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have mercy on me。〃
Somehow she got it inside the lining of her glove； refolded； by thumb motion alone。 Then she dipped her face to the violets once more。 As the Seсora Viuda had said； one couldn't change the world。
They came out of the older part of town with its tortuous； cobbled streets； where respectable； conservative families like hers lived； into one of the new semi…suburban sections； favored by foreigners and the more flashily prosperous who copied their ways…even to letting their daughters run around without an older woman in attendance。 They traversed this along a straight； broad asphalted driveway； and beyond emerged into open country for awhile。 Then in the distance ahead a symmetrical line of dark…green poplars began to peer over an intervening rise of the ground and； when they had topped it； suddenly seemed to spring forward to join the road； behind a stone wall that ran back as far as the eye could reach。
It turned and followed the roadside for a while。 All Saints Cemetery was known as the largest in the city； if not anywhere in the world。 It was said of it that it was big enough to acmodate all the world's dead at one time。
On the opposite side of the road； buildings had sprung up once more； called into being to acmodate the living who on Sundays and certain religious holidays came out here in such shoals to pay their respects to the dead。 A headstone carver's shop and workyard； littered with ornamental urns； cherubs； mourning angels； and crosses； a refreshment and eating pavilion； and others such。 They were intermittent； with large gaps between； and the whole atmosphere was one of abandoned desolation rather than life…quickened activity； somehow。
The carriage drew up at the main entrance； marked by a pair of massive bronze doors set within a stone arch； and they got out。 〃e back for us within a half…hour； no more；〃 Marta instructed the driver。
The carriage ambled aimlessly off on some mission best known to its driver…perhaps the nearest cantina at the next crossroads ahead。 As it left them； Conchita held back in seeming irresolution a minute。
〃Marta； before we go in； can't we go over to that place across the way and sit down for a minute？ I'm so thirsty。〃
Marta objected querulously； flattening the sheaf of flowers so that she could look at her clearly over their tops； 〃No； nina。 How can we？ Your mother told me to bring you right back。 Look； the sun's already far down。 Night will be upon us before we can get back to the house。〃
〃How long will it take？〃 the girl coaxed。
〃But did we e out here to visit your father's grave or did we e out here to have refrescos？ 〃 the old woman said with peevish stubbornness。
〃Just a cup of mint tea。 You know how you love your mint 'tea。 You always take it at this hour at home。〃
The chaperon wavered； obviously tempted。 She cast a look across the road； as though judging how long it would detain them to go over and back。 〃But isn't it better to go in first and pay our respects； and then have it when we e out？ The place may close。〃
〃I'm faint； Martita。 Why do you refuse me？〃
Her panion was at once all whimpering solicitude。 〃Oh my light； why didn't you tell me sooner？ What am I thinking of； standing here wrangling？ e； my heart； take me by the arm； we'll go right over。〃
They inched across the road； held to a painfully reduced gait more by the stout figure's slowness of limb than by the slender one's weakness； if the truth had been known。 The devoted Marta even had to caution her charge； 〃Not so fast； linda。 You may get dizzy。〃
The establishment was bare of customers at this hour。 A waiter with a tray tucked under his arm came attentively to the door； waiting to see where they would decide to sit before moving any further。 There was a terrace strip of terra…cotta mosaic tiling laid out in front of the place； holding a row of reedy； forlorn…looking； wafer…sized iron tables； each one with more wire…legged chairs wedged around it than it could acmodate。
〃Let's go inside out of the glare；〃 Conchita suggested demurely。
They continued on into an interior of cavelike dimness； after the outer brightness； in which a sea of other equally reedy； equally untenanted iron tables could be made out。 A loosely strung pasteboard sign proclaiming ASK FOR EL SOL BEER brushed against Marta's head as she passed below it。 She swept it indignantly aside。
They seated themselves opposite one another in a small booth against the wall； duenna and massed flowers on one side of the table； young mourner on the other。 The waiter approached。 〃Buenos dias。〃
