Previous to the Mexican revolution, the most ardent wish of a young Creole lady was to obtain for a husband some new arrival from the mother country—Spain. Gertrudis, nevertheless, had more than once declined this honour, which Marianita, as we have seen, had accepted. Why did the Doña Gertrudis form an exception to the general rule? The sequel will show.
We have presented these two young girls in the act of making their toilet; we may add, that these preparations were in view of the arrival of two gentlemen who were that evening expected. One was the young Spaniard, the betrothed lover of Marianita; the other Don Rafael Tres-Villas, Captain in the Queen’s Dragoons. The former lived within less than two leagues of the hacienda Las Palmas, and might be expected at any moment—the other, having two hundred to travel, could scarce be looked for with equal punctuality; for although he had sent positive word that he would arrive on that evening, it was reasonable to suppose that upon such a long journey some incident might arise to derange his calculations. Was this uncertainty the reason why Gertrudis had scarce commenced making her toilet, while Marianita had finished hers? Was Don Rafael the only man in whose eyes Gertrudis cared to appear beautiful? We shall presently know.
One of the daily cares of a young Creole lady is to take down the abundant plaits of her hair, and combing out the separate tresses, leave them hanging over her shoulders, so that the air may circulate freely among them. As soon as the attendant of Gertrudis, charged with this duty in the present instance, had accomplished her task, she passed out of the chamber, and the two sisters were left alone.
There are certain subjects of conversation which young girls, of whatever country, love only to talk of between themselves, and in their own private apartment.
Scarce had the servant closed the door behind her, than Marianita—who had just finished placing some pomegranate flowers behind her tortoiseshell comb—glided eagerly towards the window. On reaching it she stood for some moments with her eyes bent inquiringly on the plain. Gertrudis had changed her oriental posture for a seat upon a leathern fauteuil. After casting back, by an indolent movement of her arms, the dark masses of her hair, she delivered herself up to a silent reverie.
“I have examined the plain with all my eyes,” said Marianita after a while spent at the window; “it appears entirely deserted. I cannot see a human creature upon it, much less Don Fernando, or Don Rafael. Santissima! I fear I have had all this trouble for nothing; in half an hour it will be sunset.”
“You need not be uneasy. Don Fernando will come,” said Gertrudis, in a calm voice.
“Ah!” exclaimed Marianita, “one might tell by the tone in which you speak that you are not expecting your novio (betrothed), as I am. My very impatience makes me despair of seeing him. Ah! Gertrudis, you have never experienced the emotion of love.”
“Were I in your place I should feel more chagrin than impatience.”
“Chagrin, oh! no; if Don Fernando don’t choose to come this evening, he will lose the pleasure of seeing me in this beautiful white dress which he admires so much, and with these purple pomegranates in my hair, which I put in just to please him. For my part I prefer the white blossoms of the orange; but they say that a woman when married must make some sacrifices, and I may as well accustom myself to them.”