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Updated: May 12, 2025
Then she came back, with a sudden and somewhat bewildering accession of civility. "Addyoce," she said, bowing loftily toward the señora. The plume in her hat had turned in the afternoon breeze, and curved forward, giving her a slightly martial aspect. "Addyoce, Mr. Gonsallies. We're much obliged, ain't we, pappy? Addyoce." Ricardo touched his sombrero.
"You drop that, Parker Lowe!" she said, with dignity. "I ain't so far gone as all that. There's that Gonsallies felluh lookin' at us. You just straighten up, or I'll hit ye a cut with this whip!" Her lover gave a short, embarrassed laugh. "Oh, come now, Idy; Ricardo don't understand United States." "Well, I don't care whether he understands United States or not.
"How do you do?" she said, raising her voice still higher, and advancing toward the señora with outstretched hand. "I suppose you're Mrs. Gonsallies." The señora disentangled one arm slowly from her rebozo, and gave the newcomer a large, brown, cushiony hand. "This is my fawther," continued the girl, waving her left hand toward her companion; "sabby?"
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