Doña Catalina threw up her head and went into the house to fetch the girl; and soon she came, a dainty little thing with black eyes that snapped, and black hair that was wound around her head in a great coil, and dainty little feet that peeped from beneath skirts of bright hue.
"I am happy to see you again, Don Diego," she said.
He bowed over her hand and assisted her to one of the chairs.
"You are as beautiful as you were when I saw you last," he said.
"Always tell a señorita that she is more beautiful than when you saw her last," groaned Don Carlos. "Ah, that I were young again and could make love anew!"
He excused himself and entered the house, and Doña Catalina moved to the other end of the veranda, so that the pair could talk without letting her hear the words, but from where she could watch, as a good dueña always must.
"Señorita," Don Diego said, "I have asked your father this morning for permission to seek you in marriage."
"Oh, señor!" the girl gasped.
"Do you think I would make a proper husband?"
"Why, I—that is—"