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"Well, my mother is satisfied, perhaps. She has driven him away. At least, I shall not have to go to the convent." "Thou art so cold, my little one," said Aunt Anastacia, disapprovingly. "Thou art but fifteen years, and yet thou throwest aside a lover as if he were an old reboso. Madre de Dios! In your place I should have wept and beaten the air.
Hast thou no place in it for Abel Hudson?" "In the sala, señor where many others are received with mamma and Aunt Anastacia sitting in the corner." He laughed. "Thou wilt always jest! But I would take all the rooms, and turn every one out, even to Doña Pomposa and Doña Anastacia!" "And leave me alone with you! God of my soul! How I should yawn!"
"Poor Jacoba!" exclaimed Doña Pomposa; "her stern heart is heavy this day. But she has such a sense of her duty, Anastacia. Only that makes her so stern." "O-h-h-h, y-e-e-s." When Aunt Anastacia was preoccupied or excited, these words came from her with a prolonged outgoing and indrawing. "I must ask her for the recipe for those cakes the lard ones, Anastacia. I have lost it." "O-h-h, y-e-e-s.
Even Don Roberto Duncan, a black silk handkerchief knotted about his head, was dashing, on his gray horse, up and down the valley between the hills and the willows, regardless of chance bullets. And over all shone the same old sun, indifferent alike to slaughter and pleasure. "Surely, Anastacia, all those bullets must shoot some one." "O h h, y e e s."
"Go downstairs and keep my mother there," commanded Eulogia, and Aunt Anastacia rolled off, whilst her niece with unwonted nervousness opened the letter. "Sweet of my soul! Day-star of my life! I dare not speak to thee of love because, strong man as I am, still am I a coward before those mocking eyes.
"No no!" cried the two older women, but in truth they were too terrified not to submit. Power swung himself mechanically over the wheel, and lay on the floor of the wagon. Eulogia, in spite of a protesting whimper from Aunt Anastacia, loosened that good dame's ample outer skirt and threw it over the fallen bandit.
The next day, when Don Tomas Garfias asked her hand of her mother, Doña Coquetta accepted him with a shrug of her shoulders. "And thou lovest me, Eulogia?" murmured the enraptured little dandy as Doña Pomposa and Aunt Anastacia good-naturedly discussed the composition of American pies. "No." "Ay! señorita! Why, then, dost thou marry me? No one compels thee." "It pleases me.
The next day Eulogia was sitting on her window-seat, her chin resting on her knees, a volume of Dumas beside her, when the door was cautiously opened and her Aunt Anastacia entered the room. Aunt Anastacia was very large; in fact she nearly filled the doorway; she also disdained whalebones and walked with a slight roll.
Thou didst not marry because thou hadst more sense than to trot about after a man. Is it not so, my old sack of flour? I was but angry because I thought thou hadst helped my mother last night." "Never! I was sound asleep." "I know, I know. Now trot away. I hear my mother coming," and Aunt Anastacia obediently left her niece to the more congenial company of the Señor Dumas.
To think that we have been petting the worst of them as if he were General Castro or Juan Alvarado. To think, my Eulogia! that thirsty wild-cat has had his arm about thy waist more times than I can count." "He danced very well aha!" Aunt Anastacia gurgled like an idiot. Doña Pomposa gave a terrific shriek, which Eulogia cut in two with her hand. A man had crawled out of the brush near them.
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