The Ne'er-Do-Well Part 51

"Well, I can't think of anything else."

"You are too bold. Spanish fathers do not like such young men. But to hear me talk!" She flushed slightly. "I have lost all modesty to speak of those things. You force me to embarra.s.s myself."

"I was an instantaneous success with Miss Torres' father. He was ready to send a dray for my trunks."

"Let us discuss other things."

"I haven't the strength. You once spoke of a chap your people had picked out. It isn't-Alfarez?"

She let her dark eyes rest upon his a moment, and his senses swam.

Then she nodded slowly.

"You do not like him?"

"Just like a nose-bleed. The day you and I are married I'm going to send him a wreath of poison ivy."

"It pleases you always to joke."

"No joke about that. You won't give in, will you?"

"There is no question of force nor of surrender, senor. I insist now that we shall speak of other things."

A few moments later he was constrained to rejoin his hostess'

party.

"When are you going back to Las Savannas?" he asked, as he reluctantly arose.

"To-morrow."

"The hunting ought to be good-"

But she frowned at him in annoyance, and he left her, after all, without knowing whether he had gained or lost ground. Of one thing only he was sure-their meeting had been in some respects a disappointment. She was not by any means so warm and impulsive as he had supposed. Her girlishness, her simplicity, her little American ways, cloaked a deep reserve and a fine sense of the difference in their positions. She could be Spanish enough when she chose, he perceived, and he felt, as he was intended to feel, that the little lady of quality he had met to-night would be much harder to win than the girl of the woods. The plague of it was that, if anything, he was more in love with the definite and dazzling Gertrudis Garavel than he had been with the mysteriously alluring Chiquita. If only she were all American, or even all Spanish, perhaps he would know better how to act. But, unfortunately, she was both-just enough of both to be perplexing and wholly unreliable. And then, too, there was Alfarez!

XX

AN AWAKENING

He was in no more satisfactory frame of mind when, on the next afternoon, he shouldered his gun and set out for the country. He went directly to the fairy pool, and waited there in a very fever of anxiety. Despite the coolness and peace of the place, he felt his pulses throb and his face burn. If she came, it would mean everything to him. If she stayed away-why, then he would have to believe that, after all, the real Gertrudis Garavel had spoken last night at the opera, and that the sprightly, mirthful little maid who had bewitched him on their first meeting no longer existed. An odd bashfulness overtook him. It did not seem to him that it could possibly have been he who had talked to her so boldly only the evening before. At the thought of his temerity he felt almost inclined to flee, yet he would not have deserted his post for worlds. The sound of a voice shot through his troubled thoughts like a beam of sunlight through a dark room.

"Oh, Senor Antonio! How you startled me!"

Instantly his self-possession came back. He felt relieved and gay.

"Good-afternoon, queen!" He rose and bowed politely. "I thought I saw one underneath the waterfall just now."

"Who would have expected you to be here?" she cried, with an extreme and obviously counterfeit amazement that filled him with delight.

"I'm lost," he declared; then, after one look into her eyes, he added, "Absolutely, utterly, irretrievably lost."

"It is very fortunate that I chanced to be pa.s.sing, for this is a lonely spot; n.o.body ever comes here."

"Well, I hardly ever lose myself in busy places. Won't you sit down?"

"Since we have met quite by accident, perhaps it would not be so very improper," She laughed mischievously.

"You know I've been lost now for several months. It's a delightful feeling-you ought to try it."

She settled uncertainly beside him like a b.u.t.terfly just alighting, ready to take flight again, on the instant.

"Perhaps I can help you to find your way, senor?" she said, with ingenuous politeness.

"You are the only one who can, Miss Garavel. I don't know that I ever told you, but I'm in love."

"Indeed?"

"I am the most miserably happy person in the world, for I have just this moment begun to believe that the young lady likes me a little bit."

"Oh! But I forgot the real reason why I came. I have something I must tell you."

"All right. But honestly now, didn't you WANT to come?"

She turned upon him in a little burst of pa.s.sion. "Yes!" she cried. "Of course I did! I wished to come, madly, senor. There is no use to lie. But wait! It is wholly because I am a-what you call fleert-a very sad fleert." No one could possibly describe the quaint p.r.o.nunciation she gave the word. "It makes my heart patter, like that"--she made her little fingers "patter"-"to be wooed even by a Yankee. But I do not love you in the least. Oh no! Even if I wished to do so, there are too many reasons why I could not, and when I explain you will understand."

"I know; it's Ramon Alfarez. You're half-way engaged to him--but you know you don't love him."

"Ah! It is not too sure. He is of fine family, he is rich, he is handsome-not possibly could I care for any man who was not all of those. All my life I have thought him a very sweet gentleman, and for a long time it has been agreed that I should be his wife. Even all the young ladies are furious at me, which is very nice also-so it is only because I am disobedient that I rebelled. But I was punished for my evil disposition." She sighed mournfully. "And now it is all arranged once more."

"Is it really signed, sealed, stamped, and delivered in the presence of?"

"No, no; but 'Arco siempre armado'-"

"Of course. Is that a prescription?"

'"A bow long bent grows weak.' And there are so many reasons why I should say yes."

"You haven't mentioned any that would be binding in law."

"My father's wish. Is not that sufficient?"

"You disregarded that once."

"That was but a flutter. All the time I knew I should be Ramon's wife when the time arrived. But it made him so unhappy that I was quite pleased. Only for those ugly blue dresses, I would have greatly enjoyed my penance. Perhaps I could refuse to wed a man my father chose for me, but no nice Spanish girl would dare to wed a man her father did not like. Do you see?"

"But it's no cinch your father won't positively hunger for me, once we get chummy."