at the same time as the convent. The convent wall
came up at its back. On the other three sides was a high fence. Over
the fence only the upper story could be seen, and it had a look so
still and closed up, that it brought back to me that feeling of mystery
the city used to give me as a child. But I never noticed or wondered
about it particularly until one day when I saw an open carriage waiting
in front of the steps.

While I was looking a woman came out of the gate, and got into the
carriage. She was Spanish, I saw at a glance, and big, and all in
sweeping black, but instead of being dark she was tawny, with a
wonderful glow of copper-colored hair through her black lace veil, and
in all my life I had never seen a creature move so gracefully as she.
It was like watching a beautiful cat. I asked Estrella Mendez who she
was, and Estrella blushed, and said she did not know. And when I asked
was she sure, because I knew the woman was Spanish, Estrella got quite
angry, and said she wasn't supposed to know all the Spanish people in
the city, and especially if they didn't have husbands. That surprised
me, for the woman had looked quite like a great lady, and when I went
home I spoke to father about it.

He said he feared Estrella was right--we none of us knew the Spanish
woman. "But," I told him, "she looks like a queen; and she has a
beautiful carriage." He laughed and said yes, she had money, and a
good deal of influence in high places, but the women she knew were not
the sort of people I would care about; and he finished by saying I was
a silly child to go staring at strange "greasers."

I did hate to have father laugh at me, but I couldn't help looking at
her slyly when now and then I saw her about the city. She was like no
other Spanish woman I had ever seen. Most of them are as white as
callas, powdered over the lashes; but you could see the strong bloom of
her skin even through the thick coat of rice powder she wore, and her
lashes were lovely. I noticed that because she kept them half down,
and looked out through them. But the most fascinating thing about her
was the way she moved, like something flowing; and once in a shop I
heard her speak, and her voice was so attractive, sweet and rather
thick, with such a gracious, petting sound to it! But she was always
alone. With it all she seemed to be mysterious, like her quiet
closed-up house. I got to making up stories about her, and sometimes
in my ro