"My majordomo," replied Don Andres, his habitual courtesy just saving
the words from becoming a retort, "continues to show that rare good
sense which first attracted me to him."
The senora moved uneasily in her chair and smiled deprecatingly at Jack,
then imploringly at her husband. This was washing day, and those
shiftless ones within would overlook half the linen unless she was on
the spot to watch and direct. But these two had come to their first
clash of wills, and her husband had little liking for such firm defiance
of his wishes. Well she knew the little weather-signs in his face. When
his eyebrows took just that tilt, and when the nostrils were drawn in
and quivered with his breathing, then was it wise that she should remain
by his side. The senora knew well that words are never so harsh between
the male of our species when their women are beside them. So, suffering
mental torment because of the careless peonas, she, nevertheless, sent
Teresita after the fine, linen apron from which she meant to remove a
whole two inches of woof for the new pattern of drawnwork which the
Donna Lucia had sent her. She would remain as a buffer between these two
whose eyes were too hard when they looked at each other.
"It seems a pity that young men nowadays cannot contain themselves
without quarreling," sighed the senora, acting upon the theory that
anger is most dangerous when it is silent, and so giving the
conversational ball a push.
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