their toilets and went down to find an archway +of flowers over the gate, garlands festooned across the windows and +twined around the balconies. In the center of the _patio_ was set a +tree. “The presents have begun to arrive already,” Doña Martina told +them. “Old Antonia has been here with a pair of pigeons and here comes +Miguel with a basket.” + +“Isn’t it exciting?” said Patty, peeping out to watch Anita take the +basket. + +“A remembrance for Don Juan, señora,” said the maid. Doña Martina +lifted the cover to disclose a pair of white fowls. + +And so the procession kept up all morning. Here came a lad with a +basket of fruit, there an old woman with a bucket of eggs, next a young +girl with a pat of butter on a quaint plate of peasant-ware, plate +and all intended for the good doctor. The climax was reached when a +handsome dark-eyed girl appeared, leading a snow-white lamb, decked off +with a wreath of daisies, the flowers of San Juan. + +All must go out to welcome the little lamb. “The true symbol of San +Juan,” cried Doña Martina. “Isn’t it a darling? Come in, Perdita. Don +Juan will want to thank you himself. Anita will take you to his study. +She is very grateful,” Doña Martina explained to the girls, “for Juan +cured her grandmother of threatened blindness. These peasants are such +a superstitious set and someone had told the poor old grandmother to +dry a piece of holy palm which had been blessed by the priest, to crush +it to a powder and put it on her eyes. Imagine the result! I never +saw Juan more indignant. ‘But, foolish woman,’ he said, ‘you have +aggravated the trouble. You would be totally blind if you continued +such a stupid course. Had you no better sense?’ ‘It was my faith, only +my faith,’ wailed the poor old thing. They are just like that, and +half the time all that is needed is a little common sense. Eye trouble +is very common among them, and no wonder, for they use one another’s +handkerchiefs indiscriminately and are utterly careless. Juan has cured +scores of cases and they think he is a saint. I am sure Perdita has +been coddling the lamb especially for this occasion.” + +“Isn’t she a pretty girl,” said Patty, watching the giver of the lamb +depart. “She has such masses of wavy hair and such beautiful eyes; then +what a fine straight figure and fine carriage.” + +“You should see her dance the _jota_; no one about here does it so +well.” + +“Shall we see her this evening?” + +“Oh, yes, for we shall have good music. Now I must go and see if the +maids have prepared refreshments enough. There will be a big crowd, I +am sure. If any more presents come, tell me.” + +More presents did come straggling along all day, until the supply of +such things as the country people could bring added a large store to +the larder. “They are poor,” Doña Martina explained, “and Juan accepts +no fees, so, as this is their opportunity to give what they can, we are +obliged to accept the gifts.” + +“I think it is pathetic to see the little dabs some of them bring,” +said Patty, watching Anita empty from a bag a small hoard of nuts. + +“Are we to dress for the occasion?” asked Paulette. + +“Why, a little, maybe,” Doña Martina told her. “White muslin frocks +will do.” + +“I wish we could wear something really Spanish,” said Patty. + +“You can. I have a couple of shawls, _mantas de Manila_ they are called +here, and you can wear them as the Spanish girls do. You shall have the +yellow one, Paulette the red. You must stick red flowers in your hair, +I will show you how to arrange it, and then you will do. Some of the +girls will perhaps wear the Asturian costume, they know we like them +to, and some will wear the _mantas de Manila_; others still will simply +wear the best they have.” + +“Don’t I look Spanish?” cried Patty, well pleased with herself, when +she stood ready for the dance. “You look stunning, too, Polly. Isn’t +it a pretty dress?” + +“You at least look Spanish enough,” her sister told her. And, indeed, +with the yellow shawl draped gracefully around her, a red _clavel_ over +each ear, and a big fan in her hand she certainly did look as unlike an +American girl as possible. “I must go show myself to Juan,” declared +she, dancing out of the room. + +She ran impetuously into the study and struck an attitude, unfurling +her fan as she did so. “Behold Carmencita!” she cried. + +“Bella! Hermosa!” came the comment from the man sitting near the window. + +“Don Felipe!” faltered Patty, taken aback. “I thought it was Don Juan. +I saw someone and I didn’t stop to see that it was not my brother.” + +“Happy Don Juan, to dwell in the house with so much beauty,” returned +Don Felipe with a bow. + +“I am dressed for the _fiesta_,” Patty explained, “and I came in to +show my costume. I look quite Spanish, do I not?” + +“So much so that one might well believe you to be a native of my +country. Perhaps you will one day adopt this old Spain of ours. Would +it be difficult to persuade you?” + +Patty thought of the antique jewels and answered coyly, “No one has +tried to as yet, and--” as she saw a sudden flash come into the old +don’s eyes, “I have not been here long enough to say whether I should +like to make this my adopted country or not.” Then turning her head +over her shoulder, “Here comes my brother now. Am I not fine, Juan?” +she cried. “I look much more Spanish than Polly. I wish I knew some of +the Spanish dances.” + +“I should like to teach you,” spoke up Don Felipe. + +Patty cast down her eyes that she might hide the amusement in them at +the vision of herself capering in the _jota_ opposite the small figure +of Don Felipe. “Some time when we have not spectators, perhaps,” she +said sweetly, “but to-day I shall only look on.” + +“They are coming! They are coming!” Anita at the door announced +excitedly, and Patty ran out to join her sister and Paulette, who, +standing in the doorway, waited for the approaching villagers. + +“They are singing,” said Patty. + +“Yes, the song of San Juan,” her sister told her. “Let us go down to +the gate and see them in the dance. They sometimes come for miles +singing and dancing all the way.” + +It could hardly be called a dance, though with joined hands a long line +of young men and maidens chanted the song, progressing up the road +while they took the step called the dance of San Juan. At the gateway +they paused for a moment then entered singing still; Perdita at the +head led a band of maidens who offered crowns of the field daisies, +the flowers of San Juan. Then a young mountaineer approached with a bow. + +“Where is Juan?” asked Doña Martina nervously. “Call him someone, +quick.” But at that moment the doctor appeared and then and there was +raised a song in his honor. It had been composed by the schoolmaster +and had many stanzas which praised the kingly doctor, his gracious +wife, his beautiful guests, his princely brother, his estimable +friends, and at last sounded the virtues of even his cow and chickens. +After this the maids hurried out with trays of cake and wine, the blind +violinist and his wife, who pounded on a drum, struck up a typical air +and the dancing began. + +Most of the damsels considered it unladylike to display much action +when dancing the _jota_, but Perdita was too greatly possessed with the +spirit of the dance to be hedged about by conventionalities. With arms +aloft, fingers snapping, body swaying, she responded to the steps of +her partner. “It is a delight to see her,” said Patty to Don Tomás, who +was standing by her side. “If only I could dance like that.” + +“I will teach you,” he offered. + +“I shall certainly not fail to accept your good offices,” she returned, +“although we must practice when Don Felipe is not by. He has already +offered to teach me.” + +[Illustration: “PERDITA.”] + +“He? That old _hombrecillo_? That _maniqui_?” There was scorn in the +tones of Don Tomás. + +Patty laughed softly. It was not often that Don Tomás showed such +temper. “There comes Mr. Lisle,” she said. “I wonder if he dances.” + +“These Englishmen, they do not dance, they simply spin,” returned +Tomás. “It is in Spain only that dancing is an art.” + +“There’s vanity for you,” said Patty standing on tip-toe that Mr. Lisle +might see her across the group of onlookers. “You Spaniards are the +most guilelessly vain people I ever saw.” + +“A Spanish lady and not dancing!” said Robert Lisle as he came up. + +“The gladth ladthy is say she wish learn dance,” said Tomás, “and I am +say I will teach.” + +“Don’t you want to learn the _jota_?” Patty asked the new comer. “It is +just over and it is such a pretty dance. You should have seen Perdita.” + +“I am afraid a Spanish dance is beyond my powers, and that I have even +forgotten the American method.” + +“If you ever knew you will pick it up again. We have had such a day +of it, and--oh I believe they are going to illuminate the house and +grounds! What fun! They will keep it up all night, I do believe. Why +have you not been on hand to see our precious doings?” + +“I had some work to do which kept me, and I was out very early.” + +“Early enough to see them decorate this place? They came long before we +thought of getting up. We heard voices, but were too sleepy to stir. +After becoming accustomed to the noise of the cow-carts we have learned +to sleep through anything. Did you walk out this way and do you know +who set the blossomy bough by our window, and if it was intended for +Polly or me?” + +“Ought I to tell if I do know?” + +“Certainly, how else can we smile on the one who desires our favor?” + +“Very well, I will tell you some time,” he added. + +Patty gave him a swift look wondering exactly what that meant, then she +laughed lightly. “I fancied it might be Don Felipe, you know,” she said +in an undertone. + +“The little man in the elegant waistcoat and riding boots?” + +“The same. He is a magnificent don with oodles of pesetas and would you +think it? He came over on horseback to-day, though he often comes with +a coach and four. The relations between Paulette and me are strained +already on his account, as we both pine for his collection of antique +jewels. I wish I had not thought of the jewels just now, for I am +instantly seized with a feeling that I am neglecting my opportunities +by not going over to talk to him. I shall have to leave you.” And in +another moment she had joined the group among whom were her sister and +Don Felipe. + +There seemed no wearying the dancers and their number was soon +increased by a company from another village. The young men of this +_pueblo_ bore a tall slim tree from which all the branches had been +cropped. It showed only a small tuft of green leaves at the very top, +but was decked out with ribbons and flowers. The girls followed, +jangled their tambourines and sang the song of the day as they came +down the road and into the garden, where the tree was set up. + +Another supply of cake and wine was brought forth, the dancing became +more and more exciting, though the watchers began to be weary, yet the +lights in window and balcony were not extinguished till long after +midnight, and even then the song of the dancers still echoed from a +distance. + + + + + CHAPTER VII + + THE INXANOS + + +Robert Lisle walked home under the great stars that evening with a +new sense of restlessness at heart. He was rather a lonely young +man, feeling something of the alien in his grandfather’s house, yet +having cut loose from the ties which bound him to his native land. His +grandfather did not hesitate to remind him that he was not a Sterling +in name and that therefore he could not expect that inheritance which +might have fallen to him had he been born heir to a son of the house. +The old man was not unkind, but he was not a companionable person. +He had given his grandson the education which befitted his station, +had equipped him with the profession the boy preferred, and had +allowed him a place in his home whenever he should choose to accept +his hospitality. Having done this much he felt that he had fulfilled +his duty, and asked little in return. On one subject, however, he +had expressed a decided opinion: Robert should marry money, should +choose a wife of good family as well. Robert had tacitly accepted the +arrangement in not differing with his grandfather when the subject was +brought up, but to-night the idea suddenly became distasteful. Instead +of Miss Moffatt, whose neutral tints were of mental as well as of +physical quality, he saw a merry laughing witch of a maid, whose eyes +could be meltingly tender or full of mischief, who, while she appeared +only a little less than a trifler, nevertheless, had depths as yet +unstirred in her nature. + +He had had glimpses of this underlying the exterior; he knew all that +her gay laughter hid. He had looked below the surface. The glad lady! +How well the name suited her. How well she would love once she had +given her heart. But--. He stood still in the road and looked back over +the long white way, then with an impatient fling he turned and trudged +on. “What’s the use,” he muttered. “I can’t afford it. I must not think +of it. A penniless, struggling fellow, what have I to offer a girl? No, +I must not think of it. Moreover, there is the old don, and if not, the +other fellow whom she evidently favors.” + +Meanwhile Don Felipe had ridden away, and out in the _patio_ Tomás +was teaching Patty the _jota_, while Doña Martina called to them from +above, “Come in, come in, you scandalous pair,” she cried. “Don’t you +know it is past midnight? Haven’t you had dancing enough?” + +“We have only seen it, we haven’t taken part in it,” replied Patty, +halting in her practice of the step. “We’ll come in presently, Tina. +There may never come another day like this. Why grudge us a few +moments?” + +“This isn’t to-day, as you call it; it is to-morrow.” + +“Then consider what a triumph. It ought to be put on record. I have +beguiled one Spaniard into catching up with _mañana_.” + +“Paulette has gone in,” Doña Martina said after watching the two for a +few moments, “and I am so tired and so cold waiting here.” + +“We’ll stop at once,” decided Patty. “Poor old Tina, I didn’t realize +I was keeping you up, and it does warm one up so to dance the _jota_ +that I forgot you might be cold. I am a selfish pig. I’ll come right +in, dear. _Buenas noches_, Tomás. _Muchas gracias._ It has been lots of +fun, hasn’t it?” + +“Shocking! Awful badth form,” returned Tomás, laughing. + +Patty with a giggle of delight at the reply, ran in to find Paulette +already fast asleep, and the house dark and silent. She, herself, +however, was in no mood for slumbers. Her blood was tingling with +excitement of the dance. She opened her window and went out on the +balcony. The flowering branch set there that morning was withered and +drooping. Patty looked at it thoughtfully. “Poor lad,” she murmured, +“and he hasn’t two cents to rub together.” She leaned over the stone +railing. Tomás was smoking a last cigarette before going to bed; the +scent of it was borne upward with the odors from the garden beds. “It +wouldn’t be so dreadful to live in Spain, to be near dear old Tina +to--” Her meditations stopped short. Tomás was just below. She leaned +over and dropped one of the flowers from her hair. Tomás caught it and +looked up. “Shocking! Awful badth form,” said Patty mockingly, and +disappeared within. + +In spite of a waking resolution to fix his thoughts unwaveringly upon +the quiet Miss Moffatt, Robert Lisle felt himself unresistingly drawn +toward the Estradas house the next evening. “I was lonely; I had to +come,” he said as he shook hands with Doña Martina. + +“My dear man, you don’t have to make an excuse for coming. You know you +are always welcome,” returned Doña Martina. + +Robert flushed up. “But I come so often,” he stammered. + +“Why shouldn’t you? Aren’t we birds of a feather who should flock +together in a strange land? I’d feel very much hurt if you didn’t come +often. The girls will be down directly. That witch of a Patty has some +notion about going to the sea-caves to-night, a pretty rough walk, but +there’s no doing anything with her once she sets her heart on a thing. +She insists that she wants to visit the _inxanos_.” + +“And what are they?” + +“Here she comes; she will tell you.” + +“I’ve changed my dress and put on thick shoes, Tina,” the girl began. +“Oh, Mr. Lisle, you must go, too. It is just the sort of thing you +would like. We are going to see where the _inxanos_ live.” + +“I’ve just been asking about them. Who, or what are they?” + +“They are the little beings who build the caves, tiny creatures who +live underground. I am delighted that the Spaniards have tales of +something besides saints; I had enough of those at the convent. There +are not only _inxanos_ but _xanos_, and they pronounce their name as +though it were written Shaughnessy, though they use an x instead of an +sh. The _inxanos_ are a sort of genii; they give you things when you +ask them, but they, alas, like the genii generally require you to do +something in return. I have written three wishes on a piece of paper +and I am going to deposit the paper in one of the caves. Don’t you want +to make three wishes, too?” + +“I certainly do.” + +“Oh, I knew you wouldn’t despise my fancy. You mustn’t tell your +wishes, you know, or they may not come true. The _inxanos_ are very +particular. Tomás has been telling me the most delightful tales of all +these strange creatures. What I couldn’t understand, Tina translated +for me. I must warn you of the _xanos_; they are water nymphs who haunt +the forest streams and springs. They are a sort of Lorelei who charm +the young men that happen to pass that way. I should hate to think of +your disappearing head first into some stream to-night on account of +the tricksy little things, so be very careful that you don’t linger.” + +As Robert looked at her he thought it was not only the _xanos_ who +could lure a man from the path of duty, for try as he would to keep the +image of Beatrice Moffatt before him, it was so cast into the shade by +the sparkling face before him, that the image appeared but a shadowy +ghost, a pale and intangible memory. + +“I must warn you, too, of the _huestos_,” Patty went on. “They are the +evil spirits who work mischief to the utter destruction of human kind. +Now, come in and write your three wishes. I have at last persuaded +Polly to do hers, but I had an awful time to work upon her imagination +sufficiently. She is so unsentimental, that Polly. When I had persuaded +her to do it, she couldn’t make up her mind what to write. I knew in a +minute.” + +“Will you tell me if your wishes should chance to come true?” + +“Will you promise to do the same?” + +“Yes, I promise.” + +“Then--Oh, I don’t know--Yes, I will tell, but I must do so in my own +good time.” + +“And when will that be?” + +Patty laughed and shook her head. “You mustn’t pin me down. Remember +it was you who said some day, when I asked you to tell me who fastened +the blossomy branch by the window.” + +“If you will let me walk with you to the caves I will tell you this +very night.” + +“Anything to have my present curiosity satisfied,” said Patty, with one +of her most saucy smiles. “Come in. Polly must have made up her mind +by this time, though we are not going just yet, for Tomás has promised +to sing us some of those weird Asturian songs of his. He is perfectly +adorable when he sings them.” + +Robert followed her upstairs to where Tomás was softly playing a few +chords on his guitar. The three wishes were soon written out and the +paper tucked away in Robert’s waistcoat pocket. + +“Now for the music,” said Patty. “Those songs of yours are just suited +to out of doors, Tomás, so I think we’d better go out on the balcony. +Sing that funny little song about Perequito, and that other, _Dame la +mano, paloma_.” + +Tomás twanged out his accompaniments and began the curious little +melodies of the province, songs which ended in a long upward soaring +note, suggesting a call of the mountaineers. They were generally in a +minor key and uncertain in measure, but even Robert Lisle was obliged +to confess them charming. + +“No one but a true Spaniard can give them perfectly or even +acceptably,” declared Doña Martina. “All imitations are absolutely +colorless. We had some friends in Paris who tried them, but they did +not sound like the same thing. Very little of the Asturian music is +written, but Tomás has heard it all his life and knows it without +notes.” + +“Now for the caves,” said Patty. “It will be slower walking at night, +and we’d better start, don’t you think?” + +The night was soft and still, the mountain tops were faintly outlined +against a starry sky, but were lost to view where the winding woodpath +was entered. Tomás carried a lantern, yet they often stumbled over the +rough places. “It is such a foolish thing to do at night,” said Doña +Martina, pettishly. “I do hope, Patty, that you will not undertake any +more such adventures.” + +“What is the use of coming to Spain if you can’t have adventures,” +Patty made reply. “You needn’t come when I feel the call of the wild, +Tina.” + +“But I have to. What would people think if I allowed you to go around +unchaperoned?” + +“Juan could go with me; he wouldn’t mind in the least.” + +“As if he had time to follow your erratic movements. This coming +out to-night is a perfectly foolish thing. I don’t see the sense of +pretending you believe in _inxanos_ and such nonsense.” + +“Oh, Tina, you haven’t any imagination, while as for myself, I always +did love make-believe plays.” Leaving her sister to the guardianship of +Don Juan, Patty hurried ahead with Robert Lisle, in entire disregard of +Tomás’ beacon light. + +“It isn’t dark under the stars,” she remarked to her companion. + +“It could never be dark where you are,” he replied. + +“What a nice speech, quite as if you were a real Kentuckian. Isn’t it +now the time and place to tell of the blossoming branch? Who put it in +the window?” + +“I did.” + +“For--Paulette?” + +“For you.” + +“Oh!” Patty suddenly felt a little afraid--of what? She didn’t stop to +question, but in her inattention to the path, she unwarily stumbled +against a stone in the way and gave a sudden cry. + +Robert caught her hand to steady her, and he held it for a moment. A +mad fire seemed to race through his veins and he said unsteadily, “I am +not taking good care of you. I am afraid you have hurt yourself, when I +would rather have been battered to bits than that you should feel the +slightest pain.” + +“Oh, it was nothing,” Patty answered faintly. “I think--I think maybe +we’d better wait for the light.” + +He released her hand and they stood silent till the others came up. “Oh +dear,” Patty was saying to herself. “Oh dear!” + +The caves were not much further ahead, for the splash of waves beating +upon the sands was now heard distinctly. Doña Martina refused to cross +the stretch of pebbly beach which lay between the wooded path and the +sea. “Juan and I will wait here while you silly children go ahead,” she +said. + +“I’ve just thought,” said Patty to Robert, “that I’ve written my wishes +in English. Do you suppose the _inxanos_ understand anything but +Spanish?” + +“Genii ought to understand everything,” returned he. “Mine are in +English, too.” + +“Well there is some comfort in that, for if they can’t read mine, +neither can they yours, and if you are denied your wishes so shall I +be. There is the moon, Tomás; we shall not need the lantern. Leave it +with Juan and Tina; it is much more romantic without it.” + +They reached the caves without difficulty. Strange structures they +were; great archways rising each side the opening to the beach and +obstructing a clear view of the sea till one had passed under or beyond +them. “What wonderful little people the _inxanos_ must be to build such +places,” said Patty’s companion as they solemnly deposited their wishes +in a crevice of the caverns. + +“We shall think them more wonderful if they grant our wishes,” she +said. Then she touched Tomás softly on the arm. “Come,” she said to him +in Spanish. + +He followed willingly and they disappeared around the corner of the +rocks. “Let us explore a little further,” said Patty. “I don’t want to +go just yet. You know the place well, don’t you, Tomás?” + +“Perfectly.” + +“Then let us watch the moon on the water for a few minutes. If they get +tired they can go on. They know it is light enough for us to find the +way without the lantern. Do you mind, Tomás?” + +“When you have given me the flower from your hair?” + +“Don’t get sentimental. That was only a little joke. You see you are a +sort of brother and I can ask you to do things because we seem both to +be of one family.” + +“Yes, that is it of course. You have no other reason?” + +“Certainly I have not. Now, Tomás, don’t try to look heart-broken. You +know it is simply pretense.” + +“How do I know? I am not at all sure.” + +“Oh, yes you are, and if you are not you must be, for I am perfectly +sure we don’t want to spoil our fun by any silliness. Just peep around +the rocks and see if they have started yet. If they have we will +follow. I hope the _inxanos_ will be good to us. You see I am doing +this--I mean I wanted to wait here as a sort of propitiation to the +_inxanos_, so they would know I am really in earnest. Do you think +there could be any _inxanos_ there in that cave? I see some little +shadowy thing.” + +Tomás fell in with her mood. “Shall we go see?” + +“If you like. They do appear to people, you know.” This conversation +carried on partly in Spanish and partly in English was not perfectly +understood on either side, but each managed to get the gist of what the +other was saying. + +They clambered down the crags to enter the caves, a lofty aperture in +the rocks, open on two sides. The shadowy form resolved itself into +gray stone as they approached. They passed through to the pebbly-strewn +stretch of sand on the further edge of which they had left Doña +Martina. The four were standing there parleying. + +As the two figures came out from the cave Doña Martina called to them, +“We are going.” + +“So are we,” returned Patty. “Don’t wait. We will follow.” And the +party took up its tramp back through the woods by the winding stream. + +Robert Lisle did not tarry when the house was reached, but cutting his +adieux short at the gate, strode off down the road. + +Patty looked after him pensively. “It was so romantic,” she remarked. +“I wish Don Felipe had been there.” + +“Patty,” her sister began. + +“What, dear,” said Patty sweetly. + +“I am displeased with you.” + +“Dear me, what have I done?” + +Her sister took her arm and walked with her to the house. The others +had gone on ahead. “Don’t you know it wasn’t the thing for you and +Tomás to go flocking off by yourselves in that way?” + +“I asked him.” + +“So much the worse; it was very marked.” + +“And who was there to criticize?” + +“Mr. Lisle and Paulette.” + +“Oh, they don’t count. When you go seeking _inxanos_ you can’t be +conventional, Tina. There is no sense in getting vexed over a little +thing like that. Wait till I do something really outrageous.” + +“Which I suppose you are bound to do if you keep on.” + +“Rather than disappoint you, I will try, my dear. At present I don’t +feel the least ‘compuncted,’ as Tomás said to-day. He is getting on, +that Tomás.” + +“You mean--?” + +“With his English. We begin to understand each other at last.” + +“Oh, Patty, why will you?” + +“What will I?” + +“Flirt with Tomás.” + +“My dear girl, just because I say we are beginning to converse +intelligently you put that construction upon the matter. Such a +suspicious old gooseberry as you are.” + +“I wish I could believe there were no grounds for my suspicion.” + +“There aren’t any. If I am to flirt at all it will be with Don Felipe. +He is well seasoned and can stand it. Good night, beloved. Don’t lie +awake thinking over my peccadilloes. They are really the most harmless +in the world. Good night,” and Patty flitted up the stairway in the +wake of Paulette. + +“Did you have a pleasant walk home?” Patty asked her friend. + +“No,” was the reply. “Your Englishman was as mopey as an owl. He knows +no French and is none too talkative in English. Why did you permit him +to walk with me when he does not know my language?” + +“I thought a change would be good for him,” returned Patty. + +“But not for me.” + +“For you, too, perhaps. Why don’t you teach him French? He ought to +know it.” + +“No, thank you, I have all I can do with Spanish.” + +“So I think have I,” responded Patty. “One would have to be very fluent +to direct a houseful of servants properly, wouldn’t one?” + +Paulette vouchsafed no answer to this, and Patty saw that she was none +too well satisfied with her evening. + + + + + CHAPTER VIII + + A ROMERIA + + +This being the season of the year for _fiestas_ and _romerias_ one of +these was always in prospect even though Don Juan suggested only such +as might be most interesting. That at the little old town of Celorio +promised certain unusual features and all prepared to go. + +“What is the difference between a _romeria_ and a _fiesta_?” asked +Patty. + +“A _romeria_ is a pilgrimage, properly speaking; a _fiesta_ is simply a +feast day in honor of some special saint or some particular Madonna,” +Don Juan told her. “Many pilgrims go to the _romeria_ of Covadonga on +account of the miraculous image there which the faithful regard with +much veneration. A _fiesta_ in our little village may be a very simple +affair; a _romeria_ is more important, for it brings visitors from +miles around. It has been a great many years since I went to Celorio, +but Tomás says the _romeria_ there has lost none of its interesting +features and that there will be a great many promisers this year.” + +“Promisers? And what are they?” + +“They are those who, during some illness of theirs or of someone near +and dear, promise a white robe to the Virgin if they recover. I will +not spoil the effect by telling you more. That is enough to make you +understand what you will see. The very devout do many such things.” + +“What other things are done?” + +“Sometimes a very strict and wealthy lady will mortify the flesh by +promising to wear only a certain color for so many weeks or months. The +more unbecoming the color the greater the sacrifice. Purple is often +chosen as being very trying to a sallow skin,” Doña Martina remarked. + +“I’m afraid,” said Patty with a smile, “that I’d never get into heaven +if it depended upon such a sacrifice to my vanity. I’d look a fright in +purple, wouldn’t I, Tomás?” + +This young man brought suddenly into the conversation from a brown +study into which he was plunged, hurriedly replied, “Shocking, awful +badth form,” that being the readiest English which came to him at the +moment. Then, by the laugh which went up, perceiving that he had made +the wrong reply, he asked, “What didth you say, Mees Pattee? I didth +not hear correctly.” + +“I asked if you thought I would look well in purple.” + +“You wouldth look well in anything,” responded Tomás with a bow, and +so redeemed his reputation for gallantry. + +“There will probably be no place to get lunch at Celorio,” said Doña +Martina, “so we must take something with us, and our _romeria_ will be +in the nature of a picnic, for after the service at the church we can +go to the _playa_ and have our lunch. Celorio is directly on the sea.” + +“What fun that will be,” said Patty. “I shall like it better than going +to a _fonda_, though that is a good experience, too. Is Celorio a +pretty place?” + +“It is very old and interesting. The church is of the tenth century and +there is an old monastery attached, with a pretty garden.” + +“And is it still used by the monks?” + +“No, like many another it has passed out of the hands of the old +Benedictines who used to possess it, and now it belongs to some friends +of Juan’s who have bought it for a summer home. If any of them happen +to be there we can probably go through it. You will like to see the +garden, I am sure.” + +“I’d like to see it all. Tell me some more about the _romeria_.” + +“A very peculiar and ancient dance is given, a strictly religious one, +which is called the _danza prima_ because of its great antiquity, +for no one seems to know when and how it originated. It is put into +practice each year when the figure of the Virgin is borne from the +church. Then the girls from the village sing their weird little song +and dance the _danza prima_, the step of which is taken backward.” + +“It must be the queerest thing.” + +“It is very quaint and very individual.” + +“Have you asked Mr. Lisle to go with us?” said Patty suddenly. + +“No, but I shall do so, or you can when you see him.” + +“When I see him? Do you realize that he has not been here for, let me +see--three days?” + +“And why?” + +“Oh, I don’t know. Sulky, probably.” + +“Again, why?” + +“Oh, well, just because. Don’t ask me to keep track of all the moods +into which our young men fall. After all, elderly men are much more +satisfactory. One can usually trace their seeming peevishness to a fit +of indigestion or a desire for a smoke. Perceive Tomás, for example; he +has been as one in a trance all the morning. Just now when he left the +room he fairly staggered with dreaminess.” + +“It is all your fault, after your capers last night.” + +“My capers! Goodness, Tina, one would think me an _huesta_ or some +other evil thing. Don’t be silly. Did you never play with two boys +at the same time, I’d like to know? It seems to me I have a dim +recollection of your having gone to a dance at home on one occasion, +when you started forth with one individual of a fair complexion and +came home with a dark-haired escort, unless someone spilt hair-dye on +his head on the way back.” + +“Patty, how did you--” + +“How did I find out? I was peeping from the window when you came in and +I saw--” + +“Never mind,” said her sister hastily. “You see I’d had a little tiff +with Juan and we made up that night. It was quite a different thing, +for it was a very serious matter with us.” + +Patty hugged her knees and rocked back and forth enjoying her sister’s +discomfiture. “And how do you know it isn’t serious with me?” she asked. + +“What is?” + +“Oh, all this,” Patty replied indefinitely. “At least it is this way; I +don’t want to favor one young man above another, because I am breaking +my heart over Don Felipe. When he comes galumphin along he doesn’t know +that each beat of his horse’s hoofs goes Pitty Patty.” + +“Silly.” + +“I simply adore the way his hair doesn’t grow about his temples, and +that gap in his teeth is so unique. You wonder what has been there, +then you find yourself gazing at the one wobbly front tooth which +is left and calculate how long it will last without dropping out. +He affords so many interesting conjectures that it doesn’t make any +difference what he says, for his personality is so attractive it makes +up for all else. His teeth are such curios I suppose that is why he +hangs on to them; he wouldn’t have anything so modern as a new set for +anything. If he could only buy an old set, one that had belonged to +George Washington or some celebrity, no doubt he would pay any price.” + +“For a girl of twenty you are the most nonsensical child I ever saw. +Will you never grow up?” + +“I hope not. I’m sure I don’t want to. It is enough to see what mature +years have done for my sister for me to desire to keep out of my +majority as long as possible. Don’t remind me of the approaching time +when I shall be free, white and twenty-one.” + +“What about Robert Lisle? Shall I send him a note?” + +“No, don’t let’s bother about him. I wish you wouldn’t bring him into +the conversation just now when I am ecstasying over Don Felipe. Isn’t +ecstasying rather a good word? You spoil my train of thought.” + +“You really don’t want me to hunt up Robert Lisle? Tomás can stop at +the _fonda_.” + +“No, you needn’t, so far as I am concerned. If you want him you will +have to affix him to your train. He doesn’t deserve to be asked after +staying away three whole days. Now he can whistle for invitations from +me.” + +Doña Martina looked up with a smile. Patty seemed a little more +emphatic than the occasion demanded. “Very well,” she returned. “We +will trust to luck. If he comes we will ask him; if he doesn’t, we will +not. We will leave it that way.” + +Robert Lisle did not appear that day and the next was the one set +for the expedition to Celorio where Our Lady of Carmen would be +triumphantly borne forth in procession. The village, which one passed +through from the railway station, was not large, but was charmingly +situated. The space around the church was full of people coming and +going. On one side stretched blue reaches of sea; on the other arose +the Cantabrian mountains. Behind the church stood the monastery around +which a fair garden blossomed within high stone walls. + +Coming from the bright sunlight without, the church looked singularly +dark and gloomy as one entered under the gallery for men, so that +the two or three steps leading to the body of the church were only +dimly discerned, but as one became accustomed to the dimness the very +obscurity became a charm, and one could see the age-stained timbers, +the quaintly carved capitols of the columns which supported the +gallery, the grotesque vases in the chancel, which were now filled +with flowers and were in the form of devils. They might well be of +pagan origin, but none could tell how old they might be. The gleaming +candle points at the altar gave the only light, and this was the more +effective because of the dimness beyond, in which knelt upon the stone +floor shadowy figures in black. + +Don Juan’s party found a place on one of the few benches near the +entrance, and presently through the low-arched doorway came a +white-robed woman on her knees. She was followed by another, then after +an interval, by two together. Following these came a mother and her +two sons on their bare knees. Others appeared from time to time all +making their way slowly down the stone steps and up the body of the +church to the altar where the white robes were deposited at the feet of +the Virgin. Then mass was said and the Lady of Carmen, preceded by the +dancing village maids, was carried forth to the music of the ancient +_danza prima_. Following her came the _ramas_ borne by the worthiest +young men of this and neighboring villages, then all who wished, +carried tall candles and joined in the procession which passed around +the church, to the noise of rocket bombs frequently sent off from the +tower. + +“What are they going to do now?” asked Patty as she watched the +villagers circle around the huge pyramids of loaves, decorated with +flowers. + +“The girls will sing the song of the _rama_. It is rather a monotonous +chant, and one gets deadly tired of it when it is kept up as long as +it is liable to be, but it will probably interest you for a while,” Don +Juan told her. + +“And what becomes of the _ramas_?” + +“The loaves are sold or given to the poor. Sometimes one person buys +all and sells the bread for very little.” + +“It is a sort of harvest home, isn’t it?” + +“Yes, though here they make a religious ceremony of everything. They +end up with a dance, however, and what begins a _romeria_ ends a +_fiesta_.” + +“Where are you all?” asked Doña Martina, coming up. “We are going to +have our lunch now. Tomás has gone to pick out a good place where we +can be undisturbed. We’d better be walking down toward the shore.” + +A quiet place was not hard to discover, and before long the little +party was cosily ensconced under a big tree near the cliffs. + +“This is the best chicken I ever ate,” remarked Patty. “I can’t see how +Manuela does turn out such good things when I see her building that +little fire of twigs on top of that stone hearth.” + +“When a thing has been done in the same way for centuries, the manner +of doing ought to become perfection,” replied Doña Martina. + +“I suppose Manuela has the experience of generations to work with, for +the methods have been handed down from mother to daughter who knows +how long. Have some wine, Paulette? What would you like, Patty?” + +“A jug of wine, a loaf of bread and Thou,” she quoted. + +“Only for Thou, read Tomás,” her sister whispered. “Well, you have it +all, for surely this wilderness were Paradise enow’.” + +“You have left out the singing in the wilderness.” + +“We had that awhile ago.” + +The last remnants of the feast were bundled up and bestowed upon a lame +beggar whom they met on their way back to the church, and then, as good +luck would have it, Don Juan found that his friends, the owners of the +old monastery, were at home, and to the little party the great gates +were opened, gates behind which the girls had been trying to peep, for +the clambering flowers which had reached the top of the wall, gave +promise of more beauty within. + +Through one corridor after another they were led by their obliging +hosts. Many of the old cells remained just as they were when the old +Benedictines pattered their prayers as they looked forth from the deep +set windows; others had been altered to suit the needs of the family. +Above the doors of the great _sala_ were coats of arms, for here more +than one great personage had been housed. A wide porch overlooked the +pretty garden, and the fields beyond, belonging to the estate stretched +away and away toward the mountains. A crumbling tower was pointed out +as the oldest part of the building; a thousand years old, said their +guide. + +“Think of the old _frales_ who lived here,” said Doña Martina in an +awed tone. “Think of all that has happened since this was built. +Doesn’t it give one a strange feeling to contemplate these gray walls +and think how long they have lasted?” + +“Can’t you fancy those Benedictine fathers walking in the garden below +there, or sitting in their cells working over some beautiful old +missal?” returned Patty. + +“I suppose there was also a nunnery somewhere near,” remarked Paulette. + +“No doubt, for the church would be the center of a settlement.” + +“It gives one much more of a sense of the reality of all that old +history to come to a place like this,” said Patty. “Where does this +lead?” for their guide opened a small door and beckoned them to follow +him. Patty was the first to step through and she found herself standing +in a small enclosed balcony. She peeped through the lattice work and +caught her sister’s arm. “Oh, do see where we are,” she exclaimed. They +looked down and beheld the nearly deserted church; only a few kneeling +figures still occupied it. The gorgeously bedizened figure of the +Virgin shone out in the light of the candles still burning around the +altars. + +“The little gallery,” their host told them, “was used as a choir for +the nuns who were placed behind the grating that they might not be seen +by those below.” + +“They could be heard though,” commented Patty, “and I daresay their +singing was very sweet. That adds another interest to this rare old +spot.” + +The dancing was in full swing when they passed through the old gateway, +leaving the scarlet geraniums and white lilies glorifying the sunlit +places. The jovial notes of the _jota_ called them to watch the pretty +dance, and when at last they took their leave rocket bombs were still +going up, and the sound of violin and drum announced that another dance +had begun. + +“It has been wonderful, this _romeria_,” said Patty, dreamily. “I feel +as if I had made a real pilgrimage. Is it as wonderful at any of the +fêtes in France, Paulette?” + +Paulette was not willing to admit that they were any less interesting +and discoursed volubly upon a Breton feast day which she remembered and +which she declared to be much more picturesque because of the costumes +worn. + +The singing in the wilderness was furnished that evening when Tomás +took his guitar into the garden and trolled forth some of the unwritten +songs which they had not yet heard. Then he told them queer tales of +the peasants and of the saints, of how in the time of a great drought +a figure of the Virgin is carried from her own church to some other +where she must stay till it rains. Sometimes the patron saint of some +little chapel is given a change of residence in the same manner. “At +one time long ago,” said Tomás, “there was a very great drought and the +poor people became desperate. At last one peasant woman took by stealth +the figure of a saint from a little chapel in her neighborhood. She hid +it under a cloth and at a certain waterfall she gave it a good dousing +which she thought this patron saint deserved. At once came a perfect +torrent of rain, nearly carrying off woman and saint on their way back +to the chapel. Ever since then the people call upon San Acisclo, as he +is named, whenever rain is needed.” + +“That is a lovely tale,” the girls agreed. “Tell us some more, Tomás. +Tell us about the _inxanos_.” + +“Oh, the _inxanos_ do many things. Not only do they build the caves in +which they live, but they carry on business. There was a beautiful lady +_inxana_ who did this, and there is a tale about her but I do not think +it as interesting as some others. The tales are very numerous and some +day perhaps I shall collect them.” He took up his guitar and began to +sing a little love song. Overhead the stars were climbing down behind +the mountains, the air was fresh and sweet with the odors from gardens +and fields. It was very still, very beautiful. Patty’s thoughts drifted +off to the old monastery, to the _frales_ and _religiosas_. On just +such nights they had watched the stars set behind these same immovable +hills. She felt very small, very young, and she snuggled up close to +her sister, who put a protecting arm around her just as she had done to +the little baby sister in that old home garden of Kentucky. + + + + + CHAPTER IX + + ONLY A DONKEY + + +For two or three days longer nothing was seen of Robert Lisle, but Don +Felipe was much in evidence and Patty was enjoying herself hugely. +First she was teasing her sister, secondly she was bewildering the old +don, thirdly she was annoying Paulette. Such a combination of effects +was greatly to Patty’s mind. She did not mean the least harm. She +was simply bubbling over with the joy of living. Little Don Felipe’s +pomposity gave her intense amusement; he was so candidly conceited, +had such a way of swelling out his chest and strutting around “for +all the world like a little bantam rooster,” Patty declared. He was +not hard-hearted except when the matter clashed with his opinion, +for opinionated he was to a degree, and no one could differ with +him without bringing forth a burst of indignant protest. This Patty +delighted to do and having made the little man “dancing mad,” as she +expressed it, would go off into shrieks of laughter, then he would +stalk away in would-be dignity only to return at the first word of +flattery. That Patty knew well how to put her limited vocabulary to +the best use, when it came to flattery, Tomás perceived, at first +sulkily and then with pretended indifference, turning to Paulette for +consolation. + +There came a morning, however, when Patty felt that a respite from +Don Felipe would be rather an agreeable change, so she started up the +road toward a certain spot which Tomás had pointed out to her in one +of their walks. It was removed from the _carretera_, so that only by +certain twistings and turnings along narrow paths could one reach +the silent shrine of _Nuestra Señora de Piedad_, whose tiny chapel +closely embowered in the protecting branches of tall trees, stood at +an angle of the wooded ways. Unfortunately for Patty’s desire for +solitude, fate sent two knights her way and turned the current of her +meditations. Just as she was about to leave the _carretera_ she espied +a wretched-looking beggar beating his donkey, for in Spain a beggar may +ride and has not the least shame of his profession. It is more noble +to beg than to work and no disgrace to be poor. The tender-hearted +Patty, who was nothing if not fearless, stopped short at sight of the +poor beast’s affliction. “What are you beating that donkey for?” she +demanded fiercely. + +The man muttered something under his breath and then whined out a +petition for alms in the name of Mary. + +[Illustration: “‘WHAT ARE YOU BEATING THAT DONKEY FOR?’”] + +“Not a _perrono_ will I give to a man who treats his beast so,” said +Patty. “I should think you would be ashamed to beg, anyhow, a great +strong man like you. What has your donkey done that you should abuse +him? He looks thin enough, goodness knows.” + +“He is an obstinate beast,” replied the man; “he threw me off in the +dust.” + +“I don’t blame him for being an obstinate beast with such a master,” +returned Patty with spirit, “and I am glad he threw you off, poor +creature.” + +The man cast a baleful glance at her and fell to belaboring the donkey +with redoubled energy. “Oh dear, oh dear!” Patty wrung her hands and +looked right and left for someone to appear to whom she could appeal. +Then out of a cloud of dust suddenly issued a horseman, a little spruce +old man on a black horse. “Don Felipe!” cried Patty, eagerly. + +“Señorita!” exclaimed Don Felipe drawing up short. “What is the +matter?” he asked as he alighted. + +“This man is beating his donkey unmercifully, and will not stop.” + +Don Felipe smiled. “Only a donkey, señorita. You are too +tender-hearted. The man is but a beggar and is not fit for you to +speak to. Here,” and he threw the man a copper which was received +obsequiously and with whining thanks. + +“Won’t you tell him not to abuse his donkey?” begged Patty. “It has to +work hard and looks so thin.” + +“What would be the use, my dear young lady? As soon as our backs were +turned he would do it again; it is the way of these people; they are +ignorant and one must make some difference between man and beast. No +doubt the man is likewise hungry. Come, my dear young lady, let us go +on toward the village and leave this wretched beggar.” + +“I am not going to the village,” said Patty determinedly. + +“And may I not accompany you on your walk? Surely you will not go far +alone.” + +“I shall go a little further,” said Patty evasively. + +“On an errand of mercy? Ah, yes, you are always like that, so +tender-hearted. Then I shall go with you. I cannot permit a lady to be +alone upon the _carretera_.” + +But Patty did not budge, she simply looked at the donkey which the +beggar was preparing to mount. “If I could only buy him,” she murmured. +“Are donkeys expensive?” she asked. + +“Very cheap,” Don Felipe told her. “But this is laughable. What would +you do with a scrubby beast like that? Fancy your sister and brother +when you should appear with your purchase.” + +Patty made no reply. She had not a penny with her and was helpless in +the face of such superior scorn. Don Felipe waited with ill-concealed +impatience. It was not the correct thing for a young lady to do +such wayward things. It was strictly unconventional to start off +unaccompanied, in the first place, and he would see that she went home +properly escorted, even though it meant an exercise of his legs to +which he was not accustomed. + +But this necessity was obviated by the approach of another actor in the +drama, for who but Robert Lisle should suddenly alight from Victor’s +cart which was on its way to Ribadesella. + +“Oh, Mr. Lisle!” Patty ran toward him. “I am so glad it is you. I know +you will try to make this man promise not to beat his poor little +donkey. Such cruel blows and it is so thin, the poor patient little +creature. If I could only buy him I would do it in a minute, but I have +no money with me.” + +“It is the glad lady!” exclaimed the young man. “My dear Miss Patty, I +have money with me. Would you like me to buy the _burro_?” + +“Oh!” The lovely eyes, half filled with tears, cast him a grateful +look. “Please, please. I know Tina and Juan will let me have him, and +I have the money at home. I would be willing to go without anything if +only I may have him.” + +“But there is no need to do that, you see. I should like nothing better +than to be the means of allowing him to exchange a hard master for a +tender mistress,” said the young man. He stepped up to the beggar +who cunningly perceived that it was to his profit to remain near by. +“_Cuanto?_” said Robert, laying his hand on the donkey. + +“One hundred pesetas,” answered the man, thinking to drive a fine trade. + +“Bah!” exclaimed Robert, expressively, as he took out his purse. “I +will give you forty and not a penny more.” + +The man’s greedy eyes devoured the money, the sight of which was too +much for his cupidity, and he held out the bridle of the donkey with +one hand, extending the other for the cash. + +Robert counted it out gravely, took the donkey by the bridle and led it +over to where Patty stood. + +By this time Don Felipe had remounted his steed and with a supercilious +smile as watching the transaction. “Seeing that I am of no use I will +go on and leave you to follow with your valuable purchase,” he said in +an amused tone, and the next minute he was clattering along the road. + +Patty gently stroked the donkey’s soft nozzle. “He will soon learn that +there is such a thing as kindness in the world,” she said. + +“I wouldn’t put too much faith in his good qualities; they can be nasty +little beasts,” Robert told her. + +“Because they are often so badly treated. I know this one will be good. +You must let me pay for him, you know.” + +“No, if you refuse to take him as a gift I shall keep him myself, and +the beggar’s treatment of him won’t be a patch upon my abuse.” + +“Tell that to the marines. I will take him if Tina will let me, but +very likely she will not.” + +“Why should you not accept from me a scrubby little donkey, worth less +than eight dollars, as well as a silver cup, worth much more, from Don +Felipe?” + +“Because that is a horse of another color, or rather, I should say +donkey. However, we shall see.” + +“Do you want to take the burro home now?” + +“No, I think I should first like to take him to the chapel of Our Lady +of Pity where I was going. I shall ask her to bless him.” + +“Is there a need? He has already been blessed by a lady of pity, though +I could wish she would not confine her compassionate acts to donkeys.” + +“There are donkeys and--” + +“Donkeys, you would say. I admit that, but why be kind to one variety +and cruel to another?” + +“When was I cruel?” + +“Didn’t you promise to go to the cave of the _inxanos_ with me, and +then only perform half of what you said?” + +“I kept my promise. I said I would go with you, but I didn’t say I +would come back in your company.” + +“Oh, I see. It was the donkey in me which prevented my taking that in.” + +“Please don’t cast reflections on the dear burros. They are really very +clever.” + +“And I am not?” + +Patty laughed. “I can’t say that when you are so quick to draw +conclusions. I had a good reason for not wanting to come home with you.” + +“What was it?” + +“I can’t tell you now.” + +“Will you some day? On the day you tell me the wishes? By the way, when +are we to look for our answers?” + +“Oh, I don’t know. I shall have to ask Tomás about it. He knows a queer +witch woman who tells him all sorts of curious things.” + +“If I may inquire, how did you and the old don happen to be on the +_carretera_ in company with a beggar?” + +“Oh, I was taking a walk. I met the beggar first. I was expostulating +with him when Don Felipe came up. He is a mean old curmudgeon for he +wouldn’t back me up about buying the donkey, and he hasn’t a drop of +pity in his veins for he only laughed when I asked him to order the man +not to beat his burro.” Her expressive face was very serious. “You were +very good, Mr. Lisle. I haven’t thanked you for coming to the rescue. +I might have known an American and a Kentuckian would do so. In fact, +I was sure of it. Perhaps I have interrupted your morning’s excursion. +Were you going far with Victor?” + +“I wasn’t going anywhere in particular. There was a vacant seat in the +cart and I thought I would go on to Ribadesella, perhaps, and come back +by train. This is much more of an adventure. Your praise is very sweet +and mine is all the pleasure. One doesn’t have an opportunity every +day, even in Spain, to come to the aid of a lady in distress. Do we +turn off here?” + +“Yes, there is the chapel just ahead. I see someone there. Let us wait.” + +The tiny chapel boasted a portico under whose shelter wayfarers might +pause for protection from sun or rain, and incidentally invoke the good +offices of the Virgin who smiled from her little shrine beyond the iron +grating. On the stone floor of the porch a girl was kneeling with arms +widely outstretched and face upturned. + +“It is Perdita,” whispered Patty. “I wonder what she is asking for. +Did you ever see such an earnestly beautiful face? I hope, oh, I do +hope, she will get what she wants. She looks as if she wanted it so +dreadfully. Now, she is going. Don’t let her see that we have noticed +her.” + +But Perdita did not turn her eyes as she arose from her knees, and, +after making her reverence and devoutly crossing herself, she went in +an opposite direction down a leafy road and was presently lost to +sight. + +“Now,” said Patty, “you can stay here and I will go and ask the Virgin +to bless the donkey.” + +“Are you a Roman Catholic?” + +“No, but Guido is.” + +“Guido?” + +“Yes, that is the donkey’s name, I have decided. It is the Spanish for +Guy and he does look such a guy, poor dear.” + +She went to the chapel and knelt for a few minutes upon the stone +floor, then she returned to her companion. “It is so lovely here that +I always want to stay awhile,” she told him. “I like the way they +have shelter and seats for the weary on these porches. Fasten Guido +somewhere and come up on the porch. You can see the Virgin inside +there. She is a very plain little person, for she is very ancient, and +you can see she wears the Asturian dress. She seems such a nice, simple +sort of body that I don’t wonder the peasants love her. You see,” she +went on, after Robert had made his survey of the interior, “I have +a great respect for the Roman Catholics, for I have lived with the +sisters so long and they have told me many things. I know the stories +of the saints by heart. Sometimes they used to bore me dreadfully, +but after all I am glad to become acquainted with the legends of the +church for they explain a great many things to you when you travel. I +never dared to say how much I believed and how much I didn’t, but the +dear sisters had faith enough for both. While I was at the convent I +went always to chapel and am as much at home with the Roman Catholic +services as with my own. Of course, here in Spain, one must be a Roman +Catholic to be thoroughly respectable, but so far I have never had to +discuss the question. Isn’t this a peaceful spot?” + +There was no disputing the peacefulness. Far removed from the highway +as the little chapel was, a stranger would come upon it quite unawares +in its sheltering green. A small stream went singing upon its way near +by; the birds called to one another from the grove; wild flowers nodded +in the breeze. The far off creak of a cow-cart droned out once in a +while from a distance. + +“And you like it?” Robert turned to his companion. “You don’t find it +wearisome, with no gayeties, no city sights? You don’t miss social +entertainments?” + +“Do you?” + +“No, but I should think you would, glad lady.” + +“That is where you are mistaken. Of course I like good times, and young +companions. I like pretty gowns and all the whirl of entertaining and +being entertained, but it isn’t everything. I’d far rather live the +life we used to have with those I loved in the dear old home, with the +neighbors we cared for and who cared for us, a visit to town once in a +while, part of a winter, maybe, and the rest of the year the freedom, +the peace, the joy of the country among green growing things, flying +along down the country roads on horseback, sitting in the garden to +watch the sunset, grubbing among the flowers. Oh!” She drew a long +breath. “It is all over, what is the use of thinking and longing for +what you cannot have back again? I shall try to be content wherever +I am. There is too much misery in the world for one to whine who has +enough.” + +“That is a brave saying,” returned Robert, gravely. “The don and his +palace do not loom up so largely then?” + +“Dear me, no.” She gave a little laugh. Robert looked at her +inquiringly. + +“I am just thinking,” she said, “of what a good time Polly must be +having with me away. I badger her to death, and his donship, too. I +think he is disgusted with me for this morning’s actions.” + +“He has poor taste, then. Do you think that Miss Paulette would like to +be Mrs. Don?” + +“I don’t know. A girl like that doesn’t wish to be left behind in a +race. It may be she simply wants to prove her powers, yet, Polly is +rather a canny person, I am beginning to think. I am fond of her but +her French thrift does crop up once in a while and a practical marriage +would have no fears for her. What a nice comfortable time they are all +having, to be sure, Tina and all of them. The opinion that sister has +of me is appalling.” + +“I imagine it perhaps, a case of John Smith’s opinion of himself, his +friends’ opinion, and the real John Smith. I fancy your real self is +pretty well hidden under an assumption of character which belies you.” + +“Is that flattery or not?” + +“You just said your sister had an appalling opinion of you.” + +“Then I begin to see the compliment glimmering through the obscurity of +the setting. From certain signs which may be diagnosed as the pangs of +hunger I think it is time to go back. Moreover, I am sure Guido ought +to have a good and sufficient meal and be given a thorough cleaning. I +wonder why the Lord bestowed anything so ludicrous and at the same time +so heart-rending as a donkey’s bray upon the poor creatures, and is it +because of that they are always objects of derision?” + +“That is a puzzling question, and one for which I doubt if any answer +can be found.” + +“It will be hot on the _carretera_, but I have an umbrella and we can +keep in the shade wherever there is any. That is one of the advantages +of this delightful climate, no matter how hot the sun is one can always +be comfortable in the shade.” + +They trudged back over the dusty _carretera_. Few people were +encountered, though the women were working in the fields and by the +singing stream a company of laundresses were still at work rubbing +their wash upon the stones. + +Don Felipe had recounted the story of the donkey, so that Master +Guido’s appearance was not unexpected, but at Patty’s recital of the +tale her sister entirely sympathized with her and pledged herself to +petition her husband that Guido be allowed to become Patty’s property. + +“He will not grudge the poor little creature food and shelter,” Doña +Martina said, “but whether he will think it proper for you to accept +him from Robert Lisle is another thing.” However, Robert made much of +the relationship, and upon these grounds Patty was allowed to accept +the gift. But that was not till the following day. Don Juan was busy +with guests when Guido arrived, so that Patty handed her charge over to +the gardener, who promised to give him proper care. + + + + + CHAPTER X + + SANTA MARIA MARINA + + +The guests from Ribadesella were a stately old gentleman and his +widowed daughter, a handsome young woman picturesquely wrapped in the +mourning veil it is the custom in Spain for women to wear. It combined +shawl and head covering, being an immense square of soft veiling which +was draped around head and figure with graceful effect. Don Tomás was +not at home, Doña Martina was busy with household matters, Paulette +was giving her attention to the young widow, Señora Campos, while Don +Juan was entertaining her father, Don Amable, being assisted in the +performance by Don Felipe. + +“Bother!” exclaimed Patty, after a brief colloquy with her sister. +“Strangers are here. Will you stay and see them, Mr. Lisle?” + +“Shall I not be in the way? I think I would better go on unless I can +be of some use,” responded her companion. + +“Do stay,” begged Doña Martina. “Tomás is off somewhere. The cook +has a toothache and has her face tied up with a black rag. She is +invoking all the saints to come to her aid, but will not resort to any +reasonable means of relief. I shall have to send Anita into the kitchen +to help, so Patty, if you will give an eye to the table, Mr. Lisle +can go up and help Juan talk to the men. A new arrival will make them +forget to wonder why our meal is late.” She bustled off, leaving Patty +and the young man alone. + +“We have our orders,” said Patty. “Mind you talk nicely to Don Amable. +He speaks a little English, I believe, and then there is the handsome +widow whom you can try your Spanish on. What you can’t say in words you +can make up in telling glances.” + +“The prospect positively scares me,” rejoined Robert, pulling out his +handkerchief to fan himself in pretended agitation. + +“Is this yours?” Patty stooped to pick up a sealed letter, her quick +eye taking in the superscription on which read: “Miss Beatrice Moffatt.” + +Robert took the letter mechanically, held it in his hand and looked at +it gravely for a moment. “Yes, it is mine,” he answered. “I meant to +post it this morning, but there is no hurry.” And he slipped it into +his coat pocket, then went upstairs. + +“Now, who is Miss Beatrice Moffatt?” said Patty to herself. “I never +heard of her before.” + +The visitors from Ribadesella had come to invite Don Juan and his +friends to the coming _fiesta_ of Santa Maria Marina, it being the +event of the season for the little seaport, and, having given their +invitation, taken their meal, and made many high-flown and elaborate +speeches, they took their departure. + +“Don Amable is a nice old chap,” Patty remarked, “but I don’t think his +name suits him with that fierce moustache of his. Are we all going to +the _fiesta_, and when is it to be, Juan? Where is Tomás? I want him to +tell me about Santa Maria Marina.” + +“Tomás has been gone since morning,” Doña Martina told her. “I believe +he said he was going up the mountain.” + +“May I not be your informant on the subject of Santa Maria Marina?” +asked Don Felipe. + +“Oh, I am not so curious but I can wait for Tomás,” replied Patty, +lightly. “I couldn’t think of troubling you about so slight a matter. I +hope he was properly snubbed,” she said afterward to Robert. “After the +way he behaved about the donkey he can keep his old palace and all that +is in it, for all me. Stingy old wretch, very likely he’d beat his wife +as well as his donkey, if he had a wife.” + +Robert beamed. “Then there’s only Tomás,” he remarked. + +“Only Tomás? What on earth are you talking about?” + +The young man made no reply except to draw from his pocket a letter +which he deliberately tore into small pieces, then he stooped down, +picked up a stick with which he dug a hole in the ground, and buried +the bits therein, covering them up and stamping the earth down hard. +“Peace be to her memory,” he said with a smile as he brushed the earth +from his hands. + +“The quiet girl’s. Let’s talk about something else, the _fiesta_, for +instance.” + +“I’d rather talk about ‘the quiet girl,’ as you call her. Who is she? +Miss Beatrice Moffatt?” + +“How do you know?” + +“I saw the name on the letter.” + +“And remembered?” + +Patty flushed up. “Well, it wasn’t so long ago that I saw, just before +lunch, and one doesn’t have to have an unusual memory to recollect that +far back.” + +“But that it should have made an impression at all.” Robert beat the +earth from the little stick he held and looked down thoughtfully. + +“Oh, well, you see--” Patty strove for a proper excuse, “one comes in +contact with so many Spanish names, you know,” she went on rapidly, +“that when an English one meets your eye it makes an impression.” + +“I see; a very good explanation. You wouldn’t be interested in Miss +Moffatt. She is as unlike you as it is possible for anyone to be. She +is like a neutral day, such as we had yesterday, while you resemble +such a day as this, all sunshine and color and light. Miss Moffatt is a +drab day, sky, earth, sea all one tint, no light and shade in it, not +weepy, only quiet gray.” + +“Such days are very restful sometimes.” + +“Yes, but one wouldn’t care for them all the year round. Once in a +while, perhaps. I enjoy Miss Moffatt sometimes; she is such a good +listener.” + +Patty laughed. “You shall tell me more of her sometime. My curiosity is +satisfied for the moment. I see Tomás coming and now we can learn all +about the _fiesta_.” + +“We?” + +“Yes, why not?” + +“Oh, I shall be charmed to learn.” + +“Where have you been, Tomás?” queried Patty, as the young man came up. +“Gone all day, no one knows where.” + +“I’ve been up on the mountain,” Tomás answered. “There is a little +chapel up there. I know the _cura_ very well, and I like to visit him +sometimes. He has been wanting me to come and look over some figures +of the saints and one of Our Lady; they are very old and the paint is +quite worn off. He wished me to see if perhaps I could restore them.” + +“And can you?” + +“I think so; he will send them down.” + +“Come into the garden and tell us about the _fiesta_ at Ribadesella. We +are all going. Don Amable and Doña Elvira have been here, and we are +invited to their house to lunch. The town’s people keep open house, +we hear, so the more the merrier, they said, or words to that effect. +Come over to the chestnut tree, it is lovely there now.” They passed on +and as they turned into the garden path someone came along the little +road beyond; it was a peasant girl who stopped, looked, and then went +hurriedly on. + +At the same moment Tomás halted. “Perdita,” he said under his breath. +“It is Perdita.” + +“Is that Perdita?” asked Patty, over her shoulder. “She is such a +pretty girl. We saw her at the chapel of our Lady of Pity this morning, +but she did not see us. Does she live near there?” + +“No, but she has a friend who does. Perdita lives in a village further +up the mountain.” + +“Then she is going home now, I suppose. She seems such a nice, ladylike +sort of girl, quite unlike a peasant.” + +Tomás made no reply, but presently launched forth into an account of +the _fiesta_ to which they were going. “Don Roberto accompanies you?” +he said questioningly, looking at Robert. + +“You are going, aren’t you?” Patty asked the young Englishman. “You are +included in the invitation, you know.” + +“Then I will go with pleasure.” + +“And we shall have Don Felipe, I suppose. How about yourself, Tomás?” + +“I? If you will excuse me, I think I will not go. I have seen the +_fiesta_ many times, and you will have an abundance of escorts without +me.” + +Patty thought he looked a little troubled. She wondered why. Could it +be on Robert Lisle’s account? “Oh, if you don’t want to go,” she said +aloud. + +“This time I think I will not,” he answered without further excuse, and +Patty made no protest. “If he wants to stay at home by himself, let +him,” she said to herself. + +An early start had to be made in order to take the only train which +would reach the small town in time for the ceremonies. It was found +to be a quaint little place, full of picturesque corners, archways, +windows and doors. Just now it was ablaze with the red and yellow +Spanish colors. When all else in the way of decoration failed a yellow +bed-quilt was pressed into service. A handsome bed-quilt is a necessity +in the eye of the Spanish housewife, and a yellow one is not to be +despised since it lends itself to decoration on such occasions. Strips +of red and yellow cloth waved in the breezes, banners floated from the +windows, over the window ledges were hung anything red or yellow which +was available. + +“The church is scarcely worth seeing,” Don Juan told them, “but the +town is and the little harbor.” + +It was market day, although Sunday, and the square was full of market +people, in vociferous tones crying their wares. There was no sign of a +procession as yet. + +“Shall we go to the church?” asked Don Juan, “or shall we go down by +the quay and see what is going on there?” + +“Oh, by all means the quay,” the girls decided. “There will be a second +mass after a while and we can hear that.” + +Down by the water’s edge the crowd was collecting, some leaning over +the parapet to watch the flower-decked barges, some walking up and +down, some standing in groups talking, rich and poor alike together. +The little port was well situated and commanded a view of green hills, +of a stretch of sandy beach and a bridge. Large and small crafts rocked +on the waters of the bay; little rowboats plied back and forth. + +At last there was a distant sound of music, the drone of a bag pipe, +the tap of a drum, the blare of trumpets. Everyone rushed to the corner +of the square. It was not a very imposing procession, this upon land; +a few priests, and acolytes with swinging censers, with but a handful +of followers, made up the body of those who attended the rude little +figure of the venerated Virgin. This was borne to the water’s edge +under a canopy. A decorated barge was in waiting. In this embarked +priests, musicians and acolytes, the Virgin occupying a place in the +center, and soon the barge moved slowly out. + +“There is Don Amable,” cried Patty. And at the same moment her own +party was recognized by the gentleman and his daughter. + +“You are going with us on our boat?” said Don Amable. “Certainly, +certainly you are. There is plenty of room. We have been expecting +you.” And with as much haste as the occasion admitted, they were urged +on board the boat which, taking its turn, was now waiting. A number of +other guests were already seated upon the garlanded boat and these were +presented with due ceremony. Everything moves slowly in Spain and it +was some time before the whole line of some two dozen boats and barges, +was ready to move. The larger crafts followed close in the wake of that +which carried the priests and the sacred wooden figure; next came the +smaller boats, the little rowboats bringing up the rear. Slowly, very +slowly, the procession moved around the bay under the bluest of skies +and on the bluest of waters. + +“I wonder if the little plain old Virgin in her ancient costume enjoys +all this,” said Patty to her neighbor, Robert Lisle. + +“She looked very contented, I thought.” + +“Yes, didn’t she? I should think she would look forward to being +brought out of that dingy old church into the fresh air. Some of the +boats are really very pretty. That one which is rose-wreathed is +quite fetching, and there is another all green and white which I like. +Imagine seeing anything like this on Sunday in our Puritan land. I have +seen fêtes in France, of course, but somehow these appear even more +festive.” + +“I think one’s own mood has something to do with it.” + +“That may be,” said Patty, thoughtfully. + +Arriving at the little beach, mass was said in the open air, then St. +Mary of the Sea was borne again to her shrine, her presence being +believed to bring a blessing to waves and tide. + +In spite of Don Amable’s urgent invitation, Don Juan’s party did not +return with the others to the house, but took their dinner at one of +the little _fondas_, promising to see their Spanish friends later. “I +have almost forgotten where the place is,” Don Juan confessed. “Let +Don Felipe take the lead.” And Don Felipe, bursting with importance, +pompously strode on ahead with Paulette. After many turnings and +twistings they paused before an old building, mounted two flights of +stairs and found themselves in a plain little _fonda_ where lunch was +served after some waiting. A big dog which had followed them from the +street stood with wagging tail in the entry. + +Robert Lisle looked at Patty with a smile. “Shall we let him stay?” + +“Oh do,” she made reply. “Perhaps he belongs to someone who lives +here; at any rate he is doing no harm.” So Master Dog was allowed to +remain. Patty stroked his soft ears and spoke a few words to him after +which he lay down, evidently quite encouraged by what she said. As they +came out of the _comedor_ the dog was feasting on a plate of broken +pieces which had been set for him by one of the maids. + +“You see,” said Patty, “he does belong in this house. Probably he came +with someone who takes his meals here.” However, when at last they were +ready to go, the dog having consumed a second plate of food started to +follow them again. “Oh, we mustn’t let him, must we?” said Patty. “He +might get lost. Dear doggie, although we feel quite flattered by your +evident favor we cannot take you with us.” She turned to the mistress +of the house who was passing through the entry: “Your dog wants to go +with us. Perhaps you’d better keep him with you for awhile.” + +“My dog!” The woman’s face dropped. “Is he not yours?” + +“Not ours; no indeed.” + +“And I have ordered Maria to give him two plates of dinner,” she +exclaimed. “The beast!” + +“Oh, never mind,” cried Patty, hurriedly taking out her purse and +handing out a peseta; “that will pay for his dinner.” + +“We don’t grudge him a little food,” said the woman, softening before +this generosity, “but to steal in that way and impose himself upon us.” + +“But it was so clever,” argued Patty, stroking the dog’s head as he +stood looking from one to the other with wistful eyes. “He must belong +to someone; he is far too nice a dog to be a stray, and I think he +showed great cleverness to come in here with us.” All this was said in +rather halting Spanish, but the woman understood and having been well +paid, quite agreed with the señorita that it was a very clever dog. + +“If I didn’t believe he would find his master,” said Patty to her +companion, “I’d ask Juan to let us take him home.” + +“And you already have Guido.” + +“Yes, but you needn’t be jealous for Guido; he is in clover. Juan is +negotiating for a donkey cart, and then his work will begin.” + +“I can imagine what desperate burdens you will impose upon him. I can +fancy your always walking up hill.” + +“Just you wait and see. Now I know how strong the _burros_ are I am +going to make the most of Master Guido, though of course, I shall not +want him overworked.” + +They had promised Doña Elvira to take _merienda_ with her, and +therefore all turned in the direction of Don Amable’s house after +some sauntering about the town. The place was gay enough now; +merry-go-rounds were in lively competitions, vendors of sweets and +balloons drove a good trade, and every house appeared to have emptied +itself upon the streets. The principal houses were preparing for +illumination and were thronged with guests. At Don Amable’s quite +a company had gathered, and at four o’clock _merienda_ was served, +chocolate and cakes, wines and fruit, nuts and various sweets. Did the +_Inglesas_ prefer tea or coffee it could be offered, but the _Inglesas_ +preferred the excellent chocolate to the probably poor tea, declined +cigarettes and partook of the appetizing little cakes. + +Soon it was train time. Don Amable would see them to the station. The +other guests with many a “_Vaya V. con Dios_,” “_A los pies de V._” and +“_Beso á V. la mano_,” bowed them out and they took their way through +the quaint streets and under gray archways to the station, leaving the +little wooden Virgin to the quiet of the dim church, but Don Felipe in +the society of the handsome widow. + +Tomás was not at home when they arrived, but Guido’s muzzle was thrust +over the opening in the stable door and he gave a welcoming bray as he +saw them approaching. The little village, however, seemed very quiet +and more than ever afar from the haunts of men, with its sheltering +mountains to keep off rough winds and its winding stream to feed its +gardens. + +“It is not like old Kentucky,” Patty observed to her sister, “but, +after all, it isn’t a bad place to stay in and one could give the home +touch to the house in time.” + +Doña Martina gave a little sigh. “Yes, so one can, and I hope to, but +when I think of living here a lifetime and perhaps losing you, Patty, +it seems rather a desolate outlook.” + +“Losing me?” + +“Yes. I know I must in time, though if it should happen to be Tomás, +we could be together as neighbors and as then it would not be so hard. +There are only two of us left, and it would be hard to part.” + +“But there is Juan.” + +“Yes, but dear as he is, one does like one’s very own with whom one has +been brought up, whose ways are the same, who understands something +else than a Spanish point of view.” + +“I see,” said Patty thoughtfully. + +“Juan felt the same, no doubt,” Doña Martina went on. “I know he pined +for these mountains, this very little village. I didn’t understand then +why it was that I couldn’t make up for it all; now I do.” + +Patty went up and put her arms around her sister. “Dear old Tina,” she +said, “we mustn’t live apart; it wouldn’t do for either of us. I may be +a wretched nuisance and an awful tease, but you are my all, Tina dear, +and though I seem to conceal the fact sometimes, you are the most +precious sister in the world.” + +Perhaps it was because of this talk that Robert Lisle saw no more of +Patty that evening, and that she elected to go off with Don Juan for a +walk, leaving Robert to Paulette’s tender mercies. It is at least quite +sure that the young man, when smoking his final pipe that evening, +contemplated writing another letter to the quiet girl, and told himself +that memories were the easiest things in the world to disinter, +provided there were given sufficient cause for so doing. He did not +finish his pipe, and it was not to Miss Moffatt that he gave his last +waking thought. + + + + + CHAPTER XI + + GIPSIES + + +As if by common consent, Patty and Robert Lisle saw little of one +another during the next few days. It was the season of the year when +one _fiesta_ was followed closely by another with a _feria_ or two +interspersed. The haying was over and this harvest was one which called +men, women, and children into the field. Those too poor to possess +a cow and cart, carried home their bundles of hay upon their heads, +even the little children bearing as much as their powers would permit. +It was not an infrequent sight to see grandmother, mother, and two +or three children bowed under loads which nearly hid them from view. +It was, therefore, not remarkable that a _fiesta_ at the close of +the haying harvest should be held in honor of the Madonna, who, for +purposes best suited to her worshipers, was called _Nuestra Señora del +Henar_, Our Lady of the Hay. As each little pueblo favored some special +saint or Madonna, the country-side swarmed with gipsies, mendicants, +halt or maimed, blind musicians and strolling players, all of whom were +much in evidence whenever a fête or a fair was in progress. + +Many were the tales told the _Inglesas_ of miracles performed by the +saints, tales which Patty declared were not more wonderful than those +the nuns in France had related to her, and she in return would recount +to Manuela or Anita or Consuelo the legends which she knew. In these +they delighted, and she was looked upon as less of a heretic than had +been supposed. + +Especially did Patty enjoy Perdita’s stories, which had been told the +young peasant girl by her old grandmother, whom Don Juan had treated so +successfully, and there was scarce a day that Perdita did not appear, +it might be with no better present than a bunch of wild flowers or a +couple of new-laid eggs, but she always brought something. Don Juan, +it may be said in passing, was acquiring such a reputation among the +peasantry that he was obliged to set aside a certain hour in the day +when he would receive his charity patients. + +“I don’t see why he doesn’t hang out his sign and practise regularly,” +said Patty to her sister. + +“Oh, my dear, it wouldn’t be wise. A certificate legalizing him to do +so would cost several hundred dollars and these poor people could never +pay the fees he ought to ask. He would get nothing from most and those +who could pay at all would think a peseta or two quite enough for a +visit. Now, as it is, you see, they help out the larder with many a +present, and in many ways make it easy for us. While Juan is here doing +this special writing he’d better not practise regularly, for his book +will be more profitable. When he gets quite strong again we shall see +what is to be done.” + +It was one morning just before the feast of the Hay that Perdita +appeared with a small cheese for the Señor Doctor. Patty stopped on the +way out. “Perdita,” she said, “I want to ask you about the gipsies. Are +you in a hurry to-day?” + +“No, señorita. But the gipsies have the evil eye and one