"No more talk!" cried Faquita, and once more silence came to her own. But fate was stronger than Faquita. An hour later a little girl came running down, calling to the old woman that her grandchild, the consolation of her age, had been taken ill. After she had hurried away the women fairly leaped over one another in their efforts to reach Mariquita's tub. "Tell us, tell us, chiquita," they cried, fearful lest Faquita's snubbing should have turned her sulky, "what dost thou know?" But Mariquita, who had been biting her lips to keep back her story, opened them and spoke fluently. "Ay, my friends! Doña Eustaquia and Benicia Ortega are not the only ones to wed Americans. Listen! La Tulita is mad for this man, who is no more handsome than the palm of my hand when it has all day been in the water. Yesterday morning came Don Ramon. I am in the back garden of the Casa Rivera with Ana, and La Tulita is in the front garden sitting under the wall. I can look through the doors of the sala and see and hear all. Such a handsome caballero, my friends! The gold six inches deep on the serape. Silver eagles on the sombrero. And the botas! Stamp with birds and leaves, ay, yi! He fling open the gates so bold, and when he see La Tulita he look like the sun is behind his face. (Such curls, my friends, tied with a blue ribbon!) But listen! "'Mi querida!' he cry, 'mi alma!' (Ay, my heart jump in my throat like he speak to me.) Then he fall on one knee and try to kiss her hand. But she throw herself back like she hate him. Her eyes are like the bay in winter. And then she laugh. When she do that, he stand up and say with the voice that shake:-- "'What is the matter, Herminia? Do you not love me any longer?' "'I never love you,' she say. 'They give me no peace until I say I marry you, and as I love no one else--I do not care much. But now that you have insult me, I have the best excuse to break the engagement, and I do it.' "'I insult you?' He hardly can speak, my friends, he is so surprised and unhappy. "'Yes; did you not forget the smocks?' "'The--smocks!' he stammer, like that. 'The smocks?' "'No one can be blame but you,' she say. 'And you know that no bride forgive that. You know all that it means.' "'Herminia!' he say. 'Surely you will not put me; away for a little thing like that!'