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Updated: May 3, 2025
But at the first sound of her voice Felipa had started up: she too saw the look, and wrenching herself free from old Dominga's arms, she threw herself at Christine's feet. "Look at me so," she cried "me too: do not look at him. He has forgotten poor Felipa: he does not love her any more. But you do not forget, señora: you love me you love me. Say you do or I shall die!"
Drollo looked at us out of one eye solemnly from his uncomfortable position, as much as to say, "No use: leave her to me." So after a while we went away and left them there. That evening I heard a low knock at my door. "Come in," I said, and Felipa entered. I hardly knew her.
I tried several times to paint Felipa during these first weeks, but those eyes of hers always evaded me. They were, as I have said before, yellow that is, they were brown with yellow lights and they stared at you with the most inflexible openness. The child had the full-curved, half-open mouth of the tropics, and a low Greek forehead. "Why isn't she pretty?" I said.
"How can she run, lame as she is?" said Edward from the doorway. "You are not going away, are you? Tell me you are not," sobbed Felipa in a passion of tears, beating on the floor with one hand, and with the other clinging to Christine. "I am not going," said Edward. "Do not sob so, you poor little thing!"
"Get thee away with thy lover and the girl Selema. Felipa, the head chief of Fao, hath been told of thy beauty, and hath sent word here that the man Manaia must be killed to-night, and thou and Selema be sent to him. This is wrong for even a chief to do, and we of this place would aid thee to escape."
Then, a half-dressed, wild little phantom, she seized me by the skirts and dragged me toward the looking-glass. "You are not pretty either," she cried. "Look at yourself! look at yourself!" "I did not mean to laugh at you, Felipa," I said gently: "I would not laugh at any one; and it is true I am not pretty, as you say.
"You should not submit to her caprices so readily," I said the next day while strolling on the barren with Edward. "I adore the very ground her foot touches, Kitty." "I know it. But how will it end?" "I will tell you: some of these days I shall win her, and then she will adore me." Here Felipa came running after us, and Edward immediately challenged her to a race: a game of romps began.
"I do not understand you two." "And of course not, a third time," said Edward, looking down at me with a smile. "What do quiet, peaceful little artists know about war?" "Is it war?" "Something very like it, Kitty. What is that you are carrying?" "Oh! my new sketch. What do you think of it?" "Good, very good. Some little girl about here, I suppose?" "Why, it is Felipa!" "And who is Felipa?
"Yes, burned," replied Felipa composedly. "I carried them out on the barren and burned them. Drollo singed his paw. They burned quite nicely. But they are gone, and I am pretty now, and yet they did not take me! What shall I do?" "Take these colors and make me a picture," I suggested.
I looked around: there was my color-case rifled and empty, and the other articles were scattered on the ground. "Good Heavens, child!" I cried, "what have you eaten?" "Enough," replied Felipa gloomily. "I knew they were poisons: you told me so. And I let the snake stay." By this time the household, aroused by my hurried exit with the candle, came toward the arbor.
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