rriage of her niece with
Linares. Captain Tiago was not at home.

"Come in," said the aunt in her half-Castellano language. "Maria,
Don Crisostomo is again in the grace of God. The Archbishop has
dis-excommunicated him."

But the young man could not advance. His smile froze on his lips, and
words fled from his mind. Linares was standing next to Maria Clara on
the balcony, interweaving nosegays with the flowers and leaves on the
climbing plants. On the floor, were scattered roses and sampagas. Maria
Clara was leaning back on a sofa, pale, pensive, her look sad, playing
with her ivory fan. But the fan was not as white as her poor fingers.

At the presence of Ibarra, Linares turned pale and Maria Clara's
cheeks were tinged with carmine. She tried to rise, but her strength
failing her, she cast her eyes upon the floor, and let fall her fan.

An embarrassing silence reigned for several seconds. Finally, Ibarra
was able to advance, and tremblingly murmured:

"I have just arrived and have hastened to see you.... I find that
you are better than I thought."

Maria Clara seemed to have turned dumb. She could not pronounce a
single word, and continued to keep her eyes on the floor.

Ibarra surveyed Linares with a look which the modest young man bore
with considerable haughtiness.

"Well, I see that my arrival was not expected," he said slowly. "Maria,
pardon me for not having announced my coming. Some other day I will
be able to explain to you my conduct."

These words were accompanied with a look at Linares. The maiden
raised her eyes to Ibarra, those beautiful eyes, full of purity and
melancholy, so supplicating and sweet that Ibarra stopped confused.

"May I come to-morrow?"

"You know that on my part you are always welcome," replied she,
scarcely able to pronounce the words.

Ibarra walked away, apparently tranquil; but a tempest raged in his
mind, and his heart was chilled. What he had just seen and felt was
incomprehensible. What was it? Doubt, apathy or treason?

"Oh, woman!" he murmured.

He arrived, without noticing it, at the place where the school house
was being constructed. The work was well along. Nor Juan, with his
yard stick and plumb-line, was going to and fro among the numerous
workmen. On seeing the young man approach, he ran to meet him.

"Don Crisostomo," said he, "you have arrived at last. We were all
expecting you. Just see how the walls are rising. They are already
a meter and ten centime