liar terms with the dentist, whom she
addresses in a mild, soothing tone, as if she were administering words
of comfort to a sick person. We follow her through a narrow corridor,
where I observe numerous doors, which I am told give access to the
apartments or cells occupied by the convent inmates. We pass a chamber
where children's voices are heard. There is a school attached to the
convent, for the benefit of those who desire their offspring to receive
religious instruction from the nuns. Music and fancy needlework are also
taught, and some of the distressed damsels, who, like Cachita, are
undergoing a term of conventual imprisonment for similar offences,
impose upon themselves a mild form of hard labour by assisting to
improve the infant mind. Cachita, who is a good musician, takes an
active part in this branch of education.

At last we are ushered into a gloomy, white-washed apartment
(everything in the convent appears to be of wood and whitewash), where
our guide takes leave of us.

While the dentist, assisted by his practicante, is arranging his
implements for tooth-stopping on a deal table, which, together with a
couple of wooden chairs, constitute the furniture of this cheerless
chamber, an inner door is thrown open, and a couple of nuns, attired in
sombre black, enter with Don Francisco's fair patient. Cachita is
dressed in spotless white, a knotted rope suspended from her girdle, and
a yellowish veil affixed in such a manner to her brow as to completely
conceal her hair, which, simple practicante though I be, I know is dark,
soft, and frizzled at the top. Her pretty face is pale, and already
wears (or seems to wear) the approved expression of monastic
resignation.

At Don Francisco's suggestion, I carefully conceal my face while Cachita
seats herself between the sentinel nuns.

The dentist, with a presence of mind which I emulate but little,
commences his business of tooth-stopping, pausing in his work to
exchange a few friendly words with his patient and the amicable nuns.
Hitherto my services have not been in requisition; but anon the subject
of the tooth-powder is introduced.

Will La Cachita allow the dentist to recommend her a tooth-powder of his
own preparation?

Cachita is in no immediate need of such an article, but the dentist is
persuasive, and the young lady is prevailed upon to give the powder a
trial.

'You will derive much benefit from its use,' observes Don Francisco. 'My
assistant' (an