VII
IT was strange to see how quickly and naturally Alessandro fitted intohis place in the household. How tangles straightened out, and roughplaces became smooth, as he quietly took matters in hand. Luckily, oldJuan Can had always liked him, and felt a great sense of relief at thenews of his staying on. Not a wholly unselfish relief, perhaps, forsince his accident Juan had not been without fears that he might losehis place altogether; there was a Mexican he knew, who had longbeen scheming to get the situation, and had once openly boasted ata fandango, where he was dancing with Anita, that as soon as thatsuperannuated old fool, Juan Canito, was out of the way, he meant tobe the Senora Moreno's head shepherd himself. To have seen this man inauthority on the place, would have driven Juan out of his mind.
But the gentle Alessandro, only an Indian,--and of course the Senorawould never think of putting an Indian permanently in so responsible aposition on the estate,--it was exactly as Juan would have wished; andhe fraternized with Alessandro heartily from the outset; kept him inhis room by the hour, giving him hundreds of long-winded directions andexplanations about things which, if only he had known it, Alessandrounderstood far better than he did.
Alessandro's father had managed the Mission flocks and herds at San LuisRey for twenty years; few were as skilful as he; he himself owned nearlyas many sheep as the Senora Moreno; but this Juan did not know. Neitherdid he realize that Alessandro, as Chief Pablo's son, had a positionof his own not without dignity and authority. To Juan, an Indian wasan Indian, and that was the end of it. The gentle courteousness ofAlessandro's manner, his quiet behavior, were all set down in Juan'smind to the score of the boy's native amiability and sweetness. If Juanhad been told that the Senor Felipe himself had not been more carefullytrained in all precepts of kindliness, honorable dealing, and politeusage, by the Senora, his mother, than had Alessandro by his father, hewould have opened his eyes wide. The standards of the two parentswere different, to be sure; but the advantage could not be shown to beentirely on the Senora's side. There were many things that Felipe knew,of which Alessandro was profoundly ignorant; but there were othersin which Alessandro could have taught Felipe; and when it came to thethings of the soul, and of honor, Alessandro's plane was the higherof the two. Felipe was a fair-minded, honorable man, as men go; butcircumstances and opportunity would have a hold on him they could neverget on Alessandro. Alessandro would not lie; Felipe might. Alessandrowas by nature full of veneration and the religious instinct; Felipe hadbeen trained into being a good Catholic. But they were both singularlypure-minded, open-hearted, generous-souled young men, and destined, bythe strange chance which had thus brought them into familiar relations,to become strongly attached to each other. After the day on whichthe madness of Felipe's fever had been so miraculously soothed andcontrolled by Alessandro's singing, he was never again wildly delirious.When he waked in the night from that first long sleep, he was, as FatherSalvierderra had predicted, in his right mind; knew every one, and askedrational questions. But the over-heated and excited brain did notfor some time wholly resume normal action. At intervals he wandered,especially when just arousing from sleep; and, strangely enough, itwas always for Alessandro that he called at these times, and it seemedalways to be music that he craved. He recollected Alessandro's havingsung to him that first night. "I was not so crazy as you all thought,"he said. "I knew a great many of the things I said, but I couldn't helpsaying them; and I heard Ramona ask Alessandro to sing; and when hebegan, I remember I thought the Virgin had reached down and put her handon my head and cooled it."
On the second evening, the first after the shearers had left,Alessandro, seeing Ramona in the veranda, went to the foot of the steps,and said, "Senorita, would Senor Felipe like to have me play on theviolin to him tonight?"
"Why, whose violin have you got?" exclaimed Ramona, astonished.
"My own, Senorita."
"Your own! I thought you said you did not bring it."
"Yes, Senorita, that is true; but I sent for it last night, and it ishere."
"Sent to Temecula and back already!" cried Ramona.
"Yes, Senorita. Our ponies are swift and strong. They can go a hundredmiles in a day, and not suffer. It was Jose brought it, and he is at theOrtega's by this time."
Ramona's eyes glistened. "I wish I could have thanked him," she said."You should have let me know. He ought to have been paid for going."
"I paid him, Senorita; he went for me," said Alessandro, with a shade ofwounded pride in the tone, which Ramona should have perceived, but didnot, and went on hurting the lover's heart still more.
"But it was for us that you sent for it, Alessandro; the Senora wouldrather pay the messenger herself."
