"Yes, I have come far, Aneta. I should like a little something." It did not occur to Agueda to decline because of the Señora's rudeness. She had never heard of any one's being refused food at any hut, rancho, or casa in the island. The stranger was always welcome to what the host possessed, poor though it might be.
"I will not dismount," said Agueda. "Perhaps you can hand me a cup of coffee through the window." Agueda rode close to the opening. Aneta laid her dish down on the table, and went to the stove, from which she took the pot of the still hot coffee. She poured out a cupful, and handed it to Agueda.
"Some sugar, please," said Agueda, holding the cup back again. Aneta dipped a spoon in the sugar bowl which was standing on the table in its pan of water. It was a large pan, for "there are even some ants who can swim very well," so Aneta declared. Agueda took the cup gratefully, and drained it as only a girl can who has ridden many miles with no midday meal.
"I hoped that I should be asked to breakfast, Aneta," said Agueda, wistfully. She remembered the time when she had sat at the table with Aneta, and partaken of a pleasant meal.
"I can hand you some cassava bread through the window, Agueda," said Aneta, with no further explanation.
She took from the cupboard a large round of the cassava and handed it to Agueda. Agueda broke it eagerly and ate hungrily.
"That is good, Aneta. Some more coffee, please."
Aneta took up the pot to pour out a second cup.
"And who told you that you might give my food away?"