Then the old woman frowned, and whispered to the one who was standing next her:—
"That child imagines that she is going on a pilgrimage! Ay Diós! It is evident that she has not a grain of feeling. Marriage is a very serious affair ... very serious." And until she reached her own house she did not cease discoursing long and learnedly on the seriousness of this tie.
Our lovers were left with Doña Rosalía and Don Valentín; the children had already gone to bed,—the youngest, Adolfo, whom his mother had been obliged to take to his room by main force and the promise to wake him on the next day in time to be present at the ceremony. Don Valentín likewise bade them good night and went to his room. Miguel and Maximina sat down on two low chairs, and began to whisper, while Doña Rosalía, still in bad humor, decided to knit until it should seem good to her to put an end to the session, which should be within a very few minutes.
Miguel noticed that Maximina was absent-minded and somewhat nervous.
"What is the matter?... I can see by thy face that something troubles thee.... Art thou not content to be my wife?"
"Oh, yes! There is nothing the matter."
"Then, why this absent-mindedness?"
She hung her head and did not answer. Miguel insisted upon knowing:—
"Come, tell me, what are you thinking about?"