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 And then she would take the guitar * 
 
 and sit out in the little garden 
 
THE PRETTY SISTER OF JOSE 
 
 FRANCES HODGSON BURNETT 
 
 AUTHOR OP "THAT LASS O' LOWRIES," " LITTLK LORD 
 FAUNTLEROY," ETC., ETC 
 
 NEW YORK 
 CHARLES SCRIBNER'S SONS 
 
 1889 
 
Copyright, 1889, by 
 FRANCES HODGSON BURNETT. 
 
 [All rights reserved.] 
 
 Press of J. J. Little & Co., 
 Astor Place, New York. 
 
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 And then she would take the guitar and sit 
 out in the little garden Frontispiece 
 
 When on the first holiday he took her to the 
 public gardens with jovita 16 
 
 But Sebastiano was addressing the president 
 of the games 36 
 
 Pepita shook the small stray blossoms out of 
 
 HER HAIR 46 
 
 "we will make it more amusing," said sebas- 
 tiano, eagerly 50 
 
 she leaned against the side of the well 68 
 
 She clasped her hands behind her head 78 
 
 803693 
 
iv LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS. 
 
 PAGE 
 PEPITA SAT DOWN ON TnE THRESHOLD AND RESTED 
 
 HER HEAD AGAINST THE SIDE OF THE DOOR. ... 84 
 
 .... and fell upon the altar steps shudder- 
 ing and sobbing like a beaten child 102 
 
 In but a few moments he had reached it and 
 held it by the arm, feeling all the slen- 
 der body breathless and panting 112 
 
 " She is a pretty young girl," they said, "not 
 as pretty as that other." 114 
 
 " dlos ! dios ! " he murmured 124 
 
THE PRETTY SISTER OF JOSE 
 
THE PRETTY SISTER OF JOSfi. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 It had taken him a long time, and it had 
 cost him — Jose — much hard labor, to prepare 
 for his aged grandmother and Pepita the tiny 
 home outside Madrid, to which he at last 
 brought them in great triumph one hot sum- 
 mer's day, when the very vine-leaves and 
 orange-trees themselves were dusty. It had 
 been a great undertaking for him in the 
 first place, for he was a slow fellow — Jose ; 
 slow as he Avas dull and kind and faithful 
 to Pepita and the grandmother. He had a 
 body as big as an ox, and a heart as big as 
 his body, but he was slow and dull in every- 
 thing but one thing — that was his carpenter 
 
2 THE PRETTY SISTER OF JOSE. 
 
 work. lie was well enough at that, and 
 more than well enough, for he had always 
 had a fancy and a knack for it from the 
 time when as a boy he had worked in his 
 uncle's vineyards and tilled his fields and 
 fed his beasts. His uncle had been counted 
 a rich man among his neighbors, but when 
 his sister and her husband died and left the 
 two children, Jose and Pepita, penniless, and 
 with no protector save himself and their 
 grandmother, already an old woman, it was 
 upon the grandmother that the burden fell, 
 for he did nothing for them except to give 
 them, grudgingly now and then, a few poor 
 vegetables or a little fallen fruit. It is true 
 that when Jose was old enough to labor in 
 the fields he gave him work to do, but he 
 paid him ill and treated him ill also, giving 
 him poor food and harsh words, and often 
 enough blows the poor lad did not deserve. 
 So it came about that while he was at his 
 work Jose fell into the way of planning to 
 
THE PRETTY SISTER OF JOSE. 3 
 
 escape from all this, and make another home 
 for himself and his pretty child-sister and 
 the old woman. He knew there was only 
 one way to do it : if he could carry his one 
 gift where it would be of more use to him 
 than it could possibly be in a poor small 
 village : if he could carry it to a market 
 where there were more people and where 
 work was better paid for. Where the king 
 and queen were, of course, there must be 
 more money, and one could find more to do 
 and live better. It was Padre Alejandro, 
 the village priest, who had suggested this to 
 him first. He was a kind, jovial old fellow, 
 the padre, and had seen something of the 
 world, too, long ago, which was perhaps 
 why he was never very hard upon a simple 
 sinner who went to confession, and could give 
 a bit of unecclesiastical advice now and then. 
 He had always been kind to Jose, and as 
 Pepita had grown prettier and prettier every 
 day, he had often spoken of her to old Jovita, 
 
4 THE PRETTY SISTER OF JOSE. 
 
 and said she should be well taught and taken 
 care of, and once even — when she had come 
 into the house with a basket of grapes on 
 her little head, rose-flushed with the hot day, 
 her black hair curling in moist silken rings 
 on her forehead — he had been betrayed into 
 the worldly remark that such pretty young- 
 things ought to have something brighter to 
 look forward to than hard work and scant 
 fare, which made them old before their time, 
 and left them nothing to look back upon. 
 But he only said it to Jovita, and Jovita 
 only stared a little, it never having occurred 
 to her that there was anything much in the 
 world but hard labor and poverty. And 
 what difference did it make that one was 
 pretty, except that it became more probable 
 that some gay, lazy fellow would pretend 
 to fall in love with one, and then after mar- 
 riage leave one all the work to do and a 
 houseful of hungry children to feed ? She 
 had seen that often enough. Had it not 
 
THE PRETTY SISTER OF JOSE. 5 
 
 been so with Pepita's mother, who died at 
 twenty-five almost an old woman, worn out 
 with trouble and hard usage ? 
 
 But afterward, when Padre Alejandro 
 saw Jose, he spoke of Pepita to him also, 
 though only as if incidentally among other 
 things. 
 
 " She should marry some good fellow who 
 could take care of her," he said. " If you 
 go to Madrid it will also be better for her." 
 
 And so the end of it all was that after 
 much slow planning and many hopes and 
 fears, and more than one disappointment, 
 there came a day when the uncle was thrown 
 into a violent rage by losing his best and 
 most patient worker, and the poor cottage 
 stood empty, and Jose and Pepita and Jovita 
 found themselves in a new world. 
 
 What a new world it seemed to them all ! 
 Through the help of Padre Alejandro and 
 an old friend of his, Jose had work bringing 
 him pay which appeared absolute wealth to 
 
6 THE PRETTY SISTER OF JOSE. 
 
 him. The cottage, with its good walls and 
 roof, its neat rooms and garden, being com- 
 pared with the mere hut they had left be- 
 hind, seemed a palace. For the first few 
 days, indeed, Jovita was scarce at ease ; to 
 feel no necessity for heavy labor, to have 
 food enough, to be so comfortable, seemed 
 unnatural, as if it might finally bring dis- 
 aster. But it was not so with Pepita. All 
 the joy of youth, all its delights and expec- 
 tations filled her heart. To be so near the 
 great, grand city, to look forward to seeing 
 all its splendors, to walk in its streets, to 
 share in the amusements she had heard of — 
 this was rapture. If she had been pretty 
 before, she became now ten times prettier; 
 her lovely eyes grew larger w r ith laughter 
 and wonder and joy ; her light feet almost 
 danced ; her color was like that of a damask 
 rose. Each day brought new innocent hap- 
 piness to her. When Jose came home from 
 his work at night, she sat by his side and 
 
THE PRETTY SISTER OF JOSE. 7 
 
 asked him a thousand questions. Had he 
 seen the palace — had he seen the king or 
 the queen — what were the people doing — 
 were the public gardens beautiful? x\nd 
 then she would take the guitar, which had 
 belonged to her gay father in his gavest 
 days, and sit out in the little garden, among 
 the vines and lemon-trees and oleanders, and 
 play and sing one song after another, wiiile 
 Jose smoked and rested, and wondered at 
 and delighted in her. It was she who had 
 inherited all her father's gayety and spirit. 
 Jose had none of them, and, being slow and 
 simple, had always found her a wonder and a 
 strange pleasure. She had, indeed, been the 
 one bright thing in his life, and even her 
 wilfulness had a charm for him. He always 
 gave way to it and was content. Had she 
 not even once defied the uncle when no one 
 else would have dared to do it ? holding her 
 little head up and confronting him in such a 
 burst of pretty rage that the old curmudgeon 
 
8 THE PRETTY SISTER OF JOSE. 
 
 had been quite quelled for once in his life, 
 and had ever afterward treated her with a 
 kind of respect, even saying to a neighbor 
 that " the lad was a fool, but the little devil 
 had something in her, after all." 
 
 In all his plannings it was Pepita Jose had 
 thought of first. Madrid to him was only a 
 sort of setting for Pepita ; the clean, com- 
 fortable cottage a home for Pepita ; the roses 
 and lemon blossoms she would wear in her 
 hair ; under the fine grape-vines she would 
 sit in the evening and play on her guitar. 
 His wages would give her comfort and buy 
 her pretty simple dresses. And then every 
 one would see her beauty, and when she went 
 to mass, or with himself and Jovita to the 
 Prado or the Paseo de la Yirgen del Puerto, 
 people would look at her and tell each other 
 how pretty she was, and all this would end 
 in time in a good marriage perhaps. And 
 she would be loved by some nice fellow, and 
 have a home of her own, and be as happy as 
 
TEE PRETTY SISTER OF JOSE. 9 
 
 the day was long. There was only one 
 obstacle in the way of this excellent plan ; 
 it was only a small obstacle, but — it was 
 Pepita herself! Singularly enough, Pepita 
 had a fixed antipathy to marriage. She had 
 early announced her intention of remaining 
 unmarried, and those young men who in her 
 native village had desired to make love to 
 her had been treated with disapproval and 
 disdain. Knowing as little of love as a young 
 bird unfledged, her coldness was full of inno- 
 cent cruelty. She made no effort to soften 
 any situation. She was willing to dance 
 and laugh and sing, but when she found 
 herself confronting lover-like tremors and 
 emotion, she was unsparing candor itself. 
 
 " Why should I listen to you 1 " she had 
 said more than once. " I do not love you. 
 You do not please me. When you wish to 
 marry me, I hate you. Go away, and speak 
 to some one else." 
 
 " I will never marry any one," she said to 
 
10 THE PRETTY SISTER OF JOSE. 
 
 Jose. " I will stay with you and be happy. 
 Girls who marry grow ugly and are wretch- 
 ed. Their husbands do not love them after 
 they are married. They must work and 
 slave and take care of the house and the 
 children. Look at Tessa ! Her husband 
 used to be wild about her. She could make 
 him pale with misery if she turned away 
 from him ; he used to follow her about every- 
 where. Now he makes eyes at Juanita, and 
 beats Tessa if she complains. And don't we 
 both remember how it was with our mother? 
 I will never love any one, and never be mar- 
 ried. Let them love me if they are so stupid, 
 but I will be left alone. I care nothing for 
 any of them/' 
 
 The truth is that Jose knew it was what 
 she remembered of her mother's imhappiness 
 and what Jovita had told her, which was the 
 foundation of all this. Did he not remember 
 it himself, and remember, with a shudder, 
 those first miserable years of their childhood 
 
THE PRETTY SISTER OF JOSE. \\ 
 
 — the great, beautiful, wretched eyes of their 
 mother, their gay, handsome father, and his 
 careless cruelty and frequent brutality ? Had 
 not Pepita and himself clung together hid- 
 den in the loft at night, listening to their 
 mother's sobs, and often to the sound of 
 blows and curses rained down upon her be- 
 cause she was no longer a beauty, and there 
 were beauties who had smiles to bestow on 
 handsome fellows who were free, and even 
 upon those who were not \ It was enough 
 to irritate any handsome fellow — this one 
 had thought — to come home to a squalid 
 place after enjoyment, and be forced to face 
 poverty and children and a haggard wife 
 with large staring eyes, red with weeping. 
 Yes, Pepita and Jose remembered all this, 
 and upon Pepita's character it had left curi- 
 ous traces. Young as she was, she had 
 awakened quite grand passions in more than 
 one heart, and on two or three occasions the 
 suitors had been of far better fortune than 
 
12 THE PRETTY SISTER OF JOSE. 
 
 herself — one of them, indeed, being the only 
 son of a rich farmer, who might have chosen 
 a wife of much greater importance than this 
 pretty, scornful child, and whose family re- 
 belled bitterly against his folly, and at last 
 sent him away to Seville, but not before 
 Pepita herself had coolly trodden him under 
 her small feet. 
 
 " I like you less than any of them," she 
 said, fixing her great, direct eyes upon him 
 when he revealed his frenzy. " Go and 
 marry that girl your father chose for you — 
 if she will have you. They have no need to 
 be afraid and speak ill of me. I don't want 
 you. I can't bear to have you stand near 
 me." 
 
 To Jose it never occurred to complain of 
 her, but Jovita's sense of worldly advantage 
 was outraged at this time, and she did not 
 hesitate to express herself with much free- 
 dom and grumbling. 
 
 " God knows, I want no haste," she said ; 
 
THE PRETTY SISTER OF JOSE. 13 
 
 " but this is a chance for any girl. And 
 see what a fool she is. But that is as it 
 always happens. There will come along 
 some worthless fellow, and she will be fooled 
 like the rest, and be ready enough to run 
 after him." 
 
 " I ! " said Pepita, who stood in the door- 
 way. " I ! " And she opened her dark eyes 
 in genuine anger and amazement. 
 
 " Yes, you," answered Jo vita. " And you 
 will be worse than any of them. Girls who 
 think themselves too good to be spoken to 
 are always easiest to coax when they find 
 their match. Let him come, and you'll drop 
 like a ripe grape." 
 
 " He will never come," said Pepita. 
 " Clever ! " And there was not a shade of 
 doubt in her look — nothing but cold indiff- 
 nation at Jovita's ill-humor. " I am not 
 afraid of men. They are all stupid. They 
 think they can have anything they want, 
 and they can have nothing. They have to 
 
14 THE PRETTY SISTER OF JOSE. 
 
 ask, and it is the girls who can say 'No;' 
 and then thev are miserable, and beg and 
 beg until one detests them. If any one said 
 ' No ' to me, I would not let them see it 
 hurt me. They should think I did not care." 
 
 " You will not always say ' No,' " grumbled 
 Jovita. " Wait till the day for < Yes ' 
 comes. You'll say it fast enough. That's 
 the way with women." 
 
 A bewitching little smile slowly curved 
 Pepita's lips and crept into her eyes. 
 
 " I am not a woman," she said, looking 
 out at the sun-warmed vineyards. " lie said 
 so himself. Felipe said, ' You are not a 
 woman ; you are a witch, and no one can 
 touch your heart or conquer you.' I will be 
 a witch." 
 
 Secretly she had liked those words better 
 than any of the adoring praises she had 
 heard before. She liked the su^orestion that 
 she was invincible and safe from all danger 
 — to be a witch — to be free from all this dis- 
 
THE PRETTY SISTER OF JOSE. 15 
 
 astrous folly — to be unconquerable. Yes, 
 that pleased her. It was not her fault that 
 they would fall in love with her. What 
 did she do to them ? Nothing. She never 
 allowed them to come near her or touch her ; 
 she never gave them tender glances or words. 
 She laughed and was Pepita — that was all. 
 Then it was no fault of hers. 
 
