“If you find no one else I shall go with you.”
The red spots spread down to her throat, but she lifted her head higher. “No,” she said, “I suppose it does not look right.”
He cursed Mrs. Moulton for shattering the serene innocence of the girl; nevertheless, something even more captivating had replaced it. “I shall go,” he repeated, “unless I can persuade you to return to America with your relatives. Then my mind will be at rest. But as long as you are alone in Spain I shall do my best to protect you. If you forbid me to travel with you, well and good. I shall merely follow—that is to say, be your companion on the trains. In the towns we need not meet unless you wish it. You can always put yourself under the protection of the woman of the house and employ a duenna. But do adopt me as a brother and dismiss all nonsensical ideas from your mind.”
For the first time her eyes fell before his. She turned away abruptly. “You are very good,” she said. “Come up-stairs and meet the señora and her daughter. They are charming people.”
A few moments later, as they were standing on the balcony, she said to him: “They are taking me to the bull-fight this afternoon. Shall you go?”
“Possibly. But I am surprised that you wish to go. It is a beastly exhibition and no place for you.”
“I am going,” she said, imperturbably. “It is a part of Spain, and I should as soon think of missing a religious festival like this. Besides, I have seen bull-fights in southern California. You may as well come with us. Of course, Cousin Lyman is not going.”
“Probably not. Very well, I will go with you, if your friends will have me. I must lunch at the hotel with the Moultons and set their minds at rest; but it is an hour until then. Would you care to walk about the streets and see the crowd?”
The Señora Villéna was very large and the day was warm, but she amiably consented to walk as far as the cathedral in the wake of her guest.
“I have not been out alone since I came to her,” said Catalina, with a sigh, as she walked beside Over up the street. “At Granada I know of a pension, and liberty will be sweet again.”