Upon these questions the Senator enlightened her fully.
"Your name is historic, by the way," he said pleasantly. "There was a
Knight of Alcantara, a 'De Haro,' one of the emigrants with Las Casas."
Carmen nodded her head quickly, "Yes; my great-great-great-g-r-e-a-t
grandfather!"
The Senator stared.
"Oh, yes. I am the niece of Victor Castro, who married my father's
sister."
"The Victor Castro of the 'Blue Mass' mine?" asked the Senator abruptly.
"Yes," she said quietly.
Had the Senator been of the Gashwiler type, he would have expressed
himself, after the average masculine fashion, by a long-drawn whistle.
But his only perceptible appreciation of a sudden astonishment and
suspicion in his mind was a lowering of the social thermometer of the
room so decided that poor Carmen looked up innocently, chilled, and drew
her shawl closer around her shoulders.
"I have something more to ask," said Carmen, hanging her head,--"it is a
great, oh, a very great favor."
The Senator had retreated behind his bastion of books again, and was
visibly preparing for an assault.
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