 And yet her little heart was warm enough. 
 She loved Jose passionately ; she loved Jo- 
 vita; she loved little children and animals, 
 and they loved her in return ; old men and 
 women adored her because of her simple, 
 almost childish kindness and her readiness to 
 help those who needed her young strength 
 and bright spirit. It was only men who 
 made love who were shown no mercy. She 
 did not know that they needed mercy. She 
 did not understand — that was all. It was as 
 Jose had known it would be. When on the 
 first holiday he took her to the public gar- 
 dens with Jovita, every one who passed them 
 
16 THE PRETTY SISTER OF JOSE. 
 
 gave her a second look ; many turned to 
 watch her; certainly there was not a man 
 who did not glance over his shoulder at the 
 bewitching girlish figure with the small 
 round waist, at the piquant radiant face, at 
 the well-carried little head with the red rose 
 blooming in its cloud of soft black hair. It 
 was not long before two or three who were 
 Jose's fellow-workmen sought him out and 
 greeted him with great warmth. They had, 
 it appeared, a great deal to say and many 
 attentions to lavish upon him. Such a fine 
 fellow, this Jose — such a good fellow — such 
 a workman -as was seldom seen in Madrid. 
 And what a fine day for pleasure. And the 
 Paseo de la Virgen del Puerto — there never 
 were such gardens for sport. And all the 
 time each one looked at Pepita, and lucky 
 indeed was the man with mother and sisters 
 to help him to make friends. And never 
 had old Jovita met with such civilities, and 
 encountered such deference. Pepita had the 
 
; ;v ,i^f\€? 
 
 When on the first holiday he took her to the public gardens with Jovita. 
 
THE PRETTY SISTER OF JOSE. 17 
 
 joy of a young bird in its first flight. The 
 air of gayety enlivening everything, the 
 people in their holiday clothes, the blue sky, 
 the sunshine, the cheap simple pleasures of 
 the day, were intoxicating delights to her. 
 She made friends with the girls and their 
 parents, and was even gracious to the young 
 men who hung about Jose, and somehow 
 seemed to find his neighborhood more attrac- 
 tive than any other. It was from one of 
 these young men (his name was Manuel) 
 she first heard of Sebastiano — the gay, the 
 wonderful, the renowned Sebastiano. He 
 had asked her, this Manuel, if she was going 
 to the Plaza de Toros to see the bull-fight 
 the following week, and when she said she 
 did not know — that she had never seen a 
 bull-fight — he found a great deal to say. He 
 described the wonders of the great bull ring, 
 where twelve thousand people could be ac- 
 commodated, and where grand and beautiful 
 ladies richly dressed and surrounded by their 
 
18 THE PRETTY SISTER OF JOSE. 
 
 lovers and husbands uttered cries of joy and 
 excitement as the fight became more danger- 
 ous, and both bulls and toreadors showed 
 greater courage and fire ; he described the 
 costumes, the music, the picadors dashing in 
 upon their horses ; the banderilleros with 
 their darts and ribbons ; the matador with 
 his reckless daring, his nerves and muscles of 
 steel, and his lightning leaps. And then he 
 described Sebastiano. Never before, it ap- 
 peared from his enthusiasm, had Madrid 
 known such a matador as Sebastiano. Never 
 one so handsome, so dashing, so universally 
 adored. When he appeared in the ring, what 
 a roar of applause went up. When he made 
 his proud bow to the president, and said, 
 " I go to slay this bull for the honor of the 
 people of Madrid and the most excellent 
 president of this tourney," and threw his hat 
 away and moved forward, waving his scar- 
 let cloak, what excitement there was awak- 
 ened. Songs were sung about him in the 
 
THE PRETTY SISTER OF JOSE. 19 
 
 streets, fans were ornamented with pictures 
 of his daring deeds, there were stories of 
 great ladies who had wept their eyes out for 
 love of him, and as to the women of his own 
 class, there was not a girl in Madrid who did 
 not dream of him. 
 
 "Why?" said Pepita, in her cold, soft 
 voice, and with the simply cold and curious 
 look in her great, richly lashed eyes. 
 
 " Because they are in love with him — all 
 of them," replied Manuel, sweepingly. 
 
 " Why ? " said Pepita, again. 
 
 " ' Why ? ' " Manuel echoed, somewhat be- 
 wildered by the frank, indifferent ignoring 
 of all natural reasons in this question — 
 " ' why ? ' Because he is so tall and strong 
 and well made, because he is handsome, 
 because he is more daring and graceful than 
 any of the others — because he is Sebastiano." 
 
 Pepita laughed, and opened and shut her 
 fan quickly. 
 
 " Why do you laugh ? " inquired Manuel. 
 
20 THE PRETTY SISTER OF JOSE. 
 
 "I was thinking how he must despise 
 them," she answered. 
 
 " Oh, no," said Manuel, who was not very 
 clever; "he is always good to women. 
 There was Sarita — a poor little thing who 
 had always lived in the country. She saw 
 him at her first bull-fight and was never 
 happy afterward. She could think of noth- 
 ing else, and she was too innocent to hide it. 
 She used to slip away from home and con- 
 trive to follow him when he did not see her. 
 She found a woman who knew some one 
 who knew him, and she gave her all her 
 little savings in presents to bribe her to be 
 her friend and talk to her about him. Once 
 or twice she met him, and because she was 
 such a pretty little one, he spoke kindly to 
 her and praised her eyes and her dancing. 
 He did not know she was in love with him." 
 
 Pepita laughed again. 
 
 ' ' Why do you do that ? " Manuel asked. 
 
 " He knew," said Pepita. " He would 
 
THE PRETTY SISTER OF JOSE. 21 
 
 think she was, even if she cared nothing for 
 him, and since she did care he would know 
 before she did and would be proud of it, and 
 make it as much worse as he could." 
 
 Manuel gazed at her a moment in silence, 
 twirling his rather small mustache. This 
 beautiful, cool, mocking little person, the 
 melting softness of whose eyes and lips 
 should have promised such feminine tender- 
 ness and emotion, bewildered him greatly ; 
 it was plain that she was wholly unmoved 
 by the glories of Sebastiano, and saw no 
 glamour in his romances. What other girl 
 would have asked " Why ? " — and in that 
 tone? It was difficult to go on with his 
 story. 
 
 " He could not help it that she was in love 
 with him," he said. " And she could not 
 help it." 
 
 " Why % " inquired Pepita for the third 
 time, and with a prettier coolness than 
 before. 
 
22 THE PRETTY SISTER OF JOSE. 
 
 "Why," stammered Manuel, "because — 
 because that is the way with all of them." 
 
 Pepita showed all her little gleaming teeth, 
 and then put the stem of a rose between 
 them and held it there like a cigarette as she 
 looked under her eyelashes at the people. 
 The rose was not as red as her scornful little 
 mouth. 
 
 " He was always kind to her when he saw 
 her," continued Manuel. " Once he gave her 
 his devisa. When she died she held it in 
 her hand and would not let it go. It was 
 buried with her. She was a pretty child — 
 Sarita — but she had always lived in the 
 country and knew nothing." 
 
 " I have always lived in the country and I 
 know nothing," said Pepita, mocking him 
 with her great eyes ; " but I can help any- 
 thing I choose. It should be the others who 
 cannot help it." 
 
 She thought him dull and tiresome, and 
 soon wished he would go away, but he could 
 
THE PRETTY SISTER OF JOSE. 23 
 
 not help it, and lingered about with all sorts 
 of stupid excuses. The more she bewildered 
 him, the more he was fascinated. It was 
 almost enough to stand and stare at her and 
 hear her voice as she talked to the others. 
 How pretty she was — that girl — how she 
 held her head as if she was some high-born 
 lady instead of a peasant ! When some 
 passer-by, more bold than the rest, made 
 (loud enough to be heard) some comment 
 upon her beauty, it did not disturb her in the 
 least — it was as if it were nothing to her. 
 Was it possible that there could live a girl 
 who did not care that she was so pretty? 
 But to imagine that she did not care was to 
 make a great mistake — she cared very much. 
 Ever since she had been a tiny child, her 
 little mirror and the water of the fountain 
 had reflected back to her this pretty face, 
 with its soft rose of cheek and mouth, its 
 dark liquid eyes, and soft babyish rings of 
 hair curling- on the forehead. She had 
 
24 THE PRETTY SISTER OF JOSE. 
 
 always heard too that she was pretty, and as 
 she had grown older she had found out some- 
 thing else, namely, that she had a power 
 more strong and subtle than that of her 
 beauty — a power people did not even try to 
 resist. She did not call it by any name her- 
 self or understand it in the least. She often 
 wondered at it, and even sometimes had a 
 childish secret terror lest the Evil One might 
 have something to do with it; particularly 
 when without making any effort, when 
 simply standing apart and looking on at the 
 rest, with a little smile she had drawn to her 
 side the stupid love-making for which she 
 cared nothing. It was not so with Dolores 
 and Maria and Isabella, who were pretty too. 
 Somehow, handsome as they were, they 
 must use their eyes on their lovers, they must 
 laugh and dance and talk to be adored, while 
 she need do nothing but be Pepita. 
 
 When, late that evening, she sat with Jose 
 under the vines, the air about them heavy 
 
THE PRETTY SISTER OF JOSE. 25 
 
 with jasmine and orange and lemon blos- 
 soms, she asked a great many questions 
 about the bull-fight. It must be a grand 
 thing to see — so many people, such gay 
 colors, such music. Jose could describe it 
 better than Manuel. He must tell her all 
 about it. 
 
 He described it as well as he could, and in 
 spite of his slow speech made quite an excit- 
 ing picture for her; or rather she found it 
 exciting, as she found all things just now 
 in their novelty. Before Jovita and she had 
 arrived, while he w T as making his small prep- 
 arations for them, he had seen a bull-fight 
 or so, and no point of detail had escaped his 
 deliberate mind. He always remembered 
 things — Jose. 
 
 " But you shall go," he said ; " you shall 
 go and see for yourself the very next time. 
 It comes next week. We will go and take 
 Jovita." 
 
 Pepita clapped her hands for joy. She 
 
2G THE PRETTY SISTER OF JOSfi. 
 
 sprang up and danced a few steps in her 
 childish delight. 
 
 " That will be happiness," she said. 
 "What happiness! Perhaps the king and 
 queen will be there ! " 
 
 " You will see Sebastiano," said Jose, 
 seriously. 
 
 " I do not care for Sebastiano," cried 
 Pepita, petulantly. 
 
 " You do not care," said Jose, in blank 
 amaze, " for Sebastiano ? You do not care ? " 
 
 Pepita shrugged her shoulders. 
 
 " They talk too much of him," she an- 
 swered, " and he is too vain. He thinks all 
 women are in love with him, and that if a 
 girl comes from the country she knows 
 nothing, and will die of love if she only sees 
 him." 
 
 " I did not know that," said Jose, staring. 
 " I never heard them say so. They call him 
 a fine fellow." 
 
 " I never heard them say so," Pepita 
 
THE PRETTY SISTER OF JOSE. 27 
 
 answered scornfully ; " but I know it. I am 
 sure he is a fool,'' which remark caused Jose 
 much bewilderment, and led him to reflect 
 long and deeply, but did not, however, lead 
 him to any conclusion but that Pepita was 
 ruled by one of her caprices. He was rather 
 afraid to admit that he himself had enjoyed 
 the magnificent honor of seeing this great 
 hero out of the ring ; that through a quite 
 miraculous favor he had even been allowed 
 to speak to him and to hear him speak as 
 he stood, the centre of a circle of admirers 
 in a wine-shop. He had been saving this to 
 tell Pepita, but now he thought it well to 
 save it a little longer. 
 
 But when the day of the bull-fight arrived 
 it was not possible to conceal it. 
 
 Ah! the wonders, the splendors of that 
 day from the first hour ! At its very dawn- 
 ing Pepita was up and singing. Jovita must 
 take her rest, that she might be in her best 
 humor to enjoy the festivities, and not spoil 
 
28 THE PRETTY SISTER OF JOSE. 
 
 them by grumbling. Pepita needed no rest ; 
 her little feet danced as she moved ; as she 
 made her preparations for the morning meal 
 she chatted incessantly to Jose, asking a 
 thousand questions. Everything conspired 
 to add to her joys. The sky was deep bril- 
 liant blue, but there was a light breeze to 
 make the heat bearable ; the birds sang until 
 their little throats throbbed ; the flowers in. 
 the garden seemed to have flung out new 
 masses of bloom to make the small world 
 about them brighter. In her chamber, near 
 the roof, Pepita's gala dress lay upon her 
 bed, her new little shoes upon the floor ; she 
 had seen them in the moonlight each time 
 she had awakened in the night. A year ago 
 it would not have seemed possible that such 
 pretty fineiy could ever be hers, even in 
 dreams ; but now almost anything seemed 
 possible in this new and enchanting life. 
 
 And when she was dressed how bewitch- 
 ing she was ! how her rose of a face glowed 
 
THE PRETTY SISTER OF JOSE. 29 
 
 and dimpled ! how enchanting was the vel- 
 vet darkness of her eyes ! how airy the poise 
 of her little black head, with its brilliant 
 flower tucked in at the side of the knot of 
 curly hair ! Jo vita stared at her and made 
 a queer half-internal sound of exclamation. 
 It was not her way to express approval at 
 all freely, and she had no opinion of people 
 who wasted time in telling girls they were 
 pretty. But Jose looked at the girl as he 
 might have looked at some rare tropical bird 
 which had suddenly flown into the house. 
 He looked and looked again, pulling his 
 mustache, his not always alert face warming. 
 
 " Yes, yes,'' he said, " it all looks very 
 well ; that dress is pretty. None of the 
 other girls will look better. Even Can- 
 dida—" 
 
 Pepita laughed. Candida had been con- 
 sidered a great beauty in the village they 
 had left, but she knew she was prettier than 
 Candida. 
 
30 THE PRETTY SISTER OF JOSE. 
 
 Jose laughed also, though he scarcely 
 knew why. Then with rather a cautious 
 and uncertain air he produced a gay fan — a 
 cheap one, but brilliant with color. 
 
 " This— " he began. 
 
 Pepita caught it from him, and unfurled it 
 with a quick turn of her wrist. On one side 
 was a picture — a clashing erect figure, in a 
 richly hued costume. 
 
 " It is Sebastiano," said Jose, guiltily. 
 
 Pepita nodded her head and smiled. 
 
 " I knew it," she said ; " I knew he would 
 look like that." 
 
 " There is no other man who can slay a 
 bull as he can," said Jose. 
 
 a Let him slaj 7 them," answered Pepita. 
 And she stood and waved her fan with the 
 prettiest inscrutable air in the world. 
 
