“I don’t know whether her hair is auburn or not. She wears a shawl over her head. She is in deep mourning and looks very neat. Her appearance is greatly in her favor.”
“Well, well, well! Esclavita Lamas! Who would have thought it! Yes, she is, as we say in our part of the country, very demure, very mannerly; she talks so soft and low that at times you can scarcely hear her. She smells a hundred leagues off of the sacristy and of incense. A little saint!”
“Who would have thought it!”
Doña Aurora was more discouraged than was reasonable by this preamble; she resolved, however, to disguise her feelings and to find out the truth, the whole truth, even though it should grieve her to the heart to hear any ill of the girl, in whom she was deeply interested.
“So that you know her very well?” she said.
“Heavens! As well as I know my own fingers. Indeed I know her! Lamas Tarrío was a great friend of the family even while he was in the other parish in the mountains before papa presented him for Vimieiro. He always lived in our house, and he was very fond of making presents. What lard, what cheese, what eggs at Easter and what capons at Christmas he used to give us! Papa thought a great deal of him, for in the mountains he took charge of the collecting of the rents. In short, he was devoted to us. He was indebted to papa, too, for a great many favors, important favors, Doña Aurora.”
“Well, what I want to know is what relates to the girl. If her antecedents are good, and I can admit her into my house, I shall be glad of it. I am not satisfied with Pepa, and I have taken a liking to this girl.”
Rita Pardo smiled maliciously, as she smoothed out the lace of her left sleeve, a little crumpled with use. She arched her eyebrows, and made a grimace difficult of interpretation.
“Um! Good antecedents may mean much or little, as you know. What is good for one is only middling for another. In that matter, some people are more particular than others. If the girl pleases you so much——”