"I am at your feet, señorita," said Bryton, with kindly deference. "Now, Mrs. Bryton, if you have no other—romances—to elaborate and embellish, perhaps you will allow me to see you to your carriage, before I start for Los Angeles. Don Rafael is detained by us when he should be on his way south, and—"
"Oh—I beg—" began Rafael, but Madalena interrupted.
"Not another moment must we stay. Aunt Teresa will scold us well for this!"
"For taking pity on a lonely bachelor?" asked Rafael.
"Lonely?" repeated Dolores. "We will come again when the bride comes. Until then we leave you to prepare your soul with this—and this!"
She motioned to the decanter, and picked up the scarlet fan of Mercedes.
"You cruel one! You would make Doña Angela think—but do not think it, madama! I assure you, it is my mother's—or my aunt's—or—"
"He never had an aunt," laughed Madalena. "Come, Uncle Ricardo, Doña Maxima wants you at home; she is at our house saying things to make your ears burn."
"Sure!" said Don Ricardo, getting on his feet and taking the cane offered him. "But it is in honor of Doña Luisa Arteaga I am here. When her son makes gay company, it is the time for the steady friends of the family to stay by. So I am here, Madalena mia; and I shall say to my wife I was here all the evening, right here at this table as a respectable friend, and won seventy pesos!"
"Sure, he did," assented Don Antonio. "But it is over! The sun is up, it is good time to go home."