"No, I swear to you, no! Come, don't speak any more of this, Julita, for this sort of talk annoys me very much."
For a moment the young girl's eyes sparkled joyfully. Then the same expression of unhappiness came back into them.
Five or six days passed. Don Alfonso redoubled his manifestations of affection. Nevertheless, such oppressive unhappiness weighed upon the lovers that they were obliged to remain long moments in silence, with their heads down and their eyes fixed on vacancy. Julita often shed tears, and Saavedra, also overwhelmed with sorrow put forth useless efforts to console her. The truth was they saw no way out of their difficulties. The horizon was absolutely shut in and dark.
"I haven't any profession whatever," said the caballero. "If we were to marry, we should starve to death.... That is the result of having educated me for a rich man!"
"As for starving to death, I don't believe it," said Julita, her face deeply flushing. "Mamma and I are not rich, but we can live decently.... It is clear that for you who are accustomed to another sort of life, it would be very hard ... but ..."
"Oh, don't speak of that, Julia!" exclaimed the caballero, with the gesture of a man whose dignity was wounded.... "It is lowering me too much to believe that I could consent for you to support me.... But even if I were so low as that, still I could not do it, because I do not want to be my mother's murderer."
The girl said no more, and, as often before, the tears began to slide down her cheeks.
"Does your mother have any suspicion of what is going on?"
"No."
"Then be very careful. You know as well as I do how peculiar she is; if she had a suspicion that my mamma objected, she would spoil the whole business, and I should never consent to set my foot in this house again."