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"I love an American? Oh, my mother! A great, big, yellow-haired bear! When I want only to laugh at their dancing! No, mamacita, when I love an American thou shalt have his ears for thy necklace."
Oh, mamacita! mamacita! darling! do, do let me go!" "Benicia! Thou wouldst meet those men? Válgame Dios! And thou art a child of mine!" She flung the girl from her, and walked rapidly up and down the room, Benicia following with her little white hands outstretched. "Dearest one, I know just how you feel about it! But think a moment. They have come to stay. They will never go.
Prudencia did not know whether to cry or not. Doña Trinidad, who never thought of replying to her daughter, said, "Chonita mia, Liseta and Tomaso wish to marry, and thy father will give them the little house by the creek." "Yes, mamacita?" said Chonita, absently: she felt no interest in the loves of the Indians.
Tom Mills, whose father was four times a millionaire, wondered why they never had such gay times at his home, and tried to fancy his sister Blanche sparkling and glowing and beaming over the prospect of earning twenty-five dollars a month. Then, when bedtime came, Polly and her mother talked it all over in the dark. "Oh, mamacita, I am so happy!
And one day I hope you will be as happy as your little daughter; for there are other good Americans in the world. No? mamma. I think Mamacita!"
"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.
I have n't seen anything so cosy and homelike for ages." "Then make yourself at home in it," said Mrs. Oliver, while Polly joined in with, "Is n't that a pretty fire in the grate? I 'll give you one rose-colored lamp with your firelight. Here, mamacita, is the rocker for you on one side; here, Edgar, is our one 'man's chair' for you on the other.
"Oh, holy night! the stars are brightly shining. It is the night of the dear Saviour's birth!" All was peaceful and homelike; if it would only last, thought Polly. "You are well to-night, mamacita." A look of repressed pain crossed Mrs. Oliver's face as she smoothed the bright head lying in her lap.
"Mamacita, darling," she said coaxingly, "I have a big favour to beg. Ay, an enormous one! How dare I ask it?" "Aha! What is it? I should like to know. I thought thy tenderness was a little anxious." "Ay, mamacita! Do not refuse me or it will break my heart. On Wednesday night Don Thomas Larkin gives a ball at his house to the officers of the American squadron.
Thou wert a baby thyself but yesterday, and thou art not much more to-day." "I feel perfectly well, my mother, and ay, Dios, so happy! Where is Edourdo?" "Of course! Always the husband! They are all alike! Hast thou not thy mother and thy baby?" "I adore you both, mamacita, but I want Edourdo. Where is he?" Her mother grimaced. "I suppose it is no use to protest.
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