The Travelling ThirdsAtherton, Gertrude Franklin Horn
General
The Travelling Thirds
Atherton, Gertrude Franklin Horn
Americans -- Spain -- Fiction; Voyages and travels -- Fiction
She was too proud to go after them, but her fingers curved round the
window-seat in the effort to restrain herself, and her spirits plunged
into an abyss of dull despair, emerging only on jealous and torturing
wings to drop again. She realized the mistake she had made in the
exuberance of her happy self-confidence; for a girl like Miss Holmes can
make heavy running in an hour. On the steamer and in the various
pensions where the Moultons had lingered she had often seen what no
doubt was this same type of girl retire into a corner with the man she
had marked for her own and talk—or listen—hour after hour; and Catalina
had speculated upon their subjects, wondering that one human being could
interest another for so long a time without the exterior aids of travel.
The man had always looked as engrossed as the girl, and Catalina was
forced to conclude that the mysterious arts were effective, and wished
it were not forbidden to listen behind a curtain, but only that
curiosity might be satisfied—she scorned arts herself. Now she wondered
distractedly what this ashen-haired houri was talking about to make Over
forget his very manners; but none of the long, desultory conversations,
followed by the longer silences peculiar to her experience with him,
threw light on the weapons of this accomplished ruler of hearts;
although the bare idea that they might be leaning over the parapet side
by side in a familiar silence brought Catalina to her feet and turned
her sharply towards the arcade. But at that moment she saw them coming.
Over was a little ahead of his companion, who was smiling with her lips,
and he came forward with some anxiety in his eyes.
“I only just missed you,” he said. “I thought you were there in the room
lost in one of your silent moods. When did you come down?”
“Only a little while ago,” said Catalina, sweetly, and she saw the eyes
of the other girl flash with something like fear. She also noted that
her cheeks were flushed.
“You have got a little sunburned,” she said, with concern for a fine
complexion in her voice. “It is much cooler down here. Have we time to
go into the Sala de los Embajadores?”
And Over was made subtly aware of the second-rate quality of Miss
Holmes’s accent.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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