He was a
good sort, apparently, with a knack of making himself agreeable,
and in the weeks that followed he and Kirk became quite friendly.
Meanwhile, no word had come from Senor Garavel, and Kirk was
beginning to fret. But just as he had reached the limit of his
patience he received a note which transported him with joy.
Senor Andres Garavel, he read, would be in the city on the
following Tuesday evening, and would be pleased to have him call.
Even with his recent experiences of Spanish etiquette, Kirk hardly
realized the extent of the concession that had been made to him.
He knew nothing of the tears, the pleadings, and the spirited
championship of his cause that had overborne the last parental
objection. It was lucky for him that Chiquita was a spoiled child,
and Garavel a very Americanized Spaniard. However, as it was, he
went nearly mad with delight, and when Tuesday came round he
performed his office-work so badly that Runnels took him to task.
"What the devil has got into you the last few days?" he exclaimed,
irritably.
"I'm going to see a certain party to-night and I can't contain
myself. I'm about to blow up. That's all."
"Woman, eh?"
Kirk grinned. "It has taken months, and I'd begun to think I
wasn't wanted.
Pages:
348
349
350
351
352
353
354
355
356
357
358
359
360
361
362
363
364
365
366
367
368
369
370
371
372