The head rose again, startled eyes, big and brown, staring from the glass. “Do you—really think so?”
“What do you expect—a nice boy like that to mope and pine for the rest of his life with ten million girls of marriageable age running loose in the United States? What brought him here, anyway—bolting to escape one girl’s noose. Take my advice and rope him quick.”
“But I’m promised, now, to Ramon.”
“Call it off.”
“Oh no.” Sitting up straight, she shook her head. “I cannot ruin his life.”
“Hum!” The widow coughed. “You cannot ruin his life? So you intend to bless it by devoting to his service affections that belong to another? Also to cut him off from the greatest thing in the world—the real love of some other woman? Ruin his life, indeed? Lee, I always credited you with a little sense.”
“There is something in that.” She snatched at the hope. “The best thing is to tell him I don’t love him and leave it to him to decide.”
“And he’ll do it, have no fear!” The widow tossed her head. “Ramon’s nice, but he cannot rise above his race, and you know very well there’s neither reason nor justice nor the instinct of fairness in it. Fancy a Mexican giving up a girl because she loves another! He’d resent even the suggestion, take his revenge after marriage.”
The gleam of hope had died. She sighed. “I can try.”
“Oh, you little fool!” In her irritation the widow bestowed a smart slap on the girl’s shoulder. But she spoiled the moral effect the next second by gathering her in her arms. “Don’t you know that up in the States girls take on a new beau every Saturday night and break the engagement the following Sunday?”