"Will the senora pardon me for beseeching her attention to an affair of great moment which has brought us to her presence?"
The "senora" lifted her long, curled lashes until they touched her brows, and opened wide her large, soft, dark eyes in childish wonder. "An affair of great moment!" What could it be? A masked ball? a parlor concert? private theatricals? a—what? She could not imagine. Dropping her eyelids demurely, she answered softly:
"Proceed, senor."
Ishmael then briefly explained to her the business upon which they had come.
The senora was as sensible as she was beautiful, and as benevolent as she was sensible. She listened to the story of the negroes' abduction with as much sympathy as curiosity, and at the end of the narrative she exclaimed:
"What villains there are in this world!"
Ishmael then delicately referred to their wish to purchase the girl
Sally.
The senora promptly assented to the implied desire.
"It was my steward, Miguel Manello, who bought her for me. I did not particularly want her. And I find her of very little use to me. She cannot understand one word that is said to her. And she does nothing from morning until night but weep, weep, weep tears enough to float away the house."
"Poor girl!" muttered Ishmael.