Pepita returned bringing the supper in her hands, followed by a maid. Doña María watched her over the top of her book as she would have watched a visitor from Heaven. Pepita tiptoed about the room laying the table and whispering directions to her assistant.
"Your supper is ready, My Lady," she said at last.
"But, my child, you are going to eat with me?" In Lima Pepita generally sat down at the table with her mistress.
"I thought you would be tired, My Lady. I had my supper downstairs."
"She does not wish to eat with me," thought the Marquesa. "She knows me and has rejected me."
"Would you like me to read aloud to you while you are eating, My Lady?" asked Pepita, who felt that she had made a mistake.
"No. You may go to bed, if you choose."
"Thank you, My Lady."
Doña María had risen and approached the table. With one hand on the back of the chair she said haltingly: "My dear child, I am sending off a letter to Lima in the morning. If you have one you can enclose it with mine."
"No, I have none," said Pepita. She added hastily: "I must go downstairs and get you the new charcoal."