"It is paid, Senorita. It is nothing. If the Senor Felipe wishes to hearthe violin, I will play;" and Alessandro walked slowly away.
Ramona gazed after him. For the first time, she looked at him with nothought of his being an Indian,--a thought there had surely been no needof her having, since his skin was not a shade darker than Felipe's;but so strong was the race feeling, that never till that moment had sheforgotten it.
"What a superb head, and what a walk!" she thought. Then, looking moreobservantly, she said: "He walks as if he were offended. He did notlike my offering to pay for the messenger. He wanted to do it for dearFelipe. I will tell Felipe, and we will give him some present when hegoes away."
"Isn't he splendid, Senorita?" came in a light laughing tone fromMargarita's lips close to her ear, in the fond freedom of theirrelation. "Isn't he splendid? And oh, Senorita, you can't think how hedances! Last year I danced with him every night; he has wings on hisfeet, for all he is so tall and big."
There was a coquettish consciousness in the girl's tone, that wassuddenly, for some unexplained reason, exceedingly displeasing toRamona. Drawing herself away, she spoke to Margarita in a tone she hadnever before in her life used. "It is not fitting to speak like thatabout young men. The Senora would be displeased if she heard you," shesaid, and walked swiftly away leaving poor Margarita as astounded as ifshe had got a box on the ear.
She looked after Ramona's retreating figure, then after Alessandro's.She had heard them talking together just before she came up. Thoroughlybewildered and puzzled, she stood motionless for several seconds,reflecting; then, shaking her head, she ran away, trying to dismiss theharsh speech from her mind. "Alessandro must have vexed the Senorita,"she thought, "to make her speak like that to me." But the incident wasnot so easily dismissed from Margarita's thoughts. Many times in theday it recurred to her, still a bewilderment and a puzzle, as far fromsolution as ever. It was a tiny seed, whose name she did not dream of;but it was dropped in soil where it would grow some day,--forcing-housesoil, and a bitter seed; and when it blossomed, Ramona would have anenemy.
All unconscious, equally of Margarita's heart and her own, Ramonaproceeded to Felipe's room. Felipe was sleeping, the Senora sitting byhis side, as she had sat for days and nights,--her dark face lookingthinner and more drawn each day; her hair looking even whiter, if thatcould be; and her voice growing hollow from faintness and sorrow.
"Dear Senora," whispered Ramona, "do go out for a few moments while hesleeps, and let me watch,--just on the walk in front of the veranda. Thesun is still lying there, bright and warm. You will be ill if you do nothave air."
The Senora shook her head. "My place is here," she answered, speaking ina dry, hard tone. Sympathy was hateful to the Senora Moreno; she wishedneither to give it nor take it. "I shall not leave him. I do not needthe air."
Ramona had a cloth-of-gold rose in her hand. The veranda eaves were nowshaded with them, hanging down like a thick fringe of golden tassels. Itwas the rose Felipe loved best. Stooping, she laid it on the bed, nearFelipe's head. "He will like to see it when he wakes," she said.
The Senora seized it, and flung it far out in the room. "Take it away!Flowers are poison when one is ill," she said coldly. "Have I never toldyou that?"
"No, Senora," replied Ramona, meekly; and she gla
nced involuntarily atthe saucer of musk which the Senora kept on the table close to Felipe'spillow.
"The musk is different," said the Senora, seeing the glance. "Musk is amedicine; it revives."
Ramona knew, but she would have never dared to say, that Felipe hatedmusk. Many times he had said to her how he hated the odor; but hismother was so fond of it, that it must always be that the veranda andthe house would be full of it. Ramona hated it too. At times it made herfaint, with a deadly faintness. But neither she nor Felipe would haveconfessed as much to the Senora; and if they had, she would have thoughtit all a fancy.
"Shall I stay?" asked Ramona, gently.
"As you please," replied the Senora. The simple presence of Ramona irkedher now with a feeling she did not pretend to analyze, and wouldhave been terrified at if she had. She would not have dared to sayto herself, in plain words: "Why is that girl well and strong, and myFelipe lying here like to die! If Felipe dies, I cannot bear the sightof her. What is she, to be preserved of the saints!"
