When Governor Lehumada entered the drawing-room, he felt very much like a schoolboy who had been punished for not wanting to enter the parlor and be pleasant to callers. He was ashamed of himself, and tried to make amends for his actions by being more gracious than was necessary.
Miss Motuble mistook his gallantry and great hospitality for demonstrations of love, and after greeting the object of her affections, she sank into a chair close by, much overcome with emotions. She believed she had won a conquest. She was unable for some minutes to speak. Her face became red and white by turns, her breast heaved with great convulsions, while her hand trembled so violently that she had no power over the fan she was trying to move.
The Governor saw the condition she was in, and from the bottom of his heart he pitied her. The object of his heart’s desire affected him much the same way when he saw her. “But I need no sympathy,” he argued to himself, “for my love is reciprocated; my Helen is mine, and I am hers. It is the law of the inevitable. It could not be otherwise. Miss Motuble,” he continued, “is there any way in which I can serve you this morning? Can it be you are not well?”
The tone in which he addressed her, more than what he said, was the tonic Miss Motuble needed. She failed to hide her irritation, and sitting erect in a moment, her face, crimson with rage, said: “How can you serve me this morning? I need no assistance whatever, sir. I am neither in need of money or advice; on the other hand, I came to proffer certain valuable information I have recently obtained. I ferreted it out. I admit it cost me considerable time and expense, but I learned of the scorpion’s movements, as well as his entire pedigree. I have it all here—the written statements of many who knew him. He was not an opera singer in the life long past; he was a vocalist in a missionary choir, and he wafted his dulcet tones high and loud every Sunday for the edification of the congregation which, by the way, was very small. I know them all, the scorpions. Then to think I came here to tell you of my remembrances and the many written statements I have from others to aid you in your great experiments, and am approached by you as the aggressor, the one to whom a favor needs to be shown. No, Governor Lehumada; no, sir, I will not tolerate any such impudence even from you. I will not further state the object of my call. I now have the pleasure to bid you good morning.” She arose to her feet, and with one turn of her huge frame had swept past the Governor.
She had spoken so fast and so fiercely, after she came out of the half-crazed condition into which her great love and passion had thrown her, that the good Governor knew not what to do or what to say to quiet her. As she passed into the hall he called to her: “Miss Motuble, I pray you, my good young lady, to stay, if only for one moment. You do not understand me. I certainly am clumsy in my expressions. Dear miss, pardon me; if you have inferred a discourtesy by any remark I have made, pray, forgive me. You are a source of great wonder and delight to me, and carry a fund of valuable information.” He approached her, as she stood near Juan panting like a tiger at bay, and gently laying his hand upon her arm, said: “I am forgiven, am I not? I certainly never intentionally offend anyone, particularly a woman.”
She turned her face, full of shame and regret, to him, and with tears in her eyes, said: “Dearie, I am so lonely; you do care for me, don’t you? It is not true, as I suspected, that your whole love is centered in Helen Hinckley. Is it, dearie?”
With that she threw her massive arms around his neck with such great force, that his body swayed to and fro like a babe in the paws of a lion.
With her head on his shoulder, she sobbed: “Dear, dear Miguey, my dearie, forgive me for mistrusting you. I was frenzied with what I thought unrequited love. Great Revealer of Light, I thank you for making me see my mistake.” When her petition was ended she loosened her arms from around his neck. Governor Lehumada sank helplessly against the wall, and Juan sprang forward and exclaimed:
“Your Honor, the señorita has choked you.” He supported the Governor, and addressing Marriet Motuble, said: “You are accountable, miss, for the helpless condition of my master. You seem to remember too much.”
All the time he had spoken to her, his back was turned. Now, facing the place where she had stood, he said: “I take charge of the house, now that my master is unconscious, so, you git!” But to his great dismay she was gone.