The Argosy — page 140: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

128 Letters from Majorca. improvement upon those below. Here, also, to my astonishment, we came upon two very pretty and modest girls, neatly dressed, with handkerchiefs becomingly adjusted about the head. H. C. looked somewhat confusedly at me out of the corners of his eyes, but even now the truth did not penetrate to my slow brain. ‘‘ Mariquitarosita,” explained the old man. “My daughters. Children, do your best for these gentlemen, distinguished visitors from the great England.” ‘But there must be some mistake,” I said, a glimmer of light penetrating to my obscure mental vision. ‘Is this the Fonda del Pastor?” ‘© Si, senor,” replied the-old man. ‘No mistake.” I began to suspect foul play. “H. C.,” said I, “is this your doing?” Silence met me. I turned. H.C. had disappeared. I now felt that I had been tricked, imposed upon. I went on and found H. e. unpacking at a furious rate. “‘ Have you had a hand in this matter?” I asked. “T have a hand in this bag,” returned H. C., diving down and bringing out a sketch-book. ‘I haven’t a hand in anything else. This is an unfortunate mistake of the coachman’s. He is horribly stupid, you know: cottony-woolly.” ‘* But what about A. and B.?” I went on. “We agreed not to go to the same fonda, you remember.” ‘* Well, they can go to the other fonda. I shall be delighted to feel that they are more comfortably lodged in Soller than we are. They will have the benefit of the old lady’s experience. We will put up with the gaucheries of these unsophisticated girls.” I found there was nothing to be done but to make the best of it. So hastily scribbling a note to A. explaining the mistake, and begging him to make use of the other fonda, we entrusted it to the coachman, who was about to start on his return journey. “You'll see,” said H. C. “They'll do nothing of the kind. They’ll come here. It’s all bosh about the limited resources of the inn. It would accommodate a small army. My firm opinion is that they wanted the place all to themselves, and their beautiful spirit of philanthropy was sheer selfishness. There!” cried H. C., getting quite excited, ‘now the cat’s out of the bag. I’ve put my foot into it, but I can’t help it.” We very soon found out that the long and incomprehensible name- was in reality two names, shared by the girls. One is Mariquita, the other Rosita. The one is as shy and timid asa gazelle, very soft and gentle in her ways. Her pretty eyes are the colour of tea, and there is a soft haze over them, something like the tea veiled by the ascending steam. The effect is curious and charming. Mariquita has never left her mother’s side, never been out of the island. One never hears her voice, and if you ask her for anything, she brings it comicbooks.com