At that instant the Sister Luisa, the nun who was to be punished for her vanity, came in and fell upon her knees, but not the slightest trace of a blush passed over her face. The habit of performing such deeds deprived them of all worth.
The conversation wandered off upon festivals, novenas to come, the journey of the vicar who was called to be canon of the cathedral, his successor, and other subjects. Insensibly all were lowering the tone of their voices until there was only a monotonous and melancholy whispering. It seemed like a visit of condolence rather than of congratulation. They continued to extol Maria's courage and virtue. "Ay, Dios mio! to think that she is a prisoner forever and living a life of so much labor...."
The Mother Superior looking at the novice, with a sort of half smile not very encouraging, exclaimed, "Poor little one! poor little one! "But she, turning around with one of those graceful gestures so characteristic, replied, "Rich little one, rich little one,[72] say I, mother!"
Gradually the young men had been getting near the girls, and without respect to the holiness of the place, or heeding the stern crucifixes fastened to the walls, they began to whisper more or less roguish remarks.
"When are you going to follow her example, Fulanita? The truth is, that if all of you did the same, what would become of us? But you would be sure to look lovely in the habit! See here, Amparito! If you should become a nun, I should wish to be vicar!"
"Now I wish you would be a little more serious, Suárez."
"How long should I have to be a priest to become vicar?... the worst thing is the grating.... Can't the vicar get behind the grating?"
"Be silent, man alive! it is a sin to say such things in this place!"
Rosarito and her lover had taken possession of a corner, only from time to time making some insignificant remark roused into the category of the sublime by the inflection of the voice and the trembling of the lips. Only the old women, and a few young girls who had not succeeded in finding mates, still continued talking with the nuns. At last the Mother Superior arose from her chair, and Maria followed her example.
A man, a venerable man, crossed the plaza of Nieva with rapid strides; he followed the winding streets, he reached the convent of San Bernardo, he entered the court, mounted the stairway, pushed open the door of the reception-room, forced his way through the people, and laid heavy hands on the grating. He intended to say something solemn, something tremendous. It could be seen by the wrathful expression of his face, by the pallor of his cheeks, by the disorder of his white locks.