Meanwhile, the young ladies have descended from the azotea, and the ex-man-o’-war’s man makes their acquaintance.
They assist in showing him hospitality, loading him with pretty presents, and knick-knacks to be carried on board the Condor, to which they know he now belongs.
As he is about to depart, they flutter around him, speaking pleasant words, as if they expected to get something in return—those billetitas. For all, he takes departure, without leaving them a scrap!
A pang of disappointment—almost chagrin—shoots through the soul of Carmen, as she sees him passing out of sight. And similarly afflicted is Iñez; both reflecting alike.
Still they have hope; there may be something enclosed for them in that letter they saw him holding up. It seemed large enough to contain two separate notes. And if not these, there should at least be a postscript with special reference to themselves.
Daughters of Eve, they are not long before approaching the subject, and drawing Don Gregorio.
Yes; there is something said about them in the letter. He communicates it:
“Parting compliments to the señoritas!”