 The journey to the Plaza de Toros was 
 almost as delightful as the bull-fight itself 
 to Pepita. The streaming crowds of people, 
 all bent in one direction, and all in their 
 
THE PRETTY SISTER OF JOSE. 31 
 
 gayest dress and mood, laughing, jostling 
 each other, chatting, exchanging salutations 
 and jokes, the grand carriages rolling by 
 with fine ladies and gentlemen in them, the 
 rattling old diligences, omnibuses, and tarta- 
 nes, whose passengers seemed more hilarious 
 than the occupants of the more splendid 
 equipages, the ringing of mule bells, the 
 shouts of drivers, the cracking whips, the 
 sunshine, the color, the very dust itself, all 
 added to the excitement of the hour. And 
 as they made their way through the throng, 
 it was again as it had been that first Sunday 
 at the Paseo de la Yirgen del Puerto, heads 
 turned and exclamations were uttered when 
 Pepita went by. And somehow it seemed 
 that Jose was better known than even he 
 himself had imagined, he received so many 
 greetings. The truth was that already those 
 who had seen the girl had spoken of her 
 among themselves and to others, their 
 readily fired Spanish natures aflame and 
 
32 THE PRETTY SISTER OF JOSE. 
 
 elate. And those who had not seen, but 
 only heard of her, were in as susceptible a 
 condition as the more fortunate ones. She 
 had been graphically and dramatically de- 
 scribed again and again, so that by many a 
 one she was recognized as " the pretty sister 
 of Jose." 
 
 That was what they called her — "the 
 pretty sister of Jose." She heard it half a 
 dozen times, but never once even so much as 
 lifted her long lashes. She was so used to 
 admiration that it was as if they spoke of 
 some one else, and it moved her not in the 
 least, as she sat watching the bulls, to know 
 that bold or languishing eyes dwelt upon 
 her face, and that efforts were being con- 
 stantly made to attract her attention. 
 
 It was a magnificent day — every one said 
 so; there were splendid bulls and splendid 
 dresses, and the fighters were in superb con- 
 dition. The people were in good spirits too 
 — the little breeze tempering the heat had, 
 
THE PRETTY SISTER OF JOSE. 33 
 
 perhaps, something to do with it. Every- 
 thing- pleased them ; they applauded wildly, 
 and uttered shouts of encouragement and 
 delight to bulls and toreadors alike. The 
 grand people were richly attired ; beautiful 
 ladies watched with excited eyes the bulls, 
 wearing their colors in rosettes of satin and 
 glittering tinsel ; the thousands of waving, 
 brilliantly hued fans fluttered like a swarm 
 of butterflies ; the music filled the air. Pe- 
 pita sat in a dream of joy, the color coming 
 and going on her cheeks, her rapture glow- 
 ing in her eyes. She was a Spanish girl, 
 and not so far in advance of her age that 
 the terrible features of the pastime going on 
 before her could obscure its brilliancy and 
 excitement. Truth to tell, she entirely for- 
 got Sebastiano, not even recognizing him in 
 the pageant of the grand entry, she was so 
 absorbed in its glitter and blaze of color. 
 But at the killing of the bull, that was 
 
 different. Just a moment before she had 
 3 
 
34 THE PRETTY SISTER OF JOSE. 
 
 awakened to the fact that Manuel was near 
 her — near enough to speak. He had been 
 staring at her, and growing more restless 
 every moment, until he had at last attracted 
 the attention of Jose and Jovita, and his first 
 words to her came amid shouts of applause 
 and delight. 
 
 " Sebastiano," he said ; " it is Sebastiano." 
 Pepita turned to look. With what a proud 
 and careless air he advanced; with what a 
 strong, light step ; how he held his head 
 and shoulders ; how his gold and silver gar- 
 nishings glittered ; how the people called to 
 him with a sort of caressing ecstasy ! They 
 adored him ; he was their idol. Yes, there 
 was a thrill in it, even for her cold heart. 
 She felt a quick pulsation. To be so proud 
 and triumphant and daring — to be the cen- 
 tral point of everything — to be able to 
 awake this exultant fervor — was something 
 after all. And he was beautiful too, though 
 she cared nothing for that, except as she 
 
THE PRETTY SISTER OF JOSE. 35 
 
 could see that it added to his triumphs and 
 made them more complete. His athletic 
 grace of bearing, his dark, spirited face, with 
 its passionate Andalusian eyes, their shadows 
 intensified by the close, long black lashes, the 
 very arch of his foot, and superb movement 
 of his limbs, would have set him apart from 
 ordinary, less fortunate mortals ; but to have 
 all this and be also the demi-god -of these 
 impassioned people, it must be worth living 
 for. If one cared for men, if one did not 
 find them tiresome, if one was simple enough 
 — like Sarita — to be carried away by things, 
 there was at least something in all this to in- 
 terest one a little. 
 
 " It is Sebastiano," said Jose. 
 
 But Sebastiano was addressing the presi- 
 dent of the games. He extended his glitter- 
 ing sword, and made his announcement in a 
 clear, rich voice. Pepita listened as he spoke. 
 And then the most thrilling excitement of 
 the sport began. It was no child's play 
 
30 THE PRETTY SISTER OF JOSE. 
 
 Sebastiano had before him. The fierce 
 black bull glaring at him with bent head 
 and fiery eyes, uttering low, muttering bel- 
 lowings of rage as he tore at the earth, 
 throwing up the dust in a cloud, Avas a foe 
 worthy of his mettle. He was a bull with' 
 vicious points and treacherous ones. Al- 
 ready goaded to fury by the play of the 
 picadors and banderilleros, he must be 
 watched, studied, excited, baffled ; not one 
 of his movements must be lost, or even 
 regarded as trifling ; wariness, quickness, 
 magnificent daring, the subtlest forethought, 
 all were needed. What play it was ! what 
 a match between brute cunning, power, and 
 ferocity, and human courage, adroitness, 
 and calculation ! The brilliant, graceful 
 figure was scarcely a moment in repose ; it 
 leaped and darted, the bright cloak wav- 
 ing, inviting, the bright sword glittering in 
 the sun — it toyed with death and peril, 
 evading both with an exultant grace and 
 
Jj^ 
 
 jt Sebastiano was addressing the president of the games, 
 
THE PRETTY SISTER OF JOSE. 37 
 
 swiftness marvellous to behold, and rousing 
 the on-lookers to shouts of joy and triumph. 
 Even old Jovita wakened to a touch of fire 
 which seemed like a renewal of her long- 
 past youth. Jose and Manuel joined their 
 cries with the rest. Pepita felt again — yes, 
 more than once — that sudden throb and thrill. 
 
 And when at last the end was reached, 
 with what a superb spring the last splendid 
 blow was given ! ISTo need of a second ; the 
 bull staggered, shuddered, fell forward upon 
 his knees, sank upon his side. Sebastiano 
 stood erect, a brilliant, careless, triumphant 
 figure again, the air resounding with deafen- 
 ing applause. 
 
 " You have seen him," cried Manuel to 
 Pepita — " you have seen Sebastiano ? " 
 
 " Yes," she answered, a little breathlessly, 
 " I have seen him." 
 
 And even as she spoke she knew that he 
 had seen her ; she knew it even before 
 Manuel spoke again in great excitement. 
 
38 THE PRETTY SISTER OF JOSfi. 
 
 " He looks this way — he looks at us — at 
 you." 
 
 It was quite true. Something had attracted 
 his attention to the tier of seats in which 
 they sat, some cry — who knows what ? — 
 perhaps some subtle magnetic influence. He 
 turned his head with a quick movement, and 
 his eyes fell and fastened themselves instantly 
 upon the brilliant little face glowing like 
 some bright flower among those humbler 
 and less blooming. 
 
 " He looks at you, Pepita," said Jose. 
 
 " He looks at } 7 ou and at Jovita," Pepita 
 answered. And she laughed and turned her 
 face away. 
 
 But not before Sebastiano had seen it well. 
 It was Fate. Yes, he knew that. He had 
 been loved often ; he had had romantic 
 adventures, but it had always been he who 
 had received and the others who had given ; 
 he had always remained Sebastiano, the hero, 
 the adored. And now he stood and looked 
 
THE PRETTY SISTER OF JOSE. 39 
 
 at a little head half concealed by a fan, and 
 forgot for a moment where he was, and that 
 the people were still shouting their applause 
 in deafening; tumult. 
 
CHAPTER II. 
 
 Pepita and the others, Manuel with them, 
 ended their gala-day with still another fes- 
 tivity. They dined together at a little cafe, 
 and heard the bull-fi^ht fought over again 
 by those around them. At a table near 
 them sat three chulos, who talked together 
 in voices loud enough to be heard through- 
 out their meal. And it was of Sebastiano 
 they spoke, giving dramatic recitals of his 
 daring deeds, telling each other of what he 
 had done, of what he could do, and that 
 Madrid had never seen his rival or peer. 
 And then his conquests. It was true that 
 noble ladies — beautiful and noble — had sent 
 him messages and tokens. Gonsalvo, who 
 was his intimate friend, could tell many 
 thing's if he chose. Sebastiano had brilliant 
 
TEE PRETTY SISTER OF JOSE. 41 
 
 triumphs. Once he had even been in great 
 danger because the woman who loved and 
 sought him was of such rank that her rel- 
 atives would have resorted to the stiletto 
 rather than allow her infatuation to con- 
 tinue. 
 
 " But it is said truly that he had no love 
 for her — that he has little for any of them," 
 said one. " They run after him too much, 
 these women." 
 
 " But there was one to-day — " began one 
 of the others. " I heard it of Alfonso — he 
 saw her at the bull-fight — Sebastiano — and 
 tried to find out — " 
 
 He made a movement at this moment 
 which brought Pepita directly within his view. 
 She had been hidden from him before by the 
 figure of Jovita. He stopped with his wine 
 untasted and stared at her. A moment later 
 he bent forward and spoke in a lower tone 
 to his companions, who turned to look also. 
 Alfonso had pointed her out to him as she 
 
42 THE PRETTY SISTER OF JOSE. 
 
 left the Plaza tie Toros, and he had recog- 
 nized her again. 
 
 " The little one is there," was what he 
 said, " behind you. He asked if any of us 
 had seen her before ; if we knew her name." 
 
 Pepita did not hear him, and did not know 
 that from that hour they would all know 
 her, or that at least there would be few of 
 them who did not. For Sebastiano to show 
 an interest in a woman, to even go so far as 
 to ask her name, was such a new thing that 
 it must be spoken of and attract attention to 
 her. And that she was not a fine lady, but 
 only a pretty unknown girl with a rose in 
 her hair, made the matter all the more excit- 
 ing. When she fell asleep, tired and happy, 
 that night, already she was on the road to 
 fame. Sebastiano, who was the adored of 
 his order, who in spite of his adventures 
 sought no woman, had asked her name, had 
 made efforts to discover it, and had learned 
 that anions: those who had had the good for- 
 
THE PRETTY SISTER OF JOSE. 43 
 
 tune to see and speak to her she was known 
 as " the pretty sister of Jose." 
 " A week from this time Jose came home 
 one evening bringing Manuel with him. 
 Manuel was often with him — in fact he had 
 many friends ; almost every day some gay or 
 grave young fellow managed to attach him- 
 self to him, and somehow the acquaintance al- 
 ways shared itself soon afterward with Pepita. 
 But Manuel appeared often er than the rest, 
 having a timid obstinacy, and seeming only 
 puzzled and not discouraged by the indiffer- 
 ence which sometimes ignored his very exist- 
 ence. On this particular evening he was 
 moved from his usual calm, and so was Jose. 
 They had seen Sebastia.no ; they had spoken to 
 him ; in the presence of a circle of his friends 
 and admirers he had drunk wine with them. 
 " We were passing the wine-shop and we 
 saw him," explained Manuel, " and we went 
 in to look on a little and hear him talk. 
 One of the chulos who stood near spoke to 
 
44 THE PRETTY SISTER OF JOSE. 
 
 him quickly when he saw us — as if he knew 
 us — and presently the same chulo came and 
 spoke to Jose, and soon Sebastiano came and 
 spoke too. The one who approached us first 
 was one of the three who drank at the table 
 near us on the evening after the bull-fight. 
 Once, in his boyhood, Sebastiano lived near 
 the village you left ; he knew Padre Ale- 
 jandro and some others ; he was pleased to 
 see Jose and speak of them — it was as if 
 they were friends at once." 
 
 " He has a good heart," put in Jose ; 
 "they all say that of him. He remembered 
 everything — even old Juan, who lived to be 
 a hundred and was bent double. He asked 
 if he lived yet. It seems strange that he 
 was once so near us, and was a little lad, 
 ill-used and poor. He is not too proud to 
 remember it. lie would be a good friend to 
 one in trouble — Sebastiano — though he is 
 rich and spoken of by the whole world." 
 
 So great a celebrity Jose was convinced 
 
THE PRETTY SISTER OF JOSE. 45 
 
 must be known to the entire universe. That 
 night, as Pepita made ready for her bed, old 
 Jovita, who had already retired, lay and 
 looked at her. 
 
 The girl stood in the flood of brilliant 
 white moonlight which bathed part of the 
 bare room ; her round dimpled arms were 
 lifted as she unwound the soft dusky coils of 
 her hair, to which there yet clung a few stars 
 of jasmine. There was the shadow of a smile 
 on her lips, and she was humming a tune. 
 
 " What does he want with Jose — this Se- 
 bastiano ? " said Jovita, grumblingly. 
 
 " Who knows ? " said Pepita. 
 
 "He wants something," Jovita went on. 
 " They don't make friends with those be- 
 neath them for nothing, these fine ones. 
 They all talk of you, these foolish fellows, 
 and he has heard, and makes friends so that 
 he can see you." 
 
 " What do they say of me ? " asked Pe- 
 pita, without deigning to look up. 
 
46 THE PRETTY SISTER OF JOSE. 
 
 " Men are all fools," grumbled Jovita ; 
 " and they think girls are fools too. They 
 say you have a pretty face ; and he thinks 
 he can make a fool of you if you are not one." 
 
 " Does he ? " said Pepita, with a dimpling 
 cruel little smile. " Let him come to-morrow 
 — to-night. Let him begin." 
 
 " He will begin soon enough," Jovita 
 answered. " You will see. Be sure he does 
 not play the old game with you as he did 
 with Sarita." 
 
 Pepita shook the small stray blossoms out 
 of her hair and began to retwist the coil, 
 breaking into singing in a clear voice : 
 
 " White, white is the jasmine flower ; 
 Let its stars light thee 
 Here to my casement, 
 Where I await thee. 
 White, white is the jasmine flower, 
 Sweet, sweet is the heart of the rose, 
 Sweet my mouth's blossom — " 
 
 She stopped short and dropped her arms. 
 
Ws 
 
 Pepita shook the small stray blossoms out of her hair. 
 
THE PRETTY SISTER OF JOSE. 47 
 
 " See," she said, " let him want what he 
 will, let him come a thousand times, and I 
 will never speak to him. 1 " 
 
 In the gardens the next Sunday they met 
 him. Pepita was talking to a young girl 
 whose name was Isabella, and whose brother 
 Juan was following in the footsteps of 
 Manuel and the rest. It was Isabella who 
 first saw the matador, and uttered an excla- 
 mation. 
 
 " Your brother is coming," she cried, 
 " with — yes, with Sebastiano." 
 
 Jose's simple face was on fire with delight, 
 but Sebastiano looked less gay, and his step 
 was less carelessly buoyant than it had been 
 in the bull-ring. As he approached the group 
 he looked only at Pepita. But Pepita looked 
 only at Jose, her eyes laughing. 
 
