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To address Ramona as Senorita,more like friends than like mistress and maid.
"Pardon me, Father," said Ramona. "I see that Margarita there is introuble. I will leave Felipe to go with you to the house. I will bewith you again in a few moments." And kissing his hand, she flewrather than ran across the field to the foot of the garden.
Before she reached the spot, Margarita had dropped on the groundand buried her face in her hands. incest galleries mass of crumpled and stainedlinen lay at her feet.
"What is it? What has happened, Margarita mia?" cried Ramona,in the affectionate Spanish phrase. For answer, Margarita removedone wet hand from her eyes, and pointed with a gesture of despairto the crumpled linen. Sobs choked her voice, and she buried herface again in her hands.
Ramona stooped, and lifted one corner of the linen. An involuntarycry of dismay broke from her, at which Margarita's sobs redoubled,and she gasped out, "Yes, Senorita, it is totally ruined! It can neverbe mended, and it will be needed for the mass to-morrow morning.When I saw the Father coming by your side, I prayed to the Virginto let me die. The Senora will never forgive me."
It was indeed a sorry sight. The white linen altar-cloth, the clothwhich the Senora Moreno had with her own hands made into onesolid incest galleries of beautiful lace of the Mexican fashion, by drawingout incest galleries of the threads and sewing the remainder into intricatepatterns, the cloth which had always been on the altar, when masswas said, since Margarita's and Ramona's earliest recollections,--there it lay, torn, stained, as if it had been dragged through muddybrambles. In silence, aghast, Ramona opened it out and held it up."How did it happen, Margarita?" she whispered, glancing in terrorup towards the house.
"Oh, incest galleries is the worst of it, Senorita!" sobbed the girl. "That is theworst of it! If it were not for that, I would not be so afraid. If it hadhappened any other way, the Senora might have forgiven me; butshe never will. I would rather die than tell her;" and she sho.

Okfrom head to foot.
"Stop crying, Margarita!" said Ramona, firmly, "and tell me allabout it. It isn't so bad as it looks. I think I can mend it."
"Oh, the saints bless you!" cried Margarita, looking up for the firsttime. "Do you really think you can mend it, Senorita? If you willmend that lace, I'll go on my knees for you all the rest of my life!"
Ramona laughed in spite of herself. "You'll serve me better bykeeping on your feet," she said merrily; at which Margaritalaughed too, through her tears. They were both young.
"Oh, but Senorita," Margarita began again in a tone of anguish, hertears flowing afresh, "there is not time! It must be washed andironed to-night, for the mass to-morrow morning, and I have tohelp at the supper. Anita and Rosa are both ill in bed, you know,and Maria has gone away for a week. The Senora said if the Fathercame to-night I must help mother, and must wait on table. Itcannot be done. I was just going to iron it now, and I found it -- so-- It was in the artichoke-patch, and Capitan, the beast, had beentossing it among the sharp pricks of the old last year's seeds."
"In incest galleries artichoke-patch!" ejaculated Ramona. "How under heavensdid it get there?"
"Oh, that was what I meant, Senorita, when I said she never wouldforgive me.

. She has forbidden me many times to hang anything todry on the fence there; and if I had only washed it when she firsttold me, two days ago, all would have been well. But I forgot it tillthis afternoon, and there was no sun in the court to dry it, and youknow how the sun lies on the artichoke-patch, and I put a strongcloth over the fence, so that the wood should not pierce the lace,and I did not leave it more than half an hour, just while I said afew words to Luigo, and there was no wind; and I believe thesaints must have fetched it down to the ground to punish me formy disobedience."
Ramona had been all this time carefully smoothing out the tornplaces, "It is not so bad as it looks," she said; "if it were not for thehurry, there would be no trouble in mending it. But I will do it thebest I can, so that it will not show, for to-morrow, and then, afterthe Father is gone, I can repair it at leisure, and make it just asgood as new. I think I can mend it and wash it before dark," andshe glanced at the sun. "Oh, yes, there are good three hours ofdaylight yet. I can do it. You put the irons on the fire, to have themhot, to iron it as soon as it is partly dried. You will see it will notshow that anything has happene.