Rosebud jumped up quickly, saying, “I will bring you fresh water;” so she ran down to the spring at the foot of the garden, and there she met the faithful old Miguel—who had been in the family for years before she was born, and loved the young señoritas as though they were his own children.
Rosebud caught him by the arm, and whispered:—“Have the horses at the back garden-gate to-night at nine o’clock, you dear old Miguel, for you shall take us to the consul’s ball.”
“But the señor?” said the old servant, in astonishment.
“Never mind the señor, you dear, careful man.”
“But the duenna?” he continued.
“Never mind! never mind! I tell you I will go! so be sure you are ready in time,” said Rosebud, laughing, and shaking her finger as she ran away.
Poor old Miguel was in a great dilemma. He loved the pretty señoritas, and wanted to help them; but he feared the señor.
“It may cost me my place; and in this family I have lived, and here I would die; but my pretty children are so lonely, it is too bad to shut them up—and old Miguel will not fail them.”
Thus his fond love for the fair girls he had carried in his arms in their helpless infancy, conquered his discretion; and he went to the stable to groom the horses.
Rosebud brought the water—clear, cool, and sparkling—to the old duenna, and she drank it eagerly in her thirst, little dreaming of the sleep-charm the gay young señorita had dropped into the cup.