"No fear; I am stronger than I look."
When the girl at last was leaving the room Gonzalo said timidly:
"Couldn't you read to me a little?"
Cecilia had thought of the idea herself, but as the young man had complained of his wife not doing so, she thought it would put Ventura in a bad position if she offered to do so.
"What would you like me to read?"
"Anything, as long as it is not one of those horrible novels that my wife is so fond of."
"All right, I will read you 'The Christian Year.'"
"Oh, come!" he exclaimed, laughing.
So Cecilia then took from the shelf a volume of poems and began to read, seated near the foot of the bed. In a quarter of an hour Gonzalo fell into a delicious sleep as tranquil as a child. The girl stopped reading and looked at him attentively, or rather fixed her loving eyes on him for a long time.
Then, thinking she heard steps in the passage, and not wishing to be found in that attitude, she jumped up quickly from her chair and left the room on tiptoe. When Gonzalo was convalescent he carried out his wish of going to Tejada, and all the family accompanied him with the exception of Don Rosendo. It was the month of October, and instead of the yellow foliage of other estates, Don Rosendo's place, full of firs, presented a gloomy appearance not at all pleasing to the eye. The young man carried out his program of a hygienic life. He rose early, took his gun, called his dogs, and struck across the country, returning most days with a few partridges in his bag, and as hungry as a cannibal. When his expeditions were shorter Cecilia accompanied him, according to her promise. Although on these occasions few partridges were shot, Gonzalo enjoyed the society of such a sympathetic, agreeable companion. The girl would never confess to being tired, but he always guessed it by her faltering step, and made her sit down until she was rested, when the time passed quickly in joking and talking.