SEÑORITA
It was in old Sonora town that Miss Helen came across Señorita Dolores Mendez de Garcia. This part of the city always fascinated Miss Helen and she took frequent walks through the ancient streets bordered by the houses built a century before and occupied by the former Spanish residents. But a few of these now remained, though the quaint one-storied, adobe structures, with their deep-niched windows, spoke eloquently of a former régime. It was at the door of one of the best preserved of these houses that there stood a dark-eyed girl as Miss Helen passed by. Her fair skin and soft brown hair marked her as unlike her dark-complexioned neighbors, and when she picked up the handkerchief which Miss Helen accidentally dropped she returned it saying, "Permit me to return your handkerchief, madam." It was then that Miss Helen marked the girl's grace and refinement. "Surely," she said to herself, "she is a descendant of some blue-blooded hidalgo. I should like to know more of her." Then as a sudden thought struck her she said to the girl, "Could you recommend to me a good teacher of Spanish? I wish to take a few lessons."
The warm color spread over the girl's soft cheeks as she replied hesitatingly: "Perhaps if madame will allow me to call upon her I shall be able to give her the information she desires."
Miss Helen gave her address and made an appointment for the next day, then she went on her way wondering if she had been too impulsive. The appointment was promptly kept and the conference was a long one. Mrs. Corner was finally called in and the session continued behind closed doors.
"What in the world do you suppose they can be talking about all this time?" said Nan to Mary Lee as the two swung in a hammock on the veranda. "They've been there hours I do believe."
"Aunt Helen said the young lady was to tell her about a Spanish teacher," returned Mary Lee, "but I should think she must be giving a lesson herself."
"Hark, there is the piano," said Nan, "and it is not Aunt Helen playing. That surely must be a Spanish dance. Isn't it lovely? It sounds like castanets and Moorish palaces and things."
"Oh, you are so romantic, Nan," said Mary Lee; "you are always imagining all sorts of things."
"She plays well," continued Nan without heeding her sister, and listening intently to the music. "I wonder if she plays the guitar or the mandolin; I should love to hear her."
"They are coming out now," remarked Mary Lee after a pause. "She is very pretty, Nan, isn't she?"
Nan drew herself up from her lounging position and Mary Lee did the same. The movement attracted Miss Helen's attention. "Come here, girls," she said, "I want you to meet Miss de Garcia who will perhaps be your teacher for the time you will be here." Miss Helen was anxious to note the effect upon the girls, of this latest applicant.
The young lady gave a flashing smile to each of the girls and extended a slim hand. "I am pleased to meet the young ladies," she said with a slight accent and deliberate utterance. "We shall be good friends, yes?"
The girls were ready to promise friendship on the spot, and after a few more words Miss de Garcia departed promising to be on hand the next morning to begin her work.
As soon as she was out of hearing the questions began. "Where did you find her, Aunt Helen? Is she Spanish? Isn't she lovely? Are we to have Spanish lessons? Can she teach English? Oh, do tell us all about her."
"I met her quite by accident," said Miss Helen, "but I was charmed at once. I had no idea of engaging her as a teacher for you children till I learned that she was quite qualified and then it seemed as if a good providence had sent her to me. She has given me satisfactory references, and there seems no reason why she should not be everything we could desire. She speaks French as well as she does English, for she was partially educated in France at a convent there, and spent a year in England. She is an orphan who was adopted by her aunt when she was scarce more than a baby. The aunt has since died, but the girl has been living in the family of her aunt's husband where I fancy she is not entirely happy. Now the uncle has married a second time and Miss de Garcia felt that her place in the household is not such as it was during her aunt's lifetime, therefore she is very anxious to be independent for she cannot bear to be a burden upon those to whom she is not related by ties of blood. I learned this only through some little remarks she happened to make, for she made no complaints, yet I judge that is the situation."
