“It won't do to look at Clarence through such swollen orbs. You had better let Tano give you one of his graphic accounts of the battle of Alamar, as he calls Darrell's performance, and make you laugh.”
“No, I couldn't laugh. I wouldn't if I could.”
“Very well. To sleep is the best for you.”
He kissed her and soon after he and Gabriel went on their way. They quickly overtook the herders, who were driving the lot of cattle which had started at daylight. The Don was confident of returning at sundown, and glad to leave Mercedes more contented and hopeful, he rode away cheerfully.
CHAPTER XXVII.—Darrell Astonishes Himself.
Mercedes felt so comforted by what her father had said, that in less than ten minutes after he left she was sleeping like the good child that she was. Madam Halier watched her slumbers, coming to the door every few minutes. And when she had slept and felt refreshed, she had a bath and a luncheon of tea, cold chicken, fresh peaches with cream, and fresh grapes just cut from the vines; then she was ready to dress herself and take up her embroidery. She was afraid her eyes would yet be too swollen for her to go into the parlor or veranda, and perhaps meet George or Mr. Mechlin. So she stayed in her room.
But she was missed, and George came to knock at her door, and being asked to come in, he did so, making a profound bow. Then counting on his fingers as he spoke, began:
“Doña Josefa, Doña Beatrice, Doña Carlota, Doña Rosario, Doña Elvira, Doña Carolina, Doña Elizabeth, all request the pleasure of your company at a canning performance to take place this afternoon in the kitchen of Doña Beatrice.”
Mercedes laughed, asking: “Are they really going to do the canning? Who knows about it?”
“They all know, theoretically, but as to practice, that ‘quién sabe.’ However, they are going to peal peaches by the bushel this evening, so they will all dine there.”