Maruja | Page 5

particularly to pay court to Miss Amita, the beauty."
"Possibly. But that wouldn't prevent Maruja from flirting with him."
"Eh! but are you not mistaken, Mr. Raymond? Certainly a more quiet, modest, and demure young lassie I never met."
"That's because she sat out two waltzes with you, and let you do the talking, while she simply listened."
The elder man's fresh color for an instant heightened, but he recovered himself with a good-humored laugh. "Likely--likely. She's a capital good listener."
"You're not the first man that found her eloquent. Stanton, your banking friend, who never talks of anything but mines and stocks, says she's the only woman who has any conversation; and we can all swear that she never said two words to him the whole time she sat next to him at dinner. But she looked at him as if she had. Why, man, woman, and child all give her credit for any grace that pleases themselves. And why? Because she's clever enough not to practice any one of them--as graces. I don't know the girl that claims less and gets more. For instance, you don't call her pretty?" . . .
"Wait a bit. Ye'll not get on so fast, my young friend; I'm not prepared to say that she's not," returned the Scotchman, with good- humored yet serious caution.
"But you would have been prepared yesterday, and have said it. She can produce the effect of the prettiest girl here, and without challenging comparison. Nobody thinks of her--everybody experiences her."
"You're an enthusiast, Mr. Raymond. As an habitue of the house, of course, you--"
"Oh, my time came with the rest," laughed the young man, with unaffected frankness. "It's about two years ago now."
"I see--you were not a marrying man."
"Pardon me--it was because I was."
The Scotchman looked at him curiously.
"Maruja is an heiress. I am a mining engineer."
"But, my dear fellow, I thought that in your country--"
"In MY country, yes. But we are standing on a bit of old Spain. This land was given to Dona Maria Saltonstall's ancestors by Charles V. Look around you. This veranda, this larger shell of the ancient casa, is the work of the old Salem whaling captain that she married, and is all that is American here. But the heart of the house, as well as the life that circles around the old patio, is Spanish. The Dona's family, the Estudillos and Guitierrez, always looked down upon this alliance with the Yankee captain, though it brought improvement to the land, and increased its value forty-fold, and since his death ever opposed any further foreign intervention. Not that that would weigh much with Maruja if she took a fancy to any one; Spanish as she is throughout, in thought and grace and feature, there is enough of the old Salem witches' blood in her to defy law and authority in following an unhallowed worship. There are no sons; she is the sole heiress of the house and estate--though, according to the native custom, her sisters will be separately portioned from the other property, which is very large."
"Then the Captain might still make a pretty penny on Amita," said the Scotchman.
"If he did not risk and lose it all on Maruja. There is enough of the old Spanish jealousy in the blood to make even the gentle Amita never forgive his momentary defection."
Something in his manner made the Scotchman think that Raymond spoke from baleful experience. How else could this attractive young fellow, educated abroad and a rising man in his profession, have failed to profit by his contiguity to such advantages, and the fact of his being an evident favorite?
"But with this opposition on the part of the relatives to any further alliances with your countrymen, why does our hostess expose her daughters to their fascinating influence?" said the elder man, glancing at his companion. "The girls seem to have the usual American freedom."
"Perhaps they are therefore the less likely to give it up to the first man who asks them. But the Spanish duenna still survives in the family--the more awful because invisible. It's a mysterious fact that as soon as a fellow becomes particularly attached to any one--except Maruja--he receives some intimation from Pereo."
"What! the butler? That Indian-looking fellow? A servant?"
"Pardon me--the mayordomo. The old confidential servitor who stands in loco parentis. No one knows what he says. If the victim appeals to the mistress, she is indisposed; you know she has such bad health. If in his madness he makes a confidante of Maruja, that finishes him."
"How?"
"Why, he ends by transferring his young affections to her--with the usual result."
"Then you don't think our friend the Captain has had this confidential butler ask his intentions yet?"
"I don't think it will be necessary," said the other, dryly.
"Umph! Meantime, the Captain has just vanished through yon shrubbery. I suppose that's