must be +careful, very careful. My grandmother tells me to avoid them.” + +“Oh, but I want to see them. Did you never have your fortune told?” + +Perdita hung her head. “No, señorita, but I should like to. One must +have silver for them, you see, and silver is not so plentiful.” + +“Tell me about your home. I should like to see where you live. Is it +far?” + +“It is perhaps two miles. We are not so badly off. We have our little +house, some land, a cow, a pig, chickens. It is hard work for us to +attend to all, but now the hay is in it will be easier.” + +“Do you do all the work?” + +“Most of it. The grandmother is getting old, yet she always is telling +me I needn’t work so hard.” + +“Why?” + +“I do not know. She is mysterious sometimes.” + +“Has she a hoard, do you think? Money saved?” + +Perdita shook her head. “Of that I cannot be sure, but when a thing +is needed there is always money for it. I have my Asturian dress, as +handsome as any; it is of good stuff, and my ornaments, too, are not +bad, my chain and brooch. Some day I hope I may have earrings of the +old sort.” + +“I noticed how fine you were the first time I saw you, and I said then +you seemed superior to the rest. Your mother is not living?” + +“No, señorita, she died when I was born.” + +“And your father?” + +“I do not know where he is. I have often asked my grandmother, but she +does not like to talk of him. She tells me I have seen him, that my +mother died a year after she was married and then my father took me in +his arms and swore I should never come to want, and so I never have.” + +“But how strange, if he be living, that he does not come to you.” + +“I will tell you what I think, señorita. I think he has gone to +America, to Cuba or Mexico, maybe, and that some day he will come back.” + +“Yes, that might be very possible, so many do that.” + +“It is what the señor doctor thinks, too, and so I look forward to the +return.” + +“How nice it would be to have him come back. He would, perhaps, give +you fine clothes and build a nice house like other Americanos do who +return to their villages. No doubt he is waiting to make a fortune for +you. Of course you know his name.” + +“Yes, it is Pedro. I was named Perdita because my father lost his wife +when I came into the world. Perdita Gonzalez I am called.” + +“Gonzalez is your father’s name?” + +“No; I take my mother’s name. You know it is so done in Spain, at least +the mother’s name is written last.” + +“I remember that now. Then your father’s name is Pedro--what?” + +“Pedro Ramon, my grandmother says.” + +“You never write to him?” + +“No; yet I can write, señorita, and read. I can embroider, too. That +I do in the long winter evenings. I will bring you a piece of my +embroidery.” + +“You are too generous, Perdita, but I should like to see it. I notice +that most of the Spanish girls embroider. I see them sitting in front +of their doorways with their embroidery frames, and I like to watch +them. Are you fond of reading? Perhaps we could lend you some books.” + +Perdita’s brown cheek took on a slight tinge of color. “I have a friend +who lends me books sometimes,” she said hesitatingly. “The _cura_ will +not always let me read them. He is very particular and there are but +few books he approves. He says a woman does not need to read any more +romantic and beautiful tales than the lives of the saints, but my +friend says our good old _padre_ is narrow minded and that while it +used to be the fashion for women in Spain to be content with knowing +little, to-day they are striving for knowledge, and many of them are +so highly educated as to put to shame the women of other countries. I +should like to be educated, señorita, but a peasant girl like me--” She +stopped with an expressive gesture. + +“You don’t seem in the least like a peasant girl, Perdita. Perhaps +when your father comes home he will allow you to have a governess and +to learn languages. If one knows languages and the literature of the +various countries one is really well educated. Suppose I begin to teach +you French or English. French would be more useful, perhaps. Would you +like that?” + +“Yes, señorita, I should like it very much, but--” + +“You have not the time? An hour or even half an hour a day would do +wonders.” + +“It is not that, señorita, but I should not like to take your time.” + +“Oh, my time is of no value, though if you feel that way about it, you +can exchange with me and I will take Spanish conversation from you. Don +Tomás is very good about helping us, but neither Mlle. Delambre nor +myself like to call upon him too often. My brother-in-law says you +speak very good Spanish.” + +“Yes, señorita, my grandmother is particular that I should. She belongs +to a good family; they have their coat-of-arms, but they became +impoverished and, like many others, had to work in the fields. There +is an old, a very old house which belongs to my grandfather’s family +and one can see the old escutcheon in stone upon the walls, though the +family are very poor now.” + +“I can understand that. It is so in my own part of the country. There +are many who before our civil war had wealth and have had to sell their +fine old houses and who have to toil for their daily bread. How we +have run off the track. I began to talk of the gipsies, and here I am +forgetting all about them. Perdita, I want very much to have my fortune +told, but I do not want anyone to know it. I think I could understand +sufficiently well now, and if not you could explain afterward. Could +you go with me to a gipsy camp? Is there one near by? Could we go +without anyone’s knowing?” + +Perdita thought over this for a moment. “Yes, señorita, I think I can +manage it,” she said presently. “To-morrow, if you will go home with +me, we shall pass a gipsy camp. It is not far. I will show you my +embroideries after we have seen the gipsies. We must not be too late, +for my grandmother does not like me near the camp late in the day.” + +“That is a lovely plan, and you are very good to think of it. I will be +ready by the time you come for me, and no one will be the wiser. Must +you go now? Let me give you two or three French sentences to say over +as you are walking home.” + +Perdita obediently repeated the words, and Patty watched her tall, +supple figure mount the hill behind the house. + +But no one was told of the plan to visit Perdita until the next day +when the peasant girl appeared, and then Patty put her head into the +room where her sister was. “I am going home with Perdita to see her +embroideries,” she announced. + +“With Perdita?” said Doña Martina. + +“Yes. She was here yesterday, and we had a long, interesting talk, in +the course of which I improved my Spanish. In two months of steady +study I have become fairly proficient, don’t you think?” + +“You have certainly not wasted your time. Juan was saying yesterday +that your progress was surprising. Well, I suppose there is no +objection to your going with Perdita. I’d like to go myself, but I +can’t this morning. How about Paulette? Have you asked her?” + +“No, and she wouldn’t care to go. She isn’t interested in any +embroideries but her own. Besides, I heard her say that Don Felipe +would be here this morning, and had promised to bring a rare old missal +to show her; she’d rather stay and see that, but I will ask her, though +I know she won’t go.” + +Having smoothed the way for her expedition, Patty started off with +Perdita. They soon left the village behind them, and by one of the +winding roads climbed the mountain. Once in a while the buzzing, +droning sound of an approaching cow-cart reached them on the narrow +way, but the slow-stepping cows always gave them plenty of time to move +aside. “I used to wonder why they never greased their carts,” said +Patty, looking after one which had just passed, “but now I know; it is +because the creak serves as a warning to get out of the way.” + +“It is not only that,” rejoined Perdita, “but the noise keeps the +devils away.” + +“I should think it would be a most efficient means of doing that,” +Patty replied, laughing. + +Near a little stream, leaping its course toward the valley, they came +upon the gipsy camp. Their first knowledge of it was derived from the +sudden appearance of three impish looking little creatures, who were +dancing forward and poking out their fingers at a turkey gobbler, which +they were challenging in some outlandish tongue. When he stretched out +his neck and gobbled, making as if to run at them, they shrieked with +glee and raced off, half in fear, half in bravado. The eldest was the +ringleader, and was by far the most fascinating, Patty thought. Around +her brown, naked, little body she had wound a strip of scarlet cloth; +this she clutched with one hand, to prevent its dropping from her +utterly. When she ran the scarlet ends trailed after her, discovering +bare arms, legs, and thighs. Her black elfish locks hung around her +face, and her burning dark eyes were full of mischief. + +“What an enticing little creature,” said Patty, standing still. At +the appearance of the two strangers the children first fled away +startled, but presently she of the scarlet cloth returned and whined +out a petition for a penny. “You are certainly worth it,” said Patty, +in English, as she deposited a _perrono_ in the dirty little hand. +The child stared, showed her white teeth, dextrously tied the coin +in a fold of her rags and ran off. The girls followed and presently +a pretty woman came forward, walking with that peculiar movement of +the hips practised by these gipsies and considered quite an elegant +accomplishment. Dirty she was beyond words, but this did not disguise +her beautiful face nor lessen the glory of her lustrous eyes. + +Could she tell the _señorita’s_ fortune? Cross her palm with silver and +it should be done. + +“I suppose I’d better make it worth while to have a fair fortune,” +said Patty, opening her purse and handing out a two _peseta_ piece, a +larger sum than was expected, without doubt. + +“_Dame la mano, señorita_,” said the gipsy. Patty held out her hands +and the woman gazed at the rosy palm earnestly. “You have crossed the +water,” she said at last, “and will cross it again more than once. A +fair-haired woman is your rival, but she is a stranger to you. There +are two men who desire to marry you. Like yourself, one comes from +across the water. The other does not. He is small, dark and has wealth. +I do not see great money for you, however, yet you will never come to +want. You will not rise to great estate, but you will have happiness. +You are of a merry, joyous disposition, yet it is hard to discover your +true heart. You will love deeply and sacrifice much for that love. I +see death which will affect someone near you.” + +This talk of death scared Patty, who withdrew her hand. “That will do, +thank you,” she said. + +“It is a good fortune? Enough?” asked the gipsy. + +“Quite enough. Now read my friend’s hand.” She produced another +_peseta_, and before Perdita could expostulate had handed it over and +Perdita was urged to extend her palm. + +The gipsy looked long and intently, frequently following the lines +with her dirty finger or raising her eyes to look searchingly into +Perdita’s face, muttering sometimes to herself. “It is strange, very +strange,” she said at last. “You are born in a peasant’s home, yet +you come of good station. You are not what you seem. Yes, yes, the +lover must hesitate, he cannot do otherwise; he does not know. Here is +a death--oh, yes, that will change all. You will then be a lady and +possess great estates. I see them everywhere; in the mountains, in the +valleys and your lover--” + +“Will he be true?” breathed Perdita through parted lips. + +“He will be true. There is the cross of marriage for you, but death +will come first. One who is near you will die--an old person.” + +“My grandmother, maybe?” + +“No, a man it is. I see many strange things, but a good ending. You +love above your station and this love is a sorrow to you, but all ends +well.” + +The girls had heard enough and were ready to go, but their departure +was delayed by swarming children begging for pennies, the inconsiderate +display of wealth by the first little girl being too much for their +cupidity. So it was with difficulty that Patty got away with a penny in +her purse; indeed, she did give up all her pennies, reserving only the +silver. + +“What did you think of it, Perdita?” she asked, when they were fairly +free from the itching palms. “Did you ever know such filth, and wasn’t +the fortune-teller a beauty? Shall you tell your grandmother about +what she said?” + +“No, señorita; she would disapprove. Better say nothing. It is all +foolishness of course.” + +“Yes, of course--but--” + +Perdita nodded. “I understand--but--” + +They were both silent for a moment, then Patty said, “Do you think any +of it could be true?” + +“Some of it was true,” replied Perdita, crossing herself. “I shall have +to confess it to the _cura_ and I will do penance, yet somehow I am not +sorry to have heard what she said.” + +“Nor I. There was a great deal about deaths and things that I didn’t +like; that seemed silly, I thought. By the time I have done with making +wishes for _inxanos_ and hearing fortunes from gipsies I shall be as +superstitious as any old woman; I must stop it.” + +They followed the road to the house of Perdita’s grandmother, a low +white dwelling in the style of most, though better than many. It had +balconies above, the patio below, the hay-loft at the side, the _orrio_ +a little beyond the house. This small grain house, peculiar to this +part of Spain, stood upon four piles of stones, four or five feet high; +on these were placed stone slabs to keep out the rats and mice. It was +covered with a thatch of straw and added to the picturesque aspect of +the little farmstead. The house was neat and clean and fairly well +furnished. Old Catalina, with her black handkerchief tied over her +head, was the very type of the ordinary peasant, and Patty decided that +it was not from her grandmother that Perdita inherited her beauty. +The old woman did not talk much, but Patty felt that she was closely +scrutinized. Perdita displayed her beautiful embroidery and pressed one +piece after another upon her guest, till Patty felt that she did not +dare to admire, lest she be called upon to accept it all. She suddenly +realized, however, that this was the Spanish form of politeness, and +was as profuse in her gracious refusals as Perdita in her offers, so +the matter was adjusted. + +They walked back together to the edge of town, where Perdita left her +visitor, promising to come the next day for a lesson in French. She had +already learned perfectly the few sentences Patty had taught her and +was eager for more. + +Don Felipe was on hand when Patty came in and she felt that she was +expected to listen to his little set speeches and flowery compliments +for the rest of the evening. But that night, as she was leaning over +the balcony looking at the starlight on the mountains, her sister came +to her side. “What are you thinking about, Patty?” she said. “You +haven’t answered, though I called you twice. Where is the letter you +wanted to show me, the one from Uncle Henry?” + +“I was wondering what was the color of Miss Moffatt’s hair,” was the +answer. + +“Miss Moffatt? Who in the world is she?” + +“Oh, I forgot; you don’t know her. Never mind. Uncle Henry’s letter is +on the table in my book of Spanish verbs.” She did not offer to get +it, but stood leaning on the ledge, thinking, thinking long after the +lights were out. + + + + + CHAPTER XII + + TOMÁS TELLS + + +The gipsy was not far wrong in her estimate of the Glad Lady, “La +Señorita Alegra,” as Perdita called her. She was more thoughtful than +the casual observer gave her credit for being, and in spite of her gay +sallies and pretended whimsies, there was, deep down in her heart, +a steadfastness and loyalty which circumstance and experience would +more fully develop. She had not the slightest idea of flirting with +Tomás, and indeed their acquaintance was of the most sensible kind, in +spite of the fact that the girl did her best to convey to her sister +the impression that it was otherwise. Though Doña Martina had long +held the position of mentor, she had not always exerted her authority +with discretion, so that now, when Patty had left school, she rather +resented the elder’s attitude and took the bit between her teeth with +an intention of going her own gait. Even as a child she had rebelled +against her sister’s attempts at coercion, once saying plaintively: +“It isn’t that I don’t want to mind Tina, but it is the way she tries +to force me that makes me disobey.” And in this case it was the way +the law was enforced rather than the law itself which aroused Patty’s +opposition. She would not have made Tomás unhappy for the world, and +had long since discovered that she could not if she would, for she +suspected that his heart beat fast at the approach of some other than +herself. It was not Paulette, of that she was convinced, nor was it +the handsome widowed daughter of Don Amable who brought a flush to his +cheek and fire to his eye. In these last days Patty had discovered more +than she was disposed to tell anyone, and the gipsy’s fortune-telling +had but corroborated her suspicions. It was Perdita in whom Tomás was +interested, and it was Tomás whom Perdita loved. She was so beautiful, +it was not surprising, Patty reflected, that she should have attracted +Tomás, and in those long months after his mother’s death, and before +the arrival of his brother, he must have been lonely and it was no +wonder he turned to someone and that the someone should be Perdita. +The little village afforded few companions of the better class, the +_padre_, the schoolmaster and his wife, and in summer one or two +families who came up from Oviedo for a change of air, so unless he +went to the larger towns near by, Tomás must seek such society as +opportunity afforded. + +As for Perdita, she was closely watched by her grandmother, and had +no intimates among the girls of the pueblo. Living as she did some +distance away, she had few chances of meeting, as the other girls did, +her friends at the _fuente_ or on the _plaza_. While all liked her, +there was a little air of aloofness about her which prevented a too +great familiarity, and she was called very proud. + +Patty was not only tender-hearted, but romantic. Moreover, she +appreciated less than one born under a monarchy, the differences in +station, and she determined that so far as in her lay she would further +the affair of Tomás and Perdita. She laughed a little to herself as she +made certain plans. It would be great fun to mislead Tina by making +her suppose it was entirely for her own ends that she lured Tomás off +to take walks with her in order that they might meet Perdita somewhere +along the way, or that she should urge him to join herself and Perdita +in the little summer house where the daily lesson was had. Perhaps +she realized, and perhaps she did not, that these daily meetings were +golden opportunities for the pair, who had rarely seen each other of +late, or at least had seldom met to have any word with one another. + +It would be lovely, Patty thought, if it should turn out that she +would eventually inherit something from that Americano father of hers. +“I am sure no one could then object,” she told herself. “As it is, +the Estradas are so proud that Juan would be shooting mad if Tomás +suggested such a thing, and what a pity that the two brothers should +quarrel just as they have been reunited. For my part,” her thoughts +ran on, “I don’t see why Tomás hasn’t just as much right to marry out +of his class as Juan did to marry out of his country.” + +With these thoughts in her mind, the girl went singing down the steps +the morning after her visit to the gipsies, pausing at the foot to give +a gay “_Buenas dias_,” to Tomás standing in the doorway. + +“Goodth morning, gladth ladthy,” responded Tomás. “You are look happy +as a roses. You have been sleeping well, yes?” + +“Very well.” Patty looked at him with a quizzical expression in her +eyes and then laughed outright. It was so funny to be possessed of his +secret and to have him in ignorance of her knowing. + +“You are very gladth?” Tomás said inquiringly. “Something agreeable has +happen-ed?” + +“Yes, something agreeable is always happening, every day. Tomás, don’t +you think Perdita is an uncommonly pretty girl?” She went nearer to him +and looked up in his face. + +He started, but immediately became composed and began slowly to +roll another cigarette before he answered, “She is very pretty says +everyone. It is not a new discovery, is it?” + +“Oh, no, not at all, but she is really beautiful with those glorious +eyes and that wonderful hair; then she has such a graceful svelt +figure, so erect and splendid in a way. I never saw a girl I admired +more. They say that in Andalusia one finds the most beautiful Spanish +women, but surely none could exceed Perdita in looks. She is very +intelligent, too, I find. Someone has been lending her books; I wonder +who.” + +Tomás did not reply at once. “The schoolmaster, Don Miguel, perhaps,” +he said after a moment. + +Patty smiled. She had her own suspicions, but it was evident Tomás was +on his guard. She put another question. “Did you know she is studying +French with me?” + +Tomás was not to be caught. “Yes; so Martina said.” + +Patty watched him run his tongue along the paper to seal his cigarette. +There was a smile on her lips and laughter in her eyes as she said, +“Oh, Tomás, Tomás, I am afraid that it is you Tina should bring to task +for flirting. Aren’t you ashamed to play with poor Perdita’s heart?” + +The hand which held the cigarette trembled so that the match went out. +“_Caracoles!_” exclaimed Tomás under his breath. + +“Snails!” cried Patty. “I always think that is such a lovely swear; it +sounds so dreadful and means so little. I am wondering, however, if +you intended it for me or the match.” She laughed teasingly. “I was +thinking,” she went on, “that maybe you would like to join my French +class. It would be useful to know French, you see, when you go to +France to marry Paulette.” + +“Paulette!” Tomás was taken off his guard, and felt himself in a mesh. +He couldn’t be rude and run away; there was no one about and there was +no excuse. “You don’t mind my cigarette?” He made the query lamely, for +he knew she did not in the least mind. + +“Oh, no,” was the answer. “Why should I suddenly conceive a dislike +to tobacco smoke when I have been used to it all my life? You haven’t +answered my question, Tomás. Should you like to join our class, +Perdita’s and mine? Although I must say it seems rather tragic to ask +you to study with Perdita in order that you may be proficient when you +go to France to live.” + +“I to live in France? Never.” + +“Oh, but Tomás, Polly is a nice girl, not high-born, maybe, but her +money would make you so comfortable.” + +“_Diablo!_” cried Tomás. “I wish not be more comfortable. I am +comfortable enough.” + +“I shouldn’t gather so from your expression. You are so violent this +morning,” Patty continued mildly. “I wonder what is the matter. You are +usually so sweet-tempered, Tomás. Juan is the peppery one. Then you +don’t want to study French?” + +Tomás puffed at his cigarette and made no reply for a moment, then in +an altered tone, he said, “Pattee, what is it you try do? Are you but +torment me, or have you a reason for do this?” + +“Nice sensible child,” said Patty, “you have at last arrived at a sane +condition of mind. Come out into the summer-house and I will tell you.” + +The little summer-house, clothed in vines, was a sure and safe retreat. +No one would be liable to interrupt them here unless they were +specially sought out, yet it was near enough to the house to observe +any comings or goings. There was a long bench on one side, two stools +on the other and a rude table in the middle, where _merienda_ could be +served. “You see,” began Patty, seating herself on one of the stools +and resting her elbows on the table, “I know you can not visit Perdita +openly on Juan’s account and for other reasons, and I am willing to +help you two, but first I must be satisfied that you are not trifling. +Perdita is too fine, too good for you to treat shabbily, to make +unhappy, and I won’t have it. If you are just playing with her I shall +make all the mischief I can, if by so doing I can put a stop to your +philandering.” She was waxing very indignant as she considered that +this might be the state of affairs. “You shall not make her unhappy,” +she repeated. + +Tomás gave a long sigh and gazed off with melancholy eyes at the blue +mountains. “My dear Pattee, what can I do? My brother has just return +to me in poor health, in nerves, in weakness. Shall I arouse the anger, +destroy the health, make him unhappiness, and drive him from the home +of youth by what I would do? I know too well his opinions, and so--we +wait--that is all to do, to wait.” + +“I understand all that,” returned Patty, “and I wish to help you, but +only if you mean well, if you mean not to trifle with Perdita.” + +“I mean well, the best. She is, as you say, so beautiful, so fine, so +good, so worthy. I give her all the heart.” He spoke with emotion, +stretching out his open palms upon the table. + +“Then I will do all I can for you, Tomás, and it seems to me that as no +one suspects the truth, it will be better if you two meet when I am a +third, so that the surmise will be that it is I who am the attraction. +I have an idea that Paulette has suspicions. She is very clever about +such things, that Polly, and she may tell my sister. I am not sure that +she has not already, for Tina was asking me some searching questions +yesterday. I would rather she should think that you and I are having a +desperate affair than that she should tell Juan and have him angry with +you and Perdita. You understand?” + +“Oh, yes, I undtherstandth.” + +“Perdita must understand, too. I wonder--” Patty paused. She wondered +if Perdita had been made to suffer in those early days when Tomás had +been pressed into service every day and hour, and when there could have +been no chance for the lovers to meet. She did not forget the little +chapel with the figure of the girl kneeling before the shrine, the +beautiful, unhappy, upturned face. Her intuitions told her that Perdita +had been made unhappy because she believed that Tomás had transferred +his affections to herself. She must know better now, or she would not +be so friendly. “Unless,” Patty spoke out, “she is a saint, and I don’t +believe she is quite that.” + +“What are you to say?” asked Tomás. + +“Oh, nothing. I was thinking aloud. Tomás, do you know anything of +Perdita’s father?” + +“No,” he shook his head. + +“What do the people about here say?” + +“They say he has gone to America to make a fortune for his daughter. +They say he broke the heart when the mother of her is to die, and that +he will not return till he have the richness to give this child of his.” + +“If he should return with money, do you think that would make any +difference in Juan’s feeling?” + +“It is not the money; it is the family. The Estradas do not marry +peasants, he has said so once very meaningly.” + +“Yes, I supposed he would say that. Then, as you say, there is nothing +to do but to wait. Perdita could not leave her grandmother now, +anyhow, but later on, when Juan is quite well, you might go to America +and take Perdita with you. Perhaps you could find out where her father +is and go there. Why not? _Mañana, mañana_, yes, Tomás, this is a time +when _mañana_ is a wise thought. Meantime, I will keep your secret, for +I like you and I am very fond of Perdita.” She held out her hand across +the table. Tomás bent his head and kissed it. At the same moment Doña +Martina paused in the doorway. + +“So this is where you two are,” she said. “We have been wondering what +had become of you. There is a _feria_ going on near Ribadesella and you +should see the people coming in with their droves of wild ponies from +the mountains, and, oh, the cheeses! the odor of them fills the air. I +am surprised you haven’t noticed the noise and clatter outside.” + +“We have been busy talking.” Patty looked conscious as she made the +excuse. + +“Well, heaven knows, you have opportunities enough for talking, but +you, Patty, can’t see wild ponies every day. Come up on the balcony +with me. I have no doubt Tomás has seen _ferias_ by the score.” + +Patty followed meekly. Her sister looked at her sharply once or twice. +After a while she put an arm around her. “Well, Patty?” she said. + +“Well?” + +“That was a pretty scene from the doorway of the summer-house.” + +“Yes, I always did think that such a very pretty scene from that +point,” returned Patty with a great show of enthusiasm. + +Her sister withdrew her arm and led the way to the house without +another word. + +“Now she’s mad,” thought Patty. “But what could I do or say other than +I did?” + +There was no French lesson that afternoon, for the ladies were whirled +away in Don Felipe’s coach to the _feria_, which, after all, was not +much of a sight. A great many very dirty gipsies were much in evidence, +this being the occasion for a great trading of horses, mules and +donkeys; there were numerous booths for eating and drinking, strolling +musicians trolled out their ditties, and dancing went on beyond the +cattle pens. + +Since the affair of the donkey, Patty had not shown much favor to +the old don, who now turned his attentions to Paulette and received +sufficient encouragement for Patty to wonder if her friend really would +marry him if the opportunity afforded. Once during the afternoon, Patty +caught sight of the yellow kerchief and silver ornaments of the pretty +fortune-teller, but made haste to turn in another direction, desiring +no recognition. She did not enjoy the afternoon very much, feeling +something lacking, whether the presence of Tomás or someone else she +would not question. + +Paulette, on the contrary, was in high feather. She had taken pleasure +in walking about with Don Felipe strutting by her side, and in seeing +that they were remarked by so many. “They remind me of a little buff +hen and a tiny Bantam rooster,” Patty remarked to her sister when they +were following in the wake of the pair. + +“You are always so severe on the poor little don,” said Doña Martina. +“I am sure he can’t help being so small.” + +“He can help being so deadly important. He always reminds me of that +line in the Psalter, where it speaks of those with ‘a proud look and a +high stomach.’ I never appreciated it quite so much as since I met Don +Felipe.” + +“But you enjoyed riding in his coach.” + +“Oh, not so very much. I think Paulette enjoyed it more. I’d much +rather have come with Tomás in the little cart and have driven my dear +_asnillo_.” + +“Oh, I suppose so. Anywhere so you are alone with Tomás.” + +“Yes; aren’t you glad we should have become such good friends?” +returned Patty heartily. At this juncture, Don Felipe paused before +a booth, where he ordered refreshments, and Doña Martina had no +opportunity of answering. + +A couple of saucy Gallegos paused before the party to improvise +ditties in praise of the strangers, a proceeding which always amused +bystanders and one to which the _Inglesas_ had become accustomed, so +they were in nowise abashed in being relegated to high places or in +being complimented as highly as flowery phrases would admit. They knew +they would be expected to pay for the flattery and meantime it was +rather amusing to discover how ingenious the singers could be. + +When they reached home Tomás was absent, but he came in later and a +significant glance passed between him and Patty, which was followed up +later by the whispered question, “Have you seen her?” + +“Yes,” came the answer. + +“She understands?” + +“Yes, and will come to-morrow.” + +“It seems to me that you and Tomás have a great many secrets,” said +Paulette that evening, when she and Patty were preparing for bed. + +“Yes, it is nice, isn’t it, to have confidences with one’s sister’s new +brother. I quite enjoy it, never having had a brother of my own. And +have you no secrets, Polly?” + +Paulette considered before she answered, “Not yet.” + +Patty came over and sat on the arm of Paulette’s chair. “Would you +really marry Don Felipe, if he asked you?” she inquired. + +“Why not? He is a great match. My guardian would be greatly pleased.” + +“Oh, dear, but do you love him?” + +“Why should I? He is rich and no doubt would make an excellent husband. +What more could I ask?” + +“I suppose,” said Patty running her fingers through Paulette’s bright +hair, “that it is enough for you, but it wouldn’t be for me. I should +die, die, die.” She emphasized the words with a tap of her finger on +Paulette’s head. + +“I would not do that. I would live and very happily in that great +_palacio_.” + +“Which you pretended I was welcome to when I suggested Tomás and love +in a cottage.” + +“Ah, yes, but--Tomás--” + +“What of him?” + +“Has his mind set elsewhere. He has become _distrait_, that young man, +and when he has not whispers for you he has eyes for someone else.” + +Patty was silent for a moment, then with a sort of bravado she said: +“Oh well, you will see. It is only a question of time. Meanwhile dream +of your _palacio_ and I will dream, too.” + +“Of what?” + +Patty would not tell, but before she went to sleep her thoughts +wandered back to a box-hedged garden, the one of which she and Robert +Lisle had talked. Where was he? Not a word of him since he bade them +farewell and departed for Santander. “That chapter is closed,” sighed +Patty, as she turned on her pillow. “I have presented a palace to +Polly, a heart to Perdita, and there is nothing left for me.” + + + + + CHAPTER XIII + + THE LONG WHITE ROAD + + +Doña Martina and Paulette were going to Llanes with Don Juan to do some +shopping, but Patty declined to accompany them, having spent all her +money on blind beggars she said. The truth was she had become a little +tired of Paulette. It was all very well when she was one of a number +at the convent, but, as she told her sister, “a daily diet of Paulette +palls on me. I didn’t mean that for a pun, Tina. It isn’t that I don’t +like her, for I do, but I weary of her little screams and affectations, +her material way of looking at things. She isn’t exactly heartless, +but she is calculating like her shop-keeping ancestors, and she has +small frugalities which drive me mad. Moreover I am not quite sure +how sincere she is. I can’t talk to her with half the freedom I do to +Perdita, who is so open-hearted and natural.” + +“Then you are sorry you brought Paulette with you? I was wondering at +the time if it might not prove a mistake, but you were so sure you +wanted her and I knew there would be but few young companions here for +you.” + +“I’m not sorry she came, at the same time I shall not be sorry to see +her go. Paulette for breakfast, dinner and supper during three solid +months wears on one. If Cary Logan hadn’t gone home I’d much rather +have had her, but Paulette was the only one available and so--. Please +take her off my hands for a day, Tina, and I will freshen up my jaded +sensibilities while you are gone.” + +So it was that Paulette and Doña Martina went off together while Patty +was left to the comfort of a quiet day alone. She spent her first +hour very idly. It was such a satisfaction to be lazy, not to hear +Paulette’s little heels clicking along the floor, and to know her +solitude would not be broken in upon by “_Ma foi_, Patty, what are you +doing? Shall we walk? Shall we ride to-day? Shall we study the Spanish? +Are you not going to do somesing?” “And now I am going to do exactly as +I please, just as the spirit moves me,” she told herself as she leaned +on the railing of the galleria, and looked up and down the long white +road: “When I get tired of staying here I’ll do the next thing that +occurs to me.” Yet being naturally an energetic person, she could but +plan what she would do. That morning she would loaf. In the afternoon +she would take Guido and have a drive. Perhaps she would drive home +with Perdita after the French lesson, and would come around by an old +house she knew where she had seen an ancient knocker on the gate. She +would like to have the knocker because Don Felipe wanted it. They said +he always got what he wanted, but this time she would have the thing +he desired, because Pepe, who lived in the old house, had promised it +to her if to anyone. She knew of another thing which Don Felipe had +not secured, but about this she kept her own counsel. Along the long +white road a constant procession passed, wagons of the _viajantes_, +droves of cattle for the market, a woman with a _macona_ balanced upon +her head, others with tubs coming from the washing place, a child with +a bucket so heavy as to make it hard for her to walk steadily, burros +with loaded panniers, gipsies, gallegos, blind musicians, peddlers. +Patty watched them all, her thoughts following them on, or taking a +leap to the rough country road down which she had so often galloped on +her little pony. She had traveled so far, and was so absorbed in her +thoughts that she was startled when a voice below her spoke softly, +“Señorita,” and looking down she saw Perdita smiling up at her. + +“I have brought you some _brevas_,” said the girl. + +“_Brevas!_ How fine. You know how I like them. I’ll come down,” and she +descended the stairs to receive this gift of early figs. “It was good +of you to bring them, Perdita.” + +“Oh, but señorita, how good you are. Tomás has told me.” + +“That is nothing. We must have a long talk, Perdita. Can you not stay +with me to-day? I am all alone, for they have everyone gone to Llanes, +even Tomás, and I believe I should have been a little lonely after a +while.” + +“I can stay if you wish it, yes, señorita.” + +“Then come in. Bring the _brevas_ upstairs and we will eat them there. +It is fortunate you came this morning, for now there will be no one to +interrupt our talk. This afternoon we can have the French early and +then go for a ride.” She set the basket of figs on the table in her +own room and settled Perdita in one chair while she took one opposite. +“Now,” she said in a satisfied tone, “we shall enjoy ourselves. So +Tomás told you that I had made a discovery. I only guessed it, Perdita.” + +“Yes, señorita.” Perdita cast down her eyes. + +Patty sat peeling the green skin from a _breva_ while she watched +the girl’s face. “Do you know, Perdita,” she began, “that at first I +thought he might be flirting--how shall I say that in Spanish?--that he +was making a _coqueteria_ with you--and I was angry.” + +“You are so good, señorita.” + +“Oh, but I am not, for there was a time when I tried to make sister +think I was flirting with Tomás myself. She thinks now that we are +in earnest. Perdita were you jealous?” She leaned over and took the +girl’s toil-worn fingers in hers. “Were you _zeloso_?” + +“Of you, señorita?” + +“Yes, of me.” + +“I am afraid I was, señorita. There were many days after you came that +I did not see Tomás at all, and I was very unhappy.” + +“Of course you were, poor dear, but he couldn’t help himself; we all +kept him so busy, and I must admit that I was the one who demanded the +most from him. You see, Perdita, I didn’t know then about you, and I +liked Tomás very much, not in the way you do, but as a friend, and I +like him still, and shall do all I can for him and you.” + +“_Gracias, señorita_, you are so very good, but--.” The lovely face +took on an expression of sadness. + +“What is it?” + +“I know at last we must part. I try not to think of that _mañana_, for +when Tomás is near me he assures me it will not be so, and I think only +of the happiness I have. But it would be very wrong to marry below +one’s station as he would do. I asked the _padre_ if one would do right +to marry beneath him, and he said no, though sometimes if there was no +one to offend it might not be out of place. You see there is someone to +offend. Don Juan it is, and how could I do him a wrong who has been so +good to us, who has restored to my grandmother her sight? No, señorita, +it cannot be, unless Don Juan were to say so. When you came I knew it +would be a proper thing if he married the sister of his brother’s wife, +so that there would be one happy family. I told him this and said I +could never marry him; that was after I had asked the _padre_.” + +“And poor Tomás believed you, I verily think, for I am certain that he +tried for a time to do as you had suggested, that is to grow very fond +of me.” + +“Yes, he tried,” replied Perdita, with perfect honesty, “but he came +back to me one day and said he, too, was very unhappy, and that the +sight of me had put to flight all other thoughts. What could I do? +What could I do then? I was so miserable, I could have died with +misery before that, and when he said he could not love any other, ah, +señorita, it was such happiness.” + +“I think I remember the time,” said Patty slowly. “Well then, Perdita?” + +“Then he said he would wait; it was all we could do. I have prayed Our +Lady to have pity on us and perhaps she will, though if it is wrong, as +the _padre_ says, of course she would not. She could not allow us to do +wrong, you see.” + +“I cannot see why it would be wrong,” Patty declared. “You tell me you +come of good family.” + +“My mother did, yes, but of my father what do I know?” + +“True, yet I am convinced it will all be well some day. You are young, +both of you, and can wait. How old are you, Perdita?” + +“I am twenty, señorita.” + +“Just my age, and goodness knows I haven’t the slightest idea of +marrying anyone. Even supposing you two could marry now, I am sure you +would appear well. Dressed like a lady you would seem far more like one +than many I could mention.” + +“I resemble my mother they say, señorita. I do not look at all like +my father, and I am told my grandmother was very proud of my mother’s +appearance.” + +“Perdita!” Patty suddenly had an inspiration. “Wouldn’t you like to see +how you would look dressed like a lady?” + +“Oh, señorita!” + +“It would be great fun.” Patty sprang to her feet and opened the door +of a clothes-press. “You are only a little taller than I, though I am +more slender. Let me see.” She took down one garment after another and +flung them on the bed. “There,” she said. “I think those will suit you. +But first I must do your hair.” + +“Oh, but señorita, I cannot allow you to serve me.” + +“I’m not serving; I am only amusing myself.” She let down the wavy, +rich, brown hair which fell in thick masses over the girl’s shoulders. +Deftly she piled it up, giving it a tuck-in here, a pat there, then +she stood off to view the effect. “That is fine,” she pronounced. “Now, +on with these. I’ll hook you into them.” She slipped a soft trailing +silk over Perdita’s head, pulled it snugly together, touched it off +with a necklace and a pair of long gloves, which latter were a little +too large for herself, then after another dive into a box brought forth +a wide-brimmed Paris hat which she set upon the girl’s head. “Now +you’ll do,” she announced. “You look perfectly stunning. Come into +the other room and see. There is a long mirror there.” She ran ahead, +Perdita following as best she could with the long skirt to which she +was unaccustomed. + +“There,” cried Patty, as they stopped before the mirror, “look at +yourself and say that you are not as fine a lady as the best.” + +Perdita half ashamed, half pleased, could but realize that the vision +reflected in the glass was a charming one. The hat with graceful +drooping plumes was becoming as the gown and the whole effect was +beyond what she had ever dared to hope she could present. + +Their fun was suddenly broken in upon by Anita’s voice announcing, +“The señor Don Felipe, señorita.” A hot flush mounted to Perdita’s +cheek. There was no way of escape, for Don Felipe was already upon the +threshold. To Patty, however, the occasion presented only a further +incident in the little comedy. With dancing eyes she led the shrinking +Perdita forward. “_Buenas dias, señor_,” she said, “allow me to present +you to my friend the señorita Gonzalez.” + +Don Felipe made one step forward, “_Dios mio!_” he exclaimed as he took +in the charming figure from head to foot, then, bowing low, he said, +“at your feet, ladies.” But he did not tarry long, to Patty’s relief. +He had but stopped to leave a book for Don Juan, he explained. He must +go on. Yet all the time he remained, Patty caught him casting stealthy +glances at Perdita who, with eyes downcast, sat without saying a word. + +When the sound of horses’ hoofs was heard on the stones below, Patty +looked Perdita up and down smiling the while. “I believe you have made +a conquest, _cara mia_,” she said. “My faith, how fast he is galloping +off. I should think he would go slowly and would look back often. How +should you like to live in a _palacio_, Perdita, and eat from silver +dishes?” + +“Oh, señorita!” Perdita looked troubled. + +“It would be fine if he were to select you after all. He would dress +you up so grandly, and I should see you driving around in that great +coach.” + +“Oh, but señorita, Tomás--” + +[Illustration: “‘AT YOUR FEET, LADIES.’”] + +“To be sure, I am forgetting Tomás. Well he is an old man, is Don +Felipe, and perhaps he would not live long and then you would be a rich +widow who could marry whom you pleased.” + +Perdita looked shocked. Her simple mind could not grasp the wild +imaginings of the fly-away Patty. “_Ave Maria_,” she said, crossing +herself, “so proud a man as Don Felipe would never think of a peasant +like me. There is none so proud as Don Felipe, and they say it is +because of his pride that he has never married, that nothing but a +_marquesa_ or a _condessa_ at least would satisfy him.” + +“Oh, when men become as old as he, youth and beauty are far greater +attractions than position and wealth or family,” said Patty sagely. +“That might all have been true when he was young. He can buy all the +antiques he wants, but it isn’t every day so lovely a creature comes +his way.” + +“You mock me, señorita,” said Perdita, a little offended. + +“Indeed I do not, my dear; it is quite true. I could see how much he +was struck by your appearance. Why, he scarcely took his eyes off you, +and had none for me. Have you ever spoken to him before?” + +“No, señorita. Everyone knows Don Felipe, of course. So great a man as +he is always pointed out, but ah, it is fine feathers make fine birds, +and I am sure he did not recognize me in the peasant girl he has passed +many times on the road and to whom he has never given a glance. It +is known that he is so proud he will scarce turn his head when he is +riding along.” + +“Well he certainly should know you again, if looking can familiarize +one with a face, and unless I am mistaken, he will be asking me +questions about my beautiful friend, the señorita Gonzalez. No, don’t +take off the gown; I want you to wear it to _almuerzo_ with me. I +will dress up, too, and we will pretend that you are the señora Doña +Perdita Velasco de Gonzalez, while I am--let me see--nothing short of a +_condessa_ could breakfast with anyone so magnificent as you will be.” + +By this time Perdita had begun to see through Patty’s make-believes, +and entered into the spirit of the thing, and it must be confessed, +sometimes aping Patty’s airs and graces. At breakfast, however, she was +ill at ease, though taking to heart the object lessons Patty’s table +manners offered. One must not eat with a knife, she discovered, nor +wipe her mouth upon the back of her hand, and one must eat mincingly, +taking small pieces of bread instead of biting off large mouthfuls. +There was much to learn, Perdita perceived humbly, but she was grateful +for the opportunity of learning, whether the lesson was intended or not. + +“I wish Tomás could see you,” Patty remarked, as Perdita at last +declared she must again assume her own dress. “No, I don’t either, for +he would be crazier than ever and would spoil all your chances of +becoming Don Felipe’s bride.” + +“You always make the joke, señorita, yet I know now it is but a joke +which you mean, for you have promised to be the friend of Tomás and me.” + +“But I would be your friend just the same, for who knows how long you +may have to wait? You might have to wait less time to be a widow.” + +“Señorita!” + +“Never mind, Perdita. I suppose I do shock you. It is true I am only +joking. I will not play that way any more, for I really do not mean it. +My imagination flies away with me sometimes. I mean to be perfectly +loyal to you and Tomás in spite of Don Felipe or anyone else, so don’t +mind my nonsense. If you feel uncomfortable we will take off these fine +feathers, as you call them, I have no doubt you would rather wear what +you are accustomed to. Then we will have the French lesson.” + +The French lesson over, Perdita departed leaving Patty in the little +summer-house. Now and then an iris-necked pigeon would patter in, look +around inquiringly and patter out again, or a bird would twitter in the +branches over the door. “I am having a lovely, peaceful time,” sighed +Patty. “When Polly goes I suppose there will be plenty of such hours, +and I shall get deadly lonely. There will always be Perdita though, +when Tina hasn’t time to spare me. Perdita has much charm, and I do +not think it would be hard to fit her to be my sister’s sister-in-law. +Ah, here comes Tomás, the first to arrive. I shall have much to tell +him.” + +An hour later when the rest of the party returned, Patty and Tomás were +still sitting in the summer-house, and there Doña Martina found them, +but she did not frown, she only said, “Have you had a good day, Patty?” + +“A lovely day,” was the answer. “Don Felipe was here and you know that +made sunshine for all the hours.” + +“Absurd child,” said her sister, giving her a soft tap and looking at +Tomás as if to say, we understand. + +That night as Patty was ready for sleep her sister came in; Paulette in +the next room was already bound in slumbers, being tired out with the +day’s shopping. “Patty,” said her sister, sitting down on the bed by +her side, “we have had a long talk, Juan and I, about you and Tomás, +and dear, we do not want you to think we are so unsympathetic as will +make you withhold your confidence. We will do all we can. Of course +ever since that day in the summer-house when I saw him kiss you--” + +“Only my hand, Tina; that was nothing.” Patty lifted herself from the +pillows in protest. + +“Oh well, never mind, it was enough to show what you both felt, and +Juan says we can give up this house to you if you would rather live +here, though he thinks Tomás should do more, that he should not settle +down to this hum-drum existence, this village life. He is going to +see about sending him to South America or Mexico where he will have +opportunities. If he succeeds, why, then--But, oh my dear--” she leaned +over and took Patty in her arms, “it will be hard to give you up, to +send you off there, and I am selfish enough to wish for us all to stay +right here and live together. Yet if it will be for your happiness, I +shall be satisfied either way.” + +Then Patty burst into tears and wept on her sister’s shoulder. + +“I’m a horrid girl,” she wailed. “You don’t know how horrid. Please +don’t talk about anything now. I want only you.” And she clung to her +sister till the tears ceased, and with gentle good-nights they parted. + + + + + CHAPTER XIV + + THE SILVER MERCHANT + + +Don Juan, like his neighbor Don Felipe, was fond of collecting +antiques, a fact which had become known to the silver merchants who, +traveling through the country, collected old jewelry and silver for +which they gave the peasants in exchange less valuable but more modern +ornaments. In most cases the silver was melted up to be turned into +articles more in the mode, but many a pair of long earrings, many a +silver chain or reliquary found its way into Don Juan’s possession. For +these things there was always a sharp bargaining which the ladies of +the house enjoyed hugely, and they never failed to appear in Don Juan’s +study when the Gallegos, as the men usually were, were shown up. + +The day after the expedition to Llanes one of these silver merchants +arrived. At sight of the three ladies he began to display the contents +of his pack, the gewgaws for which he found a ready sale among the +peasants. “None of those,” said Don Juan with a contemptuous wave of +his hand. “The old pieces. Have you anything good at all?” + +The man with alacrity produced a medal which was passed around, Don +Juan making such depreciating remarks as, “Worth nothing at all. Badly +worn. You see there is a piece chipped out.” At last he handed it back. + +“But señor, it is very old,” the man spread out his hands. + +“I doubt it.” + +“Oh, but señor, that it is worn but shows the age. It is surely worth +something.” + +“A _peseta_, no more. You see for yourself the nick in it.” + +“Very well, if you buy something else I will let you have it.” + +“Lay it aside then; we will see.” + +A pair of earrings were next produced; they were of a fine filigree +pattern which is now rare. + +“Beautiful,” whispered Patty. + +Her sister threw her a warning glance. + +Don Juan turned the earrings over with a contemptuous “Humph!” He had +heard the whisper. “I don’t suppose anyone cares for these, but perhaps +the ladies would like to look at them as a matter of curiosity,” and +he handed them over to Patty to examine while the Gallego rummaged +his odds and ends for an old cross which he presently brought out. +Meanwhile Patty had set her heart on the earrings to give to Perdita, +remembering that she had expressed a wish for such a pair to wear with +her Asturian dress, so she scribbled on a piece of paper, “If these are +not too much I would like to buy them.” This she handed back with the +ornaments. + +Don Juan nodded understandingly and began to examine the earrings with +an indifferent expression. “They have been mended,” he remarked after a +moment. “They are not in good condition and could not be worn as they +are.” + +“Oh, but señor,” came the protest, “they are much more beautiful than a +pair I sold to Don Felipe the last time I came through, and for which +he paid me more than I am asking for these.” + +“That may be, but probably the others were in better condition. +However, I will give you,” he named a sum which the man finally +accepted after some parley, and Patty became the possessor of the +prize. The bartering went on for an hour or more and when the Gallego +at last packed up his load Don Juan had added several valuable articles +to his collection. They had cost the silver merchant next to nothing +and he had made a profit in the transaction. + +When the man went below, at Doña Martina’s request Patty ordered the +maids to give him a glass of wine before he left. Don Juan drew a long +sigh as the merchant disappeared. He enjoyed these bouts but they kept +him so keyed up that he was tired after they were over. + +“It is as good as a play,” said Patty when she returned to the room. “I +could never in the world be so keen as Juan is. Won’t Perdita look fine +in these at the next _fiesta_? She has long wanted such a pair.” + +“Perdita? Did you get them for her?” asked Doña Martina. + +“Yes, she is continually bringing me flowers and fruit, and I want to +give her something in return.” + +“You give her French lessons.” + +“And she gives me Spanish. We are quits there. I do like Perdita. She +was with me for a long time yesterday.” + +“So Manuela told me. I don’t know that it was wise, Patty, for you to +invite her to sit at table like an equal.” + +“She is an equal. I wish I were half as good and beautiful. I dressed +her up in some of my clothes and I wish you could have seen what a +dream of beauty she was.” + +“What a child you are, Patty. I wonder what the maids thought. I am +afraid it will put notions into their heads. They will be expecting the +same treatment next.” + +“Oh, but imagine comparing Manuela to Perdita. One is a dray horse, the +other a racer.” + +Doña Martina smiled. “There spoke your Kentucky influences. Of course +we all know Perdita is a very superior girl and a very pretty one, but +you must not treat her so that she will become discontented with her +station. She is a peasant, a worker in the fields, and must always be +so. This is not democratic America, Patty.” + +“Oh, but Perdita does come of good family some generations back; she +has told me so. Have you ever noticed what pretty hands and feet she +has? Her hands are hard and rough, but so well-shaped and not much +larger than mine. Oh, no, Perdita is not made of common clay. To tell +you the truth,” she looked after Paulette who was leaving the room. +“I’ve no doubt but she comes of much better stock than Polly, yet +because Polly has money and dresses well, we accept her.” + +“That may all be true, but the fact remains that you must not unsettle +Perdita and make her unhappy. There is no way to alter her lot and why +try to breed discontent?” + +“Maybe that is the proper way to look at it, but suppose Perdita did +have money, suppose in some way she inherited it, must she always be +kept a peasant?” + +“Perhaps not. She might marry someone of these Americanos, and return +to America with him where she would probably rise to a different walk +of life. There have even been nobles who have married peasants, but +as our old mammy used to say, ‘dey has money but dey hasn’t anything +else,’ and everyone knows it. So, pray be careful, Patty. I haven’t +the least objection to Perdita’s coming here every day, but don’t +dress her up and ask her to breakfast with you. I see no harm in the +earrings, for they are a part of the dress she wears to _fiestas_ and +are perfectly proper.” + +Patty bore the earrings away and laid them on a table in her room. +She would give them to Perdita when she next came. She was not a very +happy Patty this day. Her sister’s sweetness of the night before had +quite disarmed her and she had avoided Tomás all morning. What seemed +at first an innocent deception was assuming the proportions of an +intrigue. In the romantic consideration of the love affair she had lost +sight of her sister’s interest in herself and of what was due to a +guardian care. “Dear me,” she sighed, “it was much easier getting along +at the convent. There were no complications there. We did as we were +told and that was the end of it. I suppose I had no business meddling +and I am now receiving the fate of all busybodies. Yet, how was I to +know? and--oh dear, I am half inclined to run away from it all and go +back to the sisters. There are never any love affairs there to tie one +up into hard knots, but here I have put myself in a hole, and as the +Spaniards say, _no hay remedia_.” + +She left the garden where she had been walking and went up in to the +great room which was at once _sala_ and living-room. Here the family +gathered for all sorts of tasks. If one wished to sew or read, the +light was good by the far windows from which one could watch the cloud +shadows creep over the mountains, and could see the red-tiled roofs of +little white houses in the valley. If one wanted to look out on the +_carretera_ the front windows were best for they afforded not only a +view of the road, but of the village. The south side overlooked the +garden and the north was turned toward the chapel. At the north window +Patty saw Tomás standing, a huge apron covering him from head to heels +and on a large table before him several wooden figures of saints. Just +now Tomás was engaged in painting a blue robe on a Madonna. He had +already given her yellow hair and a red mantle so that she was a most +brilliant figure. The young man stood off to observe the effect of his +work as Patty came forward. “What _are_ you doing, Tomás?” asked she. + +“Giving these saints some new clothing. You see how faded and battered +they are.” He pointed with his brush to the dingy group collected on +one end of the table. + +“But where did they come from? Not from our little chapel? I should +hate to see the dingy little saints in there done up in this florid +style.” + +“Oh, no, Juan would never permit that. These came from the mountains. +You remember I told you I had promised Father Ignacio to make them +fresh and bright, and now he is anxious that they should be ready for +the _fiesta_ which occurs very soon. He sent them down yesterday.” + +“That is Perdita’s _cura_, is it not?” + +“Yes.” + +“And who are these?” Patty went over and touched one of the queer +figures. + +“That is San Pablo, the next is San Pedro and the third San Jose.” + +“If you make them all as gloriously brilliant as this Madonna they +certainly will brighten up the _fiesta_.” + +“The peasants like them that way. They will be delighted and will think +me a great artist, but for myself I prefer the old dim colors.” + +“And I.” She stood watching the process of restoring the Madonna’s +faded raiment until Doña Martina came in with a letter in her hand. +“Maybe you would like to see this, Patty,” she said. “It is from Robert +Lisle. I was wondering why we hadn’t heard from him. It is only a +polite little note, but explains his failure to write.” + +Patty took the letter mechanically. It was, as her sister had said, +only a polite little note saying that he had been to an isolated mining +district from which he had found it difficult to send anything by post. +He had returned to Santander and hoped to see them all again before he +left the country. Patty refolded the letter and handed it back without +comment. “I wonder,” she said to herself, “if he found a chance +to send a letter to Miss Moffatt. I haven’t a doubt but that was a +different matter.” She went over to the front window which looked down +on the _patio_. Her sister seated herself by her work table and took up +some sewing. “There were some letters for Paulette, too,” she remarked. + +“And none for me?” inquired Patty. + +“None. Juan’s budget was the largest.” + +“Where is Polly?” + +“I fancy she is attending to her correspondence. She seemed quite +excited over it.” + +Patty looked out upon the _carretera_. The pigeons had taken shelter +under the eaves; the stones of the _patio_ were quite wet. “It is +raining,” she remarked. “I see the people going along on their +_madreños_. What funny things they are. Would one say they had two +heels when one is under the ball of the foot? Wooden shoes with high +heels wouldn’t describe them exactly. They make a noise like sabots, +but they are better for rainy weather for they keep the feet more out +of the wet. Heigho! It is rather dismal when it rains, isn’t it?” + +“I quite enjoy a rainy day once in a while,” responded Doña Martina. +“It gives one such a good chance to do up odds and ends. Where are you +going?” for Patty crossed the room and opened a door at the other end. + +“I am going to the chapel to compare our saints with those Tomás +is renovating. I want to see if I can discover their identity by a +similarity of expression.” + +She passed out and along the narrow covered way which led to the +chapel, then down a flight of steps into the silent, chill little +place. It was rarely used now except in the event of a funeral, or when +one of the maids stole in to drop on her knees before the pallid Virgin +who stood in her tarnished shrine, faintly smiling into the empty +somber spaces before her. Patty stood for a moment, then walked slowly +around looking at the figures each side the altar. That must be San +Roque; he could be recognized by the little dog with him; and that was +St. Anthony next. On the other side she identified St. Joseph and St. +John. Then she went back into the chapel and sat down. How many dead +and gone Estradas had worshiped here, and how curious it seemed that +foreigners should now make their home under the roof of those who once +held sway. She remembered the blackened portraits in the house, men +with pointed beards and ruffs, women with huge petticoats and strange +coiffures. And to think that Spain was in its glory when America was +yet a wilderness, when the Kentucky forests were full of savages. +Now,--oh the smiling garden, the little mother in the white shawl, +the bees among the blossoms! There was a sound in the house of a door +closing. On the roof the rain pattered. Afar off a bell was ringing. +The sounds saddened her. She sank on her knees, resting her head on her +clasped hands. For a long time she knelt there, not praying, but filled +with an uncertain longing for which there seemed no cure. Something +had made her unhappy. It was not altogether the affair of Tomás and +Perdita. What was it? “I suppose I am homesick and want my mother,” she +said, with a sad little smile as she arose. “I am afraid Perdita will +not come to-day,” she told herself as she passed along the corridor +and back into the room where Tomás was still painting. The Virgin, now +gorgeously arrayed, her blue robe bedecked with golden stars, was set +aside and St. Paul was undergoing a cleansing process. + +Patty paused for a moment. “I found St. Anthony, San Roque, San Jose, +and San Juan,” she said, “but I must say that San Jose must have had a +very changeable countenance; he doesn’t look a bit like this one.” + +“Patty,” her sister called, “I’ve something for you. Our shopping from +Llanes has just arrived. See how you like this,” and she flung a lace +mantilla over the girl’s head. + +“Just what I wanted,” declared Patty. “You are a dear thing to get it +for me. Thank you so much. I did want a real Spanish one, and this is a +beauty. I must go show it to Polly.” + +Paulette had just finished her letters and was trying on a new shawl +she had bought. “Show me how to wear it,” she said as Patty came in; +“the way we did at the _fiesta_.” + +Patty draped it around the little figure. “I, too, have something +Spanish,” she said, displaying her mantilla. + +“Ah, I have seen that before,” Paulette told her. “I have some news for +you, somesing which will surprise you.” + +“Wait till I have laid this away,” said Patty, darting from the +room. She ran into her own chamber, laid the mantilla on the table +and returned. “I have such a habit of leaving my things in here,” +she explained, “that I wanted to be sure this time I would not be +disturbing your orderliness by my forgetfulness. Did you have good +letters, Polly? Was there anything from the sisters?” + +“No, but from my guardian a most important letter. What will you say, +Patty, when I tell you he wishes to make for me an excellent marriage +to the son of a friend of his?” + +“Oh! But what about Don Felipe?” Patty asked after a moment’s silence. + +“I have come to the conclusion that he is not to be depended upon. You +will recall that he has not been here for days.” + +“He was here yesterday.” + +“You say it was but to make a short call, to bring somesing to Don +Juan.” + +“He might have stayed longer if you had been here.” + +Paulette gave a little shrug of her shoulders. “Might have stayed. I +want no might haves. Why waste one’s time on an uncertain old man, a +foreigner at that, when here is a young man ready?” + +“But have you seen him? Can you tell whether you would like him?” + +“My uncle describes him. I do not think I shall be disappointed. But, +my dear, you see the importance of my appearing soon, so I must leave +you to go to Poitiers at once.” + +“I like Poitiers,” said Patty reminiscently. “The people there look +good and honest, so I hope your _parti_ will be as desirable as he +ought. We shall be sorry to part from you. When must you go?” + +“This week. My uncle meets me at Bordeaux, from thence we go to +Poitiers where he lives.” + +This affair of Paulette’s was such a new matter of interest, that the +two sat together discussing it till Perdita was announced. + +“Take her to my room, Anita,” Patty ordered. “I will be there +directly. It is too wet to sit out in the summer-house, tell Perdita.” + +Anita obeyed and Patty found Perdita standing by the window when she +went in. Paulette’s affairs were more absorbing than the French lesson +that day, and it must be confessed it was cut short. The earrings, too, +were forgotten and when Patty did remember them they were not to be +found. She called the maid, “Anita, did you see anything of a pair of +earrings when you made up my room?” she asked. + +“No, señorita.” + +“I laid them just here,” she indicated a corner of the table. “We must +find them.” A search was made, but no earrings were discovered, to +Anita’s distress. + +“Who else has been in the room?” inquired Patty. + +“Only Perdita, señorita.” + +“Perdita? Oh, yes, I remember. Very well, we shall see. Perhaps I am +mistaken, Anita, and have put them somewhere else, after all.” But all +searching was of no avail and Patty was sorely troubled. To suspect +Perdita was impossible; to suspect Anita was almost as bad. But in the +flurry of Paulette’s departure the incident was forgotten and it was +days before the question came up again. + + + + + CHAPTER XV + + THE LONELY HILL + + +With Paulette gone, Don Felipe only a casual caller, and Tomás +engrossed in his own love affair, Patty felt lonelier than she had +believed she could. Doña Martina was often busy and just now a +little anxious about her husband who had rather overstepped the mark +in working too constantly on the book he was preparing for print, +therefore Patty was left a great deal to herself. For the past two or +three days she had seen nothing of Perdita. Tomás was absent, as well, +having gone to Oviedo on a business trip for his brother, and the girl +resorted to long rides in the little donkey-cart as her best means of +amusement. + +One afternoon she started forth, her mind set upon a certain point from +which there was a fine view of sea and mountains. That morning had +brought a letter from Paulette, a complacent sort of epistle which had +somehow irritated Patty. Mlle. Delambre had met Mons. Adolph Busson. +They were mutually pleased. The betrothal had taken place and the +marriage would be a little later. She hoped her dear friend, Patty, +would be present at the wedding, unless superior attractions detained +her in Spain. She wished so good an arrangement as hers might be made +for her friend, yet it was only in France that these matters could be +properly managed. She hoped American methods would not lead to her +Patty’s remaining an old maid; that would be so unfortunate. How was +the sly Tomás? and what of that other one, the Englishman, who had +seemed so attentive for the moment? As for the old don, he was far too +antiquated even for Patty. + +“I’d like to know what the ‘even for Patty’ means,” meditated the +girl, her thoughts on the letter as she took her place in the little +cart. She remembered the day when Paulette had announced this possible +arrangement of affairs and the train of thought carried her to the +earrings which she had not remembered. Where had they gone? She could +accuse Perdita, but perhaps she had seen them that day and could +tell her, if they were really where Patty believed she had put them. +Perhaps, after all, it would be better to hunt up Perdita and see if +anything were wrong with her since she had not been to the house for +several days. She might be ill, or her grandmother. + +Guido’s head was therefore turned in the direction of the little farm, +and before the low white house Patty halted. There was no sign of life +except from the chickens picking around, and to the girl’s knock +there was no reply. There was then nothing to do but to turn the cart +around again and go in the direction she had first decided upon. This +led toward the sea, though not along the road she generally used, but +rather one further from the village with the mountains on the left. It +was a tortuous way and a rough one. So steep at last did it become that +Patty decided to leave the cart and try the rest of the ascent on foot. +“If it were not for the cart, Guido,” she said, “I would let you go, +too, for you can climb these hills and pick your way better than I. You +are a good little _burro_, Guido, and I have not been disappointed in +you. After all, you are much less disappointing than some human beings +who profess a great deal and then--I wonder if he thought that by the +gift of you he was simply making a graceful return for hospitality--not +that you can be called graceful, Guido; far from it--At all events I’d +like to know if it were that, or if he did it merely because he felt +sorry for you, or whether it were another reason. Oh, me, there is no +use wondering. This is a very lonely hill and I don’t know why I came +to it, except that I am rather hugging my loneliness these days. I +suppose Juan and Tina would be horrified to know I came here by myself, +and I must confess, it was rather a venturesome thing to do. Guido, I +will tie you so you can get at the grass and things, for now that I +have come this far I may as well go on.” + +She left the little gray beast safely tethered and started off up the +steep path. It was seldom used and at times almost lost itself in +thickets of brakes and briars. There was a low stone wall to climb +then at last the height was reached, and Patty, panting a little, +looked around her. A blue crescent of sea lay in front of her; behind +her the circle of the horizon was completed by the mountains. “What a +view!” the girl exclaimed. “It was worth the climb.” Her eye roved over +distant objects, clusters of houses forming small pueblos, half a dozen +groups or more, nearer houses isolated from the rest, and nearer still +the masses of grass and brambles with here and there a blossom dotting +the green. + +Suddenly her eye lighted on a figure lying face down in the high grass, +a girl in peasant dress. Was she asleep? and what was she doing here +so far from house or road? Perhaps she was ill or hurt. Moving nearer +Patty stopped as she noticed a slight movement of the figure. The +crackling of the bushes as Patty made her way through caused the girl +to raise her head, showing a face tear-stained and wet-eyed. + +“Perdita!” cried Patty. “It is you? What is the matter?” + +“Oh, señorita,” Perdita sat up, “I have a sad heart.” + +“And why?” Patty made a place by Perdita’s side. “Tell me all about +it. You are not grieving because Tomás has gone away, are you? He will +be back in a few days. Did you think he was going to stay?” + +“Oh, no, señorita, it is not that. It is I who am going away to stay.” + +“You? Why, where are you going?” + +“Into a convent, señorita.” + +“Not to stay?” Patty was aghast. It seemed a tragedy to her to shut up +this young creature behind convent walls. “You are not going to become +a nun?” + +“No, señorita, but I am to be gone two years and it seems forever.” + +“Oh, but it will soon pass. I was two years in a convent and as I look +back it does not seem long. But, Perdita, why are you going? Is it your +grandmother who sends you?” + +“It was my grandmother who told me I was to go. I am to go to get an +education, to become more of a lady.” + +“Oh, now that is not to be wept over. Why, the other day you were +longing for such advantages.” + +Perdita made no answer except to draw a long sigh. + +“Is it because of Tomás? Does your grandmother know?” Patty still plied +her with questions. + +“No, I do not think it is that. If my grandmother knows she has not +said so. She said, ‘some one wishes you to go to a convent for two +years; at the end of that time we shall see what we shall see.’” + +“Oh, Perdita, it must be just as we hoped, and your father is coming +back after having made a fortune. Are you not glad? Shall you not be +happy to see him?” + +“Maybe, though you know, señorita, he is but a stranger to me, and what +if he should want to separate me from Tomás, or what if while I am +away, some other should take his fancy and I should return to find no +Tomás for me? It would break my heart, señorita. I should die.” + +“That is showing very little faith in Tomás. I do not believe he is +the inconstant sort for there was Paulette and here was--” she stopped +short. + +“Yourself. Yes. I know, and if he did not love anyone so dear and +lovely as you I should have more faith, but I cannot help my fears. +Can anyone who loves as I do? If you had a lover, señorita, would you +not fear to leave him for two years, to know that in all that time you +could not write to him nor hear from him?” + +“But can you not see him?” + +“No, my grandmother says I am not to leave the convent. She cannot even +come to see me herself, and that is a great sacrifice for her to make, +she says.” + +“But what will she do without you?” + +“Someone is to come to take charge of the farm and to look after my +grandmother. I do not like that, either, señorita. I do not like +to think of others attending to my animals, to count my sheep, my +chickens. I do not want to go away from my own _pueblo_. I want to be +as free as I am to-day.” She stretched her arms wide and raised her +face to the skies. “That is why I came here,” she went on, “because it +is so large and free up here and one can see the whole world.” + +“Yes, I understand that feeling,” murmured Patty. + +“Then, too, there is another thing,” Perdita continued. “Tomás was +telling me that his brother has spoken of sending him to America. What +if he goes and never comes back?” + +“Yes, I know there has been some talk of it,” said Patty, thoughtfully. +She remembered that it was to further Tomás’s success and enable him +to marry that his brother had proposed the going to America. Alas, she +was the cause of much trouble. “How soon do you go to the convent, +Perdita?” she asked presently. + +“Next month, señorita. I am to go to Llanes first and there I am to +lay aside my peasant dress and be clothed as others are at the convent +school.” + +“And when you come away I have no doubt you will have pretty frocks +like that you put on the other day and you will be very fine, Perdita, +so that my sister and brother can have no objection to your becoming +one of the family. It will really do much to make the future clear for +you and Tomás.” + +Perdita shook her head sadly. The two years seemed a lifetime in her +young eyes and this parting from her lover the end of all things. + +“I shall miss you,” said Patty, after a moment. “Everyone is leaving, +it seems, and I shall be very lonely. I had a little present for you, +Perdita, but it has been lost.” Then she told of what had happened, +Perdita assuring her that she had not noticed the earrings upon the +table. + +“Oh, señorita, I will pray San Antonio for you,” she said, “and if you +would take a figure of the saint and hang it down the well I am sure he +would send back the earrings.” + +Patty laughed outright, starting up some birds from the underbrush. + +Perdita crossed herself. “Oh, but señorita, it is so, I have known it +to happen.” + +“Then I will get St. Anthony from the chapel and try it,” said Patty, +the amusement still in her eyes. “Come, Perdita, don’t be so downcast. +Why, I think your prospects are fine. So long as I am here I will keep +a sharp eye on Tomás and if I see him casting sheep’s eyes--how do you +call it?--_mirada al soslayo_, is that it? Oh, yes; very well, I will +go at him with a vengeance. I don’t know how to say that exactly--_con +venganza_, you understand?” + +Perdita did and smiled faintly. It was something to leave behind her +such a champion of her rights. + +“Now,” said Patty, getting up. “I will take you as far as your turning +off. Don’t be unhappy, Perdita. I will attend to St. Anthony and if +there is any other one I can tackle who will make Master Tomás keep to +his colors, I’ll attend to him, too.” She said this last in English, +but the name of Tomás sounded encouraging and Perdita felt more +comfortable. + +“Was it because of all this you have been staying away?” Patty +inquired, when they had started Guido on his homeward way. + +“Yes, señorita. I was so troubled that I did not want anyone to see, +and I knew I could not remember my lesson or think of anything as I +should.” + +“But you must not give up coming now that the time is so short, for +even if we have no French we can converse in Spanish. I have learned +much Spanish, have I not?” + +“Yes, señorita; it is wonderful how in three months you have learned to +speak so well.” + +“I have worked very hard and have taken advantage of speaking whenever +I could. One learns very fast in doing that. Is it three months?” + +“Very nearly, señorita. It was at the feast of San Juan you saw me +first and soon it will be the feast of San Matea, so that I know.” + +They passed out of the lonely by-road to the _carretera_, and jogged +along to where Perdita must take the path home. Just as they reached +this point Don Felipe came riding by in the opposite direction. He +stopped a moment, doffed his hat, gave the two girls a sharp scrutiny +and rode on. A little later he overtook Patty. She was alone and was +driving Guido leisurely toward home. Don Felipe slackened his pace. +“Good evening, señorita,” he said, “so your companion has left you.” + +“Yes, señor, she has gone to her home. She is a beautiful girl, is she +not?” + +“Very beautiful.” + +“Did you recognize her that day when I presented her as the Señorita +Gonzalez?” + +“Not at once, for I do not notice peasants as a rule, then I +recollected having seen her, or someone like her.” + +“I don’t think Perdita should exactly be classed among the peasants.” + +“Why so?” + +“She is so gentle and good, so like a lady and with a very bright mind.” + +“So I have been told.” + +“She would grace any position in life with the proper education. She is +very quick to learn.” + +“Do you say so? Rather surprising in one of her class, isn’t it?” + +“Perhaps, but you know she comes of good stock, of an old family which +has deteriorated. I have been giving her French lessons and I have +had an opportunity to observe her quickness. It seems she is to have +a chance now, for she is going into a convent school. Her father, I +believe, is sending her.” + +“Her father? So she has one.” + +“Yes, it seems she has, and she thinks he is in America and will return +after a while.” + +“Ah, she is fortunate in having someone who is not a mere tiller of the +soil. So you think she will do him credit?” + +“She would do anyone credit. I am much interested in her, and hope I +may always keep her as a friend.” + +“She certainly is most beautiful,” said the old don, musingly. “Here is +your gate, señorita. I will come in, if you will permit. I should like +a word with your good sister.” + +He entered the house as Patty, driving around to the side, saw Guido +was handed over to the men at the stables. Don Felipe was in earnest +conversation with her sister when she returned. “Come over, Patty,” +Doña Martina invited her, “and give us your opinion on a most important +subject.” + +“Yes, señorita, I beg of you.” Don Felipe arose and handed her a +chair. “There is no one whose opinion is of more importance to me. I +am thinking of making a few alterations and repairs to my old house +which you have honored with your presence. I am also thinking of +refurnishing and decorating some of the rooms. This will come later, +for I shall make haste slowly, yet I should like your ideas on the +subject. Which rooms, in your estimation, would a lady prefer for her +apartments?” + +“Oh, I should think those looking over toward the garden and the +mountains.” + +Don Felipe nodded. “And not those on the front?” + +“No, one gets tired of droves of oxen and cow-carts passing on the +_carretera_, whereas the mountains are ever changing and the birds come +and go among the flowers in the garden so that one has always something +pleasant to look at.” + +“Then those rooms without question.” + +“Unless the lady cares for none of those things.” + +“I think her taste would be much like yours. Later on I shall ask your +valuable suggestions in the matter of furnishing. I have a lot of old +stuff, but--” + +“Oh, do use all you can of it, for it is so much better suited to that +fine old place than any modern things could be, or, if you must get +new, let it be as little as possible.” + +“Your taste is excellent, señorita, but do not young ladies generally +prefer something brighter and lighter, more in keeping with their +charming selves?” + +“Those qualities can be considered in the frescoes and the draperies.” + +“Oh, I see. When it comes to that point I shall, if I may, ask your +invaluable aid in selecting the proper stuffs. Your sister tells me +that Mlle. Delambre, is fiancée to a young Frenchman.” + +“Yes, and quite happy.” + +“She is rather an attractive girl, but there are others far more so. I +prefer a dark type of beauty myself.” + +Patty glanced at her sister whose face was a study. Then Don Juan +entered and the talk fell upon the respective values of certain +antiques, and the two ladies left the men in the heart of an animated +discussion. + +“What do you suppose he is going to do?” Patty asked her sister when +they were safe outside. + +“You goose, he is thinking of marrying, of course.” + +“But whom is he going to marry?” + +Her sister laughed. “I should think it pretty evident whom he had in +mind.” + +Patty looked puzzled and ran over the conversation. “You surely don’t +mean me?” she said, after a pause. + +“Who else?” + +“I am sure I don’t know, but oh, dear, after the way I have snubbed +him, he must be an idiot to think I can be picked out and carried home +like a door-knocker or an antique plate.” + +“It is his conceit, my dear, which makes him think he can do just that +thing. When he is all ready he imagines all he will have to do will +be to call upon your proper guardians, present his request in proper +form and forthwith it will be granted with an appropriate degree of +gratitude for the honor. You must remember that he is a blue-blood +hidalgo, and that a simple little American girl like yourself could not +think of refusing him.” + +“Then just let him go ahead and find out, the old silly thing. I hope +you will encourage him to spend all he will upon the house; it needs +it, heaven knows. I shall do my best to egg him on, and then see how +beautifully he will get fooled.” + +“You are really in a temper about it.” + +“Of course I am.” + +“But fancy what a triumph to write to Paulette and announce that you +are to marry him. She was ready enough to become mistress of that old +_palacio_, for all she pretended the master was too old. I saw things, +my dear, and I know.” + +Patty laughed. “You are actually scheming, yourself, but no Auld Robin +Grey for me, if you please.” + +“You know I didn’t mean it, Patty. Of course, I couldn’t when there +is--Tomás.” + +“Oh, yes,” Patty’s face clouded, “there is Tomás.” + +“What has happened, Patty, child? I have noticed that you avoid him of +late. Have you quarreled?” + +“No, but--” + +“You feel conscious, dear child. Of course since you are aware that +we know how matters stand, I can appreciate how you might feel. Never +mind, Juan is doing his best to settle Tomás’s future and when all is +arranged you can be regularly engaged, Don Felipe or no Don Felipe.” + +Patty put her arms around her sister. “Tina, you are a perfect darling, +and I am an ungrateful wretch. There is time enough to think about my +affairs, for I am ‘ower young to marry.’ I shall want my freedom for +years to come.” + +“You are likely to have it,” returned her sister, gravely, “if Tomás +goes to seek his fortune in Mexico.” + +Patty made no reply but her thoughts flew back to the lonely hill and +the girl lying prone on her face in the long grass. + + + + + CHAPTER XVI + + BY REASON OF SAINT ANTHONY + + +Remembering the next morning her laughing promise to Perdita that she +would make use of St. Anthony’s powers in trying to find the lost +earrings, Patty went to the dim little chapel in order to abstract the +figure of the saint. She was still child enough to enjoy the prospect +of dangling the image down the well, with no feeling of irreverence +in doing so. “If these people think it all right, why shouldn’t I?” +she asked herself. As she opened the door leading into the chapel she +observed two faintly gleaming candles at the side of the altar and +going forward she perceived that they were burning before the figure of +St. Anthony himself. + +“Now, who has put those up there?” she exclaimed. “I suppose whoever +it is, he or she will be distressed if I take the old fellow away. +Besides, he looks so comfortable and complacent standing there I’d +better not disturb him. The candles have done at least this much good; +they have saved him from a dousing.” + +She went out the smaller door, up the long flight of steps and into the +upper room where her sister was sitting knitting her brows over her +weekly accounts. + +“There is something wrong here,” said Doña Martina, looking up. “Patty, +just run over these figures and see if you can find any mistake in it. +I am sure with no one at home but Juan and ourselves there should be +less spent than when the family was larger, yet it is just the same +amount.” + +Patty took the book and added up the column. “I make it exactly the +same as you do,” she announced the result. + +“Then I am sure I have made no mistake. I wish you would go down and +ask Manuela to come here to me.” + +Patty did as she was requested and stayed below to watch her favorite +pair of pigeons, Alphonso and Victoria, and to stick red geraniums over +the ears of Ba-Ba the pet lamb which had been Perdita’s gift on the +day of San Juan. Ba-Ba, tethered out of reach of the choicest flowers, +was nibbling at such delectable morsels as he could find, but upon +seeing Patty set up a plaintive bleat, knowing he might be set free if +Patty were at hand. His hopes were not without foundation, for the girl +unfastened the rope which held him and he capered off with a fling up +of his heels that showed his joy. + +“Now behave yourself, or I will tie you up again,” Patty warned him. +“Doña Martina doesn’t allow any liberties taken with her flowers, +remember. I suppose I shall have to watch you.” She sat down on an old +stone bench from which she could watch the lamb’s movements. Presently +Anita came out with something hidden under her apron. She started at +sight of Patty, and went back. + +“Now what did she do that for,” said Patty to herself. “She looked +scared at sight of me. I must go in and find out. Come here, Ba-Ba.” +But there was no “come here” comprehended by Ba-Ba. He had his freedom +and meant to make the most of it. So he led Patty a chase around the +garden, dodging under bushes, squeezing through shrubbery, kicking up +his heels and prancing off with tail straight out, and a shake of his +head which said, “Catch me if you can.” But at last Patty managed to +outwit him and dragged him back to his corner, where he was again made +fast and allowed but a small area for pasture. + +As Patty entered the kitchen, flushed from her exercise, Anita did not +stir from her work of preparing vegetables, but kept her eyes cast +down. Manuela was still upstairs. “What is the matter, Anita?” Patty +asked, after watching the girl for a moment or two. + +“Nothing, señorita.” + +“Oh, but there is. What did you have under your apron when you came +into the garden just now, and why did you run back in such haste?” + +The color came into Anita’s face. “Why, señorita, I--I was just going +to the chapel for a moment.” + +“Is the outer door unlocked then? I thought one could get in only by +the upper door.” + +“It is unlocked, yes, señorita.” + +“Then, perhaps--” she stopped to think, “perhaps it was you who set the +candles before St. Anthony.” + +Anita dropped into the pan of vegetables the knife she was holding and +began to cry. “Oh, señorita,” she complained. + +“Have you lost something?” + +“Oh, señorita, you know.” + +“I am sure I don’t know, and if you wanted to set the candles there I +don’t see why you should not.” + +“Yes, señorita, I know, but the earrings--those which you lost.” + +“I see. And you thought we might believe you took them, so you are +burning candles to St. Anthony that they may be restored?” + +“Yes, señorita.” + +At this juncture Manuela came in. “Anita, the señora wants you. What +are you crying for?” + +Anita did not reply, but set down the pan and prepared to go upstairs. + +“She may well weep,” said Manuela, severely. “One cannot buy candles +without money.” + +“What do you mean, Manuela?” inquired Patty. “I know Anita has been +burning candles to St. Anthony because she thinks we suspect her of +taking the earrings. Of course I know they have not been found, and we +cannot see how they could be spirited away, but we have not charged +anyone.” + +“The _huestas_, señorita, or the gipsies. An evil eye have the gipsies +and who knows? Who knows? If they bewitch a thing, _no hay remedia_, +yet I do not say they may not be found, those earrings. Once I lost +a brooch which my mother had given me. I searched for a month in +great trouble, and one day when I was going to church, as I took up +my mantilla, behold the brooch had caught in the lace and had been +there all the time. I told the _padre_ and he said it was a righteous +punishment. If I had gone at once to church to pray to St. Anthony I +would have probably taken out my mantilla and so have discovered the +brooch. I deserved to worry,” he said. + +This gave Patty an idea and she hurried to her room, took her mantilla +from the drawer where she had placed it the day her sister gave it to +her, and shook it out. Sure enough from it dropped one of the earrings. +The other was found clinging to the lace threads by reason of the open +filigree. Gathering all up Patty ran into the living-room where Anita, +bowed before Doña Martina, was sobbing out a confession. + +“And so, when you went to market each time you took a little of my +money to buy candles to burn to St. Anthony,” Doña Martina was saying. + +“Yes, señora. I had to give all my wages to my family, and I had no +money. The candles had to be bought. What could I do?” + +“But, girl, don’t you see that it was stealing, and that it was worse +to take a thing than to be suspected when you were innocent?” + +“I had to get the candles and there was no other way,” repeated Anita, +through her tears. + +“The earrings are found,” announced Patty, holding them up. “They +had caught in the lace of my mantilla, and when I put that away the +earrings went, too. They were lying on the same table, you remember.” + +“Oh, señora! Señorita!” Anita sprang to her feet and smiled through her +tears. “So you see St. Anthony did find them, and it must have been +because of the candles. Oh, I am so glad.” + +“But Anita, that doesn’t lessen the fact that you took my money,” +expostulated Doña Martina. + +“But it was only for the candles, señora, and you see for yourself that +St. Anthony--” + +Doña Martina stopped her with a wave of the hand and turned to her +sister. “It is impossible to make her understand,” she said. “You may +go down, Anita, but if ever again you are guilty of taking even so much +as a penny of what is not yours, I shall dismiss you at once, St. +Anthony or Saint anybody else.” + +“But he did find them,” murmured Anita, as she cheerfully went back to +her work. + +“There is no use trying to teach them a proper standard in matters of +this kind,” said Doña Martina, “and I suppose the girl is honest enough +in other directions. She was greatly distressed over the possibility +of being suspected and Manuela told me of the candles and of herself +wondering where Anita got the money for them. So long as the earrings +are found I suppose even Manuela will see no wrong in what Anita did. I +am glad they are not lost, Patty, and that you discovered them in this +special way; it makes us all more comfortable.” + +“I shall not allow them to be neighbors to any more lacey things,” +declared Patty. “I will put them in a box and give them to Perdita as +soon as I can. Still working over the accounts, Tina?” + +Her sister sighed. “Yes, I must keep down expenses, for small as they +really are, I must try to save all I can for emergencies.” + +“Poor darling.” Patty laid her cheek against her sister’s hair. “And +if I should accept the renovated _palacio_ you would be free of me at +least.” + +“Don’t talk so,” returned her sister, sharply. “As if I could be happy +for a moment knowing you had sacrificed yourself. It isn’t as bad as +that, Patty. There is quite enough for us all, and we should keep up +this house just the same whether you were here or not. Surely when you +make no demands upon anyone in other directions you should not feel +under any obligation.” + +“I suppose I should not, only I hate to see you worried. If we sell the +old home, Tina, will there be more?” + +“Very likely not, unless we could invest it so that the interest would +bring in more than the rent does now. You need not think of that, dear. +We are really living on much less than we could anywhere else, only I +am ambitious to do better that we may put by for a rainy day. In Juan’s +state of health that seems important, and moreover, I take a sort of +pride in seeing how well I can do on the least amount.” + +“Can I help you?” + +“No, I must do it myself. Run along and don’t worry.” + +Patty went slowly downstairs. What a dear Tina it was and how +abominably she was treating her by allowing her to believe things which +were not so. “I’ll have to ’fess some day, I suppose,” she said, “but +if Perdita goes to the convent and Tomás to America there is no hurry. +I wonder when Tomás will be back, by the way.” + +She stopped to have a word with Manuela who was eager to hear more +of the discovery of the lost earrings, and then she went out to the +garden. She wandered through its paths unheeding Ba-Ba’s plaintive +bleating. When she came to the door of the chapel she tried it and +found it opened. She entered to find the candles before St. Anthony +were low in their sockets. One flickered and went out as she stood +watching it. “I wonder,” said she addressing the figure before her, “if +you can also restore friends. I think candles seem more efficacious +than the dousing; suppose I try candles.” She stood watching the +expiring flame of the second candle when she heard the door behind +her close, and a footstep on the stone floor, then someone gave an +apologetic little cough. + +“Is that you, Tomás?” asked Patty. “There, I said I wouldn’t look +around till it went out and it has almost. Well?” + +“It isn’t Tomás, Miss Patty; it is I.” + +“Oh!” Patty wheeled around, the flickering candle sending up a last +dying gleam. “You? It is you?” + +“Yes, I am sorry if you are disappointed, but I can’t help being just +Robert Lisle.” + +“And I can’t help being surprised when you have been away such a long, +long while. How have you been?” + +“I have been quite well, though I, too, appreciate that it has been a +long, long while, and I have come back because I couldn’t stay away any +longer.” + +“Couldn’t you? Why?” + +“Because you and your sister are the only home folks I have in this +land.” + +Patty stiffened ever so little. “I suppose you have come to say +good-bye. Do you return to England soon?” + +“Not yet awhile. There is nothing special to take me there. My cousin, +Walter Sterling, is with my grandfather and neither needs me.” + +“But what of Miss Moffatt?” + +“Her memory was buried, you know.” + +“And has not been resurrected?” + +“No.” + +“Will you tell me about her; you said you would some day. Has she light +hair? She is like a gray day, I remember, but I want to know not so +much what she is as who she is.” + +“She has quite light hair, yes, and blue eyes. How did you guess? She +is the girl my grandfather expects me to marry.” + +“Does she expect it?” + +“She has no reason to. We have been friends for a couple of years and +I have paid her a few dutiful attentions. She is wealthy and of good +family.” + +Patty’s chin went up. “So she has all that is desirable. When may we +congratulate you?” + +“Oh, but aren’t you forging ahead rather fast? Have you forgotten the +obsequies?” + +“No, I haven’t forgotten but--she seems so exactly the proper choice.” + +“So my grandfather says, but I do not say so. She is not my choice +and I have written to say so. She will not want for suitors. They are +liable to come forward in numbers.” + +“But what if--” + +“Go on, please.” + +“What if you are her choice? What if she believes herself to be the one +you have chosen?” + +“I do not see how she could think that.” + +“You write to her?” + +“I wrote once, a friendly letter when I first came away. The second +letter I destroyed without sending. I have told my grandfather that, +while I appreciated all he had done for me, in matters of this kind I +must use my own judgment and that Miss Moffatt was not the woman for +me, this I had discovered since I came to Spain.” + +“I thought ‘absence made the heart grow fonder’?” + +“It does in some cases, as I can speak from my own experience.” + +Why did Patty suddenly lean forward to put an extinguishing finger on +the smoking wick, since there was not light enough to discover the red +which flamed up into her cheek. She said not a word but stood looking +at St. Anthony. + +“I am thinking of going to America, to the States,” the young man went +on. “If my father left me no fortune, at least he left me friends and +relatives over there who are warm-hearted and sincere.” + +“Tomás is going to America, perhaps, and Perdita to a convent. Polly is +going to be married and--oh, dear--” + +“But there is still Don Felipe.” + +“Yes, but what of him?” + +“Exactly. What of him?” + +“He is getting very frivolous in his old age and is talking of making +all sorts of changes at the _palacio_.” + +“What for?” + +“We think he is preparing for a young wife.” + +“And who might she be?” + +“She might be most anyone, but there are reasons why we suspect he +believes she will be your humble servant.” + +“Oh!” The exclamation came sharply. + +It hurt him, of that Patty was sure and her tender heart could not +bear to see anyone hurt. “I didn’t say,” she broke the silence, “I was +the one, I only said we thought he rather counted on it, just as your +grandfather counted on Miss Moffatt, and with just as much result.” + +“I am very glad of that.” The words came simply. Then after a pause: +“And Tomás?” + +“I could tell you tales of Tomás, but I must not. He is a dear lad and +I am very fond of him, but he is going to America, as I said, and may +be gone two or three years.” + +Robert drew a sigh as of one rid of a load, and again silence fell. + +“How did you know I was in here?” Patty asked presently. + +“When I came I asked for the ladies. Doña Martina was upstairs I was +told and the señorita Patty had gone into the chapel, Anita had just +observed. Would I join her there? So I came and found you.” + +“Are you going soon to the States?” + +“I don’t know. My business here is about over. It has not been +disappointing, and may lead to other things of the same sort. There is +some talk of an English syndicate, composed of the same men, who may +conclude to work some mines in our West. I am talked of in connection +with that if it materializes, but it will not be for some months; those +things take time. Aside from that I have no special prospects, and +shall go to Kentucky or elsewhere as circumstances direct.” + +This time it was Patty who gave a long sigh as of content. “Will you +go in and see Tina?” she asked. There were hours, days, perhaps weeks +ahead, and one need be in no haste when time was not an object. + +They left St. Anthony in darkness and took the upper way to the house +to find Doña Martina had finished her accounts and was wondering where +Robert was, Anita having told her of his arrival. + + + + + CHAPTER XVII + + PATTY IS PUZZLED + + +Fearing a second accident to the earrings Patty resolved the next day +to take them to Perdita whom she had not seen since the meeting on +the lonely hill. There was no fear of missing a visit from Robert, +since Patty in a tremor lest he should believe her too eager to see +him, had said she would not be at home till later. It was a fine calm +morning when she started out. Over the mountains was a blue haze, the +sky toward the west was golden clear, but along the mountain tops soft +mists drifted, once in a while lifting to show the outline of the range +which continued on and on to the sea. The summer was nearly over but +the air was still warm and balmy, and there was no prospect of chill in +it. + +Leaving Ba-Ba bleating after her and Guido looking out from his stable +window the girl went on foot past the garden and up the long crooked +path leading to the mountain. The gipsies had long since departed, +only the blackened embers of their camp fire giving evidence of their +ever having been there. As she walked along, Patty pondered on the +gipsy’s prophecy. The fair-haired woman must be Miss Moffatt of whom +she no longer felt jealous. Why should she, since all that affair was +closed? Though perhaps, after all, the grandfather would be so angry +that Robert would not be able to stand out against him. Yet, it was a +comfort to know that so far there had been no sentimental passages in +the direction of “the drab girl,” as Patty had come to call her. As +for the rest, would all end as she wished? She was singularly light +of heart as she walked along. The world seemed suddenly brighter, her +troubles of less account. “I know now why I was unhappy,” she told +herself, “but I didn’t know till I saw him. I really didn’t, and that +is why I was afraid to see him this morning too early. I was afraid he +would find out too soon what I have only just learned myself. I can +appreciate now how Perdita felt. Poor Perdita, I wonder what will be +her future?” + +She climbed on up the height till just ahead she saw the little +farmstead, then she suddenly stopped. Surely that was Don Felipe’s +horse! And, yes, it was Don Felipe himself standing there in earnest +conversation with old Catalina. Surely he was counting out money. Patty +crept behind the hedge and waited. She would not intrude. She would +stay where she was till the transaction was over. What did it mean? Was +he buying some curio? It must be very valuable, for that was the gleam +of gold and those were banknotes which Catalina was stowing away. Why +was Don Felipe so lavish all at once? Suddenly it came over her like a +flash that perhaps it was he who was educating Perdita, and that it was +Perdita whom he wanted to marry. + +Her face dimpled. “What a joke on us if it is so,” she murmured. Then +she became very grave. Poor Perdita! poor Tomás! Was this why Perdita +had not appeared at the house for several days? Had she kept back a +part of her trouble, and was this why she had seemed so despairing? +Patty was puzzled. + +She kept in hiding till Don Felipe had mounted his horse and had gone +trotting by, then she waited till a turn in the road hid him from view +before she crept out and went up to the house. Her knock at the door +was answered by Catalina. No, Perdita was not in; she had gone to the +village perhaps, or to the _cura_. Catalina did not know which. Would +the señorita come in and wait? She must be tired from the climb. How +was the good doctor and his señora? Praise the saints, she, Catalina +was well, and had nothing to complain of now that she had her eyes +again. + +But Patty would not stay. She made her adieu and went off without +referring to the plans for Perdita’s future, and without mentioning +that she had been witness to Don Felipe’s visit. On the way home +conjectures were rife. She knew Catalina was avaricious and that for +money she would readily bargain with Don Felipe. Moreover, what a +triumph for her ambition if he were to marry her granddaughter. That he +was much impressed by the girl, Patty had every reason to know. “And it +is probably all my doing,” she said, ruefully. “If I had not dressed +her up that day he would never have noticed her one way or the other, +but what old man, or young one either, could resist anything so lovely +as she was. I never saw anyone so beautiful. No wonder he completely +lost his head. Poor Tomás! Poor Perdita! For of course she will have +to marry him, if he has the grandmother and the _cura_ on his side. +Fancy Perdita’s being at the head of that old _palacio_ and fancy the +surprise of Tomás.” + +Arriving at home she found her sister at the door looking after a +figure which was fast disappearing down the road. “Robert has been +here; he has just gone.” + +“Oh!” Patty felt bitter disappointment. Why couldn’t he have waited +five minutes longer, when she had told him she would not be back till +later in the morning? If he were so impatient to see her could he not +have remained till she returned? Yet none of this would she betray to +her sister, so she said with seeming indifference, “He seems to be in +a hurry. Heigho! it isn’t as cool as one would suppose. I have been +walking too fast. Has Tomás come back yet?” + +“Yes, I believe so, though he has not arrived at the house. Come in, +Patty; or, no, let us go into the summer-house. I want to talk to you.” + +Patty glanced at her sister. There was unusual gravity in her tones and +the girl’s heart beat fast. Had the moment arrived for revelations? +And was she ready to face them? She showed none of her perturbation, +however, but said lightly, “I went to carry Perdita her earrings, but +there seems to be a fatality about them, for I had to bring them back +again, as she was not there. I didn’t want to leave them, for I don’t +exactly trust that old grandmother. She said Perdita was not at home.” + +“Yes, I know she was not.” + +“Why, has she been here?” + +“No. Sit down, Patty, and let us talk things over. If I am not +mistaken, there has been some deception going on.” + +Patty seated herself on the stool opposite her sister, in the same spot +she had occupied when Doña Martina looked in upon herself and Tomás +that fatal day. “What do you mean?” she asked faintly. + +“I mean that either you and Tomás have been pulling the wool over my +eyes or that you and I both are greatly deceived. That sly, designing +girl!” + +“Now, Tina, please--” + +“I forget, you may not know, poor child. I must tell you, then, for +your own good, that this morning I started out to see one of Juan’s +patients and carry her some broth. I took a short cut through the woods +and suddenly saw ahead of me Tomás and Perdita. They were so absorbed +that they did not see me, and I turned back at once, so I suppose I +was not seen at all, though I made no mistake in recognizing them, +and then, Patty, dear, you were right in the very beginning. He is a +wolf in sheep’s clothing.” She stretched out her hand and clasped her +sister’s, “But it is better you should know before it is too late. He +had his arm around Perdita, her head was on his shoulder and she was +evidently crying while he tried to comfort her.” Doña Martina’s voice +shook as she spoke. + +Patty nervously withdrew her hand. “I think I can explain it,” she +said. “I believe I know why Perdita was crying.” Then she told of what +she had seen that morning, and of the conclusion she had drawn. “So, +you see,” she said with a little half smile, “it will settle any affair +between Tomás and Perdita, and I suppose they were taking a last sad +farewell.” + +Her sister regarded her with surprised eyes. “But, Patty,” she cried, +“you take it so calmly. Don’t you really care that Tomás has been +trifling with both of you?” + +“He hasn’t been, Tina, dear. Oh, I know I am a sad sinner, but really +Tomás and I have never had the little tender meetings you imagine. +The whole world might have heard what we had to say, so far as we +personally are concerned. That day when you came upon us in here, I had +just promised to stand by him and Perdita, who have been in love with +each other for two years, and he was only expressing his gratitude. +Now, wait a minute before you say anything. They felt that they could +not grieve Juan, who has been so good to them both, and so they have +kept the affair a secret. Neither one would have been willing to marry +without Juan’s consent, and would even have given up one another, but +I advised them to wait and see what time would develop. You see what +has happened and you ought to feel terribly sorry for them instead of +blaming them. It is not in the least surprising that a young man left +entirely alone, as Tomás was, should find consolation in the loveliest +girl in the vicinity, or that she should give her love to him, and I +think they are to be pitied.” + +“I do feel sorry for them. But, Patty, were you never the least in love +with Tomás?” + +“Never, never. We are excellent friends, and all of that getting off +by ourselves and the whisperings were because we wanted to discuss +all this which I have been telling you. Perdita is a darling and I am +perfectly disgusted that she is to marry that old mummy.” + +“But you only surmise that.” + +“To be sure. Yet I think all points that way, don’t you?” + +“I must confess I do.” Doña Martina sat silent with hands folded across +the table, a look of sadness upon her fine face. Presently she sighed +deeply. “Patty,” she said, “I didn’t think you could so deceive your +sister. I think that part grieves me more than all the rest.” + +“Oh, I know I am a perfect wretch, but I didn’t realize till I was in +the thick of it, and then I didn’t like to go back on my word. At first +I did it only to tease you. I thought it was such fun to pretend that +Tomás and I were smitten with one another, but after a while I got +deeper and deeper into the affair. I felt so conscience-smitten and you +were such a darling. I realize that I am a perfect ingrate, and I feel +as grieved about myself as you do.” The tears came to her eyes. “It has +taught me a lesson and I shall never again put my finger into another +such a pie. Please say you forgive me, Tina, and that you are sorry for +Tomás and Perdita.” + +“I forgive you, Patty, of course, though I am dreadfully hurt that you +should have acted so, yet on the whole I think I am relieved that it is +not Tomás. I tried to make the best of it and would have accepted the +situation gracefully, I hope, but now that it seems probable that Juan +will cut loose from here after a little, and that Tomás will probably +go to Mexico, we should have been separated after all, and I am glad to +keep my sister near me for a while, naughty as she is.” + +“And are you sorry it is not for her that the grand _palacio_ is to be +fitted up?” + +“Not in the least. I know your mind on that subject.” She was silent +for a moment, then she said, “There is another thing, Patty, although I +see now that I was wrong in thinking you might be trifling with Tomás; +what about Robert Lisle? I am afraid he thinks a great deal of you.” + +Patty’s head drooped and she played nervously with her handkerchief, +folding and unfolding it on the table. “What makes you think that?” she +at last found voice to say. + +“He has just been here, you know, and from what he said, I gathered +that he--cared--but, as he said, he has his way to make and he has +no right to speak. He said that in time he hoped to be sufficiently +established to be able to offer a home to the woman he wished to marry. +In the meantime, it was not honorable, he thought, for him to stand in +the way of a worthier man or of a more prosperous marriage, should one +offer. So he must keep silence.” + +“And then?” + +“And then,” her sister gave a searching look at the still downcast +face, “oh, Patty, I told him that it was Tomás, and oh, dear, he +looked like one smitten and I was afraid you have been playing with him +instead of Tomás. I was so possessed with the idea that it was Tomás, +you see, and I thought it would be kinder to let him go without seeing +you, and so--he has gone.” + +“Not gone altogether? He is coming back to say good-bye to me? You +don’t mean gone away from here?” Patty stretched out her hands +imploringly. + +“I am afraid so. It did seem better. He left his good-byes and best +wishes for your happiness.” There was real distress in Doña Martina’s +tones. + +“And he will go to England, and she has light hair!” cried Patty +wildly. “Oh, Tina, what have you done? What have you done?” + +“I didn’t know, dear. I didn’t know. Oh, if you had only confided in +me.” + +“I didn’t confide in myself, and I didn’t know either, not till this +time when he came back. I had been unhappy sometimes, but I didn’t know +why, and when he came into the chapel yesterday I was never so glad +to see anyone in all my life and then--I knew--but I thought he was +going to stay on and on and on, and it was like a beautiful dream that +I didn’t want to waken from. I thought--I almost knew he cared--but I +wanted the secret all to myself until--until he really said so. Oh, +Tina, don’t say he has actually gone. He couldn’t have. Why, it is +only a few minutes ago I saw him walking down the road.” + +“I know dear child, but I think he meant to put the matter to a test +to-day, for he told me he should be able to make the train, and I have +heard it whistle since we sat here. I fancy he was prepared for what he +might hear from me.” + +Patty still held out shaking hands. “Why didn’t you tell me at once--at +once?” She felt that she could have rushed after him, have gone on +wings of mad longing and have intercepted him before he should get away. + +“Because, dear, as I have told you, I didn’t dream but that it was +Tomás, and I was so full of that as the prime matter of importance that +I let the other go till I should have discussed the thing that was +uppermost in my mind. However,” she added comfortingly, “I will send a +note to the _fonda_ at once, in case he is still there. I will go now +and write so that Anita can take it.” + +“Did he say where he was going from here?” inquired Patty, lifting her +head, which she had dropped on her arms. + +“No. He said he would write me when he felt equal to it, poor boy.” + +“Don’t, don’t,” wailed Patty. “It isn’t your fault, Tina; it is all +mine, all, all. I’ve been an idiot all the way through. I’ve been a +silly, stupid, ungrateful wretch and I haven’t been true to anyone.” + +“Except Tomás and Perdita, dear girl, and you have been too true to +them. After all, as I think of it, I am the only one with whom you have +not been quite sincere, for now I know about Tomás, I don’t see that +you have been untrue to any other than your cross old sister.” + +“You’re not cross; you are a darling; the best sister in the world. It +is I who have been all in the wrong and I am being punished for it.” +She dropped her head again. + +Her sister leaned over and passed her hand caressingly over the dark +hair. “I will go and send the note now, dear, and if he has not gone we +can soon set the matter right. Do you care so much you would be willing +to wait, perhaps for years, Patty, darling?” + +“I’d wait for him years, yes, a lifetime. I am young and I have +you, Tina. Oh, keep me close beside you. I am so miserable! I am so +miserable! How can anyone be so unhappy all of a sudden?” + +“It isn’t irretrievable, dearest.” Her sister knelt down beside her. “I +can write to England; we know where his grandfather lives, and I will +send a letter there telling of my mistake.” + +“Oh, but you mustn’t--you mustn’t say it makes any difference to me; I +couldn’t stand that.” + +“Dear little sister, trust to me. I will manage so he will know that +it is not Tomás, and that will be enough.” + +With this comfort and the hope that the young man really might not +have gone, Patty was obliged to be satisfied, but she sat in the +summer-house alone while her sister went to despatch the note. She +heard Anita go forth and knew it would be nearly an hour before she +could be expected to return, yet still she sat and waited. After a long +time she heard her sister’s footsteps, though she did not dare to hope, +but,--ah, if it should be! + +Doña Martina came softly in and laid a hand on the bowed head. “I am so +grieved to tell you, dear little girl, but he had gone.” + +“I knew it, I knew it,” murmured Patty. + +“Tomás has come in and he looks as unhappy as you. Oh, you poor +children, you poor children, all of you so miserable. I think, dear, if +you will consider, the plight of Tomás and Perdita is far worse than +yours, for theirs is hopeless while yours is not.” + +“We don’t know that,” returned Patty, whose thoughts had been very +busy. “He may go straight off and marry Miss Moffatt.” + +“And who is she?” + +“The girl his grandfather wants him to marry.” + +“Oh, I didn’t know about her. I must not delay in writing to him, +then. I will find an excuse this very night and I will make a point +of putting my own name and address on the outside of the envelope.” +This she did, and the days lagged heavily enough till a reply might be +expected, but none came; instead the letter was returned with “Address +unknown” written across it. + +Meanwhile Perdita had gone to Llanes to remain a couple of weeks +while her wardrobe was being prepared. Only once had Patty seen her +and that was when she came to say good-bye. With heavy eyes the two +looked on one another, each so filled with her own sorrow that she had +nothing but commonplaces in the way of speech. Patty gave the earrings +as a parting gift; Perdita brought as a last token a piece of her +embroidery. So they parted and who could tell what turn of fate would +bring them together again? + + + + + CHAPTER XVIII + + WAITING + + +It was not long after Perdita’s departure that Tomás, too, left home +to take a position in Mexico which had been secured for him by some +friends of his brother’s, and with him gone Patty felt that she had +lost her last young companion. The two had become fast friends and +comrades, and with the utter disappearance of Robert Lisle, and with +Perdita removed, Don Juan and his wife sometimes whispered to one +another that perhaps, after all, the one’s brother and the other’s +sister might find consolation in a mature affection in the years to +come. “One so seldom marries one’s first love,” remarked Doña Martina, +“and they are all so young, of course they will recover, especially as +they are so entirely separated from the objects of their affection.” +She had, nevertheless, written to her Uncle Henry Beckwith, had asked +if any news had been had of Robert Lisle, and in time received the +reply that at last reports he was about to go to South Africa with a +party of Englishmen, and that nothing had been heard from him since. + +South Africa! To Patty this might as well have been out of the world. +She could no longer be called the Glad Lady, though her natural +exuberance would often come to the front, yet her face had become +more thoughtful, the girlish roundness was departing from it, and the +knowledge of womanhood’s reality showed in the expression of the lovely +eyes. She spent much time in the little chapel where she and Robert had +last met, and would sit there in front of St. Anthony lost in dreams. +If only she had not gone that morning to Perdita’s with the earrings. +Such a slight thing to change one’s whole life, “The little more and +how much it is--” When her thoughts had traveled over and over the same +ground till they maddened her, she would get up and go out to Guido, +who, in these days, was more petted than ever before. He had grown +so sleek and fat that his former master would never have recognized +him. Indeed, with his pretty new harness and trappings, Patty had +taken delight in showing him off to Don Felipe, who could scarcely +believe this to be the forlorn, scrubby little beast which the beggar +had ridden. “So, you see,” Patty had said, “after all, it was a great +bargain,” a fact which Don Felipe was obliged to admit, if unwillingly. + +The old don came often, generally with a roll of drawings tucked +under his arm. These would be spread out and much discussed, for they +represented plans for alterations or decorations, and in them Patty +took a lively interest, although she felt many pangs of sympathy for +Perdita, lonely and homesick away off in Madrid, for thus far had she +gone. + +“This room would be charming in rose pink,” said Patty one day, when +she had been going over some plans with Don Felipe. “She would look +lovely against such a background with her hair and eyes.” + +The old don gave a suspicious glance from his sharp eyes. + +“Oh, you needn’t think you are going to surprise us all so very much,” +Patty went on, the old mischief returning to her face. “I have pretty +good reasons for believing our friend Perdita will some day grace your +_palacio_.” + +“And why?” The man looked down and nervously fumbled at the edge of the +paper he was holding. + +“Well, in the first place, I saw you were much impressed the day I +presented her as the Señorita Gonzalez, and in the second place, I +happened to see you one day when you were having an interview with her +grandmother, and then, when it became apparent that you were fitting up +your house for the reception of a young wife, it was not difficult to +draw conclusions, was it?” + +Don Felipe smiled. “Well, you will admit that I have shown good taste,” +he remarked. + +“Excellent; I never saw a more beautiful girl, and she is as good as +she is lovely.” + +“I believe that, otherwise--but now, since you have put this and that +together so cleverly, you must let me thank you for showing such favor +to her, and for permitting me to become acquainted with the beauty and +virtues of the future mistress of my house. I have but one more request +to make, and that is that you will respect my secret until such time as +I may be ready to make it public. It is a little whim of mine to give a +surprise to my friends at large.” + +“You do not mind my sister’s knowing, do you? She already suspects.” + +“No, for I am sure you are both honorable ladies, who can be discreet +as well as silent when occasion requires.” + +“You can depend upon us, Don Felipe,” returned Patty quietly. Poor +Perdita, so there was no longer any doubt, and poor Tomás! + +When Don Felipe had carried off his papers and his coach had borne him +away, Patty sought her sister. “It is quite true, Tina,” she said; “Don +Felipe has confessed that it is Perdita for whom he is getting the +house ready, but he bound me over to secrecy, or, at least, he said you +could know, too, but he trusted to us not to tell anyone. He was really +very nice about it, and if it were not for Tomás, I should feel that +Perdita need not be pitied after all, for from her point of view she +will be making a great match.” + +“Yes, there is not a doubt of that, and of course we can understand +that he doesn’t want the subject made the talk of the province, as +it would be. I quite respect his desire to keep it a secret. I am +surprised, however, that he should be spending all this on his house +for a bride who is unused to any such splendor.” + +“That is just it, I think; he wants to dazzle her, and play up to his +character of King Cophetua. Then, too, I think he will enjoy seeing her +beauty in a proper setting; he has not an inartistic taste, that old +don.” + +“I suppose he has made us the recipients of his confidences because he +is aware that we know few people, and that, as two foreigners, we would +be less likely to noise the matter abroad.” + +“Very likely that is it, yet I think he is really fond of us, in his +way.” + +“I think he was very fond of you, and maybe still is, in a certain way. +I am sure it was only Perdita who could have cut you out.” + +Patty laughed. “Well, it is too late now for any regrets, isn’t it? I +wouldn’t look badly myself in that rose-colored room. Tina,” she went +on after a pause, “suppose he should die, or Catalina should, before +the two years are up, no one could force her to marry him, for Tomás +told me she has sworn that she will never, never consent willingly, +and that she will be true to him.” + +“She knows, then?” + +“She suspects, or at least only suspected at first. Don Felipe had been +to the house two or three times, had talked to her quite as one on +intimate terms, and he gave her a parting gift of a handsome jewel, so +you see she had to believe it, though she has all along clung to the +idea that it was her father in South America who was doing all this +for her. Her grandmother insisted that she should accept whatever Don +Felipe offered and became very angry one day and threatened to tell the +_cura_ when Perdita protested. She still believes that her father may +prove the one hope on which she can rely to escape, yet as she does not +know where he is, and the grandmother would move heaven and earth in +order to further this marriage, I don’t see that there is much chance. +Tomás told me most of all this. Tina, if any one of these things did +happen, would Juan be willing to accept Perdita?” the girl asked after +a pause. + +“Oh, my dear, I don’t know. He was much cut up when he first heard +of the affair, but since all has turned out this way he has scarcely +referred to the matter again, for, indeed, there seemed no need to.” + +“Two years--they have been in love with each other for two years,” said +Patty thoughtfully. + +“How do you know?” + +“Oh, they have confided everything in me. It was after his mother’s +death, and Tomás was lonely and for a time not well. Perdita used +to come to his housekeeper with messages from her grandmother, and +once when the old housekeeper was ill Perdita stayed to help her, +and in that way the two became better acquainted, and so it began. +Then he would sometimes, as if by accident, walk in her direction, or +they would meet on the road when he had been to see Father Ignacio, +and after a while they met more and more frequently, then one day a +_vacquero_ coming along said something impertinent to Perdita and Tomás +was furious; that was when they found out how much they cared, and +after that they would meet secretly, for they did not want anyone to +talk about them. Tomás felt that Perdita’s reputation must not suffer, +though all the time Tomás declared they must marry as soon as they +could. No doubt they would have done so, if we had not all appeared on +the scene. Poor dears, how unhappy they must be.” + +“It is a pity, a great pity,” said Doña Martina slowly. “That is what +comes of shutting oneself away from companions of one’s own class. If +Tomás had met girls of the proper kind, he would have escaped this +unfortunate attachment.” + +“But the poor lad; he couldn’t help himself. He couldn’t leave his +mother when she needed him, and was the only child left to her.” + +“I know, I know,” interrupted Doña Martina hastily. “I am not blaming +him, Patty. I am only saying it was unfortunate.” + +“And I am sure,” Patty went on, “that if Perdita is good enough for Don +Felipe to marry, she ought to be good enough for Tomás.” + +“We won’t discuss that,” said Doña Martina. “I am sorry Tomás is still +so unhappy. I have no doubt the poor boy is homesick, yet there is +nothing to be done, I am afraid.” She was too tactful to suggest that +they would probably recover from their present state of unhappiness, +that they were both too young to mourn long, for she knew that Patty, +at least, was still sore at heart. She looked tenderly at the girl, who +sat there with listless hands in her lap. “Poor darling,” she thought, +“I wish we could help her, but there is no healer except Time.” “Shall +you go to Paulette’s wedding?” she asked presently. + +Patty shook her head. “No, I shouldn’t enjoy it, and besides I want to +be with you at Christmas. We haven’t had one together for two years.” + +“We must try to make as happy a time of it as possible, then. Don’t +look so hopeless, dear. You know that it isn’t impossible that we hear +any day from Uncle Henry of someone’s whereabouts. He must write to his +friends at Christmas time, so don’t be so downhearted.” + +“South Africa seems out of the universe,” Patty made answer, “and +then, too, there is Miss Moffatt; that is the worst part of it. If he +turns to her there will be an end to it.” + +“Yes, but we came to the conclusion that he must have been very decided +about his intentions in that direction or else his grandfather would +not have quarreled with him. We know they couldn’t be on good terms, +else my letter would not have been returned in the way it was.” + +“I have gone over all that times without number,” responded Patty +wearily, “but just the same there is the chance of his making up with +his grandfather on that very ground. That is the trouble and when we +shall at last have heard it will be too late.” + +There was nothing to say to this except, “But it may not be so. Let us +look on the bright side and wait to see.” + +“I am waiting. I have been waiting. It seems to me as if I must keep on +waiting till I am old and worn out with it all,” returned Patty with a +sudden burst of passion. + +“You are too much alone,” her sister averred. “I quite agree with Juan +that it would be best to winter in Paris. It may be a little more +expensive, but I think it will be better for both of you. He is getting +restless, and as for you, these lonely walks and rides are not the +thing at all.” + +“I’d really rather not go,” Patty rejoined. “I couldn’t take Guido nor +the chapel, and they are such a comfort.” + +Her sister shook her head. The girl must indeed be in a morbid state +when these two things were all her solace, and she was more than ever +decided that it would be best to make a change. + +Therefore, to Paris they went, and if its gay scenes did not entirely +satisfy Patty’s longings, they at least roused her to a more wholesome +attitude of mind, so that the color came back to her cheeks and the +shadows under her eyes lessened. + +They stopped on their way at Poitiers in order to have a glimpse of +Paulette, who, voluble and important, was absorbed in her coming +wedding and displayed her trousseau with much satisfaction. She begged +Patty to remain, but her refusal did not make for much disappointment, +since Paulette’s own affairs were the main issue, and no one but her +fiancé possessed powers to interfere with her content. He seemed a +pleasant, commonplace person, distinctly bourgeois, but adoring his +chic little betrothed, in whom he saw all the beauties and virtues of +womanhood combined. + +The finding of a proper apartment was at first a matter of interest, +and Patty could but show some concern in this, then when it was finally +decided upon, the getting settled and the becoming acquainted with the +neighborhood served to take her thoughts from purely personal matters. + +Perhaps the most interesting experience of the winter was the meeting +of an English girl who knew the quiet Miss Moffatt, and who had met +Robert Lisle. That there was no announced engagement, Patty learned +to her satisfaction, that there ever would be was a matter of mere +conjecture, for, said Alice Brainerd: “Beatrice has several admirers +and you know it is ‘out of sight out of mind,’ more than once.” If +this latter remark contained also a grain of discomfort, the other +information overbalanced it, so that Patty was not quite so unhappy as +she had been. + +Once in a while came news from Kentucky, and sometimes there was a +slight reference to Robert, but there was never any more said of his +whereabouts, and Patty was as much in the dark as ever. + +The English girl, Alice Brainerd, was a student at the art school +where Doña Martina sometimes went to practise water-color, which she +did rather well and of which she was very fond. She often brought Miss +Brainerd home for a cup of afternoon tea and it was in this way that +they all became good friends. Alice Brainerd came in one day with her +sketch book, in which she had been making a pencil drawing at the +afternoon sketch class. + +Patty picked up the book and began looking it over. “Who is this?” she +asked, pausing before the head of a meek looking girl with smooth hair +and gentle eyes. + +“Oh, that is Beatrice Moffatt. Didn’t I ever show it to you? It is not +so very good, however.” + +Patty studied the face long and earnestly. “She looks as if she were +very good,” at last she said. + +“She is good; very pious, you know, very gentle, yet she can be as +obstinate as anybody. That meek sort of person often is. I don’t +believe Bee has an enemy, yet she can be the most exasperating person I +ever saw.” + +“Yes?” Patty turned over the pages and suddenly the color rushed to +her face. She closed the book hurriedly and went to the window. “Tea +does make one so warm,” she presently remarked. Yet an irresistible +force drew her back to the book. Now that she was forewarned she could +continue her inspection, and she did so leisurely, beginning back of +the page which had so stirred her emotions and inquiring who this or +that one might be. “Who is this?” finally she asked after a seemingly +indifferent glance at the drawing of a man in a Norfolk jacket with +golf stick in hand. + +“Oh, don’t you recognize that? It doesn’t speak very well for my powers +of portraiture. That is Rob Lisle,” came the answer. “I did that the +only time I ever met him. He came down to the Moffatts’ for the week’s +end, and I was there at the time.” + +“O, yes, I believe I do recognize it,” said Patty lightly, as she +handed the book to her sister. “It isn’t bad, is it, Tina?” + +Doña Martina took the book and gazed at the figure. Miss Brainerd had +caught a characteristic pose and an expression as well. “It is really +quite like,” she declared, then looking up she read an appealing look +in Patty’s eyes, a look she could not stand. “Do you care for it, Miss +Brainerd? I mean would you spare it? I’d really like to have a drawing +of yours and you know we agreed to exchange sometime.” + +“Fancy your liking it. I have later things that are much better,” +returned Miss Brainerd. + +“Well, you see it has the double advantage of being your work and of +being the portrait of a friend, one might really say a connection. You +may choose from any of these in exchange;” and she opened a portfolio +of her own water-colors. + +“I’m decidedly getting the best of the bargain,” maintained Miss +Brainerd, turning over the sheets before her. + +“If you feel that way about it, I surely don’t,” return Doña Martina +lightly. “Then I may cut this out? Patty, there is a penknife on my +desk yonder.” + +Patty brought the knife, as she did so stooping to give her sister’s +shoulder a loving pat. “Darling,” she whispered. + +Doña Martina smiled a response. She knew what it would mean to the girl +to possess the little sketch, and at the same time she could but regret +a little her own impetuosity in securing it. However, she did not +hesitate to hand the drawing to Patty after Miss Brainerd had gone and +she received such thanks as robbed her of all regrets in the matter. + +The little picture was a great comfort to its possessor. Somehow it +seemed to bring Robert nearer to her; Africa did not appear such an +unreal place with those eyes looking straight out at her below the +level brows. Clear blue eyes they were, steadfast and honest. “I don’t +believe it will be Miss Moffatt,” Patty soothed her fears by saying, +“and if it is ever anyone else it will not be for some time.” So she +took heart of grace and pinned the picture on her wall, where it +performed the office of consoler during many days to come. + +Of Perdita they never heard. Behind convent walls she was kept strictly +and, as was expected, was allowed no intercourse with her friends. +Paulette came up for her wedding trip, serene and triumphant in new +clothes, and very self-satisfied with her big stupid husband, who +could stand, smile, and admire, if he could do nothing else. The +wedding being over the next matter of interest was the home, and of +this Paulette chattered continually, till all were rather relieved +when the two departed. There were a few days given to the sisters +in the convent where Patty had spent her two years and where she as +visitor was made much of by Sister Cecile and the rest. The peace of +it all went to Patty’s heart, and she came back to alarm her sister by +saying that she would like to be a nun, though credit must be given +to Miss Brainerd’s sketch for quickly shattering that dream and after +twenty-four hours no more was said of it. + +So the winter days passed, not unpleasantly, and, at times, even gayly, +while each day brought more buoyancy to the girl’s heart and newer +hope to her future. Possibilities loomed up grandly at times, and +imagination carried her across seas to a meeting which some day might +take place. + + + + + CHAPTER XIX + + DON FELIPE’S SURPRISE + + +Spring in Paris, flower-girls on the corners, trees bursting into leaf +in the parks re-created that longing which comes to young hearts who +suffer, and coming in one day with her hands full of spring blossoms, +Patty said, “Aren’t we going back, Tina? Think how lovely it would be +to see the apple-trees in bloom, to watch the spring green creeping +over the mountains. If we can’t be in Kentucky, can’t we be in +Asturias?” + +“Juan was saying the same thing to-day. Do you really want to go? +Doesn’t Paris satisfy you?” + +“Oh, no, it never could. You know I came only under protest, although +I have liked it, and I am sure it has been better for me to be here, +but I want to see Guido and the pigeons and all the dear warm-hearted +people, even Don Felipe I wouldn’t mind seeing, and I am sure there +will be much to talk about when we have been taken to the _palacio_ +to see what has been going on in the way of alterations. I wish Tomás +could be with us,” she added after a pause. + +“Poor boy, no doubt he wishes so, too. Have you heard from him to-day, +Patty?” + +“Yes, and he says my Spanish is improving. It was a good suggestion of +yours that we should correspond, for I am sure it has helped me with +the language, besides giving me something to do. I shall be very glib +this time. Tomás can write quite a respectable letter in English, and +sometimes almost clever ones. I really look forward to getting them.” + +Her sister smiled. Spring was returning and should not joy come to +life? When Tomás came back who knew what might happen? Maybe they would +all go out to Mexico before the two years were over, and propinquity +was such a factor in matters of the heart. + +“What are you looking so pleased about?” asked Patty. + +“Was I looking pleased? I was thinking about the letter, about Tomás +and his English, and of the two or three words which were all he knew +when we first met. Well, dearie, I am sure Juan will be only too glad +to get back to his native heath. He can work better there, he says, and +I am sure this book of his ought to be finished before fall. It has +been hanging fire too long, and I know he will not object to the quiet +of the country.” + +Patty went to her room and began cheerfully to gather up some of +her belongings to take away with her. She even sang a little tune +to herself, and was glad, glad to think of the long _carretera_, of +the purple mountains and blue skies of Spain, even of the creaking +cow-carts and the lusty calls of the _vacqueros_. It would be good to +see little gray Guido and to hear his blatant braying, to see Manuela’s +welcoming smile, and to receive Don Felipe’s stale compliments would +not seem hard. She wondered if the drops of wax from the candle before +St. Anthony still remained as they had fallen that day so long ago, and +if the winter rains had found their way through the roof of the old +chapel. + +All these things were discovered to be quite as she had left them when, +a week later, she arrived with her sister and brother. “In Spain, at +least, one is spared many changes,” she remarked to her sister, as she +leaned over the balcony and dropped crumbs to the pigeons. “There are a +few more pigeons, and the vines have climbed a little higher. I suppose +Don Felipe will not have changed a tooth, nor have altered a hair. He +will be coming as soon as he knows we are here.” + +But no Don Felipe ever came riding that way again, for the day after +their arrival Don Juan appeared with a grave face. “I have heard sad +reports of our friend, Don Felipe,” he informed his wife and sister. +“He is seriously ill.” + +“Oh, dear, I am so sorry.” Patty spoke with genuine concern. “I really +looked forward to his coming to-day.” + +“I fear he will never come again,” said Don Juan. + +“Is it as bad as that?” questioned his wife. + +“It is very serious. He is in a state of coma and has been for some +hours.” + +The next day the great _palacio_ of Felipe Velasco had lost its owner. +The work was left unfinished where the men had been busy restoring the +old rooms. The stuffs of rose and gold and crimson lay untouched, for +the flowers which had climbed to window and balcony peeped in to see a +still form lying with candles at head and feet. + +“And Perdita?” said Patty, looking at her sister, when Don Juan, who +had brought the news, left them alone. “What of Perdita and Tomás?” + +“We can’t face that yet, Patty, dear.” Her sister shook her head sadly. + +“But couldn’t I write to Tomás. It takes so long for a letter to reach +him.” + +“Wait a little and we shall be able to decide. It is a hard problem, +dear, and we cannot hurry with it. Juan is too troubled over this loss +of his friend to discuss anything else at present.” + +So Patty was obliged to give in, though she yearned to tell the news. +She felt really sorry that the old don had gone from them. She would +miss seeing his coach driving up the road; she would miss, too, the +sound of his cackling laugh over some joke of hers or her brother’s. +She wondered who would live in the big house. She understood there were +no very near relatives and she supposed the place would be shut up or +occupied by strangers. “Poor old Don Felipe,” she sighed, “after all he +didn’t get the thing he expected; who does in this world?” + +“Ave Maria,” said Manuela, who had come in, “but it will be a fine +funeral.” She crossed herself devoutly. “God rest his soul, but he was +a great man, little as he was in stature. Shall you go, señorita?” + +“My brother and sister will, of course, and perhaps I may, too.” + +“It will not pass here,” continued Manuela. “You have not heard, +perhaps, who will take the _oblada_.” + +“And what is that?” asked Patty curiously. + +“Oh, surely you must know, señorita. It is the offering of meat and +drink.” + +“And what is done with it?” + +“It is taken to the priest after the true funeral when the mass is +said. Sometimes the branches are planted, but the corn never, for it +would not grow.” + +Patty looked inquiringly. + +“You do not know what is in the _macona_, perhaps, señorita. Under the +cloth are two bottles of wine and the corn; the branches are plain +enough.” + +Then Patty remembered to have seen in the funeral processions a woman +walking directly behind the bier and carrying a _macona_, or round +basket, covered with a white cloth. Always a green branch stood out +each side of the basket, and the two hornlike protuberances under the +cloth were the bottles of wine. + +“There will be meat, too, no doubt, in the _macona_ on the day of Don +Felipe’s funeral,” went on Manuela. + +“And the corn; you said it would not grow, Manuela. Why?” + +The woman shook her head. “No one knows, señorita, but it is well known +that the corn of an _oblada_ never comes up if planted.” + +The next day Patty had a chance to observe the _oblada_ at the funeral +of the old hidalgo, but it received little of her attention, for, to +the surprise of all present, a young woman shrouded in black was the +chief mourner. “It is Perdita,” whispered Patty to her sister. “I +cannot be mistaken,” and her conjectures occupied more of her thoughts +than the intoning of the priest. Had Don Felipe married the girl after +all? He must have done so secretly and have then sent her back to the +convent to complete her studies; there was no other explanation. It was +well Patty had not written the letter to Tomás, as she had at first +been eager to do, for she could not have given all the surprising +news. Her thoughts ran on during all the rest of the service, and at +last when she came away it was with a determination to hunt up Perdita +the next day. + +This she attempted to do, but no Perdita was at the little farmstead, +neither was old Catalina there, and those who were either could not or +would not tell of their whereabouts. + +The following day, however, a servant came with a note, only a few +lines for Patty. Could she come on a certain day and hour if she were +sent for? The note was signed, “Perdita.” There was no hesitancy in +Patty’s acceptance and she waited impatiently for the message. It came +with the arrival from the _palacio_ of Don Felipe’s coach, which had +been sent for the Señorita Patty. + +“Now we shall know all about it,” said Doña Martina with satisfaction, +as she parted from her sister. “I shall be eager to hear what you have +to tell, Patty, so don’t stay any longer than you can help.” Patty +promised and drove away in state. + +As she was taken up the long avenue her thoughts flew back to a year +prior to this, when she had first entered the place and had been +greeted so ceremoniously by its owner. What changes in a year. Now it +was Perdita who stood at the head of the steps. Not the peasant girl, +Perdita, but a tall queenly lady in deep mourning, who greeted her +warmly, but with the manner of one who receives an equal. + +Work on the various rooms had been arrested, but the restoration in +most was carried so far as to give a different aspect to the place, a +fact of which Patty was rather glad. Through a long suite of apartments +Perdita led her friend. In one of the rooms was sitting old Catalina +with still the peasant’s black handkerchief tied over her head. +“Grandmother, this is the señorita Pattee, whom you will remember,” +said Perdita. + +Patty stopped for a moment to greet the old woman and then was ushered +into the next room, the door was closed and she was alone with--Doña +Perdita Velasco de Gonzalez, was it? + +The room was one of the suite which Patty remembered Don Felipe had set +aside for the use of “my young lady,” as he always said in referring to +her, and was the one which Patty had suggested should be upholstered in +rose-color. The walls and floors were finished, the former in French +style with garlands of roses, the latter of polished wood was covered +with Persian rugs in soft dull tints. The old furniture remained and +the black rafters. + +Perdita drew Patty to a seat by the window which overlooked stretches +of mountain pasture. “Are you surprised to see me here?” she asked. + +“Not altogether,” admitted Patty. “Not after seeing you at the +funeral. Of course, Perdita, we were surprised then, for though we knew +you would eventually be married we did not know that you were already +Doña Perdita Velasco de Gonzalez.” + +A mysterious smile came to Perdita’s lips. “I am not married,” she +said, “but I am the señorita Perdita Velasco de Gonzalez.” + +“What do you mean?” asked Patty, in bewilderment, differences of +Spanish titles being as yet a little unfamiliar to her. + +“I mean,” said Perdita, “that Don Felipe was my father.” + +“Perdita!” Patty nearly jumped from her seat in surprise. “How long +have you known this?” + +“Only for a very few days. I was hurriedly sent for to return home. +The sisters hastened me off, one of them came with me. I went to my +grandmother who was much agitated. ‘Your father is very ill,’ she said. +‘You must remain here with me till we see what happens.’ The next day +Don Felipe died. He was unconscious and I did not see him, for which I +am very sorry. My grandmother then told me.” + +“But she had said your father’s name was Pedro Ramon.” + +“She was right; his name was Don Pedro Felipe Ramon Velasco. She was +afraid he might not acknowledge me, but yesterday the lawyer opened +the will and he has left nearly all he possessed to me, his daughter, +Perdita. There are some bequests to the church and to one or two +friends. I will tell you of these later; but I am his acknowledged +daughter and heiress.” She threw up her head proudly, then her eyes +softened and she stretched out her hands. “Tell me of Tomás, and will +they object now?” + +“Oh, Perdita, how could they? Oh, my dear, I am so glad for you, so +very glad. And after all, Don Felipe was laughing in his sleeve while +he prepared his surprise. He admitted it was you for whom he was +getting his house ready, and he asked us to keep it a secret which of +course we did. I remember now that he never referred to you as anything +but ‘_mia señorita_.’ How clever he was to fool us all, poor old Don +Felipe.” + +Perdita sighed. “I am sorry he did not live long enough for me to give +him a daughter’s affection, yet, my dear friend, I believe if it had +not been for you I might never have come to this estate, for do you +remember that time you dressed me up and he seemed so aghast at my +appearance?” + +“Indeed, I remember well, and we thought it an old man’s admiration for +a beautiful girl.” + +“It was more than that; it was because I appeared to him as a vision of +my mother whom they say I am very like. He truly loved her and carried +her miniature with him to the day of his death. I will show it to you +and you can see my resemblance to her. Would you like to hear how he +came to marry her?” + +“I would indeed.” + +“She was a peasant girl such as I was, and one day he came to my +grandmother’s home, being belated by a storm and his horse having gone +lame. They took him in and my mother served him with the best the +house could afford. Don Felipe was even then an elderly man, fifty or +more, but he was much overcome by my mother’s looks, her sweetness and +modesty. He came again and again, always with some excuse. There was +a young man who wished to marry my mother and when Don Felipe found +this out he was wild with jealousy. No one had ever thwarted him and +he was bound to possess a girl so lovely as my mother. He went to my +grandmother and told her if she would consent to a secret marriage +that he would take her and her daughter to Paris and marry my mother +there; that he would always love her and be kind to her, but he could +not bring himself to acknowledge her openly. If my grandmother swore +never to disclose the secret while he lived he would see that she +always had enough and to spare. It was not difficult to persuade my +grandmother who saw comfort for the rest of her days and who could see +only advantage in honorable marriage with so great a man, so she spoke +to my mother, who it seems had no great fancy for anyone else, and who +was really impressed by the favor of Don Felipe. So to Paris they went +and were married. My grandmother went with them and after the ceremony +was safely over she came back home telling her neighbors that my mother +was married to one Pierre Raymond and was living in Paris, so no more +was thought of it. My mother and father lived in Paris a year and my +grandmother said it was Don Felipe’s pleasure to dress up his wife and +admire her in her fine clothes, so that no wonder he was so overcome +when he saw me. At the end of a year my mother died in giving birth to +me. My father was wild with grief and refused to even look at me at +first, and told my grandmother to take me away and never let him see me +again, so she took me home with her and I was brought up as you know in +the little _pueblo_ on the mountain.” + +“And he never saw you in all those years?” + +“Not to know me. My grandmother grew very fond of me, and was afraid +when I grew older that he might change his mind and take me from her, +so she never let him know I was the daughter on the rare occasions when +she did see him, but led him to believe I was at a convent school, for +the expense of which he paid. The money he gave her for this she kept +for my dowry, she says, for she feared he would leave all his wealth to +the church and she thought it but right that I should have whatever +she could save from what he allowed for my support.” + +“What a romantic story,” Patty commented. “I never expected to meet a +heroine who might have come out of a book. I do not see, however, why +your father did not recognize you sooner.” + +“He was very strong in his opinions, as you may remember, and as my +grandmother tells me. He never tried to see me and never came near +me in all those twenty years. My grandmother thinks he was afraid to +become fond of me lest I, too, should be taken from him and so he +resolved it would be better not to permit me to enter his life. Yet, +after he did see me dressed like a lady it seemed to him, so he told my +grandmother, as if my mother had come back and as if it were she whom +he was neglecting. Then he resolved to recognize me openly. He was very +angry when he found out that I had not been sent to the convent school +where he supposed me to be all that time, and he charged my grandmother +with having grossly deceived him by pretending it was a child of my +mother’s brother who was living with her. He said it was a disgrace +that she should have allowed his daughter to work in the fields and my +grandmother told him it was no more of a disgrace than that he should +have neglected me for twenty years; so they had it. And at last it +was agreed that I should be sent to school and learn to do as a lady +should, so that when he took me home to him I need not make him ashamed +of me. Have I improved, Patty? I have tried hard.” + +“Oh, Perdita, I think you were naturally a lady, for blood will tell, +yet I can see that you are more at ease; you have more _savoir faire_, +and you speak less like a child.” + +“My father said in his will that, in case of his death, he wished the +improvements to be carried on as he had planned and therefore they are +to be continued. I am glad, so glad that you have come back, for I +should be lonely in this great house. My old neighbors will be shy of +me, but you have always, always been good to me and have made a comrade +of me, so I have at least one friend of my own station. And Tomás, you +have not told me of Tomás? Ah, Patty, for his sake I rejoice in all +this.” + +“He was well when we last heard, though poor lad, he has been very +homesick. Have you never heard from him at all, Perdita?” + +“No, señorita,” the girl for a moment lapsed into the old phrase; “I +was not allowed to receive letters at the convent, you remember.” + +“I do remember, for otherwise I should have written to you myself.” + +“Do you think he will come back, Patty? Do you think he will be the +same? that he will not let all this come between us? He was willing to +take me to his heart when he believed me poor and beneath him, will he +be too proud, now I am his equal?” + +“Oh, Perdita, why should he when each has proved to the other the +sincerity of the love you feel. Why do you not write to him yourself?” + +“Señorita, I am afraid. I cannot tell you why, but I am. He may have +changed and then how pitiful to have offered myself to one who does not +care.” + +“I don’t believe he has changed in the least and I shall write to him +myself this very night.” + +“That is as the good friend you have always been,” returned Perdita, +gratefully. + +“Have you ever thought of the gipsy’s prediction, Perdita?” Patty asked +after a pause. “It has come true, or very nearly so, in your case. It +is very strange, isn’t it? Quite uncanny, I think. How could she have +known?” + +“I asked the _cura_ and he said it was not so strange or mysterious as +many other things. She no doubt had noticed me in passing, and seeing +me in your company, thought that either I was dressed below my station +or was above it in reality. She, too, had probably seen me with Tomás +at some time. They are very quick-witted, these gipsies, and she may +have perceived that we were interested in one another, so it was easy +to guess that I would rise above a peasant life. As to the death, that +comes to all and it was no more than a chance hit. She looked so hard +at me that I think she saw by my face when the prophecies came near the +truth.” + +“No doubt that would explain much of it. As for mine, well, I do not +think there was much mystery there, for it was easy to see I was not +a Spaniard and an _Inglesa_ would have to cross water. As for the +rest--well, life is not over.” + +There was much more to talk about and the two girls spent hours +together, so that when Patty did at last return home her sister had +grown so impatient at the long absence she could scarcely restrain her +curiosity till Patty was safely indoors. + +However, when Patty had told her tale her sister exclaimed: “Well, I +certainly don’t wonder that you didn’t come home sooner. With such a +tale as that to gather up I can’t blame you. It is like a thunderbolt +from a clear sky. What a surprise Don Felipe left us as a legacy. Juan +will be dumb with amazement.” + +“And Tomás?” + +“Ah, and Tomás. There goes my beautiful castle for you two, my dear. +Since he has done so well out there in Mexico, I did hope you might yet +become fond of one another.” + +“We are fond of one another, and if I am not to have your castle in +Spain, Tomás will have a _palacio_ which is quite as good to have in +the family, for of course, now--” + +“Oh, of course, now--” responded her sister. + + + + + CHAPTER XX + + THE THREE WISHES + + +Patty’s letter to Tomás might as well have not been written, for, +several days before its arrival at its destination, the young man +was on his way home. Don Felipe was too important an individual in +his community not to have much made of his death and of the romantic +and sensational appearance of a hitherto unsuspected daughter, and +because Tomás received a weekly sheet printed in Llanes he learned the +surprising events before he was personally notified. There was beyond +this, another reason for his sudden return as he was selected to go +on a business trip to his own country in the interests of the firm by +which he was employed. Heretofore he had not seemed eager to respond to +the suggestion, but with the news of Don Felipe’s removal from his path +he felt he would move heaven and earth in order to reach Perdita and at +once made application with so much enthusiasm in the undertaking, that +he was allowed to go at once to conduct the business which would take +him back to Spain. + +Meanwhile in the big _palacio_ Perdita sat and waited. Patty, who was +fast recovering her old spirits, spent much time with her, and her +gay laughter often enlivened the great rooms. Doña Martina, too, went +frequently. There had been a call of state when Don Juan and his wife +formally accepted Perdita as their brother’s betrothed, and now there +was nothing to do but to have patience. Don Felipe had added another +surprise, to his first, in a legacy to Don Juan of all his fine old +reliquaries and medals, and to Patty he left a case of antique jewelry +“in gratitude for her friendship to my daughter”; to this was added the +sum of one hundred _pesetas_ for the purchase of a donkey, “when Guido +shall no longer be of use.” So did Don Felipe have his little joke at +the last and Patty could fancy the dry chuckle which might accompany +the writing of this clause. + +The day of San Juan came and went, but there were no flowery boughs set +by Patty’s window this year, nor was much made of the day except by +Don Juan’s patients who brought their offerings as before; among these +was a handsome gift of silver from Perdita in “grateful memory of Don +Juan’s many kindnesses to herself and her family.” It was Perdita’s +first act as _grand dame_, and that she enjoyed it no one doubted. +There was no _fiesta_ this year, and the song of San Juan was not heard +approaching nearer and nearer till it ended at the door. + +June days had nearly come to a close when Patty one afternoon started +up the road alone. She had seen Perdita the day before when they had +discussed frescoes and upholstery. The workmen had returned and Perdita +was busy giving orders and seeing to the carrying out of her father’s +plans. She had developed a great deal of ability in the management of +affairs and seemed much older. The nuns had not wasted their time, for +in place of the childish peasant girl was a self-poised, efficient +woman. + +“I do miss the little peasant,” Patty said to herself, “yet I feel more +as if I had a friend who stood on an equal footing. Tomás will find +there is no condescension on his part.” She smiled. “I’d like to see +the meeting.” She strolled slowly along the road. Here was the spot +where she had seen the beggar beating his donkey. Poor old Don Felipe, +how indignant she had been with him that day, and from the moment when +Robert had come forward so generously she believed dated her warmer +feeling for him. She drew a long sigh. “I suppose patience is an +excellent virtue, but, oh dear, I wonder if it is doing any good to +exercise it. Where is he? Where is he? Why doesn’t he come back? What +should he come back for unless he knows, and how can he know? I suppose +there are people who would defy fate and would do something to set the +current moving. What could I do? Let me see. I could write to Alice +Brainerd and tell her Perdita’s story, laying stress on the fact that +she is to marry Tomás, and I could say that if she ever happened to +meet Robert Lisle to tell him the tale because he would be interested, +since he knew them both. I could do that without the least compromising +myself. Then I could write to Aunt Mag, not to Uncle Henry, men never +attach much importance to such things, but I could write to Aunt Mag +and tell her the same thing. I think I will do it. He said he would +some time go back to his old home and to his relatives in Kentucky. Oh, +if we could only go, could only be there when he is. Maybe if I fixed +my mind on it something will happen; it must, it must. I will make it +happen, I will tell Tina I must go back to Kentucky, to Uncle Henry’s +to stay till I can find out something. How can one care so much for a +person whom one, after all, has known such a short time? But that is +the way these things come; out of the sky, or they grow up over night.” + +She wandered on up the little road to the solitary place where the Lady +of Pity looked out from behind her iron grating upon green boughs and +rippling stream. Within the shelter of the little porch Patty found the +old stone seat where they two had sat that day when they had brought +Guido to be blessed. A year? was it less than a year ago? Here they had +seen Perdita on her knees. Well, unless fate now cruelly intervened +Perdita would have her prayer granted. And the three wishes. The +_inxanos_ had kept fatally silent. “They evidently don’t understand +English,” said Patty, with a sudden smile. “I believe I will go around +by the sea caves,” she said, rising from the bench; “I told Tina I +might. It will be lovely there to-day.” + +She followed the paths across to the wooded way which led to the +_playa_. “I seem to be making a sort of pilgrimage or _romeria_ on my +own account,” her thoughts followed the same subject. “Here is where I +stumbled and he held my hand to steady me. Oh, ‘what fools we mortals +be!’ Why didn’t I let him come home with me that night? Why was I so +contrary? I think I was afraid of myself. I was scared at the thought +of whither I was drifting. I was beginning to realize.” She crossed the +wide stretch of pebbly shore and entered the cave where the wishes had +been hidden. The place was well marked by a white seam in the rock. The +surgings of many wintry seas had long since penetrated the crevices of +the caves and she scarcely expected to find any vestige of the papers, +but they had been carefully stowed away in a little hollow and upon +lifting the rock under which they had been placed she found them, four +bits of folded paper, damp from the brine, but still whole. The one on +top she knew to be her own, for she remembered that she had laughingly +said hers would be the first the _inxanos_ would find. She took it up +carefully and opened it, standing there lost in pity for the girl who +had so cheaply thrown away the gifts which the genii had brought. “That +very night, if I had stopped to consider, it might have come true, at +least part of it. I believe I will put it back with his; I shall like +to think of their being in company.” + +She went toward the crevice, but just as she was about to tuck away her +paper again there was a crunch of the pebbles, then a footstep suddenly +arrested. She turned around. + +“Glad Lady!” + +The paper she held fluttered to the ground. The color went from the +girl’s cheeks. She could not speak. The _inxanos_ had been at work. +Here was the gift. + +The man took a step forward. “Glad Lady,” said Robert, a second time. + +Her lips trembled. She was very near to tears in the sudden rush of +joy, but she gathered strength to go forward. “I am a very glad lady,” +she said, “glad to see you. How did you find me?” + +“Your sister said you might be here.” + +“And where did you come from, South Africa? We heard you had gone +there.” + +“No, I have come from South America. My plans were all made for South +Africa, when they were suddenly changed and I went to South America +instead. What were you doing here? Waiting for the _inxanos_?” There +was an exultant vibrancy in his voice. + +[Illustration: “‘GLAD LADY!’”] + +“Not exactly. I wanted to see if the wish papers were still there.” + +“And were they?” + +“Yes, a little the worse for dampness. There is mine.” She pointed to +the paper lying at her feet. + +He picked it up and unfolded it. “May I?” he asked with imploring eyes. + +Patty nodded and stood with drooping head while he read: + +“The three wishes of Patience Blake, surnamed Patty: + +“1--She wishes for a true and loyal lover whom she can love with all +her heart and soul. + +“2--She wishes she could go back to her old Kentucky home to live. + +“3--She wishes that Perdita’s prayer may be granted.” + +Robert came nearer and laid the paper on a projecting ledge. “Glad +Lady,” he said, “the first part of your first wish has come true; he is +before you.” + +There should be no defying of fate, no wasted moments this time, Patty +quickly determined. She held out her hands: “And the second part has +come true, too,” she answered. + +He clasped her hands and held them close against his breast as if +he would never let them go, and they stood there looking into one +another’s eyes till they were brought back to a consciousness of where +they were by a laughing voice saying: “Shocking! Awful badth form!” and +looking up they beheld Tomás at the entrance of the cave. + +“Tomás! Tomás!” Patty sprang forward to meet him. “When did you come? +What a surprise! and are you two together?” She looked at Robert. “Oh, +how good this is.” + +“Yes, as chance would have it we crossed on the same steamer,” Robert +told her, “and instead of going to England I came to Spain.” + +“And have you seen Perdita?” Patty turned to Tomás. + +A little cloud of disappointment came over the young man’s face. “Not +yet,” he acknowledged. “She has gone to Llanes and will not return till +evening, I discovered. Martina thought we might find you here so Don +Roberto searched the caves while I climbed around outside.” + +“It does me good to see you again. Ah, Tomás, there will be no +returning for you now, I think.” + +“I do not know; I am no match for the wealthy daughter of Don Felipe,” +he answered modestly. + +“Oh, but wealth is nothing; it should never come in the way of +happiness, and true love should not stand at so poor a thing as money.” + +Robert’s hand stole out and found hers to give it a tender clasp, and +in the semi-darkness of the cave with no one but Tomás to see, she did +not in the least mind. Good Tomás, however, appreciated the fact that +this was a time when he might well be absent and making the excuse that +he had not yet seen his brother, he left them to come home alone. + +“And were you really on your way to England?” Patty asked her lover. + +“Yes, beloved.” + +“And would you have made up with your grandfather and have married Miss +Moffatt?” + +For an answer he caught her in his arms and kissed her lips, her eyes, +her hair. “Don’t, don’t,” he cried. “When I think that it might have +been so, that I might have lost you by so slight a chance I am nearly +mad.” + +Patty gave a long sigh and nestled closer. “But you haven’t lost me and +I haven’t lost you. Isn’t it wonderful? Were you unhappy? Tell me.” + +“Heaven knows there was never one more wretched than I who cursed the +day I landed in Spain, and when I shook its dust from my feet I said I +would never touch its shores again.” + +“And was it Tomás who urged you to come back?” + +“It was he who gave me hope. I told him I had heard he was open to +congratulations and he thought I meant Perdita, so he told me the whole +story, then I knew that neither he nor Don Felipe stood in my path and +I thought maybe there would be a chance to win you if I came back.” + +Patty drew herself away. “And I flew right to you. I didn’t give you +a chance to try. But I, too, have been so unhappy. Oh, why did you go +right off that day? Oh, you don’t know how unhappy I was when I knew +you had gone.” + +He gathered her to him again. “Darling girl, to think you should have +been made unhappy is the worst part of it, but your dear sister in +all innocence gave me to believe that all was settled between you and +Tomás, and my own doubts and fears helped the conclusion. You were so +ready to make excuses not to see me that morning, so chary of letting +me believe that I had the least place in your regard that I could only +determine to find out from your sister what I could, and if the fates +were against me to go, and go quickly.” + +“And was it Tomás who told you how it was Tina thought as she did? I +was a silly little goose to tease her so, and to behave like such a +witch of contrariness. Yet,” she said, after a pause, “I think it has +done me good; I don’t believe I am quite such a harum-scarum as I was. +What did Tina say when she saw you?” + +“She welcomed me right royally, and as if to make amends for having so +misled me she did insinuate that she thought you would be very glad to +see me if I were to hunt you up. Were you glad?” + +“Did I look particularly annoyed? I was the gladdest of glad ladies +ever was. But you are becoming entirely too inquisitive. We must go +back and tell Tina that the first wish has come true. But first you +must show me your wishes.” + +A second piece of paper was drawn from the hollow and handed over for +Patty’s scrutiny. It read thus: + +“I, Robert Lisle, ask that the kind _inxanos_ grant me: + +“1--The love of Patience Blake; + +“2--A return to the land we both love; + +“3--Such success as may make me able to give ease, comfort, and +happiness to said Patience Blake when she shall be my wife.” + +“Shall we put them back?” Patty asked, as with tender eyes she looked +up from the reading. + +“I should like you to give me yours.” + +“And I am simply crazy to keep yours.” + +“Then why not?” + +“Why not indeed? Abracadabra! Appear, _inxanos_! Whether visible or +invisible to us, accept our thanks, and we’ll keep the papers, please. +Do you hear any underground murmurs or see a cloud of smoke?” She +turned to Robert. + +“No, but no doubt they heard.” + +“Then we’ll go.” + +Back through the leafy road they walked, and if they stopped at certain +well-remembered points who can blame them? At the gate they parted, +Robert promising to return later when he had seen his luggage safely +carried to the _fonda_. + +Patty with dancing step ran upstairs to her sister. “And what will you +give me for my news?” she asked. + +Doña Martina smiled. “Your news is written on your face, my dear,” +she replied. “There is no need to tell it. And are you happy, little +sister?” + +Patty knelt down and put her arms around the other’s waist, looking +up into her face with eyes all alight. “I am just as happy as I was +miserable. I am so happy I am almost frightened.” + +“And what will you give for my news?” asked Doña Martina, looking down +and smoothing away the dark locks with a gentle finger. + +“Have you news, too?” + +“Yes, and I think you will be happier still when you know it, or I am +much mistaken.” + +“Then tell it to me quick, although I am not sure that I shall not fly +out the window if more joy comes.” + +“What would you say if I were to tell you that Juan had accepted the +offer to enter into partnership with a medical friend of his, an +elderly man who will soon wish to retire and wants a younger man to +help him now with his practice, and that the city where he lives is +Cincinnati?” + +“Oh, Tina, so near our own Kentucky. Why, it is almost like being in +the same state. You could really live in Kentucky if you wanted, I +suppose.” + +“No, we must live in Cincinnati, for Dr. Vargas wishes us to take up +our home in his house. He is a widower who has no family, and it seems +as if it might be the best thing to do. He was a friend of Juan’s +father and has always taken an interest in him.” + +“It sounds very promising. I am glad for Juan, and for you, too, dear.” + +“I hope we shall not be far apart, though I don’t know what your +Robert’s plans are.” + +“My Robert! Oh, Tina, how wonderful that you can say that truly. I +don’t know anything but that he is my Robert.” + +Her sister laughed. “You impractical children! And you have no idea +whether he wishes to carry you off to the wilds of South Africa or to +the frozen regions of Siberia, I suppose; it would be all the same to +you.” + +“Weren’t you just that way yourself, once upon a time?” + +“Oh, yes, my dear, I admit it, and I acknowledge that even now that I +am a prosy old married woman I would follow my leader to the ends of +the earth.” + +“Then don’t say a word about my being impractical. You can go and ask +Robert anything you choose and be perfectly sure that wherever he goes +it will be home to me.” + +Her sister shook her head. “I never expected you to go to such lengths, +yet I might have known. Well, my blessed child, I will satisfy my +sisterly curiosity on the subject, hoping he will not take you utterly +beyond my reach.” + +Tomás did not appear till the next day, though Patty heard him stealing +up the stairs after she had gone to her own room, too happy to waste +the blissful hours in sleep. It was a radiant face which met hers when +she looked over her balcony after having taken her morning coffee. +“Well, Tomás,” she said banteringly, “why do you look so woebegone? I +never saw such a dismal countenance. I will come down and cheer you up, +for I am sure you need it.” + +Tomás laughed. “You look a gladth ladthy yourself,” he said, waving his +hand. “Come down, come down and let us dance and sing together.” + +She ran down to the garden and held out her hand to him. “Good morning, +Tomás, it does seem like old times to see you here. I am so glad to +have you back again, and how is Perdita?” + +“Well, so well, but not the leetle childth I left. Is she not +wondtherful as a grand ladthy?” + +“She truly is. And are you disappointed to find her so?” + +“No, for the heart has not changed, the fine golden heart of her, it is +the same.” + +“And you are not thinking of leaving her again, I hope. Let us go to +the summer-house and have one of our old talks, but oh, what a happy +talk it will be, Tomás, not like those last sorry ones.” + +The birds were twittering as of old in the branches above the arbor, +and the pigeons still sought it in search of chance crumbs, when the +two took their old places. “No, I shall not return,” said Tomás. +“Perdita will need me, she says, to help her look after these estates +of hers, and she say, why not I as well as a stranger? She tell me she +need me more as before.” + +“I think she does, and I am very glad you are to stay.” + +“I am first to complete the business for which I am leaving Mexico, +and when is complete I am say the gentlemans then, I resign myself +the position you so kindly make to me, for I wish not again leave my +country. I am remain here with my wife eternally. Then I am no longer +torturated with the illness of home. I am happy with my Perdita, my +mountains, my sea.” + +“And when will you marry?” + +“As soon as is respectable after the losings of the father of Perdita. +She wish not I leave her to trouble of lawyer and paper.” + +“And so the _palacio_ will be ready for a bride after all, but how glad +I am, Tomás, that it will be your bride and not Don Felipe’s.” + +“It is because of our friend Pattee that all is. We have say many time +how we bless you as one who is angel.” + +“Glad Lady! Glad Lady,” a voice interrupted them. “Oh, here you are +in the old place. Don’t leave us, Tomás. I will have a cigarette with +you. Good morning, you two, and what are you plotting now? I suppose I +may conjecture that the talk has been on the same old subject,” said +Robert, sitting down by Patty’s side. + +“The subject is the same, but you should see Tomás’s fiancée now; she +is more beautiful than ever,” Patty told him. + +“I shall see her soon I hope. Well, little girl, I have been under +a fire of questions from Doña Martina. Must you go, Tomás, to the +_palacio_? Ah, well, we will not keep you. _Vaya V. con Dios._” He laid +his hand over Patty’s and looked down at her with a proud expression. +“Beloved,” he said, “your sister tells me I should let you know my +plans, that it is all very well to live in the clouds sometimes, but +one must descend once in a while, and so I am sure you will be glad to +know how I am going back to Kentucky with you all.” + +“Oh, Robert, to live always?” + +“Always, I hope. Those mines in the West will call me away for a time +but I think I shall do well to settle in the States and there is no +reason why we shouldn’t make Kentucky our home, even if we must go away +from it sometimes.” + +“Ah, if it could be the dear home I left.” + +“Why not?” + +“Could it be? Half is mine, of course.” + +“And the other half can be mine, I hope, for your sister and brother +and I have been talking hard, straight business, and that is how we +settled it, if the plan meets your approval.” + +“Bless the _inxanos_!” Patty cried. “They have granted all our wishes.” + +He drew her close to him. Before their eyes arose the vision of an old +garden, green with box hedges and rose sweet, along its borders they +two should walk till the setting of life’s sun. + + + THE END + + + + +Transcriber’s Note: + +Words and phrases in italics are surrounded by underscores, _like +this_. Nine misspelled words were corrected. ‘I know’ was added +to the phrase “... all I know is you won’t have to live...” +Unprinted punctuation at ends of sentences and missing diacriticals +were added. Two excess commas and one duplicated word were deleted. + + + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 76495 *** diff --git a/76495-h/76495-h.htm b/76495-h/76495-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..f433f63 --- /dev/null +++ b/76495-h/76495-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,10351 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html> +<html lang="en"> +<head> + <meta charset="UTF-8"> + <title> + The Glad Lady | Project Gutenberg + </title> + <link rel="icon" href="images/cover.jpg" type="image/x-cover"> + <style> + +body { + margin-left: 10%; + margin-right: 10%; +} +/* Heading Styles */ + h1,h2,h3,h4 { + text-align: center; + text-indent: 0em; + clear: both; + font-weight: bold; + page-break-before: avoid;} + +h1 { /* use for book title */ + margin: 1em 5% 1em; + font-size: 180%;} +h2 { /* use for chapter headings */ + margin:2em 5% 1em; + font-size: 160%;} +h3 { margin: 1em 5% 1em; + font-size: 140%;} +h4 { margin: 2em 5% 1em; + font-size: 120%;} + +.nobreak {page-break-before: avoid;} /* use with h2 for epubs */ + +div.chapter {page-break-before: always; + margin-top: 4em;} + +/* Paragraph styles */ +p {text-indent: 1.25em; + margin-top: .51em; + text-align: justify; + margin-bottom: .49em; + line-height: 115%;} +.p4 {margin-top: 4em;} +.right {text-align: right; margin-right: 6em;} +.tall {line-height: 150%;} +.center {text-align: center; + text-indent: 0em;} + +/* Font styling */ +.smcap {font-style: normal; font-variant: small-caps;} +.allsmcap {font-variant: small-caps; text-transform: lowercase;} +em {font-style: italic;} +.smaller {font-size: 83%;} +.muchsmaller {font-size: 75%;} +.muchlarger {font-size: 150%;} +.ls {letter-spacing: .25em; + margin-right: -0.25em;} +.caption {text-align: center; + font-variant: small-caps; text-transform: lowercase; + page-break-before: avoid; + margin-bottom: 1em;} +.cursive {font-family: cursive; font-weight:normal;} + +abbr { border:none; text-decoration:none; font-variant:normal; } + +/* Links */ +a:visited {text-decoration:none; color: red;} +a:link {text-decoration:none;} /* no UL of links - for accessibility */ + +/* Rules */ +hr { /*default rule across entire width */ + margin-top: .75em; + margin-bottom: .75em; + margin-left: auto; + margin-right: auto; + clear: both; +} + + hr.short { + margin-right:45%; + margin-left:45%; + text-align:center; + width:10%; + } + +hr.chap {width: 65%; margin-left: 17.5%; margin-right: 17.5%;} +@media print { hr.chap {display: none; visibility: hidden;}} + +/* Images */ +img { + max-width: 100%; + height: auto; +} + +.figcenter10{margin: 0 40%;} /* for colophon */ + +.figcenter { + margin: auto; + text-align: center; + page-break-inside: avoid; + max-width: 100%; +} + +/* Tables */ +table { + margin-left: auto; + margin-right: auto; + text-align: center; + border-spacing: 0; +} + +.tdl {text-align: left; padding-right: 2em;} +.tdr {text-align: right; padding-right: 2em;} +.tdc {text-align: center;} +.tdh {text-align: left; /* hanging indent */ + padding-left: 2em; + text-indent: -2em;} +.vlb {vertical-align: bottom;} + +table.a {text-decoration:none;} /* no UL of links inside table*/ + +.pagenum { + visibility: hidden; + position: absolute; + left: 92%; + font-size: 50%; + text-align: right; + font-style: normal; + font-weight: normal; + font-variant: normal; + text-indent: 0;} + +.outerbox {border: solid .1em; + margin-left: 0%; + margin-right: 0%; + padding: 1em 1em;} + +.box {border: solid .1em; + margin-left: 2%; + margin-right: 2%; + padding: 1em 1em;} + + </style> + </head> +<body> +<div style='text-align:center'>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 76495 ***</div> + +<div class="figcenter"> + <a id="i_001"></a> + <br> + <img src="images/i_001.jpg" + alt="Frontispiece"> + <p class="caption">“PATTY CREPT BEHIND THE HEDGE AND WAITED.”</p> +</div><!--end figcenter--> + +<div class="chapter"><span class="pagenum" id="Page_1"></span> +<div class="outerbox"><!--outer box--> +<div class="box"><!--top box--> +<h1 class="cursive ls"><i>THE<br> +GLAD LADY</i></h1> +</div><!--end top box--> + +<div class="box"><!--middle box--> +<p class="center smaller"><i>BY</i></p> + +<p class="center"><span class="muchlarger"><i>AMY E. BLANCHARD</i></span><br> +<span class="smaller"><i>Author of “A Journey of Joy,” “Wits’ End,” etc.</i></span></p> + +<div class="figcenter10"> + <img src="images/colophon.jpg" + alt="colophon"> +</div><!--end figcenter--> +<br> +</div><!--end middle box--> + +<div class="box"><!--bottom box--> +<p class="center"><i>BOSTON<br> +DANA ESTES & COMPANY<br> +PUBLISHERS</i></p> +</div><!--end bottom box--> +</div><!--end outer box--> +</div><!--end chapter--> + + +<div class="chapter"> +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_2"></span></p> +<p class="center"> +<i>Copyright, 1910</i>,<br> +<span class="smcap">By Dana Estes & Company</span></p> +<hr class="short"> +<p class="center"><i>All rights reserved</i></p> + +<p class="center p4"><i>Presswork by</i><br> +<span class="ls allsmcap"><i>THE COLONIAL PRESS</i><br></span> +<i>C. H. Simonds & <abbr title="Company">Co.</abbr>, Boston, U.S.A.</i> +</p> +</div><!--end chapter--> +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + + +<div class="chapter"> +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_3"></span></p> +<p class="center tall"> +TO<br> +DOÑA MARTINA AND DON JUAN,<br> + +<span class="allsmcap">THOSE WELL-LOVED FRIENDS WHO HAVE MADE SPAIN<br> +FOR ME A HAPPY MEMORY, I DEDICATE THIS STORY</span> +</p> +<p class="right"> +A. E. B. +</p> +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + + +<div class="chapter"> +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_4"></span></p> +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_5"></span></p> +<h2 class="nobreak" id="CONTENTS">CONTENTS</h2></div> + +<table> +<tr class="muchsmaller"><td class="tdc">CHAPTER</td> + <td> </td> + <td class="tdr">PAGE</td></tr> + +<tr><td class="tdr"><abbr title="One">I.</abbr></td> + <td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">The Party Arrives</span></td> + <td class="tdr vlb"><a href="#CHAPTER_I">9</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td class="tdr"><abbr title="Two">II.</abbr></td> + <td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">A Mountain Town</span></td> + <td class="tdr vlb"><a href="#CHAPTER_II">21</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td class="tdr"><abbr title="Three">III.</abbr></td> + <td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">The Walk</span></td> + <td class="tdr vlb"><a href="#CHAPTER_III">35</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td class="tdr"><abbr title="Four">IV.</abbr></td> + <td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">Antiquities</span></td> + <td class="tdr vlb"><a href="#CHAPTER_IV">48</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td class="tdr"><abbr title="Five">V.</abbr></td> + <td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">My Old Kentucky Home</span></td> + <td class="tdr vlb"><a href="#CHAPTER_V">61</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td class="tdr"><abbr title="Six">VI.</abbr></td> + <td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">The Day of San Juan</span></td> + <td class="tdr vlb"><a href="#CHAPTER_VI">76</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td class="tdr"><abbr title="Seven">VII.</abbr></td> + <td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">The Inxanos</span></td> + <td class="tdr vlb"><a href="#CHAPTER_VII">90</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td class="tdr"><abbr title="Eight">VIII.</abbr></td> + <td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">A Romeria</span></td> + <td class="tdr vlb"><a href="#CHAPTER_VIII">105</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td class="tdr"><abbr title="Nine">IX.</abbr></td> + <td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">Only a Donkey</span></td> + <td class="tdr vlb"><a href="#CHAPTER_IX">119</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td class="tdr"><abbr title="Ten">X.</abbr></td> + <td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">Santa Maria Marina</span></td> + <td class="tdr vlb"><a href="#CHAPTER_X">133</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td class="tdr"><abbr title="Eleven">XI.</abbr></td> + <td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">Gipsies</span></td> + <td class="tdr vlb"><a href="#CHAPTER_XI">148</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td class="tdr"><abbr title="Twelve">XII.</abbr></td> + <td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">Tomás Tells</span></td> + <td class="tdr vlb"><a href="#CHAPTER_XII">163</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td class="tdr"><abbr title="Thirteen">XIII.</abbr></td> + <td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">The Long White Road</span></td> + <td class="tdr vlb"><a href="#CHAPTER_XIII">178</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td class="tdr"><abbr title="Fourteen">XIV.</abbr></td> + <td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">The Silver Merchant</span></td> + <td class="tdr vlb"><a href="#CHAPTER_XIV">192</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td class="tdr"><abbr title="Fifteen">XV.</abbr></td> + <td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">A Lonely Hill</span></td> + <td class="tdr vlb"><a href="#CHAPTER_XV">206</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td class="tdr"><abbr title="Sixteen">XVI.</abbr></td> + <td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">By Reason of Saint Anthony</span></td> + <td class="tdr vlb"><a href="#CHAPTER_XVI">221</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td class="tdr"><abbr title="Seventeen">XVII.</abbr></td> + <td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">Patty is Puzzled</span></td> + <td class="tdr vlb"><a href="#CHAPTER_XVII">235</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td class="tdr"><abbr title="Eighteen">XVIII.</abbr></td> + <td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">Waiting</span></td> + <td class="tdr vlb"><a href="#CHAPTER_XVIII">249</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td class="tdr"><abbr title="Nineteen">XIX.</abbr></td> + <td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">Don Felipe’s Surprise</span></td> + <td class="tdr vlb"><a href="#CHAPTER_XIX">264</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td class="tdr"><abbr title="Twenty">XX.</abbr></td> + <td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">The Three Wishes</span></td> + <td class="tdr vlb"><a href="#CHAPTER_XX">281</a></td></tr> +</table> +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_6"></span></p> +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_7"></span></p> + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + + +<div class="chapter"> +<h2 class="nobreak" id="LIST_OF_ILLUSTRATIONS">LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS</h2></div> + +<table> +<tr><td colspan="2" class="tdr muchsmaller">PAGE</td></tr> + +<tr><td class="tdh">“<span class="smcap">Patty crept behind the hedge and waited</span>” + (<a href="#Page_236">page 236</a>)</td> + <td class="tdr vlb"><a href="#i_001"><i>Frontispiece</i></a></td></tr> + +<tr><td class="tdh">“‘<span class="smcap">He says I am a glad lady</span>’”</td> + <td class="tdr vlb"><a href="#i_032">33</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td class="tdh">“‘<span class="smcap">Don’t you get homesick?</span>’”</td> + <td class="tdr vlb"><a href="#i_070">70</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td class="tdh">“<span class="smcap">Perdita</span>”</td> + <td class="tdr vlb"><a href="#i_086">86</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td class="tdh">“‘<span class="smcap">What are you beating that donkey for?</span>’”</td> + <td class="tdr vlb"><a href="#i_120">120</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td class="tdh">“‘<span class="smcap">At your feet, ladies</span>’”</td> + <td class="tdr vlb"><a href="#i_186">186</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td class="tdh">“‘<span class="smcap">Glad Lady!</span>’”</td> + <td class="tdr vlb"><a href="#i_286">286</a></td></tr> +</table> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_8"></span></p> + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + + +<div class="chapter"><h2 class="nobreak" id="THE_GLAD_LADY">THE GLAD LADY</h2></div> +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_9"></span></p> +<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_I">CHAPTER <abbr title="One">I</abbr></h2> +<h3>THE PARTY ARRIVES</h3> + + +<p>It was at San Sebastian that the various members +of the party became an integral. When separated +they were quite as dissimilar as the constituent +parts of certain chemical combinations. The company +was headed by Dr. Juan Estradas who, when +a lad, had rushed to the war in Cuba, had later +gone to the United States to study medicine and had +there married an American girl, known in this tale +as Doña Martina. Number three is represented by +Don Tomás, the doctor’s younger brother, who, +having always remained upon Spanish soil, spoke +no language but Castilian, unless the two expressions, +“Shocking” and “Awful badth form,” may +be said to display some knowledge of English. +Number four may be discerned in the person of +Miss Patience Blake, commonly known as Patty, +the pretty sister of Doña Martina. A schoolmate +of Miss Patty’s, one Paulette Delambre, completes +the number.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_10"></span> +The two girls had just arrived from a convent +in France, where they had been learning various +branches supposed to be useful to young ladies: a +little embroidery, some music and water-color +sketching; to these, in Patty’s case, was added +French. Neither girl knew more than three words +of Spanish and generally addressed one another in +French, although Paulette spoke English fairly +well. They had but just reached their hotel, Patty +in a heated frame of mind because the customs officers +at Irun had kept them so long over their luggage +that they had nearly missed their train, and +furthermore had questioned the presence of so +many new frocks.</p> + +<p>“They actually assailed my veracity,” she explained +to her sister, “and it didn’t help a bit when +some one said that probably they thought we were +dressmakers. Do we look like dressmakers, I want +to know? I wish we had never seen your stupid +old Spain.”</p> + +<p>She turned to Don Tomás, who simply beamed +upon her, not understanding a word she said. But +seeing a fitting occasion to air his English, +he remarked, “Shocking! Awful badth form.” +Then every one laughed, which cleared the air, and +the five entered their hotel in better spirits.</p> + +<p>Patty’s first act, after reaching her room, was to +take off her hat and fluff out her dark hair; it was +Paulette who displayed rings of red gold about her +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_11"></span> +forehead and whose eyes were blue. “They always +take me for the French one,” remarked Patty, “and +Paulette is always supposed to be the American by +everyone but her own countrymen. It is rather +convenient sometimes, for I hear very free criticisms +of things United States. By the way, Tina, +you haven’t told us one word about your plans. +You simply wrote that we were to spend the summer +in the north of Spain and that I needn’t be +afraid of melting. You’ve prinked enough, Polly, +let me come.”</p> + +<p>“We shall stay for a day or two in San Sebastian,” +replied Doña Martina, “and then we shall go +further along the coast to a place in the mountains +or by the sea, whichever you choose to say. It is +one of the old family houses of the Estradas, and +the doctor thinks it will be an ideal spot to summer +in. We have spent a little time there and he is so +enthusiastic that I have become so, too. I hope +you all will like it, Patty.”</p> + +<p>Patty looked over her shoulder rather ruefully. +“What in the world can we find to do? Don’t tell +me I shall not have a chance to air my Paris +frocks.”</p> + +<p>“That is a small consideration,” said her sister. +“We shall have such air as you never breathed. +We shall see such scenery as will delight your soul, +and we shall do things we never did before.”</p> + +<p>“What things?” inquired Patty, pulling down her +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_12"></span> +belt and trying to look at the back of her trim figure.</p> + +<p>“Oh, we shall have a mountain pony or a burro +to take us junketing around to all the neighboring +villages; we shall go to all the fiestas, make a trip +to Covadonga; visit all the old churches and monasteries; +go fishing; take a daily dip in the sea if we +like, and—What more do you want, Patty?”</p> + +<p>“Men,” replied Patty sententiously.</p> + +<p>“Well, there is Tomás.”</p> + +<p>“I didn’t say <em>a</em> man, nor <em>the</em> man; I said men. +One man won’t go around when there are two +girls.”</p> + +<p>“You want too much,” replied her sister. +“However, I can’t say what you may find before +the summer is over. I’ll venture to say if there is +a desirable man within a radius of fifty miles he +will pop out of a cave or from the sea when you +come in sight; it is always that way.”</p> + +<p>Patty laughed. “Tell me about Don Tomás.”</p> + +<p>“I wrote to you all I know about him. Juan says +he is a single-hearted unspoiled boy. Remember, +Patty, that I have made my brother-in-law’s acquaintance +only within the last few days, and Juan +had not seen him for ten years till about a month +ago. He was only fourteen when his brother left +home.”</p> + +<p>“So he is twenty-four now. He is rather nice +looking, but I didn’t know Spaniards ever had red +hair. He might be an Irishman, or anything. I +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_13"></span> +am disappointed that he hasn’t melting dark eyes +and shining black hair.”</p> + +<p>“I should think you would like a contrast. You +see dark eyes and hair every time you look in the +glass, and that is often enough, heaven knows.”</p> + +<p>“You needn’t laugh, Polly,” said Patty, turning +to Paulette, who showed her appreciation of this +last remark by a gay little giggle. “There is one +thing consoling about it: he may like contrasts, and +unless he is already satiated with dark Spanish +types he perchance will admire little Patty Blake.”</p> + +<p>“He hasn’t a penny; at least he has very little,” +returned Doña Martina quickly.</p> + +<p>“That wouldn’t prevent his admiring me,” retorted +Patty calmly. “I didn’t say I wanted to +marry him offhand.”</p> + +<p>“You are a fleert incorrigible,” said Paulette, +coming into the conversation.</p> + +<p>“I am sure I don’t know where you have made +your observations, surely not at the convent,” Patty +remarked.</p> + +<p>“I use my ear, not my eye alone, and I am sorree +for zat nice young man.”</p> + +<p>“Oho!” Patty turned to look at her quizzically. +“I see I must be polishing up my armor. Come on, +girls, let us go down. Juan told us not to be too +long, and we want to see what we can of the outside +world before we go into retreat.”</p> + +<p>“You talk as if you were going back to the convent,” +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_14"></span> +said her sister. “You know it will not be +like that. Weren’t you happy there, Patty?” She +put her arm affectionately across her sister’s +shoulder.</p> + +<p>“Oh, yes, happy enough, but one can get tired +even of a good thing. I am glad not to be going +back.”</p> + +<p>“I wish we could stay a long time here at San +Sebastian, if you would like that,” returned her +sister wistfully, “but you know we aren’t rich, +Patty, and this is a very expensive place for persons +of our means.”</p> + +<p>“Bless you, honey,” whispered Patty giving her +a hug; “I’m only fooling, Tina. I don’t really care +a rap about staying. I am sure it will be far nicer, +much more romantic, and distinctly more interesting +to go to that queer mountain place that nobody +ever hears about much less goes to. Don’t mind +my nonsense; I am only showing off before Polly. +Don’t you think she is rather nice considering that +she has money? Would you ever suspect it?”</p> + +<p>“She seems very nice, and, no, I shouldn’t suspect. +One doesn’t usually expect a fact of that +kind to be very apparent in one who is truly a lady, +you know.”</p> + +<p>“Of course. I know that, but she hasn’t any +people, you see, and doesn’t come of the aristocracy. +She has a stuffy old shopkeeping uncle or guardian +or something of that kind, but I never heard her +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_15"></span> +speak of anyone else belonging to her. She was +so delighted when you said she might come. She +is the nicest French girl of the whole bunch and +there were plenty to choose from at the convent. +I find, Tina, that it doesn’t make much difference +about nationality: it is just individuals.”</p> + +<p>“I’ve found that out, too,” responded Doña Martina, +“otherwise I should never have married +Juan.”</p> + +<p>“He is a dear,” Patty agreed, “so generous and +courteous, and the soul of honor.”</p> + +<p>“And he is so constant and faithful, dear soul. +Indeed, Patty, I might have gone far afield in many +a country and never have met a finer man.”</p> + +<p>“So glad you’re pleased, dear,” returned Patty +lightly. “Now, if you are ready, let us go down +and see the world, the flesh, and the devil.”</p> + +<p>“The world is out on the Esplanade; there is +plenty of flesh there, too, you will find, while, to +quote Emerson, ‘even the dear old devil is not far +off.’”</p> + +<p>Patty laughed and the sisters returned to the +room where they had left Paulette, then the three +descended to the corridor to find Don Juan and his +brother pacing up and down talking earnestly and +with many gestures. “Are they quarrelling already?” +asked Patty, pausing on the lower step and +looking after the two men.</p> + +<p>“Quarrelling? No, of course not,” Doña Martina +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_16"></span> +answered with a smile. “That is only a little +way they have when they are interested. It may +be only the weather of which they are talking.”</p> + +<p>“Never,” declared Patty. “I am enthusiastic +myself, but I never could get up such an intensity +of expression, such violence of action over such a +simple matter as the weather.”</p> + +<p>“You’re not a Spaniard,” returned her sister.</p> + +<p>“Let us ask them the subject of their discourse +and settle it at once,” proposed Patty; “it would be +interesting to know.”</p> + +<p>They advanced toward the two men, who now +hurried forward with apologies for not having seen +them sooner.</p> + +<p>“And what were you talking about that you +couldn’t see us?” Patty asked Don Juan.</p> + +<p>“What? Let me see, what. Simple matters +enough; of what we may be having for luncheon, +of the report that we shall have rain to-night.”</p> + +<p>Doña Martina brought her hands softly together. +“What did I tell you?” she exclaimed with a nod toward +her sister. “I said it might be the weather.”</p> + +<p>“Yes, but the other subject: luncheon, warranted +any amount of excitement,” returned Patty as they +all turned toward the dining-room.</p> + +<p>An hour later the party was included in the +throng which promenaded the Esplanade. To +Patty’s share fell Don Tomás as escort. “It is +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_17"></span> +very beautiful,” said the girl with a wave of the +hand toward the rock-encircled harbor.</p> + +<p>“Shocking,” replied Don Tomás with a desire to +say something his companion could understand.</p> + +<p>“Oh, no, not at all.” Patty turned to speak to +her sister. “Come here, Tina, and walk with us; +we need a translator.”</p> + +<p>Doña Martina joined the two.</p> + +<p>“Tell him,” said Patty, “that I will teach him +English if he will teach me Spanish.”</p> + +<p>Her sister bent a searching look upon the girl’s +innocently grave face. “Very well,” she said. +“He agrees,” she went on after a few words in +Spanish to her brother-in-law.</p> + +<p>“Is he delighted at my gracious suggestion? +He ought to be.”</p> + +<p>“Why, any more than you?”</p> + +<p>“Because he is a man.”</p> + +<p>“That is no reason.”</p> + +<p>“It is to me. All right, Tina, you may go back +to your husband. We shall get along now, no +doubt, since he knows what is expected of him.”</p> + +<p>“I shall walk with you two,” said Doña Martina +firmly. “You are not to be trusted.”</p> + +<p>“Oh nonsense! You can keep your stern eye +upon us all you like, but I shall be embarrassed if +you are listening to my faltering tongue lisping in +Castilian. Go back or Juan will be jealous.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_18"></span> +“What a silly speech. However, I will go because +I want to, and because it is reasonable to +believe you will get on better if I am not listening.”</p> + +<p>In a few minutes there was low laughter heard +from the two, who plunged into a halting conversation, +and it was evident that the progress was +pleasant if not rapid.</p> + +<p>It was a gay scene. Representatives from all +parts of the world joined in the crowd which +watched the bathers. Nurse-maids with their +charges, Spanish girls wearing mantillas, vendors +of all sorts, newsboys, American tourists, Englishmen, +Frenchmen, Moors, matadors, Spanish dons, +fat old ladies puffing along with waddling poodles, +fat old men with the visible expression of having +sacrificed normal proportions to good living, wicked +looking cavaliers with black moustachios, and in +their eyes the smouldering flames of burnt-out fires, +prattling children, innocent school-girls with their +governesses, romping school-boys passed and repassed +in endless parade. It was, as Patty said, a +corner of the universe where the world, the flesh +and the devil met.</p> + +<p>“And what did you learn from Tomás?” asked +Don Juan when they had returned.</p> + +<p>“I learned that <i lang="es">una señorita es maravillosa</i>.”</p> + +<p>“And he?”</p> + +<p>“Oh, he learned, ‘the aith of a ’orse.’”</p> + +<p>“Now, Patty,” put in her sister.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_19"></span>“Truly, Tina, he did.”</p> + +<p>“And nothing more?”</p> + +<p>“Ask him,” said Patty, walking away.</p> + +<p>Her sister followed. “Patty, I warned you that +he has not a penny, not a <i lang="es">perrono</i>.”</p> + +<p>“Did I say I wanted his <i lang="es">perronos</i> or even +<i lang="es">pesetas</i>?”</p> + +<p>“No, but—”</p> + +<p>“What?”</p> + +<p>“You mustn’t try to ensnare him.”</p> + +<p>“Do you care more for him than for me?”</p> + +<p>“Of course not, but I want to protect him.”</p> + +<p>“I thought you meant to be my chaperon. How +do you know but that I am the one who needs protection?”</p> + +<p>“I know you better than I do him.”</p> + +<p>“Then, my dear, wait till you know him better +before you take him under your sheltering wing. +He may be a wolf in sheep’s clothing, and I an innocent +lamb for all you know.”</p> + +<p>“He is a single-hearted, unspoiled boy, as I told +you, not one of those blasé creatures you might find +in Madrid or Paris, and you are not to make him +unhappy.”</p> + +<p>“Don’t you want me to have a good time?”</p> + +<p>“Not at the expense of someone else. I didn’t +think you were hard-hearted, Patty.”</p> + +<p>“And all this because I taught him to say ‘the +aith of a ’orse.’” Patty spoke in an injured tone.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_20"></span> +“If I could be sure that were all.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, my dear, would you have me confine his +English to that sentence only? When he really +wants to learn must he stop there? and must I +let him teach me nice things in Spanish while he +learns only Ollendorf English? I certainly would +be hard-hearted if I tried to be as mean as that. +Trust the young man to take care of himself. As +for me, like the pussy cat in the nursery rhyme, +‘if you don’t hurt her she’ll do you no harm.’ +Now, Tina, dear, don’t get into agonies over me. +I’m not as dreadful as I appear upon first sight, +and your dear little red-headed Tomás shall not +break his nice warm Spanish heart. I’ll be a good +girl, Tina, truly and—No I won’t tell you that, +it would be too great a blow to my self-esteem if +you should agree with me. I’ll tell Polly. Where +is she?”</p> + +<p>What she had to tell Paulette Tina did not find +out, but whatever it was, certain it appeared that +Paulette’s eyes fell before a stolen glance Tomás +gave her as she took her seat opposite him at table +that evening.</p> + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + + +<div class="chapter"> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_21"></span><h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_II">CHAPTER <abbr title="Two">II</abbr></h2> +<h3>A MOUNTAIN TOWN</h3></div> + + +<p>“Corn-fields!” cried Patty, looking from the window +as the train proceeded on its way toward +Bilbao. “We might almost think it our native +land.”</p> + +<p>“Not with a tenth century monastery in sight,” +returned her sister.</p> + +<p>“Quite true, but I hadn’t seen the tenth century +monastery when I spoke. Those are surely fig +trees. Where corn and apples grow can there be +figs? At least one doesn’t learn from our geographies +that they flourish together.”</p> + +<p>“They do here,” Don Juan told her. “You must +prepare to have more than one surprise, <i lang="es">hermana +mia</i>.”</p> + +<p>“I’m beginning to get them. What gorgeous +views. Spain is fine. I imagined it a dry and +arid plain with a weazened tree sticking up once in +a while out of the dust.”</p> + +<p>“It isn’t all like this,” her sister admitted, “but +you will have to confess that Asturias is wonderful.”</p> + +<p>“And Asturians?” with a sly glance at Tomás.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_22"></span> +Doña Martina frowned and Patty laughed gleefully, +while Tomás looked from one to the other +interrogatively. “She is a naughty child,” Doña +Martina told him in his own language.</p> + +<p>“She is a charming one nevertheless,” returned +Tomás in the same tongue.</p> + +<p>“What does <i lang="es">deleitosa</i> mean?” asked Patty, rapidly +turning over the leaves of the small dictionary +she carried.</p> + +<p>“It is not necessary to know,” replied Doña Martina, +in dignified reproof.</p> + +<p>“You look so funny when you purse up your lips +that way, Tina,” said Patty, “exactly as you used +when I was a little girl and would pick green gooseberries +from the bushes. You have always +thought you must be the one to bring me to task, +being ten years older. Oh, I have found the word. +Now, what must I say? <i lang="es">Gracias señor. Me gusto +mucho.</i> Is that right, Juan?” She turned to her +brother-in-law, who smiled an indulgent affirmative.</p> + +<p>“I shall beat you with my Spanish, Polly,” Patty +went on, “and I venture to say I shall learn it before +Don Tomás does English. I rather hope I may, +for it is so funny to hear him say goomans for +women, and moosilahga for mucilage. However, +I wish there were a language we both knew and +which you didn’t, Tina, then we certainly would +enjoy ourselves.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_23"></span> +“Do not listen to her, Doña Martina,” said Paulette, +“she does but to tease you.”</p> + +<p>“I do but to look out the window at present,” said +Patty. “See those stunning looking men. I +should say they were Englishmen.”</p> + +<p>“They probably are,” Don Juan told her. +“There are quite a number connected with the mines +in northern Spain. These may be mining engineers.”</p> + +<p>“Oh!” Patty watched the three well set up +figures approaching the train from the small station +at which they had just stopped. “Do you +know any of them, Juan?” she asked.</p> + +<p>“I have met two or three and have found them +very agreeable men. One sees them in Gijon or +Santander, but rarely in our little pueblo.”</p> + +<p>The train moved on, now passing a white village +cuddled in the hollow of a mountain, now by reason +of a twist in the road, suddenly disclosing a glimpse +of the sea overhung by bold promontories, again +affording a view of a gray convent perched high +on the top of a craggy height, then corn-fields +again offering little variety till a picturesque procession +of gipsies or a cow-cart led by a stalwart +mountaineer lent life to the scene.</p> + +<p>In the course of time Bilbao was reached, a night +was spent there and then the beaten path of the +tourist was left behind and the unfrequented roads +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_24"></span> +of Asturias were entered. From height to height, +from village to hamlet, the train wound its way, +until at last Tomás exclaimed, “Here we arrive,” +and springing to his feet he gathered the coats, +bags and umbrellas from the racks, and in a few +minutes the train had moved off, leaving the five +standing on the platform.</p> + +<p>Patty looked about her. “So this is it,” she said +to Paulette.</p> + +<p>“And it is in ze mountains as we are hoping. +Zey are on all side and how beautiful.”</p> + +<p>“It is beautiful and unlike anything I ever knew. +Now where do we go? Are we to walk or ride, +Tina?”</p> + +<p>“It is only a short walk to the <i lang="es">fonda</i> where we +are to stop for a few days while our house is being +made ready.”</p> + +<p>“<i lang="es">Fonda?</i> Oh, yes, that means the inn. And +when we get there shall we know it by any sign?”</p> + +<p>“No, there is nothing to distinguish it to the uninitiated, +but it is known to the people hereabouts +as <i lang="es">Fonda de Victor</i> on account of the man who +owns it.”</p> + +<p>“Pigs! Tina, I smell them.”</p> + +<p>“You may see them, for they are quite free to run +the streets, but that odor, my dear, is only oil, unrefined +oil, used by the peasants for cooking.”</p> + +<p>“It is ghastly.”</p> + +<p>“You won’t mind it after a while.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_25"></span> +“No, I believe I shall not.” Patty sniffed the +air. “Now I know what it really is, it doesn’t seem +so disagreeable. I recognize an olivish quality to +it, and it really is not so terrific as I imagined. +Such is the power of mind over matter. What’s +that awful noise? Why don’t they grease their +cart-wheels?”</p> + +<p>“My dear girl, they wouldn’t for the world,” Don +Juan hastened to say. “Do you see those little narrow +roads winding up the mountains? Suppose +one cow-cart should meet another without warning +what happens unless they know by the creak of +the wheels that another is coming? If they did not +hear how could they turn aside in the proper +place?”</p> + +<p>“They sound like the hugest kind of buzzing +creature. I suppose one gets used to it after a +while, but I do hope and trust they do not start +forth early in the morning or I foresee that my +morning nap is lost.”</p> + +<p>“They do start out rather early in the morning,” +Don Juan was obliged to confess, “but you will get +used to them, too.”</p> + +<p>“And is this the place, this long white building? +Isn’t it fascinating? though it is primitive with a +vengeance.”</p> + +<p>A dark-eyed, buxom woman came hurrying out +to meet them with many expressions of welcome, +and a timid little handmaid hovered in the background, +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_26"></span> +all interest to see the <i lang="es">Inglesas</i> and their +friend, Mlle. Delambre, less a person of importance. +The little <i lang="es">fonda</i> was scrupulously clean, the board +floors scrubbed white, though innocent of rug or +carpet, the beds were soft, the home-spun linen +fresh and sweet-smelling, the white-washed walls +showed no mark nor speck. The small <i lang="es">mirador</i> +faced the <i lang="es">plaza</i>, at once the center of the town and +the market-place. Here, too, took place any special +event, such as a comedia or a dance. Under the +wide-branched tree on one side was the village +fountain, whose constantly flowing stream sang a +little tune in a pleasant tinkle which told of clear +cold mountain sources from which the town was +abundantly supplied. There was scarce a cessation +of comings and goings from the fountain. Slim +girls with buckets poised on their heads, old women +who adjusted their circular pads carefully before +lifting their water jar to its place, tiny children +who carried their burdens unsteadily, but who, to +imitate their elders, before filling their small pails, +took up a handful of sand to scrub the vessel outside +and in, that it might always be bright and +shining. A fine odor of newly baked loaves came +from the bakery opposite and above the tap-tap of +the shoemaker upon his last arose his clear song +in some weird Asturian ballad. Beyond all, +against the bluest of skies, were the mountains.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_27"></span> +Patty leaned her elbows upon the railing of the +<i lang="es">mirador</i> and viewed it all.</p> + +<p>“How do you like it?” asked Paulette, coming +and putting an arm around her friend.</p> + +<p>“Immensely. And you?”</p> + +<p>“It is delightful. How primitive! How rural!”</p> + +<p>“Rural indeed. See that lordly pig grunting +around below there, and turkeys as I live, not to +mention a host of chickens and, oh, the dogs, what +a company of them. I see where those stale biscuits +go, the ones we bought on our way here and +couldn’t eat. Don’t you like these little balconies +with the flowers swinging from them? I hope +there are balconies at Juan’s house. There must +be, I suppose, for all Spanish houses seem to have +them.”</p> + +<p>“Where are we to hang our frocks?”</p> + +<p>“Oh, dear, where indeed? On the floor, I +reckon. We’d better not unpack much, only what +we shall need for a few days. Tina hopes we can +leave by the end of the week. It is too bad we +could not go at once to the house, but Juan says +this is the best <i lang="es">fonda</i> about and it is something of +a novelty to stay here.”</p> + +<p>“What must the others be?”</p> + +<p>“I can’t imagine, though there is nothing to complain +of here. I am sure it was not much better at +the convent. We lack clothes presses, to be sure. +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_28"></span> +They say the food is good, all oil, I suppose judging +from the odors now arising.”</p> + +<p>A gentle tap at the door interrupted them. “<i lang="es">Á +comer</i>,” said the little maid to whom they opened.</p> + +<p>“What do you suppose that means?” said Patty +looking at Paulette.</p> + +<p>“Dinner, perhaps.”</p> + +<p>Patty went through the motions of eating, looking +inquiringly at Consuelo who, though amused, +nodded gravely and beckoned them to follow her.</p> + +<p>They found Doña Martina, Don Juan and Tomás +seated at a long table where there were two +other guests, one a <i lang="es">viajante</i> or traveling man, the +other Patty concluded to be an Englishman. Nothing +could be more courteously polite than the +<i lang="es">viajante</i>. “He ate with his knife yet his attentions +to us might put a courtier to the blush,” Doña Martina +said afterward.</p> + +<p>Little Consuelo ran hither and thither, so anxious +for the <i lang="es">Inglesas</i> to be pleased that she watched +every mouthful they ate with an absorbed interest. +“As if,” said Patty, “the entire foundations of the +kingdom would totter if we failed to do justice to +each dish.”</p> + +<p>The <i lang="es">comedor</i> was the room in which first-class +guests alone were served. Below stairs in the wine +shop were tables for the second and third class +meals, these varying in quality according to the +price. Matilda herself, supervised all. Her loud +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_29"></span> +though kindly voice and her quick step were heard +when one passed near the kitchen, and woe be to +the <i lang="es">vaquero</i> who might royster too uproariously.</p> + +<p>The <i lang="es">viajante</i> conversed affably with Don Juan. +The Englishman made a single remark to Don +Tomás which, not being understood caused a lapse +into silence on the part of the Britisher. “I knew +he was English,” said Patty in a low voice to her +sister as the young man’s tall athletic figure disappeared +in the doorway. “I couldn’t be mistaken. He +is one of those whom we saw getting on the train +at Llanes I am sure. One of the kind of Englishman +whose chief ambition in life seems to be to look +more bored than any other Englishman. I wonder +why he didn’t vouchsafe a remark to some of us who +could speak his own language.”</p> + +<p>“Well, you see he was at the other end of the +table. Juan was speaking Spanish to the <i lang="es">viajante</i>, +Tomás and I were conversing in the same language +while you and Paulette were chattering in French.”</p> + +<p>“What’s he doing in Spain if he doesn’t speak +Spanish?”</p> + +<p>“The same thing that you are doing, perhaps.”</p> + +<p>Patty laughed at the retort. “Never mind, I +shall speak only in English to-morrow and then we +shall see. Why don’t you chide me, Tina? Reproof +is in order.”</p> + +<p>“Anything to keep you from luring Tomás into +your toils.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_30"></span> +“Oh, Tomás!” Patty gave a glance in that +young man’s direction. “Of course he counts, too. +I shall not be afraid of having to talk to both. +Paulette can have the traveling gentleman. Can +you and Juan go with us to hunt up a drug store? +There are some things we want. I suppose there is +one.”</p> + +<p>“I really don’t know, but I will ask Juan.”</p> + +<p>“Meantime I will have a lesson from Tomás, for +I do not mean to remain in ignorance of things I +might know when it depends upon a little study to +gain the knowledge.”</p> + +<p>As they left the <i lang="es">fonda</i> to follow the long white +road for a short distance they observed the Englishman +pacing up and down, taking the solace of his +pipe. “I know he is lonely, poor fellow,” remarked +Patty. “I don’t suppose Juan could invite him to +go with us, could he?”</p> + +<p>“Juan is not going with us; he has some letters to +write,” said Doña Martina shortly.</p> + +<p>“Did he tell you where to find the drug store?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, it is in the jail building.”</p> + +<p>“Heavens! what a combination. Healing for +bodily ills on one hand and punishment on the other. +And where is Tomás?”</p> + +<p>“He is helping Juan.”</p> + +<p>“Then we go alone, do we? Is it safe?”</p> + +<p>“Do you imagine that bandits are going to descend +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_31"></span> +upon us from the mountains? You couldn’t +be safer in your own room, and you’re far safer +than you would be at home. Come along, Patty, +and don’t be so silly.”</p> + +<p>“You see Paulette and I have been so used to being +Argus-eyed by a sister we don’t dare move without +one.”</p> + +<p>“And am I not sister enough?”</p> + +<p>“Oh, well, yes, but I can’t get accustomed to your +being a proper chaperon although you have tried to +serve in that capacity ever since I was born. You +don’t tell me this is the place? Why, it looks like a +plain stone house.”</p> + +<p>“Yes, I am sure this is the place.”</p> + +<p>“But there is no light.”</p> + +<p>“We will knock.” After some banging on the +door they heard footsteps coming down the stairs, +keys jingled and a bolt was drawn back, then a man +appeared, candle in hand. Evidently trade was not +so brisk as to require the constant presence of the +druggist in the shop. He ushered them into a queer +little place, fumbled sleepily around among the +shelves and finally produced the articles they +wanted, the door was locked and bolted after them +and they returned to the <i lang="es">fonda</i>. The whiff of a +pipe and the appearance of a figure which stepped +out of the shadow told them that the Englishman +was following.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_32"></span> +“I do believe he came behind us all the way,” +whispered Patty, “just to see that no harm befell us. +That was rather nice, I think.”</p> + +<p>“It was entirely unnecessary,” replied her sister, +“and I am not sure but that it was impertinent.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, Tina. I don’t believe that, do you, Paulette?”</p> + +<p>“It maybe was an impertinence,” said Paulette +after a little hesitation.</p> + +<p>“Oh bless me! How suspicious you are. Of +course it would necessarily be so in your country,” +returned Patty annoyed at this construction. “For +my part I think it was a nice knightly thing to do. +Quite like an American and a Southerner at that.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, dear me, Patty,” Doña Martina began, “if +you begin to create knights in this free and easy style +I don’t know where you will land. Give you a bone +and you will construct a mastodon any time.”</p> + +<p>“A little imagination is an excellent thing to have +in the family,” retorted Patty. “It comes in very +handily sometimes. I adore my imagination; I +wouldn’t be without it for the world. You and +Paulette are of the earth. My golden flower +of knighthood may be nothing but a yellow primrose +on the river’s brim to you, but oh, my heart, +who knows what it may prove to be in my eyes.”</p> + +<div class="figcenter"> + <a id="i_032"></a> + <br> + <img src="images/i_032.jpg" + alt="Glad Lady"> + <p class="caption">“‘HE SAYS I AM A GLAD LADY.’”</p> +</div><!--end figcenter--> + + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_33"></span> +“It may prove to be an inexpressible bore,” replied +her sister. “There come Tomás and Juan to +meet us.”</p> + +<p>“I’m glad of it. Now we can take a longer walk +in this lovely air. I feel the need of it after two +days of travel.”</p> + +<p>The party, reinforced by Don Juan and his +brother, wandered up the long windings of the little +village, white in the starlight. From over the high +walls of the gardens stole sweet odors, the tinkle +of a mandolin and the gay jangle of a tambourine +came from the <i lang="es">patio</i> of a small house. A couple of +strolling youths did not cease their song as they +passed, and when the party paused at the little +bridge which spanned a small stream leaping over +its pebbly bed, they could distinguish a murmur underlying +the more insistent sounds.</p> + +<p>“<i lang="es">Me gusta mucho</i>,” said Patty turning to +Tomás.</p> + +<p>“<i lang="es">Me alegro infinito</i>,” said Paulette, and Patty +found that Paulette likewise sought to take advantage +of opportunities, and that upon the garden of +her understanding were also falling the seeds of +knowledge.</p> + +<p>Yet so merry was Patty that Tomás with a slow +striving for English words, said, “You are always +a gladth ladthy, Miss Pattee.”</p> + +<p>Patty laughed. “Do you hear what your +brother calls me, Juan?” she asked. “He says I am +a glad lady.”</p> + +<p>“An excellent name for you,” Don Juan responded.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_34"></span> +“It suits her exactly, Tomás,” agreed Doña Martina.</p> + +<p>“She is always to laugh herself,” explained +Tomás. “She is so joyful.”</p> + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + + +<div class="chapter"> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_35"></span><h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_III">CHAPTER <abbr title="Three">III</abbr></h2> +<h3>THE WALK</h3></div> + + +<p>The next day the family dined alone. The +<i lang="es">viajante</i> with his big wagon drawn by sturdy mules +with gay trappings and jangling bells, had departed, +while the smoke of the Englishman’s pipe was no +longer wafted upon the air. “It seems sort of +lonely,” remarked Patty, “and I didn’t have a chance +to see my knight gallop off wearing my gage upon +his sleeve.”</p> + +<p>“Good reason why,” said Doña Martina: “he +went by train, and he would have looked well, +wouldn’t he, wearing a gage upon his sleeve? with +that bored look of his.”</p> + +<p>Patty sighed melodramatically. “I shall have to +give all my attention to Tomás then,” she said, “a +good thing for my Spanish, perhaps. I have a new +incentive, for I believe Paulette is trying to get +ahead of me; she reels off her sentences with an +<i>aplomb</i> positively appalling. I’ve been devoting +myself to those dreadful verbs, you see, while she +has been increasing her vocabulary. Shall I ever +compass <i lang="es">Ser</i> and <i lang="es">Estar</i>, do you believe?”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_36"></span> +“I shouldn’t try to at once. Much better adopt +Paulette’s method.”</p> + +<p>“So I shall from henceforth, and I’ll plunge in +boldly without waiting to be exact. I know it is +the best way, but I am so proud and conscientious, +you know.”</p> + +<p>“I am aware of the pride, but I have yet to be impressed +by the conscientiousness.”</p> + +<p>“You are too mean for words, Tina. To think +that you should enjoy abusing your poor little sister +in the way that you do is dreadful, and when she +has just escaped from the rigors of a convent too.”</p> + +<p>“My poor little sister thrives under the abuse, it +seems.”</p> + +<p>“You always take everyone’s part against me. +One would suppose, for example, that Tomás was +your sure enough brother and I only your sister-in-law.”</p> + +<p>Doña Martina was silent for a moment, feeling +there was some truth in the remark. “Well, you +see,” she began, “I don’t want you to throw yourself +away on a poor man like Tomás. I am afraid +you would not be happy if you married him.”</p> + +<p>“I’m not marrying him.”</p> + +<p>“You might.”</p> + +<p>“Well, suppose I should. I’m sure we could get +along. Haven’t you been telling me that one can +rent a nice little house for forty dollars a year, hire +a servant for three or four dollars a month and buy +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_37"></span> +a donkey for seven? What more could one ask? +It is a paradise for poor people from your own account. +Why shouldn’t I settle down here, too, to a +love-in-a-cottage existence? I should think you +would be delighted to have me for a neighbor.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, Patty dear, so I should.” Her sister came +over and took the girl’s face between her hands. +“I never know when you are serious, dear. You +talk so much nonsense. If you were really to fall +in love, you two, and could be happy living that way, +why of course—”</p> + +<p>Patty laughed gleefully. “Oh, you darling old +thing! Of course I am not serious. I couldn’t +stand it, not even to be near you. I should die of +the blues when winter came.”</p> + +<p>“But winter here is not dreary a bit. The flowers +bloom in the garden all the year around; you +should see the geraniums—and if one has a few +friends they are enough. Of course we came here +originally for Juan’s health. After that dreadful +illness of his last winter it seemed the best thing to +do and he pined for his native air. You see how +much good it has done him; he is quite another man, +and as long as it makes him happy to stay I shall not +say a word.”</p> + +<p>“I fancy he will get tired of it after a while and +will want a broader field for his energies.”</p> + +<p>“Perhaps, but I shall try to be content either way. +At least,” she added after a pause, “I shall be while +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_38"></span> +I have you with me. There is such freedom from +the rush and worry of a big city and we can live on +so very little. Then, too, it is such a pleasure for +Juan and Tomás to be near one another after the +long separation.”</p> + +<p>“What did Tomás do before you all came?”</p> + +<p>“Oh, he had an old housekeeper who did very well +for him, and he has his friends both here and in the +towns near by.”</p> + +<p>“Fancy my ever marrying a Spaniard,” said Patty +after a moment’s silence.</p> + +<p>“No one could be truer, more faithful and honorable +than my husband. Spaniards are much like +other folk, there are good and bad among them; so +far I have found the good to predominate. Do you +find all our own countrymen absolutely blameless? +The Spaniards are proud, to be sure.”</p> + +<p>“I’ve been looking for that far-famed Spanish +pride,” said Patty, “but up to the present I have discovered +only the frankest conceit, and have been +wondering if that passes for pride.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, conceit isn’t confined to Spaniards. I’d like +you to find anything more conceited than an out and +out American or Englishman?”</p> + +<p>“Not in just the same way. There is a childishness +about the Spaniard’s conceit.”</p> + +<p>“Which makes it much more endurable.”</p> + +<p>“Dear me, how we do argue in and out, first on +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_39"></span> +one side and then on the other. All right, Tina, +I’ll consider it.”</p> + +<p>“Don’t you make Tomás unhappy, that is all I +ask. I don’t want you to get him into your toils +and then drop him.”</p> + +<p>“How can I tell anything about him unless I do +get him into my toils as you express it?”</p> + +<p>“Oh, go ’long, you foolish child; you are too much +for me.”</p> + +<p>“I’m too much for myself sometimes,” confessed +Patty. She went to the window and began dropping +bits of biscuit to the turkey-hen below, who +turned a mild eye upward and solicited the alms in +a little cooing voice. “I never knew that turkey-hens +had such lovely eyes,” remarked Patty; “this +one is quite fascinating which is more than I can +say of the pig. Oh, come here, Tina, and see these +beauty parrots, two of them. A man has brought +them out from the next house and has set them free +on the <i lang="es">plaza</i>. They are walking all about and are +so funny.”</p> + +<p>“The <i lang="es">plaza</i> is the place where everything goes +on,” returned her sister. “It is a very diverting +place, I find. There comes Juan walking as if an +idea had suddenly cropped up in his cranium.”</p> + +<p>“He is not coming at such a pace as warrants us +to think there is anything very exciting on hand.”</p> + +<p>“His pace is quite energetic for a Spaniard. +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_40"></span> +Don’t you know, my dear, that it is very inelegant +to seem hurried in Spain? If you wish to be considered +a lady of quality, you must merely saunter; +never seem in a hurry to get anywhere.”</p> + +<p>“Oh dear, and I do love to fly along. I like to +walk with vim and take my exercise as if I enjoyed +it.”</p> + +<p>“Don’t do it in Spain. Well?” Doña Martina +leaned over to speak to her husband who had paused +beneath the balcony. “Would we like to go to a +peasant’s home to see an ancient loom? A patient +of yours? Old Antonia? Why, I am sure we +should like it. You would wouldn’t you, Patty?”</p> + +<p>“I’d delight in it. Where’s Polly? I know she +will be ready for any sort of outing.”</p> + +<p>“We can come around by the <i lang="es">playa</i> if you care to +walk so far,” Don Juan told them as the three joined +him below stairs.</p> + +<p>“And what is the <i lang="es">playa</i>, please?” asked Paulette.</p> + +<p>“The seashore, the beach.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, do let us go there. I have been crazy to see +it,” said Patty. “We can walk any distance, can’t +we, Polly?”</p> + +<p>“Oh, yes, to be sure. I, too, wish to see the sea, +that bay of Biscay of which we hear so much.”</p> + +<p>“It is really just like the sea, I suppose, for the bay +is only a part of the ocean curving down a little towards +Spain. Is this where the weaver lives?”</p> + +<p>“Yes. She weaves only very coarse linen for +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_41"></span> +household use, but the loom is a very old one which +has been in use a hundred years at least; no one +knows how long, and the house, too, is quite well +worth seeing as a type of those in which the peasants +live. You will not think them so badly housed. +Antonia is poor, but you will see she has certain +comforts.”</p> + +<p>“And where is Tomás?” asked Patty.</p> + +<p>“He is coming. He went to the post-office and +will meet us here.” The visit to the weaver was soon +over. While the girls examined the loom the doctor +made his call upon his patient, then Don Tomás +joined them and up the long <i lang="es">carretero</i> they sauntered. +Once in a while a light-hearted teamster +passed them, lolling back in his wagon and singing +some weird song whose final note poised and echoed +long after the sound of the wagon wheels ceased. +Then, too, they met brown peasant women carrying +burdens upon their heads which did not prevent +them from giving a “<i lang="es">Buenos tardes</i>,” or a “<i lang="es">Vaya V. +con Dios</i>.” A little maid minding a couple of sheep, +a goat, and a cow as they cropped the wayside grass, +interested Patty. “Do they allow that?” she asked. +“I mean, why doesn’t everyone herd their cows and +sheep along the road?”</p> + +<p>“Juana’s family have been granted special privileges,” +Doña Martina answered. “You will find +some odd customs here.”</p> + +<p>“Here we turn off,” said Don Juan. “The old +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_42"></span> +house just ahead is the one to which we go next. In +former times it was occupied by a bishop, and there +are interesting inscriptions over the doors and windows. +It is an extremely old house and has withstood +the attacks of war.”</p> + +<p>“What war?” asked Paulette.</p> + +<p>“I am sorry to say it was your own nation which +committed the outrages of which you can see many +evidences in this part of the country.”</p> + +<p>A flight of stone steps led to the dimly lighted +room at the doorway of which they were met by a +dignified old woman who ushered them in with the +air of one accustomed to receive honorable guests. +The room was of good size but showed the ravages +of time. It was simply furnished, though some rare +old chests showed fine carvings, the wooden seats +would have delighted an antiquarian, while the +ancient windows and casements permitted no doubt +of the extreme age of the house. All was neat and +orderly, but the utmost simplicity prevailed. The +kitchen utensils of copper and brass shone brightly, +and there were a few specimens of old pottery on the +shelves, but no more than necessity demanded.</p> + +<p>Patty looked with interest upon the primitive fireplace. +“It is exactly the same kind of thing you can +imagine Sarah cooked Abraham’s dinner upon,” +she remarked. “How do they manage it? It +looks just like an altar.”</p> + +<p>“The fire is kindled on the top of the—altar as +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_43"></span> +you call it, and the food is cooked over that,” her +sister told her.</p> + +<p>“Isn’t it primitive?”</p> + +<p>“Very, but it is wonderful what a variety of food +can be cooked in that simple manner, and it is more +surprising that it is cooked so well.”</p> + +<p>“Is that the only kind of stove you have in your +kitchen?”</p> + +<p>“About the same.”</p> + +<p>“Good! then I shall see how it is used and when I +keep house in Spain I shall not be at a loss if my +cook leaves suddenly.”</p> + +<p>Her sister shook her head at this offending speech +and turned her attention to Paulette who was examining +the rudely hewn timbers, black with age. +Old Francesca was pouring out her woes into Don +Juan’s sympathetic ears. She was bent with rheumatism, +for the cure of which she had offered +candles to the saints in vain. “She belongs to a +good old family,” Don Juan told them as they came +away, “but they became impoverished, and now +Francesca has not the comforts she needs. She +has to work in the fields and that is not good for +her.”</p> + +<p>“That old woman?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, you may see her and her sister in the haying +season bringing in all the hay to fill their loft. +I have seen the two of them bent under such a load +as hid them from sight.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_44"></span> +“Yet she has some valuable old possessions; why +doesn’t she sell them?”</p> + +<p>“First, because she could not be induced to part +from them, and again because there are few purchasers +of such things in this part of the country. +You are far from the track of the tourist, my dear, +and transportation over these mountain roads is expensive.”</p> + +<p>“Now for the <i lang="es">playa</i>,” said Doña Martina. +“Paulette, my dear, your French heels will never +take you comfortably over this rough road. Better +let Tomás pilot you. Patty, Juan and I will look +out for you,” and Patty, who expected Tomás to +give his attention to her, was obliged to turn back +that she might be under her sister’s wing.</p> + +<p>The way was lovely enough in spite of stones, for +great trees met overhead, and a little stream babbled +a winding course to the sea. Wild flowers enlivened +the green, wild honeysuckle, English daisies +and big-eyed marguerites, wild rose blooms, too, +spotted the bushes, and the little partridge-pea +threw its tendrils over the rocks. At last a narrow +strip of beach, with high cliffs on either side confronted +them. Great jagged pillars supported the +roofs of cave-like structures, through which one +could pass to the sands beyond.</p> + +<p>“They look as if they had been hewn out by +Hercules or Titan, or some of those old fellows,” +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_45"></span> +said Patty. “I am coming here to take a dip sometimes. +I suppose it is perfectly safe.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, dear, yes, and you see those great caves on +each side afford proper bath houses,” said her sister. +“The unwritten law is that the men take the +right, the women the left.”</p> + +<p>“It is such a nice, peaceful place I should like to +spend a day here with a book and—”</p> + +<p>“And what?”</p> + +<p>“Tomás,” whispered Patty, with a little laugh.</p> + +<p>“You and Tomás could easily come,” replied her +sister, calmly, “although, of course, you would not +be so rude as to leave Paulette at home.”</p> + +<p>“She would very likely decline to go,” said Patty, +willing to enter into an argument. “I think this one +trip will be enough for her French heels.”</p> + +<p>“How about yours?”</p> + +<p>“Oh, I have a fine pair of tennis shoes at home +which I shall wear next time. I brought them purposely +for rough walking, but I didn’t put them on +to-day because I didn’t know it would be rough.”</p> + +<p>“I shall not allow you to go off for a whole day +with Tomás; it would scandalize the community,” +her sister went on.</p> + +<p>“When he is your brother?”</p> + +<p>“He is not yours.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, well, if that is the case, you and Juan can +go, too. We can take lunch. Juan can fish, you +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_46"></span> +can go to sleep, and if Paulette decides to go with us +she can read.”</p> + +<p>“And what will you do?”</p> + +<p>“I will study Spanish with Tomás. We can find +some nice little out-of-the-way corner where we shall +be undisturbed.”</p> + +<p>“You will? We shall see.”</p> + +<p>“Exactly. That is what I thought we could do. +By the way, talking of fishing, that was mighty good +fish we had to-day. What was it?”</p> + +<p>“<i lang="es">Merluza</i> they call it.”</p> + +<p>“Do they get it here?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, near by. We think it very fine. But +Patty,”</p> + +<p>“Yes?”</p> + +<p>“Please don’t trifle with Tomás.”</p> + +<p>“My dear, we thrashed that out long ago, and we +decided that forty dollars a year for a house and—”</p> + +<p>“Do stop your foolishness. Here comes Juan,” +said Martina, hastily. And Patty was left to meditate +upon her shortcomings while the other four +went to examine the curious rocks.</p> + +<p>She sat quite unconcernedly upon the rock where +she had ensconced herself and at last had the satisfaction +of seeing Tomás advancing toward her +alone, Paulette having remained with the other two. +“I was tired; it was such a long walk,” said Patty, +smiling up sweetly. Her vocabulary was sufficient +by this time to compass ordinary phrases.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_47"></span> +“But it is sunny and hot here; we will find the +shade,” said Tomás. And Patty had the delight of +being escorted to a sequestered corner while her sister +cast anxious glances toward the spot where she +had left the girl.</p> + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + + +<div class="chapter"> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_48"></span> +<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_IV">CHAPTER <abbr title="Four">IV</abbr></h2> +<h3>ANTIQUITIES</h3></div> + + +<p>“Paulette,” Patty spoke from the pillows against +which she lay, her arms over her head. Her dark +hair had dropped in a dusky coil over the white +covers, her eyes were full of mischief. “I’ve decided +to be generous and let you have the old don. +Fancy your living in a twelfth century palace and +having precious old gold cups to drink from with +wonderful old jewelry to wear.”</p> + +<p>“Bah!” exclaimed Paulette, “I want no old man. +You are quite welcome to your twelfth century +palace. I prefer a younger house wiz a younger +man.”</p> + +<p>“That is because you have not judgment enough +to make the most of your opportunities. It is not +every day given a girl to meet a wealthy grandee of +Spain who owns more land than anyone else for +miles around, has half a dozen old palaces, coaches +and such things to burn, and who, moreover, belongs +to one of the oldest families in the country. I +am surprised, Paulette. I thought I had brought +you up better than to scorn such wonderful gifts.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_49"></span> +“But, <i lang="fr">ma chère</i>, you forget one very important +sing.”</p> + +<p>“And what may that be?”</p> + +<p>“Suppose the gentleman prefaire my friend Pattee +and do not fix the eye upon me?”</p> + +<p>“Then all you have to do is to make him fix the +eye upon you. As if any man turned to black hair +when golden locks come within his range of vision. +Fancy a coach and four with outriders! They say +that is the way he rides about the country.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, zey say, zey say a great many sings. I am +not content to sit in ze coach wiz ze old man; zat is +not enough for me. When is he to arrive, zis +prince?”</p> + +<p>“He isn’t a prince, he is simply a blue-blood don, +and he has already arrived. I saw the back of his +head as he was about to ride away yesterday. He +didn’t come in his coach and four but on horseback. +He is rather small for his age which is somewhere +near seventy, he has dispensed with some of +his hair in the course of time, but is brisk and natty. +He mounted his horse with great agility and I +should say that he was good for at least ten years.”</p> + +<p>“He is a vidow?”</p> + +<p>“No, my dear, he couldn’t be under any circumstances. +I believe he is a bachelor. He has invited +us all to lunch to-day and then I shall see you +weaken before the wonders of his palace. They say +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_50"></span> +he spends most of his time viewing his estates and +indulging a fancy for antiques; would we were +older! He has a manager or superintendent or +<i lang="es">mayordomo</i>, or whatever you may call it, with men +under him, and they say he has so much property he +doesn’t recognize his own when he meets it on the +road. It must be rather nice when you drive along +and remark upon some particularly attractive place +to have your agent say: ‘That belongs to you, sire.’ +It is said that often happens in Don Felipe’s case. +See how much information I have gathered for your +benefit. What Tina could not tell me Juan was +able to, as the Estradas and Velascos have been +neighbors for centuries.”</p> + +<p>“So kind you are, and how much of this information +did you gather for yourself?”</p> + +<p>“Only so much as would make me an intelligent +guest to-day when we go to the <i lang="es">palacio</i> to lunch. It +will not be a mere <i lang="es">merienda</i>, Paulette, but a state +affair when I hope all the gold dishes will be put to +use and you will be sufficiently impressed with the +magnificence of your future <i lang="fr">ménage</i>.”</p> + +<p>“La-la-la, how you take it all for granted. So +large an imagination you have. Perhaps I spur-rn +it all and desire the love in a cottage.”</p> + +<p>“Ah-h!” Patty sprang from the bed, turned Paulette’s +face toward the light and regarded her fixedly, +then she smiled. “Well, my dear, all <a id="chg1"></a>I know is you won’t +have to live in a hovel. With your income you +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_51"></span> +could even afford something approaching what they +call a palace in this land. Yet, I hate to see the +coach and four and the gold dishes go to waste.”</p> + +<p>“Zen vy not take zem yourself, if zey are so easy +to be procured?”</p> + +<p>“Ah, why? That is what I don’t know. I rather +imagine it is because like yourself, love in a cottage +appeals to my youthful fancy more forcibly. However, +one can never tell. I may fall on my knees +and adore when I see the twelfth century palace. I +almost wish you had a decided yearning for it. A +real well-established rivalry would be most exciting, +and might spur me on to use my most fetching +blandishments.”</p> + +<p>“What nonsense are you girls talking?” said +Doña Martina, putting her head in at the door.</p> + +<p>“Oh, we’re only discussing Don Felipe.”</p> + +<p>“Quarreling already over the possession of him?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, but not exactly in a way which would flatter +his don-ship. Each is trying to sacrifice herself for +the good of the other; I want to give him to Paulette +with my blessing while she insists that I shall +take him. Queer, isn’t it?”</p> + +<p>“You certainly must have great confidence in +your own charms. A man who has withstood the +attractions of women, young and old, for half a +century isn’t likely to succumb to two chits like +you,” returned Doña Martina, “and you might as +well spare yourself further argument.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="page_52"></span> +“Now since you say that I believe I have received +the necessary impetus,” said Patty. “Conceive of +the glory it would be to storm a fort which has held +out against all former assaults and to have it surrender +to you. I have decided, Polly; you can’t +have him. Mine be the palaces, the coaches, the +gold and silver, the jewels rare. ‘They say I may +marry the laird if I will,’” she sang, dropping into a +Spanish dance.</p> + +<p>“Isn’t she silly?” asked Doña Martina. “We +know just how much of what she is saying she +means.”</p> + +<p>“Wait till this afternoon,” said Patty, pausing in +her dance. “I am going to find Juan, you two can +entertain one another till I get back.”</p> + +<p>“She is not half so frivolous as she seems,” remarked +Doña Martina, when Patty left the room. +“She has much good sense and you should see her +rise to an emergency.”</p> + +<p>“She is so glad to be free of convent life; I sink +it zat reason which makes her volatile,” returned +Paulette, “but I know her serious and earnest, too. +I see zat side at times. She says many sings to be +talking. As you Americans say, she speaks by ze +hat.”</p> + +<p>Doña Martina laughed. “That is quite true, +Paulette.”