But that, or something like it, was what she felt whenever Ramonaentered the room; still more, whenever she assisted in ministering toFelipe. If it had been possible, the Senora would have had no hands buther own do aught for her boy. Even tears from Ramona sometimes irritatedher. "What does she know about loving Felipe! He is nothing to her!"thought the Senora, strangely mistaken, strangely blind, strangelyforgetting how feeble is the tie of blood in the veins by the side oflove in the heart.
If into this fiery soul of the Senora's could have been dropped onesecond's knowledge of the relative positions she and Ramona alreadyoccupied in Felipe's heart, she would, on the spot, have either diedherself or have slain Ramona, one or the other. But no such knowledgewas possible; no such idea could have found entrance into the Senora'smind. A revelation from Heaven of it could hardly have reached even herears. So impenetrable are the veils which, fortunately for us all, areforever held by viewless hands between us and the nearest and closest ofour daily companions.
At twilight of this day Felipe was restless and feverish again. He haddozed at intervals all day long, but had had no refreshing sleep.
"Send for Alessandro," he said. "Let him come and sing to me."
"He has his violin now; he can play, if you would like that better,"said Ramona; and she related what Alessandro had told her of themessenger's having ridden to Temecula and back in a night and half aday, to bring it.
"I wanted to pay the man," she said; "I knew of course your mother wouldwish to reward him. But I fancy Alessandro was offended. He answered meshortly that it was paid, and it was nothing."
"You couldn't have offended him more," said Felipe. "What a pity! He isas proud as Lucifer himself, that Alessandro. You know his father hasalways been the head of their band; in fact, he has authority overseveral bands; General, they call it now, since they got the title fromthe Americans; they used to call it Chief., and until Father Peyri leftSan Luis Rey, Pablo was in charge of all the sheep, and general stewardand paymaster. Father Peyri trusted him with everything; I've heard hewould leave boxes full of uncounted gold in Pablo's charge to pay offthe Indians. Pablo reads and writes, and is very well off; he has asmany sheep as we have, I fancy!"
"What!" exclaimed Ramona, astonished. "They all look as if they werepoor."
"Oh, well, so they are," replied Felipe, "compared with us; but onereason is, they share everything with each other. Old Pablo feeds andsupports half his village, they say. So long as he has anything, he willnever see one of his Indians hungry."
"How generous!" warmly exclaimed Ramona; "I think they are better thanwe are, Felipe!"
"I think so, too," said Felipe. "That's what I have always said. TheIndians are the most generous people in the world. Of course they havelearned it partly from us; but they were very much so when the Fathersfirst came here. You ask Father Salvierderra some day. He has readall Father Junipero's and Father Crespi's diaries, and he says it iswonderful how the wild savages gave food to every one who came."
"Felipe, you are talking too much," said the Senora's voice, in thedoorway; and as she spoke she looked reproachfully at Ramona. If shehad said in words, "See how unfit you are to be trusted with Felipe. Nowonder I do not leave the room except when I must!" her meaning couldnot have been plainer. Ramona felt it keenly, and not without somemisgiving that it was deserved.
"Oh, dear Felipe, has it hurt you?" she said timidly; and to the Senora,"Indeed, Senora, he has been speaking but a very few moments, very low."
"Go call Alessandro, Ramona, will you?" said Felipe. "Tell him to bringhis violin. I think I will go to sleep if he plays."
A long search Ramona had for Alessandro. Everybody had seen him a fewminutes ago, but nobody knew where he was now. Kitchens, sheepfolds,vineyards, orchards, Juan Can's bedchamber,--Ramona searched them allin vain. At last, standing at the foot of the veranda steps, and lookingdown the garden, she thought she saw figures moving under the willows bythe washing-stones.
"Can he be there?" she said. "What can he be doing there? Who is it withhim?" And she walked down the path, calling, "Alessandro! Alessandro!"
At the first sound, Alessandro sprang from the side of his companion,and almost before the second syllables had been said, was standing faceto face with Ramona.
"Here I am, Senorita. Does Senor Felipe want me? I have my violin here.I thought perhaps he would like to have me play to him in the twilight."
"Yes," replied Ramona, "he wishes to hear you. I have been lookingeverywhere for you." As she spoke, she was half unconsciously peeringbeyond into the dusk, to see whose figure it was, slowly moving by thebrook.
Nothing escaped Alessandro's notice where Ramona was concerned. "It isMargarita," he said instantly. "Does the Senorita want her? Shall I runand call her?"
