“Come here, you rascal,” said his aunt, smiling with very little spontaneity.  “You have insulted us, you great atheist! but we forgive you.  I am well aware that my daughter and myself are two rustics who are incapable of soaring to the regions of mathematics where you dwell, but for all that it is possible that you may one day get down on your knees to us and beg us to teach you the Christian doctrine.”

Pepe answered with vague phrases and formulas of politeness and repentance.

“For my part,” said Don Inocencio, with an affected air of meekness and amiability, “if in the course of these idle disputes I have said any thing that could offend Senor Don Jose, I beg his pardon for it.  We are all friends here.”

“Thanks.  It is of no consequence.”

“In spite of every thing,” said Dona Perfecta, smiling with more naturalness than before, “I shall always be the same for my dear nephew; in spite of his extravagant and anti-religious ideas.  In what way do you suppose I am going to spend this evening?  Well, in trying to make Uncle Licurgo give up those obstinate notions which would otherwise cause you annoyance.  I sent for him, and he is waiting for me now in the hall.  Make yourself easy, I will arrange the matter; for although I know that he is not altogether without right on his side—­”

“Thanks, dear aunt,” responded the young man, his whole being invaded by a wave of the generous emotion which was so easily aroused in his soul.

Pepe Rey looked in the direction of his cousin, intending to join her, but some wily questions of the canon retained him at Dona Perfecta’s side.  Rosario looked dejected, and was listening with an air of melancholy indifference to the words of the little lawyer, who, having installed himself at her side, kept up a continuous stream of fulsome flatteries, seasoned with ill-timed jests and fatuous remarks in the worst possible taste.

“The worst of it is,” said Dona Perfecta to her nephew—­surprising the glance which he cast in the direction of the ill-assorted pair—­“the worst of it is, that you have offended poor Rosario.  You must do all in your power to make your peace with her.  The poor child is so good!”

“Oh, yes! so good,” added the canon, “that I have no doubt that she will forgive her cousin.”

“I think that Rosario has already forgiven me,” affirmed Rey.

“And if not, angelic breasts do not harbor resentment long,” said Don Inocencio mellifluously.  “I have a great deal of influence with the child, and I will endeavor to dissipate in her generous soul whatever prejudice may exist there against you.  As soon as I say a word or two to her——­”

Pepe Rey felt a cloud darken his soul and he said with meaning: 

“Perhaps it may not be necessary.”

“I will not speak to her now,” added the capitular, “because she is listening entranced to Jacinto’s nonsense.  Ah, those children!  When they once begin there is no stopping them.”