"But you've seen her; you have called at her house!"
"Sure! Twice; at the invitation of the old gentleman. All the little
Garavels were lined up like mourners."
"And you dined there last night. Is that all you have seen of her?"
"N-no! I've seen her at Las Savannas. That's why I went hunting so often."
At this confession, which Kirk delivered with sheepish reluctance, Mrs.
Cortlandt drew herself up with an expression of anger.
"Then this has been going on for some time," she cried. "Why, Kirk, you never told me!"
"Why should I?"
She flushed at this unconscious brutality, but after a moment ran on bravely; "Oh, well, I suppose any man would enjoy that sort of an adventure, particularly with such a pretty girl, but why did you let it go so far? Why did you let them commit you?"
"Am I committed?"
Her look was half offended, half incredulous. "Are you trying to be disagreeable, or is it possible you don't know the meaning of those invitations to call, and to dine with the family, and all that? Why, they expect you to MARRY her. It is all settled now, according to the Spanish custom. The whole town is talking about it, I can't understand, for the life of me, how you ever allowed yourself to go there the second time and to DINE." Seeing the look in his face, she cried, sharply, "You don't mean—that you're in earnest?" She was staring at him as if disbelieving her eyes.