"One would think you were a long-lost brother, from the way that woman stared," she remarked. "One would think she would show more restraint when riding in state beside the bishop, and with her husband opposite."
Keith recovered himself and turned his attention to her.
"Was that Rafael Arteaga's wife?" he asked, carelessly. "I supposed it was, but have not had the honor of being presented."
"Well, they told me she would not notice heretics, but one heretic was the only person she noticed in this carriage. How she looked at you! I told you she had nasty staring eyes, like augers boring through one. Did you see, Doña Maria? Did you not fear she would disgrace us all by leaping into the carriage?"
Doña Maria's black, bead-like eyes were regarding the young man curiously.
"It may be a custom of Mexico for ladies to show attention to strange men in that way," she observed, guardedly. "It may be so. I had never heard of it. The new lady of the Mission is teaching San Juan many new things, but I do not think she will teach it that sort of manners. They do not compare well with the American ladies' manners—no?"
"I fancy it was only as your escort she was gracious enough to turn and look at me; she might have fancied I was known to her. She looks very young."
"You would forget she was young if you heard her talk to the padre," returned Doña Maria, significantly. "It was enough to bring a malediction on all our heads to listen to it!"
"The bishop has forgiven her; at least it looks so."
"Oh, she is clever! He thinks she is a saint, this bishop. But the padre knows!"