Near neighbors were the two
Estudillo sisters, who were prouder of their Castilian lineage than of
the princely estate which they had inherited through it. To them I was
in a measure indebted for pleasing conversation at table. My abundant
glossy black hair and brunette type had first attracted their
attention, and suggested the probability of Spanish blood in my veins.
After they had learned otherwise, those points of resemblance still
awoke in them an unobtrusive interest in my welfare. I became aware of
its depth one evening in the recreation room while Georgia was home
for a month on sick leave.
I was near Miss Dolores Estudillo, and overheard her say quietly to her
sister, in Spanish, "Magdalena, see how care-free the young girl at my
side seems tonight. The far-away look so often in her eyes leads me to think
that our dear Lord has given her many crosses to bear. Her hands show
marks of hard work and her clothing is inexpensive, yet she appears of
good birth and when I can throw pleasure in her way, I mean to do it."
Whereupon Miss Magdalena turned to me and asked, "Do you live in
Sacramento, Miss Donner?"
"No, I live on a ranch twenty miles from the city."
"Do your parents like it there?"
"I have no parents, they died when I was four years old."
She did not ask another question, nor did she know that I had caught
the note of sympathy in her apology as she turned away.
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