"Captain Ribot! It cannot be!" she cried in a choking voice.
"Here is the deed of the property, and here is the deed of gift," I answered, presenting the documents.
"But my daughter cannot accept such an enormous sacrifice!"
"I have few necessities and no near relations. The law gives me the right to choose my heir. I have already chosen her," I added, placing my hand on the curly little head of my god-daughter.
She remained quiet with her eyes fixed upon the ground. At last she went out of the glorieta, and without opening her lips started towards the house. I followed her at a distance, leaving the fainting form of Doña Amparo to the care of the child and the servant. I observed that she walked faster and faster. When she reached the door she was almost running. She paused a moment, kissed the wall, and entered.
I followed her as she went about the rooms; I heard her exclamations of delight, and even saw her go into her own room. At sight of that, a cry escaped her, and she fell sobbing upon the white-wood bed.
I went over to her and said:
"This room holds yet within its walls the perfume of a sacred and peaceful life. The furniture had been scattered through the city; and these pieces, that could claim nobody as one master, on finding themselves together again will speak to you, Cristina, in the sweet and mysterious language of their souvenirs. I consider myself happy in having restored them, and happier yet in having worked for so many days to arrive at this moment."
She rose from the bed, and, holding out her hand, said to me in a trembling voice:
"Thank you, Ribot, many thanks. You are indeed a faithful friend to us. God will reward you for all the good you have done, for I can never repay you."