“I was detained in town about that business of Don Gabriel, but it is all arranged. He can take his place at the bank now, whenever he wishes, or wait until the 1st of October; it will be kept for him. Then I had my own business about the mine. That is all right, too. I only wish that things had gone on as well at home.”
“So do I, but it has been awful. Retty told you.”
“Yes, I know it all now.”
“Unfortunately I did not tell him father's insulting remarks about Miss Mercedes,” sadly observed Everett.
“Yes, had I known that, I would not have gone into the house. But I went, and father had the satisfaction of saying it to me himself; and on my telling him what I thought about it, he expressed himself willing that I should take myself off. So here I am, driven from home, and I came to ask you for a bed to-night, as I am very tired.”
“And hungry, too. Father spoiled his supper with his courteous remarks,” added Everett.
“Come, my dear boy; no one is more welcome to this whole house,” Victoriano said, with true Spanish hospitality, much intensified by present circumstances. “Come; father will soon be here. At present, Mercedes, Madame Halier Milord and myself only are at home. Mother and the rest are at the Mechlins. Come in; come, Retty.”
“No. I'll say good-by to Clary now and walk home.”
“But this is awful,” Victoriano said, as if beginning to realize the situation. “For Heaven's sake, where are you going? And why must you go?”
“I will not if Mercedes does not send me away. If she does, I shall go first to San Francisco, and thence God only knows where,” was Clarence's reply.