Again the Senora misconceived her. The girl seemed not
insensible to the value and beauty of this costly raiment. Perhaps
she would be lured by it.
"All these are yours, Ramona, you understand, on your wedding
day, if you marry worthily, with my permission," said the Senora,
in a voice a shade less cold than had hitherto come from her lips.
"Did you understand what I read you?"
The girl did not answer. She had taken up in her hand a ragged,
crimson silk handkerchief, which, tied in many knots, lay in one
corner of the jewel-box.
"There are pearls in that," said the Senora; "that came with the
things your father sent to my sister when he died."
Ramona's eyes gleamed. She began untying the knots. The
handkerchief was old, the knots tied tight, and undisturbed for
years. As she reached the last knot, and felt the hard stones, she
paused. "This was my father's, then." she said.
"Yes," said the Senora, scornfully. She thought she had detected a
new baseness in the girl. She was going to set up a claim to all
which had been her father's property.
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