X

Eulogia had just passed through an animated interview with her mother.
Doña 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 Doña Pomposa, her voice almost
worn out. "Thou darest repeat to me that thou wilt not marry the Señor
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 Doña Pomposa's stomach was
trembling with rage, and her fingers were jumping. "Whom then wilt thou