Dona Perfecta sank again on the sofa; but she shed no tears, and a convulsive tremor agitated her frame.

“So that for this infamous atheist,” she exclaimed, with frank rage, “there are no social conventionalities, there is nothing but caprice.  This is base avarice.  My daughter is rich!”

“If you think to wound me with that treacherous weapon, evading the question and giving a distorted meaning to my sentiments in order to offend my dignity, you are mistaken, dear aunt.  Call me mercenary, if you choose.  God knows what I am.”

“You have no dignity!”

“That is an opinion, like any other.  The world may hold you to be infallible.  I do not.  I am far from believing that from your judgments there is no appeal to God.”

“But is what you say true?  But do you persist in your purpose, after my refusal?  You respect nothing, you are a monster, a bandit.”

“I am a man.”

“A wretch!  Let us end this at once.  I refuse to give my daughter to you; I refuse her to you!”

“I will take her then!  I shall take only what is mine.”

“Leave my presence!” exclaimed Dona Perfecta, rising suddenly to her feet.  “Coxcomb, do you suppose that my daughter thinks of you?”

“She loves me, as I love her.”

“It is a lie!  It is a lie!”

“She herself has told me so.  Excuse me if, on this point, I put more faith in her words than in her mother’s.”

“How could she have told you so, when you have not seen her for several days?”

“I saw her last night, and she swore to me before the crucifix in the chapel that she would be my wife.”

“Oh, scandal; oh, libertinism!  But what is this?  My God, what a disgrace!” exclaimed Dona Perfecta, pressing her head again between her hands and walking up and down the room.  “Rosario left her room last night?”

“She left it to see me.  It was time.”

“What vile conduct is yours!  You have acted like a thief; you have acted like a vulgar seducer!”

“I have acted in accordance with the teachings of your school.  My intention was good.”

“And she came down stairs!  Ah, I suspected it!  This morning at daybreak I surprised her, dressed, in her room.  She told me she had gone out, I don’t know for what.  You were the real criminal, then.  This is a disgrace!  Pepe, I expected any thing from you rather than an outrage like this.  Every thing is at an end!  Go away!  You are dead to me.  I forgive you, provided you go away.  I will not say a word about this to your father.  What horrible selfishness!  No, there is no love in you.  You do not love my daughter!”

“God knows that I love her, and that is sufficient for me.”

“Be silent, blasphemer! and don’t take the name of God upon your lips!” exclaimed Dona Perfecta.  “In the name of God, whom I can invoke, for I believe in him, I tell you that my daughter will never be your wife.  My daughter will be saved, Pepe; my daughter shall not be condemned to a living hell, for a union with you would be a hell!”