 4 " Jovita is cross," she said ; " she has been 
 asking for you. She wishes to go home." 
 
 Sebastiano's e} T es were fastened upon her 
 face, upon her red lips, as she sj)oke. He 
 
48 THE PRETTY SISTER OF JOSE. 
 
 had heard that she was like this ; that she 
 gave her glances to no man ; that she was 
 prettier than the rose in bloom, and as cruel 
 as a young hawk, and his heart beat as he 
 found himself near to her. Since the hour 
 he had seen her he had thought only of how 
 he might see her again, of how he might 
 find her. He had made one bold plan after 
 another, and had been forced to abandon 
 each of them, and then mere chance had 
 thrown Jose in his path. And now the 
 instant he approached her she was about to 
 elude him. 
 
 He spoke a few hurried words to Jose. 
 It was too early to go away ; the pleasure 
 of the day was scarcely at its height ; he 
 wished to entertain them ; the}' must not go. 
 
 " I will go and speak to Jovita," said Jose, 
 and he went, leaving the four together. 
 
 The two simpler ones were somewhat 
 abashed by the splendor of the dashing 
 figure ; they gazed at it w T ith mingled curi- 
 
THE PRETTY SISTER OF JOSE. 49 
 
 osity and joy. To be so near it was enough, 
 without effort at conversation. Sebastiano 
 moved to Pepita's side. A Spanish lover 
 loses little time. 
 
 " I saw you," he said, " at the bull-fight." 
 
 Pepita looked over his shoulder and smiled 
 at a passing woman who had greeted her. 
 Her face dimpled, and she showed her small 
 white teeth. It was as if she did not see the 
 matador at all. 
 
 " It was at the bull-fight," he persisted. 
 " Two weeks ago. You had a red flower 
 in your hair, as you have to-day. Ever 
 since — " 
 
 " It was not true," Pepita said gayly, to 
 Isabella, " what I said of Jovita. She is 
 always cross, but she does not wish to go 
 home. She met an old woman she knew in 
 her young days, and is enjoying herself very 
 much." 
 
 " Why did you say it % " asked Isabella, 
 with simple wonder. 
 
50 THE PRETTY SISTER OF JOSE. 
 
 " Because I wished to go home myself." 
 
 " Truly ! " said Isabella. " Why is that ? " 
 
 " I am not entertained so much to-day," 
 answered Pepita. 
 
 " We will make it more amusing," said 
 Sebastiano, eagerly. "It shall be more 
 amusing — ■" 
 
 " There is Jovita with her old woman 
 now," interrupted Pepita. " I will go and 
 speak to them." 
 
 She was gone the next instant — her move- 
 ment was like the flight of a bird. Sebas- 
 tiano stood and stared after her in silence 
 until Juan addressed him respectfully. 
 
 " She is very wonderful," he said. " She 
 changes her mind before one knows. Just 
 before you came she said she was amused, 
 and wished to remain." 
 
 " Perhaps," began Sebastiano, much dis- 
 comforted — " perhaps it was I — " 
 
 " Ah, senor," said Juan, with great polite- 
 ness, " never. It is said that she always does 
 

 1 
 
 
 
 . 
 
 
 
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 ' -V . .T^s^-^J^? ■*' "*'"' 
 
 _; j 
 
 --' ~ - : '/m00m PM ~>=r-,- 
 
 
 
 
 
 ■-I f / 
 
 OK 
 
 'We will make it more amusing," said Sebastiano, eagerly. 
 
THE PRETTY SISTER OF JOSE. 51 
 
 what she chooses, and she chooses to do a 
 thousand things." 
 
 " That is because she is so pretty," said 
 Isabella. " She is so much prettier than all 
 the others, and she does not care." 
 
 "A woman who is so pretty as that," 
 remarked Juan, sententiously, " need not 
 care." 
 
 " She says," put in Isabella, " that if she 
 does not care, others will ; but if she should 
 care, the others — " She stopped, meeting 
 Sebastiano's eyes and becoming a little con- 
 fused. 
 
 "What would happen then," he said, "if 
 she should care ? " 
 
 " I do not know," said Isabella ; " but she 
 never will — never." 
 
 But if she changed often toward others, 
 Sebastiano found no change in her mood 
 toward him. They did not leave the gar- 
 dens until late in the day. Jovita was enjoy- 
 ing too greatly the comradeship of her old 
 
52 THE PRETTY SISTER OF JOSE. 
 
 woman, and was ready to enjoy any pleas- 
 ure offered to her. Sebastiano had a full 
 purse, and perhaps understood old women 
 of Jovita's class. lie made himself very 
 agreeable to these two, finding them the 
 most comfortable seats and supplying them 
 with things good to eat and drink, over which 
 they gossiped together, leaving the young 
 ones to amuse themselves as they pleased. 
 They were very gay, the younger ones; 
 even Manuel, elated by the presence and 
 hospitalities of Sebastiano, made little jokes. 
 But none of them were gayer than Pepita- 
 She was the centre figure of the party ; they 
 all looked at her, listened to her, were led by 
 her slightest caprice. They went here and 
 there, did this or that, because she wished 
 it. It was Sebastiano who was the host of 
 the hour, but by instinct each knew it was 
 Pepita who was the chief guest — who must 
 be pleased. 
 
 " Is she pleased ? " the matador asked Jose 
 
THE PRETTY SISTER OF JOSE. 53 
 
 once in a low-toned aside. " Does she not 
 
 entertain herself ? " 
 
 " Does she not say so ? " answered Jose, 
 with some slight secret misgiving. 
 
 " I do not know," said Sebastiano, looking 
 down. " She does not speak to me." 
 
 Jose pushed his hat aside and rubbed his 
 forehead. His respect for Pepita's whims 
 had begun early in life and was founded on 
 experience. 
 
 " She is } r oung," he faltered — " she is very 
 young. When she enjoys herself she — " 
 
 He paused with an uneasy movement of 
 his shoulders. It was quite terrible to him 
 that she should treat with such caprice and 
 disdain so splendid and heroic a person ; but 
 he knew there was nothing to be done. 
 
 " She admires you," he said, with coura- 
 geous mendacity. " She saw you at the bull- 
 fight." 
 
 " She will be there again ? You will take 
 her — the next time?" said Sebastiano. 
 
54 THE PRETTY SISTER OF JOSE. 
 
 " Yes," answered Jose. " She has asked 
 that I will. It was the greatest pleasure of 
 her life." 
 
 But it was true that during all the after- 
 noon she had never once spoken to Sebas- 
 tiano. She had been as gay as a young bird, 
 and the spirit of the party, her laughter, her 
 pretty mockeries and sauciness, had carried 
 all before them. Manuel had been reduced 
 to hopeless slavery. Isabella had looked on 
 in secret reverential wonder. Jovita's old 
 woman had glanced aside again and again, 
 nodding her head, and saying, sagely : " Yes, 
 she will always have it her own way — the 
 little one. You are lucky in having such a 
 grandchild. She will never be a load." But 
 throughout it all Pepita had managed it 
 that not one of her words had fallen directly 
 to Sebastiano. If he spoke to her, she gave 
 her answer to the one nearest to him. If he 
 did not put an actual question to her, she 
 replied merely with a laugh or a piquant 
 
THE PRETTY SISTER OF JOSE. 55 
 
 grimace or gesture, which included all the 
 rest. It was worse than coldness. To the 
 others it was perhaps not perceptible at all ; 
 only he who searched for her eyes, who 
 yearned and strove to meet them, knew that 
 they never rested upon him for an instant. 
 
 And then when he so daringly arranged 
 that Jose should invite him to return home 
 with them, to what did it all come? He 
 was lured to old Jovita's side by the fact 
 that at the beginning of the walk Pepita 
 kept near her, and no sooner had the old 
 woman involved him in tiresome talk, from 
 which he could not escape, than the small 
 figure flitted away and ended the journey 
 homeward under the wing of Jose, and ac- 
 companied by Manuel and a certain gay 
 little Carlos, who joked and laughed like a 
 child. 
 
 And when after they arrived, and the 
 moon rose, and they sat under the vines, 
 though there was gayety and laughter, he 
 
56 THE PRETTY SISTER OF JOSE. 
 
 knew, as before, that in some mysterious 
 manner he was excluded from it, though he 
 seemed the honored and distinguished guest. 
 Carlos, who sat near some shrubs in bloom, 
 made a little wreath of white flowers, and as 
 she played and sang to her guitar, Pepita 
 wore it on her head. Then Manuel, not to 
 be outdone, wove a garland of pink oleander, 
 and she threw it about her throat and sang on. 
 Sebastiano forgot at last to speak, and 
 could only sit and look at her. He could see 
 and hear nothing else. It was almost the 
 same thing with the rest, for that matter. 
 She was somehow the centre figure round 
 which they all seemed to have gathered, as 
 she sat there playing, a night breeze some- 
 times stirring the soft ruffled hair on her 
 forehead, which was like black floss silk; 
 and whatsoever she sang, however passionate 
 and tender the wild little song, however 
 passionate and tender her voice, her young 
 eyes had mockery in them — mocked at the 
 
THE PRETTY SISTER OF JOSE. 57 
 
 words, the tenderness of her own voice, and 
 at those who were moved by it ; and most of 
 all Sebastiano knew that she mocked at 
 himself. 
 
 But he could not go away. Some strange 
 thing had happened to him, it seemed; it 
 was as if a spell had fallen upon him. Bet- 
 ter to be mocked than to go away. He stayed 
 so late that Jovita fell asleep and nodded 
 under the shadow of the grape-vines. And 
 at last Pepita put down her guitar and rose. 
 She stood upright in the moonlight, and ex- 
 tended her pretty arms and stretched them, 
 laughing. 
 
 " Good-night," she said. " Jovita will 
 amuse } r ou. Already there have been too 
 many hours in this day." 
 
 She ran into the house with no other adieu 
 than a wave of her hand, and the next 
 minute they could hear her singing in her 
 room, and knew she was going to bed. 
 
 Sebastiano rose slowly. 
 
58 THE PRETTY SISTER OF JOSfi. 
 
 " Good-night," he said to Jose. 
 
 Manuel and Carlos said good-night also, 
 and went out together, walking side by side 
 down the white moonlit road; but- Sebas- 
 tiano moved away from the shadowing vines 
 with a lingering step, and Jose went with 
 him a short distance. Something in his 
 hero's air of gravity and abstraction some- 
 what overawed him. 
 
 "She has not been entertained," said 
 Sebastiano at last. 
 
 " Yes, yes," said Jose. " She has had pleas- 
 ure all the day. And she is fond of pleasure." 
 
 " She said there had been too many hours 
 in the day." 
 
 Jose rubbed his head a little reflectively 
 for a moment, and then his countenance 
 somewhat brightened. 
 
 " She wished to lie a little for amusement," 
 he said, affectionately. " There is no wrong 
 in her — Pepita — but sometimes, to be amused, 
 she will tell a little lie without sin in it, 
 
THE PRETTY SISTER OF JOSE. 59 
 
 because she knows we understand her. She 
 does not expect us to believe. We who are 
 used to her know her better. You will also 
 understand in time." 
 
 "Then I may come again ? " asked Sebas- 
 tiano. 
 
 The heavy body of Jose almost trembled 
 with simple pleasure. 
 
 " It is all yours, senor," he said, with a 
 gesture including the little house and all the 
 grape-vines and orange blossoms and olean- 
 ders. " It is poor and small, but it is yours 
 — and we — " 
 
 Sebastiano's dark eyes rested for an instant 
 on a little window under the eaves where a 
 jasmine vine wreathed a thick tangle of 
 green, starred with white flowers. And as 
 he looked a voice broke through the fragrant 
 barrier singing a careless, broken bit of 
 song — 
 
 " White, white is the jasmine flower ; 
 Let its stars light thee." 
 
GO THE PRETTY SISTER OF JOSE. 
 
 " It is Pepita," said Jose. " She always 
 sings when she is pleased. It is always a 
 good sign." 1 
 
 If her singing was a sign of pleasure, then 
 she must have been enjoying her life greatly 
 in the days that came afterward, for she was 
 singing continually. As she went about her 
 work there was always the shadow of a 
 smile on her lips and in her eyes, as if her 
 thoughts amused her. And she was in such 
 gay spirits that Jose was enchanted. He 
 had only one vague source of trouble : all the 
 rest had turned out so well ! It had all oc- 
 curred just as he had dreamed, but scarcely 
 dared to hope, in those by-gone days when 
 he had been hard-worked and ill-fed and ill- 
 clad. He had a good place, and what 
 seemed by comparison incredibly good wages. 
 He had the nice little house, and Pepita had 
 holiday garments as gay and pretty as any 
 other girl, and looked, when dressed in them, 
 gayer and ten times prettier than all the rest. 
 
THE PRETTY SISTER OF JOSE. 61 
 
 That was what he had looked forward to 
 most of all, and his end was attained. And 
 when he walked out with her, all the } T oung 
 fellows who were allowed to come near — 
 and many who were not — fell in love. Yes, 
 it was true ; he saw it himself and heard it 
 on every side. It would take the fingers of 
 both hands to count those who were frankly 
 enamoured, beginning with Carlos and Man- 
 uel. But it was at this point that the vague 
 trouble came in. And it was Pepita her- 
 self who caused it, by her treatment of her 
 adorers. To say that she dealt out scorn to 
 them would be to say too much ; she simply 
 dealt out nothing — and less. They might 
 come and go ; they might follow and gaze 
 and sigh — she did not even deign to seem to 
 know they did so, unless by chance one be- 
 came too pertinacious, and then she merely 
 transfixed him with a soft, cruelly smiling eye. 
 " She will not marry any of them," said 
 Jose to Jovita in bewilderment. 
 
G2 TEE PRETTY SISTER OF JOSE. 
 
 " That will come soon enough," said Jo- 
 vita. " She is pretty, and it makes her a 
 little fool — all girls are like that ; but one of 
 these days you may look out — it will be all 
 over. She is just the one to blaze up all at 
 once." 
 
 " I do not think she is a fool like other 
 girls," said Jose, with gravity. " But she 
 does not seem to care about love ; she does 
 not seem to know. She is not even sorry for 
 them when they are miserable." He did not 
 consider himself when he thought of her 
 marriage ; in truth he put himself in the 
 background, for if some other man filled her 
 life and her heart his vocation would be 
 gone, and there would be some dull hours 
 for him before he could become used to it. 
 But he had an innocent feeling that without 
 this love, of which all men talked so much, 
 the life he wished to be bright would not be 
 quite complete. She was too pretty and too 
 good never to be married — never to have a 
 
TEE PRETTY SISTER OF JOSE. 63 
 
 home of her own and some fine fellow to 
 love the dust she walked on. He himself 
 was only Jose, and a brother was, after all, 
 a poor substitute for a lover who could talk 
 and sing and make jokes, and wear such a 
 dashing air that she would be proud of him. 
 
