Luis was out of danger in a fortnight; in a month he rose from his bed; and during all that time he was visited daily by his mother and grandmother, and treated by the master and mistress of the house as if he was their own child.  Dona Estafania, the kind gentleman’s wife, often observed, in conversation with Leocadia, that the boy so strongly resembled a son of hers who was in Italy, she never could look at him without thinking her son was actually before her.  One day, when Dona Estafania repeated this remark, no one being present but herself and Leocadia, the latter thought it a good opportunity to open her mind to the lady, in the manner previously concerted between herself and her parents.

“Senora,” she said, “when my parents heard of the terrible accident that had befallen their nephew, they felt as if the sky had fallen upon their heads.  For them it was losing the light of their eyes, and the staff of their age, to lose their nephew, their love for whom far surpasses that which parents commonly bear towards their sons.  But, as the proverb says, with the disease God sends the remedy.  The boy found his recovery in this house; and I found in it reminiscences of events I shall never forget as long as I live.  I, senora, am noble, for so are my parents, and so were all my ancestors, who, though but moderately endowed with the gifts of fortune, always happily maintained their honour where-ever they lived.”

Dona Estafania listened attentively to Leocadia, and was astonished to hear her speak with an intelligence beyond her years, for she did not think her more than twenty; and without interrupting her by a single word, she heard her relate her whole story, how she had been forcibly carried into that chamber, what had been done to her there, and by what tokens she had been able to recognise it again.  In confirmation of all this, she drew forth from her bosom the crucifix she had taken away with her, and thus addressed it:  “Lord, who wast witness of the violence done to me, be thou the judge of the amends which are my due.  I took thee from off this cabinet, that I might continually remind thee of my wrong, not in order to pray to thee for vengeance, which I do not invoke, but to beseech thee to inspire me with some counsel which may enable me to bear it with patience.”  Then turning to Dona Estafania, “This boy, senora,” she said, “towards whom you have manifested the extreme of your great kindness and compassion, is your own grandson.  It was by the merciful providence of Heaven that he was run over, in order that being taken to your house, I should find him in it, as I hope to find there, if not the remedy most appropriate to my misfortune, at least the means of alleviating it.”  Thus saying, and pressing the crucifix to her breast, she fell fainting into the arms of Dona Estafania, who as a gentlewoman, to whose sex pity is as natural as cruelty is to man, instantly pressed her lips to those of the fainting girl, shedding over her so many tears that there needed no other sprinkling of water to recover Leocadia from her swoon.