"No," said Ramona, again displeased, she knew not why, nor in fact knewshe was displeased; "no, I was not looking for her. What is she doingthere?"
"She is washing," replied Alessandro, innocently.
"Washing at this time of day!" thought Ramona, severely. "A merepretext. I shall watch Margarita. The Senora would never allow this sortof thing." And as she walked back to the house by Alessandro's side,she meditated whether or no she would herself speak to Margarita on thesubject in the morning.
Margarita, in the mean time, was also having her season of reflectionsnot the pleasantest. As she soused her aprons up and down in the water,she said to herself, "I may as well finish them now I am here. Howprovoking! I've no more than got a word with him, than she must come,calling him away. And he flies as if he was shot on an arrow, atthe first word. I'd like to know what's come over the man, to be sodifferent. If I could ever get a good half-hour with him alone, I'd soonfind out. Oh, but his eyes go through me, through and through me! Iknow he's an Indian, but what do I care for that. He's a million timeshandsomer than Senor Felipe. And Juan Jose said the other day he'd makeenough better head shepherd than old Juan Can, if Senor Felipe'd onlysee it; and why shouldn't he get to see it, if Alessandro's hereall summer?" And before the aprons were done, Margarita had a fineair-castle up: herself and Alessandro married, a nice little house,children playing in the sunshine below the artichoke-patch, she herselfstill working for the Senora. "And the Senorita will perhaps marry SenorFelipe," she added, her thoughts moving more hesitatingly. "He worshipsthe ground she walks on. Anybody with quarter of a blind eye can seethat; but maybe the Senora would not let him. Anyhow, Senor Felipe issure to have a wife, and so and so." It was an innocent, girlish castle,built of sweet and natural longings, for which no maiden, high orlow, need blush; but its foundations were laid in sand, on which wouldpresently beat such winds and floods as poor little Margarita neverdreamed of.
The next day Margarita and Ramona both went about their day's businesswith a secret purpose in their hearts. Margarita had made up her mindthat before night she would, by fair means or foul, have a good longtalk with Alessandro. "He was fond enough of me last year, I know,"she said to herself, recalling some of the da
nces and the good-nightleave-takings at that time. "It's because he is so put upon by everybodynow. What with Juan Can in one bed sending for him to prate to him aboutthe sheep, and Senor Felipe in another sending for him to fiddle him tosleep, and all the care of the sheep, it's a wonder he's not out of hismind altogether. But I'll find a chance, or make one, before this day'ssun sets. If I can once get a half-hour with him, I'm not afraid afterthat; I know the way it is with men!" said the confident Margarita,who, truth being told, it must be admitted, did indeed know a greatdeal about the way it is with men, and could be safely backed, in a fairfield, with a fair start, against any girl of her age and station inthe country. So much for Margarita's purpose, at the outset of a daydestined to be an eventful one in her life.
Ramona's purpose was no less clear. She had decided, after somereflection, that she would not speak to the Senora about Margarita'shaving been under the willows with Alessandro in the previous evening,but would watch her carefully and see whether there were any farthersigns of her attempting to have clandestine interviews with him.
This course she adopted, she thought, chiefly because of her affectionfor Margarita, and her unwillingness to expose her to the Senora'sdispleasure, which would be great, and terrible to bear. She was alsoaware of an unwillingness to bring anything to light which would reflectever so lightly upon Alessandro in the Senora's estimation. "And he isnot really to blame," thought Ramona, "if a girl follows him about andmakes free with him. She must have seen him at the willows, and gonedown there on purpose to meet him, making a pretext of the washing. Forshe never in this world would have gone to wash in the dark, as he musthave known, if he were not a fool. He is not the sort of person, itseems to me, to be fooling with maids. He seems as full of grave thoughtas Father Salvierderra. If I see anything amiss in Margarita to-day, Ishall speak to her myself, kindly but firmly, and tell her to conductherself more discreetly."
Then, as the other maiden's had done, Ramona's thoughts, beingconcentrated on Alessandro, altered a little from their first key, andgrew softer and more imaginative; strangely enough, taking some of thephrases, as it were, out of the other maiden's mouth.
"I never saw such eyes as Alessandro has," she said. "I wonder any girlshould make free with him. Even I myself, when he fixes his eyes on me,feel a constraint. There is something in them like the eyes of a saint,so solemn, yet so mild. I am sure he is very good."
