. . . indeed, all there was, practically, and the señorita might herself starve, if they[49] did not find Don Carlos soon. That was enough, surely; let them remain as they were.

"You are right, Manuela!" said Rita, nodding sagely. "We must go together. Your heart does not appear to be stirred as mine is; but never mind—the hungry are fed, and that is the thing of importance. Farewell, then, friends! How do they call you, that I may know how to tell those whom I shall send?"

The younger woman was named Dolores, she said. Her husband was Pedro Valdez, and this old one was his mother. If the señorita should see Pedro—if by Heaven's mercy he should be with the General at this moment, all would indeed be well. In any case, their prayers and blessings would go with the señorita and her valued attendant.

Often and often, the soft Spanish speech of compliment and ceremony sounded hollow and artificial in Rita's ears, . . . Read More