"What a hurry you are in, Aunt Maria!" said the muleteer. "Are you afraid you shall take root?"
"No, but these asses of ours do not go like yours, Jose."
"That is so," said Pedro as he assisted Maria to mount; "with us, all is old--the horsewoman, her squire, and the steeds. My ass is so judicious that she cannot make up her mind upon which foot to limp, and therefore limps on all four; and that of Maria so old, that, if she could speak, she would say 'thee and thou' to us all. Well, gentlemen, your commands."
"Health and dimes to you, Uncle Pedro."
Our travellers took the road again, and when they reached Alcalá, separated to attend to their respective affairs.
An hour afterward they rejoined each other. Pedro came accompanied by his daughter, who threw herself upon Maria's neck with that tender sentimentality of young girls whose hearts have not been bruised, wounded, or chilled, by contact with the world.
"You have collected your money?" questioned Pedro, as though he doubted it.
"They offered me half now," answered Maria, "or the whole after harvest; and, as I am in want of my dimes, I preferred the former."
"Not Solomon, Maria! not even Solomon! could have acted more wisely; for, 'blessed is he that possesses,' and 'one bird in the hand is worth a hundred on the wing.'"
Pedro took his daughter up behind him, and they set out--Maria taking care of her money; Marcela of the flowers, spices, cakes, and sweetmeats she had bought as gifts; and Pedro looking after them both.