“Talk of the angels, and you hear the clatter of their hoofs,” said Rosario; “there he is at the gate.”
“This awning is too low—we don't see people until they are upon us,” said Carlota.
“I am off. I suppose he will stay to lunch, that will give me all I want of his charming society,” said Rosario, rising to go as Clarence dismounted at the gate.
“Stay, he has seen us all; it would be discourteous to leave now,” said Doña Josefa, and Rosario remained.
Victoriano jumped out of the hammock to meet Clarence.
“Hallo, yourself and welcome! Any news?”
“Yes, big news,” Clarence replied, blushing crimson,—not at the news he brought, as one might have supposed,—but because he had just seen two little feet, in a tiny pair of slippers, with blue rosettes, which he well knew. These little blue rosettes had set his heart to beating, sending more than the normal amount of blood to his head.
On leaving her hammock to take a chair Mercedes had shown those tantalizing tip ends of her slippers, half hidden in a mass of lace ruffles. That was all, and yet poor Clarence was disconcerted, and became more and more so, on perceiving that there were not less than nine ladies on that veranda; nine pairs of eyes which had undoubtedly observed his own, devouring the blue rosettes.
“What is the news, pray? Don't kill us with suspense,” pleaded Miss Corina Holman.
“The news is that Colonel Scott has arrived at San Francisco, and will be in San Diego next week.”