“Why—why—I don’t know. I s’pose I forgot. Sutro—is Sutro. Don’t you know I told you ’bout him? He’s my body-servant, and as old as anything. But such a rider! There’s nobody in all San’ Felisa can beat him, ’cept Kentucky Bob an’ some more. Bless his heart! Bob’s, I mean. Bless everybody’s! For he’s come all these long three thousand miles to bring me my pretty piebald Tito. The Plunketty Lord said he should always be mine, case I ever went back; but those dear boys wouldn’t wait for that—no! I s’pose they saw that Tito was breaking his heart and s’posed I was mine; and so they paid all the money for Tito’s ticket, and hired him a beautiful cushioned horse-box, and sent Sutro to take care of him till he brought him safe to me. And—and—he’s—they’re never going away any more till I go, too. Oh, hola, hola! Aren’t you glad—glad—glad?”
If she were glad she did not so express herself; nor did Madam Calthorp’s countenance exhibit any emotion brighter than dismayed astonishment as she followed this strange child out of the room and out of the house, in order to be presented to two more intruders.
“Sutro, Caballero Don Sutro Vives, this is my beautiful Madam Grandmother. And Tito—my sweet!”
“I have the honor to kiss thy feet, Señora,” said the old Spaniard, bowing profoundly.
For a moment Madam regarded him with admiring curiosity. As a “type” of that race which she had read of in history, a race that was fast dying out, he interested her, and for that reason she was glad to see him; and the caballero, lifting his eyes from the ground, beheld only the pleasure, and did not question its cause. “The Doña Steenie says truly, Madam; the Señora is beautiful,—as the snows on the Sierras. May the humblest of her slaves beg her gracious favor?”
Such language was new to Old Knollsboro, though to Steenie’s ears it was as familiar and as meaningless as the ordinary salutations of the day to other folk; and she interrupted any reply which Madam might have made by seizing that lady’s hand and placing it on Tito’s flowing mane. “Isn’t it fine and white,—whiter and softer than the freshest fleece ever sheared? And see the pretty, pretty markings all over his body! Lift your foot, my Tito. One—two—three—four! One—two—three—four! Isn’t that a fine action? And his haunches! See how strong and shapely. And his lovely tail, set straight and free! And his darling neck! Oh, my Tito, I love you! I love you!”
Madam Calthorp was speechless. Not only was she amazed, but she was touched. She had never seen anything like this. It was as if a twin had found its mate; and the exchange of sentiment between the two young creatures was too evident for even her untrained eyes to ignore. Steenie was not one whit more glad than Tito; nor did she express her emotion more clearly. The animal’s velvet nostrils moved everywhere about the curly head and bobbing shoulders of his recovered mistress, with an exquisite gentleness of touch she could not have believed possible in “only a horse.” There was adoring delight in the great brown eyes which followed Steenie’s every motion, and seemed blind to all else; and when Sutro had unfastened the stable door, the loving pair went joyfully away together, her arm about his neck, bent proudly to receive it.
“My-soul-I-declare!”
This ejaculation, in the harshest utterance of Mr. Resolved Tubbs, broke in upon this pretty scene with the force of an explosion. It cleared the air of undue sentiment, and recalled Madam Calthorp to a sense of her position and its consequences. Here she had not only received these unwelcome intruders, but allowed them to believe that she was glad to do so! She must right the mistake at once.
“Ahem, Mr. Sutro, I mean Vives, I think it would be better to take that animal directly to the livery stable. I do not keep a horse, and should not be willing to let Steenie. As for yourself, while your devotion is touching, I think you can find more comfortable quarters at the village than I can give you. This man—Tubbs, will you show this old gentleman the way to the American House?”