"She is the loveliest thing I ever saw," said Mary Lee with a long sigh. "Those beautiful melting dark eyes, that lovely hair and that exquisite complexion; I shall love to sit and look at her."
"I Shall Love to Sit and Look at Her."
"In which case you will not learn very much," returned Miss Helen laughing. "When Mary begins to get sentimental," she went on saying to Mrs. Corner, "I feel as if California were really going to our heads. What have you to say, Miss Nan?"
"Words fail," replied Nan expressively.
"Then you think she will do," said Miss Helen with a smile.
"She's exactly right," returned Nan. "Are you going to engage her, Aunt Helen?"
"If her references prove satisfactory, as I have no doubt they will. She seems to me really a great find. How often it is that we get what we want quite by accident. After all our inquiries and advertisements to merely chance upon Miss Garcia seems queer. Her French is beautiful, and though she is not a great musician, she has temperament and has been taught in the right way."
"I loved those things she was playing," said Nan. "They were Spanish, weren't they?"
"Some of them."
"I thought so. I felt the castanets and tambourines were there."
Miss Helen nodded approvingly. "That's it exactly. I am glad you recognized just what I did. I shall certainly be disappointed now if there is any adverse report."
"Whom does she give as reference?" inquired Mrs. Corner.
"An old priest, an antique Spanish lady and her uncle, but," seeing Mrs. Corner's doubtful expression, "I am content with them. She has not lived in this city long and has made few friends. If we could wait she would like me to write to the heads of the schools where she was educated: the convent mother in France and the principal of the English school, but I think we can waive that. Aren't you satisfied, Mary? Would you rather wait?"
"I am perfectly satisfied if you are."
"Then to-morrow I will start out upon my visits to her three friends. I shall rather enjoy myself, I fancy. One doesn't often have a chance to meet such people in anything like an intimate way."
Miss Helen was not disappointed in her expectations, for she did enjoy her visits. "The old priest is a dear," she reported, "and Señora Rodriguez is perfectly charming. I wish you could hear her broken English and see the way she uses her fan in those lovely slim hands of hers. As for the uncle he is a quiet, grave sort of man. He has found life a disappointment, I should imagine, for he has such a sombre face and never once smiled. However, they all had only good to say of Miss Garcia and I feel sure we shall make no mistake in engaging her."
"Then it is all settled, is it?" asked Nan eagerly.
"Yes, all settled, and you are to begin work to-morrow. Are you ready for it, girls?"
"I am. Are you, Mary Lee?" said Nan.
"I am when we are to have such a dear as that to teach us."
"I think we have found the kind you want, Nan," said Miss Helen with a smile. "I am sure we shall all respect Miss Garcia, and I am equally sure she will not let you walk over her."
"That's good," returned Nan. "You've done noble, Miss Helen, as Unc' Landy says," and she ran out to hunt up the twins and to tell them this important news. She was as much excited as Mary Lee and was usually much more romantic, yet, strange to say, it was Mary Lee who gave a doting affection to the new governess. Nan admired her immensely and felt the influence of her gentle dignity, but Mary Lee fell in love with her in that fond and foolish way that girls sometimes have. She was always at the gate to watch for her approach; she hoarded up dainties for her until her mother said she believed Mary Lee grudged the entire family anything specially good.
Miss Garcia accepted all these attentions with a grave graciousness, but was not spoiled by them. "She is just like a queen," said Mary Lee. "I'd love to dress her in silks and satins and shower jewels upon her. She dresses so very plainly. Do you suppose she hasn't any real nice things?"
"I don't suppose she has," returned Nan, to whom the remark was made. "She would look lovely in fine fixings, wouldn't she? I suppose her uncle is not well off, and he has a wife and children to support. I shouldn't wonder if they had had money though, for the other day she was speaking of the great estates the Spaniards used to have and told how they had lost them all. I should think they would hate the Americans."
"I reckon they do," said Mary Lee, "but my señorita doesn't hate us."