</p> + +<p>“She is so good company. All ze girls like her, +and ze sisters look over many sings zey will not excuse +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_53"></span> +in ozzers, for she is so studious, so alert. Zey +say, ‘Ah, zat Mademoiselle Blake, she is American, +she does not know better,’ and we all smile for we +understand. It is Patty and zat is sufficient for us.”</p> + +<p>“I can understand, too,” said Doña Martina. “I +try to be severe with her and she turns my own +weapons against me. She can already wheedle +Juan into anything, and as for Tomás.”</p> + +<p>“Ah, zat young man”—began Paulette.</p> + +<p>“What were you going to say?” asked Doña Martina, +seeing that she did not go on.</p> + +<p>“Only zat he is a very amiable young man, zat +was all.”</p> + +<p>Doña Martina looked puzzled but did not pursue +the subject. Instead she proposed that they join +Patty and Don Juan who were sitting under the big +tree at the side of the <i>plaza</i>.</p> + +<p>As the two passed out Matilda stopped to give +them a hearty greeting in her boisterous tones, +Rosario looked up from her embroidery frame with +a shy smile, and Consuelo coming from the bakery +across the way with some little twisted loaves in a +basket, fairly beamed when the ladies gave her a +word in Spanish. A large wagon drawn by mules +in jingling harness, had stopped before the door; +men were unloading pigskins of wine and were +joking heartily with Matilda. Doña Martina and +Paulette waited for two creaking cow-carts to pass +before they crossed the road to the big tree. The +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_54"></span> +carts were led by somber-looking men with long +goads laid across the shoulders. A touch of the +goad between the horns of the cows sufficed to guide +them. The patient creatures with a sheepskin pad +to hold the yoke and a red fringe over their eyes to +protect them from insects, plodded along slowly.</p> + +<p>“Will they ever get there?” said Patty, looking +after them. “I don’t wonder it is considered inelegant +to walk briskly in this country when even the +teams creep along like that.”</p> + +<p>“I have seen donkeys go at quite a trotting pace,” +said Paulette.</p> + +<p>“So have I, and you, too, would go at a trotting +pace if you had a hatpin jabbed into you at every +step. I saw a girl this morning taking that very +means of making her poor little donkey go faster.”</p> + +<p>“I wish I had seen her,” said Don Juan, fiercely. +“I would have stopped that business fast enough.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, yes he would,” Doña Martina hastened to +say, seeing that Patty looked incredulous. “He +would have rated her soundly. None of them dare +to practise such cruelties when Don Juan is around, +I can assure you. It is time to get ready, Patty, if +we are to take the noon train.”</p> + +<p>“Don Felipe should have sent his coach for us,” +said Patty, rising to her feet.</p> + +<p>“The train will get us there sooner than the coach +could.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_55"></span> +“Yes, but there is no haste in Spain, and fancy the +glory of riding in such a magnificent way. Do you +prefer milk-white steeds or coal-black ones, Polly?”</p> + +<p>“I prefaire to go in the train,” returned Paulette, +scornfully.</p> + +<p>“Perhaps you will prefaire to come back in the +coach,” said Patty, mockingly. “Have you decided +what to wear, Polly, dear?”</p> + +<p>“Ze gown which is ze most unbecoming,” Paulette +declared.</p> + +<p>“Oh, how silly to appear in your most unbecoming +gown before three men, not to mention the +<i>mayordomo</i>. I shall wear my very best and outshine +you all. You’d better wear that lovely soft +green thing; you look better in that than in anything +else.”</p> + +<p>“Perhaps I do,” returned Paulette.</p> + +<p>It was but a short distance to the station nearest +Don Felipe’s old <i>palacio</i> and the walk from the +railway was a charming one through a long avenue +arched over by great trees. Don Felipe stood on +the steps to meet them, and with old-fashioned dignity +and many compliments, conducted them up a +long flight of stone steps which led inside the house, +to the first floor. As the girls ascended, they +caught sight of several carriages on one side of the +lower floor and of some half dozen horses stamping +in their stalls on the other.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="page_56"></span> +“How queer,” whispered Patty to her sister. +“Do they always keep their horses and carriages in +the basements of the palaces?”</p> + +<p>“Sh!” warned Doña Martina. “He knows some +English,” and Patty subsided.</p> + +<p>They were ushered into a great hall, crowded +with wonderful old furniture, carven chests, chairs +and cabinets. On the walls hung dim but rare old +pictures, in the cases in a corridor beyond they +caught sight of collections of painted fans, of +jewels, of fine porcelain. There was scarce an article +to be seen which did not possess some history or +which did not represent great antiquity.</p> + +<p>Patty flitted from one thing to another, commenting +in broken Spanish on this, going into ecstasies +in English over that, pouring out in voluble French +her admiration of something else. Don Felipe +spoke French fluently, and at last this came to be +the accepted language, except when Don Tomás, +looking bewildered, would ask for some explanation +or would make the remark, “Shocking! Awful +badth form.” Paulette was scarcely less vivacious +than Patty, and her little French mannerisms, her +gestures and exclamations were more pronounced, +so that Don Felipe did not want for enthusiasm in +his guests. He led them from room to room, pausing +at last before the floor of a spacious old kitchen, +whose black rafters and dim walls enclosed a scene +which Doña Martina declared she would like to +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_57"></span> +paint. Four or five old women hovered over the +copper and brass vessels which were set over the +fire in the huge fireplace. On the floor lay a watchful +dog. Perched high on a dresser was the house +cat. Baskets of vegetables and fruit lent color to +a picture which indeed was well worth painting.</p> + +<p>“It is perfectly delightful,” declared Doña Martina +for the third or fourth time. “The whole place +is perfectly charming.”</p> + +<p>“It is yours, señora,” returned Don Felipe.</p> + +<p>“Do you think he would give me a copper kettle, +that queer one over there?” whispered Patty to her +sister, who, understanding Spanish hospitality perfectly, +did not take Don Felipe at his word, but expressed +the proper thanks and said that some time +she would enjoy making a sketch.</p> + +<p>In the great dining-room a lunch was spread, and +as Patty prophesied, it was served from fine old +plate, rare china and costly glass. At the close of +the meal, Don Felipe begged the ladies to keep their +coffee cups as souvenirs. “That you may not forget +the old man who has been so honored by your +presence,” he said.</p> + +<p>The coach with four black horses bore them +home. Don Felipe, his <i>mayordomo</i> by his side, +stood on the steps to wave a last farewell. Patty +looked back at the old gray palace, at the carved +balconies, sculptured escutcheons and windows, +around which clung blossoming vines. “I feel as +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_58"></span> +if I were in a fairy tale,” she murmured. “Really, +Paulette,” she added, “I am quite jealous, for I am +sure you have the finest cup.”</p> + +<p>“No, Doña Martina has,” Paulette insisted, and +so it proved to be. Don Felipe was nothing if not +discreet in his attentions, and had tried to show no +preference.</p> + +<p>“Though,” said Patty plaintively, “I did say he +was tiresome when I meant to ask him if he were +tired. I shall never get that frightful verb <i>Estar</i> +in the right place. It all comes of my trying to +show off and compliment Don Felipe in his own +language. I shall stick to French next time. I +knew I should get into trouble with your stupid old +language,” she continued, turning to Don Tomás. +“I don’t see why one verb <em>to be</em> isn’t enough for +you anyway. I saw you grinning at my mistake.” +The truth being that Don Tomás had kept a perfectly +straight face, although it was impossible for +him to hide the amusement in his eyes. “Don’t you +think it was horrid of you?” Patty went on, as if +the entire fault was due to Don Tomás.</p> + +<p>“Shocking! Awful badth form,” returned Don +Tomás with an attempt at propitiation.</p> + +<p>Then, having wrung this from him, and raised a +laugh at his expense, Patty was satisfied.</p> + +<p>“It is all nonsense to pretend that Don Felipe +didn’t understand that you made a perfectly natural +mistake,” Doña Martina told her sister. “I am sure +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_59"></span> +your Spanish isn’t so correct at any time that he +couldn’t see that you meant the other thing.”</p> + +<p>“Then I must redouble my efforts to learn,” said +Patty calmly. “Tomás will have to devote more +time to me.” So did she retaliate and was immediately +in a better humor.</p> + +<p>“Who would ride in a motor car when one can +set the whole population agog by dashing into town +in this style?” said Doña Martina as the equipage +rattled up the street and stopped before the <i>fonda</i>, +the observed of men, women, and children. Matilda, +pleased beyond measure at the honor, bustled +out to meet her guests, the children of the neighborhood +gathered in a group at a respectful distance, +while the girls at the fountain paused in their task +of scrubbing their buckets, to gaze at this display +of splendor. Don Felipe’s coach was well known, +though seldom did it stop at the door of any of the +villagers.</p> + +<p>The next day came three huge bouquets for the +ladies from Don Felipe, and no one could tell which +was the more beautiful, though Patty declared that +the presence of a <i>clavel</i> in Paulette’s meant more +than appeared to the uninitiated. “It is you, Polly, +I am sure,” she told her friend. “The <i>clavel</i> is always +the token of a young man’s regard.”</p> + +<p>“Young man, did I hear you say?”</p> + +<p>“Oh, pshaw! Why such distinctions? A Spaniard’s, +then. A Spanish man’s regard. Must I +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_60"></span> +give up that lovely old palace just as I am beginning +to appreciate, and was planning how to make it +more cleanly?”</p> + +<p>Paulette shrugged her shoulders. “Sillee, Sillee, +Sillee,” she chanted.</p> + +<p>“There is one thing I can do,” said Patty: “I +can go and buy a post card of the place. Tomás +and I saw some last evening, and I shall not tell you +where they are.”</p> + +<p>“He will tell me.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, will he?” Patty turned and gave Paulette +a swift scrutiny.</p> + +<p>“I believe you really would rather have the forty-dollar-a-year +house than the twelfth century palace,” +she remarked. “What a pity that it isn’t Tomás +who owns the <i>palacio</i>, but then, poor old Don Felipe, +what compensation would there be for him? +Really, Polly, I made no mistake in calling him tiresome, +and maybe I knew my Spanish better than I +pretended when I said <i>es cansado</i> instead of <i>esta</i>. +Now I am going to get the post cards and I shall +buy them all so there will be none left for you.”</p> + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + + +<div class="chapter"> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_61"></span><h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_V">CHAPTER <abbr title="Five">V</abbr></h2> +<h3>MY OLD KENTUCKY HOME</h3></div> + + +<p>The next day there was such an influx of custom, +so many cattlemen to demand meals, that the dining-room +was insufficient to accommodate both these +and Don Juan’s party; moreover, Matilda declared +that it would not do to seat ladies at the table with +so many rough men, therefore dinner was served in +the little <i>sala</i>.</p> + +<p>“Six places,” said Doña Martina as they sat +down. “Matilda has not counted noses this time; +there is one too many.” She had hardly spoken +when the door opened and in walked the young +Englishman who had left them the week before. +He bowed to the company and sat down at the end +of the table. On his right was Patty, on his left +Doña Martina.</p> + +<p>“As I was saying,” Patty began, in English, “a +twelfth century palace may be very charming to +look at and to live in during the summer, but in +winter the saints deliver me from a chilly house.”</p> + +<p>The young man looked up brightly. “You are +English, American, of course, and I fancied you +were all Spaniards.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="page_62"></span> +“We are a composite party.” Patty had found +the entering wedge. “My sister and I are Americans, +my brother-in-law is Spanish, and so, of +course, is his brother, while my friend is French.”</p> + +<p>“Then you are a compatriot of mine.”</p> + +<p>“Are you an American?” It was Patty’s turn to +be surprised. “We all thought you so deadly +English.”</p> + +<p>“I have lived in England for a number of years. +My mother was an Englishwoman. After my +father’s death she went home to live and I completed +my education in England.”</p> + +<p>“That accounts for it.”</p> + +<p>“For my seeming like an Englishman? Yes, of +course, but I still claim America and am delighted +to meet Americans. One finds very few in this +part of the world.”</p> + +<p>“We haven’t met any. You are the first we have +seen, and you are really a sort of mixture, aren’t +you?”</p> + +<p>“I suppose I am, but in spite of that I still cling +to the traditions of my boyhood. The happiest +years of my life were spent in the States.”</p> + +<p>“That sounds very English, or foreign, I should +say. We are so lordly in our claims that we call +ourselves Americans and our country America, +while here an Americano is one who has been to +Spanish America. We are Inglesas because we +speak English. I felt quite abashed when I asked +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_63"></span> +a Spanish-American if he were not a Spaniard, and +he quite indignantly replied, ‘No, I am an American.’ +‘But you speak Spanish,’ I persisted. ‘So do +you speak English,’ he said, ‘but you are not an +Englishwoman.’ It was quite a new point of view +to me. That was when I first came abroad; now I +am broader-minded.”</p> + +<p>“From what part of America are you?” asked +Doña Martina, addressing her neighbor. “One +cannot tell by your speech, you know.”</p> + +<p>“I was born in Louisville, Kentucky. My +father’s name was Robert Lisle and mine is the +same.”</p> + +<p>“I wonder if you could be related to Margaret +Lisle, who married our uncle, Henry Beckwith.”</p> + +<p>“She is my first cousin.”</p> + +<p>“Really? Isn’t that a coincidence? As we are +continually saying, the world is very small. I must +tell my husband; he knows Uncle Henry very well. +Why, you are quite like a relative, and from our +own state, too. What are you doing down here in +Spain? Traveling for pleasure?”</p> + +<p>“No, I am a mining engineer. I have come down +with some Englishmen interested in the mines of +this province. I have been to Gijon and am going +to join my friends in Santander later on. I stopped +off at this place, where I had been once before, and, +remembering this good little <i>fonda</i>, I concluded it +would be a proper center from which to make a few +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_64"></span> +trips to Covadonga and other places in the neighborhood.”</p> + +<p>“Covadonga is one of the places we have in mind +to visit,” Doña Martina told him. “Just now we +are merely staying here till our house shall be in +order. It should have been ready before this, but +you know the Spanish <i>mañana</i>, and the painters will +not have left it for a few days yet. Meanwhile, we +are comfortable and are seeing something of the life +in the village.”</p> + +<p>“Unfortunately for me, my Spanish is very shaky +and I cannot get along without a phrase book. It +seemed rather venturesome to come to these parts +so poorly equipped, but the call was sudden, and I +had no time to prepare for it.”</p> + +<p>“I’ve no doubt you know as much as Mademoiselle +Delambre and I do,” Patty chimed in. “I +make frightful mistakes, but I plunge in recklessly +and am gradually getting a vocabulary.”</p> + +<p>“I thought before I ventured too far off by myself +I would devote a little time to study, and perhaps +you can recommend a teacher, or at least someone +who would be willing to give me some hours of +conversation each day.”</p> + +<p>“I am sure my husband can direct you to someone,” +Doña Martina assured him, and with that, +the meal having been finished, they all left the table.</p> + +<p>This new acquaintance brought a fresh element +into the party. As Doña Martina remarked, “I +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_65"></span> +told you so. Let Patty but appear and a man drops +down from the skies; already there are three on the +list and I hope she is content.”</p> + +<p>Paulette looked up from under her light lashes +and smiled. She was fond of Patty, but in her +heart of hearts she felt that her own attractions +were not to be despised. She was a small person, +rather chic, and, but for a somewhat large nose +and a rough complexion, would have been considered +pretty. As it was she made the most of a slim +figure and golden locks, which were her chief +charms.</p> + +<p>“Your golden hair, Polly, dear, is your fortune +as much as your ducats are,” Patty had one day +said to her when they were discussing each other +in that perfectly frank way that young girls have. +“With that and your very stylish and trig form you +are saved from being utterly commonplace. Your +eyes are rather small, your mouth nothing remarkable; +you have too much nose; your feet are passable +in high heels; your hands are positively ugly, +but no one observes anything but those golden locks +and that you have an air.”</p> + +<p>“And you, my dear Patty, may not have what you +call an air, but cast a glance from those melting +brown eyes upon even a <i lang="fr">gamin</i> in the street and +he bows before you. Your nose is impertinent, but +it is not, as mine, a feature whose bridge it is difficult +to pass over. A <i lang="fr">nez retrousée</i> is not objectionable, +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_66"></span> +it is in fact desirable with such eyes. A very +long nose would give you a visage so melancholy +as would make one fancy you a veritable ascetic. +Your mouth is a trifle large for your nose, but better +that than too small, else your eyes would seem +out of proportion. Your figure is not bad, a little +thin, but that is a fault which years may improve. +I may grow too stout, you will not.”</p> + +<p>“How honest we are,” Patty returned. “That +comes of hearing so much about confessions and +the like, here in the convent.”</p> + +<p>The confessions were not so frequent, once the +convent was left behind, for the two girls were now +in the world of reality rather than of dreams, +and there was too much that was vitally interesting +going on about them to admit of vagaries and of +such discussions as touched only personal appearance. +Each tried to look her best and thoroughly +enjoyed the pretty summer outfit which had been a +matter of such moment at the time of providing.</p> + +<p>Patty had sought the <i>galleria</i> after dinner, and +stood watching the great stars slip down behind the +mountains. From below came the laughter and +chatter of the <i>vaqueros</i> who had gathered in the +wine-room. There was more movement than usual +on the little <i>plaza</i>, on account of the presence of so +many cattle drivers. The air was sweet with the +scent of blossoms hidden behind garden walls or +nodding from the boxes set in windows. Paulette, +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_67"></span> +Don Tomás and Doña Martina were pacing the +white way. Don Juan was busy over his papers. +Patty, leaning her arms on the ledge of the <i>galleria</i> +rested her chin upon them. It was pleasant to be +there. One seldom had a chance to be alone, and +once in a while one must have time to think. How +long ago it seemed since she and Tina had come +from home, that home which was now broken up. +Five years Tina had been married. Before that +was the yellow house with white pillars, the garden—ah, +yes, that was it—the scent of flowers reminded +her of home. She could see her father +pacing, pacing, his hands behind him, his head bent. +That was after the days when her frail little mother, +with big eyes like Patty’s own, used to walk the +garden-paths, holding little Patty by the hand, the +little six year old Patty, who suddenly missed the +dear companion and found out there was no use in +asking again for mother, for she was in far off +heaven, too distant to reach. Then grandma Beckwith +took mother’s place at table, and finally there +was neither grandma Beckwith nor papa to haunt +the garden walks, only Patty and Tina and the new +brother Juan. Three years these had lived in the +old house, then it was leased for a term of years +and the two sisters came abroad, Patty to finish her +education with the sisters in a convent, and Tina +to follow her husband wherever his business might +call him. They had gone to London first and then +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_68"></span> +to Paris, where, within the last year, Don Juan had +been desperately ill, and upon his recovery had felt +that nothing would complete his cure but the healthful +breezes of his native province in northern Spain. +It had been a long two years for Patty, although +there were visits from her sister once in a while, +and one Christmas there had been a jolly good time +at an old chateau, where lived an American fellow +schoolmate, who had invited Patty with some other +girls for a holiday visit. Now schooldays were +over and what next? The summer here, and then +would they go to Madrid as Don Juan sometimes +thought of doing? Would they stay here in Asturias? +Would they return to America? This +present experience was delightfully novel and entertaining. +It was pleasant, too, to be with dear old +Tina, who tried to be so strict and to maintain such +discipline with her young sister, just as she had +always tried in the days gone by, but— A homesick +feeling came over Patty, a longing for the old +home, the old ways, for the beloved country whose +faults, like her own, were but youthful faults after +all.</p> + +<p>She gave a long sigh, and presently became aware +from a slight movement that someone had stepped +out upon the balcony, then a voice said, “I beg your +pardon. I didn’t know anyone was out here. Will +my cigar annoy you?”</p> + +<p>“And I with a Spanish brother-in-law who +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_69"></span> +smokes cigarettes eternally? No, Mr. Lisle, I have +passed beyond feeling annoyed at so slight a thing +as that. In the convent, of course, the sisters don’t +smoke.”</p> + +<p>“The convent?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, I have been there for the past two years +completing my education. I have learned many +things—especially from the French girls.”</p> + +<p>She did not see the young man’s frown. “And +from the sisters?”</p> + +<p>“Oh, I learned things from them, too, the dear +doves. I have become fluent in excellent French. +I learned to embroider beautifully; I can sketch—a +little; my music isn’t so terrible and—well, the +lives of the saints may be very edifying, but somehow +they never did interest me as much as the lives +of the sinners.”</p> + +<p>“Whom do you class among the sinners?”</p> + +<p>“Myself for one.”</p> + +<p>“I can scarcely credit that. Are you such a sinner?”</p> + +<p>“We are all miserable sinners, so sister Cecile +used to say, and I think she meant I was one of the +chief, yet, I am sure she loved me. Some day I +must go back there to see them all, for I was really +very happy after a fashion.”</p> + +<p>“And now?”</p> + +<p>“Oh, I am happier still now, though I was happiest +in the dear old home. I have just been thinking +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_70"></span> +about it. The smell of the roses brought it all +back to me.”</p> + +<p>“Tell me about it. May I sit here?” He threw +away his cigar and established himself on the bench +which ran along one side of the <i>galleria</i>, while +Patty sat opposite in a porch chair.</p> + +<p>“It is in Kentucky, you know,” the girl said, “not +far from Lexington, and I spent all my childhood +there. I had a governess after my mother died, +then, after my father’s death, I went to boarding-school +for a while. I was still at school when my +sister married. We lived in the old home for a +couple of years after that, then, when Dr. Estradas +had to come over here, they brought me with them +and sent me to a convent to finish my studies.”</p> + +<p>“Then you, too, are an orphan.”</p> + +<p>“Yes, I have no one but Tina.”</p> + +<p>“I have my grandfather and one uncle, no brothers +or sisters. I, too, remember my old Kentucky +home and my happy boyhood.”</p> + +<p>“Don’t you get homesick, oh so homesick for it +sometimes? I do. ‘For the sun shines bright on +my old Kentucky home, my old Kentucky home so +far away,’” she sang softly. “That almost breaks +my heart, for my mother used to sing it to me, and +it brings back everything, everything, the old house +with the white columns, the roses in bloom, the sun +shining on the trees. Oh, dear, why can’t things +stay as we want them?”</p> + +<div class="figcenter"> + <a id="i_070"></a> + <br> + <img src="images/i_070.jpg" + alt="Homesick"> + <p class="caption">“‘DON’T YOU GET HOMESICK?’”</p> +</div><!--end figcenter--> + +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_71"></span> + +<p>“There is nothing we can count on but change.”</p> + +<p>“Alas, no. Do you ever expect to go back?”</p> + +<p>“I should like to, but I probably shall not while +my grandfather lives.”</p> + +<p>“You have an English home, though, and that +must be lovely. I have been in England, and I +know how charming some of the homes there +are.”</p> + +<p>“Ours is not particularly so. It is in London, +and though we have a garden, after a fashion, it is +not like the one I remember in Kentucky, which +must have been something like that of your childhood’s +delight.”</p> + +<p>“Then you love your old Kentucky home the +best?” Patty said eagerly.</p> + +<p>“Yes, I confess it. Perhaps when I see it again +the glory will have departed, though in my dreams +it is the most charming spot in the world.”</p> + +<p>“Did it have tall box walks and a perfect riot of +roses climbing everywhere? Was there an old +apple-tree with a lovely low crotch where you could +sit? Was there a queer sun-dial and a fountain? +Did the beehives stand at one end, and were there +currant bushes all along one side? That is the way +ours was.”</p> + +<p>“Ours was not unlike, except that my favorite +was a cherry tree, and we had gooseberries instead +of currants. There were no bees, but I kept pigeons +and they used to strut up and down the graveled +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_72"></span> +walks. It broke my heart to give up those +pigeons.”</p> + +<p>“And it nearly killed me to part from my pony.”</p> + +<p>“My little mare, Betsy, is still there. I can imagine +it was a wrench for you to give up your pony if +you felt as I did about Bet.”</p> + +<p>“Who lives there now?”</p> + +<p>“An aunt, my father’s aunt, so it is not in the +hands of strangers.”</p> + +<p>“Our house is. We have rented it and shall sell +it when we have a good offer.”</p> + +<p>“Then you do not expect to go back there to live.”</p> + +<p>“No. Juan’s interests seem to be centering over +here, and where Tina is I shall be. We may spend +the winter in Madrid or Paris, so you see the prospect +of going back to old Kaintuck is a very distant +one. We leave this <i>fonda</i> in a few days for Juan’s +home. It is just beyond, between this and the next +village, and there we shall spend the summer. Don +Tomás has been living there alone since his mother’s +death about three years ago, and the house really +was badly in need of repairs.”</p> + +<p>“I notice you say Tomás with the accent on the +last syllable, and not as we pronounce Thomas.”</p> + +<p>“Yes, that is the way the Spanish call it. I think +I like it better. They are coming up. I must go in, +for no doubt my sister wonders what has become of +me.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="page_73"></span> +She joined the others in the <i>sala</i>, leaving Mr. +Lisle to his own reflections. “Where have you been +all this time, Patty?” asked her sister.</p> + +<p>“Oh, I have been meditating part of the time. I +should think you would be glad to know I do think +sometimes.”</p> + +<p>“Were you out there on the <i>galleria</i> all the time?”</p> + +<p>“Yes.”</p> + +<p>Doña Martina sniffed the air. “Someone is +smoking. Was Juan with you?”</p> + +<p>“No, dearest of duennas, he was not. I had the +charming society of our compatriot, and we have +been talking of our Kentucky homes till I am sure +he is homesick; I know I am.”</p> + +<p>Her sister’s face softened and she said gently: +“It wasn’t exactly right for you to sit out there with +him alone.”</p> + +<p>“Wasn’t it? I am sure we know just who he is.”</p> + +<p>“But he has not been properly presented and we +know nothing about him except that his cousin married +our uncle.”</p> + +<p>“Then, please, Tina, dear, go right to your room +and write to Uncle Henry to find out. It takes so +long to get letters back and forth. I’m afraid he +will be gone before we can begin to treat him like +a relation.”</p> + +<p>“Patty, Patty, you are perfectly irrepressible.”</p> + +<p>“Never mind. You will write, won’t you? +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_74"></span> +Please, like an angel,” and she turned a pair of appealing +eyes upon her sister, eyes so wistfully tender +that Doña Martina, half laughing, said:</p> + +<p>“Well, yes, I will, if only to satisfy myself that he +is all right. I’ll write to-morrow, Patty. I am too +tired to-night.”</p> + +<p>But as fate would have it, the epistle never was +written, for the very next day came a letter from +Mr. Beckwith himself. Doña Martina handed it +over to her sister with the remark, “There are moments +when I feel that the Spanish are right in +never doing to-day what can be put off till to-morrow. +This is an actual answer to what I might +have written and didn’t. There on the last page,” +and Patty read: “By the way, Mag tells me that +Bob Lisle’s son is somewhere in Spain. Of course +we know it is a big place, but if you should happen +to run across him do the boy a good turn if you can. +He is a fine lad. His father was a great friend of +mine and a better fellow never stepped. They say +the son is like him, though I’ve not seen the youngster +since he was in knickerbockers. He promised +well then. Mag hears from him occasionally and +of him from his aunt, old Mrs. Breckenridge, who +lives on the Lisle place. She thinks there was never +anyone like young Robert.”</p> + +<p>“So there,” Patty ejaculated, as she slowly refolded +the letter. “Well, Tina, you will be nice to +him.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="page_75"></span> +“Of course, but not on your account, Mistress +Patience Blake.”</p> + +<p>“For his own sake, then?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, and for Aunt Mag’s. I will tell Juan he +is to be treated like a relative, and you know what +that will mean to a Spaniard.”</p> + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + + +<div class="chapter"> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_76"></span><h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_VI">CHAPTER <abbr title="Six">VI</abbr></h2> +<h3>THE DAY OF SAN JUAN</h3></div> + + +<p>In a few days the little <i>fonda</i> lost the guests who +had set such a mark of distinction upon it that Matilda +felt her house had risen to the highest repute. +A rainy day had kept all within doors and had lent +an opportunity for better acquaintance with Robert +Lisle, an opportunity which was made use of, not +alone by Patty, but by Doña Martina and her husband. +These two latter had urged Mr. Lisle to +make their house his home while he remained, but +he had declined, saying his movements were uncertain +and he might at any moment be called to +Santander. He promised, however, to consider +them as relatives upon whom he could drop in without +ceremony.</p> + +<p>The charming old Estrada mansion could not be +entirely seen from the high road; one must enter +through a lofty gate before all the gray buildings +came in sight, though they and the garden were +visible from the side where one of the little narrow +byways led off into the mountain. A low fence surrounded +this side of the garden, which overlooked +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_77"></span> +a green vale and the mounting reaches of the mountains +themselves. Entering the main gateway, one +saw first the house itself, with its stone patio, +where countless pigeons cooed and pattered about. +Above were stone balconies and deep set windows, +over which were the sculptured arms of the house of +Estrada. From a stone-paved hallway, into which +one must first enter, opened dining-room, kitchen, +pantries and servants’ quarters, while above stairs +were the salon and the bedchambers, all spacious +rooms, looking out upon the garden in one direction +and the mountains in another. The furniture was +old, but the rooms were comfortable and there were +so many as well might accommodate a larger family. +Beyond the house stood the little chapel, a +covered way leading to it from the second storey. +Further away were the stables and out-buildings. +Fresh paint, where it was needed, gave an air of +cleanliness to the place, though the fine old rafters, +oaken floors and doors were left as they should be. +In the garden, palms and apple trees, figs and +oranges, roses and geraniums as high as your head, +grew side by side, and this latter part of June there +was a blaze of color.</p> + +<p>Word had gone forth that Don Juan invited the +villagers to a <i>fiesta</i> in honor of his home-coming +and of his name day, and as he had throughout the +countryside a reputation for performing wonderful +cures, for great charity, and for true kindness of +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_78"></span> +heart, far and near, the people prepared for the +occasion.</p> + +<p>Robert Lisle promised to be on hand and the +evening before the day of San Juan appeared just +as all were starting out for a walk.</p> + +<p>“Come with us,” said Doña Martina. “We are +going to follow the custom of St. John’s Eve. This +is the <i>vespera</i>, as they call it.”</p> + +<p>“And what is that?” he asked, taking from her +hand the basket she carried.</p> + +<p>“We are going to deck the streams and springs. +Those are rose leaves in that basket and those flowering +branches which Juan and Tomás carry are +for the same purpose. Come with us and help. It +is such a pretty custom and I want the girls to see +how it is done.”</p> + +<p>They pursued their way along a little stream +which ran through the village. Here was the +washing place where daily was seen a group of +women beating out garments on the rocks or +rinsing them in the clear mountain water. Further +along was a bridge and further yet another, the latter +in a quiet spot where the gurgle of the water +and the whisper of the new leaves made a pleasant +murmuring song. Here the party paused to strew +their rose leaves and daisy petals.</p> + +<p>Nothing would do but that Patty must explore +the stream further along. “It is much more fun +to stand on the very edge and send the petals on +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_79"></span> +their mission,” she declared. “One somehow has +a more intimate relation with the stream doing it +that way.” Tomás followed her and the two were +soon making merry over the fate of certain of their +offerings.</p> + +<p>“Come on, Glad Lady,” called Doña Martina. +“We are going.”</p> + +<p>“What did you call her?” inquired Mr. Lisle.</p> + +<p>“Oh, that was Tomás’s first comment upon my +sister. He said she was a glad lady and we thought +it very apt.”</p> + +<p>“She certainly is a merry creature, so much more +spontaneous and frank than most one meets. I +think candor and spontaneity are the charm of our +Southern girls.”</p> + +<p>“I like you to say ‘our’; it sounds as if you still +felt you belonged to Kentucky.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, but you know, I do feel so.”</p> + +<p>“Paulette has vivacity enough,” Doña Martina +went on, “but it is of a different quality.”</p> + +<p>“Quite so. Miss Paulette is entertaining, but—she +is French.”</p> + +<p>“I see you have the insular prejudice.”</p> + +<p>Mr. Lisle laughed. “I am afraid I have. +Where do we go next?”</p> + +<p>“To the <i>fuente</i>. The young people of the village +will have bedecked it by now.”</p> + +<p>“That is the fountain?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, or the spring, as you choose. It is the +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_80"></span> +great gossiping place, as I suppose you have noticed, +for one is sure to meet one’s neighbors there during +some part of the day.”</p> + +<p>“It is singing the same little contented tune,” +said Patty, as she and Tomás came up. “It does +not change it even for feast days. Aren’t you all +excited over to-morrow? I think there are so many +pretty customs for the day of St. John. I like to +think of the young men climbing to the windows +of their lady loves to fasten flowers and boughs +there. I am wondering if Don Felipe will climb to +our window, Polly, to set a bough of blossoms +thereby. I’d like to observe him in the act.”</p> + +<p>“Patty,” her sister spoke reprovingly.</p> + +<p>“But wouldn’t he look just like a monkey? Give +him a red cap and coat and he might go with a +hand organ.”</p> + +<p>“Patty, you forget you are speaking of a friend +of ours,” said her sister with dignity.</p> + +<p>“Oh, but he is a friend of mine, too, and I may +yet be making red coats and caps for him myself, +who knows? At all events, I’d like to see him +scrambling up to our balcony.”</p> + +<p>The flowering branch was indeed there by the +window the next morning, but by whom it was +placed, or for whom it was intended, no one could +discover. However, there were two nosegays, one +each side the casement, so there was no disputing +a claim to these. The two girls were laughingly +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_81"></span> +squabbling over the bough of blossoms when Doña +Martina called to them, “Come down, come down +and see what our young friends have been doing.”</p> + +<p>The two hurriedly made their toilets and went +down to find an archway of flowers over the gate, +garlands festooned across the windows and twined +around the balconies. In the center of the <i>patio</i> +was set a tree. “The presents have begun to arrive +already,” Doña Martina told them. “Old Antonia +has been here with a pair of pigeons and here comes +Miguel with a basket.”</p> + +<p>“Isn’t it exciting?” said Patty, peeping out to +watch Anita take the basket.</p> + +<p>“A remembrance for Don Juan, señora,” said the +maid. Doña Martina lifted the cover to disclose a +pair of white fowls.</p> + +<p>And so the procession kept up all morning. +Here came a lad with a basket of fruit, there an +old woman with a bucket of eggs, next a young girl +with a pat of butter on a quaint plate of peasant-ware, +plate and all intended for the good doctor. +The climax was reached when a handsome dark-eyed +girl appeared, leading a snow-white lamb, +decked off with a wreath of daisies, the flowers of +San Juan.</p> + +<p>All must go out to welcome the little lamb. “The +true symbol of San Juan,” cried Doña Martina. +“Isn’t it a darling? Come in, Perdita. Don Juan +will want to thank you himself. Anita will take you +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_82"></span> +to his study. She is very grateful,” Doña Martina +explained to the girls, “for Juan cured her +grandmother of threatened blindness. These peasants +are such a superstitious set and someone had +told the poor old grandmother to dry a piece of holy +palm which had been blessed by the priest, to crush +it to a powder and put it on her eyes. Imagine the +result! I never saw Juan more indignant. ‘But, +foolish woman,’ he said, ‘you have aggravated the +trouble. You would be totally blind if you continued +such a stupid course. Had you no better +sense?’ ‘It was my faith, only my faith,’ wailed +the poor old thing. They are just like that, and +half the time all that is needed is a little common +sense. Eye trouble is very common among them, +and no wonder, for they use one another’s handkerchiefs +indiscriminately and are utterly careless. +Juan has cured scores of cases and they think he is +a saint. I am sure Perdita has been coddling the +lamb especially for this occasion.”</p> + +<p>“Isn’t she a pretty girl,” said Patty, watching the +giver of the lamb depart. “She has such masses of +wavy hair and such beautiful eyes; then what a fine +straight figure and fine carriage.”</p> + +<p>“You should see her dance the <i>jota</i>; no one about +here does it so well.”</p> + +<p>“Shall we see her this evening?”</p> + +<p>“Oh, yes, for we shall have good music. Now +I must go and see if the maids have prepared refreshments +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_83"></span> +enough. There will be a big crowd, I +am sure. If any more presents come, tell me.”</p> + +<p>More presents did come straggling along all day, +until the supply of such things as the country people +could bring added a large store to the larder. +“They are poor,” Doña Martina explained, “and +Juan accepts no fees, so, as this is their opportunity +to give what they can, we are obliged to accept the +gifts.”</p> + +<p>“I think it is pathetic to see the little dabs some +of them bring,” said Patty, watching Anita empty +from a bag a small hoard of nuts.</p> + +<p>“Are we to dress for the occasion?” asked Paulette.</p> + +<p>“Why, a little, maybe,” Doña Martina told her. +“White muslin frocks will do.”</p> + +<p>“I wish we could wear something really Spanish,” +said Patty.</p> + +<p>“You can. I have a couple of shawls, <i>mantas de +Manila</i> they are called here, and you can wear them +as the Spanish girls do. You shall have the yellow +one, Paulette the red. You must stick red flowers +in your hair, I will show you how to arrange it, +and then you will do. Some of the girls will perhaps +wear the Asturian costume, they know we like +them to, and some will wear the <i>mantas de Manila</i>; +others still will simply wear the best they have.”</p> + +<p>“Don’t I look Spanish?” cried Patty, well pleased +with herself, when she stood ready for the dance. +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_84"></span> +“You look stunning, too, Polly. Isn’t it a pretty +dress?”</p> + +<p>“You at least look Spanish enough,” her sister +told her. And, indeed, with the yellow shawl +draped gracefully around her, a red <i>clavel</i> over +each ear, and a big fan in her hand she certainly +did look as unlike an American girl as possible. +“I must go show myself to Juan,” declared she, +dancing out of the room.</p> + +<p>She ran impetuously into the study and struck +an attitude, unfurling her fan as she did so. “Behold +Carmencita!” she cried.</p> + +<p>“Bella! Hermosa!” came the comment from the +man sitting near the window.</p> + +<p>“Don Felipe!” faltered Patty, taken aback. “I +thought it was Don Juan. I saw someone and I +didn’t stop to see that it was not my brother.”</p> + +<p>“Happy Don Juan, to dwell in the house with so +much beauty,” returned Don Felipe with a bow.</p> + +<p>“I am dressed for the <i>fiesta</i>,” Patty explained, +“and I came in to show my costume. I look quite +Spanish, do I not?”</p> + +<p>“So much so that one might well believe you to +be a native of my country. Perhaps you will one +day adopt this old Spain of ours. Would it be difficult +to persuade you?”</p> + +<p>Patty thought of the antique jewels and answered +coyly, “No one has tried to as yet, and—” as she +saw a sudden flash come into the old don’s eyes, “I +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_85"></span> +have not been here long enough to say whether I +should like to make this my adopted country or not.” +Then turning her head over her shoulder, “Here +comes my brother now. Am I not fine, Juan?” she +cried. “I look much more Spanish than Polly. I +wish I knew some of the Spanish dances.”</p> + +<p>“I should like to teach you,” spoke up Don +Felipe.</p> + +<p>Patty cast down her eyes that she might hide the +amusement in them at the vision of herself capering +in the <i>jota</i> opposite the small figure of Don +Felipe. “Some time when we have not spectators, +perhaps,” she said sweetly, “but to-day I +shall only look on.”</p> + +<p>“They are coming! They are coming!” Anita +at the door announced excitedly, and Patty ran out +to join her sister and Paulette, who, standing in the +doorway, waited for the approaching villagers.</p> + +<p>“They are singing,” said Patty.</p> + +<p>“Yes, the song of San Juan,” her sister told her. +“Let us go down to the gate and see them in the +dance. They sometimes come for miles singing +and dancing all the way.”</p> + +<p>It could hardly be called a dance, though with +joined hands a long line of young men and maidens +chanted the song, progressing up the road while +they took the step called the dance of San Juan. +At the gateway they paused for a moment then +entered singing still; Perdita at the head led a band +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_86"></span> +of maidens who offered crowns of the field daisies, +the flowers of San Juan. Then a young mountaineer +approached with a bow.</p> + +<p>“Where is Juan?” asked Doña Martina nervously. +“Call him someone, quick.” But at that +moment the doctor appeared and then and there +was raised a song in his honor. It had been composed +by the schoolmaster and had many stanzas +which praised the kingly doctor, his gracious wife, +his beautiful guests, his princely brother, his estimable +friends, and at last sounded the virtues of +even his cow and chickens. After this the maids +hurried out with trays of cake and wine, the blind +violinist and his wife, who pounded on a drum, +struck up a typical air and the dancing began.</p> + +<p>Most of the damsels considered it unladylike to +display much action when dancing the <i>jota</i>, but +Perdita was too greatly possessed with the spirit +of the dance to be hedged about by conventionalities. +With arms aloft, fingers snapping, body +swaying, she responded to the steps of her partner. +“It is a delight to see her,” said Patty to Don +Tomás, who was standing by her side. “If only I +could dance like that.”</p> + +<p>“I will teach you,” he offered.</p> + +<p>“I shall certainly not fail to accept your good +offices,” she returned, “although we must practice +when Don Felipe is not by. He has already offered +to teach me.”</p> + +<div class="figcenter"> + <a id="i_086"></a> + <br> + <img src="images/i_086.jpg" + alt="Perdita"> + <p class="caption">“PERDITA.”</p> +</div><!--end figcenter--> + +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_87"></span> + +<p>“He? That old <i>hombrecillo</i>? That <i>maniqui</i>?” +There was scorn in the tones of Don Tomás.</p> + +<p>Patty laughed softly. It was not often that Don +Tomás showed such temper. “There comes Mr. +Lisle,” she said. “I wonder if he dances.”</p> + +<p>“These Englishmen, they do not dance, they simply +spin,” returned Tomás. “It is in Spain only +that dancing is an art.”</p> + +<p>“There’s vanity for you,” said Patty standing on +tip-toe that Mr. Lisle might see her across the group +of onlookers. “You Spaniards are the most guilelessly +vain people I ever saw.”</p> + +<p>“A Spanish lady and not dancing!” said Robert +Lisle as he came up.</p> + +<p>“The gladth ladthy is say she wish learn dance,” +said Tomás, “and I am say I will teach.”</p> + +<p>“Don’t you want to learn the <i>jota</i>?” Patty asked +the new comer. “It is just over and it is such a +pretty dance. You should have seen Perdita.”</p> + +<p>“I am afraid a Spanish dance is beyond my +powers, and that I have even forgotten the American +method.”</p> + +<p>“If you ever knew you will pick it up again. We +have had such a day of it, and—oh I believe they +are going to illuminate the house and grounds! +What fun! They will keep it up all night, I do +believe. Why have you not been on hand to see +our precious doings?”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="page_88"></span> +“I had some work to do which kept me, and I +was out very early.”</p> + +<p>“Early enough to see them decorate this place? +They came long before we thought of getting up. +We heard voices, but were too sleepy to stir. +After becoming accustomed to the noise of the cow-carts +we have learned to sleep through anything. +Did you walk out this way and do you know who +set the blossomy bough by our window, and if it +was intended for Polly or me?”</p> + +<p>“Ought I to tell if I do know?”</p> + +<p>“Certainly, how else can we smile on the one who +desires our favor?”</p> + +<p>“Very well, I will tell you some time,” he added.</p> + +<p>Patty gave him a swift look wondering exactly +what that meant, then she laughed lightly. “I +fancied it might be Don Felipe, you know,” she said +in an undertone.</p> + +<p>“The little man in the elegant waistcoat and riding +boots?”</p> + +<p>“The same. He is a magnificent don with oodles +of pesetas and would you think it? He came over +on horseback to-day, though he often comes with +a coach and four. The relations between Paulette +and me are strained already on his account, as we +both pine for his collection of antique jewels. I +wish I had not thought of the jewels just now, for +I am instantly seized with a feeling that I am neglecting +my opportunities by not going over to talk +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_89"></span> +to him. I shall have to leave you.” And in another +moment she had joined the group among +whom were her sister and Don Felipe.</p> + +<p>There seemed no wearying the dancers and their +number was soon increased by a company from +another village. The young men of this <i>pueblo</i> +bore a tall slim tree from which all the branches +had been cropped. It showed only a small tuft of +green leaves at the very top, but was decked out +with ribbons and flowers. The girls followed, +jangled their tambourines and sang the song of the +day as they came down the road and into the garden, +where the tree was set up.</p> + +<p>Another supply of cake and wine was brought +forth, the dancing became more and more exciting, +though the watchers began to be weary, yet the +lights in window and balcony were not extinguished +till long after midnight, and even then the song of +the dancers still echoed from a distance.</p> + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + + +<div class="chapter"> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_90"></span><h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_VII">CHAPTER <abbr title="Seven">VII</abbr></h2> +<h3>THE INXANOS</h3></div> + + +<p>Robert Lisle walked home under the great stars +that evening with a new sense of restlessness at +heart. He was rather a lonely young man, feeling +something of the alien in his grandfather’s house, +yet having cut loose from the ties which bound him +to his native land. His grandfather did not hesitate +to remind him that he was not a Sterling in +name and that therefore he could not expect that +inheritance which might have fallen to him had he +been born heir to a son of the house. The old man +was not unkind, but he was not a companionable +person. He had given his grandson the education +which befitted his station, had equipped him with +the profession the boy preferred, and had allowed +him a place in his home whenever he should choose +to accept his hospitality. Having done this much +he felt that he had fulfilled his duty, and asked little +in return. On one subject, however, he had expressed +a decided opinion: Robert should marry +money, should choose a wife of good family as well. +Robert had tacitly accepted the arrangement in not +differing with his grandfather when the subject +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_91"></span> +was brought up, but to-night the idea suddenly became +distasteful. Instead of Miss Moffatt, whose +neutral tints were of mental as well as of physical +quality, he saw a merry laughing witch of a maid, +whose eyes could be meltingly tender or full of mischief, +who, while she appeared only a little less +than a trifler, nevertheless, had depths as yet unstirred +in her nature.</p> + +<p>He had had glimpses of this underlying the exterior; +he knew all that her gay laughter hid. He +had looked below the surface. The glad lady! +How well the name suited her. How well she +would love once she had given her heart. But—. +He stood still in the road and looked back over the +long white way, then with an impatient fling he +turned and trudged on. “What’s the use,” he muttered. +“I can’t afford it. I must not think of it. +A penniless, struggling fellow, what have I to offer +a girl? No, I must not think of it. Moreover, +there is the old don, and if not, the other fellow +whom she evidently favors.”</p> + +<p>Meanwhile Don Felipe had ridden away, and out +in the <i>patio</i> Tomás was teaching Patty the <i>jota</i>, +while Doña Martina called to them from above, +“Come in, come in, you scandalous pair,” she cried. +“Don’t you know it is past midnight? Haven’t you +had dancing enough?”</p> + +<p>“We have only seen it, we haven’t taken part in +it,” replied Patty, halting in her practice of the step. +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_92"></span> +“We’ll come in presently, Tina. There may never +come another day like this. Why grudge us a few +moments?”</p> + +<p>“This isn’t to-day, as you call it; it is to-morrow.”</p> + +<p>“Then consider what a triumph. It ought to be +put on record. I have beguiled one Spaniard into +catching up with <i>mañana</i>.”</p> + +<p>“Paulette has gone in,” Doña Martina said after +watching the two for a few moments, “and I am +so tired and so cold waiting here.”</p> + +<p>“We’ll stop at once,” decided Patty. “Poor old +Tina, I didn’t realize I was keeping you up, and it +does warm one up so to dance the <i>jota</i> that I forgot +you might be cold. I am a selfish pig. I’ll come +right in, dear. <i>Buenas noches</i>, Tomás. <i>Muchas +gracias.</i> It has been lots of fun, hasn’t it?”</p> + +<p>“Shocking! Awful badth form,” returned +Tomás, laughing.</p> + +<p>Patty with a giggle of delight at the reply, ran +in to find Paulette already fast asleep, and the house +dark and silent. She, herself, however, was in no +mood for slumbers. Her blood was tingling with +excitement of the dance. She opened her window +and went out on the balcony. The flowering +branch set there that morning was withered and +drooping. Patty looked at it thoughtfully. “Poor +lad,” she murmured, “and he hasn’t two cents to +rub together.” She leaned over the stone railing. +Tomás was smoking a last cigarette before going +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_93"></span> +to bed; the scent of it was borne upward with the +odors from the garden beds. “It wouldn’t be so +dreadful to live in Spain, to be near dear old Tina +to—” Her meditations stopped short. Tomás was +just below. She leaned over and dropped one of +the flowers from her hair. Tomás caught it and +looked up. “Shocking! Awful badth form,” said +Patty mockingly, and disappeared within.</p> + +<p>In spite of a waking resolution to fix his thoughts +unwaveringly upon the quiet Miss Moffatt, Robert +Lisle felt himself unresistingly drawn toward the +Estradas house the next evening. “I was lonely; +I had to come,” he said as he shook hands with +Doña Martina.</p> + +<p>“My dear man, you don’t have to make an excuse +for coming. You know you are always welcome,” +returned Doña Martina.</p> + +<p>Robert flushed up. “But I come so often,” he +stammered.</p> + +<p>“Why shouldn’t you? Aren’t we birds of a +feather who should flock together in a strange land? +I’d feel very much hurt if you didn’t come often. +The girls will be down directly. That witch of a +Patty has some notion about going to the sea-caves +to-night, a pretty rough walk, but there’s no doing +anything with her once she sets her heart on a +thing. She insists that she wants to visit the +<i>inxanos</i>.”</p> + +<p>“And what are they?”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="page_94"></span> +“Here she comes; she will tell you.”</p> + +<p>“I’ve changed my dress and put on thick shoes, +Tina,” the girl began. “Oh, Mr. Lisle, you must +go, too. It is just the sort of thing you would like. +We are going to see where the <i>inxanos</i> live.”</p> + +<p>“I’ve just been asking about them. Who, or +what are they?”</p> + +<p>“They are the little beings who build the caves, +tiny creatures who live underground. I am delighted +that the Spaniards have tales of something +besides saints; I had enough of those at the convent. +There are not only <i>inxanos</i> but <i>xanos</i>, and they pronounce +their name as though it were written +Shaughnessy, though they use an x instead of an sh. +The <i>inxanos</i> are a sort of genii; they give you things +when you ask them, but they, alas, like the genii +generally require you to do something in return. +I have written three wishes on a piece of paper and +I am going to deposit the paper in one of the caves. +Don’t you want to make three wishes, too?”</p> + +<p>“I certainly do.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, I knew you wouldn’t despise my fancy. +You mustn’t tell your wishes, you know, or they +may not come true. The <i>inxanos</i> are very particular. +Tomás has been telling me the most delightful +tales of all these strange creatures. What I +couldn’t understand, Tina translated for me. +I must warn you of the <i>xanos</i>; they are water +nymphs who haunt the forest streams and springs. +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_95"></span> +They are a sort of Lorelei who charm the young +men that happen to pass that way. I should hate +to think of your disappearing head first into some +stream to-night on account of the tricksy little +things, so be very careful that you don’t linger.”</p> + +<p>As Robert looked at her he thought it was not +only the <i>xanos</i> who could lure a man from the path +of duty, for try as he would to keep the image of +Beatrice Moffatt before him, it was so cast into the +shade by the sparkling face before him, that the +image appeared but a shadowy ghost, a pale and +intangible memory.</p> + +<p>“I must warn you, too, of the <i>huestos</i>,” Patty +went on. “They are the evil spirits who work mischief +to the utter destruction of human kind. Now, +come in and write your three wishes. I have at +last persuaded Polly to do hers, but I had an awful +time to work upon her imagination sufficiently. +She is so unsentimental, that Polly. When I had +persuaded her to do it, she couldn’t make up her +mind what to write. I knew in a minute.”</p> + +<p>“Will you tell me if your wishes should chance +to come true?”</p> + +<p>“Will you promise to do the same?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, I promise.”</p> + +<p>“Then—Oh, I don’t know—Yes, I will tell, but I +must do so in my own good time.”</p> + +<p>“And when will that be?”</p> + +<p>Patty laughed and shook her head. “You mustn’t +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_96"></span> +pin me down. Remember it was you who said some +day, when I asked you to tell me who fastened the +blossomy branch by the window.”</p> + +<p>“If you will let me walk with you to the caves I +will tell you this very night.”</p> + +<p>“Anything to have my present curiosity satisfied,” +said Patty, with one of her most saucy smiles. “Come +in. Polly must have made up her mind by this +time, though we are not going just yet, for Tomás +has promised to sing us some of those weird Asturian +songs of his. He is perfectly adorable when +he sings them.”</p> + +<p>Robert followed her upstairs to where Tomás +was softly playing a few chords on his guitar. The +three wishes were soon written out and the paper +tucked away in Robert’s waistcoat pocket.</p> + +<p>“Now for the music,” said Patty. “Those songs +of yours are just suited to out of doors, Tomás, so +I think we’d better go out on the balcony. Sing +that funny little song about Perequito, and that +other, <i>Dame la mano, paloma</i>.”</p> + +<p>Tomás twanged out his accompaniments and began +the curious little melodies of the province, songs +which ended in a long upward soaring note, suggesting +a call of the mountaineers. They were +generally in a minor key and uncertain in measure, +but even Robert Lisle was obliged to confess them +charming.</p> + +<p>“No one but a true Spaniard can give them perfectly +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_97"></span> +or even acceptably,” declared Doña Martina. +“All imitations are absolutely colorless. We had +some friends in Paris who tried them, but they +did not sound like the same thing. Very little of +the Asturian music is written, but Tomás has heard +it all his life and knows it without notes.”</p> + +<p>“Now for the caves,” said Patty. “It will be +slower walking at night, and we’d better start, don’t +you think?”</p> + +<p>The night was soft and still, the mountain tops +were faintly outlined against a starry sky, but were +lost to view where the winding woodpath was entered. +Tomás carried a lantern, yet they often +stumbled over the rough places. “It is such a +foolish thing to do at night,” said Doña Martina, +pettishly. “I do hope, Patty, that you will not undertake +any more such adventures.”</p> + +<p>“What is the use of coming to Spain if you can’t +have adventures,” Patty made reply. “You needn’t +come when I feel the call of the wild, Tina.”</p> + +<p>“But I have to. What would people think if I +allowed you to go around unchaperoned?”</p> + +<p>“Juan could go with me; he wouldn’t mind in +the least.”</p> + +<p>“As if he had time to follow your erratic movements. +This coming out to-night is a perfectly +foolish thing. I don’t see the sense of pretending +you believe in <i>inxanos</i> and such nonsense.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, Tina, you haven’t any imagination, while as +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_98"></span> +for myself, I always did love make-believe plays.” +Leaving her sister to the guardianship of Don Juan, +Patty hurried ahead with Robert Lisle, in entire +disregard of Tomás’ beacon light.</p> + +<p>“It isn’t dark under the stars,” she remarked to +her companion.</p> + +<p>“It could never be dark where you are,” he replied.</p> + +<p>“What a nice speech, quite as if you were a real +Kentuckian. Isn’t it now the time and place to tell +of the blossoming branch? Who put it in the window?”</p> + +<p>“I did.”</p> + +<p>“For—Paulette?”</p> + +<p>“For you.”</p> + +<p>“Oh!” Patty suddenly felt a little afraid—of +what? She didn’t stop to question, but in her inattention +to the path, she unwarily stumbled against +a stone in the way and gave a sudden cry.</p> + +<p>Robert caught her hand to steady her, and he +held it for a moment. A mad fire seemed to race +through his veins and he said unsteadily, “I am +not taking good care of you. I am afraid you have +hurt yourself, when I would rather have been battered +to bits than that you should feel the slightest +pain.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, it was nothing,” Patty answered faintly. +“I think—I think maybe we’d better wait for the +light.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="page_99"></span> +He released her hand and they stood silent till +the others came up. “Oh dear,” Patty was saying +to herself. “Oh dear!”</p> + +<p>The caves were not much further ahead, for the +splash of waves beating upon the sands was now +heard distinctly. Doña Martina refused to cross +the stretch of pebbly beach which lay between the +wooded path and the sea. “Juan and I will wait +here while you silly children go ahead,” she said.</p> + +<p>“I’ve just thought,” said Patty to Robert, “that +I’ve written my wishes in English. Do you suppose +the <i>inxanos</i> understand anything but Spanish?”</p> + +<p>“Genii ought to understand everything,” returned +he. “Mine are in English, too.”</p> + +<p>“Well there is some comfort in that, for if they +can’t read mine, neither can they yours, and if you +are denied your wishes so shall I be. There is the +moon, Tomás; we shall not need the lantern. +Leave it with Juan and Tina; it is much more romantic +without it.”</p> + +<p>They reached the caves without difficulty. +Strange structures they were; great archways rising +each side the opening to the beach and obstructing a +clear view of the sea till one had passed under or beyond +them. “What wonderful little people the +<i>inxanos</i> must be to build such places,” said Patty’s +companion as they solemnly deposited their wishes +in a crevice of the caverns.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="page_100"></span> +“We shall think them more wonderful if they +grant our wishes,” she said. Then she touched +Tomás softly on the arm. “Come,” she said to him +in Spanish.</p> + +<p>He followed willingly and they disappeared +around the corner of the rocks. “Let us explore +a little further,” said Patty. “I don’t want to go +just yet. You know the place well, don’t you, +Tomás?”</p> + +<p>“Perfectly.”</p> + +<p>“Then let us watch the moon on the water for a +few minutes. If they get tired they can go on. +They know it is light enough for us to find the way +without the lantern. Do you mind, Tomás?”</p> + +<p>“When you have given me the flower from your +hair?”</p> + +<p>“Don’t get sentimental. That was only a little +joke. You see you are a sort of brother and I can +ask you to do things because we seem both to be of +one family.”</p> + +<p>“Yes, that is it of course. You have no other +reason?”</p> + +<p>“Certainly I have not. Now, Tomás, don’t try +to look heart-broken. You know it is simply pretense.”</p> + +<p>“How do I know? I am not at all sure.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, yes you are, and if you are not you must be, +for I am perfectly sure we don’t want to spoil our +fun by any silliness. Just peep around the rocks +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_101"></span> +and see if they have started yet. If they have we +will follow. I hope the <i>inxanos</i> will be good to us. +You see I am doing this—I mean I wanted to wait +here as a sort of propitiation to the <i>inxanos</i>, so they +would know I am really in earnest. Do you think +there could be any <i>inxanos</i> there in that cave? I +see some little shadowy thing.”</p> + +<p>Tomás fell in with her mood. “Shall we go +see?”</p> + +<p>“If you like. They do appear to people, you +know.” This conversation carried on partly in +Spanish and partly in English was not perfectly +understood on either side, but each managed to get +the gist of what the other was saying.</p> + +<p>They clambered down the crags to enter the +caves, a lofty aperture in the rocks, open on two +sides. The shadowy form resolved itself into gray +stone as they approached. They passed through to +the pebbly-strewn stretch of sand on the further +edge of which they had left Doña Martina. The +four were standing there parleying.</p> + +<p>As the two figures came out from the cave Doña +Martina called to them, “We are going.”</p> + +<p>“So are we,” returned Patty. “Don’t wait. We +will follow.” And the party took up its tramp back +through the woods by the winding stream.</p> + +<p>Robert Lisle did not tarry when the house was +reached, but cutting his adieux short at the gate, +strode off down the road.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="page_102"></span> +Patty looked after him pensively. “It was so +romantic,” she remarked. “I wish Don Felipe had +been there.”</p> + +<p>“Patty,” her sister began.</p> + +<p>“What, dear,” said Patty sweetly.</p> + +<p>“I am displeased with you.”</p> + +<p>“Dear me, what have I done?”</p> + +<p>Her sister took her arm and walked with her to +the house. The others had gone on ahead. “Don’t +you know it wasn’t the thing for you and Tomás to +go flocking off by yourselves in that way?”</p> + +<p>“I asked him.”</p> + +<p>“So much the worse; it was very marked.”</p> + +<p>“And who was there to criticize?”</p> + +<p>“Mr. Lisle and Paulette.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, they don’t count. When you go seeking +<i>inxanos</i> you can’t be conventional, Tina. There is +no sense in getting vexed over a little thing like +that. Wait till I do something really outrageous.”</p> + +<p>“Which I suppose you are bound to do if you +keep on.”</p> + +<p>“Rather than disappoint you, I will try, my dear. +At present I don’t feel the least ‘compuncted,’ as +Tomás said to-day. He is getting on, that Tomás.”</p> + +<p>“You mean—?”</p> + +<p>“With his English. We begin to understand +each other at last.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, Patty, why will you?”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="page_103"></span> +“What will I?”</p> + +<p>“Flirt with Tomás.”</p> + +<p>“My dear girl, just because I say we are beginning +to converse intelligently you put that construction +upon the matter. Such a suspicious old +gooseberry as you are.”</p> + +<p>“I wish I could believe there were no grounds for +my suspicion.”</p> + +<p>“There aren’t any. If I am to flirt at all it will +be with Don Felipe. He is well seasoned and can +stand it. Good night, beloved. Don’t lie awake +thinking over my peccadilloes. They are really the +most harmless in the world. Good night,” and +Patty flitted up the stairway in the wake of Paulette.</p> + +<p>“Did you have a pleasant walk home?” Patty +asked her friend.</p> + +<p>“No,” was the reply. “Your Englishman was +as mopey as an owl. He knows no French and is +none too talkative in English. Why did you permit +him to walk with me when he does not know +my language?”</p> + +<p>“I thought a change would be good for him,” +returned Patty.</p> + +<p>“But not for me.”</p> + +<p>“For you, too, perhaps. Why don’t you teach +him French? He ought to know it.”</p> + +<p>“No, thank you, I have all I can do with Spanish.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="page_104"></span> +“So I think have I,” responded Patty. “One +would have to be very fluent to direct a houseful of +servants properly, wouldn’t one?”</p> + +<p>Paulette vouchsafed no answer to this, and Patty +saw that she was none too well satisfied with her +evening.</p> + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + + +<div class="chapter"> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_105"></span><h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_VIII">CHAPTER <abbr title="Eight">VIII</abbr></h2> +<h3>A ROMERIA</h3></div> + + +<p>This being the season of the year for <i>fiestas</i> and +<i>romerias</i> one of these was always in prospect even +though Don Juan suggested only such as might be +most interesting. That at the little old town of +Celorio promised certain unusual features and all +prepared to go.</p> + +<p>“What is the difference between a <i>romeria</i> and a +<i>fiesta</i>?” asked Patty.</p> + +<p>“A <i>romeria</i> is a pilgrimage, properly speaking; +a <i>fiesta</i> is simply a feast day in honor of some special +saint or some particular Madonna,” Don Juan +told her. “Many pilgrims go to the <i>romeria</i> of +Covadonga on account of the miraculous image +there which the faithful regard with much veneration. +A <i>fiesta</i> in our little village may be a very +simple affair; a <i>romeria</i> is more important, for it +brings visitors from miles around. It has been a +great many years since I went to Celorio, but Tomás +says the <i>romeria</i> there has lost none of its interesting +features and that there will be a great many +promisers this year.”</p> + +<p>“Promisers? And what are they?”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="page_106"></span> +“They are those who, during some illness of +theirs or of someone near and dear, promise a white +robe to the Virgin if they recover. I will not spoil +the effect by telling you more. That is enough to +make you understand what you will see. The very +devout do many such things.”</p> + +<p>“What other things are done?”</p> + +<p>“Sometimes a very strict and wealthy lady will +mortify the flesh by promising to wear only a certain +color for so many weeks or months. The more +unbecoming the color the greater the sacrifice. +Purple is often chosen as being very trying to a +sallow skin,” Doña Martina remarked.</p> + +<p>“I’m afraid,” said Patty with a smile, “that I’d +never get into heaven if it depended upon such a +sacrifice to my vanity. I’d look a fright in purple, +wouldn’t I, Tomás?”</p> + +<p>This young man brought suddenly into the conversation +from a brown study into which he was +plunged, hurriedly replied, “Shocking, awful badth +form,” that being the readiest English which came +to him at the moment. Then, by the laugh which +went up, perceiving that he had made the wrong +reply, he asked, “What didth you say, Mees Pattee? +I didth not hear correctly.”</p> + +<p>“I asked if you thought I would look well in +purple.”</p> + +<p>“You wouldth look well in anything,” responded +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_107"></span> +Tomás with a bow, and so redeemed his reputation +for gallantry.</p> + +<p>“There will probably be no place to get lunch at +Celorio,” said Doña Martina, “so we must take something +with us, and our <i>romeria</i> will be in the nature +of a picnic, for after the service at the church we +can go to the <i>playa</i> and have our lunch. Celorio is +directly on the sea.”</p> + +<p>“What fun that will be,” said Patty. “I shall like +it better than going to a <i>fonda</i>, though that is a +good experience, too. Is Celorio a pretty place?”</p> + +<p>“It is very old and interesting. The church is +of the tenth century and there is an old monastery +attached, with a pretty garden.”</p> + +<p>“And is it still used by the monks?”</p> + +<p>“No, like many another it has passed out of the +hands of the old Benedictines who used to possess +it, and now it belongs to some friends of Juan’s +who have bought it for a summer home. If any +of them happen to be there we can probably go +through it. You will like to see the garden, I am +sure.”</p> + +<p>“I’d like to see it all. Tell me some more about +the <i>romeria</i>.”</p> + +<p>“A very peculiar and ancient dance is given, a +strictly religious one, which is called the <i>danza +prima</i> because of its great antiquity, for no one +seems to know when and how it originated. It is +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_108"></span> +put into practice each year when the figure of the +Virgin is borne from the church. Then the girls +from the village sing their weird little song and +dance the <i>danza prima</i>, the step of which is taken +backward.”</p> + +<p>“It must be the queerest thing.”</p> + +<p>“It is very quaint and very individual.”</p> + +<p>“Have you asked Mr. Lisle to go with us?” said +Patty suddenly.</p> + +<p>“No, but I shall do so, or you can when you see +him.”</p> + +<p>“When I see him? Do you realize that he has +not been here for, let me see—three days?”</p> + +<p>“And why?”</p> + +<p>“Oh, I don’t know. Sulky, probably.”</p> + +<p>“Again, why?”</p> + +<p>“Oh, well, just because. Don’t ask me to keep +track of all the moods into which our young men +fall. After all, elderly men are much more satisfactory. +One can usually trace their seeming +peevishness to a fit of indigestion or a desire for a +smoke. Perceive Tomás, for example; he has been +as one in a trance all the morning. Just now when +he left the room he fairly staggered with dreaminess.”</p> + +<p>“It is all your fault, after your capers last night.”</p> + +<p>“My capers! Goodness, Tina, one would think +me an <i>huesta</i> or some other evil thing. Don’t be +silly. Did you never play with two boys at the +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_109"></span> +same time, I’d like to know? It seems to me I have +a dim recollection of your having gone to a dance +at home on one occasion, when you started forth +with one individual of a fair complexion and came +home with a dark-haired escort, unless someone +spilt hair-dye on his head on the way back.”</p> + +<p>“Patty, how did you—”</p> + +<p>“How did I find out? I was peeping from the +window when you came in and I saw—”</p> + +<p>“Never mind,” said her sister hastily. “You see +I’d had a little tiff with Juan and we made up that +night. It was quite a different thing, for it was a +very serious matter with us.”</p> + +<p>Patty hugged her knees and rocked back and +forth enjoying her sister’s discomfiture. “And how +do you know it isn’t serious with me?” she asked.</p> + +<p>“What is?”</p> + +<p>“Oh, all this,” Patty replied indefinitely. “At +least it is this way; I don’t want to favor one young +man above another, because I am breaking my +heart over Don Felipe. When he comes galumphin +along he doesn’t know that each beat of his horse’s +hoofs goes Pitty Patty.”</p> + +<p>“Silly.”</p> + +<p>“I simply adore the way his hair doesn’t grow +about his temples, and that gap in his teeth is so +unique. You wonder what has been there, then you +find yourself gazing at the one wobbly front tooth +which is left and calculate how long it will last +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_110"></span> +without dropping out. He affords so many interesting +conjectures that it doesn’t make any difference +what he says, for his personality is so attractive +it makes up for all else. His teeth are such +curios I suppose that is why he hangs on to them; +he wouldn’t have anything so modern as a new set +for anything. If he could only buy an old set, one +that had belonged to George Washington or some +celebrity, no doubt he would pay any price.”</p> + +<p>“For a girl of twenty you are the most nonsensical +child I ever saw. Will you never grow up?”</p> + +<p>“I hope not. I’m sure I don’t want to. It is +enough to see what mature years have done for +my sister for me to desire to keep out of my majority +as long as possible. Don’t remind me of the approaching +time when I shall be free, white and +twenty-one.”</p> + +<p>“What about Robert Lisle? Shall I send him a +note?”</p> + +<p>“No, don’t let’s bother about him. I wish you +wouldn’t bring him into the conversation just now +when I am ecstasying over Don Felipe. Isn’t +ecstasying rather a good word? You spoil my +train of thought.”</p> + +<p>“You really don’t want me to hunt up Robert +Lisle? Tomás can stop at the <i>fonda</i>.”</p> + +<p>“No, you needn’t, so far as I am concerned. If +you want him you will have to affix him to your +train. He doesn’t deserve to be asked after staying +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_111"></span> +away three whole days. Now he can whistle for +invitations from me.”</p> + +<p>Doña Martina looked up with a smile. Patty +seemed a little more emphatic than the occasion demanded. +“Very well,” she returned. “We will +trust to luck. If he comes we will ask him; if he +doesn’t, we will not. We will leave it that way.”</p> + +<p>Robert Lisle did not appear that day and the next +was the one set for the expedition to Celorio where +Our Lady of Carmen would be triumphantly borne +forth in procession. The village, which one passed +through from the railway station, was not large, +but was charmingly situated. The space around +the church was full of people coming and going. +On one side stretched blue reaches of sea; on the +other arose the Cantabrian mountains. Behind +the church stood the monastery around which a fair +garden blossomed within high stone walls.</p> + +<p>Coming from the bright sunlight without, the +church looked singularly dark and gloomy as one +entered under the gallery for men, so that the two +or three steps leading to the body of the church +were only dimly discerned, but as one became accustomed +to the dimness the very obscurity became a +charm, and one could see the age-stained timbers, +the quaintly carved capitols of the columns which +supported the gallery, the grotesque vases in the +chancel, which were now filled with flowers and +were in the form of devils. They might well be of +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_112"></span> +pagan origin, but none could tell how old they might +be. The gleaming candle points at the altar gave +the only light, and this was the more effective because +of the dimness beyond, in which knelt upon +the stone floor shadowy figures in black.</p> + +<p>Don Juan’s party found a place on one of the +few benches near the entrance, and presently +through the low-arched doorway came a white-robed +woman on her knees. She was followed by +another, then after an interval, by two together. +Following these came a mother and her two sons +on their bare knees. Others appeared from time +to time all making their way slowly down the stone +steps and up the body of the church to the altar +where the white robes were deposited at the feet of +the Virgin. Then mass was said and the Lady of +Carmen, preceded by the dancing village maids, +was carried forth to the music of the ancient <i>danza +prima</i>. Following her came the <i>ramas</i> borne by +the worthiest young men of this and neighboring +villages, then all who wished, carried tall candles +and joined in the procession which passed around +the church, to the noise of rocket bombs frequently +sent off from the tower.</p> + +<p>“What are they going to do now?” asked Patty +as she watched the villagers circle around the huge +pyramids of loaves, decorated with flowers.</p> + +<p>“The girls will sing the song of the <i>rama</i>. It +is rather a monotonous chant, and one gets deadly +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_113"></span> +tired of it when it is kept up as long as it is liable +to be, but it will probably interest you for a while,” +Don Juan told her.</p> + +<p>“And what becomes of the <i>ramas</i>?”</p> + +<p>“The loaves are sold or given to the poor. Sometimes +one person buys all and sells the bread for +very little.”</p> + +<p>“It is a sort of harvest home, isn’t it?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, though here they make a religious ceremony +of everything. They end up with a dance, +however, and what begins a <i>romeria</i> ends a <i>fiesta</i>.”</p> + +<p>“Where are you all?” asked Doña Martina, coming +up. “We are going to have our lunch now. +Tomás has gone to pick out a good place where we +can be undisturbed. We’d better be walking down +toward the shore.”</p> + +<p>A quiet place was not hard to discover, and before +long the little party was cosily ensconced under +a big tree near the cliffs.</p> + +<p>“This is the best chicken I ever ate,” remarked +Patty. “I can’t see how Manuela does turn out +such good things when I see her building that little +fire of twigs on top of that stone hearth.”</p> + +<p>“When a thing has been done in the same way +for centuries, the manner of doing ought to become +perfection,” replied Doña Martina.</p> + +<p>“I suppose Manuela has the experience of generations +to work with, for the methods have been +handed down from mother to daughter who knows +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_114"></span> +how long. Have some wine, Paulette? What +would you like, Patty?”</p> + +<p>“A jug of wine, a loaf of bread and Thou,” she +quoted.</p> + +<p>“Only for Thou, read Tomás,” her sister whispered. +“Well, you have it all, for surely this wilderness +were Paradise enow’.”</p> + +<p>“You have left out the singing in the wilderness.”</p> + +<p>“We had that awhile ago.”</p> + +<p>The last remnants of the feast were bundled up +and bestowed upon a lame beggar whom they met +on their way back to the church, and then, as good +luck would have it, Don Juan found that his friends, +the owners of the old monastery, were at home, and +to the little party the great gates were opened, gates +behind which the girls had been trying to peep, for +the clambering flowers which had reached the top +of the wall, gave promise of more beauty within.