The Senora was anticipating the interview she expected with Rachela, and, perhaps wisely, she isolated herself in an atmosphere of sullen and haughty silence.

She would accept nothing from her, not even sympathy or flattery; and, in a curt dismission, managed to make her feel the immeasurable distance between a high-born lady of the house of Flores, and a poor manola that she had taken from the streets of Madrid.

Rachela knew the Senora was thinking of this circumstance; the thought was in her voice, and it cowed and snubbed the woman, her nature being essentially as low as her birth.
As for the Senora, the experience did her a world of good.

She waited upon herself as a princess might condescend to minister to her own wants--loftily, with a smile at her own complaisance.

The very knowledge that her husband was near at hand inspired her with courage.