Of course Mariquita kept her promise of being present at her father's
marriage. It had never occurred to her that she could be absent; it was
a duty of respect that she owed to him, and a duty of fellow-womanhood
that she owed to Sarella.
It amused her a little to hear that a certain Mrs. Kane was to be
present, in a sort of maternal quality, and that Mr. Kane was to give
the bride away as a sort of official father. Mr. Kane might have seen
Sarella a dozen times--in the parlor of the convent, which she was much
given to frequent. Mrs. Kane had, so far as Mariquita was aware, never
seen her at all--except at Mass.
They were Kentuckians who had moved west some twelve years earlier than
Sarella herself, and, though they had not made a fortune, were
sufficiently well off to be rather leading members of the congregation.
Mrs. Kane's most outstanding characteristic was a genius for organizing
bazaars, on a scale of ever-increasing importance; the first had been
for the purchase of a harmonium, the last had been to raise funds for a
new wing to the Convent; all her friends had prophesied failure for the
first; no one had dared predict anything but dazzling success for the
last. Mr. Kane was not less remarkable for his phenomenal success in the
matter of whist-drives--and raffles. He would raffle the nose off your
face if you would let him, and hand over an astonishing sum to the
church when he had done it, with the most exquisite satisfaction that
the proceeding was not strictly legal.
Both the Kanes were extremely amusing, and no one could decide which was
the more good-natured of the two. Of week-day afternoons Mrs. Kane was
quite sumptuously attired, Mr. Kane liked to be rather shabby even on
Sundays at Mass, which caused him to be generally reported somewhat more
affluent than he really was. He had always been supposed to be "about
fifty," whereas Mrs. Kane had, ever since her arrival, spoken of herself
as "on the sensible side of thirty."
At Sarella's wedding Mrs. Kane's magnificence deeply impressed the
cowboys; and Mr. Kane's elaborate paternity towards the bride, whom he
only knew by her dress, would have deceived if it had been possible the
very elect; they were not precisely that and it did not deceive, though
it hugely delighted them.
"I swear he's _crying_!" whispered Pete Rugger to Larry Burke. "He cried
just like that in the play when Mrs. Hooger ran away with her own
husband that represented the hero."
"Well," said Larry, "a man can't help his feelings."
He was secretly wondering if Mr. Kane would give away Ginger--he would
do it so much better than Jack.
Mrs. Kane affected no tears. She had the air of serenely parting with a
daughter, for her own good, to an excellent, wealthy husband whom she
had found for her, and of being ready to do as much for the rest of her
many daughters--Mr. and Mrs. Kane were childless.
Perhaps this attitude on her part suited better with her resplendent
costume than it would have suited her husband's black attire--which he
kept for funerals.
Little was lost on the cowboys, and they did not fail to note that the
gray which of recent years had been invading the "Boss's" hair had
disappeared.
"In the distance he don't look a lot older than Gore," Pete Rugger
declared to his neighbor.
Gore supported Don Joaquin as "best" or groomsman.
It was significant that on Mariquita's appearance no spoken comment was
made by any of the cowboys, though to each of them she was the most
absorbing figure. Her father had fetched her from Loretto three days
before the wedding, and at the Convent had been introduced to a
learned-looking but agreeable ecclesiastic who was a rector of a college
for lay youths.
Don Joaquin, much interested, had plied the reverend pundit with
inquiries concerning this seat of learning, not forgetting particular
inquisition as to the terms.
On their conclusion he took notes in writing of all the replies and
declared that it sounded exactly what he would choose for his own son.
"I would like," he said, with a simplicity that rather touched the
rector, "that my lad should grow up with more education than I ever
had."
"Your son," surmised the rector, "would be younger than his sister?"
"He would," Don Joaquin admitted, without condescending upon
particulars.