hed and pouted her lips at him. "Such injustice! Am I
then to be blamed because Jose has a bad temper and speech hotter than
the enchilladas of Margarita? I could love him for his rages! When
the Blessed Mary sends me a lover--" She looked over her shoulder and
sighed romantically, hiding the laughter in her eyes and the telltale
twist of her lips as best she could, with lashes downcast and face
averted.

Even a kitten the size of your two fists knows how to paw a mouse,
even though it lacks the appetite for devouring it after the torture.
One cannot logically blame Teresita. She merely used the weapons which
nature put into her pink palms.

CHAPTER XII

POTENTIAL MOODS

So engrossed was the senorita in her truly feminine game of
cat-and-mouse that she quite forgot her worry over Mrs. Jerry until
she was in her own room and smiling impishly at herself in the mirror,
while she brushed the wind-tangles from her hair and planned fresh
torment for the Senor Jack. The senorita liked to see his eyes
darken and then light with the flames that thrilled her; and it was
exceedingly pleasant to know that she could produce that effect almost
whenever she chose. Also, her lips would curve of themselves whenever
she thought of Jose's rage and subsequent bafflement when she rode off
with Senor Jack; and of Senor Jack's black looks when she praised
Jose afterwards. Truly they hated each other very much--those two
caballeros! She was woman enough to know the reason why, and to find a
great deal of pleasure in the knowledge.

Still smiling, she lifted a heavy lock of hair to the light and
speculated upon the mystery of coloring. Black it was, except when
the sun lighted it and brought a sheen that was almost blue; and Senor
Jack's was neither red, as was the hair of the big Senor Simpson, nor
brown nor gold, but a tantalizing mixture of all; especially where
it waved it had many different shades, just as the light gold and the
dark of the pretty senora's--It was then that remembrance came to the
senorita and made her glance a self-accusing one, when she looked at
her reflected face.

"Selfish, thoughtless one that thou art to forget that sweet senora!"
she cried. And for punishment she pulled the lock of hair so that
it hurt--a little. "I shall ask Senor Hunter if he will not send the
carriage for her--and perhaps I shall go with him to bring her; though
truly she will never leave the big hombre who speaks so many words