Still she suffered greatly; she imagined that everybody despised her, that they were going to say impudent things to her; the unfriendly glances so much in fashion among the natives of Madrid filled her with terror; she could have wished to be invisible!
But she did not venture to tell her fears to Miguel, lest she should vex him, and cause him to go to mass with her against his inclinations.
One morning, a little while after she had started out for church, Miguel heard the bell ring violently; then the library door was flung open, and Maximina came in, pale as a sheet.
"What has happened?" he demanded, rising.
Maximina dropped into a chair, hid her face in her hands, and began to weep.
Miguel anxiously insisted: "Did you feel ill?"
The young wife made an affirmative gesture.
"How was it? Tell me."
"I don't know," she replied, in a weak and hesitating voice. "I had been in church but a few minutes.... I begun to feel sick. Then the pictures of the saints began to waver before my eyes.... I felt as though my sight were leaving me.... And without knowing what I was doing I started to run.... And before I knew it I found myself near the grand altar.... I heard the people saying: 'What is it? what is it?' and that there was a confusion.... I turned around, and without looking at any one, I crossed the church again, and came out...."
Miguel succeeded in calming her; he made the servant bring her a cup of lime juice, and promised that he would not let her go to church again alone.