"

"Do you care?"

"Who knows? Amita does not seem to fancy Jose, Esteban, Jorge, or any
of her cousins. She won't look at Juan Estudillo. The Captain is not
bad. He is of the government. He is--"

"Not more than ten leagues from here," said Maruja, playing with the
Captain's note in her belt. "You can send for him, dear little mother.
He will be glad."

"You will ever talk lightly--like your father! She was not then
grieved--our Amita--eh?"

"She and Dorotea and the two Wilsons went off with Raymond and your
Scotch friend in the wagonette. She did not cry--to Raymond."

"Good," said Mrs. Saltonstall, leaning back in her hammock. "Raymond is
an old friend. You had better take your siesta now, child, to be
bright for dinner. I expect a visitor this afternoon--Dr. West."

"Again! What will Pereo say, little mother?"

"Pereo," said the widow, sitting up again in her hammock, with
impatience, "Pereo is becoming intolerable. The man is as mad as Don
Quixote; it is impossible to conceal his eccentric impertinence and
interference from strangers, who can not understand his confidential
position in our house or his long service. There are no more
mayordomos, child. The Vallejos, the Briones, the Castros, do without
them now. Dr. West says, wisely, they are ridiculous survivals of the
patriarchal system."

"And can be replaced by intelligent strangers," interrupted Maruja,
demurely.

"The more easily if the patriarchal system has not been able to
preserve the respect due from children to parents. No, Maruja! No; I
am offended. Do not touch me! And your hair is coming down, and your
eyes have rings like owls. You uphold this fanatical Pereo because he
leaves YOU alone and stalks your poor sisters and their escorts like
the Indian, whose blood is in his veins. The saints only can tell if
he did not disgust this Captain Carroll into flight. He believes
himself the sole custodian of the honor of our family--that he has a
sacred mission from this Don Fulano of Koorotora to avert its fate.
Without doubt he keeps up his delusions with aguardiente, and passes
for a prophet among the silly peons and servants. He frightens the
children with his ridiculous stories, and teaches them to decorate that
heathen mound as if it were a shrine of Our Lady of Sorrows. He was
almost rude to Dr. West yesterday."

"But you have encouraged him in his confidential position here," said
Maruja. "You forget, my mother,