</p> + +<p>Through one corridor after another they were +led by their obliging hosts. Many of the old cells +remained just as they were when the old Benedictines +pattered their prayers as they looked forth +from the deep set windows; others had been altered +to suit the needs of the family. Above the doors +of the great <i>sala</i> were coats of arms, for here more +than one great personage had been housed. A +wide porch overlooked the pretty garden, and the +fields beyond, belonging to the estate stretched away +and away toward the mountains. A crumbling tower +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_115"></span> +was pointed out as the oldest part of the building; +a thousand years old, said their guide.</p> + +<p>“Think of the old <i>frales</i> who lived here,” said +Doña Martina in an awed tone. “Think of all that +has happened since this was built. Doesn’t it give +one a strange feeling to contemplate these gray +walls and think how long they have lasted?”</p> + +<p>“Can’t you fancy those Benedictine fathers walking +in the garden below there, or sitting in their +cells working over some beautiful old missal?” returned +Patty.</p> + +<p>“I suppose there was also a nunnery somewhere +near,” remarked Paulette.</p> + +<p>“No doubt, for the church would be the center of +a settlement.”</p> + +<p>“It gives one much more of a sense of the reality +of all that old history to come to a place like this,” +said Patty. “Where does this lead?” for their +guide opened a small door and beckoned them to follow +him. Patty was the first to step through and +she found herself standing in a small enclosed balcony. +She peeped through the lattice work and +caught her sister’s arm. “Oh, do see where we +are,” she exclaimed. They looked down and beheld +the nearly deserted church; only a few kneeling figures +still occupied it. The gorgeously bedizened +figure of the Virgin shone out in the light of the +candles still burning around the altars.</p> + +<p>“The little gallery,” their host told them, “was +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_116"></span> +used as a choir for the nuns who were placed behind +the grating that they might not be seen by those below.”</p> + +<p>“They could be heard though,” commented Patty, +“and I daresay their singing was very sweet. That +adds another interest to this rare old spot.”</p> + +<p>The dancing was in full swing when they passed +through the old gateway, leaving the scarlet geraniums +and white lilies glorifying the sunlit places. +The jovial notes of the <i>jota</i> called them to watch the +pretty dance, and when at last they took their leave +rocket bombs were still going up, and the sound of +violin and drum announced that another dance had +begun.</p> + +<p>“It has been wonderful, this <i>romeria</i>,” said Patty, +dreamily. “I feel as if I had made a real pilgrimage. +Is it as wonderful at any of the fêtes in +France, Paulette?”</p> + +<p>Paulette was not willing to admit that they were +any less interesting and discoursed volubly upon a +Breton feast day which she remembered and which +she declared to be much more picturesque because of +the costumes worn.</p> + +<p>The singing in the wilderness was furnished that +evening when Tomás took his guitar into the garden +and trolled forth some of the unwritten songs which +they had not yet heard. Then he told them queer +tales of the peasants and of the saints, of how in the +time of a great drought a figure of the Virgin is +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_117"></span> +carried from her own church to some other where +she must stay till it rains. Sometimes the patron +saint of some little chapel is given a change of residence +in the same manner. “At one time long ago,” +said Tomás, “there was a very great drought and +the poor people became desperate. At last one +peasant woman took by stealth the figure of a saint +from a little chapel in her neighborhood. She hid +it under a cloth and at a certain waterfall she gave +it a good dousing which she thought this patron +saint deserved. At once came a perfect torrent of +rain, nearly carrying off woman and saint on their +way back to the chapel. Ever since then the people +call upon San Acisclo, as he is named, whenever rain +is needed.”</p> + +<p>“That is a lovely tale,” the girls agreed. “Tell +us some more, Tomás. Tell us about the <i>inxanos</i>.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, the <i>inxanos</i> do many things. Not only do +they build the caves in which they live, but they +carry on business. There was a beautiful lady +<i>inxana</i> who did this, and there is a tale about her +but I do not think it as interesting as some others. +The tales are very numerous and some day perhaps +I shall collect them.” He took up his guitar and +began to sing a little love song. Overhead the stars +were climbing down behind the mountains, the air +was fresh and sweet with the odors from gardens +and fields. It was very still, very beautiful. Patty’s +thoughts drifted off to the old monastery, to the +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_118"></span> +<i>frales</i> and <i>religiosas</i>. On just such nights they had +watched the stars set behind these same immovable +hills. She felt very small, very young, and she +snuggled up close to her sister, who put a protecting +arm around her just as she had done to the little +baby sister in that old home garden of Kentucky.</p> + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + + +<div class="chapter"> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_119"></span><h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_IX">CHAPTER <abbr title="Nine">IX</abbr></h2> +<h3>ONLY A DONKEY</h3></div> + + +<p>For two or three days longer nothing was seen of +Robert Lisle, but Don Felipe was much in evidence +and Patty was enjoying herself hugely. First she +was teasing her sister, secondly she was bewildering +the old don, thirdly she was annoying Paulette. +Such a combination of effects was greatly to Patty’s +mind. She did not mean the least harm. She was +simply bubbling over with the joy of living. Little +Don Felipe’s pomposity gave her intense amusement; +he was so candidly conceited, had such a way +of swelling out his chest and strutting around “for +all the world like a little bantam rooster,” Patty declared. +He was not hard-hearted except when the +matter clashed with his opinion, for opinionated he was +to a degree, and no one could differ with him without +bringing forth a burst of indignant protest. +This Patty delighted to do and having made the little +man “dancing mad,” as she expressed it, would +go off into shrieks of laughter, then he would stalk +away in would-be dignity only to return at the first +word of flattery. That Patty knew well how to put +her limited vocabulary to the best use, when it came +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_120"></span> +to flattery, Tomás perceived, at first sulkily and then +with pretended indifference, turning to Paulette for +consolation.</p> + +<p>There came a morning, however, when Patty felt +that a respite from Don Felipe would be rather an +agreeable change, so she started up the road toward +a certain spot which Tomás had pointed out to her +in one of their walks. It was removed from the <i>carretera</i>, +so that only by certain twistings and turnings +along narrow paths could one reach the silent +shrine of <i>Nuestra Señora de Piedad</i>, whose tiny +chapel closely embowered in the protecting branches +of tall trees, stood at an angle of the wooded ways. +Unfortunately for Patty’s desire for solitude, fate +sent two knights her way and turned the current of +her meditations. Just as she was about to leave the +<i>carretera</i> she espied a wretched-looking beggar +beating his donkey, for in Spain a beggar may ride +and has not the least shame of his profession. It +is more noble to beg than to work and no disgrace +to be poor. The tender-hearted Patty, who was +nothing if not fearless, stopped short at sight of the +poor beast’s affliction. “What are you beating that +donkey for?” she demanded fiercely.</p> + +<p>The man muttered something under his breath +and then whined out a petition for alms in the name +of Mary.</p> + +<div class="figcenter"> + <a id="i_120"></a> + <br> + <img src="images/i_120.jpg" + alt="Donkey"> + <p class="caption">“‘WHAT ARE YOU BEATING THAT DONKEY FOR?’”</p> +</div><!--end figcenter--> + +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_121"></span> + +<p>“Not a <i>perrono</i> will I give to a man who treats +his beast so,” said Patty. “I should think you +would be ashamed to beg, anyhow, a great strong +man like you. What has your donkey done that +you should abuse him? He looks thin enough, +goodness knows.”</p> + +<p>“He is an obstinate beast,” replied the man; “he +threw me off in the dust.”</p> + +<p>“I don’t blame him for being an obstinate beast +with such a master,” returned Patty with spirit, +“and I am glad he threw you off, poor creature.”</p> + +<p>The man cast a baleful glance at her and fell to +belaboring the donkey with redoubled energy. “Oh +dear, oh dear!” Patty wrung her hands and looked +right and left for someone to appear to whom she +could appeal. Then out of a cloud of dust suddenly +issued a horseman, a little spruce old man on a black +horse. “Don Felipe!” cried Patty, eagerly.</p> + +<p>“Señorita!” exclaimed Don Felipe drawing up +short. “What is the matter?” he asked as he +alighted.</p> + +<p>“This man is beating his donkey unmercifully, +and will not stop.”</p> + +<p>Don Felipe smiled. “Only a donkey, señorita. +You are too tender-hearted. The man is but a beggar +and is not fit for you to speak to. Here,” and +he threw the man a copper which was received obsequiously +and with whining thanks.</p> + +<p>“Won’t you tell him not to abuse his donkey?” +begged Patty. “It has to work hard and looks so +thin.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="page_122"></span> +“What would be the use, my dear young lady? +As soon as our backs were turned he would do it +again; it is the way of these people; they are ignorant +and one must make some difference between +man and beast. No doubt the man is likewise +hungry. Come, my dear young lady, let us go on +toward the village and leave this wretched beggar.”</p> + +<p>“I am not going to the village,” said Patty determinedly.</p> + +<p>“And may I not accompany you on your walk? +Surely you will not go far alone.”</p> + +<p>“I shall go a little further,” said Patty evasively.</p> + +<p>“On an errand of mercy? Ah, yes, you are always +like that, so tender-hearted. Then I shall go +with you. I cannot permit a lady to be alone upon +the <i>carretera</i>.”</p> + +<p>But Patty did not budge, she simply looked at the +donkey which the beggar was preparing to mount. +“If I could only buy him,” she murmured. “Are +donkeys expensive?” she asked.</p> + +<p>“Very cheap,” Don Felipe told her. “But this is +laughable. What would you do with a scrubby +beast like that? Fancy your sister and brother +when you should appear with your purchase.”</p> + +<p>Patty made no reply. She had not a penny with +her and was helpless in the face of such superior +scorn. Don Felipe waited with ill-concealed impatience. +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_123"></span> +It was not the correct thing for a young +lady to do such wayward things. It was strictly +unconventional to start off unaccompanied, in the +first place, and he would see that she went home +properly escorted, even though it meant an exercise +of his legs to which he was not accustomed.</p> + +<p>But this necessity was obviated by the approach +of another actor in the drama, for who but Robert +Lisle should suddenly alight from Victor’s cart +which was on its way to Ribadesella.</p> + +<p>“Oh, Mr. Lisle!” Patty ran toward him. “I am +so glad it is you. I know you will try to make this +man promise not to beat his poor little donkey. +Such cruel blows and it is so thin, the poor +patient little creature. If I could only buy him I +would do it in a minute, but I have no money with +me.”</p> + +<p>“It is the glad lady!” exclaimed the young man. +“My dear Miss Patty, I have money with me. +Would you like me to buy the <i>burro</i>?”</p> + +<p>“Oh!” The lovely eyes, half filled with tears, cast +him a grateful look. “Please, please. I know Tina +and Juan will let me have him, and I have the money +at home. I would be willing to go without anything +if only I may have him.”</p> + +<p>“But there is no need to do that, you see. I +should like nothing better than to be the means of +allowing him to exchange a hard master for a +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_124"></span> +tender mistress,” said the young man. He stepped +up to the beggar who cunningly perceived that it +was to his profit to remain near by. “<i>Cuanto?</i>” +said Robert, laying his hand on the donkey.</p> + +<p>“One hundred pesetas,” answered the man, thinking +to drive a fine trade.</p> + +<p>“Bah!” exclaimed Robert, expressively, as he took +out his purse. “I will give you forty and not a +penny more.”</p> + +<p>The man’s greedy eyes devoured the money, the +sight of which was too much for his cupidity, and +he held out the bridle of the donkey with one hand, +extending the other for the cash.</p> + +<p>Robert counted it out gravely, took the donkey by +the bridle and led it over to where Patty stood.</p> + +<p>By this time Don Felipe had remounted his steed +and with a supercilious smile as watching the transaction. +“Seeing that I am of no use I will go on +and leave you to follow with your valuable purchase,” +he said in an amused tone, and the next minute +he was clattering along the road.</p> + +<p>Patty gently stroked the donkey’s soft nozzle. +“He will soon learn that there is such a thing as +kindness in the world,” she said.</p> + +<p>“I wouldn’t put too much faith in his good qualities; +they can be nasty little beasts,” Robert told her.</p> + +<p>“Because they are often so badly treated. I know +this one will be good. You must let me pay for +him, you know.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="page_125"></span> +“No, if you refuse to take him as a gift I shall +keep him myself, and the beggar’s treatment of him +won’t be a patch upon my abuse.”</p> + +<p>“Tell that to the marines. I will take him if Tina +will let me, but very likely she will not.”</p> + +<p>“Why should you not accept from me a scrubby +little donkey, worth less than eight dollars, as well +as a silver cup, worth much more, from Don +Felipe?”</p> + +<p>“Because that is a horse of another color, or +rather, I should say donkey. However, we shall +see.”</p> + +<p>“Do you want to take the burro home now?”</p> + +<p>“No, I think I should first like to take him to the +chapel of Our Lady of Pity where I was going. I +shall ask her to bless him.”</p> + +<p>“Is there a need? He has already been blessed +by a lady of pity, though I could wish she would not +confine her compassionate acts to donkeys.”</p> + +<p>“There are donkeys and—”</p> + +<p>“Donkeys, you would say. I admit that, but why +be kind to one variety and cruel to another?”</p> + +<p>“When was I cruel?”</p> + +<p>“Didn’t you promise to go to the cave of the +<i>inxanos</i> with me, and then only perform half of +what you said?”</p> + +<p>“I kept my promise. I said I would go with you, +but I didn’t say I would come back in your company.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="page_126"></span> +“Oh, I see. It was the donkey in me which prevented +my taking that in.”</p> + +<p>“Please don’t cast reflections on the dear burros. +They are really very clever.”</p> + +<p>“And I am not?”</p> + +<p>Patty laughed. “I can’t say that when you are +so quick to draw conclusions. I had a good reason +for not wanting to come home with you.”</p> + +<p>“What was it?”</p> + +<p>“I can’t tell you now.”</p> + +<p>“Will you some day? On the day you tell me the +wishes? By the way, when are we to look for our +answers?”</p> + +<p>“Oh, I don’t know. I shall have to ask Tomás +about it. He knows a queer witch woman who tells +him all sorts of curious things.”</p> + +<p>“If I may inquire, how did you and the old don +happen to be on the <i>carretera</i> in company with a +beggar?”</p> + +<p>“Oh, I was taking a walk. I met the beggar +first. I was expostulating with him when Don +Felipe came up. He is a mean old curmudgeon for +he wouldn’t back me up about buying the donkey, +and he hasn’t a drop of pity in his veins for he only +laughed when I asked him to order the man not to +beat his burro.” Her expressive face was very +serious. “You were very good, Mr. Lisle. I +haven’t thanked you for coming to the rescue. I +might have known an American and a Kentuckian +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_127"></span> +would do so. In fact, I was sure of it. Perhaps I +have interrupted your morning’s excursion. Were +you going far with Victor?”</p> + +<p>“I wasn’t going anywhere in particular. There +was a vacant seat in the cart and I thought I would +go on to Ribadesella, perhaps, and come back by +train. This is much more of an adventure. Your +praise is very sweet and mine is all the pleasure. +One doesn’t have an opportunity every day, even in +Spain, to come to the aid of a lady in distress. Do +we turn off here?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, there is the chapel just ahead. I see someone +there. Let us wait.”</p> + +<p>The tiny chapel boasted a portico under whose +shelter wayfarers might pause for protection from +sun or rain, and incidentally invoke the good offices +of the Virgin who smiled from her little shrine beyond +the iron grating. On the stone floor of the +porch a girl was kneeling with arms widely outstretched +and face upturned.</p> + +<p>“It is Perdita,” whispered Patty. “I wonder +what she is asking for. Did you ever see such an +earnestly beautiful face? I hope, oh, I do hope, she +will get what she wants. She looks as if she wanted +it so dreadfully. Now, she is going. Don’t let her +see that we have noticed her.”</p> + +<p>But Perdita did not turn her eyes as she arose +from her knees, and, after making her reverence +and devoutly crossing herself, she went in an opposite +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_128"></span> +direction down a leafy road and was presently +lost to sight.</p> + +<p>“Now,” said Patty, “you can stay here and I will +go and ask the Virgin to bless the donkey.”</p> + +<p>“Are you a Roman Catholic?”</p> + +<p>“No, but Guido is.”</p> + +<p>“Guido?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, that is the donkey’s name, I have decided. +It is the Spanish for Guy and he does look such a +guy, poor dear.”</p> + +<p>She went to the chapel and knelt for a few minutes +upon the stone floor, then she returned to her +companion. “It is so lovely here that I always want +to stay awhile,” she told him. “I like the way they +have shelter and seats for the weary on these +porches. Fasten Guido somewhere and come up on +the porch. You can see the Virgin inside there. +She is a very plain little person, for she is very +ancient, and you can see she wears the Asturian +dress. She seems such a nice, simple sort of body +that I don’t wonder the peasants love her. You +see,” she went on, after Robert had made his survey +of the interior, “I have a great respect for the Roman +Catholics, for I have lived with the sisters so +long and they have told me many things. I know +the stories of the saints by heart. Sometimes they +used to bore me dreadfully, but after all I am glad +to become acquainted with the legends of the church +for they explain a great many things to you when +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_129"></span> +you travel. I never dared to say how much I believed +and how much I didn’t, but the dear sisters +had faith enough for both. While I was at the convent +I went always to chapel and am as much at +home with the Roman Catholic services as with my +own. Of course, here in Spain, one must be a Roman +Catholic to be thoroughly respectable, but so +far I have never had to discuss the question. Isn’t +this a peaceful spot?”</p> + +<p>There was no disputing the peacefulness. Far +removed from the highway as the little chapel was, +a stranger would come upon it quite unawares in its +sheltering green. A small stream went singing +upon its way near by; the birds called to one another +from the grove; wild flowers nodded in the breeze. +The far off creak of a cow-cart droned out once in +a while from a distance.</p> + +<p>“And you like it?” Robert turned to his companion. +“You don’t find it wearisome, with no gayeties, +no city sights? You don’t miss social entertainments?”</p> + +<p>“Do you?”</p> + +<p>“No, but I should think you would, glad lady.”</p> + +<p>“That is where you are mistaken. Of course I +like good times, and young companions. I like +pretty gowns and all the whirl of entertaining and +being entertained, but it isn’t everything. I’d far +rather live the life we used to have with those I +loved in the dear old home, with the neighbors we +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_130"></span> +cared for and who cared for us, a visit to town once +in a while, part of a winter, maybe, and the rest of +the year the freedom, the peace, the joy of the country +among green growing things, flying along +down the country roads on horseback, sitting in the +garden to watch the sunset, grubbing among the +flowers. Oh!” She drew a long breath. “It is all +over, what is the use of thinking and longing for +what you cannot have back again? I shall try to +be content wherever I am. There is too much +misery in the world for one to whine who has +enough.”</p> + +<p>“That is a brave saying,” returned Robert, +gravely. “The don and his palace do not loom up +so largely then?”</p> + +<p>“Dear me, no.” She gave a little laugh. Robert +looked at her inquiringly.</p> + +<p>“I am just thinking,” she said, “of what a good +time Polly must be having with me away. I badger +her to death, and his donship, too. I think he is +disgusted with me for this morning’s actions.”</p> + +<p>“He has poor taste, then. Do you think that +Miss Paulette would like to be Mrs. Don?”</p> + +<p>“I don’t know. A girl like that doesn’t wish to +be left behind in a race. It may be she simply wants +to prove her powers, yet, Polly is rather a canny +person, I am beginning to think. I am fond of her +but her French thrift does crop up once in a while +and a practical marriage would have no fears for +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_131"></span> +her. What a nice comfortable time they are all +having, to be sure, Tina and all of them. The opinion +that sister has of me is appalling.”</p> + +<p>“I imagine it perhaps, a case of John Smith’s +opinion of himself, his friends’ opinion, and the real +John Smith. I fancy your real self is pretty well +hidden under an assumption of character which belies +you.”</p> + +<p>“Is that flattery or not?”</p> + +<p>“You just said your sister had an appalling opinion +of you.”</p> + +<p>“Then I begin to see the compliment glimmering +through the obscurity of the setting. From certain +signs which may be diagnosed as the pangs of hunger +I think it is time to go back. Moreover, I am +sure Guido ought to have a good and sufficient meal +and be given a thorough cleaning. I wonder why +the Lord bestowed anything so ludicrous and at the +same time so heart-rending as a donkey’s bray upon +the poor creatures, and is it because of that they are +always objects of derision?”</p> + +<p>“That is a puzzling question, and one for which I +doubt if any answer can be found.”</p> + +<p>“It will be hot on the <i>carretera</i>, but I have an umbrella +and we can keep in the shade wherever there +is any. That is one of the advantages of this delightful +climate, no matter how hot the sun is one +can always be comfortable in the shade.”</p> + +<p>They trudged back over the dusty <i>carretera</i>. +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_132"></span> +Few people were encountered, though the women +were working in the fields and by the singing stream +a company of laundresses were still at work rubbing +their wash upon the stones.</p> + +<p>Don Felipe had recounted the story of the donkey, +so that Master Guido’s appearance was not unexpected, +but at Patty’s recital of the tale her sister +entirely sympathized with her and pledged herself +to petition her husband that Guido be allowed to become +Patty’s property.</p> + +<p>“He will not grudge the poor little creature food +and shelter,” Doña Martina said, “but whether he +will think it proper for you to accept him from Robert +Lisle is another thing.” However, Robert made +much of the relationship, and upon these grounds +Patty was allowed to accept the gift. But that was +not till the following day. Don Juan was busy with +guests when Guido arrived, so that Patty handed +her charge over to the gardener, who promised to +give him proper care.</p> + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + + +<div class="chapter"> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_133"></span><h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_X">CHAPTER <abbr title="Ten">X</abbr></h2> +<h3> +SANTA MARIA MARINA</h3></div> + + +<p>The guests from Ribadesella were a stately old +gentleman and his widowed daughter, a handsome +young woman picturesquely wrapped in the mourning +veil it is the custom in Spain for women to +wear. It combined shawl and head covering, being +an immense square of soft veiling which was draped +around head and figure with graceful effect. Don +Tomás was not at home, Doña Martina was busy +with household matters, Paulette was giving her attention +to the young widow, Señora Campos, while +Don Juan was entertaining her father, Don Amable, +being assisted in the performance by Don Felipe.</p> + +<p>“Bother!” exclaimed Patty, after a brief colloquy +with her sister. “Strangers are here. Will you +stay and see them, Mr. Lisle?”</p> + +<p>“Shall I not be in the way? I think I would better +go on unless I can be of some use,” responded her +companion.</p> + +<p>“Do stay,” begged Doña Martina. “Tomás is off +somewhere. The cook has a toothache and has her +face tied up with a black rag. She is invoking all +the saints to come to her aid, but will not resort to +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_134"></span> +any reasonable means of relief. I shall have to send +Anita into the kitchen to help, so Patty, if you will +give an eye to the table, Mr. Lisle can go up and help +Juan talk to the men. A new arrival will make +them forget to wonder why our meal is late.” She +bustled off, leaving Patty and the young man alone.</p> + +<p>“We have our orders,” said Patty. “Mind you +talk nicely to Don Amable. He speaks a little English, +I believe, and then there is the handsome widow +whom you can try your Spanish on. What you +can’t say in words you can make up in telling +glances.”</p> + +<p>“The prospect positively scares me,” rejoined +Robert, pulling out his handkerchief to fan himself +in pretended agitation.</p> + +<p>“Is this yours?” Patty stooped to pick up a sealed +letter, her quick eye taking in the superscription +on which read: “Miss Beatrice Moffatt.”</p> + +<p>Robert took the letter mechanically, held it in his +hand and looked at it gravely for a moment. “Yes, +it is mine,” he answered. “I meant to post it this +morning, but there is no hurry.” And he slipped it +into his coat pocket, then went upstairs.</p> + +<p>“Now, who is Miss Beatrice Moffatt?” said +Patty to herself. “I never heard of her before.”</p> + +<p>The visitors from Ribadesella had come to invite +Don Juan and his friends to the coming <i>fiesta</i> of +Santa Maria Marina, it being the event of the season +for the little seaport, and, having given their +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_135"></span> +invitation, taken their meal, and made many high-flown +and elaborate speeches, they took their departure.</p> + +<p>“Don Amable is a nice old chap,” Patty remarked, +“but I don’t think his name suits him with that fierce +moustache of his. Are we all going to the <i>fiesta</i>, +and when is it to be, Juan? Where is Tomás? I +want him to tell me about Santa Maria Marina.”</p> + +<p>“Tomás has been gone since morning,” Doña +Martina told her. “I believe he said he was going +up the mountain.”</p> + +<p>“May I not be your informant on the subject of +Santa Maria Marina?” asked Don Felipe.</p> + +<p>“Oh, I am not so curious but I can wait for +Tomás,” replied Patty, lightly. “I couldn’t think +of troubling you about so slight a matter. I hope +he was properly snubbed,” she said afterward to +Robert. “After the way he behaved about the +donkey he can keep his old palace and all that is in it, +for all me. Stingy old wretch, very likely he’d beat +his wife as well as his donkey, if he had a wife.”</p> + +<p>Robert beamed. “Then there’s only Tomás,” he +remarked.</p> + +<p>“Only Tomás? What on earth are you talking +about?”</p> + +<p>The young man made no reply except to draw +from his pocket a letter which he deliberately tore +into small pieces, then he stooped down, picked up a +stick with which he dug a hole in the ground, and +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_136"></span> +buried the bits therein, covering them up and stamping +the earth down hard. “Peace be to her memory,” +he said with a smile as he brushed the earth +from his hands.</p> + +<p>“The quiet girl’s. Let’s talk about something +else, the <i>fiesta</i>, for instance.”</p> + +<p>“I’d rather talk about ‘the quiet girl,’ as you call +her. Who is she? Miss Beatrice Moffatt?”</p> + +<p>“How do you know?”</p> + +<p>“I saw the name on the letter.”</p> + +<p>“And remembered?”</p> + +<p>Patty flushed up. “Well, it wasn’t so long ago +that I saw, just before lunch, and one doesn’t have +to have an unusual memory to recollect that far +back.”</p> + +<p>“But that it should have made an impression at +all.” Robert beat the earth from the little stick he +held and looked down thoughtfully.</p> + +<p>“Oh, well, you see—” Patty strove for a proper +excuse, “one comes in contact with so many Spanish +names, you know,” she went on rapidly, “that when +an English one meets your eye it makes an impression.”</p> + +<p>“I see; a very good explanation. You wouldn’t +be interested in Miss Moffatt. She is as unlike you +as it is possible for anyone to be. She is like a +neutral day, such as we had yesterday, while you resemble +such a day as this, all sunshine and color and +light. Miss Moffatt is a drab day, sky, earth, sea +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_137"></span> +all one tint, no light and shade in it, not weepy, only +quiet gray.”</p> + +<p>“Such days are very restful sometimes.”</p> + +<p>“Yes, but one wouldn’t care for them all the year +round. Once in a while, perhaps. I enjoy Miss +Moffatt sometimes; she is such a good listener.”</p> + +<p>Patty laughed. “You shall tell me more of her +sometime. My curiosity is satisfied for the moment. +I see Tomás coming and now we can learn +all about the <i>fiesta</i>.”</p> + +<p>“We?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, why not?”</p> + +<p>“Oh, I shall be charmed to learn.”</p> + +<p>“Where have you been, Tomás?” queried Patty, +as the young man came up. “Gone all day, no one +knows where.”</p> + +<p>“I’ve been up on the mountain,” Tomás answered. +“There is a little chapel up there. I know the <i>cura</i> +very well, and I like to visit him sometimes. He +has been wanting me to come and look over some +figures of the saints and one of Our Lady; they are +very old and the paint is quite worn off. He wished +me to see if perhaps I could restore them.”</p> + +<p>“And can you?”</p> + +<p>“I think so; he will send them down.”</p> + +<p>“Come into the garden and tell us about the <i>fiesta</i> +at Ribadesella. We are all going. Don Amable +and Doña Elvira have been here, and we are invited +to their house to lunch. The town’s people +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_138"></span> +keep open house, we hear, so the more the merrier, +they said, or words to that effect. Come over to the +chestnut tree, it is lovely there now.” They passed +on and as they turned into the garden path someone +came along the little road beyond; it was a peasant +girl who stopped, looked, and then went hurriedly +on.</p> + +<p>At the same moment Tomás halted. “Perdita,” +he said under his breath. “It is Perdita.”</p> + +<p>“Is that Perdita?” asked Patty, over her shoulder. +“She is such a pretty girl. We saw her at the +chapel of our Lady of Pity this morning, but she did +not see us. Does she live near there?”</p> + +<p>“No, but she has a friend who does. Perdita +lives in a village further up the mountain.”</p> + +<p>“Then she is going home now, I suppose. She +seems such a nice, ladylike sort of girl, quite unlike +a peasant.”</p> + +<p>Tomás made no reply, but presently launched +forth into an account of the <i>fiesta</i> to which they were +going. “Don Roberto accompanies you?” he said +questioningly, looking at Robert.</p> + +<p>“You are going, aren’t you?” Patty asked the +young Englishman. “You are included in the invitation, +you know.”</p> + +<p>“Then I will go with pleasure.”</p> + +<p>“And we shall have Don Felipe, I suppose. How +about yourself, Tomás?”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="page_139"></span> +“I? If you will excuse me, I think I will not go. +I have seen the <i>fiesta</i> many times, and you will have +an abundance of escorts without me.”</p> + +<p>Patty thought he looked a little troubled. She +wondered why. Could it be on Robert Lisle’s account? +“Oh, if you don’t want to go,” she said +aloud.</p> + +<p>“This time I think I will not,” he answered without +further excuse, and Patty made no protest. “If +he wants to stay at home by himself, let him,” she +said to herself.</p> + +<p>An early start had to be made in order to take the +only train which would reach the small town in time +for the ceremonies. It was found to be a quaint little +place, full of picturesque corners, archways, windows +and doors. Just now it was ablaze with the +red and yellow Spanish colors. When all else in the +way of decoration failed a yellow bed-quilt was +pressed into service. A handsome bed-quilt is a necessity +in the eye of the Spanish housewife, and a +yellow one is not to be despised since it lends itself +to decoration on such occasions. Strips of red and +yellow cloth waved in the breezes, banners floated +from the windows, over the window ledges were +hung anything red or yellow which was available.</p> + +<p>“The church is scarcely worth seeing,” Don Juan +told them, “but the town is and the little harbor.”</p> + +<p>It was market day, although Sunday, and the +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_140"></span> +square was full of market people, in vociferous tones +crying their wares. There was no sign of a procession +as yet.</p> + +<p>“Shall we go to the church?” asked Don Juan, “or +shall we go down by the quay and see what is going +on there?”</p> + +<p>“Oh, by all means the quay,” the girls decided. +“There will be a second mass after a while and we +can hear that.”</p> + +<p>Down by the water’s edge the crowd was collecting, +some leaning over the parapet to watch the +flower-decked barges, some walking up and down, +some standing in groups talking, rich and poor alike +together. The little port was well situated and commanded +a view of green hills, of a stretch of sandy +beach and a bridge. Large and small crafts rocked +on the waters of the bay; little rowboats plied back +and forth.</p> + +<p>At last there was a distant sound of music, the +drone of a bag pipe, the tap of a drum, the blare of +trumpets. Everyone rushed to the corner of the +square. It was not a very imposing procession, +this upon land; a few priests, and acolytes with +swinging censers, with but a handful of followers, +made up the body of those who attended the rude little +figure of the venerated Virgin. This was borne +to the water’s edge under a canopy. A decorated +barge was in waiting. In this embarked priests, +musicians and acolytes, the Virgin occupying a place +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_141"></span> +in the center, and soon the barge moved slowly out.</p> + +<p>“There is Don Amable,” cried Patty. And at the +same moment her own party was recognized by the +gentleman and his daughter.</p> + +<p>“You are going with us on our boat?” said Don +Amable. “Certainly, certainly you are. There is +plenty of room. We have been expecting you.” +And with as much haste as the occasion admitted, +they were urged on board the boat which, taking its +turn, was now waiting. A number of other guests +were already seated upon the garlanded boat and +these were presented with due ceremony. Everything +moves slowly in Spain and it was some time +before the whole line of some two dozen boats and +barges, was ready to move. The larger crafts followed +close in the wake of that which carried the +priests and the sacred wooden figure; next came the +smaller boats, the little rowboats bringing up the +rear. Slowly, very slowly, the procession moved +around the bay under the bluest of skies and on the +bluest of waters.</p> + +<p>“I wonder if the little plain old Virgin in her +ancient costume enjoys all this,” said Patty to her +neighbor, Robert Lisle.</p> + +<p>“She looked very contented, I thought.”</p> + +<p>“Yes, didn’t she? I should think she would look +forward to being brought out of that dingy old +church into the fresh air. Some of the boats are +really very pretty. That one which is rose-wreathed +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_142"></span> +is quite fetching, and there is another all +green and white which I like. Imagine seeing anything +like this on Sunday in our Puritan land. I +have seen fêtes in France, of course, but somehow +these appear even more festive.”</p> + +<p>“I think one’s own mood has something to do +with it.”</p> + +<p>“That may be,” said Patty, thoughtfully.</p> + +<p>Arriving at the little beach, mass was said in the +open air, then St. Mary of the Sea was borne again +to her shrine, her presence being believed to bring a +blessing to waves and tide.</p> + +<p>In spite of Don Amable’s urgent invitation, Don +Juan’s party did not return with the others to the +house, but took their dinner at one of the little +<i>fondas</i>, promising to see their Spanish friends later. +“I have almost forgotten where the place is,” Don +Juan confessed. “Let Don Felipe take the lead.” +And Don Felipe, bursting with importance, pompously +strode on ahead with Paulette. After many +turnings and twistings they paused before an old +building, mounted two flights of stairs and found +themselves in a plain little <i>fonda</i> where lunch was +served after some waiting. A big dog which had +followed them from the street stood with wagging +tail in the entry.</p> + +<p>Robert Lisle looked at Patty with a smile. “Shall +we let him stay?”</p> + +<p>“Oh do,” she made reply. “Perhaps he belongs +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_143"></span> +to someone who lives here; at any rate he is doing +no harm.” So Master Dog was allowed to remain. +Patty stroked his soft ears and spoke a few words to +him after which he lay down, evidently quite encouraged +by what she said. As they came out of the +<i>comedor</i> the dog was feasting on a plate of broken +pieces which had been set for him by one of the +maids.</p> + +<p>“You see,” said Patty, “he does belong in this +house. Probably he came with someone who takes +his meals here.” However, when at last they were +ready to go, the dog having consumed a second plate +of food started to follow them again. “Oh, we +mustn’t let him, must we?” said Patty. “He might +get lost. Dear doggie, although we feel quite flattered +by your evident favor we cannot take you with +us.” She turned to the mistress of the house who +was passing through the entry: “Your dog wants +to go with us. Perhaps you’d better keep him with +you for awhile.”</p> + +<p>“My dog!” The woman’s face dropped. “Is he +not yours?”</p> + +<p>“Not ours; no indeed.”</p> + +<p>“And I have ordered Maria to give him two plates +of dinner,” she exclaimed. “The beast!”</p> + +<p>“Oh, never mind,” cried Patty, hurriedly taking +out her purse and handing out a peseta; “that will +pay for his dinner.”</p> + +<p>“We don’t grudge him a little food,” said the +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_144"></span> +woman, softening before this generosity, “but to +steal in that way and impose himself upon us.”</p> + +<p>“But it was so clever,” argued Patty, stroking the +dog’s head as he stood looking from one to the +other with wistful eyes. “He must belong to someone; +he is far too nice a dog to be a stray, and I +think he showed great cleverness to come in here +with us.” All this was said in rather halting Spanish, +but the woman understood and having been well +paid, quite agreed with the señorita that it was a +very clever dog.</p> + +<p>“If I didn’t believe he would find his master,” said +Patty to her companion, “I’d ask Juan to let us take +him home.”</p> + +<p>“And you already have Guido.”</p> + +<p>“Yes, but you needn’t be jealous for Guido; he is +in clover. Juan is negotiating for a donkey cart, and +then his work will begin.”</p> + +<p>“I can imagine what desperate burdens you will +impose upon him. I can fancy your always walking +up hill.”</p> + +<p>“Just you wait and see. Now I know how strong +the <i>burros</i> are I am going to make the most of Master +Guido, though of course, I shall not want him +overworked.”</p> + +<p>They had promised Doña Elvira to take <i>merienda</i> +with her, and therefore all turned in the direction +of Don Amable’s house after some sauntering about +the town. The place was gay enough now; merry-go-rounds +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_145"></span> +were in lively competitions, vendors of +sweets and balloons drove a good trade, and every +house appeared to have emptied itself upon the +streets. The principal houses were preparing for +illumination and were thronged with guests. At +Don Amable’s quite a company had gathered, and at +four o’clock <i>merienda</i> was served, chocolate and +cakes, wines and fruit, nuts and various sweets. +Did the <i>Inglesas</i> prefer tea or coffee it could be offered, +but the <i>Inglesas</i> preferred the excellent chocolate +to the probably poor tea, declined cigarettes +and partook of the appetizing little cakes.</p> + +<p>Soon it was train time. Don Amable would see +them to the station. The other guests with many a +“<i>Vaya V. con Dios</i>,” “<i>A los pies de V.</i>” and “<i>Beso á +V. la mano</i>,” bowed them out and they took their +way through the quaint streets and under gray +archways to the station, leaving the little wooden +Virgin to the quiet of the dim church, but Don +Felipe in the society of the handsome widow.</p> + +<p>Tomás was not at home when they arrived, but +Guido’s muzzle was thrust over the opening in the +stable door and he gave a welcoming bray as he +saw them approaching. The little village, however, +seemed very quiet and more than ever afar from +the haunts of men, with its sheltering mountains +to keep off rough winds and its winding stream to +feed its gardens.</p> + +<p>“It is not like old Kentucky,” Patty observed to +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_146"></span> +her sister, “but, after all, it isn’t a bad place to stay +in and one could give the home touch to the house +in time.”</p> + +<p>Doña Martina gave a little sigh. “Yes, so one +can, and I hope to, but when I think of living here +a lifetime and perhaps losing you, Patty, it seems +rather a desolate outlook.”</p> + +<p>“Losing me?”</p> + +<p>“Yes. I know I must in time, though if it should +happen to be Tomás, we could be together as neighbors +and as then it would not be so hard. There +are only two of us left, and it would be hard to +part.”</p> + +<p>“But there is Juan.”</p> + +<p>“Yes, but dear as he is, one does like one’s very +own with whom one has been brought up, whose +ways are the same, who understands something else +than a Spanish point of view.”</p> + +<p>“I see,” said Patty thoughtfully.</p> + +<p>“Juan felt the same, no doubt,” Doña Martina +went on. “I know he pined for these mountains, +this very little village. I didn’t understand then +why it was that I couldn’t make up for it all; now +I do.”</p> + +<p>Patty went up and put her arms around her sister. +“Dear old Tina,” she said, “we mustn’t live apart; +it wouldn’t do for either of us. I may be a wretched +nuisance and an awful tease, but you are my all, +Tina dear, and though I seem to conceal the fact +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_147"></span> +sometimes, you are the most precious sister in the +world.”</p> + +<p>Perhaps it was because of this talk that Robert +Lisle saw no more of Patty that evening, and that +she elected to go off with Don Juan for a walk, +leaving Robert to Paulette’s tender mercies. It is +at least quite sure that the young man, when smoking +his final pipe that evening, contemplated writing +another letter to the quiet girl, and told himself that +memories were the easiest things in the world to +disinter, provided there were given sufficient cause +for so doing. He did not finish his pipe, and it was +not to Miss Moffatt that he gave his last waking +thought.</p> + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + + +<div class="chapter"> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_148"></span><h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_XI">CHAPTER <abbr title="Eleven">XI</abbr></h2> +<h3> +GIPSIES</h3></div> + + +<p>As if by common consent, Patty and Robert Lisle +saw little of one another during the next few days. +It was the season of the year when one <i>fiesta</i> was +followed closely by another with a <i>feria</i> or two interspersed. +The haying was over and this harvest +was one which called men, women, and children +into the field. Those too poor to possess a cow and +cart, carried home their bundles of hay upon their +heads, even the little children bearing as much as +their powers would permit. It was not an infrequent +sight to see grandmother, mother, and two or +three children bowed under loads which nearly hid +them from view. It was, therefore, not remarkable +that a <i>fiesta</i> at the close of the haying harvest +should be held in honor of the Madonna, who, for +purposes best suited to her worshipers, was called +<i>Nuestra Señora del Henar</i>, Our Lady of the +Hay. As each little pueblo favored some special +saint or Madonna, the country-side swarmed with +gipsies, mendicants, halt or maimed, blind musicians +and strolling players, all of whom were much +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_149"></span> +in evidence whenever a fête or a fair was in +progress.</p> + +<p>Many were the tales told the <i>Inglesas</i> of miracles +performed by the saints, tales which Patty declared +were not more wonderful than those the nuns in +France had related to her, and she in return would +recount to Manuela or Anita or Consuelo the +legends which she knew. In these they delighted, +and she was looked upon as less of a heretic than +had been supposed.</p> + +<p>Especially did Patty enjoy Perdita’s stories, +which had been told the young peasant girl by her +old grandmother, whom Don Juan had treated so +successfully, and there was scarce a day that Perdita +did not appear, it might be with no better present +than a bunch of wild flowers or a couple of new-laid +eggs, but she always brought something. Don +Juan, it may be said in passing, was acquiring such +a reputation among the peasantry that he was +obliged to set aside a certain hour in the day when +he would receive his charity patients.</p> + +<p>“I don’t see why he doesn’t hang out his sign +and practise regularly,” said Patty to her sister.</p> + +<p>“Oh, my dear, it wouldn’t be wise. A certificate +legalizing him to do so would cost several hundred +dollars and these poor people could never pay the +fees he ought to ask. He would get nothing from +most and those who could pay at all would think +a peseta or two quite enough for a visit. Now, as +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_150"></span> +it is, you see, they help out the larder with many a +present, and in many ways make it easy for us. +While Juan is here doing this special writing he’d +better not practise regularly, for his book will be +more profitable. When he gets quite strong again +we shall see what is to be done.”</p> + +<p>It was one morning just before the feast of the +Hay that Perdita appeared with a small cheese for +the Señor Doctor. Patty stopped on the way out. +“Perdita,” she said, “I want to ask you about the +gipsies. Are you in a hurry to-day?”</p> + +<p>“No, señorita. But the gipsies have the evil eye +and one must be careful, very careful. My grandmother +tells me to avoid them.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, but I want to see them. Did you never +have your fortune told?”</p> + +<p>Perdita hung her head. “No, señorita, but I +should like to. One must have silver for them, you +see, and silver is not so plentiful.”</p> + +<p>“Tell me about your home. I should like to see +where you live. Is it far?”</p> + +<p>“It is perhaps two miles. We are not so badly +off. We have our little house, some land, a cow, a +pig, chickens. It is hard work for us to attend to +all, but now the hay is in it will be easier.”</p> + +<p>“Do you do all the work?”</p> + +<p>“Most of it. The grandmother is getting old, +yet she always is telling me I needn’t work so hard.”</p> + +<p>“Why?”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="page_151"></span> +“I do not know. She is mysterious sometimes.”</p> + +<p>“Has she a hoard, do you think? Money saved?”</p> + +<p>Perdita shook her head. “Of that I cannot be +sure, but when a thing is needed there is always +money for it. I have my Asturian dress, as handsome +as any; it is of good stuff, and my ornaments, +too, are not bad, my chain and brooch. Some day +I hope I may have earrings of the old sort.”</p> + +<p>“I noticed how fine you were the first time I saw +you, and I said then you seemed superior to the +rest. Your mother is not living?”</p> + +<p>“No, señorita, she died when I was born.”</p> + +<p>“And your father?”</p> + +<p>“I do not know where he is. I have often asked +my grandmother, but she does not like to talk of +him. She tells me I have seen him, that my mother +died a year after she was married and then my +father took me in his arms and swore I should never +come to want, and so I never have.”</p> + +<p>“But how strange, if he be living, that he does +not come to you.”</p> + +<p>“I will tell you what I think, señorita. I think +he has gone to America, to Cuba or Mexico, maybe, +and that some day he will come back.”</p> + +<p>“Yes, that might be very possible, so many do +that.”</p> + +<p>“It is what the señor doctor thinks, too, and so +I look forward to the return.”</p> + +<p>“How nice it would be to have him come back. +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_152"></span> +He would, perhaps, give you fine clothes and build +a nice house like other Americanos do who return +to their villages. No doubt he is waiting to +make a fortune for you. Of course you know his +name.”</p> + +<p>“Yes, it is Pedro. I was named Perdita because +my father lost his wife when I came into the world. +Perdita Gonzalez I am called.”</p> + +<p>“Gonzalez is your father’s name?”</p> + +<p>“No; I take my mother’s name. You know it +is so done in Spain, at least the mother’s name is +written last.”</p> + +<p>“I remember that now. Then your father’s name +is Pedro—what?”</p> + +<p>“Pedro Ramon, my grandmother says.”</p> + +<p>“You never write to him?”</p> + +<p>“No; yet I can write, señorita, and read. I can +embroider, too. That I do in the long winter evenings. +I will bring you a piece of my embroidery.”</p> + +<p>“You are too generous, Perdita, but I should like +to see it. I notice that most of the Spanish girls +embroider. I see them sitting in front of their +doorways with their embroidery frames, and I like +to watch them. Are you fond of reading? Perhaps +we could lend you some books.”</p> + +<p>Perdita’s brown cheek took on a slight tinge of +color. “I have a friend who lends me books sometimes,” +she said hesitatingly. “The <i>cura</i> will not +always let me read them. He is very particular +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_153"></span> +and there are but few books he approves. He says +a woman does not need to read any more romantic +and beautiful tales than the lives of the saints, but +my friend says our good old <i>padre</i> is narrow minded +and that while it used to be the fashion for women +in Spain to be content with knowing little, to-day +they are striving for knowledge, and many of them +are so highly educated as to put to shame the +women of other countries. I should like to be educated, +señorita, but a peasant girl like me—” She +stopped with an expressive gesture.</p> + +<p>“You don’t seem in the least like a peasant girl, +Perdita. Perhaps when your father comes home +he will allow you to have a governess and to learn +languages. If one knows languages and the literature +of the various countries one is really well educated. +Suppose I begin to teach you French or +English. French would be more useful, perhaps. +Would you like that?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, señorita, I should like it very much, but—”</p> + +<p>“You have not the time? An hour or even half +an hour a day would do wonders.”</p> + +<p>“It is not that, señorita, but I should not like to +take your time.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, my time is of no value, though if you feel +that way about it, you can exchange with me and +I will take Spanish conversation from you. Don +Tomás is very good about helping us, but neither +Mlle. Delambre nor myself like to call upon him too +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_154"></span> +often. My brother-in-law says you speak very +good Spanish.”</p> + +<p>“Yes, señorita, my grandmother is particular that +I should. She belongs to a good family; they have +their coat-of-arms, but they became impoverished +and, like many others, had to work in the fields. +There is an old, a very old house which belongs to +my grandfather’s family and one can see the old +escutcheon in stone upon the walls, though the family +are very poor now.”</p> + +<p>“I can understand that. It is so in my own part +of the country. There are many who before our +civil war had wealth and have had to sell their fine +old houses and who have to toil for their daily +bread. How we have run off the track. I began +to talk of the gipsies, and here I am forgetting all +about them. Perdita, I want very much to have +my fortune told, but I do not want anyone to know +it. I think I could understand sufficiently well now, +and if not you could explain afterward. Could you +go with me to a gipsy camp? Is there one near by? +Could we go without anyone’s knowing?”</p> + +<p>Perdita thought over this for a moment. “Yes, +señorita, I think I can manage it,” she said presently. +“To-morrow, if you will go home with me, +we shall pass a gipsy camp. It is not far. I will +show you my embroideries after we have seen the +gipsies. We must not be too late, for my grandmother +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_155"></span> +does not like me near the camp late in the +day.”</p> + +<p>“That is a lovely plan, and you are very good to +think of it. I will be ready by the time you come +for me, and no one will be the wiser. Must you go +now? Let me give you two or three French sentences +to say over as you are walking home.”</p> + +<p>Perdita obediently repeated the words, and Patty +watched her tall, supple figure mount the hill behind +the house.</p> + +<p>But no one was told of the plan to visit Perdita +until the next day when the peasant girl appeared, +and then Patty put her head into the room where her +sister was. “I am going home with Perdita to see +her embroideries,” she announced.</p> + +<p>“With Perdita?” said Doña Martina.</p> + +<p>“Yes. She was here yesterday, and we had a +long, interesting talk, in the course of which I improved +my Spanish. In two months of steady +study I have become fairly proficient, don’t you +think?”</p> + +<p>“You have certainly not wasted your time. Juan +was saying yesterday that your progress was surprising. +Well, I suppose there is no objection to +your going with Perdita. I’d like to go myself, but +I can’t this morning. How about Paulette? Have +you asked her?”</p> + +<p>“No, and she wouldn’t care to go. She isn’t interested +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_156"></span> +in any embroideries but her own. Besides, +I heard her say that Don Felipe would be here this +morning, and had promised to bring a rare old missal +to show her; she’d rather stay and see that, but +I will ask her, though I know she won’t go.”</p> + +<p>Having smoothed the way for her expedition, +Patty started off with Perdita. They soon left the +village behind them, and by one of the winding +roads climbed the mountain. Once in a while the +buzzing, droning sound of an approaching cow-cart +reached them on the narrow way, but the slow-stepping +cows always gave them plenty of time to +move aside. “I used to wonder why they never +greased their carts,” said Patty, looking after one +which had just passed, “but now I know; it is because +the creak serves as a warning to get out of +the way.”</p> + +<p>“It is not only that,” rejoined Perdita, “but the +noise keeps the devils away.”</p> + +<p>“I should think it would be a most efficient means +of doing that,” Patty replied, laughing.</p> + +<p>Near a little stream, leaping its course toward +the valley, they came upon the gipsy camp. Their +first knowledge of it was derived from the sudden +appearance of three impish looking little creatures, +who were dancing forward and poking out their +fingers at a turkey gobbler, which they were challenging +in some outlandish tongue. When he +stretched out his neck and gobbled, making as if to +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_157"></span> +run at them, they shrieked with glee and raced off, +half in fear, half in bravado. The eldest was the +ringleader, and was by far the most fascinating, +Patty thought. Around her brown, naked, little +body she had wound a strip of scarlet cloth; this +she clutched with one hand, to prevent its dropping +from her utterly. When she ran the scarlet ends +trailed after her, discovering bare arms, legs, and +thighs. Her black elfish locks hung around her +face, and her burning dark eyes were full of mischief.</p> + +<p>“What an enticing little creature,” said Patty, +standing still. At the appearance of the two strangers +the children first fled away startled, but +presently she of the scarlet cloth returned and +whined out a petition for a penny. “You are certainly +worth it,” said Patty, in English, as she deposited +a <i>perrono</i> in the dirty little hand. The +child stared, showed her white teeth, dextrously +tied the coin in a fold of her rags and ran off. The +girls followed and presently a pretty woman came +forward, walking with that peculiar movement of +the hips practised by these gipsies and considered +quite an elegant accomplishment. Dirty she was +beyond words, but this did not disguise her beautiful +face nor lessen the glory of her lustrous eyes.</p> + +<p>Could she tell the <i>señorita’s</i> fortune? Cross her +palm with silver and it should be done.</p> + +<p>“I suppose I’d better make it worth while to have +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_158"></span> +a fair fortune,” said Patty, opening her purse and +handing out a two <i>peseta</i> piece, a larger sum than +was expected, without doubt.</p> + +<p>“<i>Dame la mano, señorita</i>,” said the gipsy. Patty +held out her hands and the woman gazed at the rosy +palm earnestly. “You have crossed the water,” she +said at last, “and will cross it again more than once. +A fair-haired woman is your rival, but she is a +stranger to you. There are two men who desire to +marry you. Like yourself, one comes from across +the water. The other does not. He is small, dark +and has wealth. I do not see great money for you, +however, yet you will never come to want. You +will not rise to great estate, but you will have happiness. +You are of a merry, joyous disposition, yet +it is hard to discover your true heart. You will +love deeply and sacrifice much for that love. I see +death which will affect someone near you.”</p> + +<p>This talk of death scared Patty, who withdrew +her hand. “That will do, thank you,” she said.</p> + +<p>“It is a good fortune? Enough?” asked the +gipsy.</p> + +<p>“Quite enough. Now read my friend’s hand.” +She produced another <i>peseta</i>, and before Perdita +could expostulate had handed it over and Perdita +was urged to extend her palm.</p> + +<p>The gipsy looked long and intently, frequently +following the lines with her dirty finger or raising +her eyes to look searchingly into Perdita’s face, muttering +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_159"></span> +sometimes to herself. “It is strange, very +strange,” she said at last. “You are born in a peasant’s +home, yet you come of good station. You are +not what you seem. Yes, yes, the lover must hesitate, +he cannot do otherwise; he does not know. +Here is a death—oh, yes, that will change all. You +will then be a lady and possess great estates. I see +them everywhere; in the mountains, in the valleys +and your lover—”</p> + +<p>“Will he be true?” breathed Perdita through +parted lips.</p> + +<p>“He will be true. There is the cross of marriage +for you, but death will come first. One who is near +you will die—an old person.”</p> + +<p>“My grandmother, maybe?”</p> + +<p>“No, a man it is. I see many strange things, but +a good ending. You love above your station and +this love is a sorrow to you, but all ends well.”</p> + +<p>The girls had heard enough and were ready to +go, but their departure was delayed by swarming +children begging for pennies, the inconsiderate display +of wealth by the first little girl being too much +for their cupidity. So it was with difficulty that +Patty got away with a penny in her purse; indeed, +she did give up all her pennies, reserving only the +silver.</p> + +<p>“What did you think of it, Perdita?” she asked, +when they were fairly free from the itching palms. +“Did you ever know such filth, and wasn’t the fortune-teller +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_160"></span> +a beauty? Shall you tell your grandmother +about what she said?”</p> + +<p>“No, señorita; she would disapprove. Better say +nothing. It is all foolishness of course.”</p> + +<p>“Yes, of course—but—”</p> + +<p>Perdita nodded. “I understand—but—”</p> + +<p>They were both silent for a moment, then Patty +said, “Do you think any of it could be true?”</p> + +<p>“Some of it was true,” replied Perdita, crossing +herself. “I shall have to confess it to the <i>cura</i> and +I will do penance, yet somehow I am not sorry to +have heard what she said.”</p> + +<p>“Nor I. There was a great deal about deaths +and things that I didn’t like; that seemed silly, I +thought. By the time I have done with making +wishes for <i>inxanos</i> and hearing fortunes from gipsies +I shall be as superstitious as any old woman; +I must stop it.”</p> + +<p>They followed the road to the house of Perdita’s +grandmother, a low white dwelling in the style of +most, though better than many. It had balconies +above, the patio below, the hay-loft at the side, the +<i>orrio</i> a little beyond the house. This small grain +house, peculiar to this part of Spain, stood upon +four piles of stones, four or five feet high; on these +were placed stone slabs to keep out the rats and mice. +It was covered with a thatch of straw and added to +the picturesque aspect of the little farmstead. The +house was neat and clean and fairly well furnished. +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_161"></span> +Old Catalina, with her black handkerchief tied over +her head, was the very type of the ordinary peasant, +and Patty decided that it was not from her grandmother +that Perdita inherited her beauty. The old +woman did not talk much, but Patty felt that she +was closely scrutinized. Perdita displayed her +beautiful embroidery and pressed one piece after +another upon her guest, till Patty felt that she did +not dare to admire, lest she be called upon to accept +it all. She suddenly realized, however, that this +was the Spanish form of politeness, and was as profuse +in her gracious refusals as Perdita in her offers, +so the matter was adjusted.</p> + +<p>They walked back together to the edge of town, +where Perdita left her visitor, promising to come +the next day for a lesson in French. She had already +learned perfectly the few sentences Patty had +taught her and was eager for more.</p> + +<p>Don Felipe was on hand when Patty came in and +she felt that she was expected to listen to his little +set speeches and flowery compliments for the rest of +the evening. But that night, as she was leaning +over the balcony looking at the starlight on the +mountains, her sister came to her side. “What +are you thinking about, Patty?” she said. “You +haven’t answered, though I called you twice. +Where is the letter you wanted to show me, the one +from Uncle Henry?”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="page_162"></span> +“I was wondering what was the color of Miss +Moffatt’s hair,” was the answer.</p> + +<p>“Miss Moffatt? Who in the world is she?”</p> + +<p>“Oh, I forgot; you don’t know her. Never mind. +Uncle Henry’s letter is on the table in my book of +Spanish verbs.” She did not offer to get it, but +stood leaning on the ledge, thinking, thinking long +after the lights were out.</p> + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + + +<div class="chapter"> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_163"></span><h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_XII">CHAPTER <abbr title="Twelve">XII</abbr></h2> +<h3>TOMÁS TELLS</h3></div> + + +<p>The gipsy was not far wrong in her estimate of +the Glad Lady, “La Señorita Alegra,” as Perdita +called her. She was more thoughtful than the +casual observer gave her credit for being, and in +spite of her gay sallies and pretended whimsies, +there was, deep down in her heart, a steadfastness +and loyalty which circumstance and experience +would more fully develop. She had not the slightest +idea of flirting with Tomás, and indeed their +acquaintance was of the most sensible kind, in spite +of the fact that the girl did her best to convey to +her sister the impression that it was otherwise. +Though Doña Martina had long held the position +of mentor, she had not always exerted her authority +with discretion, so that now, when Patty had left +school, she rather resented the elder’s attitude and +took the bit between her teeth with an intention of +going her own gait. Even as a child she had rebelled +against her sister’s attempts at coercion, +once saying plaintively: “It isn’t that I don’t want +to mind Tina, but it is the way she tries to force +me that makes me disobey.” And in this case it +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_164"></span> +was the way the law was enforced rather than the +law itself which aroused Patty’s opposition. She +would not have made Tomás unhappy for the world, +and had long since discovered that she could not if +she would, for she suspected that his heart beat fast +at the approach of some other than herself. It was +not Paulette, of that she was convinced, nor was it +the handsome widowed daughter of Don Amable +who brought a flush to his cheek and fire to his eye. +In these last days Patty had discovered more than +she was disposed to tell anyone, and the gipsy’s fortune-telling +had but corroborated her suspicions. +It was Perdita in whom Tomás was interested, and +it was Tomás whom Perdita loved. She was so +beautiful, it was not surprising, Patty reflected, +that she should have attracted Tomás, and in those +long months after his mother’s death, and before +the arrival of his brother, he must have been lonely +and it was no wonder he turned to someone and +that the someone should be Perdita. The little village +afforded few companions of the better class, +the <i>padre</i>, the schoolmaster and his wife, and in +summer one or two families who came up from +Oviedo for a change of air, so unless he went to +the larger towns near by, Tomás must seek such +society as opportunity afforded.</p> + +<p>As for Perdita, she was closely watched by her +grandmother, and had no intimates among the girls +of the pueblo. Living as she did some distance +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_165"></span> +away, she had few chances of meeting, as the other +girls did, her friends at the <i>fuente</i> or on the <i>plaza</i>. +While all liked her, there was a little air of aloofness +about her which prevented a too great familiarity, +and she was called very proud.</p> + +<p>Patty was not only tender-hearted, but romantic. +Moreover, she appreciated less than one born under +a monarchy, the differences in station, and she determined +that so far as in her lay she would further +the affair of Tomás and Perdita. She laughed a +little to herself as she made certain plans. It would +be great fun to mislead Tina by making her suppose +it was entirely for her own ends that she lured +Tomás off to take walks with her in order that they +might meet Perdita somewhere along the way, or +that she should urge him to join herself and Perdita +in the little summer house where the daily lesson +was had. Perhaps she realized, and perhaps she +did not, that these daily meetings were golden opportunities +for the pair, who had rarely seen each +other of late, or at least had seldom met to have any +word with one another.</p> + +<p>It would be lovely, Patty thought, if it should +turn out that she would eventually inherit something +from that Americano father of hers. “I am +sure no one could then object,” she told herself. +“As it is, the Estradas are so proud that Juan would +be shooting mad if Tomás suggested such a thing, +and what a pity that the two brothers should quarrel +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_166"></span> +just as they have been reunited. For my part,” +her thoughts ran on, “I don’t see why Tomás hasn’t +just as much right to marry out of his class as Juan +did to marry out of his country.”</p> + +<p>With these thoughts in her mind, the girl went +singing down the steps the morning after her visit +to the gipsies, pausing at the foot to give a gay +“<i>Buenas dias</i>,” to Tomás standing in the doorway.</p> + +<p>“Goodth morning, gladth ladthy,” responded +Tomás. “You are look happy as a roses. You +have been sleeping well, yes?”</p> + +<p>“Very well.” Patty looked at him with a quizzical +expression in her eyes and then laughed outright. +It was so funny to be possessed of his secret and to +have him in ignorance of her knowing.</p> + +<p>“You are very gladth?” Tomás said inquiringly. +“Something agreeable has happen-ed?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, something agreeable is always happening, +every day. Tomás, don’t you think Perdita is an +uncommonly pretty girl?” She went nearer to him +and looked up in his face.</p> + +<p>He started, but immediately became composed +and began slowly to roll another cigarette before he +answered, “She is very pretty says everyone. It is +not a new discovery, is it?”</p> + +<p>“Oh, no, not at all, but she is really beautiful +with those glorious eyes and that wonderful hair; +then she has such a graceful svelt figure, so erect +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_167"></span> +and splendid in a way. I never saw a girl I admired +more. They say that in Andalusia one finds +the most beautiful Spanish women, but surely none +could exceed Perdita in looks. She is very intelligent, +too, I find. Someone has been lending her +books; I wonder who.”</p> + +<p>Tomás did not reply at once. “The schoolmaster, +Don Miguel, perhaps,” he said after a moment.</p> + +<p>Patty smiled. She had her own suspicions, but +it was evident Tomás was on his guard. She +put another question. “Did you know she is studying +French with me?”</p> + +<p>Tomás was not to be caught. “Yes; so Martina +said.”</p> + +<p>Patty watched him run his tongue along the +paper to seal his cigarette. There was a smile on +her lips and laughter in her eyes as she said, “Oh, +Tomás, Tomás, I am afraid that it is you Tina +should bring to task for flirting. Aren’t you +ashamed to play with poor Perdita’s heart?”</p> + +<p>The hand which held the cigarette trembled so +that the match went out. “<i>Caracoles!</i>” exclaimed +Tomás under his breath.</p> + +<p>“Snails!” cried Patty. “I always think that is +such a lovely swear; it sounds so dreadful and +means so little. I am wondering, however, if you +intended it for me or the match.” She laughed +teasingly. “I was thinking,” she went on, “that +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_168"></span> +maybe you would like to join my French class. It +would be useful to know French, you see, when you +go to France to marry Paulette.”</p> + +<p>“Paulette!” Tomás was taken off his guard, and +felt himself in a mesh. He couldn’t be rude and run +away; there was no one about and there was no +excuse. “You don’t mind my cigarette?” He +made the query lamely, for he knew she did not +in the least mind.</p> + +<p>“Oh, no,” was the answer. “Why should I suddenly +conceive a dislike to tobacco smoke when I +have been used to it all my life? You haven’t answered +my question, Tomás. Should you like to +join our class, Perdita’s and mine? Although I +must say it seems rather tragic to ask you to study +with Perdita in order that you may be proficient +when you go to France to live.”</p> + +<p>“I to live in France? Never.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, but Tomás, Polly is a nice girl, not high-born, +maybe, but her money would make you so +comfortable.”</p> + +<p>“<i>Diablo!</i>” cried Tomás. “I wish not be more +comfortable. I am comfortable enough.”</p> + +<p>“I shouldn’t gather so from your expression. +You are so violent this morning,” Patty continued +mildly. “I wonder what is the matter. You are +usually so sweet-tempered, Tomás. Juan is the +peppery one. Then you don’t want to study +French?”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="page_169"></span> +Tomás puffed at his cigarette and made no reply +for a moment, then in an altered tone, he said, +“Pattee, what is it you try do? Are you but torment +me, or have you a reason for do this?”</p> + +<p>“Nice sensible child,” said Patty, “you have at +last arrived at a sane condition of mind. Come out +into the summer-house and I will tell you.”</p> + +<p>The little summer-house, clothed in vines, was a +sure and safe retreat. No one would be liable to +interrupt them here unless they were specially +sought out, yet it was near enough to the house to +observe any comings or goings. There was a long +bench on one side, two stools on the other and a +rude table in the middle, where <i>merienda</i> could be +served. “You see,” began Patty, seating herself +on one of the stools and resting her elbows on the +table, “I know you can not visit Perdita openly on +Juan’s account and for other reasons, and I am willing +to help you two, but first I must be satisfied that +you are not trifling. Perdita is too fine, too good +for you to treat shabbily, to make unhappy, and I +won’t have it. If you are just playing with her +I shall make all the mischief I can, if by so doing +I can put a stop to your philandering.” She was +waxing very indignant as she considered that this +might be the state of affairs. “You shall not make +her unhappy,” she repeated.</p> + +<p>Tomás gave a long sigh and gazed off with melancholy +eyes at the blue mountains. “My dear +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_170"></span> +Pattee, what can I do? My brother has just return +to me in poor health, in nerves, in weakness. Shall +I arouse the anger, destroy the health, make him unhappiness, +and drive him from the home of youth +by what I would do? I know too well his opinions, +and so—we wait—that is all to do, to wait.”</p> + +<p>“I understand all that,” returned Patty, “and I +wish to help you, but only if you mean well, if you +mean not to trifle with Perdita.”</p> + +<p>“I mean well, the best. She is, as you say, so +beautiful, so fine, so good, so worthy. I give her +all the heart.” He spoke with emotion, stretching +out his open palms upon the table.</p> + +<p>“Then I will do all I can for you, Tomás, and it +seems to me that as no one suspects the truth, it +will be better if you two meet when I am a third, +so that the surmise will be that it is I who am the +attraction. I have an idea that Paulette has suspicions. +She is very clever about such things, that +Polly, and she may tell my sister. I am not sure +that she has not already, for Tina was asking me +some searching questions yesterday. I would +rather she should think that you and I are having +a desperate affair than that she should tell Juan +and have him angry with you and Perdita. You +understand?”</p> + +<p>“Oh, yes, I undtherstandth.”</p> + +<p>“Perdita must understand, too. I wonder—” +Patty paused. She wondered if Perdita had been +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_171"></span> +made to suffer in those early days when Tomás had +been pressed into service every day and hour, and +when there could have been no chance for the lovers +to meet. She did not forget the little chapel with +the figure of the girl kneeling before the shrine, the +beautiful, unhappy, upturned face. Her intuitions +told her that Perdita had been made unhappy because +she believed that Tomás had transferred his +affections to herself. She must know better now, +or she would not be so friendly. “Unless,” Patty +spoke out, “she is a saint, and I don’t believe she +is quite that.”</p> + +<p>“What are you to say?” asked Tomás.</p> + +<p>“Oh, nothing. I was thinking aloud. Tomás, +do you know anything of Perdita’s father?”</p> + +<p>“No,” he shook his head.</p> + +<p>“What do the people about here say?”</p> + +<p>“They say he has gone to America to make a +fortune for his daughter. They say he broke the +heart when the mother of her is to die, and that he +will not return till he have the richness to give this +child of his.”</p> + +<p>“If he should return with money, do you think +that would make any difference in Juan’s feeling?”</p> + +<p>“It is not the money; it is the family. The +Estradas do not marry peasants, he has said so +once very meaningly.”</p> + +<p>“Yes, I supposed he would say that. Then, as +you say, there is nothing to do but to wait. Perdita +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_172"></span> +could not leave her grandmother now, anyhow, +but later on, when Juan is quite well, you might go +to America and take Perdita with you. Perhaps +you could find out where her father is and go there. +Why not? <i>Mañana, mañana</i>, yes, Tomás, this is +a time when <i>mañana</i> is a wise thought. Meantime, +I will keep your secret, for I like you and I am +very fond of Perdita.” She held out her hand +across the table. Tomás bent his head and kissed +it. At the same moment Doña Martina paused in +the doorway.</p> + +<p>“So this is where you two are,” she said. “We +have been wondering what had become of you. +There is a <i>feria</i> going on near Ribadesella and you +should see the people coming in with their droves +of wild ponies from the mountains, and, oh, the +cheeses! the odor of them fills the air. I am surprised +you haven’t noticed the noise and clatter outside.”</p> + +<p>“We have been busy talking.” Patty looked conscious +as she made the excuse.</p> + +<p>“Well, heaven knows, you have opportunities +enough for talking, but you, Patty, can’t see wild +ponies every day. Come up on the balcony with me. +I have no doubt Tomás has seen <i>ferias</i> by the score.”</p> + +<p>Patty followed meekly. Her sister looked at her +sharply once or twice. After a while she put an +arm around her. “Well, Patty?” she said.</p> + +<p>“Well?”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="page_173"></span> +“That was a pretty scene from the doorway of +the summer-house.”</p> + +<p>“Yes, I always did think that such a very pretty +scene from that point,” returned Patty with a great +show of enthusiasm.</p> + +<p>Her sister withdrew her arm and led the way to +the house without another word.</p> + +<p>“Now she’s mad,” thought Patty. “But what +could I do or say other than I did?”</p> + +<p>There was no French lesson that afternoon, for +the ladies were whirled away in Don Felipe’s coach +to the <i>feria</i>, which, after all, was not much of a +sight. A great many very dirty gipsies were much +in evidence, this being the occasion for a great trading +of horses, mules and donkeys; there were numerous +booths for eating and drinking, strolling +musicians trolled out their ditties, and dancing went +on beyond the cattle pens.</p> + +<p>Since the affair of the donkey, Patty had not +shown much favor to the old don, who now turned +his attentions to Paulette and received sufficient encouragement +for Patty to wonder if her friend +really would marry him if the opportunity afforded. +Once during the afternoon, Patty caught sight of +the yellow kerchief and silver ornaments of the +pretty fortune-teller, but made haste to turn in another +direction, desiring no recognition. She did +not enjoy the afternoon very much, feeling something +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_174"></span> +lacking, whether the presence of Tomás or +someone else she would not question.</p> + +<p>Paulette, on the contrary, was in high feather. +She had taken pleasure in walking about with Don +Felipe strutting by her side, and in seeing that they +were remarked by so many. “They remind me of +a little buff hen and a tiny Bantam rooster,” Patty +remarked to her sister when they were following in +the wake of the pair.</p> + +<p>“You are always so severe on the poor little don,” +said Doña Martina. “I am sure he can’t help being +so small.”</p> + +<p>“He can help being so deadly important. He +always reminds me of that line in the Psalter, where +it speaks of those with ‘a proud look and a high +stomach.’ I never appreciated it quite so much as +since I met Don Felipe.”</p> + +<p>“But you enjoyed riding in his coach.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, not so very much. I think Paulette enjoyed +it more. I’d much rather have come with Tomás +in the little cart and have driven my dear <i>asnillo</i>.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, I suppose so. Anywhere so you are alone +with Tomás.”</p> + +<p>“Yes; aren’t you glad we should have become +such good friends?” returned Patty heartily. At +this juncture, Don Felipe paused before a booth, +where he ordered refreshments, and Doña Martina +had no opportunity of answering.</p> + +<p>A couple of saucy Gallegos paused before the +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_175"></span> +party to improvise ditties in praise of the strangers, +a proceeding which always amused bystanders and +one to which the <i>Inglesas</i> had become accustomed, +so they were in nowise abashed in being relegated +to high places or in being complimented as highly +as flowery phrases would admit. They knew they +would be expected to pay for the flattery and meantime +it was rather amusing to discover how ingenious +the singers could be.</p> + +<p>When they reached home Tomás was absent, but +he came in later and a significant glance passed between +him and Patty, which was followed up +later by the whispered question, “Have you seen +her?”</p> + +<p>“Yes,” came the answer.</p> + +<p>“She understands?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, and will come to-morrow.”</p> + +<p>“It seems to me that you and Tomás have a great +many secrets,” said Paulette that evening, when she +and Patty were preparing for bed.</p> + +<p>“Yes, it is nice, isn’t it, to have confidences with +one’s sister’s new brother. I quite enjoy it, never +having had a brother of my own. And have you no +secrets, Polly?”</p> + +<p>Paulette considered before she answered, “Not +yet.”</p> + +<p>Patty came over and sat on the arm of Paulette’s +chair. “Would you really marry Don Felipe, if he +asked you?” she inquired.