“I am more and more astounded every moment,” said the engineer.

“Be as astounded as you choose, but confess your barbarity,” said the lady, with increasing spirit; “acknowledge your hastiness and your brutal conduct toward me in accusing me as you have done.  You are a young man without any experience or any other knowledge than that which is derived from books, which teach nothing about the world or the human heart.  All you know is how to make roads and docks.  Ah, my young gentleman! one does not enter into the human heart through the tunnel of a railroad, or descend into its depths through the shaft of a mine.  You cannot read in the conscience of another with the microscope of a naturalist, nor decide the question of another’s culpability measuring ideas with a theodolite.”

“For God’s sake, dear aunt!”

“Why do you pronounce the name of God when you do not believe in him?” said Dona Perfecta, in solemn accents.  “If you believed in him, if you were a good Christian, you would not dare to form evil judgments about my conduct.  I am a devout woman, do you understand?  I have a tranquil conscience, do you understand?  I know what I am doing and why I do it, do you understand?”

“I understand, I understand, I understand!”

“God in whom you do not believe, sees what you do not see and what you cannot see—­the intention.  I will say no more; I do not wish to enter into minute explanations, for I do not need to do so.  Nor would you understand me if I should tell you that I desired to attain my object without scandal, without offending your father, without offending you, without giving cause for people to talk by an explicit refusal—­I will say nothing of all this to you, for you would not understand it, either, Pepe.  You are a mathematician.  You see what is before your eyes, and nothing more; brute matter and nothing more.  You see the effect, and not the cause.  God is the supreme intention of the world.  He who does not know this must necessarily judge things as you judge them—­foolishly.  In the tempest, for instance, he sees only destruction; in the conflagration, ruin; in the drought, famine; in the earthquake, desolation; and yet, arrogant young man, in all those apparent calamities we are to seek the good intentions—­yes, senor, the intention, always good, of Him who can do nothing evil.”

This confused, subtle, and mystic logic did not convince Pepe Rey; but he did not wish to follow his aunt in the tortuous path of such a method of reasoning, and he said simply: 

“Well, I respect intentions.”

“Now that you seem to recognize your error,” continued the pious lady, with ever-increasing confidence, “I will make another confession to you, and that is that I see now that I did wrong in adopting the course I did, although my object was excellent.  In view of your impetuous disposition, in view of your incapacity to comprehend me, I should have faced the situation boldly and said to you, ’Nephew, I do not wish that you should be my daughter’s husband.’”