While
she read his eyes were on her dreamily, until at last he closed them
with a little sigh.
CHAPTER XI
SAN FRANCISCO IS NAMED
Evening on the Windham rancho. Far below, across a vast green stretch of
meadow sloping toward the sea, the sun sank into crimson canopies of
cloud. It was one of those perfect days which come after the first
rains, mellow and exhilarating. The Trio in the rose arbor of the patio
were silent under the spell of its beauty. Don Roberto Windham, home
again, after long months of wandering and hardship, stood beside the
chair in which Senora Windham rested against a pillow. She had mended
much since his return, and her eyes as she looked up at him held the
same flashing, fiery tenderness which in the long ago had caused her to
renounce Castilian traditions and become the bride of an Americano. At
her feet upon a low stool sat her daughter, Inez, and Windham, as he
looked down, was a little startled at her likeness to the Spanish beauty
he had met and married a generation before.
Conscious of his glance, her eyes turned upward and she held out her
hand to him. "Father, mine," she said in English, "you have made the
roses bloom again in mother's cheeks.
Pages:
59
60
61
62
63
64
65
66
67
68
69
70
71
72
73
74
75
76
77
78
79
80
81
82
83