"Well, many white people had midday meal at Señor Mendoza's. Padre Osuna did not go, though he was invited. You see, our padre and the señor speak when they meet, and seem friendly, but——"
"O, Marta, I don't want to hear about that. Tell what was said about me at the meal."
"Don't want to hear—don't want to hear," repeated the matrona. "Well, I shall say nothing at all, if I'm not to speak my own way."
"Go on, Marta," cried several, nearly as eager as Pepita.
The matrona enjoyed their impatience for a while, affecting to be very busy over her loom. At last—
"At that midday meal Señorita Carmelita said she had heard you, Pepita, sing, and liked your voice as well as Modesta's; that she would soon need a new lady's maid and liked your appearance. Then, Señorita Galindo said she once had you for lady's maid, but sent you back to the neophyte house, because you listened at keyholes and talked too much."
"I did not. I did not," asserted Pepita.
"What did you do, then?" queried Marta.
"I didn't do anything."
"But thy tongue, vixen, is often loose, as if hung in the middle, to wag at both ends. Come now, what didst thou say when thou talkedst too much?"