Mr. Hamlin asked, "When?"
"That dreadful earthquake on the 8th."
Mr. Hamlin, reflecting that the appearance of Grace Conroy was on the 10th, assented again abstractly.
"Ah, yes! so sad! And yet, perhaps, for the best. You know the poor girl had a hopeless passion for her legal adviser—the famous Arthur Poinsett! Ah! you did not? Well, perhaps it was only merciful that she died before she knew how insincere that man's attentions were. You are a believer in special Providences, Mr. Hamlin?"
Mr. Hamlin (doubtfully): "You mean a run of luck?"
Donna Maria (rapidly, ignoring Mr. Hamlin's illustration): "Well, perhaps I have reason to say so. Poor Donna Dolores was my friend. Yet, would you believe there were people—you know how ridiculous is the gossip of a town like this—there are people who believed that he was paying attention to ME!"
Mrs. Sepulvida hung her head archly. There was a long pause. Then Mr. Hamlin called faintly—
"Pete!"
"Yes, Mars Jack."
"Ain't it time to take that medicine?"