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="page_176"></span> +“Why not? He is a great match. My guardian +would be greatly pleased.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, dear, but do you love him?”</p> + +<p>“Why should I? He is rich and no doubt would +make an excellent husband. What more could I +ask?”</p> + +<p>“I suppose,” said Patty running her fingers +through Paulette’s bright hair, “that it is enough +for you, but it wouldn’t be for me. I should die, +die, die.” She emphasized the words with a tap of +her finger on Paulette’s head.</p> + +<p>“I would not do that. I would live and very +happily in that great <i>palacio</i>.”</p> + +<p>“Which you pretended I was welcome to when I +suggested Tomás and love in a cottage.”</p> + +<p>“Ah, yes, but—Tomás—”</p> + +<p>“What of him?”</p> + +<p>“Has his mind set elsewhere. He has become +<i>distrait</i>, that young man, and when he has not whispers +for you he has eyes for someone else.”</p> + +<p>Patty was silent for a moment, then with a sort +of bravado she said: “Oh well, you will see. It +is only a question of time. Meanwhile dream of +your <i>palacio</i> and I will dream, too.”</p> + +<p>“Of what?”</p> + +<p>Patty would not tell, but before she went to sleep +her thoughts wandered back to a box-hedged garden, +the one of which she and Robert Lisle had +talked. Where was he? Not a word of him since +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_177"></span> +he bade them farewell and departed for Santander. +“That chapter is closed,” sighed Patty, as she +turned on her pillow. “I have presented a palace +to Polly, a heart to Perdita, and there is nothing +left for me.”</p> + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + + +<div class="chapter"> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_178"></span><h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_XIII">CHAPTER <abbr title="Thirteen">XIII</abbr></h2> +<h3> +THE LONG WHITE ROAD</h3></div> + + +<p>Doña Martina and Paulette were going to Llanes +with Don Juan to do some shopping, but Patty declined +to accompany them, having spent all her +money on blind beggars she said. The truth was +she had become a little tired of Paulette. It was +all very well when she was one of a number at +the convent, but, as she told her sister, “a daily diet +of Paulette palls on me. I didn’t mean that for a +pun, Tina. It isn’t that I don’t like her, for I do, +but I weary of her little screams and affectations, +her material way of looking at things. She isn’t +exactly heartless, but she is calculating like her +shop-keeping ancestors, and she has small frugalities +which drive me mad. Moreover I am not quite +sure how sincere she is. I can’t talk to her with +half the freedom I do to Perdita, who is so open-hearted +and natural.”</p> + +<p>“Then you are sorry you brought Paulette with +you? I was wondering at the time if it might not +prove a mistake, but you were so sure you wanted +her and I knew there would be but few young companions +here for you.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="page_179"></span> +“I’m not sorry she came, at the same time I shall +not be sorry to see her go. Paulette for breakfast, +dinner and supper during three solid months wears +on one. If Cary Logan hadn’t gone home I’d much +rather have had her, but Paulette was the only one +available and so—. Please take her off my hands +for a day, Tina, and I will freshen up my jaded sensibilities +while you are gone.”</p> + +<p>So it was that Paulette and Doña Martina went +off together while Patty was left to the comfort of +a quiet day alone. She spent her first hour very +idly. It was such a satisfaction to be lazy, not to +hear Paulette’s little heels clicking along the floor, +and to know her solitude would not be broken in +upon by “<i lang="fr">Ma foi</i>, Patty, what are you doing? +Shall we walk? Shall we ride to-day? Shall we +study the Spanish? Are you not going to do somesing?” +“And now I am going to do exactly as I +please, just as the spirit moves me,” she told herself +as she leaned on the railing of the galleria, and +looked up and down the long white road: “When +I get tired of staying here I’ll do the next thing +that occurs to me.” Yet being naturally an energetic +person, she could but plan what she would do. +That morning she would loaf. In the afternoon +she would take Guido and have a drive. Perhaps +she would drive home with Perdita after the French +lesson, and would come around by an old house +she knew where she had seen an ancient knocker +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_180"></span> +on the gate. She would like to have the knocker +because Don Felipe wanted it. They said he always +got what he wanted, but this time she would +have the thing he desired, because Pepe, who lived +in the old house, had promised it to her if to anyone. +She knew of another thing which Don Felipe +had not secured, but about this she kept her own +counsel. Along the long white road a constant +procession passed, wagons of the <i>viajantes</i>, droves +of cattle for the market, a woman with a <i>macona</i> +balanced upon her head, others with tubs coming +from the washing place, a child with a bucket so +heavy as to make it hard for her to walk steadily, +burros with loaded panniers, gipsies, gallegos, blind +musicians, peddlers. Patty watched them all, her +thoughts following them on, or taking a leap to the +rough country road down which she had so often +galloped on her little pony. She had traveled so +far, and was so absorbed in her thoughts that she +was startled when a voice below her spoke softly, +“Señorita,” and looking down she saw Perdita +smiling up at her.</p> + +<p>“I have brought you some <i>brevas</i>,” said the girl.</p> + +<p>“<i>Brevas!</i> How fine. You know how I like +them. I’ll come down,” and she descended the +stairs to receive this gift of early figs. “It was +good of you to bring them, Perdita.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, but señorita, how good you are. Tomás +has told me.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="page_181"></span> +“That is nothing. We must have a long talk, +Perdita. Can you not stay with me to-day? I +am all alone, for they have everyone gone to Llanes, +even Tomás, and I believe I should have been a little +lonely after a while.”</p> + +<p>“I can stay if you wish it, yes, señorita.”</p> + +<p>“Then come in. Bring the <i>brevas</i> upstairs and +we will eat them there. It is fortunate you came +this morning, for now there will be no one to interrupt +our talk. This afternoon we can have the +French early and then go for a ride.” She set the +basket of figs on the table in her own room and settled +Perdita in one chair while she took one +opposite. “Now,” she said in a satisfied tone, +“we shall enjoy ourselves. So Tomás told you +that I had made a discovery. I only guessed it, +Perdita.”</p> + +<p>“Yes, señorita.” Perdita cast down her eyes.</p> + +<p>Patty sat peeling the green skin from a <i>breva</i> +while she watched the girl’s face. “Do you know, +Perdita,” she began, “that at first I thought he +might be flirting—how shall I say that in Spanish?—that +he was making a <i>coqueteria</i> with you—and +I was angry.”</p> + +<p>“You are so good, señorita.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, but I am not, for there was a time when I +tried to make sister think I was flirting with Tomás +myself. She thinks now that we are in earnest. +Perdita were you jealous?” She leaned over and +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_182"></span> +took the girl’s toil-worn fingers in hers. “Were +you <i>zeloso</i>?”</p> + +<p>“Of you, señorita?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, of me.”</p> + +<p>“I am afraid I was, señorita. There were many +days after you came that I did not see Tomás at +all, and I was very unhappy.”</p> + +<p>“Of course you were, poor dear, but he couldn’t +help himself; we all kept him so busy, and I must +admit that I was the one who demanded the most +from him. You see, Perdita, I didn’t know then +about you, and I liked Tomás very much, not in the +way you do, but as a friend, and I like him still, and +shall do all I can for him and you.”</p> + +<p>“<i>Gracias, señorita</i>, you are so very good, but—.” +The lovely face took on an expression of sadness.</p> + +<p>“What is it?”</p> + +<p>“I know at last we must part. I try not to think +of that <i>mañana</i>, for when Tomás is near me he assures +me it will not be so, and I think only of the happiness +I have. But it would be very wrong to marry +below one’s station as he would do. I asked the +<i>padre</i> if one would do right to marry beneath him, +and he said no, though sometimes if there was no +one to offend it might not be out of place. You +see there is someone to offend. Don Juan it is, +and how could I do him a wrong who has been so +good to us, who has restored to my grandmother +her sight? No, señorita, it cannot be, unless Don +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_183"></span> +Juan were to say so. When you came I knew it +would be a proper thing if he married the sister +of his brother’s wife, so that there would be one +happy family. I told him this and said I could +never marry him; that was after I had asked the +<i>padre</i>.”</p> + +<p>“And poor Tomás believed you, I verily think, +for I am certain that he tried for a time to do as +you had suggested, that is to grow very fond of +me.”</p> + +<p>“Yes, he tried,” replied Perdita, with perfect honesty, +“but he came back to me one day and said +he, too, was very unhappy, and that the sight of +me had put to flight all other thoughts. What +could I do? What could I do then? I was so +miserable, I could have died with misery before +that, and when he said he could not love any other, +ah, señorita, it was such happiness.”</p> + +<p>“I think I remember the time,” said Patty slowly. +“Well then, Perdita?”</p> + +<p>“Then he said he would wait; it was all we could +do. I have prayed Our Lady to have pity on us +and perhaps she will, though if it is wrong, as the +<i>padre</i> says, of course she would not. She could +not allow us to do wrong, you see.”</p> + +<p>“I cannot see why it would be wrong,” Patty +declared. “You tell me you come of good family.”</p> + +<p>“My mother did, yes, but of my father what do +I know?”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="page_184"></span> +“True, yet I am convinced it will all be well some +day. You are young, both of you, and can wait. +How old are you, Perdita?”</p> + +<p>“I am twenty, señorita.”</p> + +<p>“Just my age, and goodness knows I haven’t the +slightest idea of marrying anyone. Even supposing +you two could marry now, I am sure you would +appear well. Dressed like a lady you would seem +far more like one than many I could mention.”</p> + +<p>“I resemble my mother they say, señorita. I +do not look at all like my father, and I am told my +grandmother was very proud of my mother’s appearance.”</p> + +<p>“Perdita!” Patty suddenly had an inspiration. +“Wouldn’t you like to see how you would look +dressed like a lady?”</p> + +<p>“Oh, señorita!”</p> + +<p>“It would be great fun.” Patty sprang to her +feet and opened the door of a clothes-press. “You +are only a little taller than I, though I am more +slender. Let me see.” She took down one garment +after another and flung them on the bed. +“There,” she said. “I think those will suit you. +But first I must do your hair.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, but señorita, I cannot allow you to serve +me.”</p> + +<p>“I’m not serving; I am only amusing myself.” +She let down the wavy, rich, brown hair which fell +in thick masses over the girl’s shoulders. Deftly +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_185"></span> +she piled it up, giving it a tuck-in here, a pat there, +then she stood off to view the effect. “That is +fine,” she pronounced. “Now, on with these. I’ll +hook you into them.” She slipped a soft trailing +silk over Perdita’s head, pulled it snugly together, +touched it off with a necklace and a pair of long +gloves, which latter were a little too large for herself, +then after another dive into a box brought +forth a wide-brimmed Paris hat which she set upon +the girl’s head. “Now you’ll do,” she announced. +“You look perfectly stunning. Come into the other +room and see. There is a long mirror there.” She +ran ahead, Perdita following as best she could with +the long skirt to which she was unaccustomed.</p> + +<p>“There,” cried Patty, as they stopped before the +mirror, “look at yourself and say that you are not +as fine a lady as the best.”</p> + +<p>Perdita half ashamed, half pleased, could but +realize that the vision reflected in the glass was a +charming one. The hat with graceful drooping +plumes was becoming as the gown and the whole +effect was beyond what she had ever dared to hope +she could present.</p> + +<p>Their fun was suddenly broken in upon by Anita’s +voice announcing, “The señor Don Felipe, señorita.” +A hot flush mounted to Perdita’s cheek. +There was no way of escape, for Don Felipe was +already upon the threshold. To Patty, however, +the occasion presented only a further incident in +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_186"></span> +the little comedy. With dancing eyes she led the +shrinking Perdita forward. “<i>Buenas dias, señor</i>,” +she said, “allow me to present you to my friend the +señorita Gonzalez.”</p> + +<p>Don Felipe made one step forward, “<i>Dios mio!</i>” +he exclaimed as he took in the charming figure from +head to foot, then, bowing low, he said, “at your +feet, ladies.” But he did not tarry long, to Patty’s +relief. He had but stopped to leave a book for Don +Juan, he explained. He must go on. Yet all the +time he remained, Patty caught him casting stealthy +glances at Perdita who, with eyes downcast, sat +without saying a word.</p> + +<p>When the sound of horses’ hoofs was heard on +the stones below, Patty looked Perdita up and down +smiling the while. “I believe you have made a conquest, +<i>cara mia</i>,” she said. “My faith, how fast +he is galloping off. I should think he would go +slowly and would look back often. How should +you like to live in a <i>palacio</i>, Perdita, and eat from +silver dishes?”</p> + +<p>“Oh, señorita!” Perdita looked troubled.</p> + +<p>“It would be fine if he were to select you after +all. He would dress you up so grandly, and I +should see you driving around in that great coach.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, but señorita, Tomás—”</p> + +<div class="figcenter"> + <a id="i_186"></a> + <br> + <img src="images/i_186.jpg" + alt="At your feet"> + <p class="caption">“‘AT YOUR FEET, LADIES.’”</p> +</div><!--end figcenter--> + +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_187"></span> + +<p>“To be sure, I am forgetting Tomás. Well he +is an old man, is Don Felipe, and perhaps he would +not live long and then you would be a rich widow +who could marry whom you pleased.”</p> + +<p>Perdita looked shocked. Her simple mind could +not grasp the wild imaginings of the fly-away Patty. +“<i>Ave Maria</i>,” she said, crossing herself, “so proud +a man as Don Felipe would never think of a peasant +like me. There is none so proud as Don Felipe, +and they say it is because of his pride that he has +never married, that nothing but a <i>marquesa</i> or a +<i>condessa</i> at least would satisfy him.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, when men become as old as he, youth and +beauty are far greater attractions than position and +wealth or family,” said Patty sagely. “That might +all have been true when he was young. He can +buy all the antiques he wants, but it isn’t every day +so lovely a creature comes his way.”</p> + +<p>“You mock me, señorita,” said Perdita, a little +offended.</p> + +<p>“Indeed I do not, my dear; it is quite true. I +could see how much he was struck by your appearance. +Why, he scarcely took his eyes off you, and +had none for me. Have you ever spoken to him +before?”</p> + +<p>“No, señorita. Everyone knows Don Felipe, of +course. So great a man as he is always pointed +out, but ah, it is fine feathers make fine birds, and +I am sure he did not recognize me in the peasant girl +he has passed many times on the road and to whom +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_188"></span> +he has never given a glance. It is known that he +is so proud he will scarce turn his head when he is +riding along.”</p> + +<p>“Well he certainly should know you again, if +looking can familiarize one with a face, and unless +I am mistaken, he will be asking me questions about +my beautiful friend, the señorita Gonzalez. No, +don’t take off the gown; I want you to wear it to +<i>almuerzo</i> with me. I will dress up, too, and we +will pretend that you are the señora Doña Perdita +Velasco de Gonzalez, while I am—let me see—nothing +short of a <i>condessa</i> could breakfast with +anyone so magnificent as you will be.”</p> + +<p>By this time Perdita had begun to see through +Patty’s make-believes, and entered into the spirit +of the thing, and it must be confessed, sometimes +aping Patty’s airs and graces. At breakfast, however, +she was ill at ease, though taking to heart +the object lessons Patty’s table manners offered. +One must not eat with a knife, she discovered, nor +wipe her mouth upon the back of her hand, and one +must eat mincingly, taking small pieces of bread +instead of biting off large mouthfuls. There was +much to learn, Perdita perceived humbly, but she +was grateful for the opportunity of learning, +whether the lesson was intended or not.</p> + +<p>“I wish Tomás could see you,” Patty remarked, +as Perdita at last declared she must again assume +her own dress. “No, I don’t either, for he would +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_189"></span> +be crazier than ever and would spoil all your +chances of becoming Don Felipe’s bride.”</p> + +<p>“You always make the joke, señorita, yet I know +now it is but a joke which you mean, for you have +promised to be the friend of Tomás and me.”</p> + +<p>“But I would be your friend just the same, for +who knows how long you may have to wait? You +might have to wait less time to be a widow.”</p> + +<p>“Señorita!”</p> + +<p>“Never mind, Perdita. I suppose I do shock you. +It is true I am only joking. I will not play that +way any more, for I really do not mean it. My +imagination flies away with me sometimes. I +mean to be perfectly loyal to you and Tomás in +spite of Don Felipe or anyone else, so don’t mind +my nonsense. If you feel uncomfortable we will +take off these fine feathers, as you call them, I have +no doubt you would rather wear what you are accustomed +to. Then we will have the French lesson.”</p> + +<p>The French lesson over, Perdita departed leaving +Patty in the little summer-house. Now and then +an iris-necked pigeon would patter in, look around +inquiringly and patter out again, or a bird would +twitter in the branches over the door. “I am having +a lovely, peaceful time,” sighed Patty. “When +Polly goes I suppose there will be plenty of such +hours, and I shall get deadly lonely. There will +always be Perdita though, when Tina hasn’t time +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_190"></span> +to spare me. Perdita has much charm, and I do +not think it would be hard to fit her to be my sister’s +sister-in-law. Ah, here comes Tomás, the first to +arrive. I shall have much to tell him.”</p> + +<p>An hour later when the rest of the party returned, +Patty and Tomás were still sitting in the summer-house, +and there Doña Martina found them, but +she did not frown, she only said, “Have you had a +good day, Patty?”</p> + +<p>“A lovely day,” was the answer. “Don Felipe +was here and you know that made sunshine for all +the hours.”</p> + +<p>“Absurd child,” said her sister, giving her a soft +tap and looking at Tomás as if to say, we understand.</p> + +<p>That night as Patty was ready for sleep her +sister came in; Paulette in the next room was already +bound in slumbers, being tired out with the +day’s shopping. “Patty,” said her sister, sitting +down on the bed by her side, “we have had a long +talk, Juan and I, about you and Tomás, and dear, +we do not want you to think we are so unsympathetic +as will make you withhold your confidence. +We will do all we can. Of course ever since that +day in the summer-house when I saw him kiss +you—”</p> + +<p>“Only my hand, Tina; that was nothing.” +Patty lifted herself from the pillows in protest.</p> + +<p>“Oh well, never mind, it was enough to show +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_191"></span> +what you both felt, and Juan says we can give up +this house to you if you would rather live here, +though he thinks Tomás should do more, that he +should not settle down to this hum-drum existence, +this village life. He is going to see about sending +him to South America or Mexico where he will +have opportunities. If he succeeds, why, then—But, +oh my dear—” she leaned over and took Patty +in her arms, “it will be hard to give you up, to +send you off there, and I am selfish enough to wish +for us all to stay right here and live together. Yet +if it will be for your happiness, I shall be satisfied +either way.”</p> + +<p>Then Patty burst into tears and wept on her +sister’s shoulder.</p> + +<p>“I’m a horrid girl,” she wailed. “You don’t +know how horrid. Please don’t talk about anything +now. I want only you.” And she clung to +her sister till the tears ceased, and with gentle +good-nights they parted.</p> + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + + +<div class="chapter"> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_192"></span> +<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_XIV">CHAPTER <abbr title="Fourteen">XIV</abbr></h2> + +<h3>THE SILVER MERCHANT</h3></div> + + +<p>Don Juan, like his neighbor Don Felipe, was fond +of collecting antiques, a fact which had become +known to the silver merchants who, traveling +through the country, collected old jewelry and silver +for which they gave the peasants in exchange +less valuable but more modern ornaments. In most +cases the silver was melted up to be turned into +articles more in the mode, but many a pair of long +earrings, many a silver chain or reliquary found +its way into Don Juan’s possession. For these +things there was always a sharp bargaining which +the ladies of the house enjoyed hugely, and they +never failed to appear in Don Juan’s study when +the Gallegos, as the men usually were, were +shown up.</p> + +<p>The day after the expedition to Llanes one of +these silver merchants arrived. At sight of the +three ladies he began to display the contents of his +pack, the gewgaws for which he found a ready sale +among the peasants. “None of those,” said Don +Juan with a contemptuous wave of his hand. “The +old pieces. Have you anything good at all?”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="page_193"></span> +The man with alacrity produced a medal which +was passed around, Don Juan making such depreciating +remarks as, “Worth nothing at all. Badly +worn. You see there is a piece chipped out.” At +last he handed it back.</p> + +<p>“But señor, it is very old,” the man spread out +his hands.</p> + +<p>“I doubt it.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, but señor, that it is worn but shows the +age. It is surely worth something.”</p> + +<p>“A <i>peseta</i>, no more. You see for yourself the +nick in it.”</p> + +<p>“Very well, if you buy something else I will let +you have it.”</p> + +<p>“Lay it aside then; we will see.”</p> + +<p>A pair of earrings were next produced; they +were of a fine filigree pattern which is now rare.</p> + +<p>“Beautiful,” whispered Patty.</p> + +<p>Her sister threw her a warning glance.</p> + +<p>Don Juan turned the earrings over with a contemptuous +“Humph!” He had heard the whisper. +“I don’t suppose anyone cares for these, but perhaps +the ladies would like to look at them as a +matter of curiosity,” and he handed them over to +Patty to examine while the Gallego rummaged his +odds and ends for an old cross which he presently +brought out. Meanwhile Patty had set her heart +on the earrings to give to Perdita, remembering +that she had expressed a wish for such a pair to +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_194"></span> +wear with her Asturian dress, so she scribbled on +a piece of paper, “If these are not too much I would +like to buy them.” This she handed back with the +ornaments.</p> + +<p>Don Juan nodded understandingly and began to +examine the earrings with an indifferent expression. +“They have been mended,” he remarked +after a moment. “They are not in good condition +and could not be worn as they are.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, but señor,” came the protest, “they are +much more beautiful than a pair I sold to Don +Felipe the last time I came through, and for which +he paid me more than I am asking for these.”</p> + +<p>“That may be, but probably the others were in +better condition. However, I will give you,” he +named a sum which the man finally accepted after +some parley, and Patty became the possessor of the +prize. The bartering went on for an hour or more +and when the Gallego at last packed up his load +Don Juan had added several valuable articles to +his collection. They had cost the silver merchant +next to nothing and he had made a profit in the +transaction.</p> + +<p>When the man went below, at Doña Martina’s +request Patty ordered the maids to give him a glass +of wine before he left. Don Juan drew a long sigh +as the merchant disappeared. He enjoyed these +bouts but they kept him so keyed up that he was +tired after they were over.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="page_195"></span> +“It is as good as a play,” said Patty when she +returned to the room. “I could never in the world +be so keen as Juan is. Won’t Perdita look fine in +these at the next <i>fiesta</i>? She has long wanted such +a pair.”</p> + +<p>“Perdita? Did you get them for her?” asked +Doña Martina.</p> + +<p>“Yes, she is continually bringing me flowers and +fruit, and I want to give her something in return.”</p> + +<p>“You give her French lessons.”</p> + +<p>“And she gives me Spanish. We are quits there. +I do like Perdita. She was with me for a long +time yesterday.”</p> + +<p>“So Manuela told me. I don’t know that it was +wise, Patty, for you to invite her to sit at table +like an equal.”</p> + +<p>“She is an equal. I wish I were half as good +and beautiful. I dressed her up in some of my +clothes and I wish you could have seen what a +dream of beauty she was.”</p> + +<p>“What a child you are, Patty. I wonder what +the maids thought. I am afraid it will put notions +into their heads. They will be expecting the same +treatment next.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, but imagine comparing Manuela to Perdita. +One is a dray horse, the other a racer.”</p> + +<p>Doña Martina smiled. “There spoke your Kentucky +influences. Of course we all know Perdita +is a very superior girl and a very pretty one, but +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_196"></span> +you must not treat her so that she will become +discontented with her station. She is a peasant, a +worker in the fields, and must always be so. This +is not democratic America, Patty.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, but Perdita does come of good family some +generations back; she has told me so. Have you +ever noticed what pretty hands and feet she has? +Her hands are hard and rough, but so well-shaped +and not much larger than mine. Oh, no, Perdita +is not made of common clay. To tell you the +truth,” she looked after Paulette who was leaving +the room. “I’ve no doubt but she comes of much +better stock than Polly, yet because Polly has money +and dresses well, we accept her.”</p> + +<p>“That may all be true, but the fact remains that +you must not unsettle Perdita and make her unhappy. +There is no way to alter her lot and why +try to breed discontent?”</p> + +<p>“Maybe that is the proper way to look at it, but +suppose Perdita did have money, suppose in some +way she inherited it, must she always be kept a +peasant?”</p> + +<p>“Perhaps not. She might marry someone of +these Americanos, and return to America with him +where she would probably rise to a different walk +of life. There have even been nobles who have married +peasants, but as our old mammy used to say, +‘dey has money but dey hasn’t anything else,’ and +everyone knows it. So, pray be careful, Patty. I +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_197"></span> +haven’t the least objection to Perdita’s coming here +every day, but don’t dress her up and ask her to +breakfast with you. I see no harm in the earrings, +for they are a part of the dress she wears +to <i>fiestas</i> and are perfectly proper.”</p> + +<p>Patty bore the earrings away and laid them on +a table in her room. She would give them to Perdita +when she next came. She was not a very +happy Patty this day. Her sister’s sweetness of +the night before had quite disarmed her and she +had avoided Tomás all morning. What seemed at +first an innocent deception was assuming the proportions +of an intrigue. In the romantic consideration +of the love affair she had lost sight of her +sister’s interest in herself and of what was due to +a guardian care. “Dear me,” she sighed, “it was +much easier getting along at the convent. There +were no complications there. We did as we were +told and that was the end of it. I suppose I had +no business meddling and I am now receiving the +fate of all busybodies. Yet, how was I to know? +and—oh dear, I am half inclined to run away from +it all and go back to the sisters. There are never +any love affairs there to tie one up into hard knots, +but here I have put myself in a hole, and as the +Spaniards say, <i>no hay remedia</i>.”</p> + +<p>She left the garden where she had been walking +and went up in to the great room which was at +once <i>sala</i> and living-room. Here the family +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_198"></span> +gathered for all sorts of tasks. If one wished to +sew or read, the light was good by the far windows +from which one could watch the cloud shadows +creep over the mountains, and could see the red-tiled +roofs of little white houses in the valley. If +one wanted to look out on the <i>carretera</i> the front +windows were best for they afforded not only a +view of the road, but of the village. The south +side overlooked the garden and the north was +turned toward the chapel. At the north window +Patty saw Tomás standing, a huge apron covering +him from head to heels and on a large table before +him several wooden figures of saints. Just now +Tomás was engaged in painting a blue robe on a +Madonna. He had already given her yellow hair +and a red mantle so that she was a most brilliant +figure. The young man stood off to observe the +effect of his work as Patty came forward. “What +<i>are</i> you doing, Tomás?” asked she.</p> + +<p>“Giving these saints some new clothing. You +see how faded and battered they are.” He pointed +with his brush to the dingy group collected on one +end of the table.</p> + +<p>“But where did they come from? Not from our +little chapel? I should hate to see the dingy little +saints in there done up in this florid style.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, no, Juan would never permit that. These +came from the mountains. You remember I told +you I had promised Father Ignacio to make them +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_199"></span> +fresh and bright, and now he is anxious that they +should be ready for the <i>fiesta</i> which occurs very +soon. He sent them down yesterday.”</p> + +<p>“That is Perdita’s <i>cura</i>, is it not?”</p> + +<p>“Yes.”</p> + +<p>“And who are these?” Patty went over and +touched one of the queer figures.</p> + +<p>“That is San Pablo, the next is San Pedro and +the third San Jose.”</p> + +<p>“If you make them all as gloriously brilliant as +this Madonna they certainly will brighten up the +<i>fiesta</i>.”</p> + +<p>“The peasants like them that way. They will +be delighted and will think me a great artist, but +for myself I prefer the old dim colors.”</p> + +<p>“And I.” She stood watching the process of +restoring the Madonna’s faded raiment until Doña +Martina came in with a letter in her hand. “Maybe +you would like to see this, Patty,” she said. “It +is from Robert Lisle. I was wondering why we +hadn’t heard from him. It is only a polite little +note, but explains his failure to write.”</p> + +<p>Patty took the letter mechanically. It was, as +her sister had said, only a polite little note saying +that he had been to an isolated mining district from +which he had found it difficult to send anything +by post. He had returned to Santander and hoped +to see them all again before he left the country. +Patty refolded the letter and handed it back without +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_200"></span> +comment. “I wonder,” she said to herself, +“if he found a chance to send a letter to Miss +Moffatt. I haven’t a doubt but that was a different +matter.” She went over to the front window +which looked down on the <i>patio</i>. Her sister seated +herself by her work table and took up some sewing. +“There were some letters for Paulette, too,” she +remarked.</p> + +<p>“And none for me?” inquired Patty.</p> + +<p>“None. Juan’s budget was the largest.”</p> + +<p>“Where is Polly?”</p> + +<p>“I fancy she is attending to her correspondence. +She seemed quite excited over it.”</p> + +<p>Patty looked out upon the <i>carretera</i>. The +pigeons had taken shelter under the eaves; the +stones of the <i>patio</i> were quite wet. “It is raining,” +she remarked. “I see the people going along on +their <i>madreños</i>. What funny things they are. +Would one say they had two heels when one is +under the ball of the foot? Wooden shoes with +high heels wouldn’t describe them exactly. They +make a noise like sabots, but they are better for +rainy weather for they keep the feet more out of +the wet. Heigho! It is rather dismal when it +rains, isn’t it?”</p> + +<p>“I quite enjoy a rainy day once in a while,” responded +Doña Martina. “It gives one such a good +chance to do up odds and ends. Where are you +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_201"></span> +going?” for Patty crossed the room and opened a +door at the other end.</p> + +<p>“I am going to the chapel to compare our saints +with those Tomás is renovating. I want to see if +I can discover their identity by a similarity of expression.”</p> + +<p>She passed out and along the narrow covered way +which led to the chapel, then down a flight of steps +into the silent, chill little place. It was rarely used +now except in the event of a funeral, or when one +of the maids stole in to drop on her knees before +the pallid Virgin who stood in her tarnished shrine, +faintly smiling into the empty somber spaces before +her. Patty stood for a moment, then walked +slowly around looking at the figures each side the +altar. That must be San Roque; he could be recognized +by the little dog with him; and that was +St. Anthony next. On the other side she identified +St. Joseph and St. John. Then she went back +into the chapel and sat down. How many dead +and gone Estradas had worshiped here, and how +curious it seemed that foreigners should now make +their home under the roof of those who once held +sway. She remembered the blackened portraits in +the house, men with pointed beards and ruffs, +women with huge petticoats and strange coiffures. +And to think that Spain was in its glory when +America was yet a wilderness, when the Kentucky +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_202"></span> +forests were full of savages. Now,—oh the smiling +garden, the little mother in the white shawl, +the bees among the blossoms! There was a sound +in the house of a door closing. On the roof the +rain pattered. Afar off a bell was ringing. The +sounds saddened her. She sank on her knees, resting +her head on her clasped hands. For a long +time she knelt there, not praying, but filled with an +uncertain longing for which there seemed no cure. +Something had made her unhappy. It was not +altogether the affair of Tomás and Perdita. What +was it? “I suppose I am homesick and want my +mother,” she said, with a sad little smile as she +arose. “I am afraid Perdita will not come to-day,” +she told herself as she passed along the corridor +and back into the room where Tomás was still +painting. The Virgin, now gorgeously arrayed, +her blue robe bedecked with golden stars, was set +aside and St. Paul was undergoing a cleansing +process.</p> + +<p>Patty paused for a moment. “I found St. Anthony, +San Roque, San Jose, and San Juan,” she +said, “but I must say that San Jose must have had +a very changeable countenance; he doesn’t look a +bit like this one.”</p> + +<p>“Patty,” her sister called, “I’ve something for +you. Our shopping from Llanes has just arrived. +See how you like this,” and she flung a lace mantilla +over the girl’s head.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="page_203"></span> +“Just what I wanted,” declared Patty. “You +are a dear thing to get it for me. Thank you so +much. I did want a real Spanish one, and this is +a beauty. I must go show it to Polly.”</p> + +<p>Paulette had just finished her letters and was +trying on a new shawl she had bought. “Show me +how to wear it,” she said as Patty came in; “the +way we did at the <i>fiesta</i>.”</p> + +<p>Patty draped it around the little figure. “I, too, +have something Spanish,” she said, displaying her +mantilla.</p> + +<p>“Ah, I have seen that before,” Paulette told her. +“I have some news for you, somesing which will +surprise you.”</p> + +<p>“Wait till I have laid this away,” said Patty, +darting from the room. She ran into her own +chamber, laid the mantilla on the table and returned. +“I have such a habit of leaving my things +in here,” she explained, “that I wanted to be sure +this time I would not be disturbing your orderliness +by my forgetfulness. Did you have good letters, +Polly? Was there anything from the sisters?”</p> + +<p>“No, but from my guardian a most important +letter. What will you say, Patty, when I tell you +he wishes to make for me an excellent marriage to +the son of a friend of his?”</p> + +<p>“Oh! But what about Don Felipe?” Patty asked +after a moment’s silence.</p> + +<p>“I have come to the conclusion that he is not to +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_204"></span> +be depended upon. You will recall that he has +not been here for days.”</p> + +<p>“He was here yesterday.”</p> + +<p>“You say it was but to make a short call, to +bring somesing to Don Juan.”</p> + +<p>“He might have stayed longer if you had been +here.”</p> + +<p>Paulette gave a little shrug of her shoulders. +“Might have stayed. I want no might haves. +Why waste one’s time on an uncertain old man, a +foreigner at that, when here is a young man +ready?”</p> + +<p>“But have you seen him? Can you tell whether +you would like him?”</p> + +<p>“My uncle describes him. I do not think I shall +be disappointed. But, my dear, you see the importance +of my appearing soon, so I must leave +you to go to Poitiers at once.”</p> + +<p>“I like Poitiers,” said Patty reminiscently. “The +people there look good and honest, so I hope your +<i>parti</i> will be as desirable as he ought. We shall be +sorry to part from you. When must you go?”</p> + +<p>“This week. My uncle meets me at Bordeaux, +from thence we go to Poitiers where he lives.”</p> + +<p>This affair of Paulette’s was such a new matter +of interest, that the two sat together discussing it +till Perdita was announced.</p> + +<p>“Take her to my room, Anita,” Patty ordered. +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_205"></span> +“I will be there directly. It is too wet to sit out in +the summer-house, tell Perdita.”</p> + +<p>Anita obeyed and Patty found Perdita standing +by the window when she went in. Paulette’s +affairs were more absorbing than the French lesson +that day, and it must be confessed it was cut short. +The earrings, too, were forgotten and when Patty +did remember them they were not to be found. +She called the maid, “Anita, did you see anything +of a pair of earrings when you made up my room?” +she asked.</p> + +<p>“No, señorita.”</p> + +<p>“I laid them just here,” she indicated a corner +of the table. “We must find them.” A search was +made, but no earrings were discovered, to Anita’s +distress.</p> + +<p>“Who else has been in the room?” inquired Patty.</p> + +<p>“Only Perdita, señorita.”</p> + +<p>“Perdita? Oh, yes, I remember. Very well, +we shall see. Perhaps I am mistaken, Anita, and +have put them somewhere else, after all.” But all +searching was of no avail and Patty was sorely +troubled. To suspect Perdita was impossible; to +suspect Anita was almost as bad. But in the flurry +of Paulette’s departure the incident was forgotten +and it was days before the question came up again.</p> + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + + +<div class="chapter"> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_206"></span> +<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_XV">CHAPTER <abbr title="Fifteen">XV</abbr></h2> +<h3>THE LONELY HILL</h3></div> + + +<p>With Paulette gone, Don Felipe only a casual +caller, and Tomás engrossed in his own love affair, +Patty felt lonelier than she had believed she could. +Doña Martina was often busy and just now a little +anxious about her husband who had rather overstepped +the mark in working too constantly on the +book he was preparing for print, therefore Patty +was left a great deal to herself. For the past two +or three days she had seen nothing of Perdita. +Tomás was absent, as well, having gone to Oviedo +on a business trip for his brother, and the girl resorted +to long rides in the little donkey-cart as her +best means of amusement.</p> + +<p>One afternoon she started forth, her mind set +upon a certain point from which there was a fine +view of sea and mountains. That morning had +brought a letter from Paulette, a complacent sort +of epistle which had somehow irritated Patty. +Mlle. Delambre had met Mons. Adolph Busson. +They were mutually pleased. The betrothal had +taken place and the marriage would be a little later. +She hoped her dear friend, Patty, would be present +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_207"></span> +at the wedding, unless superior attractions detained +her in Spain. She wished so good an arrangement +as hers might be made for her friend, +yet it was only in France that these matters could +be properly managed. She hoped American methods +would not lead to her Patty’s remaining an +old maid; that would be so unfortunate. How was +the sly Tomás? and what of that other one, the +Englishman, who had seemed so attentive for the +moment? As for the old don, he was far too antiquated +even for Patty.</p> + +<p>“I’d like to know what the ‘even for Patty’ +means,” meditated the girl, her thoughts on the +letter as she took her place in the little cart. She +remembered the day when Paulette had announced +this possible arrangement of affairs and the train +of thought carried her to the earrings which she +had not remembered. Where had they gone? She +could accuse Perdita, but perhaps she had seen them +that day and could tell her, if they were really where +Patty believed she had put them. Perhaps, after +all, it would be better to hunt up Perdita and see if +anything were wrong with her since she had not +been to the house for several days. She might be +ill, or her grandmother.</p> + +<p>Guido’s head was therefore turned in the direction +of the little farm, and before the low white +house Patty halted. There was no sign of life except +from the chickens picking around, and to the +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_208"></span> +girl’s knock there was no reply. There was then +nothing to do but to turn the cart around again and +go in the direction she had first decided upon. This +led toward the sea, though not along the road she +generally used, but rather one further from the village +with the mountains on the left. It was a tortuous +way and a rough one. So steep at last did it +become that Patty decided to leave the cart and try +the rest of the ascent on foot. “If it were not for +the cart, Guido,” she said, “I would let you go, too, +for you can climb these hills and pick your way better +than I. You are a good little <i>burro</i>, Guido, and +I have not been disappointed in you. After all, you +are much less disappointing than some human beings +who profess a great deal and then—I wonder +if he thought that by the gift of you he was simply +making a graceful return for hospitality—not that +you can be called graceful, Guido; far from it—At +all events I’d like to know if it were that, or if he +did it merely because he felt sorry for you, or +whether it were another reason. Oh, me, there is +no use wondering. This is a very lonely hill and I +don’t know why I came to it, except that I am rather +hugging my loneliness these days. I suppose Juan +and Tina would be horrified to know I came here by +myself, and I must confess, it was rather a venturesome +thing to do. Guido, I will tie you so you can +get at the grass and things, for now that I have +come this far I may as well go on.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="page_209"></span> +She left the little gray beast safely tethered and +started off up the steep path. It was seldom used +and at times almost lost itself in thickets of brakes +and briars. There was a low stone wall to climb +then at last the height was reached, and Patty, +panting a little, looked around her. A blue crescent +of sea lay in front of her; behind her the circle of +the horizon was completed by the mountains. +“What a view!” the girl exclaimed. “It was worth +the climb.” Her eye roved over distant objects, +clusters of houses forming small pueblos, half a +dozen groups or more, nearer houses isolated from +the rest, and nearer still the masses of grass and +brambles with here and there a blossom dotting the +green.</p> + +<p>Suddenly her eye lighted on a figure lying face +down in the high grass, a girl in peasant dress. +Was she asleep? and what was she doing here so +far from house or road? Perhaps she was ill or +hurt. Moving nearer Patty stopped as she noticed +a slight movement of the figure. The crackling of +the bushes as Patty made her way through caused +the girl to raise her head, showing a face tear-stained +and wet-eyed.</p> + +<p>“Perdita!” cried Patty. “It is you? What is +the matter?”</p> + +<p>“Oh, señorita,” Perdita sat up, “I have a sad +heart.”</p> + +<p>“And why?” Patty made a place by Perdita’s +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_210"></span> +side. “Tell me all about it. You are not grieving +because Tomás has gone away, are you? He will +be back in a few days. Did you think he was going +to stay?”</p> + +<p>“Oh, no, señorita, it is not that. It is I who am +going away to stay.”</p> + +<p>“You? Why, where are you going?”</p> + +<p>“Into a convent, señorita.”</p> + +<p>“Not to stay?” Patty was aghast. It seemed a +tragedy to her to shut up this young creature behind +convent walls. “You are not going to become +a nun?”</p> + +<p>“No, señorita, but I am to be gone two years and +it seems forever.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, but it will soon pass. I was two years in a +convent and as I look back it does not seem long. +But, Perdita, why are you going? Is it your grandmother +who sends you?”</p> + +<p>“It was my grandmother who told me I was to +go. I am to go to get an education, to become more +of a lady.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, now that is not to be wept over. Why, the +other day you were longing for such advantages.”</p> + +<p>Perdita made no answer except to draw a long +sigh.</p> + +<p>“Is it because of Tomás? Does your grandmother +know?” Patty still plied her with questions.</p> + +<p>“No, I do not think it is that. If my grandmother +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_211"></span> +knows she has not said so. She said, ‘some +one wishes you to go to a convent for two years; at +the end of that time we shall see what we shall see.’”</p> + +<p>“Oh, Perdita, it must be just as we hoped, and +your father is coming back after having made a +fortune. Are you not glad? Shall you not be +happy to see him?”</p> + +<p>“Maybe, though you know, señorita, he is but a +stranger to me, and what if he should want to separate +me from Tomás, or what if while I am away, +some other should take his fancy and I should return +to find no Tomás for me? It would break my +heart, señorita. I should die.”</p> + +<p>“That is showing very little faith in Tomás. I +do not believe he is the inconstant sort for there +was Paulette and here was—” she stopped short.</p> + +<p>“Yourself. Yes. I know, and if he did not love +anyone so dear and lovely as you I should have more +faith, but I cannot help my fears. Can anyone who +loves as I do? If you had a lover, señorita, would +you not fear to leave him for two years, to know +that in all that time you could not write to him nor +hear from him?”</p> + +<p>“But can you not see him?”</p> + +<p>“No, my grandmother says I am not to leave the +convent. She cannot even come to see me herself, +and that is a great sacrifice for her to make, she +says.”</p> + +<p>“But what will she do without you?”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="page_212"></span> +“Someone is to come to take charge of the farm +and to look after my grandmother. I do not like +that, either, señorita. I do not like to think of +others attending to my animals, to count my sheep, +my chickens. I do not want to go away from my +own <i>pueblo</i>. I want to be as free as I am to-day.” +She stretched her arms wide and raised her face to +the skies. “That is why I came here,” she went on, +“because it is so large and free up here and one can +see the whole world.”</p> + +<p>“Yes, I understand that feeling,” murmured +Patty.</p> + +<p>“Then, too, there is another thing,” Perdita continued. +“Tomás was telling me that his brother +has spoken of sending him to America. What if he +goes and never comes back?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, I know there has been some talk of it,” said +Patty, thoughtfully. She remembered that it was +to further Tomás’s success and enable him to marry +that his brother had proposed the going to America. +Alas, she was the cause of much trouble. “How +soon do you go to the convent, Perdita?” she asked +presently.</p> + +<p>“Next month, señorita. I am to go to Llanes +first and there I am to lay aside my peasant dress +and be clothed as others are at the convent school.”</p> + +<p>“And when you come away I have no doubt you +will have pretty frocks like that you put on the other +day and you will be very fine, Perdita, so that my +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_213"></span> +sister and brother can have no objection to your becoming +one of the family. It will really do much +to make the future clear for you and Tomás.”</p> + +<p>Perdita shook her head sadly. The two years +seemed a lifetime in her young eyes and this parting +from her lover the end of all things.</p> + +<p>“I shall miss you,” said Patty, after a moment. +“Everyone is leaving, it seems, and I shall be very +lonely. I had a little present for you, Perdita, but +it has been lost.” Then she told of what had happened, +Perdita assuring her that she had not noticed +the earrings upon the table.</p> + +<p>“Oh, señorita, I will pray San Antonio for you,” +she said, “and if you would take a figure of the saint +and hang it down the well I am sure he would send +back the earrings.”</p> + +<p>Patty laughed outright, starting up some birds +from the underbrush.</p> + +<p>Perdita crossed herself. “Oh, but señorita, it is +so, I have known it to happen.”</p> + +<p>“Then I will get St. Anthony from the chapel and +try it,” said Patty, the amusement still in her eyes. +“Come, Perdita, don’t be so downcast. Why, I +think your prospects are fine. So long as I am here +I will keep a sharp eye on Tomás and if I see him +casting sheep’s eyes—how do you call it?—<i>mirada +al soslayo</i>, is that it? Oh, yes; very well, I will go +at him with a vengeance. I don’t know how to say +that exactly—<i>con venganza</i>, you understand?”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="page_214"></span> +Perdita did and smiled faintly. It was something +to leave behind her such a champion of her +rights.</p> + +<p>“Now,” said Patty, getting up. “I will take you +as far as your turning off. Don’t be unhappy, Perdita. +I will attend to St. Anthony and if there is +any other one I can tackle who will make Master +Tomás keep to his colors, I’ll attend to him, too.” +She said this last in English, but the name of Tomás +sounded encouraging and Perdita felt more comfortable.</p> + +<p>“Was it because of all this you have been staying +away?” Patty inquired, when they had started +Guido on his homeward way.</p> + +<p>“Yes, señorita. I was so troubled that I did not +want anyone to see, and I knew I could not remember +my lesson or think of anything as I should.”</p> + +<p>“But you must not give up coming now that the +time is so short, for even if we have no French we +can converse in Spanish. I have learned much +Spanish, have I not?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, señorita; it is wonderful how in three +months you have learned to speak so well.”</p> + +<p>“I have worked very hard and have taken advantage +of speaking whenever I could. One learns +very fast in doing that. Is it three months?”</p> + +<p>“Very nearly, señorita. It was at the feast of +San Juan you saw me first and soon it will be the +feast of San Matea, so that I know.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="page_215"></span> +They passed out of the lonely by-road to the <i>carretera</i>, +and jogged along to where Perdita must take +the path home. Just as they reached this point Don +Felipe came riding by in the opposite direction. He +stopped a moment, doffed his hat, gave the two girls +a sharp scrutiny and rode on. A little later he +overtook Patty. She was alone and was driving +Guido leisurely toward home. Don Felipe slackened +his pace. “Good evening, señorita,” he said, +“so your companion has left you.”</p> + +<p>“Yes, señor, she has gone to her home. She is a +beautiful girl, is she not?”</p> + +<p>“Very beautiful.”</p> + +<p>“Did you recognize her that day when I presented +her as the Señorita Gonzalez?”</p> + +<p>“Not at once, for I do not notice peasants as a +rule, then I recollected having seen her, or someone +like her.”</p> + +<p>“I don’t think Perdita should exactly be classed +among the peasants.”</p> + +<p>“Why so?”</p> + +<p>“She is so gentle and good, so like a lady and with +a very bright mind.”</p> + +<p>“So I have been told.”</p> + +<p>“She would grace any position in life with the +proper education. She is very quick to learn.”</p> + +<p>“Do you say so? Rather surprising in one of her +class, isn’t it?”</p> + +<p>“Perhaps, but you know she comes of good stock, +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_216"></span> +of an old family which has deteriorated. I have +been giving her French lessons and I have had an +opportunity to observe her quickness. It seems she +is to have a chance now, for she is going into a convent +school. Her father, I believe, is sending her.”</p> + +<p>“Her father? So she has one.”</p> + +<p>“Yes, it seems she has, and she thinks he is in +America and will return after a while.”</p> + +<p>“Ah, she is fortunate in having someone who is +not a mere tiller of the soil. So you think she will +do him credit?”</p> + +<p>“She would do anyone credit. I am much interested +in her, and hope I may always keep her as a +friend.”</p> + +<p>“She certainly is most beautiful,” said the old don, +musingly. “Here is your gate, señorita. I will +come in, if you will permit. I should like a word +with your good sister.”</p> + +<p>He entered the house as Patty, driving around to +the side, saw Guido was handed over to the men at +the stables. Don Felipe was in earnest conversation +with her sister when she returned. “Come over, +Patty,” Doña Martina invited her, “and give us +your opinion on a most important subject.”</p> + +<p>“Yes, señorita, I beg of you.” Don Felipe arose +and handed her a chair. “There is no one whose +opinion is of more importance to me. I am thinking +of making a few alterations and repairs to my +old house which you have honored with your presence. +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_217"></span> +I am also thinking of refurnishing and decorating +some of the rooms. This will come later, +for I shall make haste slowly, yet I should like +your ideas on the subject. Which rooms, in your +estimation, would a lady prefer for her apartments?”</p> + +<p>“Oh, I should think those looking over toward the +garden and the mountains.”</p> + +<p>Don Felipe nodded. “And not those on the +front?”</p> + +<p>“No, one gets tired of droves of oxen and cow-carts +passing on the <i>carretera</i>, whereas the mountains +are ever changing and the birds come and go +among the flowers in the garden so that one has always +something pleasant to look at.”</p> + +<p>“Then those rooms without question.”</p> + +<p>“Unless the lady cares for none of those things.”</p> + +<p>“I think her taste would be much like yours. +Later on I shall ask your valuable suggestions in the +matter of furnishing. I have a lot of old stuff, +but—”</p> + +<p>“Oh, do use all you can of it, for it is so much better +suited to that fine old place than any modern +things could be, or, if you must get new, let it be as +little as possible.”</p> + +<p>“Your taste is excellent, señorita, but do not +young ladies generally prefer something brighter +and lighter, more in keeping with their charming +selves?”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="page_218"></span> +“Those qualities can be considered in the frescoes +and the draperies.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, I see. When it comes to that point I shall, +if I may, ask your invaluable aid in selecting the +proper stuffs. Your sister tells me that Mlle. +Delambre, is fiancée to a young Frenchman.”</p> + +<p>“Yes, and quite happy.”</p> + +<p>“She is rather an attractive girl, but there are +others far more so. I prefer a dark type of beauty +myself.”</p> + +<p>Patty glanced at her sister whose face was a +study. Then Don Juan entered and the talk fell +upon the respective values of certain antiques, and +the two ladies left the men in the heart of an animated +discussion.</p> + +<p>“What do you suppose he is going to do?” Patty +asked her sister when they were safe outside.</p> + +<p>“You goose, he is thinking of marrying, of +course.”</p> + +<p>“But whom is he going to marry?”</p> + +<p>Her sister laughed. “I should think it pretty +evident whom he had in mind.”</p> + +<p>Patty looked puzzled and ran over the conversation. +“You surely don’t mean me?” she said, after +a pause.</p> + +<p>“Who else?”</p> + +<p>“I am sure I don’t know, but oh, dear, after the +way I have snubbed him, he must be an idiot to +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_219"></span> +think I can be picked out and carried home like a +door-knocker or an antique plate.”</p> + +<p>“It is his conceit, my dear, which makes him +think he can do just that thing. When he is all +ready he imagines all he will have to do will be to +call upon your proper guardians, present his request +in proper form and forthwith it will be granted with +an appropriate degree of gratitude for the honor. +You must remember that he is a blue-blood hidalgo, +and that a simple little American girl like yourself +could not think of refusing him.”</p> + +<p>“Then just let him go ahead and find out, the old +silly thing. I hope you will encourage him to spend +all he will upon the house; it needs it, heaven knows. +I shall do my best to egg him on, and then see how +beautifully he will get fooled.”</p> + +<p>“You are really in a temper about it.”</p> + +<p>“Of course I am.”</p> + +<p>“But fancy what a triumph to write to Paulette +and announce that you are to marry him. She was +ready enough to become mistress of that old <i>palacio</i>, +for all she pretended the master was too old. I saw +things, my dear, and I know.”</p> + +<p>Patty laughed. “You are actually scheming, +yourself, but no Auld Robin Grey for me, if you +please.”</p> + +<p>“You know I didn’t mean it, Patty. Of course, +I couldn’t when there is—Tomás.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="page_220"></span> +“Oh, yes,” Patty’s face clouded, “there is Tomás.”</p> + +<p>“What has happened, Patty, child? I have noticed +that you avoid him of late. Have you quarreled?”</p> + +<p>“No, but—”</p> + +<p>“You feel conscious, dear child. Of course since +you are aware that we know how matters stand, I +can appreciate how you might feel. Never mind, +Juan is doing his best to settle Tomás’s future and +when all is arranged you can be regularly engaged, +Don Felipe or no Don Felipe.”</p> + +<p>Patty put her arms around her sister. “Tina, +you are a perfect darling, and I am an ungrateful +wretch. There is time enough to think about my +affairs, for I am ‘ower young to marry.’ I shall +want my freedom for years to come.”</p> + +<p>“You are likely to have it,” returned her sister, +gravely, “if Tomás goes to seek his fortune in Mexico.”</p> + +<p>Patty made no reply but her thoughts flew back +to the lonely hill and the girl lying prone on her +face in the long grass.</p> + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + + +<div class="chapter"> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_221"></span> +<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_XVI">CHAPTER <abbr title="Sixteen">XVI</abbr></h2> + +<h3 class="x-ebookmaker-important">BY REASON OF SAINT ANTHONY</h3></div> + + +<p>Remembering the next morning her laughing +promise to Perdita that she would make use of St. +Anthony’s powers in trying to find the lost earrings, +Patty went to the dim little chapel in order +to abstract the figure of the saint. She was still +child enough to enjoy the prospect of dangling the +image down the well, with no feeling of irreverence +in doing so. “If these people think it all right, why +shouldn’t I?” she asked herself. As she opened the +door leading into the chapel she observed two +faintly gleaming candles at the side of the altar and +going forward she perceived that they were burning +before the figure of St. Anthony himself.</p> + +<p>“Now, who has put those up there?” she exclaimed. +“I suppose whoever it is, he or she will +be distressed if I take the old fellow away. Besides, +he looks so comfortable and complacent standing +there I’d better not disturb him. The candles +have done at least this much good; they have saved +him from a dousing.”</p> + +<p>She went out the smaller door, up the long flight +of steps and into the upper room where her sister +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_222"></span> +was sitting knitting her brows over her weekly accounts.</p> + +<p>“There is something wrong here,” said Doña +Martina, looking up. “Patty, just run over these +figures and see if you can find any mistake in it. I +am sure with no one at home but Juan and ourselves +there should be less spent than when the family was +larger, yet it is just the same amount.”</p> + +<p>Patty took the book and added up the column. +“I make it exactly the same as you do,” she announced +the result.</p> + +<p>“Then I am sure I have made no mistake. I +wish you would go down and ask Manuela to come +here to me.”</p> + +<p>Patty did as she was requested and stayed below +to watch her favorite pair of pigeons, Alphonso and +Victoria, and to stick red geraniums over the ears +of Ba-Ba the pet lamb which had been Perdita’s +gift on the day of San Juan. Ba-Ba, tethered out +of reach of the choicest flowers, was nibbling at +such delectable morsels as he could find, but upon +seeing Patty set up a plaintive bleat, knowing he +might be set free if Patty were at hand. His hopes +were not without foundation, for the girl unfastened +the rope which held him and he capered off with a +fling up of his heels that showed his joy.</p> + +<p>“Now behave yourself, or I will tie you up again,” +Patty warned him. “Doña Martina doesn’t allow +any liberties taken with her flowers, remember. I +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_223"></span> +suppose I shall have to watch you.” She sat down +on an old stone bench from which she could watch +the lamb’s movements. Presently Anita came out +with something hidden under her apron. She +started at sight of Patty, and went back.</p> + +<p>“Now what did she do that for,” said Patty to +herself. “She looked scared at sight of me. I must +go in and find out. Come here, Ba-Ba.” But +there was no “come here” comprehended by Ba-Ba. +He had his freedom and meant to make the most of +it. So he led Patty a chase around the garden, +dodging under bushes, squeezing through shrubbery, +kicking up his heels and prancing off with tail +straight out, and a shake of his head which said, +“Catch me if you can.” But at last Patty managed +to outwit him and dragged him back to his corner, +where he was again made fast and allowed but a +small area for pasture.</p> + +<p>As Patty entered the kitchen, flushed from her +exercise, Anita did not stir from her work of preparing +vegetables, but kept her eyes cast down. +Manuela was still upstairs. “What is the matter, +Anita?” Patty asked, after watching the girl for a +moment or two.</p> + +<p>“Nothing, señorita.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, but there is. What did you have under +your apron when you came into the garden just +now, and why did you run back in such haste?”</p> + +<p>The color came into Anita’s face. “Why, +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_224"></span> +señorita, I—I was just going to the chapel for a +moment.”</p> + +<p>“Is the outer door unlocked then? I thought one +could get in only by the upper door.”</p> + +<p>“It is unlocked, yes, señorita.”</p> + +<p>“Then, perhaps—” she stopped to think, “perhaps +it was you who set the candles before St. +Anthony.”</p> + +<p>Anita dropped into the pan of vegetables the knife +she was holding and began to cry. “Oh, señorita,” +she complained.</p> + +<p>“Have you lost something?”</p> + +<p>“Oh, señorita, you know.”</p> + +<p>“I am sure I don’t know, and if you wanted to set +the candles there I don’t see why you should not.”</p> + +<p>“Yes, señorita, I know, but the earrings—those +which you lost.”</p> + +<p>“I see. And you thought we might believe you +took them, so you are burning candles to St. +Anthony that they may be restored?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, señorita.”</p> + +<p>At this juncture Manuela came in. “Anita, the +señora wants you. What are you crying for?”</p> + +<p>Anita did not reply, but set down the pan and +prepared to go upstairs.</p> + +<p>“She may well weep,” said Manuela, severely. +“One cannot buy candles without money.”</p> + +<p>“What do you mean, Manuela?” inquired Patty. +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_225"></span> +“I know Anita has been burning candles to St. +Anthony because she thinks we suspect her of +taking the earrings. Of course I know they have +not been found, and we cannot see how they could +be spirited away, but we have not charged anyone.”</p> + +<p>“The <i>huestas</i>, señorita, or the gipsies. An evil +eye have the gipsies and who knows? Who knows? +If they bewitch a thing, <i>no hay remedia</i>, yet I do +not say they may not be found, those earrings. +Once I lost a brooch which my mother had given +me. I searched for a month in great trouble, and +one day when I was going to church, as I took up +my mantilla, behold the brooch had caught in the +lace and had been there all the time. I told the +<i>padre</i> and he said it was a righteous punishment. +If I had gone at once to church to pray to St. +Anthony I would have probably taken out my mantilla +and so have discovered the brooch. I deserved +to worry,” he said.</p> + +<p>This gave Patty an idea and she hurried to her +room, took her mantilla from the drawer where she +had placed it the day her sister gave it to her, and +shook it out. Sure enough from it dropped one of +the earrings. The other was found clinging to +the lace threads by reason of the open filigree. +Gathering all up Patty ran into the living-room +where Anita, bowed before Doña Martina, was sobbing +out a confession.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="page_226"></span> +“And so, when you went to market each time you +took a little of my money to buy candles to burn to +St. Anthony,” Doña Martina was saying.</p> + +<p>“Yes, señora. I had to give all my wages to my +family, and I had no money. The candles had to be +bought. What could I do?”</p> + +<p>“But, girl, don’t you see that it was stealing, and +that it was worse to take a thing than to be suspected +when you were innocent?”</p> + +<p>“I had to get the candles and there was no other +way,” repeated Anita, through her tears.</p> + +<p>“The earrings are found,” announced Patty, +holding them up. “They had caught in the lace of +my mantilla, and when I put that away the earrings +went, too. They were lying on the same +table, you remember.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, señora! Señorita!” Anita sprang to her +feet and smiled through her tears. “So you see St. +Anthony did find them, and it must have been because +of the candles. Oh, I am so glad.”</p> + +<p>“But Anita, that doesn’t lessen the fact that you +took my money,” expostulated Doña Martina.</p> + +<p>“But it was only for the candles, señora, and you +see for yourself that St. Anthony—”</p> + +<p>Doña Martina stopped her with a wave of the +hand and turned to her sister. “It is impossible to +make her understand,” she said. “You may go +down, Anita, but if ever again you are guilty of +taking even so much as a penny of what is not yours, +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_227"></span> +I shall dismiss you at once, St. Anthony or Saint +anybody else.”</p> + +<p>“But he did find them,” murmured Anita, as she +cheerfully went back to her work.</p> + +<p>“There is no use trying to teach them a proper +standard in matters of this kind,” said Doña Martina, +“and I suppose the girl is honest enough in +other directions. She was greatly distressed over +the possibility of being suspected and Manuela told +me of the candles and of herself wondering where +Anita got the money for them. So long as the earrings +are found I suppose even Manuela will see no +wrong in what Anita did. I am glad they are not +lost, Patty, and that you discovered them in this +special way; it makes us all more comfortable.”</p> + +<p>“I shall not allow them to be neighbors to any +more lacey things,” declared Patty. “I will put +them in a box and give them to Perdita as soon as I +can. Still working over the accounts, Tina?”</p> + +<p>Her sister sighed. “Yes, I must keep down expenses, +for small as they really are, I must try to +save all I can for emergencies.”</p> + +<p>“Poor darling.” Patty laid her cheek against +her sister’s hair. “And if I should accept the renovated +<i>palacio</i> you would be free of me at least.”</p> + +<p>“Don’t talk so,” returned her sister, sharply. +“As if I could be happy for a moment knowing you +had sacrificed yourself. It isn’t as bad as that, +Patty. There is quite enough for us all, and we +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_228"></span> +should keep up this house just the same whether +you were here or not. Surely when you make no +demands upon anyone in other directions you +should not feel under any obligation.”</p> + +<p>“I suppose I should not, only I hate to see you +worried. If we sell the old home, Tina, will there +be more?”</p> + +<p>“Very likely not, unless we could invest it so that +the interest would bring in more than the rent does +now. You need not think of that, dear. We are +really living on much less than we could anywhere +else, only I am ambitious to do better that we may +put by for a rainy day. In Juan’s state of health +that seems important, and moreover, I take a sort of +pride in seeing how well I can do on the least +amount.”</p> + +<p>“Can I help you?”</p> + +<p>“No, I must do it myself. Run along and don’t +worry.”</p> + +<p>Patty went slowly downstairs. What a dear Tina +it was and how abominably she was treating her +by allowing her to believe things which were not so. +“I’ll have to ’fess some day, I suppose,” she +said, “but if Perdita goes to the convent and Tomás +to America there is no hurry. I wonder when +Tomás will be back, by the way.”</p> + +<p>She stopped to have a word with Manuela who +was eager to hear more of the discovery of the lost +earrings, and then she went out to the garden. +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_229"></span> +She wandered through its paths unheeding Ba-Ba’s +plaintive bleating. When she came to the door of +the chapel she tried it and found it opened. She +entered to find the candles before St. Anthony were +low in their sockets. One flickered and went out +as she stood watching it. “I wonder,” said she addressing +the figure before her, “if you can also restore +friends. I think candles seem more efficacious +than the dousing; suppose I try candles.” +She stood watching the expiring flame of the second +candle when she heard the door behind her +close, and a footstep on the stone floor, then someone +gave an apologetic little cough.</p> + +<p>“Is that you, Tomás?” asked Patty. “There, I +said I wouldn’t look around till it went out and it +has almost. Well?”</p> + +<p>“It isn’t Tomás, Miss Patty; it is I.”</p> + +<p>“Oh!” Patty wheeled around, the flickering candle +sending up a last dying gleam. “You? It is +you?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, I am sorry if you are disappointed, but I +can’t help being just Robert Lisle.”</p> + +<p>“And I can’t help being surprised when you have +been away such a long, long while. How have you +been?”</p> + +<p>“I have been quite well, though I, too, appreciate +that it has been a long, long while, and I have come +back because I couldn’t stay away any longer.”</p> + +<p>“Couldn’t you? Why?”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="page_230"></span> +“Because you and your sister are the only home +folks I have in this land.”</p> + +<p>Patty stiffened ever so little. “I suppose you +have come to say good-bye. Do you return to England +soon?”</p> + +<p>“Not yet awhile. There is nothing special to take +me there. My cousin, Walter Sterling, is with my +grandfather and neither needs me.”</p> + +<p>“But what of Miss Moffatt?”</p> + +<p>“Her memory was buried, you know.”</p> + +<p>“And has not been resurrected?”</p> + +<p>“No.”</p> + +<p>“Will you tell me about her; you said you would +some day. Has she light hair? She is like a gray +day, I remember, but I want to know not so much +what she is as who she is.”</p> + +<p>“She has quite light hair, yes, and blue eyes. +How did you guess? She is the girl my grandfather +expects me to marry.”</p> + +<p>“Does she expect it?”</p> + +<p>“She has no reason to. We have been friends for +a couple of years and I have paid her a few dutiful +attentions. She is wealthy and of good family.”</p> + +<p>Patty’s chin went up. “So she has all that is desirable. +When may we congratulate you?”</p> + +<p>“Oh, but aren’t you forging ahead rather fast? +Have you forgotten the obsequies?”</p> + +<p>“No, I haven’t forgotten but—she seems so exactly +the proper choice.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="page_231"></span> +“So my grandfather says, but I do not say so. +She is not my choice and I have written to say so. +She will not want for suitors. They are liable to +come forward in numbers.”</p> + +<p>“But what if—”</p> + +<p>“Go on, please.”</p> + +<p>“What if you are her choice? What if she believes +herself to be the one you have chosen?”</p> + +<p>“I do not see how she could think that.”</p> + +<p>“You write to her?”</p> + +<p>“I wrote once, a friendly letter when I first came +away. The second letter I destroyed without sending. +I have told my grandfather that, while I appreciated +all he had done for me, in matters of this +kind I must use my own judgment and that Miss +Moffatt was not the woman for me, this I had discovered +since I came to Spain.”</p> + +<p>“I thought ‘absence made the heart grow fonder’?”</p> + +<p>“It does in some cases, as I can speak from my +own experience.”</p> + +<p>Why did Patty suddenly lean forward to put an +extinguishing finger on the smoking wick, since +there was not light enough to discover the red which +flamed up into her cheek. She said not a word but +stood looking at St. Anthony.</p> + +<p>“I am thinking of going to America, to the +States,” the young man went on. “If my father +left me no fortune, at least he left me friends and +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_232"></span> +relatives over there who are warm-hearted and +sincere.”</p> + +<p>“Tomás is going to America, perhaps, and Perdita +to a convent. Polly is going to be married +and—oh, dear—”</p> + +<p>“But there is still Don Felipe.”</p> + +<p>“Yes, but what of him?”</p> + +<p>“Exactly. What of him?”</p> + +<p>“He is getting very frivolous in his old age and +is talking of making all sorts of changes at the +<i>palacio</i>.”</p> + +<p>“What for?”</p> + +<p>“We think he is preparing for a young wife.”</p> + +<p>“And who might she be?”</p> + +<p>“She might be most anyone, but there are reasons +why we suspect he believes she will be your humble +servant.”</p> + +<p>“Oh!” The exclamation came sharply.</p> + +<p>It hurt him, of that Patty was sure and her tender +heart could not bear to see anyone hurt. “I didn’t +say,” she broke the silence, “I was the one, I only +said we thought he rather counted on it, just as +your grandfather counted on Miss Moffatt, and +with just as much result.”</p> + +<p>“I am very glad of that.” The words came +simply. Then after a pause: “And Tomás?”</p> + +<p>“I could tell you tales of Tomás, but I must not. +He is a dear lad and I am very fond of him, but he +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_233"></span> +is going to America, as I said, and may be gone two +or three years.”</p> + +<p>Robert drew a sigh as of one rid of a load, and +again silence fell.</p> + +<p>“How did you know I was in here?” Patty asked +presently.</p> + +<p>“When I came I asked for the ladies. Doña Martina +was upstairs I was told and the señorita +Patty had gone into the chapel, Anita had just observed. +Would I join her there? So I came and +found you.”</p> + +<p>“Are you going soon to the States?”</p> + +<p>“I don’t know. My business here is about over. +It has not been disappointing, and may lead to other +things of the same sort. There is some talk of an +English syndicate, composed of the same men, who +may conclude to work some mines in our West. I +am talked of in connection with that if it materializes, +but it will not be for some months; those things +take time. Aside from that I have no special prospects, +and shall go to Kentucky or elsewhere as circumstances +direct.”</p> + +<p>This time it was Patty who gave a long sigh as of +content. “Will you go in and see Tina?” she asked. +There were hours, days, perhaps weeks ahead, and +one need be in no haste when time was not an object.</p> + +<p>They left St. Anthony in darkness and took the +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_234"></span> +upper way to the house to find Doña Martina had +finished her accounts and was wondering where +Robert was, Anita having told her of his arrival.</p> + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + + +<div class="chapter"> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_235"></span><h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_XVII">CHAPTER <abbr title="Seventeen">XVII</abbr></h2> + +<h3>PATTY IS PUZZLED</h3></div> + + +<p>Fearing a second accident to the earrings Patty +resolved the next day to take them to Perdita whom +she had not seen since the meeting on the lonely hill. +There was no fear of missing a visit from Robert, +since Patty in a tremor lest he should believe her too +eager to see him, had said she would not be at home +till later. It was a fine calm morning when she +started out. Over the mountains was a blue haze, +the sky toward the west was golden clear, but along +the mountain tops soft mists drifted, once in a while +lifting to show the outline of the range which continued +on and on to the sea. The summer was +nearly over but the air was still warm and balmy, +and there was no prospect of chill in it.</p> + +<p>Leaving Ba-Ba bleating after her and Guido looking +out from his stable window the girl went on +foot past the garden and up the long crooked path +leading to the mountain. The gipsies had long +since departed, only the blackened embers of their +camp fire giving evidence of their ever having been +there. As she walked along, Patty pondered on the +gipsy’s prophecy. The fair-haired woman must be +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_236"></span> +Miss Moffatt of whom she no longer felt jealous. +Why should she, since all that affair was closed? +Though perhaps, after all, the grandfather would +be so angry that Robert would not be able to stand +out against him. Yet, it was a comfort to know +that so far there had been no sentimental passages +in the direction of “the drab girl,” as Patty had +come to call her. As for the rest, would all end as +she wished? She was singularly light of heart as +she walked along. The world seemed suddenly +brighter, her troubles of less account. “I know now +why I was unhappy,” she told herself, “but I didn’t +know till I saw him. I really didn’t, and that is +why I was afraid to see him this morning too early. +I was afraid he would find out too soon what I have +only just learned myself. I can appreciate now +how Perdita felt. Poor Perdita, I wonder what +will be her future?”</p> + +<p>She climbed on up the height till just ahead she +saw the little farmstead, then she suddenly stopped. +Surely that was Don Felipe’s horse! And, yes, it +was Don Felipe himself standing there in earnest +conversation with old Catalina. Surely he was +counting out money. Patty crept behind the hedge +and waited. She would not intrude. She would +stay where she was till the transaction was over. +What did it mean? Was he buying some curio? +It must be very valuable, for that was the gleam of +gold and those were banknotes which Catalina was +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_237"></span> +stowing away. Why was Don Felipe so lavish all +at once? Suddenly it came over her like a flash +that perhaps it was he who was educating Perdita, +and that it was Perdita whom he wanted to marry.</p> + +<p>Her face dimpled. “What a joke on us if it is +so,” she murmured. Then she became very grave. +Poor Perdita! poor Tomás! Was this why Perdita +had not appeared at the house for several days? +Had she kept back a part of her trouble, and was +this why she had seemed so despairing? Patty was +puzzled.</p> + +<p>She kept in hiding till Don Felipe had mounted +his horse and had gone trotting by, then she waited +till a turn in the road hid him from view before she +crept out and went up to the house. Her knock at +the door was answered by Catalina. No, Perdita +was not in; she had gone to the village perhaps, or +to the <i>cura</i>. Catalina did not know which. Would +the señorita come in and wait? She must be tired +from the climb. How was the good doctor and his +señora? Praise the saints, she, Catalina was well, +and had nothing to complain of now that she had +her eyes again.</p> + +<p>But Patty would not stay. She made her adieu +and went off without referring to the plans for Perdita’s +future, and without mentioning that she had +been witness to Don Felipe’s visit. On the way +home conjectures were rife. She knew Catalina +was avaricious and that for money she would readily +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_238"></span> +bargain with Don Felipe. Moreover, what a +triumph for her ambition if he were to marry her +granddaughter. That he was much impressed by +the girl, Patty had every reason to know. “And it +is probably all my doing,” she said, ruefully. “If +I had not dressed her up that day he would never +have noticed her one way or the other, but what old +man, or young one either, could resist anything so +lovely as she was. I never saw anyone so beautiful. +No wonder he completely lost his head. Poor +Tomás! Poor Perdita! For of course she will +have to marry him, if he has the grandmother and +the <i>cura</i> on his side. Fancy Perdita’s being at the +head of that old <i>palacio</i> and fancy the surprise of +Tomás.”