“In fine, child, no matter what objections you may make, Senor Don Pepe Rey will carry off the girl.  It is not possible now to prevent it.  He is ready to employ every means, including dishonor.  If Rosarito—­how she deceived us with that demure little face and those heavenly eyes, eh!—­if Rosarito, I say, did not herself wish it, then all might be arranged, but alas! she loves him as the sinner loves Satan; she is consumed with a criminal passion; she has fallen, niece, into the snares of the Evil One.  Let us be virtuous and upright; let us turn our eyes away from the ignoble pair, and think no more about either of them.”

“You know nothing about women, uncle,” said Remedios, with flattering hypocrisy; “you are a holy man; you do not understand that Rosario’s feeling is only a passing caprice, one of those caprices that are cured by a sound whipping.”

“Niece,” said Don Inocencio gravely and sententiously, “when serious things have taken place, caprices are not called caprices, but by another name.”

“Uncle, you don’t know what you are talking about,” responded Maria Remedios, her face flushing suddenly.  “What! would you be capable of supposing that Rosarito—­what an atrocity!  I will defend her; yes, I will defend her.  She is as pure as an angel.  Why, uncle, those things bring a blush to my cheek, and make me indignant with you.”

As she spoke the good priest’s face was darkened by a cloud of sadness that made him look ten years older.

“My dear Remedios,” he said, “we have done all that is humanly possible, and all that in conscience we can or ought to do.  Nothing could be more natural than our desire to see Jacintillo connected with that great family, the first in Orbajosa; nothing more natural than our desire to see him master of the seven houses in the town, the meadow of Mundogrande, the three gardens of the upper farm, La Encomienda, and the other lands and houses which that girl owns.  Your son has great merit, every one knows it well.  Rosarito liked him, and he liked Rosarito.  The matter seemed settled.  Dona Perfecta herself, without being very enthusiastic, doubtless on account of our origin, seemed favorably disposed toward it, because of her great esteem and veneration for me, as her confessor and friend.  But suddenly this unlucky young man presents himself.  The senora tells me that she has given her word to her brother, and that she cannot reject the proposal made by him.  A difficult situation!  But what do I do in view of all this?  Ah, you don’t know every thing!  I will be frank with you.  If I had found Senor de Rey to be a man of good principles, calculated to make Rosario happy, I would not have interfered in the matter; but the young man appeared to me to be a wretch, and, as the spiritual director of the house, it was my duty to take a hand in the business, and I took it.  You know already that I determined to unmask him.  I exposed his vices; I made manifest