them.”
“Why is she doing it?” Blair asked her.
“Se va. She is leaving.”
By the shrug she gave she made it plain her concern was not with any motive Estelle may have had, but with the tangible results spread before her. The glass-blown pearls immediately went around her neck, and the swollen rose was thrust first under, then over, and finally in back of, one ear, while she studied the results obtained by means of the pocket-mirror. The baby was placated with the eyebrow pencil and told not to eat it.
That night when Mariquita and the old woman returned to their home, or homes, for Blair had never found out whether they lived under the same roof or not, they carried away with them the spoils of a stricken conscience. They went shawlless, for each had tied the four corners of her shawl together and made a bundle of it. And in addition Mariquita flaunted a number of Estelle’s dresses over her arm. Estelle had not appeared at dinner, and Giraldy, noticing the two as they were leaving the patio, insisted upon their setting the shawls down and untying them while he analyzed the contents of each one. Blair stood looking on and flashed Mariquita a look of sympathy. Giraldy apparently came to the conclusion he had been wasting his time, and put an end to the inquisition by brushing his hands vigorously. “Take the filth away,” he commented pityingly. When they had obsequiously bid him good night and vanished, he noticed Blair standing there.
“Wouldn’t you like a bangle or a handkerchief for a keepsake?”
Blair decided he had been insulted, and thrusting his hands between his belt and stomach was about to take refuge in sulking, until he suddenly discerned that the irony was at Estelle’s expense.
He smiled then and said, “No.”
In the morning Estelle again had two callers, but so unlike those of the day before that to Blair, peering out at them with startled eyes from behind one of the patio rubber plants, they seemed hardly to be human at all. Veiled in black, they were like apparitions of death, all human attributes but the face carefully done away with, and the face itself bearing a pallor that was not of the land of the living. The old woman bowed humbly and brought them out two chairs upon which they settled themselves like masses of dense smoke. Blair could not tear himself away, and though they undoubtedly saw him, and though the fact that he kept the rubber plant between him and themselves was not complimentary, it was as though nothing had any existence at all for them, no living being, no inanimate thing, save only the abstract purpose that had brought them there.
Presently they had risen again, soundlessly, effortlessly, and Estelle had thrown open the glass patio-doors to her room and stood beyond the threshold. Her manner was a peculiar mixture of the abject and the triumphant. She was dressed in black, without ornament, and her large black hat had been stripped of its flowers. The two ghostly presences confronting her slightly inclined their heads. He saw Estelle, walking as in a dream, go to them. They turned about to face in the direction she was facing, and each taking her by an arm, and the old woman bobbing her head and mumbling and holding wide the patio gate for them, they glided through the arched street-doorway, shutting off the inflowing sunlight for a moment, which when they had quite gone, streamed in again as brightly as before.
The old woman said nothing. To her it must have appeared a good deed, well done. Mariquita, however, despite her usual reverence in all such matters, showed a disposition to be a little more worldly in this one instance.
“You will never see her again, Blerr. She has gone with the religiosas. One who goes in there, never afterward leaves.”
Blair was a little saddened. Vague memories of Sasha recurred to him. It was as though in the span of a single childhood he had lost, not one, but two mothers. True, there could never again be the emotional
“Why is she doing it?” Blair asked her.
“Se va. She is leaving.”
By the shrug she gave she made it plain her concern was not with any motive Estelle may have had, but with the tangible results spread before her. The glass-blown pearls immediately went around her neck, and the swollen rose was thrust first under, then over, and finally in back of, one ear, while she studied the results obtained by means of the pocket-mirror. The baby was placated with the eyebrow pencil and told not to eat it.
That night when Mariquita and the old woman returned to their home, or homes, for Blair had never found out whether they lived under the same roof or not, they carried away with them the spoils of a stricken conscience. They went shawlless, for each had tied the four corners of her shawl together and made a bundle of it. And in addition Mariquita flaunted a number of Estelle’s dresses over her arm. Estelle had not appeared at dinner, and Giraldy, noticing the two as they were leaving the patio, insisted upon their setting the shawls down and untying them while he analyzed the contents of each one. Blair stood looking on and flashed Mariquita a look of sympathy. Giraldy apparently came to the conclusion he had been wasting his time, and put an end to the inquisition by brushing his hands vigorously. “Take the filth away,” he commented pityingly. When they had obsequiously bid him good night and vanished, he noticed Blair standing there.
“Wouldn’t you like a bangle or a handkerchief for a keepsake?”
Blair decided he had been insulted, and thrusting his hands between his belt and stomach was about to take refuge in sulking, until he suddenly discerned that the irony was at Estelle’s expense.
He smiled then and said, “No.”
In the morning Estelle again had two callers, but so unlike those of the day before that to Blair, peering out at them with startled eyes from behind one of the patio rubber plants, they seemed hardly to be human at all. Veiled in black, they were like apparitions of death, all human attributes but the face carefully done away with, and the face itself bearing a pallor that was not of the land of the living. The old woman bowed humbly and brought them out two chairs upon which they settled themselves like masses of dense smoke. Blair could not tear himself away, and though they undoubtedly saw him, and though the fact that he kept the rubber plant between him and themselves was not complimentary, it was as though nothing had any existence at all for them, no living being, no inanimate thing, save only the abstract purpose that had brought them there.
Presently they had risen again, soundlessly, effortlessly, and Estelle had thrown open the glass patio-doors to her room and stood beyond the threshold. Her manner was a peculiar mixture of the abject and the triumphant. She was dressed in black, without ornament, and her large black hat had been stripped of its flowers. The two ghostly presences confronting her slightly inclined their heads. He saw Estelle, walking as in a dream, go to them. They turned about to face in the direction she was facing, and each taking her by an arm, and the old woman bobbing her head and mumbling and holding wide the patio gate for them, they glided through the arched street-doorway, shutting off the inflowing sunlight for a moment, which when they had quite gone, streamed in again as brightly as before.
The old woman said nothing. To her it must have appeared a good deed, well done. Mariquita, however, despite her usual reverence in all such matters, showed a disposition to be a little more worldly in this one instance.
“You will never see her again, Blerr. She has gone with the religiosas. One who goes in there, never afterward leaves.”
Blair was a little saddened. Vague memories of Sasha recurred to him. It was as though in the span of a single childhood he had lost, not one, but two mothers. True, there could never again be the emotional
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