The O'Reillys were audacious men, a bit too heedless of
their own good, perhaps; a bit too light-hearted readily to
impress a grave world with their varied abilities, but sterling
men, for all that, ambitious men, men with lime in their bones and
possessed of a high and ready chivalry that made friends for them
wherever their wandering feet strayed. Spain, France, and the two
Americas had welcomed O'Reillys of one sort or another; even Cuba
had the family name written large upon her scroll. So Johnnie, of
New York and Matanzas, although at first he felt himself a
stranger in a strange land, was not so considered by the Cubans.
A dancing eye speaks every language; a singing heart gathers its
own audience. Before the young Irish-American had more than a
bowing acquaintance with the commonest Spanish verbs he had a
calling acquaintance with some of the most exclusive people of
Matanzas. He puzzled them, to be sure, for they could not fathom
the reason for his ever-bubbling gladness, but they strove to
catch its secret, and, striving, they made friends with him.
O'Reilly did not puzzle their daughters nearly so much: more than
one aristocratic senorita felt sure that she quite understood the
tall, blond stranger with the laughing eyes, or could understand
him if he gave her half a chance, and so, as had been the case
with other O'Reillys in other lands, Johnnie's exile became no
exile at all.
Pages:
29
30
31
32
33
34
35
36
37
38
39
40
41
42
43
44
45
46
47
48
49
50
51
52
53