"What a lot of packages!" said Rosa, on seeing all the bundles tied up with such care.
"Shall I help you open them?" said my father. "Let us see what's in this first package. My, my, what's this? White grapes! And of the finest kind! You certainly have got good taste. I'll say that much, Paula!"
"They are for Catalina, uncle."
"For Catalina?"
"Yes, uncle dear."
Now there was not a sign of derision in my father's voice. It had changed to a surprising tenderness as he said, "So you bought this for our Catalina? I know the cost of such fruit, and Teresa should not have consented."
"And do you think, sir," broke in Teresa, "that when Paula wants to buy something, that she asks for my consent? You will soon be able to judge that for yourself. I never saw her equal."
"And this?" questioned Rosa, taking up the package of souvenir cards.
Paula indicated the destination of each one as she gave the name and address of many of her old neighbors in far-away Villar.
"So you don't forget your old friends," observed my father.