"He says I am too young to know my own mind, and—perhaps that is true, Senor Antonio; perhaps I shall soon forget you and learn to love Ramon as he loves me, I do not know—"
In spite of the pathetic quaver in her voice, Kirk cried with jealous bitterness:
"You don't seem to object very strongly; you seem to care about as much for Alfarez as you do for me. Is that it?"
"Yes, senor," she said, bravely.
"You are lying!" declared Stephanie, suddenly.
The girl burst into a perfect torrent of weeping that shamed him. Then, without any invitation, she flung herself recklessly into his arms and lay there, trembling, palpitating like an imprisoned bird. "Forgive me, dear," he exclaimed, softly. "I knew better all the time. You mustn't think of doing what they ask; I won't allow it." His own heart-beats were shaking him, and he hardly knew what he was saying. The sight of her grief maddened him. It was as if they had taken advantage of his helpless little maid to hurt her maliciously, and his indignation blazed forth. She looked up with eyes gleaming through her tears and said, brokenly:
"Senor, I love you truly. You see, I cannot lie."
Her breath intoxicated him, and he bent his head to kiss her, but Stephanie tore her roughly from his arms. The woman showed the strength of a man, and her vulture-like face was working fiercely as she cried:
"No! She is mine! She is mine! She is a good girl."
"Stephanie! She loves me, don't you see?"