Doña Perfecta’s eyes grew moist.
“My dear aunt,” said Pepe, feeling his anger vanish, “I too have committed some faults since I have been a guest in this house.”
“Don’t be foolish. Don’t talk about committing faults. Among the persons of the same family every thing is forgiven.”
“But Rosarito—where is she?” asked the young man, rising. “Am I not to see her to-day, either?”
“She is better. Do you know that she did not wish to come down stairs?”
“I will go up to her then.”
“No, it would be of no use. That girl has some obstinate notions—to-day she is determined not to leave her room. She has locked herself in.”
“What a strange idea!”
“She will get over it. Undoubtedly she will get over it. We will see to-night if we cannot put these melancholy thoughts out of her head. We will get up a party to amuse her. Why don’t you go to Don Inocencio’s and ask him to come here to-night and bring Jacintillo with him?”
“Jacintillo!”