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Updated: June 21, 2025
She was trembling violently; her face was wild and white. His own was ashen, and the heart beneath her arm beat rapidly. "I love you devotedly," he said. "You believe that, Chonita?" "Ah! Mother of God! do not! I cannot listen." "But you shall listen. Throw off your superstitions and come to me.
Valencia used every art of flashing eyes and pouting lips and gay sally there was nothing subtle in her methods to win Estenega to her side; but the sofa on which he sat with Chonita might have been the remotest star in the firmament. Then, prompted by pique and determination to find ointment for her wounded vanity, she suddenly opened her batteries upon Reinaldo.
The delighted shrieks of the people came over to us; at regular intervals cannons were fired. Estenega found himself seated between Chonita and Valencia. I was opposite, and beginning to feel profoundly fascinated by this drama developing before my eyes. I saw that he was amused by the situation and not in the least disconcerted. Valencia was nervous and eager.
Chonita, clad in a black gown, walked slowly up and down the corridor of Casa Grande. The rain should have dripped from the eaves, beaten with heavy monotony upon the hard clay of the court-yard, to accompany her mood, but it did not.
Doña Martina sat for a little time at the head of the table, her yellow gown almost hidden by the masses of hair which her small head could not support. Castro was on one side of her, Estenega on the other, Chonita by her arch-enemy.
Every woman's eye turned to her at once; she was our leader of fashion, and we all copied the gowns that came to her from the city of Mexico. But Chonita gave no heed to the Castros. She fixed her cold direct regard on the man who rode with them, and whom, she knew, must be Diego Estenega, for he was their guest.
"I shall always mend my stockings," said Prudencia, "I myself." "Yes," said one of the older women, "thou wilt be a good wife and waste nothing." Valencia laid her arm about Chonita's waist. "I wish to meet Don Diego Estenega," she said. "Wilt thou not present him to me?" "Thou art very forward," said Chonita, coldly. "Canst thou not wait until he comes thy way?"
"You never have been in Monterey before, señorita, I understand," said Estenega to Chonita. No situation could embarrass him. "No; once they thought to send me to the convent here, to Doña Concepcion Arguéllo, but it was so far, and my mother does not like to travel.
Pomegranate trees and sweet peas, bridal wreath and camellia, begonia, fuchsias, heliotrope, hydrangea, chrysanthemums, roses, roses, roses....Little orchards of almond trees, their blossoms a pink mist against a clear blue sky....The mariposa lily was awake in the forests; infinitesimal yellow pansies made a soft carpet for the feet of the deer and the puma....In the old Spanish towns of the south, the Castilian roses were in bloom and as sweet and pink and poignant as when Rezanov sailed through the Golden Gate in the April of eighteen-six, or Chonita Iturbi y Moncada, the doomswoman, danced on the hearts of men in Monterey....From end to end of the great Santa Clara Valley the fruit trees were in bloom, a hundred thousand acres and more of pure white blossoms or delicate pink.
Don Guillermo hobbled about delightedly, covered with tinsel and flour. Estenega had tried a dozen times to hit Chonita, but as if by instinct she faced him each time before the egg could leave his hand. Finally he pursued her down the corridor to her library, where I, fortunately, happened to be resting, and both threw themselves into chairs, breathless. "Let us stay here," he said.
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