"More likely to bed," remarked Madalena, skeptically.
"Señorita!"
"Sh—h!" whispered Dolores, with lifted hand. "The carriage; they are in the plaza!"
She rushed out, and the others followed. Teresa was there greeting Doña Luisa; but all fell suddenly silent as they noticed the gray-white of the old face, and the frail figure as she descended from the carriage with the help of Fernando Mendez and Ana—his cousin's widow.
Fernando cast one glance at the girl who sat her horse and glanced over their heads for the face she did not see.
A wizened old Indian woman alighted from a cart and came to her and touched her foot on the stirrup.
"It is your new land, little mistress," she said, in a tongue not understood by the others, "the land of your handsome lover."
The girl looked again across the many faces gathering in the plaza, and then accepted the help of Don Antonio to alight.
"But he is not here, Polonia—the handsome lover," she returned, and then walked past all the others and slipped her hand under the arm of Doña Luisa.
"A thousand welcomes, señora," said Fernando, at the portal. "The town will rejoice to-day."