"
General Santierra ceased and got up from the table. "And that is all,
senores," he concluded, with a courteous glance at his rising guests.
"But what became of the child. General?" we asked.
"Ah, the child, the child."
He walked to one of the windows opening on his beautiful garden, the
refuge of his old days. Its fame was great in the land. Keeping us back
with a raised arm, he called out, "Erminia, Erminia!" and waited. Then
his cautioning arm dropped, and we crowded to the windows.
From a clump of trees a woman had come upon the broad walk bordered
with flowers. We could hear the rustle of her starched petticoats and
observed the ample spread of her old-fashioned black silk skirt. She
looked up, and seeing all these eyes staring at her stopped, frowned,
smiled, shook her finger at the General, who was laughing boisterously,
and drawing the black lace on her head so as to partly conceal her
haughty profile, passed out of our sight, walking with stiff dignity.
"You have beheld the guardian angel of the old man--and her to whom
you owe all that is seemly and comfortable in my hospitality.
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