 " That is it," he said, sagely, to himself. 
 " A woman must have some one to be proud 
 of, and she could never be proud of me. If 
 I were Sebastiano now, it would be different." 
 
 He stopped suddenly and rubbed his head, 
 as his habit was when he was startled or 
 confused, and his face became rather red. 
 Perhaps this was because he remembered 
 that among all the rest, the magnificent, the 
 illustrious, the beautiful Sebastiano was the 
 one to whom she showed least grace. In 
 fact it was almost mysterious, her manner 
 toward him. They had seen him often — he 
 had come in many evenings to sit under the 
 vines ; when the} 7 went out for pleasure it 
 somehow happened that they nearly always 
 
GJ: THE PRETTY SISTER OF JOSE. 
 
 met him ; but when he joined them Pepita 
 became at once possessed of some strange 
 wilful spirit. Upon reflection Jose found 
 that he had never yet heard her speak to 
 him : it appeared to him as he thought it 
 over that she always by some device avoided 
 answering directly what he said to her. 
 
 " That is a strange thing," said Jose, 
 deeply mystified, as he suddenly realized 
 this, " when one remembers how he can slay 
 a bull. There is no one else who can slay a 
 bull as he can. It is enough to make one 
 weep for joy. And yet she can treat him 
 ill." 
 
 But he did not know how ill ; only Sebas- 
 tiano knew that. Since the day he had 
 stood in the arena and had seen all in a mo- 
 ment, as if a star had suddenly started into 
 the sky, the small black head and rose of a 
 face, he had lived in a fevered dream — a 
 dream in which he pursued always some- 
 thing which seemed within his grasp and yet 
 
TEE PRETTY SISTER OF JOSE. 65 
 
 forever eluded him. What had he cared for 
 
 all the rest of the women ? Nothing. It had 
 
 confused and angered him when they had 
 
 thrown themselves in his way or sent him 
 
 offerings, and when he had been told of 
 
 this or that beauty who was in love with 
 
 his proud bearing and dashing courage. 
 
 Women ! What were women ? He had 
 
 only cared for the bulls, for the clamor of 
 
 the people, and the wild excitement of the 
 
 arena. All he had wished for was to learn 
 
 the best stroke, the finest leap. But this 
 
 girl, who had never opened her scornful 
 
 little mouth to deign him a word — who had 
 
 never once allowed him to look in her eyes 
 
 — somehow this one drove him half mad. 
 
 He could think of nothing else; he forgot 
 
 even the bulls ; he spent all the day and 
 
 sometimes all the night in devising plans to 
 
 entrap her into speaking, to force her to 
 
 look at him. How obstinate she was ! How 
 
 she could elude him, as if by some magic ! 
 5 
 
66 THE PRETTY SISTER OF JOSE. 
 
 What had he not done that he might be near 
 her? He had followed her ever} T where. 
 Jose did not know that she scarcely ever 
 went out "without his following and speaking 
 to her. He used to spring up by her side as 
 if he had risen out of the earth, but after 
 the first two or three times he never suc- 
 ceeded in making her start or show any feel- 
 ing whatever. 
 
 But that first time, and even the second, 
 she had started. The first time she had gone 
 to the old "well for water, and as she stood 
 resting in the shade a moment he appeared 
 with a bouquet of beautiful strange flowers 
 in his hand. 
 
 " God be with you ! " he said, and laid the 
 flowers down a moment and drew the water 
 for her. 
 
 She watched him draw it, smiling just a 
 little. 
 
 " It will be a fine day for the bull-fight," 
 he said, when her jar was filled. 
 
THE PRETTY SISTER OF JOSE. 67 
 
 She put her hand up and shaded her work- 
 ing eyes as she looked at the blue sky, but 
 she said nothing. 
 
 " Do you go to-day to the Plaza de Toros?" ' 
 
 'he asked. "You shall have good places — 
 
 the best. They are good bulls to-day, black 
 
 Andalusians, fierce and hard to manage. 
 
 There will be fine sport. You will go 1 " 
 
 She leaned against the side of the well 
 and looked down into the water, where she 
 could see her face reflected in the cool, dark 
 depths. The next moment Sebastiano's was 
 reflected also. He held the flowers in his 
 hand. 
 
 " These ! " he said. " It was one of the 
 gardeners of the king who gave them to me. 
 They are such as the queen sometimes wears. 
 I brought them that you might w T ear them 
 at the bull-fight." 
 
 She saw their beauty reflected in the water. 
 She would not look at them directly. They 
 were very beautiful. She had never seen 
 
68 THE PRETTY SISTER OF JOSE. 
 
 such flowers. And the queen herself had 
 "worn others like them. If any one else had 
 brought them — but it was Sebastiano. And 
 she remembered Sarita. Perhaps he had at 
 some time given some to Sarita, knowing 
 that to a country girl who knew nothing 
 they would seem very grand. Sarita would 
 have been sure to take them. 
 
 A wicked little look came into her face. 
 She turned as if to take up her water jar. 
 But Sebastiano laid his hand upon it. 
 
 " You will not speak," he said passion- 
 ately. " No ; nor even look at the flowers I 
 bring you. You shall tell me at least what 
 I have done. Come, now. Am I a devil ? 
 What is it?" 
 
 She put her hands behind her back and 
 fixed her great eyes upon him for a moment. 
 He could not say now that she had not 
 looked at him. He thought he could keep 
 her, did he, when she did not choose to stay? 
 She, Pepita! She stood there staring at him 
 
^M$t 
 
 
 She leaned against the side of the well. 
 
THE PRETTY SISTER OF JOSE. 69 
 
 for a moment, and then turned about and 
 walked off, leaving him with her water jar. 
 Let him stand and watch over it all day if 
 he would. 
 
 She went back to the house and called 
 Jovita. 
 
 " If } T ou want your water now," she said, 
 " you will have to go to the well for it. It 
 is drawn, and Sehor Sebastiano is taking care 
 of it." 
 
 " JMother of God ! " said Jovita, staring, 
 " she is mad with her Sehor Sebastiano." 
 
 But not another word could she gain, and 
 before she could reach the well she met a boy 
 carrying the water jar toward the house, and 
 was told that he had been paid to bring it. 
 
 They went to the bull-fight; and, asPepita 
 sat among; the rest, out-blooming 1 the red 
 flower in her hair, she heard it said that 
 Sebastiano had never before been so mag- 
 nificent, had never shown such daring and 
 dexterity. 
 
70 THE PRETTY SISTER OF JOSA 
 
 u IIe looks at Pepita," said Isabella to 
 Carlos. " When he entered, his eyes found 
 her before he saw anything else." 
 
 Yes, he saw Pepita, and Pepita sat and 
 watched him with as cool an interest as if 
 the peril with which he played meant noth- 
 ing. Her lovely eyes glowed under their 
 drooping lashes, but it was only with a mo- 
 mentary excitement caused by the fierce 
 sport; the man was nothing. 
 
 So it seemed at least to Sebastiano. It 
 was a bad bull he encountered, savage and 
 treacherous, and maddened by his rage. Once 
 there was a moment when a shadow of a 
 misstep would have cost him his life. There 
 was no time to look at Pepita then, but when 
 the danger was passed and he glanced to- 
 ward her, she was softly waving her fan and 
 smiling up at Manuel as if she had not even 
 seen. 
 
 " She has a bad heart," he said to himself, 
 with fierce impatience. " It is not nature that 
 
THE PRETTY SISTER OF JOSE. 71 
 
 a young girl should mock at everything, and 
 be so cruel, and have neither feeling nor 
 even a little fear. She has a bad heart, or 
 none at all." 
 
 He would not look at her again ; he swore 
 it to himself. And for a short time he kept his 
 vow ; but there came a moment when some- 
 thing, some irresistible feeling, conquered 
 him. It was as if he must look — as if some 
 magic forced him, drew his eyes toward 
 her in spite of himself. And when he had 
 looked, a sharp shock thrilled him, for she 
 herself was looking at him ; her eyes were 
 fixed upon him with a strange steadiness, as 
 if perhaps they had been resting upon him for 
 some minutes and she had forgotten herself. 
 It was a little thing perhaps, but it was 
 enough for his hot blood and swift-veerincr 
 impulsive nature. He had just given the 
 final stroke ; he was panting, glowing. The 
 people were shouting, rising in their seats, 
 and repeating his name with caressing, ap- 
 
72 THE PRETTY SISTER OF JOSE. 
 
 plauding epithets attached to it. Chance 
 had brought him near the seat in which she 
 sat, with Jovita and Jose and the others 
 near her. They were applauding with the 
 rest, all but Pepita, who only sat and smiled. 
 And in the midst of it Sebastiano made a 
 swift movement, so swift that it was scarcely 
 to be understood — a mere touch of the hand 
 to the shoulder — and something bright, like 
 a many-hued bird, flew over the barrier and 
 fell upon Pepita's lap. It was the knot of 
 gay, rich ribbon which a moment before the 
 matador had worn. 
 
 " It is the devisa ! " exclaimed Isabella, in 
 an awestruck tone. 
 
 " It is his devisa" cried Jose — " his devisa, 
 Pepita. He has thrown it to you yourself — 
 Sebastiano." 
 
 The next moment he was struck dumb 
 with amazement. Pepita sat upright and 
 broke into a little laugh. She lightly waved 
 her fan. 
 
THE PRETTY SISTER OF JOSE. ^3 
 
 " Why did he not throw it to Jovita ? " 
 she said, and with a cruel, careless little 
 movement she swept the devisa from her 
 knee ; it fell, and she set her foot upon 
 it. 
 
 " She has trodden upon it," said old 
 Jovita. " She has done it for pride, and to 
 show herself above others. She is ready for 
 the devil. Some one should beat her." 
 
 " It was the devisa" gasped Jose. " Se- 
 bastiano." 
 
 Pepita left her seat. It seemed as if some- 
 thing strange must have happened to her. 
 The crimson had leaped to her cheeks, and 
 her eyes were ablaze. 
 
 " What is it to me, his devisa f " she said. 
 " I do not want it. I will not have it. Let 
 him throw a thousand, and I will tread upon 
 them all, one after the other. Let it lie in 
 the dirt. Let him give it to those others, 
 those women who want it — and him." She 
 would go home at once ; not to the pleasure- 
 
74 THE PRETTY SISTER OF JOSE. 
 
 gardens, not anywhere but back to the cot- 
 tage ; and Jose followed her meekly, struck 
 dumb. lie had seen her wilful, capricious, 
 childishly passionate, a little hard to under- 
 stand, many times before, but never like 
 this. What had occurred to her ? What 
 had Sebastiano done ? 
 
 Jovita had picked up the knot of gay 
 ribbon and brushed the dust off it, and car- 
 ried it home with her, grumbling fiercely. 
 She was never averse to grumbling a little, 
 and here, the saints knew, was cause. 
 
 " For pride," she kept repeating ; " for 
 pride, and to show that others are beneath 
 her ! Mother of God ! the king himself is 
 not frood enough for her! Let him come 
 and pray upon his knees that she will go to 
 the palace and wear a crown, and he will 
 see what she will say ! It is these fools of 
 men who spoil her, as if there had never 
 been a pretty face before. Let them treat 
 her as she treats them, and she will be hum- 
 
THE PRETTY SISTER OF JOSE. 75 
 
 ble enough. She was always one of the 
 devil's children with her pride ! " 
 
 But Pepita, who heard it all, said nothing, 
 though once or twice she gave her little 
 mocking laugh. 
 
CHAPTER III. 
 
 By the time Pepita had reached home her 
 mood had changed — her anger was gone, or 
 at least the signs of it were. She sang as 
 she prepared the supper, and chatted gayly 
 with Jose. It appeared that, after all, she 
 had enjoyed the bull-fight ; it had even been 
 better than the others ; she had had great 
 pleasure. She made delightful little jests 
 about everything ; she recounted the names 
 of the people she had seen and known ; she 
 described to him the dresses of the girls, the 
 airs and graces of the men. She laughed, 
 and obliged Jose to laugh also, and all the 
 time she looked so pretty, with the queer 
 light in her eyes, the gleam of her little 
 wicked white teeth, and the brilliant spot of 
 
TEE PRETTY SISTER OF JOSE. ?7 
 
 color on her cheeks, that she was enough to 
 turn one's head. 
 
 The moon was at its brightest that night. 
 All the earth was bathed in pure, magic 
 whiteness — the whiteness which somehow 
 seems to bring perfume and stillness and 
 mysterious tenderness with it. Such a night ! 
 One breathed roses and orange blossoms and 
 jasmine. Pepita sat under the roses and 
 sang and talked, and Jose smoked and was 
 happy, but still in a state of bewilderment, 
 though the stillness and beauty of the night 
 soothed him and made him content to rumi- 
 nate without words. 
 
 Jovita fell asleep. She always fell asleep 
 out-of-doors on the warm summer nights, 
 and in-doors by the fire when it was winter. 
 Pepita ceased to talk, and sang one little song 
 after another ; then she even ceased to sing, 
 and only touched her guitar softly now and 
 then. After a while Jose, who had stretched 
 himself upon a bench, fell asleep also. 
 
78 TIIE PRETTY SISTER OF JOSE. 
 
 Pepita ceased to touch her guitar. She 
 looked out at the flowers sleeping in the 
 moonlight, and for a few minutes was very- 
 still ; then she laid the guitar down and 
 stepped out into the brightness. 
 
 In the light of the moon one cannot see 
 the color in a face. Perhaps this was why 
 hers seemed to be gone. She looked quite 
 pale, and her lovely little brows were drawn 
 together until they made a black line across 
 her forehead. She clasped her hands behind 
 her head, and with her face a little thrown 
 back, so that the light fell full upon it, wan- 
 dered out among the trees and fragrant 
 flowering things. She liked the jasmine 
 best, and over one part of the low, rough 
 wall there climbed one which blossomed 
 with a myriad stars. So she went and stood 
 by it, and looked now at it, now up and 
 down the road, which the moon had made 
 into a path of snow. 
 
 And as she stood there, suddenly there 
 
'Am 
 
 V 
 
 She clasped her hands benind her head. 
 
THE PRETTY SISTER OF JOSE. 79 
 
 started up on the other side of the wall the 
 figure she knew so well, and the next mo- 
 ment it had vaulted over and was close to 
 her. Sebastiano ! 
 
 She stood still, her hands still clasped be- 
 hind her head, her face still upturned, and 
 looked at him. 
 
 He folded his arms and looked at her. 
 As for him, whether the moonlight was to 
 blame or not, he was as pale as death. 
 
 " Yes," he said, "you are always the same. 
 You do not change. One may come at any 
 hour. But listen to me. You think I have 
 come to reproach you. Why should I % I 
 have fought bulls, but that does not teach 
 men how to deal with women. I thought 
 that, if a man gave you his soul and his life 
 and the breath of his body, you would listen 
 some day and let him think of you. You 
 are a woman, and you are made to be loved ; 
 but there is something hard in your heart. 
 You are proud of having mocked a man who 
 
80 THE PRETTY SISTER OF JOSE. 
 
 was honest and loved yon. But hear me : it 
 is better, after all, to be less pretty and more 
 a woman." 
 
