Lola, finding her own face expanding irresistibly, bent lower over Diego's small trousers. The picture of Ana, standing disdainful among the sorrowing caballeros and waving off their pleas with an imperious hand, was one to bring a smile to lips of deadliest gravity. Ana, with her hands on her broad hips, short and thick as a squat brown jug with its handles akimbo,--Ana, with her great clay-colored face and tiny, glittering eyes, with her thick, pale lips and coarse, black hair,--surely none but a mother could view in Ana such charms as bedewed Señora Vigil's eyes only to think of!