Her little mocking laugh made more pointed her intention of ridicule. The face of Raquel was still and expressionless, as she slowly placed the last of the candles in the perfumed box and closed the lid. Ana flung down her embroidery, and said to Raquel, with blazing eyes:
"Raquelita! Some day I shall choke that pretty little white devil, you will see! How and why we endure her mocking I don't know. That she is of Keith Bryton's family is something, but it is not enough. When he is able I shall tell him some things—I shall tell Don Eduardo things! She makes a mock of our women, and I keep quiet; she makes her love to your husband, and I say nothing; but, Raquel, she makes mockery of your religion in your own house. Can you stand that too?"
Raquel put her hands over her eyes an instant in a tired way.
"Quiet, you, Anita mia," she said after a little. "Words are not so much use. They will go away soon now—after the dance to-morrow night. And I do not think it is true of Rafael. He is her caballero, as he would be yours or Juanita's; that is all. There is that other woman in the willows. She—"
"Raquelita, how little you know men! Pretty Marta by the river is only a servant; but our men go mad for these white women of blue eyes—mad!"
"A few days more, and that will be forgotten as he would forget the brown girls. Have patience. At least, she will not mock our religion to him; and the rest—it is only one day and two nights more, Anita, and you will help me."
"At least you will find a way to keep those pearls from her," insisted Ana, stubbornly. "How could you offer them to her? Oh, I could have screamed at you!"
"The pearls are but a trifle to let go for a night, dear. Help me with the candles to the altar-place. Oh, yes, she may have the pearls."