The señora's laugh was merry as she said: "A wise puss you are. Well, this generous, free-for-all kindness is good, but not entirely satisfactory. Each person has an ideal, and when we see that ideal realized in some concrete person we want that person to be good to us alone. Do you not agree, señorita?"
"It would be presuming in me to contradict the señora."
"Ah! I said you are a wise puss, my señorita; and so you are, very wise. Well, wisdom is the heritage of our old Castilian families. Truly, our fathers have thought of much and have done much in the generations that have been lived. What wonder if the rich, pure gold of experience falls to us, the heirs of the past, from the melting-furnace of departed years. What think you, little lady?"
"Your thoughts rise above me, Señora Valentino."
The señora laughed and bowed, as if in acceptance of some compliment.
The peona Modesta appeared in the doorway, curtseying several times. "May I speak, señorita doña?"
"Speak, Modesta."
"The post surgeon from San José is here to see the wounded soldiers in our infirmary. He wishes to leave some directions with you."
"What soldiers does the peona mean, señorita?"
"Some disabled men Captain Morando left with us the other day."