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To no one but her mother had Margarita unbosomed what she knew, and what she suspected; and old Marda, frightened at the bare pronouncing of such words, had terrified Margarita into the solemnest of promises never, under any circumstances whatever, to say such things to any other member of the family. Marda did not believe them. She could not.
At first you could not have been sure whether the sound was far or near, for she "covered" her tones, in a way that many a gorgio gives years and much silver to learn. Then the wonderful tone swelled out, as if an organ stop were being pulled open, and one by one, the four leaders cast in the dropping notes which followed and sustained the theme that Marda was weaving: "Lal la ai lala lalu!
"How is our little scholar?" she asked affectionately. "I am very well, Dora Parse, but a little tired," Marda answered. "And did you receive another paper?" "Yes. I passed my exams. It will save me half a year in Dover." "That is good," Dora Parse replied, although she had only the dimmest idea of what Marda meant. The young girl knew that.
"Do you know where Margarita is?" said Ramona. "In Father Salvierderra's room, or else in the kitchen helping Marda," replied the Senora, in a whisper. "I told her to help Marda with the peppers this morning." Ramona nodded, returned to the veranda, and sat down to decide on her course of action. Then she rose again, and going to Father Salvierderra's room, looked in.
"There's many a mile to the end of the road, my girl," said Marda, significantly; "and 'It's ill boasting the first day out, was a proverb when I was your age!" Marda had never been much more than half-way fond of this own child of hers. Their natures were antagonistic.
Her manner was certainly peculiar, the princess thought, as she walked away. But then one never knew what Marda was thinking about. Her great education set her apart from others.
The old man had hot blood in his veins yet, as the under-shepherds could testify. "The sight of your pretty face, Senorita Margarita," answered Juan quickly, cocking his eye at her, rising to his feet, and making a mock bow towards the window. "He! he! Senorita, indeed!" chuckled Margarita's mother, old Marda the cook.
God bless you, Senorita!" they cried; and closed up their ranks around the baby, touching her, praising her, handing her from one to another. Ramona stood for a few seconds watching them; then she said, "Give her to me, Marda. I will myself carry her into the house;" and she moved toward the inner door. "This way, dear; this way," cried Felipe.
And after the dining-room door was shut, and the unhappy pretence of a supper had begun, old Marda had herself crept softly to the Senorita's door and listened, and heard Ramona sobbing as if her heart would break. Then she knew that what Margarita had said must be true, and her faithful soul was in sore straits what to think. The Senorita misdemean herself! Never!
The coming of any guest into the house was a signal for unwonted activities there, even the coming of Father Salvierderra, who never knew whether the soup had force-meat balls in it or not, old Marda said; and that was to her the last extreme of indifference to good things of the flesh.
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