She responded to his formal bow, and then would have taken Señora Vallejo by the arm and led the way into the guest house, but found it impossible, for the new-comer stepped forward quickly and took her hand and bent and kissed it.
“In all the length of El Camino Real, señorita,” he said, “I am sure there is not as much grace and beauty as I find here and now in this one little spot. The sight of you is worth a journey of hundreds of miles.”
And then, before she guessed what he intended, he had bent forward swiftly and pressed a kiss upon her cheek. The red flamed in her face and throat, and Señora Vallejo gasped in dismay and Señor Lopez looked surprised, but the men and women of the mission cheered.
Up the steps and into the guest house they made their way, while the caballero, down by the creek, turned to enter the teepee. The smile was gone from the caballero’s face now; his eyes were narrowed as if he were thinking deeply. And so he took stock of his rival, who had gained the first kiss, although it was no better than a stolen one.
In the guest house there was a welcoming feast, because the old señor’s heir was just off the highway and fatigued, with the new-comer sitting at the head of the table presiding with as much dignity as old Señor Fernandez at his rancho ever had.
Señorita Anita was at his right hand, Señora Vallejo at his left; four frailes sat at table, and Señor Lopez contented himself with a place at the foot of it, looking upon the others with a solemn face, like a man bowed under the heavy responsibilities of a big business. He was wondering whether the old señor’s heir would retain him as manager.
Señora Vallejo yearned for news of San Francisco de Asis, where once she had been a toast, and was accommodated with a rambling story of the doings of persons of quality there. Señor Lopez spoke of the old branches of the Fernandez and Rocha families, and thought nothing of it when the subject was changed adroitly, for he knew that the Rocha branch had fallen upon evil days the past two generations, and retained little of their once great fortune, though they retained their stiff pride.
Anita, now smiling, and laughing at times, watched the guest keenly, trying to estimate him, and found herself puzzled. Old wine was opened by one of the frailes, and she saw the man at the head of the table drink long and deeply. Little by little his dignity and poise slipped from him. His laugh became louder and not so merry, for there was sarcasm in the sound of it. His jests too, were not strictly in accordance with good taste.
Señora Vallejo bit her lips and frowned; the face of Lopez remained inscrutable—for who was he to question the conduct of the old señor’s heir? But little Anita Fernandez, excusing herself prettily, arose and left the table, to go to a window and stand there looking out across the plaza, with dread in her heart, a feeling she neither could understand nor explain.
For some time she stood there with her back to the table, biting her red lips, watching the neophytes going about their work, and then she heard the others get up, and turned to see the old señor’s heir stagger toward her.