United States or Isle of Man ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
We are afraid they will spoil the furniture to-night; so tell one of the servants to cut a hundred pine slugs, and you go down to the store and buy a box of penknives. Then they will have plenty to amuse themselves with and will not cut the furniture." "True! True! What a good idea! Was it Benicia's?" He gave her a glance of languid adoration.
Benicia tossed her spirited head, but took her guitar from its case and called to the other girls to accompany her. They withdrew from their various flirtations with audible sighs, but it was Benicia's merienda, and in a moment a dozen white hands were sweeping the long notes from the strings. Russell moved to a lower rock, and lying at Benicia's feet looked upward.
"I much appreciate your friendship, Capitan Brotherton. You give me much advice that is good for me, and tell me many things. It is like the ocean wind when you have live long in the hot valley. Yes, dear friend, I forget you are in the navy of the conqueror." "Mamacita," broke in Benicia's light voice, "tell us now when we can have the peek-neek." "To-morrow night." "Surely?" "Surely, niñita."
Even Benicia's gay spirit was oppressed, and during the long ride homeward through the pine woods she had little to say to her equally silent companion. Doña Eustaquia seldom gave balls, but once a week she opened her salas to the more intellectual people of the town.
A thick India shawl hung over the window of Benicia's old room in her mother's house, shutting out the perfume of the hills. A carpet had been thrown on the floor, candles burned in the pretty gold candlesticks that had stood on the altar since Benicia's childhood.
"Thou knowest that I do not allow thee to walk with on the street," she said in Spanish. "But, mamacita, he is my husband. We were married this morning at Blandina's," Excitement had tuned Benicia's spirit to its accustomed pitch, and her eyes danced with mischief.
And then, in the whirl-waltz of that day, both lost their breath. When the dance was over and they stood near Doña Eustaquia, he took the fan from Benicia's hand and waved it slowly before her. She laughed outright. "You think I am so tired I no can fan myself?" she demanded. "How queer are these Americanos! Why, I have dance for three days and three nights and never estop." "Señorita!"
The new moon was on the sky, the stars thick and bright; but dark corners were everywhere, and he kept his hand on his pistol. He found himself before the long low house of Doña Eustaquia Ortega. Not a light glimmered; the shutters were of solid wood. He walked up and down, trying to guess which was Benicia's room.
She has not the braids like the other girls, but the hair, soft like black feathers, fall down to the feet. And the eyes like blue stars! You know the eyes of La Tulita. The lashes so long, and black like the hair. And the sparkle! No eyes ever sparkle like those. The eyes of Ysabel Herrera look like they want the world and never can get it. Benicia's, pobrecita, just dance like the child's.
But I am Eustaquia Ortega, and as I am make, so I do feel now. No judge too hard, my friend, and infelez de mi! do not forsake me." "I will never forsake you, Eustaquia." He rose suddenly. "I, too, am a lonely man, if not a hard one, and I recognize that cry of the soul's isolation." He left her and went up the hill to Benicia's little house, half hidden by the cypress trees that grew before it.
Word Of The Day