"Your señorita! You would suppose you had discovered her and then bought her," replied Nan in a vexed tone. "I declare, Mary Lee, you make me ill the way you go on, and I don't believe she cares for you any more than for the rest of us. I believe she is fondest of Jean, myself."
This was gall and bitterness to poor Mary Lee, who felt such jealous pangs as never before had she endured and which had the effect of sending her with a miserable countenance to the further end of the veranda when Miss de Garcia next came.
"Why do you retire so far from the ozzers?" asked the governess. "I cannot hear you so well."
Mary Lee edged a little nearer but sat gloweringly through the lesson hours. She kept her place, however, after the rest were free, and let her eyes linger on her teacher's head, bent over some exercises she was correcting. After a while the exercises were laid aside with a sigh and Miss de Garcia smiled upon her adoring pupil.
Mary Lee moved toward her. "Are you tired?" she said.
"A little; not too much. Have you somesin for me to explain to you?"
Mary Lee dropped a light kiss upon her teacher's bright hair. "I didn't wait for that," she said, then all the pain of her jealousy found relief in the words: "I love you so. May I call you Miss Dolores? It is such a beautiful name."
"Do you like it? My aunt was named so. If you like, yes. I do not object that you say Miss Dolores."
"It makes you seem nearer; it is not so distant and formal as Miss de Garcia, and I love you so much."
"I am pleased if you do," was the reply. "One finds not too many to love one as the years pass, as time rolls on."
"I don't see how any one could help loving you. I should think thousands would," said Mary Lee in the fulness of her devotion.
"My aunt did love me; my grandfazer, too; when I was a child in Mexico."
"Oh, did you live in Mexico?"
"I went many times to visit my grandfazer. He was at one time of California. A large ranch he had, cattle, sheep, horses, servants. Nothing is left." She sighed.
"Did the Americans take them from him?"
"Their coming made a difference. I know not if it was robbing as some say."
"I should think you would hate the Americans."
"I do not. No. My fazer was American."
"Oh, was he?"
"So I am told and that from him I have the hair and skin, but I do not bear his name."
"Oh, how queer. I mean, why not?" It was unusual to find Miss de Garcia in so expansive a mood, and Mary Lee hung upon her every word, proud of being made her confidante.
Miss de Garcia was silent a moment. "Because you love me I will tell you, though I do not say so much to strangers. I do not know my fazer's name. He died before I was born. My mozer died when I was a baby at her fazer's home in Mexico. I was given my aunt's name. I called her mamma and my uncle papa; he it is who is Garcia. They would not speak of my fazer; I know not why. My grandfazer did not like the marriage, was all my aunt would tell me."
"Oh, how Nan would revel in this romantic history," was Mary Lee's thought, though she only said, "Did you live long in Mexico?"
"No, I came to California with my aunt and uncle when they came. When I was sixteen I went to France with my aunt, who placed me in school; after I was in England one year, then I returned to see my aunt die, my grandfazer's estates wasted, my uncle in poverty and myself at last, as you might say homeless Now that my mozer's people are all gone, I wish if I might know some of my own blood, for my uncle who is kind is made more poor by another marriage to a widow who had children. I am alone." She said these last words so sadly that Mary Lee was seized with an overwhelming pity, and kneeling down showered kisses upon her hands. "You are not alone," she cried. "We love you; all of us do. Oh, if mother and Aunt Helen would only take you home with us you should never feel alone."
The tears rose to Miss de Garcia's eyes. "I have talked too much of myself," she said, "but it has done me good. It is my birthday and no one knew. You are very kind, very dear, to feel so sympathy for me; as the Spanish say, you are very friend to me. I shall not forget, Mary Lee, but I must go now."
"How I love to hear you roll your R's," said Mary Lee. "Please don't go just yet; wait till I come back."
