"You have said that same thing for five years."
"Then the end is five years nearer. I never can have any satisfaction in talking to you, Carlita. You won't sit down and reason a thing out, as other people do."
The girl leaned her exquisite face upon her hand and looked dreamily through the window.
"I beg your pardon," she said, softly. "I will not interrupt again."
"I feel so satisfied," her mother continued, spreading out her hands curiously; "now that Louise has undertaken your guardianship, I can die quite contented. You will have Jessica for a companion, and—"
"I have never seen Jessica or her mother."
"There you go again! What difference can that possibly make? Louise and I were the greatest friends as girls. I shall never forget how she cried when I told her that I was going to marry your father.
"'My dear Dorindah,' she said, 'you will regret it to the last day of your life. Jose de Barryos is a hot-tempered Mexican, and you know how dreadful they are.'
"It was quite true, Carlita. I never knew a moment's happiness from the time I married your father until the day he died."
The girl moved restlessly; there was intense pain depicted in her countenance; but her mother continued as if she had not observed: