Fortunately, the cold had driven the servants either to the
kitchen fire or to their beds, and they could talk over the
subject without fear of interference.
"Are you sleepy, queridita?"--(little dear).
"I think I shall never go to sleep again, Antonia. If I shut
my eyes I shall find myself in the convent; and I do not want
to go there even in a dream. Do you know Mother Teresa? Well
then, I could tell you things. And she does not like me, I am
sure of that; quite sure."
"My darling, I am going to make us a cup of tea. It will do
us good."
"If indeed it were chocolate!"
"I cannot make chocolate now; but you shall have a great deal
of sugar in your cup, and something good to eat also. There,
my darling, put your chair close to the fire, and we will sit
here until we are quite sleepy."
With the words she went into the kitchen. Molly was nodding
over her beads, in the comfortable radius made by the
blazing logs; no one else was present but a young peon. He
brought a small kettle to the parlor fire, and lifted a table
to the hearth, and then replenished the pile of logs for
burning during the night. Isabel, cuddling in a large chair,
watched Antonia, as she went softly about putting on the table
such delicacies as she could find at that hour. Tamales and
cold duck, sweet cake and the guava jelly that was Isabel's
favorite dainty.
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