"Thou art tired, of course, and choked with the dust; a desert wind blew to-day! And who was your pretty señorita? Don Juan Alvara and I could not agree; he said it could not be the cousin of Don Eduardo, or she would certainly have accepted the very kind invitation he gave her to live here while waiting for her relations."
"Invitation?" Rafael looked quickly from one to the other. "I am very sure Señora Bryton failed to receive your invitation. She confessed herself in despair if her cousin should not be here on her arrival."
"But Señor? Bryton was told to bring her here."
"Oh—h!" He was silent a moment and then he smiled reassuringly. "I see how it is! He thinks she will remain over only one day and does not like to put you to trouble; but the poor lady down there alone is no doubt very uncomfortable—perhaps unhappy. If your daughters could call and see her—I would accompany them. In fact, for the cousin of Don Eduardo I will do anything I may be allowed to do."
"Sure," agreed Alvara; "it is the right thing for a lady to ask her;—if only Dolores and Madalena have not ridden to the beach—"
He went into the house to see, and Teresa looked at Rafael and shrugged her shoulders.
"Thou hast told a part, but not all, my Rafael," she said, quietly. "Is the so good Señor Bryton not so good at last? Does he want his brother's wife to see only himself?"
"You don't like him?" he said, quickly.
"Well—if not?"
"Then we could play him a fine trick—fine! He is jealous, that is all. She rode down with me, and of course, when I learned who she was, we talked—you saw! Well, our Americano likes to be the only man. He means to send her away to-morrow,—he is so angry because she marry his brother! Of course she goes, unless we keep her. It would be a good trick to play if we could walk down there, and—"