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I should like to have him know I never cared a button about him; and that, if I didn't care for him, I should consider it more shameful to sell myself for his diamonds, than it would have been to have been sold for a slave by papa's creditors when I couldn't help myself. I am glad you don't feel like going into parties, Mamita; and if you ever do feel like it, I hope you will leave me at home.
"It is too soon." "Nonsense! The baby is two weeks old. Why, I ate fruit a week after childing. Look how dry her mouth is! It will do her good." She pared the orange and gave it to Benicia, who ate it gratefully. "It is very good, mamita. You will spoil me always, but that is because you are so good.
I did wrong to say we were all alone. We have always a Father in heaven, and he still spares us to love each other. Perhaps, too, our dear Papasito is watching over us. You know he used to tell us Mamita had become our guardian angel." Floracita kissed her, and pressed her hand in silence.
Delano, with polite regrets at having thus disturbed his pleasure, thanked him, and bade him good evening. She hurried after Flora, whom she found in her room, weeping bitterly. "Control your feelings, my child," said she. "You are perfectly safe here in Italy." "But if he saw me, it will make it so very unpleasant for you, Mamita."
What a fortune that girl will be! But I have promised ever so many people to tell them about the party; so I must bid you good by." When the door closed after her, Flora remarked, "I never heard of anybody but my Mamita who was named Eulalia." "Eulalia was a Spanish saint," responded Mrs. Delano; "and her name is so very musical that it would naturally please the ear of La Señorita."
I wish I could take her home." "I will send to inquire whether the lady will sell her," replied her friend. "O Mamita, you will spoil me, you indulge me so much," rejoined Flora. Mrs. Delano smiled affectionately, as she answered: "If you were very spoilable, dear, I think that would have been done already." "But it will be such a bother to take care of Manon," said Flora.
Without a trace of embarrassment the girl smiled and with a pretty little bending of her head, held down her hand to the astonished Banker, who sat speechless upon his mattress. Loto pushed forward. "That's mamita over there," he said, pointing. "Her name is Lylda; she's Aura's sister." The Banker recovered his wits. "Well, and who are you, little man?" he asked with a smile.
Delano's face was illuminated by a quiet smile. In the midst of the merriment, the door-bell rang. Flora started from the piano, seized her worsted-work, and said, "Now, Mamita, I'm ready to receive company like a pink of propriety." But the change was so sudden, that her eyes were still laughing when Mr.
No wonder my hair is white. But please ring for Rosa, dear. I want to arrange her pattern before dinner." "There's the door-bell again, Mamita!" exclaimed Flora; "and a very energetic ring it is, too. Perhaps you had better wait a minute." The servant came in to say that a person from the country wanted to speak with Mrs. Delano; and a tall, stout man, with a broad face, full of fun, soon entered.
She endeavored to conceal such feelings from her kind benefactress; but sometimes, if she was surprised in tears, she would say apologetically, "I love you dearly, Mamita Lila; but it is dreadful to be so far away from anybody that ever knew anything about the old times." "But you forget that I do know something about them, darling," replied Mrs. Delano.
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