But that's one thing they won't stand for, not
when there's a handsome fellow at hand to play the bear. Then the old
lover is easily forgotten for the new. Eh, Father?"
"Ah, Don Lance, I know your reputation as a matchmaker," replied Father
Norquin, in a rich French accent. "Report says had you not had a hand in
it the match would have been successful. The supposition is that it only
lacked your approval. The daughter of a vaquero refusing a Travino? Tut,
tut, man!"
A hearty guffaw greeted these aspersions. "And so you've heard I was a
matchmaker, have you? Of course, you believed it just like any other old
granny. Now, of course, when I'm asked by any of my people to act as
_padrino_, I never refuse any more than you do. I've made many a match
and hope to be spared to make several more. But come; they're calling us
to breakfast, and after that we'll take a walk over to the ranch burying
ground. It's less than a half mile--in that point of encinal yonder. I
want to show you what I think would be a nice spot for our chapel."
The conversation during breakfast was artfully directed by the host to
avoid the dangerous shoals, though the padre constantly kept an eye on
Juana as she passed back and forth.
Pages:
269
270
271
272
273
274
275
276
277
278
279
280
281
282
283
284
285
286
287
288
289
290
291
292
293