It was the wardrobe of a princess. The
Ortegnas lavished money always on the women whose hearts they
broke; and never ceased to demand of them that they should sit
superbly arrayed in their lonely wretchedness.
One hour after the funeral, with a scant and icy ceremony of
farewell to her dead sister's husband, Senora Moreno, leading the
little four-year-old Ramona by the hand, left the house, and early
the next morning set sail for home.
When Ortegna discovered that his wife's jewels and valuables of
all kinds were gone, he fell into a great rage, and sent a messenger
off, post-haste, with an insulting letter to the Senora Moreno,
demanding their return. For answer, he got a copy of his wife's
memoranda of instructions to her sister, giving all the said
valuables to her in trust for Ramona; also a letter from Father
Salvierderra, upon reading which he sank into a fit of despondency
that lasted a day or two, and gave his infamous associates
considerable alarm, lest they had lost their comrade. But he soon
shook off the influence, whatever it was, and settled back into his
old gait on the same old high-road to the devil.
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