"No! I met the mother afterwards in Altavilla and exchanged a remark with her," he gravely returned with assumed naturalness.
The greater part of the guests looked at him with a smile, and with an expression of reserved malice that surprised Fernanda. Only the two Señoritas de Meré and Garnet remained unconcerned without taking any notice of the conversation.
"But what godchild of yours are they talking about—of the baby adopted by the Quiñones?" asked the heiress of Estrada-Rosa of Maria Josefa.
"Yes."
"Well, then, how are they speaking of its mother?"
"Because these two have an evil tongue. God keep us from that!" returned the old maid, also smiling with malicious pleasure, and at the same time looking at the young girl with the pitiful kindness accorded to innocent creatures.
"But who do they suppose is its mother?"
"Who could it be?—Amalia!—Silence!" she added hastily, lowering her voice.
Fernanda was stupefied. The news was so new and surprising to her that she kept her eyes fixed on her friend as if she had not heard. In the excitement of the moment she had not heard the first words of Paco, but only thought it was a question of his being warm in his praise of the beauty of the child.
"It belongs to those it likens," murmured the Magpie of Sierra, with the same intentional malignity. "Yes, it is like its mother—and its father. Its father was a fine boy."