He knew also where the Senora had gone, and that she would be
late home; but he did not know that there would be any chance of
her returning by way of the willows at the brook; if he had known
it, he would have contrived to summon Ramona.
When Margarita saw Ramona shoved into her room by the pale
and trembling Senora, saw the key turned, taken out, and dropped
into the Senora's pocket, she threw her apron over her head, and
ran into the back porch. Almost a remorse seized her. She
remembered in a flash how often Ramona had helped her in times
gone by,-- sheltered her from the Senora's displeasure. She
recollected the torn altar-cloth. "Holy Virgin! what will be done to
her now?" she exclaimed, under her breath. Margarita had never
conceived of such an extremity as this. Disgrace, and a sharp
reprimand, and a sundering of all relations with Alessandro, -- this
was all Margarita had meant to draw down on Ramona's head. But
the Senora looked as if she might kill her.
"She always did hate her, in her heart," reflected Margarita; "she
shan't starve her to death, anyhow.
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