Remember the Alamo [17]
because only men of the
Spanish race are brave enough to fight bulls, and only Spanish
bulls are brave enough to fight men."
She was quite pleased with herself for this speech, and
finding no one inclined to dispute the statement, she went on
to describe a festival of bulls she had been present at in the
city of Mexico. The subject delighted her, and she grew
eloquent over it; and, conscious only of Isabel's shining eyes
and enthusiastic interest, she did not notice the air of
thoughtfulness which had settled over her husband's face, nor
yet Antonia's ill-disguised weariness and anxiety.
On the night of the Valdez's party her father had said he
would talk with her. Antonia was watching for the confidence,
but not with any great desire. Her heart and her
intelligence told her it would mean trouble, and she had that
natural feeling of youth which gladly postpones the evil day.
And while her father was silent she believed there were still
possibilities of escape from it. So she was not sorry
that he again went to his office in the city without any
special word for her. It was another day stolen from the
uncertain future, for the calm usage of the present, and she
was determined to make happiness in it.
When all was still in the afternoon Isabel came to her. She
would not put the child to the necessity of again asking her
help. She rose at once, and said:
"Sit here, Iza, until I have opened the door for us. Then she
took a rich silk kerchief, blue as the sky, in her hand, and
went to the wide, matted hall. There she found Rachela,
asleep on a cane lounge. Antonia woke her.
"Rachela, I wish to go into the garden for an hour."
The Senorita does the thing she wants to, Rachela would not
presume to interfere. The Senorita became an Americano in New
York."
"There are good things in New York, Rachela; for instance,
this kerchief."
"That is indeed magnificent!"
"If you permit my sister to walk in the garden with me, I
shall give it to you this moment."
"Dona Isabel is different. She is a Mexicaine. She must be
watched continually."
"For what reason? She is as innocent as an angel."
"Let her simply grow up, and you will see that she is not
innocent as the angels. Oh, indeed! I could say something
about last night! Dona Isabel has no vocation for a nun; but,
gracias a Dios! Rachela is not yet blind or deaf."
"Let the child go with me for an hour, Rachela. The kerchief
will be so becoming to you. There is not another in San
Antonio like it."
Rachela was past forty, but not yet past the age of coquetry.
"It will look gorgeous with my gold ear-rings, but--"
"I will give you also the blue satin bow like it, to wear at
your breast."
"Si, si! I will give the permission, Senorita--for your sake
alone. The kerchief and bow are a little thing to you. To
me, they will be a great adornment. You are not to leave the
garden, however, and for one hour's walk only, Senorita;
certainly there is time for no more."
"I will take care of Isabel; no harm shall come to her. You
may keep your eyes shut for one hour, Rachela, and you may
shut your ears also, and put your feet on the couch and let
them rest. I will watch Isabel carefully, be sure of that."
"The child is very clever, and she has a lover already, I
fear. Keep your eyes on the myrtle hedge that skirts the
road. I have to say this--it is not for nothing she wants to
walk with you this afternoon. She would be better fast
asleep."
In a few moments the kerchief and the bow were safely folded
in the capacious pocket of Rachela's apron, and Isabel and
Antonia were softly treading the shady walk between the myrtle
hedges. Rachela's eyes were apparently fast closed when the
girls pased{sic} her, but she did not fail to notice how
charmingly Isabel had dressed herself. She wore, it is true,
her Spanish costume; but she had red roses at her breast, and
her white lace mantilla over her head.
"Ah! she is a clever little thing!" Rachela muttered. "She
knows that
Spanish race are brave enough to fight bulls, and only Spanish
bulls are brave enough to fight men."
She was quite pleased with herself for this speech, and
finding no one inclined to dispute the statement, she went on
to describe a festival of bulls she had been present at in the
city of Mexico. The subject delighted her, and she grew
eloquent over it; and, conscious only of Isabel's shining eyes
and enthusiastic interest, she did not notice the air of
thoughtfulness which had settled over her husband's face, nor
yet Antonia's ill-disguised weariness and anxiety.
On the night of the Valdez's party her father had said he
would talk with her. Antonia was watching for the confidence,
but not with any great desire. Her heart and her
intelligence told her it would mean trouble, and she had that
natural feeling of youth which gladly postpones the evil day.
And while her father was silent she believed there were still
possibilities of escape from it. So she was not sorry
that he again went to his office in the city without any
special word for her. It was another day stolen from the
uncertain future, for the calm usage of the present, and she
was determined to make happiness in it.
When all was still in the afternoon Isabel came to her. She
would not put the child to the necessity of again asking her
help. She rose at once, and said:
"Sit here, Iza, until I have opened the door for us. Then she
took a rich silk kerchief, blue as the sky, in her hand, and
went to the wide, matted hall. There she found Rachela,
asleep on a cane lounge. Antonia woke her.
"Rachela, I wish to go into the garden for an hour."
The Senorita does the thing she wants to, Rachela would not
presume to interfere. The Senorita became an Americano in New
York."
"There are good things in New York, Rachela; for instance,
this kerchief."
"That is indeed magnificent!"
"If you permit my sister to walk in the garden with me, I
shall give it to you this moment."
"Dona Isabel is different. She is a Mexicaine. She must be
watched continually."
"For what reason? She is as innocent as an angel."
"Let her simply grow up, and you will see that she is not
innocent as the angels. Oh, indeed! I could say something
about last night! Dona Isabel has no vocation for a nun; but,
gracias a Dios! Rachela is not yet blind or deaf."
"Let the child go with me for an hour, Rachela. The kerchief
will be so becoming to you. There is not another in San
Antonio like it."
Rachela was past forty, but not yet past the age of coquetry.
"It will look gorgeous with my gold ear-rings, but--"
"I will give you also the blue satin bow like it, to wear at
your breast."
"Si, si! I will give the permission, Senorita--for your sake
alone. The kerchief and bow are a little thing to you. To
me, they will be a great adornment. You are not to leave the
garden, however, and for one hour's walk only, Senorita;
certainly there is time for no more."
"I will take care of Isabel; no harm shall come to her. You
may keep your eyes shut for one hour, Rachela, and you may
shut your ears also, and put your feet on the couch and let
them rest. I will watch Isabel carefully, be sure of that."
"The child is very clever, and she has a lover already, I
fear. Keep your eyes on the myrtle hedge that skirts the
road. I have to say this--it is not for nothing she wants to
walk with you this afternoon. She would be better fast
asleep."
In a few moments the kerchief and the bow were safely folded
in the capacious pocket of Rachela's apron, and Isabel and
Antonia were softly treading the shady walk between the myrtle
hedges. Rachela's eyes were apparently fast closed when the
girls pased{sic} her, but she did not fail to notice how
charmingly Isabel had dressed herself. She wore, it is true,
her Spanish costume; but she had red roses at her breast, and
her white lace mantilla over her head.
"Ah! she is a clever little thing!" Rachela muttered. "She
knows that