 He stopped an instant. She had changed 
 her position, and stood by the jasmine, strip- 
 ping the blossoms from it one by one. She 
 began to smile and sing softly, as if to herself : 
 
 " Oh, bird at rny window, 
 Sing but one song to me, 
 My lover who is light and gay." 
 
 " And more a woman," said Sebastiano. 
 " It is women men want." 
 
 Pepita looked up and laughed ; then she 
 sang again : 
 
 " Who stirs the blossoms in the night, 
 Who breaks the orange flower." 
 
 Sebastiano made a swift movement and 
 caught her wrists, his eyes flashing fire. 
 
 " That is nothing," he said. " You are 
 woman enough. The time will come. It will 
 not be always like this. You can be made 
 
THE PRETTY SISTER OF JOSE. 81 
 
 to love. Yes, you are one of those who 
 must be made. Then you will suffer too, 
 and it will be good for you. You will speak 
 then." 
 
 He paused a moment, and held her arms a 
 little apart, looking at her with a sudden 
 change to mournfulness. 
 
 " How pretty you are ! " he said. " How 
 
 little and how pretty ! If you were good 
 
 and gentle, and one might touch your cheek 
 
 softly or stroke your hair, how one would 
 
 love and serve you ! No, you cannot move. 
 
 I have not fought bulls for nothing. If I 
 
 let you move you will struggle and hurt 
 
 yourself. Listen. I am going away. I will 
 
 trouble you no more now. I will wait. If 
 
 one waits long enough, pain ceases and one 
 
 forgets. It is so with a wound, why not 
 
 with what one feels for a woman ? I said 
 
 you could be made to love ; but let that be 
 
 left for another man to do. I want no love 
 
 like that. I want a woman. Some day you 
 6 
 
82 THE PRETTY SISTER OF JOSE. 
 
 will not cast the devisa under your feet. 
 You will take it and hide it in your breast. 
 It will not be mine, but some other man's 
 who loves you less. I loved you. I was mad 
 for you ; but it shall cease. It is better to 
 think only of the bulls than to play the fool 
 for a woman who has no love in her heart. 
 You are pretty, but that is not everything. 
 You can work spells, but a man can break 
 through them. There ! Go ! " 
 
 He gave her one long look, flung her hands 
 aside, and had vaulted the w r all and was gone 
 himself one moment later. 
 
 Pepita stood still with clinched hands 
 dropped at her side, staring with wide fierce 
 eyes down the white moonlit road. 
 
 The next evening Jose came home from 
 his work later than usual. He came down 
 the road with a drooping head and a slow 
 and heavy step. When he sat down to his 
 food he ate but little, and as he bent over his 
 soup he heard Jo vita scolding. 
 
THE PRETTY SISTER OF JOSE. 83 
 
 " It is gone," she was saying. " You took 
 it, and have thrown it away." 
 
 " Was it not mine 1 " said Pepita. " It 
 was mine. I cared nothing for it, and have 
 done what I chose with it." 
 
 Jose lifted his head and listened. 
 
 " What has happened % " he asked. 
 
 " She has thrown away the devisa, which I 
 had saved," answered Jo vita. " I laid it away, 
 and she has taken it. What harm did it do 
 her that it should lie out of her sight in 
 peace ? " 
 
 " Did you do that ? " Jose said to Pepita. 
 
 " Was it meant for her ? " said Pepita. " I 
 told you he ought to have thrown it to her 
 and not to me." 
 
 Jose broke a piece of bread and crumbled 
 it on the table mechanically. 
 
 " You need not have done that," he said. 
 " I wish you had left it in its place. It did 
 no hurt, and we shall not see him again. 
 He is not coming' anv more. And soon he 
 
84: TEE PRETTY SISTER OF JOSE. 
 goes away ; and who knows what may hap- 
 
 pen 
 
 ?" 
 
 Pepita walked out of the house without 
 speaking. She did not come back for a long 
 time, and they did not know where she had 
 gone ; but as that was her way when she 
 was in a naughty humor, they were not 
 anxious about her. 
 
 When she returned at last the moon was 
 shining again, and Jovita was asleep in the 
 shadow of the vines, and Jose sat on the 
 bench outside the door, smoking. 
 
 Pepita sat down on the threshold and 
 rested her head against the side of the door. 
 She said nothing at all, and only looked out 
 at the dew-laden flowers sparkling in the 
 garden. 
 
 There was silence for several minutes, and 
 then Jose turned uneasily and spoke. 
 
 "Yes," he said, "he will not come again ; 
 and soon he goes away. It is for the best. 
 He is very strong and determined. Perhaps 
 
IL^ivfcAilL&i:**, 
 
 Pepita sat down on the threshold and rested her head against the side of the doo.\ 
 
THE PRETTY SISTER OF JOSE. 85 
 
 that comes of fighting bulls. He said he 
 wanted you, but you did not want him, so 
 he must forget about you. He must cease to 
 think of you or hear of you. He asked me 
 as a friend not to let him see me for a while, 
 until it was over. To see me would remind 
 him of you, and that would not do. He 
 asked it as a friend — there was no unkind- 
 ness — he is my friend, yes, though he is 
 Sebastian o and I am only a poor fellow who 
 works hard. It will all be as well as ever 
 between us when it is all done with and we 
 meet again. If you had wanted him we 
 should have been brothers." 
 
 Pepita sat still. AVhat strange thing had 
 happened to her ? She did not know. 
 Something was the matter with her breath- 
 ing. Something hurt her side — labored in it 
 with heavy beatings like blows which suffo- 
 cated her. She shut her hands and drove 
 the nails into her palms. She could not have 
 spoken for the world. 
 
86 THE PRETTY SISTER OF JOSE. 
 
 Before Jose could say more she rose with 
 fierce suddenness, and passed him and was 
 gone again. 
 
 The poor fellow looked after her small 
 swift form mournfully. 
 
 " If she had wanted him," he said, " he 
 would have made her a good husband, and 
 we should have been brothers. But she is 
 not easy to please, and she would not give 
 one a chance who did not please her at first. 
 And there is no one who slays a bull as he 
 does ! " 
 
 Pepita flew like a bird until she reached 
 the low wall where the jasmine grew, at the 
 spot where she had stood the night before. 
 There she stopped, panting. The breath of 
 the jasmine filled all the air about her. She 
 looked up the white road. 
 
 A strange new passion filled her. She did 
 not know whether it was anger or not, but 
 if it was anger it was of a new kind, with 
 more pain in it than she was used to. He 
 
THE PRETTY SISTER OF JOSE. 87 
 
 would not come again — not at all again ! 
 He would not appear at her side as if he had 
 sprung from the earth ; he would not follow 
 her or plead with her, or look at her every 
 moment he was near her ; he would not try 
 to make her speak. Only last night he was 
 here in this very spot, and now he would 
 never speak like that again. He would 
 forget her, not care for her — forget her, 
 Pepita. 
 
 She would not believe it. She knew he 
 could not — they never did ; they always 
 loved her best and wanted no one else. And 
 still the labored throbbing went on in her 
 side and she panted for breath. 
 
 " Come back," she cried, looking up the 
 white road. " I tell you to come back. 
 You shall. Do you hear ? I tell you — I — 
 Pepita ! " 
 
 But there was no answer, no sound of any 
 footstep, no sign of any advancing shadow. 
 The road stretched out its white length in 
 
88 THE PRETTY SISTER OF JOSE. 
 
 utter solitude, and a strange, wild look came 
 into her beautiful little face. 
 
 " Do } r ou not hear ? " she persisted. " I 
 wiU not speak to you if you do come ; I 
 Avill give you nothing ; I will not look at 
 you ; but you shall come because I will it — 
 because I am Pepita." 
 
 Still there was only silence and loneli- 
 ness. Suddenly she flung out her hands and 
 stamped her foot. 
 
 " I will kill you," she said. " If you do 
 not come — I will kill you ! " 
 
 Then almost immediately she put her 
 clinched hand to her beating side and sank 
 down upon the earth, burying her face in 
 the dew-wet fragrant tangle of the jasmine. 
 
 But he did not come back. And yet every 
 night she went and stood by the low wall, 
 and looked up the white road and watched 
 and waited. For a long time she did not 
 know what she intended to do if he should 
 
THE PRETTY SISTER OF JOSE. 89 
 
 appear. All was vague in her mind. At 
 first it seemed only as if her whole being 
 went out into the fierce demand that he 
 should come, and the obstinate proud belief 
 that it must be as she wished — that he could 
 not resist and disobey her. Who had ever 
 disobeyed her? Not Jose; not Jovita, for 
 all her grumblings ; not any of those others. 
 And was it likely that he who had adored 
 her more than all the rest, who had watched 
 her with that hungry love in his eyes, could 
 do what no other had ever done? She told 
 herself this over and over again ; but he did 
 not come. She began to feel a feverish 
 eagerness when she dressed herself, a pas- 
 sionate desire to be pretty — to be prettier 
 than ever before. She used to stand before 
 her scrap of looking-glass to try on one bit 
 of simple finery after another, twisting up 
 the soft cloud of her hair afresh a dozen 
 times a day, and putting a fresh flower in it. 
 She went to the well again and again and 
 
90 THE PRETTY SISTER OF JOSE. 
 
 filled her jar, and emptied and filled it again, 
 and lingered, and tried not to look round 
 when she heard a footstep ; but the right one 
 never came, though her heart's throbbing 
 shook her many times in false alarm. She 
 was only a child — a passionate Spanish child, 
 ignorant and full of fierce young natural 
 impulses — and she knew only childish, crude 
 methods. So she made herself beautiful, and 
 showed herself in the places where she 
 thought he would see her and be unable to 
 resist her will and her beauty ; but though 
 she made Jose take her here and there and 
 everywhere, she never saw Sebastiano but 
 once. It was in the Public Garden, where 
 they had first met. They were sitting in the 
 shade refreshing themselves with wine, and 
 he came toward them, not at first seeing 
 them. Pepita clutched her fan until she 
 broke it, and a wild exultation sprang in her 
 breast. She had seen before she left home 
 that she had never before been so pretty. 
 
THE PRETTY SISTER OF JOSE. 91 
 
 There had come into her face a new look — 
 a fire that had burned deeper every charm. 
 He would see — he would see that she was 
 Pepita still, and that he could not keep his 
 word if she chose — if she chose. 
 
 He drew nearer and nearer, still not seeing 
 them. He was talking to the three com- 
 panions who were with him. He was richly 
 dressed, and looked stronger than ever, and 
 more handsome and graceful. He came still 
 nearer. No, she would not speak to him. 
 No ! He looked up and his eye fell upon 
 them — upon Jose and Jovita and Pepita! 
 He drew back a step and stood still ; he made 
 a low bow to them, a grand bow, such as he 
 made when he was in the bull-ring and the 
 people applauded. He turned away and 
 passed on. Yes, without a word. 
 
 Jose sighed a deep and mournful sigh and 
 rose to his feet. 
 
 " Come," he said. " We must go. It is 
 best not to stav. He does not wish to see 
 
92 THE PRETTY SISTER OF JOSE. 
 
 us, and he asked that I would keep away. 
 It is a pity — but he asked it." 
 
 The breath was coming in sharp little puffs 
 through Pepita's delicate nostrils. It was as 
 if she had been struck a blow. She walked 
 home as in a sort of delirium ; she saw none 
 of those who turned to look at her. She 
 walked faster and faster. Jovita could not 
 keep pace with her. 
 
 " What is the matter ? " said the old wo- 
 man. u You walk as if you had a devil 
 in you. Your breath is all gone. Are you 
 mad ? " 
 
 At night, when they sat together, Pepita 
 spoke of the next bull-fight. Jose must take 
 her. She wished to go. 
 
 " It is better that we should not go there," 
 said Jose. " You know w T hy. He will not 
 like to see you. You saw how it was to-day. 
 He is not angry, only he is determined not 
 to be reminded. Soon he will go away, and 
 then you shall go with me as often as you 
 
THE PRETTY SISTER OF JOSE. 93 
 
 wish ; but not now. After this week he will 
 be far away — far away." 
 
 " I will go now," said Pepita. '* I will go 
 without you if you will not take me. Isa- 
 bella and Juan and Manuel will be glad 
 enough. Let him — let him look at his 
 bulls." 
 
 She did not know that it was desperation 
 that had seized upon her ; she thought it was 
 defiance. Yes, yes, she told herself, breath- 
 lessly, he should see her laugh and talk with 
 Manuel and Carlos and Juan and the rest ; 
 and then he would be punished. 
 
 She would hear nothing that Jose said. 
 She would go — she would go. jSTo other 
 bull-fight but this would please her. 
 
 She could scarcely live until the day ar- 
 rived. She had made for herself a new gala 
 dress ; she had a new fan and a necklace she 
 had bought out of her little savings. 
 
 There was a great crowd. It was known 
 that Sebastiano was to go away, and many 
 
94 THE PRETTY SISTER OF JOSE. 
 
 had come for that reason, wishing to see him 
 for the last time in the season. 
 
 At first Pepita was gayer than her adorers 
 had ever seen her. She deigned to talk and 
 smile and listen. She had the restlessness 
 and color of some brilliant-winged bird. Isa- 
 bella looked at her in wonder. 
 
 " She was never like this before," she whis- 
 pered to Juan. 
 
 And then Sebastiano came, and for the 
 time they saw onty him. 
 
 When at last the bull la}* an inert mass in 
 the dust, and the people shouted and almost 
 flung themselves from their places into the 
 arena in their excitement, and the gay and 
 superb actor bowed to them — bowed to them 
 again and again — -Pepita sat like a little 
 image of stone. She was quite colorless, 
 and her eyes were fixed. She seemed to 
 hear and see nothing until some one spoke to 
 her. Then she rose and looked at Manuel. 
 
 " It is too hot," she said, in a low voice not 
 
THE PRETTY SISTER OF JOSE. 95 
 
 like her own. " I must go. The sun. I have 
 a pain in rny head. Come." 
 
 He had not lifted his eyes once to her. It 
 was as if she had not lived — as if she had 
 been Isabella or Carmenita — and he did not 
 give her a thought. No, he had not once 
 looked up. 
 
 The next day he was gone. She heard 
 Jose say so to Jovita, who grumbled loudly. 
 She had forgotten her old distaste for these 
 "fine ones." 
 
 " And but for her humors he would have 
 stayed," she said. " What more does she want 
 than a fine well-built man like that — a man 
 who is well-to-do, and whom every other girl 
 would dance for joy to get ? But no ; nothing 
 but a prince for her. Well, we shall see. 
 She will work for her bread herself at last, 
 and serve the other women who have homes 
 and husbands." 
 
 In the middle of the night she was wak- 
 ened from her slumbers by something — she 
 
9G THE PRETTY SISTER OF JOSE. 
 
 knew not what. Soon she perceived it was 
 Pepita, trembling. 
 
 " What is it now ? " demanded the old 
 woman. 
 
 " I sta} r ed out in the dew too long," said 
 Pepita, "and I am cold." 
 
