The Senora turned a look of apparently undisguised amazement on him. “You would not think that best, would you? Did you not say that all we could do, was simply not to interfere with her in any way? To wash our hands, so far as is possible, of all responsibility about her?”
“Yes, yes,” said the baffled Felipe; “that was what I said. But, mother—” He stopped. He did not know what he wanted to say.
The Senora looked tenderly at him, her face full of anxious inquiry.
“What is it, Felipe dear? Is there anything more you think I ought to say or do?” she asked.
“What is it you are going to do, mother?” said Felipe. “I don't seem to understand what you are going to do.”
“Nothing, Felipe! You have entirely convinced me that all effort would be thrown away. I shall do nothing,” replied the Senora. “Nothing whatever.”
“Then as long as Ramona is here, everything will be just as it always has been?” said Felipe.
The Senora smiled sadly. “Dear Felipe, do you think that possible? A girl who has announced her determination to disobey not only you and me, but Father Salvierderra, who is going to bring disgrace both on the Moreno and the Ortegna name,—we can't feel exactly the same towards her as we did before, can we?”
Felipe made an impatient gesture. “No, of course not. But I mean, is everything to be just the same, outwardly, as it was before?”
“I supposed so,” said the Senora. “Was not that your idea? We must try to have it so, I think. Do not you?”