"Fortunate for her, my dear! I don't know as I shall have strength enough to see the ceremony."
"But I am going to see it, though it should cost me a fit of sickness."
Some were already beginning to shed tears, putting their handkerchiefs to their eyes; others were whispering about the preparations for the festival, and the circumstances which had led the young woman to take the veil. Much was said about a letter which she had written to the Marqués de Peñalta, bidding him farewell, and exculpating herself. Some pitied Ricardo, while others said in an undertone, that he would have no trouble in finding somebody to marry him. "After all, if God called her to Him by this path, had she any reason to turn from Him, because a young lad was in love with her? If she had left him for another, that would be different! but as it was for God, he had no right to complain." This was the same argument that shone in the Señorita de Elorza'a letter, written and sent to Ricardo a fortnight before the day of which we are speaking. Thus it ran:—
"MY DEAR RICARDO,—
Though it is now some time since the course of our love was interrupted, tacitly, and by virtue of providential circumstances, rather than by my desire, I feel it my duty to explain to thee something about the resolution which I have made, and which, of course, is known to thee, I cannot forget, and indeed I ought not to forget, that thou hast been my betrothed, with the approbation of my parents, and the sincere affection of my heart.
"Before renouncing the world forever, I must tell thee that I have absolutely no reason to complain of thy behavior to me. Thou hast ever been good, true, and affectionate, and hast estimated me higher than I deserve. It is indeed true, that if I were to remain in the world I would not give thee in exchange for any other man, and I should count myself very happy in calling thee my husband, if I did not count myself much more so in being the bride of Jesus Christ. The preference which I make cannot offend or trouble a man who is as good and pious as thou art. Henceforth no earthly love exists between us; there remains only a pure and most sweet friendship, uniting us in the Sacred Heart of Jesus. I shall not forget thee in my poor prayers. Forget me as far as possible. Thou art good, thou art noble, handsome, and rich. Seek for a woman who will deserve thee more than I deserve thee, and marry, and be happy. I shall pray without ceasing for you.
"Adios,
"Maria."
Could he have had a better gilded pill? No; no; Ricardo had no right to complain.
While the most of the ladies added innumerable glosses to this document, those who were robing the new bride-elect of Jesus were about finishing their task and giving the last touches to her dress, with the same complacency that an artist shows in laying the last shades on his picture, stepping back and coming near a thousand times to realize the effect produced. Here a pin; the throat a little more open to show the beautiful alabaster neck; a few ringlets on her brow carelessly escaping from among the orange flowers; a button that needed fastening. Maria aided her maids of honor with quick motions. All admired her serenity. And, in fact, the young bride could not have shown a face more joyous at such moments. Nevertheless there was a certain agitation noticeable in her joy. Her movements were too quick and eager, as though she were trying to hide the slight trembling of her hands and the tremor that ran over her whole body. Was it a tremor of delight?