 " That is well," said Jovita. " Get chilled 
 through and have a fever, that we may ruin 
 ourselves with doctors' bills ; and all because 
 vou choose to remain in the nisrht air when 
 you should be asleep." 
 
 Pepita lay on her pillow, her eyes wide 
 open in the darkness, her small hot hand 
 clutching against her breast something she 
 had hung round her neck bv a bit of ribbon. 
 It was the devisa she had stolen from Jovita, 
 and which had not been thrown away at all. 
 In the daytime it was hidden in the bosom 
 of her dress ; at night it hung by a cord and 
 her hand held it. By this time a sort of ter- 
 ror had mingled itself with her passion of 
 anger and pain, and she lay trembling be- 
 
THE PRETTY SISTER OF JOSE. 97 
 
 cause she was saying to herself again and 
 again : 
 
 " I am like Sarita ! I am like Sarita ! " 
 She said it to herself a thousand times in 
 the weeks and months which followed, and 
 which seemed to her helplessness like years. 
 She said it in as many moods as there were 
 hours of the day. Sometimes with wild un- 
 reasoning childish rage ; sometimes with a 
 shock of fear ; sometimes in a frenzy of 
 shame ; sometimes, as she stood and looked 
 up the road, her cheeks pale, her eyes dilated 
 with self-pity and tears. 
 
 " I am like Sarita ! Yes — Sarita ! " 
 She remembered with superstitious tremor 
 all the things that had been said to her of the 
 punishment that would fall upon her because 
 of her hard-heartedness. She remembered 
 Jovita's prophecies, and how she had mocked 
 them ; how cruel she had been to those who 
 suffered for her ; how she had laughed in 
 their faces and turned away from their sighs. 
 
98 TEE PRETTY SISTER OF JOSE. 
 
 She remembered Felipe, whom she had not 
 spared one pang — Felipe, at whom she had 
 only stared in scorn when he wept and wrung 
 his hands before her. Had he felt like this 
 when she sent him back to Seville to de- 
 spair ? 
 
 A cruel fever of restlessness burned her. 
 She could find pleasure no more in the nov- 
 elties of the city, in the gayeties of the gar. 
 dens, in her own beauty. 
 
 Sometimes she was sure it was magic — the 
 evil-eye. And she slipped away, poor child ! 
 and knelt in the still, cool church, and prayed 
 to be delivered. 
 
 But once as she was doing this a sudden 
 thought struck her. 
 
 " Not to think of him any more," she said, 
 knitting her brows with yet another new 
 pang. " Not to remember his face — not to 
 remember his voice and the words he said ! 
 No, no ! " And her rosary slipped from her 
 fingers and fell upon the stone floor, and she 
 
TEE PRETTY SISTER OF JOSE. 99 
 
 picked it up and rose from her knees and 
 went away. 
 
 All that day and night she thought and 
 thought, and the next day went to pray 
 again — but not that she miffht be delivered. 
 She brought to the shrine at which she knelt 
 substantial promises as offerings. Hers were 
 not the prayers of a saint, but of a passion- 
 ate, importunate child, self-willed and tem- 
 pestuous. She would not have prayed if she 
 could have hoped for help from any earthly 
 means. She had never prayed for anything 
 before. She had always taken what she 
 wanted and gone her way ; but she had had 
 few needs. Now in this strange anguish she 
 could do nothing for herself, and surely it was 
 the place of the Virgin and the saints to help 
 her. She stormed the painted wax figure in 
 its niche with appeals which were innocently 
 like demands. 
 
 Make him come back — make him come 
 back to her. Mother of God, he must re- 
 
100 THE PRETTY SISTER OF JOSE. 
 
 turn ! Make him come to the wall some 
 night — res, to-night. lie must not know that 
 she was like Sarita, but he must come ; and 
 whatsoever she did or said he must not go 
 away again. She would sell her new neck- 
 lace ; the silver comb her mother had left 
 her — the comb her father had given her 
 mother in the days of their courtship ; she 
 would do some work, and give to the Holy 
 Mother some candles and flowers ; but he 
 must come back, and he must not go away 
 again whatsoever she did. 
 
 She knelt upon the stone floor, her hands 
 wrung together, pouring forth the same 
 words breathlessly over and over, each reit- 
 eration more intense than the last, all her 
 } T oung strength going out into the appeal. 
 
 And still she had not yet reached the 
 point of knowing w r hat she should do and 
 say when he came. 
 
 When she tried to rise to her feet she was 
 obliged to make two efforts before she sue- 
 
THE PRETTY SISTER OF JOSE. 101 
 
 ceeded. She had given such a passion of 
 
 strength to her siege that she was almost ex- 
 es o 
 
 hausted, and she went out into the dazzling 
 sunlight trembling. She did this day after 
 day, day after clay, and at night she waited 
 by the wall, but the road was always the 
 same. 
 
 And she could hear nothing — not a word. 
 She could not ask, even though sometimes as 
 she sat and gazed at Jose with hungry e} T es 
 it seemed as if she must drop dead if he did 
 not speak. But he did not speak because he 
 could have told her but little, and was quite 
 secure in his belief that the mere mention of 
 Sebastiano's name angered her. 
 
 So the time went by — weeks and months 
 — and at last one evening she went to the 
 church and prayed a new prayer. 
 
 " Sacred Mother," she said, " I have sold 
 the comb and the necklace, and I have 
 worked and can keep my word. I have 
 bought a little golden heart. And if he 
 
102 THE PRETTY SISTER OF JOSE-. 
 
 comes " — in a fainter whisper — " if he comes 
 I will say nothing ill to him." 
 
 That night, for the first time, she heard of 
 Sebastiano. 
 
 Little Carlos came in and was full of news. 
 
 " They say that Sebastiano has had great 
 success, and that perhaps he will go to 
 America." 
 
 " Where is America ? " asked Jovita. 
 
 " It is at the other end of the world, and 
 never yet have the people seen a bull-fight." 
 
 " Never ? " said Jose, staring. " That is 
 impossible ! " 
 
 " It is true," answered Carlos. " And they 
 are rich, and like new things ; and the king 
 has spoken of sending for Sebastiano. He 
 will be rich enough to build a palace for his 
 old age." 
 
 A few days later, in the dusk of the even- 
 ing, there crept into the church a little 
 figure familiar to the painted saints and the 
 waxen Virgin. But to-da} 7 it wore a changed 
 
P 
 
 S^W/ WHI| I. 1Kb flrla 
 
 1 1 m 
 
 wUvi//mi 
 
 jfl«3iiii 
 li £IJRnfHE 
 
 1 ilK 
 
 
 ■^TU 
 
 ■f-'3h^, 
 
 -and fell upon the altar steps shuddering and sobbing like a beaten child. 
 
TEE PRETTY SISTER OF JOSE. 103 
 
 aspect. It moved slowly at first, reluc- 
 tantly ; the brilliant little face was pale ; the 
 eyes wild with torture. A moment it stood 
 before the altar, and then flung up its arms 
 with a fierce gesture. 
 
 " Mother of God," it cried, brokenly, 
 " then if it must be so — tell him — tell him 
 that I am like Sarita ! " and fell upon the 
 altar steps shuddering and sobbing like a 
 beaten child. 
 
CHAPTER IV. 
 
 And yet it was again weeks and weeks 
 before she heard another word. In those 
 weeks there were times when she hated Jose 
 because he never once spoke of what she 
 wished to hear. She could not speak her- 
 self — she could not ask questions ; she could 
 only wait — hungry and desolate. They 
 would not even say — these people — whether 
 lie had gone to the King of America or not; 
 whether he was at the other end of the 
 world, or whether he was only in some other 
 city. The truth was that Jose had inno- 
 cently cautioned the others against speaking 
 of one whom Pepita disliked to hear of. 
 
 " She does not like him," he said, sorrow- 
 fully. "Girls are like that sometimes. It 
 makes her anjrrv when one talks of him." 
 
THE PRETTY SISTER OF JOSE. 105 
 
 But slow as he was, he could not help see- 
 in"- in time that something was wrong with 
 Pepita. Sometimes she scarcely talked at 
 all, and she did not flame up when Jovita 
 grumbled ; it seemed as if she scarcely heard. 
 Her eyes had grown bigger, too, and there 
 was a burning light in them. They always 
 appeared to be asking something ; often he 
 found himself obliged to look up, and saw 
 them fixed upon him, as if they meant 
 to wrest something from him. The care- 
 less bird-like look had gone, the careless 
 bird-like laughter and mocking. He began 
 gradually to fancy she was always thinking 
 of something that hurt and excited her. 
 But then there was nothing. She had all 
 she wanted. She had as many trinkets as 
 the other girls ; she had even more. She 
 had so little work to do that she had sought 
 some outside her home to fill her spare 
 moments, and she loved no one. There was 
 not a man she knew who would not have 
 
106 THE PRETTY SISTER OF JOSE. 
 
 come if she had smiled. What, then, could 
 it be ? And how pretty she was ! Prettier 
 than ever ; prettier because of the burning 
 look in her eyes, and — and something else he 
 could not explain ; a kind of restless grace of 
 movement, as if she was always on the alert. 
 
 " Are you not pleased with Madrid any 
 longer ? " he asked her once. 
 
 " Yes," she answered. 
 
 " Do you want anything ? " 
 
 " No." 
 
 " It seems to me," he said, slowly, and 
 with much caution, " that you do not amuse 
 yourself as you did at first." 
 
 " It is not so new," she said ; " but there 
 is still pleasure enough." And for a moment 
 she kept her great eager eyes fixed upon 
 him, and then she moved slowly toward him 
 and touched him with a soft touch on his 
 big clumsy shoulder and said : " You are a 
 good brother ! You are a good brother ! " 
 
 " I have alwavs loved you," he said, with 
 
THE PRETTY SISTER OF JOSE. 107 
 
 simple pride. " When we were children, 
 you know I always promised that you should 
 see better days." 
 
 She had forgotten to count the weeks and 
 days, or to take note of the changing sea- 
 sons, when one hot day in the early summer 
 he came in — Jose — with an innocent joy in 
 his face. 
 
 He looked questioning!}^ at Pepita two or 
 three times and then coughed. 
 
 " You will not mind now," he said. " It 
 is so long ago, and it is all over. Sebastiano 
 has come back. He did not go to America ; 
 he is in Madrid to-day. He came to me in 
 the street ; he did not avoid me ; he was 
 rejoiced to see me. It appears that it is all 
 well with him. Afterward Manuel told me. 
 It appears there is a very pretty girl he met 
 in Lisbon — she is here now. It is said he 
 will marry her." 
 
 Pepita clinched her hands and stared at 
 him with eyes that burned as never before. 
 
108 THE PRETTY SISTER OF JOSE. 
 
 " It is not true ! " she said through her 
 teeth. " It is not true ! " 
 
 Jose fell back two steps. 
 
 " Not true ? " he stammered. " Why not ? 
 They say so." 
 
 "A man who slays bulls as he does," 
 she said, "does not forget a woman in a 
 day." 
 
 Jose was lost in amazement. 
 
 " I thought you believed nothing but ill 
 of him," he said. "What has happened? 
 You are angry — angry." 
 
 "It is not true about the girl from Lis- 
 bon," she said. " It is a lie they amuse them- 
 selves Avith." 
 
 Never had innocent Jose been so thunder- 
 struck. This was beyond his understanding. 
 He was afraid to speak, and kept looking 
 sidewise at her as he ate his soup ; but she 
 said no more. 
 
 " What has happened % " he said to him- 
 self over and over again. " Will she not 
 
THE PRETTY SISTER OF JOSE. 109 
 
 allow him to marry another, though she does 
 not want him herself? " 
 
 Later he went out again. It must be con- 
 fessed that he went in the hope of seeing Se- 
 bastiano, or at least hearing of him. There 
 was no difficulty in hearing of him. In the 
 wine-shops and at the street corners he was 
 being talked of in every group. Of what 
 else could people speak who knew he had re- 
 turned ? How there would be sport— how 
 there would be pleasure ! Life began to wear 
 a more vivacious aspect. And what had he 
 not done since he had left Madrid ? Such 
 success — such adulation ! The impression 
 among his adorers was that the whole world 
 had been at his feet. Here and there one 
 could hear snatches of song of which his 
 name was the refrain. It was only because 
 he so loved his own people that he had re- 
 fused the magnificent offers made bv the 
 King of America. He had refused them ; he 
 had chosen to remain in Spain. He had come 
 
HO THE PRETTY SISTER OF JOSE. 
 
 to Madrid. Soon he would appear before 
 them again. He had even gained in strength 
 and dexterity ; and as to his good looks — 
 ah ! what a dashing, handsome fellow ! 
 
 Jose had the good luck to see him again, 
 even to speak to him. What fortune — what 
 happiness! The honest fellow felt himself 
 overjoyed. They were to be friends again. 
 
 It was quite late when he found himself 
 walking homeward over the white road 
 again. He had drunk wine enough to make 
 him feel quite gay ; and as he went he sang 
 now and then a verse of a song about the 
 joys of the bull-fight. 
 
 "When he was about half-way home he 
 thought he heard behind him the sound of 
 rapid feet — light feet running. He stopped 
 and looked back. What was it he saw, or 
 thought he saw ? Was it a small dark shape 
 which flitted instantly into the shadow of the 
 trees ? It looked like a woman who did not 
 wish to be seen. Well, he would not look, 
 
THE PRETTY SISTER OF JOSE, m 
 
 then. What was the use of giving her 
 trouble ? He tramped on, perhaps a little 
 more slowly. It was late for a woman to 
 be out on the lonely road alone. It must be 
 past midnight. Then the thought came to 
 him that perhaps she wished to pass him. 
 In that case he might look the other way, on 
 the opposite side of the road. In fact, he 
 crossed to the other side to leave the way 
 clear, and went on good-naturedly, singing 
 his song loudly and all out of tune. Yes, he 
 had been right. Soon the footsteps drew 
 nearer ; the shadow within the shadow 
 slipped past — ran swiftly. But by that time 
 they were nearing his home, and there was a 
 stretch of road unshaded by anything. The 
 shadow hesitated, darted across the white 
 space, and Jose, seeing it in the full light, 
 uttered a cry, and started in pursuit. In but 
 a few moments he had reached it and held 
 it by the arm, feeling all the slender body 
 breathless and panting. 
 
112 THE PRETTY SISTER OF JOSE. 
 
 " Pepita ! " he cried. " It is you ? " 
 
 She let the mantilla drop from her face 
 and stood and looked at him. 
 
 " Yes," she answered, " it is Pepita ; and 
 you need not ask — 1 will not tell you. I 
 have been to — to look at something — and I 
 will tell you nothing." 
 
 He put his hand up and rubbed his fore- 
 head violently. Then he let it drop. 
 
 " I shall not ask," he said. " You would 
 do no wrong. You are a good girl; 
 but—" 
 
 " You think I have gone mad," she said, 
 with a sudden change of voice and a piteous 
 little shiver. "Who knows? Perhaps some 
 one has cast the evil-eye upon me. But I 
 have done no harm, and I shall do none." 
 
 " No," he said, rather stupidly. " You 
 would do no harm. Let us go in, then." 
 
