"Selfish, thoughtless one that thou art to forget that sweet senora!"
she cried. And for punishment she pulled the lock of hair so that
it hurt--a little. "I shall ask Senor Hunter if he will not send the
carriage for her--and perhaps I shall go with him to bring her; though
truly she will never leave the big hombre who speaks so many words
over such slight matters. I am glad I did not yet carry Chico to live
there in that small camp. Till the house is finished, he shall stay
with me. Truly the storm would kill him if he were there. But perhaps
the storm will not be so great, after all--not so great as is the
storm in the hearts of those two who met and would have fought, had
I not so skillfully prevented it! Santa Maria, I truly must have been
inspired, to act like the dove with the branch of the olive when
I flew between them; and the eyes of Jose were blazing; and Senor
Jack--" There came the smile again, and the dawdling of the brush
while she thought of those two. So the pretty senora was forgotten,
after all, and left to shiver over her mending in the prairie schooner
because Teresita was a spoiled child with more hearts than it is good
for a girl to play with.
As a matter of fact, however, the pretty senora was quite accustomed
to discomfort in varying degrees, and gave less thought to the weather
than did the more tenderly sheltered women of the valley, so that no
harm came of the forgetfulness; especially since the storm fell far
short of Gustavo's expectations and caused that particular prophet the
inconvenience of searching his soul and the heavens for an explanation
of the sunshine that reprehensibly bathed the valley next day in its
soft glow.
Pages:
121
122
123
124
125
126
127
128
129
130
131
132
133
134
135
136
137
138
139
140
141
142
143
144
145