Part 30 (1/2)
Dona Pomposa was trotting toward them, and while she struggled for her lost breath Eulogia repeated the proposal of the American, tw.a.n.ging her guitar the while.
The old lady took but one moment to make up her mind. ”The American,”
she said rapidly in Spanish. ”Garfias is rich now, but in a few years the Americans will have everything. Garfias will be poor; this man will be rich. Marry the American,” and she beamed upon Rogers.
Eulogia shrugged her shoulders and turned to her practical wooer.
”My mother she say she like you the best.”
”Then I may look upon that little transaction as settled?”
”Si you like it.”
”_Which_ art thou going to marry, Eulogia?” asked one of the girls that night, as they rode down the mountain.
”Neither,” said Eulogia, serenely.
X
Eulogia had just pa.s.sed through an animated interview with her mother.
Dona Pomposa had stormed and Eulogia had made an occasional reply in her cool monotonous voice, her gaze absently fixed on the gardens of the mission.
”Thou wicked little coquette!” cried Dona Pomposa, her voice almost worn out. ”Thou darest repeat to me that thou wilt not marry the Senor Rogers!”
”I will not. It was amusing to be engaged to him for a time, but now I am tired. You can give him what excuse you like, but tell him to go.”
”And the clothes I have made--the chests of linen with the beautiful deshalados that nearly put out Aunt Anastacia's eyes! The new silk gowns! Dias de mi vida! The magnificent bed-spread with the lace as deep as my hand!”
”They will keep until I do marry. Besides, I need some new clothes.”
”Dost thou indeed, thou little brat! Thou shalt not put on a smock or a gown in that chest if thou goest naked! But thou shalt marry him, I say!”
”No.”
”Oh, thou ice-hearted little devil!” Even Dona Pomposa's stomach was trembling with rage, and her fingers were jumping. ”Whom then wilt thou marry? Garfias?”
”No.”
”Thou wilt be an old maid like Aunt Anastacia.”
”Perhaps.”
”O--h--h--Who is this?”
A stranger in travelling sc.r.a.pe and riding-boots had dashed up to the house, and flung himself from his horse. He knocked loudly on the open door, then entered without waiting for an invitation, and made a deep reverence to Dona Pomposa.
”At your service, senora. At your service, senorita. I come from the Senor Don Tomas Garfias. Word has reached him that the Senorita Eulogia is about to marry an American. I humbly ask you to tell me if this be true or not. I have been told in town that the wedding is set for the day after to-morrow.”
”Ask her!” cried Dona Pomposa, tragically, and she swung herself to the other end of the room.