“But, mater terribilis, when I put my foot in that reception room, I get so sleepy that I can do nothing but yawn!”

“Well, they are a pair of saints.”

“Amen; I don’t dispute their sanctity; I am only saying that they are very tiresome and that they never stop talking. They keep up a duet like the Germans in La Diva. ‘Rogelio, how is mamma?’ ‘And how are you getting on with your studies?’” And he imitated the husky voice and Malagan accent of the old maids.

”

“What nonsense you talk,” said Señora de Pardiñas, repressing a smile,{58} “I don’t know why Pascuala and Mercedes should make you sleepy.”

{58}

“Unfathomable mysteries of the human heart. Profound arcana. In that dimora casta e pura a fatal narcotic pervades the atmosphere.”

“Humbug!”

During this skirmish between mother and son the girl stood waiting, motionless, with her eyes fixed upon the ground. Doña Aurora, at last remembering her presence, turned toward her:

“Excuse me, child; this letter says that you will tell me what you have come to see me about. Will you come upstairs?”

“No, Señora. Don’t put yourself to any trouble on my account. Here will do just as well.”

“Well, let me hear. Is it some favor you wish to ask of me?”

“Favor? No, Señora. I would like to enter into service in your house—or{59} in the house of some other Galician family,” she added, after a pause.

{59}

Doña Aurora looked fixedly at the petitioner and fancied she reddened slightly under her gaze.

“You—were not contented at the Señoritas de Romera’s, then?”

“Yes, Señora, I was contented enough—and I think they were pleased with me, too. You can see that from the letter they gave me. As far as the Señoritas are concerned I would be in glory, for they are as good as they can be, not belittling others. God grant them every prosperity! Only that sometimes—there are good people that one doesn’t find one’s self at home with. Those ladies are from Malaga, in the Andalusian country, and they have customs 

 Prev. P 21/117 next