And so the day opened; and if there were abroad in the valley that daya demon of mischief, let loose to tangle the skeins of human affairs,things could not have fallen out better for his purpose than they did;for it was not yet ten o'clock of the morning, when Ramona, sitting ather embroidery in the veranda, half hid behind the vines, saw Alessandrogoing with his pruning-knife in his hand towards the artichoke-patch atthe east of the garden, and joining the almond orchard. "I wonderwhat he is going to do there," she thought. "He can't be going to cutwillows;" and her eyes followed him till he disappeared among the trees.
Ramona was not the only one who saw this. Margarita, looking from theeast window of Father Salvierderra's room, saw the same thing. "Now'smy chance!" she said; and throwing a white reboso coquettishly over herhead, she slipped around the corner of the house. She ran swiftly in thedirection in which Alessandro had gone. The sound of her steps reachedRamona, who, lifting her eyes, took in the whole situation at a glance.There was no possible duty, no possible message, which would takeMargarita there. Ramona's cheeks blazed with a disproportionateindignation. But she bethought herself, "Ah, the Senora may have senther to call Alessandro!" She rose, went to the door of Felipe's room,and looked in. The Senora was sitting in the chair by Felipe's bed,with her eyes closed. Felipe was dozing. The Senora opened her eyes, andlooked inquiringly at Ramona.
"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 thepeppers this morning."
Ramona nodded, returned to the veranda, and sat down to decide onher course of action. Then she rose again, and going to FatherSalvierderra's room, looked in. The room was still in disorder.Margarita had left her work there unfinished. The color deepened onRamona's cheeks. It was strange how accurately she divined each processof the incident. "She saw him from this window," said Ramona, "and hasrun after him. It is shameful. I will go and call her back, and let hersee that I saw it all. It is high time that this was stopped."
But once back in the veranda, Ramona halted, and seated herself in herchair again. The idea of seeming to spy was revolting to her.
"I will wait here till she comes back," she said, and took up herembroidery. But she could not work. As the minutes went slowly by, shesat with her eyes fixed on the almond orchard, where first Alessandroand then Margarita had disappeared. At last she could bear it no longer.It seemed to her already a very long time. It was not in reality verylong,--a half hour or so, perhaps; but it was long enough for Margaritato have made great headway, as she thought, in her talk with Alessandro,and for things to have reached just the worst possible crisis at whichthey could have been surprised, when Ramona suddenly appeared at theorchard gate, saying in a stern tone, "Margarita, you are wanted in thehouse!" At a bad crisis, indeed, for everybody concerned. The picturewhich Ramona had seen, as she reached the gate, was this: Alessandro,standing with his back against the fence, his right hand hanginglistlessly down, with the pruning-knife in it, his left hand in the handof Margarita, who stood close to him, looking up in his face, with ahalf-saucy, half-loving expression. What made bad matters worse, was,that at the first sight of Ramona, Alessandro snatched his hand fromMargarita's, and tried to draw farther off from her, looking at her withan expression which, even in her anger, Ramona could not help seeing wasone of disgust and repulsion. And if Ramona saw it, how much more didMargarita! Saw it, as only a woman repulsed in presence of another womancan see and feel. The whole thing was over in the twinkling of an eye;the telling it takes double, treble the time of the happening. BeforeAlessandro was fairly aware what had befallen, Ramona and Margaritawere disappearing from view under the garden trellis,--Ramona walking inadvance, stately, silent, and Margarita following, sulky, abject in hergait, but with a raging whirlwind in her heart.
It had taken only the twinkling of an eye, but it had told Margarita thetruth. Alessandro too.
"My God." he said, "the Senorita thought me making love to that girl.May the fiends get her! The Senorita looked at me as if I were a dog. Howcould she think a man would look at a woman after he had once seen her!And I can never, never speak to her to tell her! Oh, this cannot beborne!" And in his rage Alessandro threw his pruning-knife whirlingthrough the air so fiercely, it sank to the hilt in one of the oldolive-trees. He wished he were dead. He was minded to flee the place.How could he ever look the Senorita in the face again!
"Perdition take that girl!" he said over and over in his helplessdespair. An ill outlook for Margarita after this; and the girl had notdeserved it.
