She knew that she held in her fingers the
secret of Francisco's sudden banishment. She felt instinctively that
this yellowish envelope, with its red string and its blotch of red seal,
was his sentence and her own. The little mestiza had not been brought up
to respect the integrity of either locks or seals, both being unknown
in the patriarchal life of the hacienda. Yet with a certain feminine
instinct she looked furtively around her, and even managed to dislodge
the clumsy wax without marring the pretty effigy of the crossed keys
impressed upon it. Then she opened the letter and read.
Suddenly she stopped and put back her hair from her brown temples. Then
a succession of burning blushes followed each other in waves from her
neck up, and died in drops of moisture in her eyes. This continued until
she was fairly crying, dropping the letter from her hands and rocking
to and fro. In the midst of this she quickly stopped again; the clouds
broke, a sunshine of laughter started from her eyes, she laughed shyly,
she laughed loudly, she laughed hysterically.
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