“She will shrug the shoulders by and by.”
“I doubt it. But meanwhile, I’ve written a letter. Will you try to give it
to the young lady?”
“Yes,” said Mariquita. “I will try my best. I think I can do it. Not
to-night, for she has gone to bed, and there would be no excuse to get
back to her room, since I must pass through Her Majesty’s. But to-morrow
morning I will take the ladies’ hot water, with oh, such an innocent face!
And I will take the letter too.”
“Thank you many times,” said I.
“The thing isn’t done yet.”
“It’s for your goodwill I thank you in advance. And this is for your
bull-fighter, as a present from his _novia_.”
I took out my scarf-pin. Her face flushed with pleasure, as it would have
flushed for no sum of money. She might have waived away a present for
herself, but she could not resist one for the _novio_, and I was thanked
far beyond the gift’s merit.
If she went to bed happy, so did I, for I believed that Monica would have
my letter in the morning; and if the wistfulness in her eyes meant some
new trouble in which I had a part, I hoped that the words I had written
might banish it.