"
"A pocket-book of the Doctor's?" repeated Dona Maria.
"Ay; but it contained nothing of thine," said Maruja. "The poor
child had sense enough to think of that. But I am in no hurry to
ask your consent and your blessing yet, little mother. I could
even bear that Amita should precede me to the altar, if the
exigencies of thy 'business' require it. It might also secure
Captain Carroll for me. Nay, look not at me in that cheapening,
commercial way--with compound interest in thine eyes. I am not so
poor an investment, truly, of thy original capital."
"Thou art thy father's child," said her mother, suddenly kissing
her; "and that is saying enough, the Blessed Virgin knows. Go
now," she continued, gently pushing her from the room, "and send
Amita hither." She watched the disappearance of Maruja's slightly
rebellious shoulders, and added to herself, "And this is the child
that Amita really believes is pining with lovesickness for Carroll,
so that she can neither sleep nor eat. This is the girl that
Faquita would have me think hath no longer any heart in her dress
or in her finery! Soul of Joseph Saltonstall!" ejaculated the
widow, lifting her shoulders and her eyes together, "thou hast much
to account for."
Two weeks later she again astonished her daughter. "Why dost thou
not join the party that drives over to see the wonders of Aladdin's
Palace to-day? It would seem more proper that thou shouldst
accompany thy guests than Raymond and Amita.
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