"May I not even see the poor child?" said the lady, as soon as the man had departed.
"Better not, far better not, my daughter. You know not into what difficulties, what errors, nay, into what dangers you might be drawn by intercourse with any member of the family of the apostate De Aguilera."
The servant soon returned, his looks expressing compassion.
"The señorita entreats to be admitted to enter; she says that her business is most urgent, and cannot be delayed."
Donna Maria coloured, bit her lip, and looked down at her open fan, as if she were counting the spangles upon it.
"I cannot see Donna Inez de Aguilera," she replied, with a decision of manner which cost her an effort. The señora was a selfish, worldly woman; but she must have been utterly destitute of natural feeling if she could have unconcernedly driven from her door the friendless, destitute orphan girl, who, as the señora well knew, had come to plead the cause of a brother, and seek a friend's counsel and help in the hour of her deepest distress.
FOOTNOTES:
[20] Vide "Daybreak in Spain."