d nothing very evil. In the
present instance his preference held intentions quite without that
element; he should spend four or five days in Gracias; he should collect
various small possessions, which, owing to his hasty departure, he had
left scattered about there, at East Angels, at Madam Giron's, at the
rectory; he should finish two or three sketches in which he felt an
interest; and he should say good-by in a more leisurely way to his
relatives, the Moores, as well as to the other people there whom he
liked so well, for he had the feeling that a long time might elapse
before he should see the little coast hamlet again. He had hoped to stay
with Madam Giron, as before. But when he arrived at her door, late in
the afternoon of the 19th, he found it barred and that lady absent:
evidently his letter had not reached her.

Madam Giron had seemed to him like one of those barges which lie moored
far up some quiet bay, with their masts removed and a permanent plank
walk made from the deck to the shore. The idea that this stationary
craft could have gone to sea, that this sweet-tempered lady, with her
beautiful eyes, redundant figure, many children, and complete
non-admiration for energy, could have started suddenly on her travels,
had never once occurred to him.

Until five days before, it had never occurred to Madam Giron herself.

At that date she had received a letter from Cuba telling her that a
share in some property was awaiting her there; a long-contested lawsuit
having at length been decided in favor of her mother's family. Madam
Giron consulted her friends: was it an occasion when duty demanded that
she should make the great effort of going in person to Cuba for the sake
of "these dear angels," her children (the lawyer having written that her
presence would be necessary), or was it not? Gracias discussed this
point. It _was_ an effort for a lady to make; a lady was not in the
habit of leaving the cherished seclusion of her own circle, to rush
about the world at a lawyer's request, exposing herself in public
conveyances to association with all sorts of people; some of her
friends, notably the Senor Ruiz and her own nephew, Adolfo Torres, were
decidedly of the opinion that she should not go.

"It's so characteristic--their discussing it as they are doing,"
Winthrop remarked to his aunt--"discussing whether or not to take a
short journey in order to secure an inheritance."

"It's a very small inheritance, isn't it