"
I thanked her warmly and accepted the offer of a refuge in her house.
Somewhat to my surprise, she still remained seated on the bench.
Presently she said:
"It is natural, senor, that you should not be glad to remain in a house
so _triste_. But there will be no repetition of all you were
obliged to endure on first entering it. Whenever my father sees a young
man, a stranger to him, he receives him as he received you to-day,
mistaking him for his son. After the first day, however, he loses all
interest in the new face, becoming indifferent, and forgetting all he
has said or imagined."
This information relieved me, and I remarked that I supposed the loss
of his son had been the cause of his malady.
"You are right; let me tell you how it happened," she replied. "For
this _estancia_ must seem to you a place unlike all others in the
world, and it is only natural that a stranger should wish to know the
reason of its sad condition. I know that I can speak without fear of
these things to one who is a friend to Santa Coloma."
"And to you, I hope, senorita," I said.
"Thank you, senor. All my life has been spent here. When I was a child
my brother went into the army, then my mother died, and I was left
here alone, for the siege of Montevideo had begun and I could not go
there. At length my father received a terrible wound in action and was
brought here to die, as we thought.
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