In Margarita's heart the pain was more clearly defined. She had seenRamona a half-second before Alessandro had; and dreaming no specialharm, except a little confusion at being seen thus standing withhim,--for she would tell the Senorita all about it when matters had gonea little farther,--had not let go of Alessandro's hand. But the nextsecond she had seen in his face a look; oh, she would never forget it,never! That she should live to have had any man look at her like that!At the first glimpse of the Senorita, all the blood in his body seemedrushing into his face, and he had snatched his hand away,--for it wasMargarita herself that had taken his hand, not he hers,--had snatchedhis hand away, and pushed her from him, till she had nearly fallen. Allthis might have been borne, if it had been only a fear of the Senorita'sseeing them, which had made him do it. But Margarita knew a great dealbetter than that. That one swift, anguished, shame-smitten, appealing,worshipping look on Alessandro's face, as his eyes rested on Ramona, waslike a flash of light into Margarita's consciousness. F
ar better thanAlessandro himself, she now knew his secret. In her first rage she didnot realize either the gulf between herself and Ramona, or that betweenRamona and Alessandro. Her jealous rage was as entire as if they hadall been equals together. She lost her head altogether, and there wasembodied insolence in the tone in which she said presently, "Did theSenorita want me?"
Turning swiftly on her, and looking her full in the eye, Ramona said:"I saw you go to the orchard, Margarita, and I knew what you went for. Iknew that you were at the brook last night with Alessandro. All I wantedof you was, to tell you that if I see anything more of this sort, Ishall speak to the Senora."
"There is no harm," muttered Margarita, sullenly. "I don't know what theSenorita means."
"You know very well, Margarita," retorted Ramona. "You know that theSenora permits nothing of the kind. Be careful, now, what you do." Andwith that the two separated, Ramona returning to the veranda and herembroidery, and Margarita to her neglected duty of making the goodFather's bed. But each girl's heart was hot and unhappy; and Margarita'swould have been still hotter and unhappier, had she heard the wordswhich were being spoken on the veranda a little later.
After a few minutes of his blind rage at Margarita, himself, and fategenerally, Alessandro, recovering his senses, had ingeniously persuadedhimself that, as the Senora's; and also the Senorita's servant, for thetime being, he owed it to them to explain the situation in which he hadjust been found. Just what he was to say he did not know; but no soonerhad the thought struck him, than he set off at full speed for the house,hoping to find Ramona on the veranda, where he knew she spent all hertime when not with Senor Felipe.
When Ramona saw him coming, she lowered her eyes, and was absorbed inher embroidery. She did not wish to look at him.
The footsteps stopped. She knew he was standing at the steps. She wouldnot look up. She thought if she did not, he would go away. She did notknow either the Indian or the lover nature. After a time, finding theconsciousness of the soundless presence intolerable, she looked up, andsurprised on Alessandro's face a gaze which had, in its long intervalof freedom from observation, been slowly gathering up into it all thepassion of the man's soul, as a burning-glass draws the fire of thesun's rays. Involuntarily a low cry burst from Ramona's lips, and shesprang to her feet.
"Ah! did I frighten the Senorita? Forgive. I have been waiting here along time to speak to her. I wished to say--"
Suddenly Alessandro discovered that he did not know what he wished tosay.
As suddenly, Ramona discovered that she knew all he wished to say. Butshe spoke not, only looked at him searchingly.
"Senorita," he began again, "I would never be unfaithful to my duty tothe Senora, and to you."
"I believe you, Alessandro," said Ramona. "It is not necessary to saymore."
At these words a radiant joy spread over Alessandro's face. He had nothoped for this. He felt, rather than heard, that Ramona understood him.He felt, for the first time, a personal relation between himself andher.
"It is well," he said, in the brief phrase so frequent with his people."It is well." And with a reverent inclination of his head, he walkedaway. Margarita, still dawdling surlily over her work in FatherSalvierderra's room, heard Alessandro's voice, and running to discoverto whom he was speaking, caught these last, words. Peering from behinda curtain, she saw the look with which he said them; saw also theexpression on Ramona's face as she listened.
Margarita clenched her hands. The seed had blossomed. Ramona had anenemy.
"Oh, but I am glad Father Salvierderra has gone!" said the girl,bitterly. "He'd have had this out of me, spite of everything. I haven'tgot to confess for a year, maybe; and much can happen in that time."
Much, indeed!