"But what is the matter, my daughter?"
"Nothing," she replied at last, taking her hands from her face, and she smiled, but her eyes were wet.
"I know, I know," returned the mother. "You want the salts; you feel faint."
"No, I am not faint; I am quite well."
The conversation was then renewed, and Doña Paula expressed her wish that Gonzalo should come and live with them. This he rather objected to at first, as he knew his uncle would not like it, nevertheless he ended by conceding to the entreaties of both ladies. It was so natural that they should not want to be separated! "You can both be quite independent, I will take care of that. There is the large room, the blue one, you know, Cecilia; it has a large alcove; then you only want the study for Gonzalo. But I have thought of that. Just by the large room there is the wardrobe-room, that opens on the courtyard; it is nice and light. It is all in disorder now, but, with a little trouble, it could be turned into a very nice room. Would you like to see it, Gonzalo?"
The young man replied that it was not necessary, that he believed all she said, and that he had as good as seen it; but the lady insisted on it, and, taking a flat candlestick, she escorted him to the other end of the house.
"This is the room—large, is it not? Two windows. The alcove is large enough for two beds, let alone for one," she added, with a glance at her daughter, who turned aside to shut a window.
"Let us go and see the wardrobe-room—"
And leaving the apartment, crossing a passage, and turning round a corner, they entered another room full of cupboards and lumber.
"Don't mind about the distance, for it is really next to the large room; it only wants a door of communication to be made between."