She thought it was want of
sympathy.
"How can you take things with such a blessed calmness," she
asked, angrily. "But it is the way of the Americans, no
doubt, who must have everything for prudence. Sensible!
Sensible! Sensible! that is the tune they are forever
playing, and you dance to it like a miracle."
"My dear mother, can we do any good by exclaiming and
weeping?"
"Holy Virgin! Perhaps not; but to have a little human nature
is more agreeable to those who are yet on the earth side of
purgatory."
"Mi madre," said Isabel, "Antonia is our good angel. She
thinks for us, and plans for us, and even now has everything
ready for us to move at a moment's notice. Our good angels
have to be sensible and prudent, madre."
"To move at a moment's notice! Virgin of Guadalupe! where
shall we go to? Could my blessed father and mother see me in
this prison, this very vault, I assure you they would be
unhappy even among the angels."
"Mother, there are hundreds of women today in Texas who would
think this house a palace of comfort and safety."
"Saints and angels! Is that my fault? Does it make my
condition more endurable? Ah, my children, I have seen great
armies come into San Antonio, and always before I have been
able to make a little pleasure to myself out of the event.
For the Mexicans are not blood-thirsty, though they are very
warlike.
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