〃Buenos dias；〃 Marta grunted； with the curtness one employee often has for another。
Conchita waited until he had gone away again； then tipped the veil from her face with an air of angelic primness。
The visibility lightened up a little around them as their eyes grew accustomed to the place； though not much beyond the blue…green transparency of a submarine deep from first to last。 Then too； the daylight outside was fast toning down； losing its contrasting vividness。
They sat for a moment or two。 〃We'll be locked out；〃 Marta mourned。 〃We'll have had the whole trip out for nothing。〃 She shifted her head and shoulders outward along her seat to scan the seemingly lifeless rear of the establishment。 She shattered the silence with an explosive double smack of her cupped hands。 〃Muchacho！ We're in a hurry！〃 she called imperatively。
The waiter returned at a trudging walk； his excuse for not hurrying any faster the brimming cup of strongly aromatic tea and glass of lemonade he bore on the tray。
Marta ducked her chin to the cup； smacked her lips expressively as she raised it again。 Conchita； who was sitting facing the thoroughfare outside； kept scanning it； more as though she were on the lookout for something to e along and catch her eye than because something had。 Suddenly she gave a little sob of suppressed laughter； flexed one finger toward the outer panorama。
〃You should have seen that！ The funniest…looking man just went by。 I wonder what he was。〃
Marta； who was sitting back to the road； laboriously swiveled herself around and tried to peer out past the edge of the booth partition behind her。
She turned back in a moment； shrugged。 〃I don't see anyone。〃
A little ripple was going around in her cup。
〃You missed him。 He's gone past now。〃
Marta said； 〃You do look pale； nina。〃
Conchita did look pale。 She wasn't used to acts of overt treachery against members of her own household。 Against anyone； for that matter。
Another minute or two went by。 Marta put down her drained cup。
〃e pequena； we must go。〃
〃Just let's sit a minute longer。 It's so nice here。 I haven't quite finished my lemonade yet。〃
〃The sun is almost all gone。 It'll be dark before we know it。 We can't go in there in the dark。〃
〃You look tired； Marta。〃
As though she had only realized it now that the thought had been suggested to her； Marta admitted： 〃I am tired。 I went 'to six…o'clock Mass this morning。〃 She sighed self…indulgently。 〃When one gets to be my age…〃
〃Put your head back a minute against the leather padding；〃 the girl suggested。
〃It wouldn't look right； out in public like this。〃
〃There's no one but us here to see。〃
The old woman's head went back almost of its own accord； she closed her eyes gratefully； and gave a deep sigh of relaxation。 Her head stayed straight for a minute； erect on her shoulders。 Then it slanted over until it had found the angle between the two walls of the partment； remained leaning against it； supported by one of them。 Her breathing started to bee more gritty。 Her lips parted pany slightly； just in the middle。
The girl sat quietly on opposite her a moment longer。 Then she shifted outward along the seat until the impediment of the table had ended； stood up； never taking her eyes off her deputy guardian's face。 The heavy jowls were shaking a little now； with each breath。
She reached cautiously downward for the mass of flowers beside Marta； scooped them up in the crook of one arm； careful to keep them from rustling too flagrantly。 She got them all but one； a long…stemmed white rose which escaped her。 She let that remain where it was。 To have tried to retrieve it might have cost her all the others。
She picked her way through the shoal of spool…topped tables； moving like a black…garbed wraith against the dying brightness of the day outside。 When she had gained the lateral aisle of clearance that led to the front and out； she motioned the waiter toward her before proceeding along it； at the same time cautioning him with finger to lips。
〃 Si； seсorita？ 〃
〃My nodriza's very tired； pobrecita。 I'm going to leave her here for a few minutes。 Don't wake her up； please； until I get back。 I'm just going across the street。 I'll be back for her in a quarter of an hour。〃
〃Just as the seсorita orders it；〃 he murmured respectfully。 A refined young girl in mourning from head to foot； an armful of flowers obviously destined for a grave…who could think anything amiss？
She moved decorously enough until she had gained the terrace outside and the street beyond that。 Then； because the