 And without another word they went into 
 the house, Pepita to her bed to lie awake 
 and gaze at the darkness, Jose to sit with his 
 
In a few moments he had reached it, and held it by tne arm, feeling 
 slender body breathless and panting. 
 
THE PRETTY SISTER OF JOSE. H3 
 
 head in his hands and thinking a thousand 
 wild thoughts until he fell asleep. 
 
 He could not know that where he had been 
 she had been also; that when the snatches of 
 song had been sung she had heard them ; that 
 when the people had talked of Sebastiano 
 she had listened ; that when Sebastiano had 
 stood in the bright light she had stood in the 
 shadow and watched. She had not thought 
 of danger or of being discovered. She had 
 only thought of one thing and listened for 
 one thing — and once she had heard this thing 
 discussed by some chattering young chulos. 
 
 " She is a pretty young girl," they said. 
 " Not as pretty as that other, but handsome 
 enough. She was a little devil, that other. 
 But it is a mistake for a man like him to 
 marry. How can a man feel free to risk his 
 life gayly when he has a woman hung about 
 his neck ? " 
 
 Pepita had leaned against the wall, putting 
 her hand to her throat. 
 
114 THE PRETTY SISTER OF JOSE. 
 
 "He will not," she whispered, growing 
 hot all over. " Xo, he has not forgotten. I 
 have given the little heart and the flowers 
 and candles. And he could not forget while 
 I — lie will come hack." 
 
 She struggled with the passionate per- 
 sistence of a child. Since she would not give 
 him up, he was hers. 
 
 But she did not know what to do. There 
 was nothing but to wait in this fever of 
 strange misery and unrest, which grew more 
 cruel every day ; and at the bull-fight if he 
 would only look — perhaps — yes, if he saw 
 her face, he would understand and come. 
 
 In the days before the great entertainment 
 took place she was like some little savage 
 creature at bay. She could scarcely bear to 
 hear the voices of those who spoke to her. 
 Once she went into the church and threw 
 herself upon her knees as usual, but when 
 she looked up her eyes were fierce. 
 
 " If he does not come," she cried to the 
 
" She is a pretty young girl," they said. " Not as pretty as that other, 
 but handsome enough." 
 
THE PRETTY SISTER OF JOSE. 115 
 
 waxen Virgin, " I will pray to you no more 
 — no more." 
 
 She knew that it was blasphemy, but she 
 did not care ; and before she went home she 
 bought a sharp little knife and hid it in her 
 breast. 
 
 " This," she whispered, " this — if it is true 
 about the girl from Lisbon ; but it is not 
 true." 
 
 For many years afterward the day of the 
 great bull-fight was remembered. No one 
 who saw it forgot it as long as he lived. 
 Affairs used to date from it in the minds of 
 many. 
 
 A year had passed since that first brilliant 
 day when Pepita had gone forth in her first 
 festal dress. She remembered it all as she 
 dressed herself on this other morning. The 
 same day seemed to have come again ; the 
 same sunshine and deep blue sky. There 
 were the same flowers nodding their heads ; 
 Jovita was grumbling a little in her haste, 
 
116 THE PRETTY SISTER OF JOSE. 
 
 just as she had done then ; and in the look- 
 ing-glass there was the same little figure in 
 the bright attire — the soft black hair, the 
 red rose, the red mouth. As she looked, a 
 sudden triumph made her radiant. 
 
 " I have not grown ugly," she said. 
 
 No, she had not grown ugly. She was 
 too young and strong for that, and excite- 
 ment had flushed her into new brilliance. 
 
 "When she found herself seated among the 
 fluttering fans of rainbow colors, that mo- 
 ment's glow of exultation left her. Strangely 
 enough, she could not help thinking of the 
 empty church and the waxen figure before 
 which she had knelt, and then of the nights 
 when she had stood watching by the wall, 
 and then of the sharp little knife in her 
 breast. And then came the clamor of the 
 music and the grand entry of the moving 
 stream of color and glitter dazzling her eyes. 
 No ; just at first she had not the power to 
 look. Could it be she — Pepita — who felt 
 
THE PRETTY SISTER OF JOSE. Hf 
 
 dizzy and could not see ? who could distin- 
 guish nothing in the splendid panorama of 
 the triumphal march ? And what clamor, 
 what excitement there was on every side! 
 " What bulls ! What men ! " they were say- 
 ing about her. 
 
 Only she seemed, in the midst of all the 
 loud-voiced eagerness and delight, to sit alone, 
 a cold little figure vaguely tormented by the 
 gayety and the voices and the color of flut- 
 tering fans and ribbons and costumes. The 
 deep rose had fled from her face ; she sat 
 with her hands wrung on her knee and waited 
 for one moment to come. 
 
 The great bull ran bellowing around the 
 arena ; little beribboned darts were flung at 
 him and stuck in his shaggy shoulders ; bril- 
 liant cloaks were flaunted in his face ; taunt- 
 ing cries mocked him. He charged hither 
 and thither in blind fury, scattering men 
 and horses, who only returned again to the 
 attack. 
 
118 THE PRETTY SISTER OF JOSE. 
 
 " It takes too long," communed Pepita. 
 " It takes too long." 
 
 And then the voices began to call for Sebas- 
 tiano. " Sebastiano ! Sebastiano! " on every 
 side — even the grand ladies and their cava- 
 liers clapping their hands and calling also. 
 The beauties in the high places were always 
 ready to see him come, and to give him a wel- 
 come when he risked his life to amuse them. 
 
 He stepped forth in his rich dress and 
 with his gallant bearing, a more beautiful 
 and gay figure than ever, it seemed the ex- 
 cited people thought. lie had grown finer, 
 without doubt, they said. His face was a 
 little pale, but that only made more beauti- 
 ful his long dark eyes, under their dense, 
 straight, black lashes. It w r as the women 
 who said this, and who saw the richness of 
 his dress, the colors of his devisa, the close 
 curl of his crisp hair, the grace of his move- 
 ment. The men saw his superb limbs, his 
 firm step, his quick glance, his bright sword. 
 
THE PRETTY SISTER OF JOSE. 119 
 
 " Come, little slayer of bulls," they shouted, 
 " and show us what you would have taught 
 the people of America." 
 
 And it appeared they were not to be 
 disappointed in their expectation of sport. 
 They saw that when he stood before the bull 
 and made a little mocking bow of salute, he 
 looked into its small, furious eyes with a 
 smile, as it drew near — a bellowing black 
 mass, snorting and throwing up the dust. 
 It was as ready to begin as he. It rushed 
 upon him, and he was gone. He played 
 with it, led it on, defied it, eluded it. The 
 flashing sword seemed to become a score of 
 glittering blades ; the people shouted — rose 
 in their seats — leaned forward — laughed — 
 mocked the bull — cried out praises of sword 
 and man and beast — of each leap — each 
 touch of the steel's point. 
 
 '• He plays with it as if it were a little 
 lamb," they cried. " Sebastiano ! Sebas- 
 tiano ! " 
 
120 THE PRETTY SISTER OF JOSE. 
 
 Of what use to tell what must be seen 
 in all its danger to be understood 1 The joy 
 and exultation rose to fierce fever-heat, the 
 cries swelled higher, faces flushed and eyes 
 sparkled and flamed, while the brilliant fig- 
 ure darted, leaped, attacked, played with 
 death as it had done scores of times before. 
 
 Only Pepita sat without color or applause 
 — only Pepita's fan was motionless amidst 
 all the fluttering — though her breast moved 
 up and down, and the throbbing in her side 
 was like the beating of a hammer. She was 
 speaking to herself, though her lips were 
 closed ; she was speaking to Sebastiano. 
 
 " He will look soon," she was saying. 
 " He will look as he did that first day. My 
 eyes will make him look. The} 7 will force 
 him to it. Listen ! it is Pepita whose eyes 
 are on you. You must feel them. You 
 have not forgotten. ]No. And it is Pepita 
 —Pepita ! " 
 
 All the strength of her body and soul she 
 
THE PRETTY SISTER OF JOSE. 121 
 
 threw into her gaze — all the fire of her 
 young wildly beating heart and throbbing 
 pulses. 
 
 " You must hear," she said. " Pepita ! 
 Pepita ! " 
 
 And unconsciously she leaned forward so 
 that her white face and great eyes, and the 
 little black head with the rose burning in its 
 hair, stood out among the faces of those 
 about her. 
 
 And he looked up and saw her, and their 
 eyes met ; and without knowing she started 
 to her feet. 
 
 No one knew, no one but herself saw, how 
 it happened : even she did not understand 
 until all was past. Their eyes met, as they 
 had done on the day a year before. No, not 
 as they had done then, but with a strange 
 new look. Sebastiano started ; the arena 
 swam before him ; there was a second — a 
 fatal second in which he saw only a small 
 face without color and the red rose which 
 
122 THE PRETTY SISTER OF JOSE. 
 
 was the color of blood. Then there was a 
 roar near him — a roar among the people — 
 a wild shriek from the women. The bull 
 was upon him ; he made a misstep, and was 
 caught, amid the shrieks and bellows, and 
 flung inert far out upon the hoof-trodden 
 dust with the blood pouring from his side. 
 
 " But," they said in the wine-shops at 
 night. " when they took him up, though 
 they thought him gasping in death, he had 
 not lost himself ; and as they carried him 
 out they came upon a girl — the one who is 
 called ' the pretty sister of Jose ' — her bro- 
 ther was taking her away. She looked like 
 one dead three days ; and Sebastiano — there 
 is a man for you ! — tore the devisa from his 
 shoulder and dropped it at her feet ; and she 
 snatched it up — all wet with his blood — and 
 thrust it in her breast, and dropped like a 
 stone. It is said that he loved her, and she 
 had a devil of a temper and treated him 
 badly. He is a good fellow — her brother 
 
THE PRETTY SISTER OF JOSE. 123 
 
 Jose — and wept like a child for Sebastiano, 
 and has begged to be allowed to nurse him, 
 and Sebastiano will have it so." 
 
 " I am strong as an ox," Jose had said, 
 weeping. " I can watch like a dog. I want 
 neither sleep nor food, if it comes to that ; 
 and once when one of my comrades fell 
 from a scaffold I was the only one who could 
 nurse him without killing him with the pain. 
 He will tell you that I nursed him well, and 
 was never tired." 
 
 kk Let him stay," said Sebastiano. 
 
 In his struggle with death, which lasted 
 so long, it was always the large form and 
 simple, anxious face of Jose he saw when he 
 knew what passed around him, and even 
 when the fever brought him delirious visions 
 he was often vaguely conscious of his pres- 
 ence. For himself, he did not know whether 
 he was to live or die ; but one night he found 
 out. 
 
 It was a beautiful night which came after 
 
124 THE PRETTY SISTER OF JOSE. 
 
 a long day in which those about his bed had 
 looked at him with pitying eyes, and at last 
 a priest had come and absolved him of his 
 sins, and left him with a solemn, kindly 
 blessing, with a soul clear of stain and ready 
 for paradise. 
 
 He had fallen asleep afterward, and had 
 dreamed not of heaven but of earth, of a 
 red rose in soft black hair, and of a passion- 
 ate little face whose large eyes glowed upon 
 him. 
 
 And suddenly he was wide awake, and 
 found his dream a living truth. 
 
 Jose was no longer in the room. The 
 moonlight made everything clear, and upon 
 the floor beside him knelt Pepita, her eyes 
 fixed upon his. 
 
 k ' Dios ! Dios ! " he murmured. 
 
 " Hush ! " she said. " Do not speak. It 
 is Pepita. Look at me. They said that 
 perhaps to-night you would die. I have 
 prayed until I can pray no more, and when 
 
" , . fe i 
 
 ■ 
 
 Deos ! Deos!'' he murmured. 
 
THE PRETTY SISTER OF JOSE. 125 
 
 I came to Jose the tears were falling from 
 his eyes, and he said perhaps you would 
 not see the day. Then I showed him the 
 little knife hidden in my breast, and told 
 him if he did not let me come to you alone 
 I would not live. I said I could force you 
 to remain on earth. I love you — I love you. 
 It has all happened, that which you said 
 would happen ; and when the devisa fell at 
 my feet I hid it in my breast with the other 
 which was there before. And because I love 
 you so, you cannot die. I will do anything 
 you say I must do. 1 am Pepita. and I give 
 myself to you. I would give my blood and 
 my life and my soul for you. Every night 
 I have waited by the wall in the hope that 
 you would come. I have watched you 
 when you did not see me. If you had not 
 come I should have killed myself ; if you 
 die, I wiU drive the knife to its hilt in my 
 heart. I can love more than those women 
 who love so easily and so often. I knew 
 
126 THE PRETTY SISTER OF JOSE. 
 
 nothing about it when I was so proud and 
 mocked you. I know now. Mother of 
 God ! it is like a thousand deaths when one 
 cannot see the face one wants. What 
 hunger night and day! — one is driven mad 
 by it ! " 
 
 She bent more closely over him, crushing 
 his unwounded hand against her heart — 
 searching his soul with her look. 
 
 ,k They said there was a girl in Lisbon 
 whom you loved," she said. " I knew it was 
 a lie." 
 
 " Yes," he whispered, " it was a lie. Kiss 
 me on the mouth." 
 
 His arm curved itself around her neck, 
 and the red lips which had mocked melted 
 upon his own. 
 
 ,k Did you suffer ? " he murmured. 
 
 She began to sob like a child, as she had 
 sobbed at the feet of the Yirgin. 
 
 " I told you that you would suffer ! It 
 was the same thin"- with me. Saints of 
 
THE PRETTY SISTER OF JOSE. 127 
 
 Heaven ! human beings cannot bear that 
 long. I shall not die, and I will make you 
 forget the pain. Stay with me, and let me 
 see your eyes and touch your lips every 
 hour, that I may know you are Pepita, and 
 that you have given yourself to me." 
 
 " I will stay through all the day and 
 night," she answered. "They cannot make 
 me go away if I do not wish it. They 
 always give me my way. I have always 
 had it — the Virgin herself has given it to 
 me." 
 
 It seemed this was true. In a few months 
 from then the people who strolled in the 
 Public Garden on Sunday looked at a beau- 
 tiful young couple who walked together. 
 
 "There are two who are mad with love 
 for each other," it was said. " Sebastiano 
 and his wife. She is the one he threw his 
 devisa to when he thought himself a dead 
 man. They used to call her ' the pretty sis- 
 ter of Jose.' " 
 
B 
 
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 strongest promise as a novelist. All of his men are excellent. John 
 Musgrove, the grimly pathetic old beau, sometimes reminds us of a 
 touch of Thackeray." — The Cincinnati Times-Star. 
 
 John T. Wheelwright. 
 
 A CHILD OF THE CENTURY. (l2mo, paper, 50 cts.; cloth, $1.00.) 
 
 " This is one of the most thoroughly enjoyable novels that has 
 been published for a long time. It is a story of to-day, of American 
 life and character : a typical story of political and social life, free 
 from cynicism or morbid realism, and brimming over with good- 
 natured fun, which is never vulgar. " — The Christian at Work.