omen were
several years even beyond that.

"I shall not be long away this time," Margaret had responded.

"Oh, enjoy your new plaything; it won't last!" said the aunt, still
sportive.

Margaret reached East Angels before sunset. Mrs. Carew told her that
Garda was down at the landing.

"I've been down there three times myself; in fact, I've just got back,"
said Betty, who looked flushed by these excursions. "The truth is, I
fancy she doesn't want to talk--she's cried so; and so of course I don't
stay, of course. And then, no sooner do I get back here, than I think
perhaps she's lonely, and down I go again. I don't mind the walk in the
_least_, though it _is_ a little warm to-day, but Carlos Mateo seems to
have taken a spite against me, for every single time, both going and
coming, he has chased me the whole length of the live-oak avenue--just
as soon as we were out of Garda's sight; and I'm _so_ afraid he'll reach
down and nip my ankles, that I _run_. However, I don't mind it at all,
_really_; and when I came up this last time I thought the best thing I
could do would be to try and get up something nice for Garda's supper;
she's touched nothing since morning, and so much crying is dreadfully
exhausting, of course. I'm right glad you've come, you'll be such a
comfort to her; and now _I_ will devote my time (I reckon it'll take it
all) to that Raquel, who certainly is the most tiresome; the only manner
of means, Mrs. Harold, by which I can get what I want this evening is to
keep going out to the kitchen and pretend to be merely looking in for a
moment or two in a friendly sort of way, as though she were an old
servant of my own, and talk about other matters, and then just allude to
the supper at the end casually, as one may call it; by keeping this up
an hour and a half _more_ (I've already been out three times) I _may_
get some faint approach to what I'm after. You see I'm only a Georgian,
not a Spaniard! And to think of what poor little Mistress Thorne must
have gone through with her--she, not even a Southerner! Oh dear! she
must have suffered. But a good many of us have suffered," continued
Betty, suddenly breaking down and bursting into tears. "I'm sure I don't
know why I cry now, Mrs. Harold, any more than any other time; I'm
ashamed of myself, really I am. But--sometimes--I--cannot--help it!" And
for a few moments the stout, ruddy-faced woman sobbed bitterly. In
truth she had suffered; she had seen her brothers,