The Morris County chronicle. [volume] (Morristown, N.J.) 1877-1915, 1901-03-01

Deen IfdVollDB. 4 WdiheA bSS"uSS N1-
not d centavo," she sobbed 'sand when
came near the city saw you talking to
beautiful scnorita who wore hat"
The hat caused Dolores bitter envy.
Had she but hat perhaps Manuel
would love her more. For she began to
feel that his love was waning, though she
would not admit it, even in her own
heart. at first, not until he had failed
many times to be at the meeting place,
not until she had waited night after
night upon the bench in the alameda and
had crept home toward morning all alone.
Then she began to reproach him fierce
ly. At first he defended himself, but
finally he came to laugh, and at length
he answered brutally. s'Ae! l am wea-
~ of your tears" he said, showing his
pointed, white teeth and turning away.
"Take care that / do not cease to come
altogether"
Lolita was frightened. She choked
back her sobs and caressed him. She
would not cry any more, never, never, if
he would promise that he would not go
away. He promised carelessly.
Il am wrong to think that you forget
me, | know" she whispered penitently,
clinging about his neck, ''for have you
IOt tOAu l41C lhdl Jul lOft 10 SllOIS DIS ILLS
chain?" She put the tiny face Of Nues-
ira Sonora de Dolores to her lips But
the look in her eyes was a despairing
question, not undoubting trust.
He laughed, and when he went away
he swore before the picture of Our Lady
of Guadalupe that upon the next night
he would come again without fail. Do
lores, forcing herself to believe, was al
most happy.
She went in the early morning to fill
her big, earthen jar at the fountain, not
at the fountain in the paseo, as was her
wont, but at the one in the Garden Of
San Francisco, because it was near to
the great house where Manuel lived.
She passed indeed before the door of the
house and saw into the patio where hun
dreds of azaleas and camellias blossomed
and where a peacock walked among the
brilliantly colored pots and pedestals.
When she came to the fountain, she lin
gered by its edge, talking. Here, among
the trees and flowers, under the shadow
of the ancient Franciscan churches and
monasteries, the birds trilled and the wa
tiers flashed and the soft voices OF the
poems mingled unsteady.
Lolita filled her jar and poised it atop
Of her head. As she did so the rebozo fell
back from her bare, brown neck and
breast and showed the chain cleaning
against it. "Who gave you that?" cried
moza. Dolores looked down and did
not answer.
II know" laughed another; 81 know.
1t was the Senior Manuel Cotilla."
"Aie Manuel" came the reply, with a
shrug. "He is the sweetheart of Pepita
Nuno. My mother is housekeeper for the
Sonora Nuno; she knows. Every night he
talks to Pepita at the window"
''It is not true! He is not her novio,"
gasped Lolita, and, turning, she walked
off with the glide of a tragedy queen, the
jar steadied upon her head by a round,
appraised arm.
That night she waited in the doorway
of her house for hours. She leaned against
the adobe with all the impassive, indolent
grace of her people, but her long eyes
searched the street anxiously from under
their curling lashes. Her mother, half
drunk with tequila, stumbled in and dis
appeared into the farther of the two
rooms which were her home. One by one
her eight small brothers and sisters stray
gled in, and, throwing themselves upon
their beds, fell asleep. But still Lolita
stood waiting for Manuel, horrible de-
spair growing in the childish heart which
was too soon a woman's.
She saw dark speck coming swiftly
down the deserted street toward her. 1t
proved to be black dog, swinging along
with its cleaning eyes fixed vacantly
straight ahead. AS it passed Dolores
shrank back into the doorway. The move
ment startled it, and it stopped short,
looked at her, gave one long howl and
passed on. The girl was frightened be-
yond all endurance. She began to cry.
Il will go and find him." she said, wrap
ping her rebozo close about her head and
she hurried away. 1t was late, as much
as l o'clock she guessed, but she went
straight to the house of Pepita Nuno.
She knew it, as she knew all the fine
mansions OF the little city.
From a distance she could see that
there was the figure of man at one of
the barred lower windows. 1t was Man
uel, hacienda Purso, making love to some
woman within. She knew that before
she saw his face, before she glided swift
ly behind him and heard the voice she
knew so well saying, Il swear by all the
saints, Pepita, that have never loved
before"
Then Lolita, lingering idly the medali-
to and twisting the chain about her
hands, went back to her home, into the
house and, climbing an unsteady ladder,
came out upon the fiat roof. 1t was
moonlight, and she stood looking with
wide. dull eyes over the city, over the low
roofs and the many domes and spires and
up at the shimmering sky. A Whit of the
perfume of orange blossoms came to her
from a tree in the patio below. 1t
brought back the night in the plaza when
she had first seen Manuel, when he had
whispered to the strains of the music
that came out from amid the trees-''la
amargura quitas del corazon." He had
loved her then, he had, he had, though
he should tell the senorita thousand
times that he had not. But he did not
love her now. 1t was at an end and for
Lolita life, too, had ended. She moaned,
and, bending over, she searched the sand
of the roof until she found a bit of stick,
a piece of the braL CHI of an orange tree.
Then she threw off the rebozo, and it fell
at her feet. Taking the chain, she wound
it again and again about her neck, but
first she broke the medallito from it and
kissed it, clasping it in her hand and
whispering prayer to Our Lady of Sor-
rows.
The chain was tight about her throat
now, but she ran the piece of orange
wood through a strand and, with one
last glance across the silent city toward
Manuels house, she began to twist it,
"Strong as our love-" she murmured,
but our love is broken. The chain must
not break"
She was turning, turning, and look
q 4