She rushed off to her mother and aunt. "Mother, Aunt Helen," she cried, "can't we invite Miss Dolores to stay to dinner with us? It is her birthday and no one knows, and mayn't I make a birthday cake for her? I think I could if Nan would help me. Oh, please say yes. Won't you go right out, mother, and ask her to stay? I am so afraid she won't wait."
"Why, my dear," Mrs. Corner looked at her sister. "Certainly we shall be glad to ask her. Her birthday, did you say? Then I will order something extra."
"Do you suppose she will have to have tortillas and tamales and such things?" asked Mary Lee eagerly, turning to her aunt as her mother left the room.
"Nonsense," said Miss Helen. "You forget, Mary Lee, that she has lived in Paris and England, and is quite used to different dishes, beside there is no doubt but she will enjoy a change from frijoles negros and red pepper."
"Oh, I hope she'll stay," said Mary Lee, clasping her hands anxiously.
"I think she is going to," said Miss Helen, going to the window. "I see she is sitting down again. I must go out and talk to her. Go hunt up Nan, Mary Lee, and hurry up your cake or it will not get done in time for dinner, though perhaps after all it will not do to have it then; it will be piping hot, but we can save it for tea."
Mary Lee rushed off to find her sister, and presently they were at work in the little buttery which led out of the kitchen where Li Hung was at work. It would never have done to invade his kingdom, and when the girls wanted to prepare anything themselves they always took to the buttery, though Li Hung always smilingly allowed them to use the stove and was ready to help when they required his aid. Mary Lee was bubbling over with excitement. Her usual calmness had disappeared entirely under pressure of the occasion. She poured forth into Nan's willing ear the story she had heard from Miss Dolores. "Isn't it romantic?" she said at last, pausing to take breath.
"I should think so," returned Nan, briskly beating eggs. "Why, Mary Lee, it is just like Ramona. She was adopted by her aunt and didn't know her father's name and all that. Isn't it queer? Do you suppose she will marry an Indian like Allessandro? Dear me, it is just like a story."
"It isn't just like Ramona," said Mary Lee the literal, "for you know her father gave her to the Señora Ramona, who was no relation at all, and then she gave her to her sister, Felipe's mother. Besides her father was a Scotchman, not an American."
"Well, it is near enough alike," returned Nan, seeing things less in detail. "It must be very funny not to know who your father was. I wonder if he was a criminal or a gambler or had killed some one. You know what wild, lawless men used to come West in those days."
"Yes, they did at first I know, when the old forty-niners began to search for gold, but this was later, for Miss Dolores is only twenty-two."
"Well, but even then it wasn't like it is now. Mr. St. Nick said when he first came out here in 1880, Los Angeles was a very small place, the streets were not paved and most of the houses were of adobe, so it couldn't have been so awfully civilized."
"I shouldn't want to say that before Miss Dolores. Her people think the Americans have spoiled all the old elegance of the Spanish days."
"Why do you call her Miss Dolores? I think the señorita sounds much prettier; it makes her seem Spanish right off."
"But I think Dolores is so beautiful; it means sorrow, she told me once, and I think it seems more intimate to say Miss Dolores."
"Well, you may call her that, but I shall say señorita. Any one could be named Dolores, but no one would think of calling any but a Spanish lady señorita, just as you would say mademoiselle to a French woman. Take care, Mary Lee, you are putting in too much flour; the cook book says scant cups, not heaping ones."
"Oh, does it?" Mary Lee emptied out some of the contents of her over-full cup before she stirred the flour into the mixture.
"Now beat like mad," said Nan, "and here, let me put in some of the beaten whites of the eggs before you add more flour."
"Oh, I do hope it will be good," said Mary Lee watching her sister slide off some of the frothy heap into the cake bowl. "Did you tell Li Hung this was to be a birthday dinner?"
"No, but I will tell him." When she carried the cake out to put it in the oven she gave the information to the Chinaman, who looked pleased; he liked opportunities to try his powers.
