"Then good-afternoon. Miss de Barryos, I am very glad to meet Juan de Barryos' niece, in spite of the fact that she knew him almost as little as a stranger might. It was a great misfortune to you, for he was a charming man. Good-afternoon, Mrs. Chalmers."
He shook hands with his hostess and was gone. But almost before he had disappeared, Carlita had slipped away to her own room.
She stood there in the center of the room with her hands pressed passionately upon her breast, allowing her fierce anger full play upon her features.
"They hate me!" she cried, fiercely. "Hate me, because of that cursed blood of the Indian that flows within my veins. They hate me! Oh, God, if I could but open them and let it out drop by drop. If I could but be like others are. They hate me and I have allowed them to see their power to hurt me; but it shall not be so again. I will show them that I am not the thing for which they have taken me. I will show this woman and her daughter that I am not the weak, characterless thing that they have thought. They shall regret their words. I swear that—I swear it!"
And in the meantime Leith Pierrepont walked indolently down the street, musing dreamily.
"What a deuced pretty thing she is," he said to himself. "What eyes! What a complexion! I don't believe I ever saw a woman in my life who looked like her. My dear Jessica, I am afraid you have made a mistake in allowing this addition to be made to your family. She is the very most beautiful, wonderfully picturesque girl that an artist could fancy. If she doesn't make a sensation, then I'm mistaken. Heigh-ho! Leith, old fellow, if she plays such havoc with every man's heart as she has with yours in this short time, I shall be sorry for the other women. What a confounded shame it is that she has fallen in with the Chalmers. I wonder how it happened? I believe for the first time in my life I am curious. Carlita de Barryos! She's of a rattling good family, if there is a trace of Indian in her—which I don't believe altogether, and she's the most graceful person I ever met, and the highest-tempered to have absolute self-control. God! wasn't she furious! Cursed little vixen is Jessica, but fascinating. Carlita de Barryos! Upon my soul, old fellow, I believe you've seen the first woman you ever saw in your life that you'd like to make your wife! Funny, too, that I should meet her there—there of all places. The longer a fellow lives the more waggish the world grows for him."