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The committee was composed of Carol, Vida Sherwin, Guy Pollock, Raymie Wutherspoon, and Juanita Haydock. They were exalted by the picture of themselves as being simultaneously business-like and artistic. They were entertained by Vida in the parlor of Mrs.
Kendric swung up into the saddle and for a moment curbed the big sorrel's dash toward the gates, to say meditatively to Juanita: "If I took that paper away from you and made a run for it, what then?" A look of fear leaped into the girl's dark eyes and she drew hastily back, clutching the paper to her breast. "Señor!" she cried, breathless and aghast. "You would not! She she would kill me!"
"Then you can tell him it. Perhaps it would come easier from you." Juanita blushed again. "Why?" she asked, half dreading his reply. "Because," said the American, quietly, "you are old playmates; you are attached to each other." Juanita bit her lips. "Why don't you read it yourself?" she asked bluntly. "Because I don't read other people's letters, and if it concerns me you'll tell me."
The Captain's words spread, and caused considerable excitement. On board the Barbara Lane were many gentlemen who had begun to be shamefaced over their panic, and these went in a body to the Captain and asked him to communicate with the 'Juanita'. Whereupon a certain number of whistles were sounded, and the Barbara's bows headed for the other side of the channel.
"By the way ..." said Sarrion, and followed her without completing his sentence. So Juanita and Evasio Mon were left alone on the terrace. Juanita was sitting rather upright in a garden chair. The only seat near to her was the easy chair just vacated by Cousin Peligros. Mon looked at it. He glanced at Juanita and then drew it forward.
I told him, as well as usual or not quite. Mamma had not got accustomed to the change yet. "And Daisy?" "I like it." The doctor took an ungratified survey of my countenance. "Don't you want to see some of your old friends?" "Friends? here? Who, Dr. Sandford?" "Old Juanita would like to see you." "Juanita!" said I. "Is she alive?" "You do not seem very glad of it?" I was not glad of anything.
"It was a little girl who belongs in the village, mamma." "How comes she to know you?" "It happened by accident partly, in the first place." "What accident?" "Mamma, I will tell you another time, if you will let me." For Daisy knew that Juanita was not far off. But Mrs. Randolph only said, "Tell me now." "Mamma it was partly an accident," Daisy repeated.
"My modder cannot read the language you speak," said Juanita, sullenly. "We will have the letter written in Spanish," promised Rhoda. "Write it to me," said the Mexican girl eagerly. "I must do all business for my modder. Yes. She do not know. She ees ver' poor. But if what Lobarto stole from us is r-recover-red, we shall be reech again. By goodness, yes!"
He paused as if he would have added that the Nautilus would have been more congenial, anyhow, then added, "We danced a little bit, all except Lucie. She said she wasn't feeling any too well." Edwards had paused by the door. "If you'll excuse me a minute," he said, "I'll call Jermyn and Mrs. Edwards' maid, Juanita. You ought to go over the whole thing immediately, Professor Kennedy."
He should have been a cockerel, so he could strut before fifty females, all his subjects. But really, his Don Juan does NOT interest me. I could play Dona Juanita a million times better than he plays Juan. He bores me, you know. His maleness bores me. Nothing is so boring, so inherently stupid and stupidly conceited.
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