"You likee I make plitty salad?" he asked. "Plitty flowel, plitty namee? You lite namee evlybody on paper, I makee him on salad."
"Oh, he's going to do something lovely," Nan told her sister when she returned to her. "He says he will watch the cake and take it out when it is done, but I think I shall have an eye to it, too. I have promised to write the names of all of us, but I think it will be better to print them. What would you say, Señorita de Garcia, or Señorita Dolores?"
"I suppose Señorita de Garcia would be more correct for a dinner," said Mary Lee after weighing the question.
Nan at once set to work to print out the names and was so interested in watching the baking of the cake and in the process of preparing the salad that she did not appear till dinner was about ready.
In the meantime Mary Lee had sought out the twins and had arrayed them and herself in festal garments. She had rummaged through her own belongings and had appealed to her mother and aunt so that each one had some gift to lay by Miss de Garcia's plate. The twins produced two souvenirs which they had bought in San Diego: a little box of orangewood and a paper cutter, Mrs. Corner contributed a small Indian basket, Miss Helen a pretty fan, and Nan, in desperation at being out of it all by remaining so long in the kitchen, dragged from her trunk a photograph of the old San Diego mission and tied it up hastily. Mary Lee sacrificed her beloved Venetian beads which she admired almost more than any of her possessions, yet nothing was too good for the señorita and she would have the pleasure of seeing her wear them.
Therefore, when the guest of honor was ushered to the table she was overpowered by the array before her. Tears came to her eyes and for a moment she could not speak, then when she did the Spanish words slipped between the English ones when she tried to express her thanks. "Amigas mias," she began—"my friends, you have made me glad, ashamed, muy felices—so happy. I cannot say my thanks. Mil gracias señoras, señoritas. Beso a sus manos de ustedes; I kiss your hands; I thank God for my good friends."
"We just loved to do it," exclaimed Jack anxious to put her at her ease, "and just see what a good dinner we are going to have because it is your birthday."
The laugh that followed took away every vestige of embarrassment, and when the wonderful salad was brought in every one was on sufficiently informal terms to think it no breach of etiquette to admire the yellow flowers of mayonnaise on green lettuce leaves which surrounded the red tomato centres, the red forming a good background for the ivory white lettering of the names.
"What are the letters made of?" whispered Jean to Jack.
"I know," said Nan from the other side; "they are cut out of the hard boiled whites of eggs."
The dinner certainly did Li Hung credit, and proved his claim to being equal to emergencies.
"I'd like to take him home with us," declared Miss Helen.
"I'd rather take Miss Dolores," remarked Mary Lee.
The cake was brought in later in the day when tea was served in the garden, winter though it was. To this cake Li Hung had added his own embellishments; it was frosted artistically and bore Miss de Garcia's name in tiny pink flowery letters. Miss Dolores declared it was too pretty to cut, yet all insisted that she should divide it, and Mary Lee flushed with pleasure when she and Nan were praised for being expert cake makers.
Under the warmth of love and friendship Miss Dolores became really joyous and told many tales amusing or pathetic. She confided to her friends that her uncle was going to remove to Mexico and that she thought she would not go with him, preferring to make her own living in the States. "I cannot be dependent," she said. "I shall be American and not be afraid. You have shown me that one need not fear to work, and if all are so good, so kind, so generous as you why should I hesitate?"
"When is your uncle going?" asked Mrs. Corner.
"Soon, two weeks, perhaps."
"And then where will you go to live?"
"I do not know. Some neighbors perhaps will give me room for little. I shall try to go where is protection and retirement."
"But why not come here to us? We have room to spare, and at any rate, during our stay here, we should be glad to have you, and in the meantime you can be making plans for your future."
The señorita's gratitude was pathetic, though she looked more of it than she spoke, and so to Mary Lee's great joy it was arranged that the señorita should take up her residence with the Corner family, a fortunate thing as time proved, for even the simple accident of dropping a handkerchief can change the manner of one's whole life.