</p> + +<p>Arriving at home she found her sister at the +door looking after a figure which was fast disappearing +down the road. “Robert has been here; he +has just gone.”</p> + +<p>“Oh!” Patty felt bitter disappointment. Why +couldn’t he have waited five minutes longer, when +she had told him she would not be back till later in +the morning? If he were so impatient to see her +could he not have remained till she returned? Yet +none of this would she betray to her sister, so she +said with seeming indifference, “He seems to be in +a hurry. Heigho! it isn’t as cool as one would +suppose. I have been walking too fast. Has +Tomás come back yet?”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="page_239"></span> +“Yes, I believe so, though he has not arrived at +the house. Come in, Patty; or, no, let us go into +the summer-house. I want to talk to you.”</p> + +<p>Patty glanced at her sister. There was unusual +gravity in her tones and the girl’s heart beat fast. +Had the moment arrived for revelations? And +was she ready to face them? She showed none of +her perturbation, however, but said lightly, “I went +to carry Perdita her earrings, but there seems to +be a fatality about them, for I had to bring them +back again, as she was not there. I didn’t want to +leave them, for I don’t exactly trust that old grandmother. +She said Perdita was not at home.”</p> + +<p>“Yes, I know she was not.”</p> + +<p>“Why, has she been here?”</p> + +<p>“No. Sit down, Patty, and let us talk things +over. If I am not mistaken, there has been some +deception going on.”</p> + +<p>Patty seated herself on the stool opposite her +sister, in the same spot she had occupied when Doña +Martina looked in upon herself and Tomás that +fatal day. “What do you mean?” she asked faintly.</p> + +<p>“I mean that either you and Tomás have been +pulling the wool over my eyes or that you and I +both are greatly deceived. That sly, designing +girl!”</p> + +<p>“Now, Tina, please—”</p> + +<p>“I forget, you may not know, poor child. I must +tell you, then, for your own good, that this morning +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_240"></span> +I started out to see one of Juan’s patients and +carry her some broth. I took a short cut through +the woods and suddenly saw ahead of me Tomás +and Perdita. They were so absorbed that they did +not see me, and I turned back at once, so I suppose +I was not seen at all, though I made no mistake in +recognizing them, and then, Patty, dear, you were +right in the very beginning. He is a wolf in +sheep’s clothing.” She stretched out her hand and +clasped her sister’s, “But it is better you should +know before it is too late. He had his arm around +Perdita, her head was on his shoulder and she was +evidently crying while he tried to comfort her.” +Doña Martina’s voice shook as she spoke.</p> + +<p>Patty nervously withdrew her hand. “I think +I can explain it,” she said. “I believe I know why +Perdita was crying.” Then she told of what she +had seen that morning, and of the conclusion she +had drawn. “So, you see,” she said with a little +half smile, “it will settle any affair between Tomás +and Perdita, and I suppose they were taking a last +sad farewell.”</p> + +<p>Her sister regarded her with surprised eyes. +“But, Patty,” she cried, “you take it so calmly. +Don’t you really care that Tomás has been trifling +with both of you?”</p> + +<p>“He hasn’t been, Tina, dear. Oh, I know I am +a sad sinner, but really Tomás and I have never +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_241"></span> +had the little tender meetings you imagine. The +whole world might have heard what we had to say, +so far as we personally are concerned. That day +when you came upon us in here, I had just promised +to stand by him and Perdita, who have been in love +with each other for two years, and he was only +expressing his gratitude. Now, wait a minute before +you say anything. They felt that they could +not grieve Juan, who has been so good to them both, +and so they have kept the affair a secret. Neither +one would have been willing to marry without +Juan’s consent, and would even have given up one +another, but I advised them to wait and see what +time would develop. You see what has happened +and you ought to feel terribly sorry for them instead +of blaming them. It is not in the least surprising +that a young man left entirely alone, as +Tomás was, should find consolation in the loveliest +girl in the vicinity, or that she should give her love +to him, and I think they are to be pitied.”</p> + +<p>“I do feel sorry for them. But, Patty, were you +never the least in love with Tomás?”</p> + +<p>“Never, never. We are excellent friends, and +all of that getting off by ourselves and the whisperings +were because we wanted to discuss all this +which I have been telling you. Perdita is a darling +and I am perfectly disgusted that she is to marry +that old mummy.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="page_242"></span> +“But you only surmise that.”</p> + +<p>“To be sure. Yet I think all points that way, +don’t you?”</p> + +<p>“I must confess I do.” Doña Martina sat silent +with hands folded across the table, a look of sadness +upon her fine face. Presently she sighed +deeply. “Patty,” she said, “I didn’t think you +could so deceive your sister. I think that part +grieves me more than all the rest.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, I know I am a perfect wretch, but I didn’t +realize till I was in the thick of it, and then I didn’t +like to go back on my word. At first I did it only +to tease you. I thought it was such fun to pretend +that Tomás and I were smitten with one another, +but after a while I got deeper and deeper into the +affair. I felt so conscience-smitten and you were +such a darling. I realize that I am a perfect ingrate, +and I feel as grieved about myself as you +do.” The tears came to her eyes. “It has taught +me a lesson and I shall never again put my finger +into another such a pie. Please say you forgive +me, Tina, and that you are sorry for Tomás and +Perdita.”</p> + +<p>“I forgive you, Patty, of course, though I am +dreadfully hurt that you should have acted so, yet +on the whole I think I am relieved that it is not +Tomás. I tried to make the best of it and would +have accepted the situation gracefully, I hope, but +now that it seems probable that Juan will cut loose +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_243"></span> +from here after a little, and that Tomás will probably +go to Mexico, we should have been separated +after all, and I am glad to keep my sister near me +for a while, naughty as she is.”</p> + +<p>“And are you sorry it is not for her that the +grand <i>palacio</i> is to be fitted up?”</p> + +<p>“Not in the least. I know your mind on that +subject.” She was silent for a moment, then she +said, “There is another thing, Patty, although I +see now that I was wrong in thinking you might +be trifling with Tomás; what about Robert Lisle? +I am afraid he thinks a great deal of you.”</p> + +<p>Patty’s head drooped and she played nervously +with her handkerchief, folding and unfolding it on +the table. “What makes you think that?” she at +last found voice to say.</p> + +<p>“He has just been here, you know, and from what +he said, I gathered that he—cared—but, as he said, +he has his way to make and he has no right to +speak. He said that in time he hoped to be sufficiently +established to be able to offer a home to the +woman he wished to marry. In the meantime, it +was not honorable, he thought, for him to stand in +the way of a worthier man or of a more prosperous +marriage, should one offer. So he must keep +silence.”</p> + +<p>“And then?”</p> + +<p>“And then,” her sister gave a searching look at +the still downcast face, “oh, Patty, I told him that +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_244"></span> +it was Tomás, and oh, dear, he looked like one +smitten and I was afraid you have been playing +with him instead of Tomás. I was so possessed +with the idea that it was Tomás, you see, and I +thought it would be kinder to let him go without +seeing you, and so—he has gone.”</p> + +<p>“Not gone altogether? He is coming back to +say good-bye to me? You don’t mean gone away +from here?” Patty stretched out her hands imploringly.</p> + +<p>“I am afraid so. It did seem better. He left +his good-byes and best wishes for your happiness.” +There was real distress in Doña Martina’s tones.</p> + +<p>“And he will go to England, and she has light +hair!” cried Patty wildly. “Oh, Tina, what have +you done? What have you done?”</p> + +<p>“I didn’t know, dear. I didn’t know. Oh, if +you had only confided in me.”</p> + +<p>“I didn’t confide in myself, and I didn’t know +either, not till this time when he came back. I had +been unhappy sometimes, but I didn’t know why, +and when he came into the chapel yesterday I was +never so glad to see anyone in all my life and then—I +knew—but I thought he was going to stay on +and on and on, and it was like a beautiful dream +that I didn’t want to waken from. I thought—I +almost knew he cared—but I wanted the secret all +to myself until—until he really said so. Oh, Tina, +don’t say he has actually gone. He couldn’t have. +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_245"></span> +Why, it is only a few minutes ago I saw him walking +down the road.”</p> + +<p>“I know dear child, but I think he meant to put +the matter to a test to-day, for he told me he should +be able to make the train, and I have heard it +whistle since we sat here. I fancy he was prepared +for what he might hear from me.”</p> + +<p>Patty still held out shaking hands. “Why didn’t +you tell me at once—at once?” She felt that she +could have rushed after him, have gone on wings +of mad longing and have intercepted him before he +should get away.</p> + +<p>“Because, dear, as I have told you, I didn’t dream +but that it was Tomás, and I was so full of that +as the prime matter of importance that I let the +other go till I should have discussed the thing that +was uppermost in my mind. However,” she added +comfortingly, “I will send a note to the <i>fonda</i> at +once, in case he is still there. I will go now and +write so that Anita can take it.”</p> + +<p>“Did he say where he was going from here?” +inquired Patty, lifting her head, which she had +dropped on her arms.</p> + +<p>“No. He said he would write me when he felt +equal to it, poor boy.”</p> + +<p>“Don’t, don’t,” wailed Patty. “It isn’t your fault, +Tina; it is all mine, all, all. I’ve been an idiot all +the way through. I’ve been a silly, stupid, ungrateful +wretch and I haven’t been true to anyone.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="page_246"></span> +“Except Tomás and Perdita, dear girl, and you +have been too true to them. After all, as I think +of it, I am the only one with whom you have not +been quite sincere, for now I know about Tomás, I +don’t see that you have been untrue to any other +than your cross old sister.”</p> + +<p>“You’re not cross; you are a darling; the best +sister in the world. It is I who have been all in +the wrong and I am being punished for it.” She +dropped her head again.</p> + +<p>Her sister leaned over and passed her hand caressingly +over the dark hair. “I will go and send +the note now, dear, and if he has not gone we can +soon set the matter right. Do you care so much +you would be willing to wait, perhaps for years, +Patty, darling?”</p> + +<p>“I’d wait for him years, yes, a lifetime. I am +young and I have you, Tina. Oh, keep me close +beside you. I am so miserable! I am so miserable! +How can anyone be so unhappy all of a +sudden?”</p> + +<p>“It isn’t irretrievable, dearest.” Her sister knelt +down beside her. “I can write to England; we +know where his grandfather lives, and I will send +a letter there telling of my mistake.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, but you mustn’t—you mustn’t say it makes +any difference to me; I couldn’t stand that.”</p> + +<p>“Dear little sister, trust to me. I will manage +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_247"></span> +so he will know that it is not Tomás, and that will +be enough.”</p> + +<p>With this comfort and the hope that the young +man really might not have gone, Patty was obliged +to be satisfied, but she sat in the summer-house +alone while her sister went to despatch the note. +She heard Anita go forth and knew it would be +nearly an hour before she could be expected to +return, yet still she sat and waited. After a long +time she heard her sister’s footsteps, though she +did not dare to hope, but,—ah, if it should be!</p> + +<p>Doña Martina came softly in and laid a hand on +the bowed head. “I am so grieved to tell you, dear +little girl, but he had gone.”</p> + +<p>“I knew it, I knew it,” murmured Patty.</p> + +<p>“Tomás has come in and he looks as unhappy as +you. Oh, you poor children, you poor children, +all of you so miserable. I think, dear, if you will +consider, the plight of Tomás and Perdita is far +worse than yours, for theirs is hopeless while yours +is not.”</p> + +<p>“We don’t know that,” returned Patty, whose +thoughts had been very busy. “He may go +straight off and marry Miss Moffatt.”</p> + +<p>“And who is she?”</p> + +<p>“The girl his grandfather wants him to marry.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, I didn’t know about her. I must not delay +in writing to him, then. I will find an excuse this +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_248"></span> +very night and I will make a point of putting my +own name and address on the outside of the envelope.” +This she did, and the days lagged heavily +enough till a reply might be expected, but none +came; instead the letter was returned with “Address +unknown” written across it.</p> + +<p>Meanwhile Perdita had gone to Llanes to remain +a couple of weeks while her wardrobe was +being prepared. Only once had Patty seen her and +that was when she came to say good-bye. With +heavy eyes the two looked on one another, each so +filled with her own sorrow that she had nothing but +commonplaces in the way of speech. Patty gave +the earrings as a parting gift; Perdita brought as +a last token a piece of her embroidery. So they +parted and who could tell what turn of fate would +bring them together again?</p> + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + + +<div class="chapter"> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_249"></span> +<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_XVIII">CHAPTER <abbr title="Eighteen">XVIII</abbr></h2> + +<h3>WAITING</h3></div> + + +<p>It was not long after Perdita’s departure that +Tomás, too, left home to take a position in Mexico +which had been secured for him by some friends +of his brother’s, and with him gone Patty felt that +she had lost her last young companion. The two +had become fast friends and comrades, and with +the utter disappearance of Robert Lisle, and with +Perdita removed, Don Juan and his wife sometimes +whispered to one another that perhaps, after all, +the one’s brother and the other’s sister might find +consolation in a mature affection in the years to +come. “One so seldom marries one’s first love,” remarked +Doña Martina, “and they are all so young, +of course they will recover, especially as they are +so entirely separated from the objects of their affection.” +She had, nevertheless, written to her Uncle +Henry Beckwith, had asked if any news had been +had of Robert Lisle, and in time received the reply +that at last reports he was about to go to South +Africa with a party of Englishmen, and that nothing +had been heard from him since.</p> + +<p>South Africa! To Patty this might as well have +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_250"></span> +been out of the world. She could no longer be +called the Glad Lady, though her natural exuberance +would often come to the front, yet her face +had become more thoughtful, the girlish roundness +was departing from it, and the knowledge of +womanhood’s reality showed in the expression of +the lovely eyes. She spent much time in the little +chapel where she and Robert had last met, and +would sit there in front of St. Anthony lost in +dreams. If only she had not gone that morning to +Perdita’s with the earrings. Such a slight thing +to change one’s whole life, “The little more and +how much it is—” When her thoughts had traveled +over and over the same ground till they maddened +her, she would get up and go out to Guido, +who, in these days, was more petted than ever before. +He had grown so sleek and fat that his +former master would never have recognized him. +Indeed, with his pretty new harness and trappings, +Patty had taken delight in showing him off to Don +Felipe, who could scarcely believe this to be the +forlorn, scrubby little beast which the beggar had +ridden. “So, you see,” Patty had said, “after all, +it was a great bargain,” a fact which Don Felipe +was obliged to admit, if unwillingly.</p> + +<p>The old don came often, generally with a roll of +drawings tucked under his arm. These would be +spread out and much discussed, for they represented +plans for alterations or decorations, and in them +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_251"></span> +Patty took a lively interest, although she felt many +pangs of sympathy for Perdita, lonely and homesick +away off in Madrid, for thus far had she +gone.</p> + +<p>“This room would be charming in rose pink,” +said Patty one day, when she had been going over +some plans with Don Felipe. “She would look +lovely against such a background with her hair and +eyes.”</p> + +<p>The old don gave a suspicious glance from his +sharp eyes.</p> + +<p>“Oh, you needn’t think you are going to surprise +us all so very much,” Patty went on, the old mischief +returning to her face. “I have pretty good +reasons for believing our friend Perdita will some +day grace your <i>palacio</i>.”</p> + +<p>“And why?” The man looked down and nervously +fumbled at the edge of the paper he was holding.</p> + +<p>“Well, in the first place, I saw you were much +impressed the day I presented her as the Señorita +Gonzalez, and in the second place, I happened to +see you one day when you were having an interview +with her grandmother, and then, when it became +apparent that you were fitting up your house +for the reception of a young wife, it was not difficult +to draw conclusions, was it?”</p> + +<p>Don Felipe smiled. “Well, you will admit that +I have shown good taste,” he remarked.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="page_252"></span> +“Excellent; I never saw a more beautiful girl, +and she is as good as she is lovely.”</p> + +<p>“I believe that, otherwise—but now, since you +have put this and that together so cleverly, you +must let me thank you for showing such favor to +her, and for permitting me to become acquainted +with the beauty and virtues of the future mistress +of my house. I have but one more request to make, +and that is that you will respect my secret until such +time as I may be ready to make it public. It is a +little whim of mine to give a surprise to my friends +at large.”</p> + +<p>“You do not mind my sister’s knowing, do you? +She already suspects.”</p> + +<p>“No, for I am sure you are both honorable ladies, +who can be discreet as well as silent when occasion +requires.”</p> + +<p>“You can depend upon us, Don Felipe,” returned +Patty quietly. Poor Perdita, so there was no +longer any doubt, and poor Tomás!</p> + +<p>When Don Felipe had carried off his papers and +his coach had borne him away, Patty sought her +sister. “It is quite true, Tina,” she said; “Don +Felipe has confessed that it is Perdita for whom he +is getting the house ready, but he bound me over +to secrecy, or, at least, he said you could know, too, +but he trusted to us not to tell anyone. He was +really very nice about it, and if it were not for +Tomás, I should feel that Perdita need not be pitied +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_253"></span> +after all, for from her point of view she will be +making a great match.”</p> + +<p>“Yes, there is not a doubt of that, and of course +we can understand that he doesn’t want the subject +made the talk of the province, as it would be. I +quite respect his desire to keep it a secret. I am +surprised, however, that he should be spending all +this on his house for a bride who is unused to any +such splendor.”</p> + +<p>“That is just it, I think; he wants to dazzle her, +and play up to his character of King Cophetua. +Then, too, I think he will enjoy seeing her beauty +in a proper setting; he has not an inartistic taste, +that old don.”</p> + +<p>“I suppose he has made us the recipients of his +confidences because he is aware that we know few +people, and that, as two foreigners, we would be +less likely to noise the matter abroad.”</p> + +<p>“Very likely that is it, yet I think he is really +fond of us, in his way.”</p> + +<p>“I think he was very fond of you, and maybe +still is, in a certain way. I am sure it was only +Perdita who could have cut you out.”</p> + +<p>Patty laughed. “Well, it is too late now for any +regrets, isn’t it? I wouldn’t look badly myself in +that rose-colored room. Tina,” she went on after +a pause, “suppose he should die, or Catalina should, +before the two years are up, no one could force her +to marry him, for Tomás told me she has sworn +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_254"></span> +that she will never, never consent willingly, and +that she will be true to him.”</p> + +<p>“She knows, then?”</p> + +<p>“She suspects, or at least only suspected at first. +Don Felipe had been to the house two or three times, +had talked to her quite as one on intimate terms, +and he gave her a parting gift of a handsome jewel, +so you see she had to believe it, though she has +all along clung to the idea that it was her father +in South America who was doing all this for her. +Her grandmother insisted that she should accept +whatever Don Felipe offered and became very +angry one day and threatened to tell the <i>cura</i> when +Perdita protested. She still believes that her +father may prove the one hope on which she can +rely to escape, yet as she does not know where he +is, and the grandmother would move heaven and +earth in order to further this marriage, I don’t see +that there is much chance. Tomás told me most of +all this. Tina, if any one of these things did happen, +would Juan be willing to accept Perdita?” the +girl asked after a pause.</p> + +<p>“Oh, my dear, I don’t know. He was much cut +up when he first heard of the affair, but since all has +turned out this way he has scarcely referred to the +matter again, for, indeed, there seemed no need to.”</p> + +<p>“Two years—they have been in love with each +other for two years,” said Patty thoughtfully.</p> + +<p>“How do you know?”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="page_255"></span> +“Oh, they have confided everything in me. It +was after his mother’s death, and Tomás was lonely +and for a time not well. Perdita used to come to +his housekeeper with messages from her grandmother, +and once when the old housekeeper was ill +Perdita stayed to help her, and in that way the two +became better acquainted, and so it began. Then +he would sometimes, as if by accident, walk in her +direction, or they would meet on the road when he +had been to see Father Ignacio, and after a while +they met more and more frequently, then one day +a <i>vaquero</i> coming along said something impertinent +to Perdita and Tomás was furious; that was +when they found out how much they cared, and +after that they would meet secretly, for they did +not want anyone to talk about them. Tomás felt +that Perdita’s reputation must not suffer, though +all the time Tomás declared they must marry as +soon as they could. No doubt they would have +done so, if we had not all appeared on the scene. +Poor dears, how unhappy they must be.”</p> + +<p>“It is a pity, a great pity,” said Doña Martina +slowly. “That is what comes of shutting oneself +away from companions of one’s own class. If +Tomás had met girls of the proper kind, he would +have escaped this unfortunate attachment.”</p> + +<p>“But the poor lad; he couldn’t help himself. He +couldn’t leave his mother when she needed him, +and was the only child left to her.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="page_256"></span> +“I know, I know,” interrupted Doña Martina +hastily. “I am not blaming him, Patty. I am only +saying it was unfortunate.”</p> + +<p>“And I am sure,” Patty went on, “that if Perdita +is good enough for Don Felipe to marry, she ought +to be good enough for Tomás.”</p> + +<p>“We won’t discuss that,” said Doña Martina. +“I am sorry Tomás is still so unhappy. I have no +doubt the poor boy is homesick, yet there is nothing +to be done, I am afraid.” She was too tactful to +suggest that they would probably recover from +their present state of unhappiness, that they were +both too young to mourn long, for she knew that +Patty, at least, was still sore at heart. She looked +tenderly at the girl, who sat there with listless +hands in her lap. “Poor darling,” she thought, +“I wish we could help her, but there is no healer +except Time.” “Shall you go to Paulette’s wedding?” +she asked presently.</p> + +<p>Patty shook her head. “No, I shouldn’t enjoy +it, and besides I want to be with you at Christmas. +We haven’t had one together for two years.”</p> + +<p>“We must try to make as happy a time of it as +possible, then. Don’t look so hopeless, dear. You +know that it isn’t impossible that we hear any day +from Uncle Henry of someone’s whereabouts. He +must write to his friends at Christmas time, so don’t +be so downhearted.”</p> + +<p>“South Africa seems out of the universe,” Patty +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_257"></span> +made answer, “and then, too, there is Miss Moffatt; +that is the worst part of it. If he turns to her +there will be an end to it.”</p> + +<p>“Yes, but we came to the conclusion that he must +have been very decided about his intentions in that +direction or else his grandfather would not have +quarreled with him. We know they couldn’t be +on good terms, else my letter would not have been +returned in the way it was.”</p> + +<p>“I have gone over all that times without number,” +responded Patty wearily, “but just the same +there is the chance of his making up with his grandfather +on that very ground. That is the trouble +and when we shall at last have heard it will be too +late.”</p> + +<p>There was nothing to say to this except, “But +it may not be so. Let us look on the bright side +and wait to see.”</p> + +<p>“I am waiting. I have been waiting. It seems +to me as if I must keep on waiting till I am old and +worn out with it all,” returned Patty with a sudden +burst of passion.</p> + +<p>“You are too much alone,” her sister averred. +“I quite agree with Juan that it would be best to +winter in Paris. It may be a little more expensive, +but I think it will be better for both of you. He +is getting restless, and as for you, these lonely walks +and rides are not the thing at all.”</p> + +<p>“I’d really rather not go,” Patty rejoined. “I +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_258"></span> +couldn’t take Guido nor the chapel, and they are +such a comfort.”</p> + +<p>Her sister shook her head. The girl must indeed +be in a morbid state when these two things +were all her solace, and she was more than ever +decided that it would be best to make a change.</p> + +<p>Therefore, to Paris they went, and if its gay +scenes did not entirely satisfy Patty’s longings, they +at least roused her to a more wholesome attitude of +mind, so that the color came back to her cheeks and +the shadows under her eyes lessened.</p> + +<p>They stopped on their way at Poitiers in order to +have a glimpse of Paulette, who, voluble and important, +was absorbed in her coming wedding and +displayed her trousseau with much satisfaction. +She begged Patty to remain, but her refusal did +not make for much disappointment, since Paulette’s +own affairs were the main issue, and no one but +her fiancé possessed powers to interfere with her +content. He seemed a pleasant, commonplace person, +distinctly bourgeois, but adoring his chic little +betrothed, in whom he saw all the beauties and +virtues of womanhood combined.</p> + +<p>The finding of a proper apartment was at first +a matter of interest, and Patty could but show some +concern in this, then when it was finally decided +upon, the getting settled and the becoming acquainted +with the neighborhood served to take her +thoughts from purely personal matters.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="page_259"></span> +Perhaps the most interesting experience of the +winter was the meeting of an English girl who +knew the quiet Miss Moffatt, and who had met +Robert Lisle. That there was no announced engagement, +Patty learned to her satisfaction, that +there ever would be was a matter of mere conjecture, +for, said Alice Brainerd: “Beatrice has several +admirers and you know it is ‘out of sight out +of mind,’ more than once.” If this latter remark +contained also a grain of discomfort, the other information +overbalanced it, so that Patty was not +quite so unhappy as she had been.</p> + +<p>Once in a while came news from Kentucky, and +sometimes there was a slight reference to Robert, +but there was never any more said of his whereabouts, +and Patty was as much in the dark as ever.</p> + +<p>The English girl, Alice Brainerd, was a student +at the art school where Doña Martina sometimes +went to practise water-color, which she did rather +well and of which she was very fond. She often +brought Miss Brainerd home for a cup of afternoon +tea and it was in this way that they all became good +friends. Alice Brainerd came in one day with her +sketch book, in which she had been making a pencil +drawing at the afternoon sketch class.</p> + +<p>Patty picked up the book and began looking it +over. “Who is this?” she asked, pausing before +the head of a meek looking girl with smooth hair +and gentle eyes.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="page_260"></span> +“Oh, that is Beatrice Moffatt. Didn’t I ever +show it to you? It is not so very good, however.”</p> + +<p>Patty studied the face long and earnestly. “She +looks as if she were very good,” at last she said.</p> + +<p>“She is good; very pious, you know, very gentle, +yet she can be as obstinate as anybody. That meek +sort of person often is. I don’t believe Bee has an +enemy, yet she can be the most exasperating person +I ever saw.”</p> + +<p>“Yes?” Patty turned over the pages and suddenly +the color rushed to her face. She closed the +book hurriedly and went to the window. “Tea +does make one so warm,” she presently remarked. +Yet an irresistible force drew her back to the book. +Now that she was forewarned she could continue +her inspection, and she did so leisurely, beginning +back of the page which had so stirred her emotions +and inquiring who this or that one might be. +“Who is this?” finally she asked after a seemingly +indifferent glance at the drawing of a man in a +Norfolk jacket with golf stick in hand.</p> + +<p>“Oh, don’t you recognize that? It doesn’t speak +very well for my powers of portraiture. That is +Rob Lisle,” came the answer. “I did that the only +time I ever met him. He came down to the Moffatts’ +for the week’s end, and I was there at the +time.”</p> + +<p>“O, yes, I believe I do recognize it,” said Patty +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_261"></span> +lightly, as she handed the book to her sister. “It +isn’t bad, is it, Tina?”</p> + +<p>Doña Martina took the book and gazed at the +figure. Miss Brainerd had caught a characteristic +pose and an expression as well. “It is really +quite like,” she declared, then looking up she read +an appealing look in Patty’s eyes, a look she could +not stand. “Do you care for it, Miss Brainerd? +I mean would you spare it? I’d really like to have +a drawing of yours and you know we agreed to +exchange sometime.”</p> + +<p>“Fancy your liking it. I have later things that +are much better,” returned Miss Brainerd.</p> + +<p>“Well, you see it has the double advantage of +being your work and of being the portrait of a +friend, one might really say a connection. You +may choose from any of these in exchange;” and +she opened a portfolio of her own water-colors.</p> + +<p>“I’m decidedly getting the best of the bargain,” +maintained Miss Brainerd, turning over the sheets +before her.</p> + +<p>“If you feel that way about it, I surely don’t,” +return Doña Martina lightly. “Then I may cut +this out? Patty, there is a penknife on my desk +yonder.”</p> + +<p>Patty brought the knife, as she did so stooping +to give her sister’s shoulder a loving pat. “Darling,” +she whispered.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="page_262"></span> +Doña Martina smiled a response. She knew +what it would mean to the girl to possess the little +sketch, and at the same time she could but regret +a little her own impetuosity in securing it. However, +she did not hesitate to hand the drawing to +Patty after Miss Brainerd had gone and she received +such thanks as robbed her of all regrets in +the matter.</p> + +<p>The little picture was a great comfort to its possessor. +Somehow it seemed to bring Robert +nearer to her; Africa did not appear such an unreal +place with those eyes looking straight out at her +below the level brows. Clear blue eyes they were, +steadfast and honest. “I don’t believe it will be +Miss Moffatt,” Patty soothed her fears by saying, +“and if it is ever anyone else it will not be for +some time.” So she took heart of grace and pinned +the picture on her wall, where it performed the +office of consoler during many days to come.</p> + +<p>Of Perdita they never heard. Behind convent +walls she was kept strictly and, as was expected, +was allowed no intercourse with her friends. Paulette +came up for her wedding trip, serene and +triumphant in new clothes, and very self-satisfied +with her big stupid husband, who could stand, smile, +and admire, if he could do nothing else. The wedding +being over the next matter of interest was +the home, and of this Paulette chattered continually, +till all were rather relieved when the two departed. +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_263"></span> +There were a few days given to the sisters in the +convent where Patty had spent her two years and +where she as visitor was made much of by Sister +Cecile and the rest. The peace of it all went to +Patty’s heart, and she came back to alarm her sister +by saying that she would like to be a nun, though +credit must be given to Miss Brainerd’s sketch for +quickly shattering that dream and after twenty-four +hours no more was said of it.</p> + +<p>So the winter days passed, not unpleasantly, and, +at times, even gayly, while each day brought more +buoyancy to the girl’s heart and newer hope to her +future. Possibilities loomed up grandly at times, +and imagination carried her across seas to a meeting +which some day might take place.</p> + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + + +<div class="chapter"> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_264"></span> +<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_XIX">CHAPTER <abbr title="Nineteen">XIX</abbr></h2> + +<h3>DON FELIPE’S SURPRISE</h3></div> + + +<p>Spring in Paris, flower-girls on the corners, +trees bursting into leaf in the parks re-created that +longing which comes to young hearts who suffer, +and coming in one day with her hands full of spring +blossoms, Patty said, “Aren’t we going back, Tina? +Think how lovely it would be to see the apple-trees +in bloom, to watch the spring green creeping over +the mountains. If we can’t be in Kentucky, can’t +we be in Asturias?”</p> + +<p>“Juan was saying the same thing to-day. Do +you really want to go? Doesn’t Paris satisfy +you?”</p> + +<p>“Oh, no, it never could. You know I came only +under protest, although I have liked it, and I am +sure it has been better for me to be here, but I want +to see Guido and the pigeons and all the dear +warm-hearted people, even Don Felipe I wouldn’t +mind seeing, and I am sure there will be much to +talk about when we have been taken to the <i>palacio</i> +to see what has been going on in the way of alterations. +I wish Tomás could be with us,” she added +after a pause.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="page_265"></span> +“Poor boy, no doubt he wishes so, too. Have +you heard from him to-day, Patty?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, and he says my Spanish is improving. It +was a good suggestion of yours that we should +correspond, for I am sure it has helped me with the +language, besides giving me something to do. I +shall be very glib this time. Tomás can write +quite a respectable letter in English, and sometimes +almost clever ones. I really look forward to getting +them.”</p> + +<p>Her sister smiled. Spring was returning and +should not joy come to life? When Tomás came +back who knew what might happen? Maybe they +would all go out to Mexico before the two years +were over, and propinquity was such a factor in +matters of the heart.</p> + +<p>“What are you looking so pleased about?” asked +Patty.</p> + +<p>“Was I looking pleased? I was thinking about +the letter, about Tomás and his English, and of the +two or three words which were all he knew when +we first met. Well, dearie, I am sure Juan will be +only too glad to get back to his native heath. He +can work better there, he says, and I am sure this +book of his ought to be finished before fall. It has +been hanging fire too long, and I know he will not +object to the quiet of the country.”</p> + +<p>Patty went to her room and began cheerfully to +gather up some of her belongings to take away with +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_266"></span> +her. She even sang a little tune to herself, and +was glad, glad to think of the long <i>carretera</i>, of the +purple mountains and blue skies of Spain, even of +the creaking cow-carts and the lusty calls of the +<i>vaqueros</i>. It would be good to see little gray +Guido and to hear his blatant braying, to see +Manuela’s welcoming smile, and to receive Don +Felipe’s stale compliments would not seem hard. +She wondered if the drops of wax from the candle +before St. Anthony still remained as they had fallen +that day so long ago, and if the winter rains had +found their way through the roof of the old chapel.</p> + +<p>All these things were discovered to be quite as +she had left them when, a week later, she arrived +with her sister and brother. “In Spain, at least, +one is spared many changes,” she remarked to her +sister, as she leaned over the balcony and dropped +crumbs to the pigeons. “There are a few more +pigeons, and the vines have climbed a little higher. +I suppose Don Felipe will not have changed a tooth, +nor have altered a hair. He will be coming as soon +as he knows we are here.”</p> + +<p>But no Don Felipe ever came riding that way +again, for the day after their arrival Don Juan appeared +with a grave face. “I have heard sad reports +of our friend, Don Felipe,” he informed his +wife and sister. “He is seriously ill.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, dear, I am so sorry.” Patty spoke with +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_267"></span> +genuine concern. “I really looked forward to his +coming to-day.”</p> + +<p>“I fear he will never come again,” said Don Juan.</p> + +<p>“Is it as bad as that?” questioned his wife.</p> + +<p>“It is very serious. He is in a state of coma and +has been for some hours.”</p> + +<p>The next day the great <i>palacio</i> of Felipe Velasco +had lost its owner. The work was left unfinished +where the men had been busy restoring the old +rooms. The stuffs of rose and gold and crimson +lay untouched, for the flowers which had climbed +to window and balcony peeped in to see a still form +lying with candles at head and feet.</p> + +<p>“And Perdita?” said Patty, looking at her sister, +when Don Juan, who had brought the news, left +them alone. “What of Perdita and Tomás?”</p> + +<p>“We can’t face that yet, Patty, dear.” Her +sister shook her head sadly.</p> + +<p>“But couldn’t I write to Tomás. It takes so long +for a letter to reach him.”</p> + +<p>“Wait a little and we shall be able to decide. It +is a hard problem, dear, and we cannot hurry with +it. Juan is too troubled over this loss of his friend +to discuss anything else at present.”</p> + +<p>So Patty was obliged to give in, though she +yearned to tell the news. She felt really sorry that +the old don had gone from them. She would miss +seeing his coach driving up the road; she would +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_268"></span> +miss, too, the sound of his cackling laugh over some +joke of hers or her brother’s. She wondered who +would live in the big house. She understood there +were no very near relatives and she supposed the +place would be shut up or occupied by strangers. +“Poor old Don Felipe,” she sighed, “after all he +didn’t get the thing he expected; who does in this +world?”</p> + +<p>“Ave Maria,” said Manuela, who had come in, +“but it will be a fine funeral.” She crossed herself +devoutly. “God rest his soul, but he was a great +man, little as he was in stature. Shall you go, +señorita?”</p> + +<p>“My brother and sister will, of course, and perhaps +I may, too.”</p> + +<p>“It will not pass here,” continued Manuela. +“You have not heard, perhaps, who will take the +<i>oblada</i>.”</p> + +<p>“And what is that?” asked Patty curiously.</p> + +<p>“Oh, surely you must know, señorita. It is the +offering of meat and drink.”</p> + +<p>“And what is done with it?”</p> + +<p>“It is taken to the priest after the true funeral +when the mass is said. Sometimes the branches +are planted, but the corn never, for it would not +grow.”</p> + +<p>Patty looked inquiringly.</p> + +<p>“You do not know what is in the <i>macona</i>, perhaps, +señorita. Under the cloth are two bottles of +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_269"></span> +wine and the corn; the branches are plain enough.”</p> + +<p>Then Patty remembered to have seen in the +funeral processions a woman walking directly behind +the bier and carrying a <i>macona</i>, or round +basket, covered with a white cloth. Always a +green branch stood out each side of the basket, and +the two hornlike protuberances under the cloth were +the bottles of wine.</p> + +<p>“There will be meat, too, no doubt, in the <i>macona</i> +on the day of Don Felipe’s funeral,” went on +Manuela.</p> + +<p>“And the corn; you said it would not grow, +Manuela. Why?”</p> + +<p>The woman shook her head. “No one knows, +señorita, but it is well known that the corn of an +<i>oblada</i> never comes up if planted.”</p> + +<p>The next day Patty had a chance to observe the +<i>oblada</i> at the funeral of the old hidalgo, but it received +little of her attention, for, to the surprise of +all present, a young woman shrouded in black was +the chief mourner. “It is Perdita,” whispered +Patty to her sister. “I cannot be mistaken,” and +her conjectures occupied more of her thoughts than +the intoning of the priest. Had Don Felipe married +the girl after all? He must have done so +secretly and have then sent her back to the convent +to complete her studies; there was no other explanation. +It was well Patty had not written the letter +to Tomás, as she had at first been eager to do, for +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_270"></span> +she could not have given all the surprising news. +Her thoughts ran on during all the rest of the +service, and at last when she came away it was with +a determination to hunt up Perdita the next day.</p> + +<p>This she attempted to do, but no Perdita was at +the little farmstead, neither was old Catalina there, +and those who were either could not or would not +tell of their whereabouts.</p> + +<p>The following day, however, a servant came with +a note, only a few lines for Patty. Could she come +on a certain day and hour if she were sent for? +The note was signed, “Perdita.” There was no +hesitancy in Patty’s acceptance and she waited +impatiently for the message. It came with the +arrival from the <i>palacio</i> of Don Felipe’s coach, +which had been sent for the Señorita Patty.</p> + +<p>“Now we shall know all about it,” said Doña +Martina with satisfaction, as she parted from her +sister. “I shall be eager to hear what you have to +tell, Patty, so don’t stay any longer than you can +help.” Patty promised and drove away in state.</p> + +<p>As she was taken up the long avenue her +thoughts flew back to a year prior to this, when she +had first entered the place and had been greeted so +ceremoniously by its owner. What changes in a +year. Now it was Perdita who stood at the head +of the steps. Not the peasant girl, Perdita, but a +tall queenly lady in deep mourning, who greeted her +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_271"></span> +warmly, but with the manner of one who receives +an equal.</p> + +<p>Work on the various rooms had been arrested, +but the restoration in most was carried so far as to +give a different aspect to the place, a fact of which +Patty was rather glad. Through a long suite of +apartments Perdita led her friend. In one of the +rooms was sitting old Catalina with still the peasant’s +black handkerchief tied over her head. +“Grandmother, this is the señorita Pattee, whom +you will remember,” said Perdita.</p> + +<p>Patty stopped for a moment to greet the old +woman and then was ushered into the next room, +the door was closed and she was alone with—Doña +Perdita Velasco de Gonzalez, was it?</p> + +<p>The room was one of the suite which Patty remembered +Don Felipe had set aside for the use of +“my young lady,” as he always said in referring to +her, and was the one which Patty had suggested +should be upholstered in rose-color. The walls and +floors were finished, the former in French style with +garlands of roses, the latter of polished wood was +covered with Persian rugs in soft dull tints. The +old furniture remained and the black rafters.</p> + +<p>Perdita drew Patty to a seat by the window which +overlooked stretches of mountain pasture. “Are +you surprised to see me here?” she asked.</p> + +<p>“Not altogether,” admitted Patty. “Not after +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_272"></span> +seeing you at the funeral. Of course, Perdita, we +were surprised then, for though we knew you would +eventually be married we did not know that you +were already Doña Perdita Velasco de Gonzalez.”</p> + +<p>A mysterious smile came to Perdita’s lips. “I +am not married,” she said, “but I am the señorita +Perdita Velasco de Gonzalez.”</p> + +<p>“What do you mean?” asked Patty, in bewilderment, +differences of Spanish titles being as yet a +little unfamiliar to her.</p> + +<p>“I mean,” said Perdita, “that Don Felipe was my +father.”</p> + +<p>“Perdita!” Patty nearly jumped from her seat in +surprise. “How long have you known this?”</p> + +<p>“Only for a very few days. I was hurriedly sent +for to return home. The sisters hastened me off, +one of them came with me. I went to my grandmother +who was much agitated. ‘Your father is +very ill,’ she said. ‘You must remain here with me +till we see what happens.’ The next day Don +Felipe died. He was unconscious and I did not see +him, for which I am very sorry. My grandmother +then told me.”</p> + +<p>“But she had said your father’s name was Pedro +Ramon.”</p> + +<p>“She was right; his name was Don Pedro Felipe +Ramon Velasco. She was afraid he might not acknowledge +me, but yesterday the lawyer opened the +will and he has left nearly all he possessed to me, +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_273"></span> +his daughter, Perdita. There are some bequests +to the church and to one or two friends. I will tell +you of these later; but I am his acknowledged +daughter and heiress.” She threw up her head +proudly, then her eyes softened and she stretched +out her hands. “Tell me of Tomás, and will they +object now?”</p> + +<p>“Oh, Perdita, how could they? Oh, my dear, I +am so glad for you, so very glad. And after all, +Don Felipe was laughing in his sleeve while he prepared +his surprise. He admitted it was you for +whom he was getting his house ready, and he asked +us to keep it a secret which of course we did. I remember +now that he never referred to you as anything +but ‘<i>mia señorita</i>.’ How clever he was to +fool us all, poor old Don Felipe.”</p> + +<p>Perdita sighed. “I am sorry he did not live long +enough for me to give him a daughter’s affection, +yet, my dear friend, I believe if it had not been for +you I might never have come to this estate, for do +you remember that time you dressed me up and he +seemed so aghast at my appearance?”</p> + +<p>“Indeed, I remember well, and we thought it an +old man’s admiration for a beautiful girl.”</p> + +<p>“It was more than that; it was because I appeared +to him as a vision of my mother whom they say I +am very like. He truly loved her and carried +her miniature with him to the day of his death. I +will show it to you and you can see my resemblance +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_274"></span> +to her. Would you like to hear how he came to +marry her?”</p> + +<p>“I would indeed.”</p> + +<p>“She was a peasant girl such as I was, and one +day he came to my grandmother’s home, being belated +by a storm and his horse having gone lame. +They took him in and my mother served him with +the best the house could afford. Don Felipe was +even then an elderly man, fifty or more, but he was +much overcome by my mother’s looks, her sweetness +and modesty. He came again and again, always +with some excuse. There was a young man +who wished to marry my mother and when Don +Felipe found this out he was wild with jealousy. +No one had ever thwarted him and he was bound to +possess a girl so lovely as my mother. He went to +my grandmother and told her if she would consent +to a secret marriage that he would take her and her +daughter to Paris and marry my mother there; +that he would always love her and be kind to her, +but he could not bring himself to acknowledge her +openly. If my grandmother swore never to disclose +the secret while he lived he would see that she always +had enough and to spare. It was not difficult +to persuade my grandmother who saw comfort for +the rest of her days and who could see only advantage +in honorable marriage with so great a man, so +she spoke to my mother, who it seems had no great +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_275"></span> +fancy for anyone else, and who was really impressed +by the favor of Don Felipe. So to Paris +they went and were married. My grandmother +went with them and after the ceremony was safely +over she came back home telling her neighbors that +my mother was married to one Pierre Raymond +and was living in Paris, so no more was thought of +it. My mother and father lived in Paris a year and +my grandmother said it was Don Felipe’s pleasure +to dress up his wife and admire her in her fine +clothes, so that no wonder he was so overcome when +he saw me. At the end of a year my mother died in +giving birth to me. My father was wild with grief +and refused to even look at me at first, and told my +grandmother to take me away and never let him +see me again, so she took me home with her and I +was brought up as you know in the little <i>pueblo</i> on +the mountain.”</p> + +<p>“And he never saw you in all those years?”</p> + +<p>“Not to know me. My grandmother grew very +fond of me, and was afraid when I grew older that +he might change his mind and take me from her, so +she never let him know I was the daughter on the +rare occasions when she did see him, but led him to +believe I was at a convent school, for the expense +of which he paid. The money he gave her for this +she kept for my dowry, she says, for she feared he +would leave all his wealth to the church and she +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_276"></span> +thought it but right that I should have whatever +she could save from what he allowed for my support.”</p> + +<p>“What a romantic story,” Patty commented. “I +never expected to meet a heroine who might have +come out of a book. I do not see, however, why +your father did not recognize you sooner.”</p> + +<p>“He was very strong in his opinions, as you may +remember, and as my grandmother tells me. He +never tried to see me and never came near me in all +those twenty years. My grandmother thinks he +was afraid to become fond of me lest I, too, should +be taken from him and so he resolved it would be +better not to permit me to enter his life. Yet, after +he did see me dressed like a lady it seemed to him, +so he told my grandmother, as if my mother had +come back and as if it were she whom he was neglecting. +Then he resolved to recognize me openly. +He was very angry when he found out that I had +not been sent to the convent school where he supposed +me to be all that time, and he charged my +grandmother with having grossly deceived him by +pretending it was a child of my mother’s brother +who was living with her. He said it was a disgrace +that she should have allowed his daughter to work +in the fields and my grandmother told him it was +no more of a disgrace than that he should have neglected +me for twenty years; so they had it. And at +last it was agreed that I should be sent to school +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_277"></span> +and learn to do as a lady should, so that when he +took me home to him I need not make him ashamed +of me. Have I improved, Patty? I have tried +hard.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, Perdita, I think you were naturally a lady, +for blood will tell, yet I can see that you are more +at ease; you have more <i lang="fr">savoir faire</i>, and you speak +less like a child.”</p> + +<p>“My father said in his will that, in case of his +death, he wished the improvements to be carried on +as he had planned and therefore they are to be continued. +I am glad, so glad that you have come +back, for I should be lonely in this great house. +My old neighbors will be shy of me, but you have +always, always been good to me and have made a +comrade of me, so I have at least one friend of my +own station. And Tomás, you have not told me of +Tomás? Ah, Patty, for his sake I rejoice in all +this.”</p> + +<p>“He was well when we last heard, though poor +lad, he has been very homesick. Have you never +heard from him at all, Perdita?”</p> + +<p>“No, señorita,” the girl for a moment lapsed into +the old phrase; “I was not allowed to receive letters +at the convent, you remember.”</p> + +<p>“I do remember, for otherwise I should have written +to you myself.”</p> + +<p>“Do you think he will come back, Patty? Do +you think he will be the same? that he will not let +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_278"></span> +all this come between us? He was willing to take +me to his heart when he believed me poor and beneath +him, will he be too proud, now I am his +equal?”</p> + +<p>“Oh, Perdita, why should he when each has +proved to the other the sincerity of the love you +feel. Why do you not write to him yourself?”</p> + +<p>“Señorita, I am afraid. I cannot tell you why, +but I am. He may have changed and then how +pitiful to have offered myself to one who does not +care.”</p> + +<p>“I don’t believe he has changed in the least and I +shall write to him myself this very night.”</p> + +<p>“That is as the good friend you have always +been,” returned Perdita, gratefully.</p> + +<p>“Have you ever thought of the gipsy’s prediction, +Perdita?” Patty asked after a pause. “It has +come true, or very nearly so, in your case. It is +very strange, isn’t it? Quite uncanny, I think. +How could she have known?”</p> + +<p>“I asked the <i>cura</i> and he said it was not so +strange or mysterious as many other things. She +no doubt had noticed me in passing, and seeing me +in your company, thought that either I was dressed +below my station or was above it in reality. She, +too, had probably seen me with Tomás at some +time. They are very quick-witted, these gipsies, +and she may have perceived that we were interested +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_279"></span> +in one another, so it was easy to guess that I would +rise above a peasant life. As to the death, that +comes to all and it was no more than a chance hit. +She looked so hard at me that I think she saw by +my face when the prophecies came near the truth.”</p> + +<p>“No doubt that would explain much of it. As +for mine, well, I do not think there was much +mystery there, for it was easy to see I was not a +Spaniard and an <i>Inglesa</i> would have to cross water. +As for the rest—well, life is not over.”</p> + +<p>There was much more to talk about and the two +girls spent hours together, so that when Patty did +at last return home her sister had grown so impatient +at the long absence she could scarcely restrain +her curiosity till Patty was safely indoors.</p> + +<p>However, when Patty had told her tale her sister +exclaimed: “Well, I certainly don’t wonder +that you didn’t come home sooner. With such a +tale as that to gather up I can’t blame you. It is +like a thunderbolt from a clear sky. What a surprise +Don Felipe left us as a legacy. Juan will be +dumb with amazement.”</p> + +<p>“And Tomás?”</p> + +<p>“Ah, and Tomás. There goes my beautiful +castle for you two, my dear. Since he has done so +well out there in Mexico, I did hope you might yet +become fond of one another.”</p> + +<p>“We are fond of one another, and if I am not to +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_280"></span> +have your castle in Spain, Tomás will have a <i>palacio</i> +which is quite as good to have in the family, for of +course, now—”</p> + +<p>“Oh, of course, now—” responded her sister.</p> + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + + +<div class="chapter"><span class="pagenum" id="Page_281"></span> +<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_XX">CHAPTER <abbr title="Twenty">XX</abbr></h2> + +<h3>THE THREE WISHES</h3></div> + +<p>Patty’s letter to Tomás might as well have not +been written, for, several days before its arrival at +its destination, the young man was on his way home. +Don Felipe was too important an individual in his +community not to have much made of his death and +of the romantic and sensational appearance of a +hitherto unsuspected daughter, and because Tomás +received a weekly sheet printed in Llanes he learned +the surprising events before he was personally notified. +There was beyond this, another reason for +his sudden return as he was selected to go on a +business trip to his own country in the interests of +the firm by which he was employed. Heretofore +he had not seemed eager to respond to the suggestion, +but with the news of Don Felipe’s removal +from his path he felt he would move heaven and +earth in order to reach Perdita and at once made application +with so much enthusiasm in the undertaking, +that he was allowed to go at once to conduct +the business which would take him back to Spain.</p> + +<p>Meanwhile in the big <i>palacio</i> Perdita sat and +waited. Patty, who was fast recovering her old +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_282"></span> +spirits, spent much time with her, and her gay +laughter often enlivened the great rooms. Doña +Martina, too, went frequently. There had been a +call of state when Don Juan and his wife formally +accepted Perdita as their brother’s betrothed, and +now there was nothing to do but to have patience. +Don Felipe had added another surprise, to his first, +in a legacy to Don Juan of all his fine old reliquaries +and medals, and to Patty he left a case of antique +jewelry “in gratitude for her friendship to my +daughter”; to this was added the sum of one hundred +<i>pesetas</i> for the purchase of a donkey, “when +Guido shall no longer be of use.” So did Don +Felipe have his little joke at the last and Patty could +fancy the dry chuckle which might accompany the +writing of this clause.</p> + +<p>The day of San Juan came and went, but there +were no flowery boughs set by Patty’s window this +year, nor was much made of the day except by Don +Juan’s patients who brought their offerings as before; +among these was a handsome gift of silver +from Perdita in “grateful memory of Don Juan’s +many kindnesses to herself and her family.” It was +Perdita’s first act as <i lang="fr">grand dame</i>, and that she enjoyed +it no one doubted. There was no <i>fiesta</i> this +year, and the song of San Juan was not heard approaching +nearer and nearer till it ended at the +door.</p> + +<p>June days had nearly come to a close when Patty +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_283"></span> +one afternoon started up the road alone. She had +seen Perdita the day before when they had discussed +frescoes and upholstery. The workmen +had returned and Perdita was busy giving orders +and seeing to the carrying out of her father’s plans. +She had developed a great deal of ability in the +management of affairs and seemed much older. +The nuns had not wasted their time, for in place of +the childish peasant girl was a self-poised, efficient +woman.</p> + +<p>“I do miss the little peasant,” Patty said to herself, +“yet I feel more as if I had a friend who stood +on an equal footing. Tomás will find there is no +condescension on his part.” She smiled. “I’d +like to see the meeting.” She strolled slowly along +the road. Here was the spot where she had seen +the beggar beating his donkey. Poor old Don +Felipe, how indignant she had been with him that +day, and from the moment when Robert had come +forward so generously she believed dated her +warmer feeling for him. She drew a long sigh. +“I suppose patience is an excellent virtue, but, oh +dear, I wonder if it is doing any good to exercise it. +Where is he? Where is he? Why doesn’t he +come back? What should he come back for unless +he knows, and how can he know? I suppose there +are people who would defy fate and would do something +to set the current moving. What could I do? +Let me see. I could write to Alice Brainerd and +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_284"></span> +tell her Perdita’s story, laying stress on the fact +that she is to marry Tomás, and I could say that if +she ever happened to meet Robert Lisle to tell him +the tale because he would be interested, since he +knew them both. I could do that without the least +compromising myself. Then I could write to +Aunt Mag, not to Uncle Henry, men never attach +much importance to such things, but I could write +to Aunt Mag and tell her the same thing. I think +I will do it. He said he would some time go back to +his old home and to his relatives in Kentucky. Oh, +if we could only go, could only be there when he is. +Maybe if I fixed my mind on it something will happen; +it must, it must. I will make it happen, I will +tell Tina I must go back to Kentucky, to Uncle +Henry’s to stay till I can find out something. How +can one care so much for a person whom one, after +all, has known such a short time? But that is the +way these things come; out of the sky, or they grow +up over night.”</p> + +<p>She wandered on up the little road to the solitary +place where the Lady of Pity looked out from behind +her iron grating upon green boughs and rippling +stream. Within the shelter of the little porch +Patty found the old stone seat where they two had +sat that day when they had brought Guido to be +blessed. A year? was it less than a year ago? +Here they had seen Perdita on her knees. Well, +unless fate now cruelly intervened Perdita would +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_285"></span> +have her prayer granted. And the three wishes. +The <i>inxanos</i> had kept fatally silent. “They evidently +don’t understand English,” said Patty, with +a sudden smile. “I believe I will go around by the +sea caves,” she said, rising from the bench; “I told +Tina I might. It will be lovely there to-day.”</p> + +<p>She followed the paths across to the wooded way +which led to the <i lang="es">playa</i>. “I seem to be making a +sort of pilgrimage or <i lang="es">romeria</i> on my own account,” +her thoughts followed the same subject. “Here is +where I stumbled and he held my hand to steady +me. Oh, ‘what fools we mortals be!’ Why didn’t +I let him come home with me that night? Why +was I so contrary? I think I was afraid of myself. +I was scared at the thought of whither I was drifting. +I was beginning to realize.” She crossed +the wide stretch of pebbly shore and entered the +cave where the wishes had been hidden. The place +was well marked by a white seam in the rock. The +surgings of many wintry seas had long since penetrated +the crevices of the caves and she scarcely expected +to find any vestige of the papers, but they +had been carefully stowed away in a little hollow +and upon lifting the rock under which they had been +placed she found them, four bits of folded paper, +damp from the brine, but still whole. The one on +top she knew to be her own, for she remembered +that she had laughingly said hers would be the first +the <i lang="es">inxanos</i> would find. She took it up carefully +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_286"></span> +and opened it, standing there lost in pity for the +girl who had so cheaply thrown away the gifts +which the genii had brought. “That very night, if +I had stopped to consider, it might have come true, +at least part of it. I believe I will put it back with +his; I shall like to think of their being in company.”</p> + +<p>She went toward the crevice, but just as she was +about to tuck away her paper again there was a +crunch of the pebbles, then a footstep suddenly arrested. +She turned around.</p> + +<p>“Glad Lady!”</p> + +<p>The paper she held fluttered to the ground. The +color went from the girl’s cheeks. She could not +speak. The <i lang="es">inxanos</i> had been at work. Here was +the gift.</p> + +<p>The man took a step forward. “Glad Lady,” +said Robert, a second time.</p> + +<p>Her lips trembled. She was very near to tears +in the sudden rush of joy, but she gathered strength +to go forward. “I am a very glad lady,” she said, +“glad to see you. How did you find me?”</p> + +<p>“Your sister said you might be here.”</p> + +<p>“And where did you come from, South Africa? +We heard you had gone there.”</p> + +<p>“No, I have come from South America. My +plans were all made for South Africa, when they +were suddenly changed and I went to South +America instead. What were you doing here? +Waiting for the <i lang="es">inxanos</i>?” There was an exultant +vibrancy in his voice.</p> + +<div class="figcenter"> + <a id="i_286"></a> + <br> + <img src="images/i_286.jpg" + alt="Glad Lady"> + <p class="caption">“‘GLAD LADY!’”</p> +</div><!--end figcenter--> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_287"></span> + +<p>“Not exactly. I wanted to see if the wish papers +were still there.”</p> + +<p>“And were they?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, a little the worse for dampness. There is +mine.” She pointed to the paper lying at her feet.</p> + +<p>He picked it up and unfolded it. “May I?” he +asked with imploring eyes.</p> + +<p>Patty nodded and stood with drooping head while +he read:</p> + +<p>“The three wishes of Patience Blake, surnamed +Patty:</p> + +<p>“1—She wishes for a true and loyal lover whom +she can love with all her heart and soul.</p> + +<p>“2—She wishes she could go back to her old Kentucky +home to live.</p> + +<p>“3—She wishes that Perdita’s prayer may be +granted.”</p> + +<p>Robert came nearer and laid the paper on a projecting +ledge. “Glad Lady,” he said, “the first +part of your first wish has come true; he is before +you.”</p> + +<p>There should be no defying of fate, no wasted moments +this time, Patty quickly determined. She +held out her hands: “And the second part has +come true, too,” she answered.</p> + +<p>He clasped her hands and held them close against +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_288"></span> +his breast as if he would never let them go, and they +stood there looking into one another’s eyes till they +were brought back to a consciousness of where they +were by a laughing voice saying: “Shocking! +Awful badth form!” and looking up they beheld +Tomás at the entrance of the cave.</p> + +<p>“Tomás! Tomás!” Patty sprang forward to +meet him. “When did you come? What a surprise! +and are you two together?” She looked at +Robert. “Oh, how good this is.”</p> + +<p>“Yes, as chance would have it we crossed on the +same steamer,” Robert told her, “and instead of going +to England I came to Spain.”</p> + +<p>“And have you seen Perdita?” Patty turned to +Tomás.</p> + +<p>A little cloud of disappointment came over the +young man’s face. “Not yet,” he acknowledged. +“She has gone to Llanes and will not return till +evening, I discovered. Martina thought we might +find you here so Don Roberto searched the caves +while I climbed around outside.”</p> + +<p>“It does me good to see you again. Ah, Tomás, +there will be no returning for you now, I think.”</p> + +<p>“I do not know; I am no match for the wealthy +daughter of Don Felipe,” he answered modestly.</p> + +<p>“Oh, but wealth is nothing; it should never come +in the way of happiness, and true love should not +stand at so poor a thing as money.”</p> + +<p>Robert’s hand stole out and found hers to give it +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_289"></span> +a tender clasp, and in the semi-darkness of the cave +with no one but Tomás to see, she did not in the +least mind. Good Tomás, however, appreciated +the fact that this was a time when he might well be +absent and making the excuse that he had not yet +seen his brother, he left them to come home alone.</p> + +<p>“And were you really on your way to England?” +Patty asked her lover.</p> + +<p>“Yes, beloved.”</p> + +<p>“And would you have made up with your grandfather +and have married Miss Moffatt?”</p> + +<p>For an answer he caught her in his arms and +kissed her lips, her eyes, her hair. “Don’t, don’t,” +he cried. “When I think that it might have been +so, that I might have lost you by so slight a chance +I am nearly mad.”</p> + +<p>Patty gave a long sigh and nestled closer. “But +you haven’t lost me and I haven’t lost you. Isn’t it +wonderful? Were you unhappy? Tell me.”</p> + +<p>“Heaven knows there was never one more +wretched than I who cursed the day I landed in +Spain, and when I shook its dust from my feet I +said I would never touch its shores again.”</p> + +<p>“And was it Tomás who urged you to come +back?”</p> + +<p>“It was he who gave me hope. I told him I had +heard he was open to congratulations and he +thought I meant Perdita, so he told me the whole +story, then I knew that neither he nor Don Felipe +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_290"></span> +stood in my path and I thought maybe there would +be a chance to win you if I came back.”</p> + +<p>Patty drew herself away. “And I flew right to +you. I didn’t give you a chance to try. But I, too, +have been so unhappy. Oh, why did you go right +off that day? Oh, you don’t know how unhappy I +was when I knew you had gone.”</p> + +<p>He gathered her to him again. “Darling girl, to +think you should have been made unhappy is the +worst part of it, but your dear sister in all innocence +gave me to believe that all was settled between +you and Tomás, and my own doubts and +fears helped the conclusion. You were so ready to +make excuses not to see me that morning, so chary +of letting me believe that I had the least place in +your regard that I could only determine to find out +from your sister what I could, and if the fates were +against me to go, and go quickly.”</p> + +<p>“And was it Tomás who told you how it was +Tina thought as she did? I was a silly little goose +to tease her so, and to behave like such a witch of +contrariness. Yet,” she said, after a pause, “I +think it has done me good; I don’t believe I am quite +such a harum-scarum as I was. What did Tina +say when she saw you?”</p> + +<p>“She welcomed me right royally, and as if to +make amends for having so misled me she did insinuate +that she thought you would be very glad to +see me if I were to hunt you up. Were you glad?”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="page_291"></span> +“Did I look particularly annoyed? I was the +gladdest of glad ladies ever was. But you are becoming +entirely too inquisitive. We must go back +and tell Tina that the first wish has come true. But +first you must show me your wishes.”</p> + +<p>A second piece of paper was drawn from the hollow +and handed over for Patty’s scrutiny. It read +thus:</p> + +<p>“I, Robert Lisle, ask that the kind <i lang="es">inxanos</i> grant +me:</p> + +<p>“1—The love of Patience Blake;</p> + +<p>“2—A return to the land we both love;</p> + +<p>“3—Such success as may make me able to give +ease, comfort, and happiness to said Patience Blake +when she shall be my wife.”</p> + +<p>“Shall we put them back?” Patty asked, as with +tender eyes she looked up from the reading.</p> + +<p>“I should like you to give me yours.”</p> + +<p>“And I am simply crazy to keep yours.”</p> + +<p>“Then why not?”</p> + +<p>“Why not indeed? Abracadabra! Appear, +<i lang="es">inxanos</i>! Whether visible or invisible to us, accept +our thanks, and we’ll keep the papers, please. +Do you hear any underground murmurs or see a +cloud of smoke?” She turned to Robert.</p> + +<p>“No, but no doubt they heard.”</p> + +<p>“Then we’ll go.”</p> + +<p>Back through the leafy road they walked, and if +they stopped at certain well-remembered points who +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_292"></span> +can blame them? At the gate they parted, Robert +promising to return later when he had seen his luggage +safely carried to the <i lang="es">fonda</i>.</p> + +<p>Patty with dancing step ran upstairs to her sister. +“And what will you give me for my news?” +she asked.</p> + +<p>Doña Martina smiled. “Your news is written +on your face, my dear,” she replied. “There is no +need to tell it. And are you happy, little sister?”</p> + +<p>Patty knelt down and put her arms around the +other’s waist, looking up into her face with eyes all +alight. “I am just as happy as I was miserable. I +am so happy I am almost frightened.”</p> + +<p>“And what will you give for my news?” asked +Doña Martina, looking down and smoothing away +the dark locks with a gentle finger.</p> + +<p>“Have you news, too?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, and I think you will be happier still when +you know it, or I am much mistaken.”</p> + +<p>“Then tell it to me quick, although I am not sure +that I shall not fly out the window if more joy +comes.”</p> + +<p>“What would you say if I were to tell you that +Juan had accepted the offer to enter into partnership +with a medical friend of his, an elderly man +who will soon wish to retire and wants a younger +man to help him now with his practice, and that the +city where he lives is Cincinnati?”</p> + +<p>“Oh, Tina, so near our own Kentucky. Why, it +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_293"></span> +is almost like being in the same state. You could +really live in Kentucky if you wanted, I suppose.”</p> + +<p>“No, we must live in Cincinnati, for Dr. Vargas +wishes us to take up our home in his house. He is a +widower who has no family, and it seems as if it +might be the best thing to do. He was a friend of +Juan’s father and has always taken an interest in +him.”</p> + +<p>“It sounds very promising. I am glad for Juan, +and for you, too, dear.”</p> + +<p>“I hope we shall not be far apart, though I don’t +know what your Robert’s plans are.”</p> + +<p>“My Robert! Oh, Tina, how wonderful that +you can say that truly. I don’t know anything but +that he is my Robert.”</p> + +<p>Her sister laughed. “You impractical children! +And you have no idea whether he wishes to carry +you off to the wilds of South Africa or to the frozen +regions of Siberia, I suppose; it would be all the +same to you.”</p> + +<p>“Weren’t you just that way yourself, once upon a +time?”</p> + +<p>“Oh, yes, my dear, I admit it, and I acknowledge +that even now that I am a prosy old married woman +I would follow my leader to the ends of the earth.”</p> + +<p>“Then don’t say a word about my being impractical. +You can go and ask Robert anything you +choose and be perfectly sure that wherever he goes +it will be home to me.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="page_294"></span> +Her sister shook her head. “I never expected +you to go to such lengths, yet I might have known. +Well, my blessed child, I will satisfy my sisterly +curiosity on the subject, hoping he will not take you +utterly beyond my reach.”</p> + +<p>Tomás did not appear till the next day, though +Patty heard him stealing up the stairs after she had +gone to her own room, too happy to waste the blissful +hours in sleep. It was a radiant face which +met hers when she looked over her balcony after +having taken her morning coffee. “Well, Tomás,” +she said banteringly, “why do you look so woebegone? +I never saw such a dismal countenance. I +will come down and cheer you up, for I am sure you +need it.”</p> + +<p>Tomás laughed. “You look a gladth ladthy +yourself,” he said, waving his hand. “Come down, +come down and let us dance and sing together.”</p> + +<p>She ran down to the garden and held out her hand +to him. “Good morning, Tomás, it does seem like +old times to see you here. I am so glad to have you +back again, and how is Perdita?”</p> + +<p>“Well, so well, but not the leetle childth I left. +Is she not wondtherful as a grand ladthy?”</p> + +<p>“She truly is. And are you disappointed to find +her so?”</p> + +<p>“No, for the heart has not changed, the fine +golden heart of her, it is the same.”</p> + +<p>“And you are not thinking of leaving her again, +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_295"></span> +I hope. Let us go to the summer-house and have +one of our old talks, but oh, what a happy talk it will +be, Tomás, not like those last sorry ones.”</p> + +<p>The birds were twittering as of old in the +branches above the arbor, and the pigeons still +sought it in search of chance crumbs, when +the two took their old places. “No, I shall +not return,” said Tomás. “Perdita will need me, +she says, to help her look after these estates of +hers, and she say, why not I as well as a stranger? +She tell me she need me more as before.”</p> + +<p>“I think she does, and I am very glad you are to +stay.”</p> + +<p>“I am first to complete the business for which I +am leaving Mexico, and when is complete I am say +the gentlemans then, I resign myself the position +you so kindly make to me, for I wish not again +leave my country. I am remain here with my wife +eternally. Then I am no longer torturated with the +illness of home. I am happy with my Perdita, my +mountains, my sea.”</p> + +<p>“And when will you marry?”</p> + +<p>“As soon as is respectable after the losings of the +father of Perdita. She wish not I leave her to +trouble of lawyer and paper.”</p> + +<p>“And so the <i lang="es">palacio</i> will be ready for a bride after +all, but how glad I am, Tomás, that it will be your +bride and not Don Felipe’s.”</p> + +<p>“It is because of our friend Pattee that all is. +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_296"></span> +We have say many time how we bless you as one +who is angel.”</p> + +<p>“Glad Lady! Glad Lady,” a voice interrupted +them. “Oh, here you are in the old place. Don’t +leave us, Tomás. I will have a cigarette with you. +Good morning, you two, and what are you plotting +now? I suppose I may conjecture that the talk has +been on the same old subject,” said Robert, sitting +down by Patty’s side.</p> + +<p>“The subject is the same, but you should see +Tomás’s fiancée now; she is more beautiful than +ever,” Patty told him.</p> + +<p>“I shall see her soon I hope. Well, little girl, I +have been under a fire of questions from Doña Martina. +Must you go, Tomás, to the <i lang="es">palacio</i>? Ah, +well, we will not keep you. <i lang="es">Vaya V. con Dios.</i>” +He laid his hand over Patty’s and looked down at +her with a proud expression. “Beloved,” he said, +“your sister tells me I should let you know my plans, +that it is all very well to live in the clouds sometimes, +but one must descend once in a while, and so +I am sure you will be glad to know how I am going +back to Kentucky with you all.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, Robert, to live always?”</p> + +<p>“Always, I hope. Those mines in the West will +call me away for a time but I think I shall do well +to settle in the States and there is no reason why +we shouldn’t make Kentucky our home, even if we +must go away from it sometimes.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="page_297"></span> +“Ah, if it could be the dear home I left.”</p> + +<p>“Why not?”</p> + +<p>“Could it be? Half is mine, of course.”</p> + +<p>“And the other half can be mine, I hope, for your +sister and brother and I have been talking hard, +straight business, and that is how we settled it, if +the plan meets your approval.”</p> + +<p>“Bless the <i lang="es">inxanos</i>!” Patty cried. “They have +granted all our wishes.”</p> + +<p>He drew her close to him. Before their eyes +arose the vision of an old garden, green with box +hedges and rose sweet, along its borders they two +should walk till the setting of life’s sun.</p> + + +<p class="center"> +THE END +</p> + +<div class="chapter"> +<h4>Transcriber’s Note:</h4> + +<p>Words and phrases in italics are surrounded by underscores, _like +this_. Nine misspelled words were corrected. ‘I know’ was added +to the phrase “... all <a href="#chg1">I know</a> is you won’t have to live...” +Unprinted punctuation at ends of sentences and missing diacriticals +were added. Two excess commas and one duplicated word were deleted. +</p> +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div style='text-align:center'>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 76495 ***</div> +</body> +</html> + diff --git a/76495-h/images/colophon.jpg b/76495-h/images/colophon.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..f3134cd --- /dev/null +++ b/76495-h/images/colophon.jpg diff --git a/76495-h/images/cover.jpg b/76495-h/images/cover.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..513b80f --- /dev/null +++ b/76495-h/images/cover.jpg diff --git a/76495-h/images/i_001.jpg b/76495-h/images/i_001.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..ae2badb --- /dev/null +++ b/76495-h/images/i_001.jpg diff --git a/76495-h/images/i_032.jpg b/76495-h/images/i_032.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..5b6d748 --- /dev/null +++ b/76495-h/images/i_032.jpg diff --git a/76495-h/images/i_070.jpg b/76495-h/images/i_070.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..6d5de0c --- /dev/null +++ b/76495-h/images/i_070.jpg diff --git a/76495-h/images/i_086.jpg b/76495-h/images/i_086.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..9ee1519 --- /dev/null +++ b/76495-h/images/i_086.jpg diff --git a/76495-h/images/i_120.jpg b/76495-h/images/i_120.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..81788c5 --- /dev/null +++ b/76495-h/images/i_120.jpg diff --git a/76495-h/images/i_186.jpg b/76495-h/images/i_186.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..80fd0c5 --- /dev/null +++ b/76495-h/images/i_186.jpg diff --git a/76495-h/images/i_286.jpg b/76495-h/images/i_286.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..978d3e6 --- /dev/null +++ b/76495-h/images/i_286.jpg diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6312041 --- /dev/null +++ b/LICENSE.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11 @@ +This eBook, including all associated images, markup, improvements, +metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be +in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES. + +Procedures for determining public domain status are described in +the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org. + +No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in +jurisdictions other than the United States. 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