The historian does not feel it a serious lapse of duty not to have mentioned already that the Tellerias flew to Suertebella as soon as they heard of María’s serious illness. It is so much a matter of course that the reader will have taken it for granted, though this truthful narrative has not spoken of it in so many words. A thing which it is necessary to state, in case posterity—always inquisitive and impertinent—cares to know, is that on the morning of that eventful Tuesday—the day of the penitential mass, of Paoletti’s visit, and of Pepa’s departure—the marquesa with her husband and Polito, heard, with blank astonishment, this emphatic decision pronounced by Leon Roch:
“You cannot see María!”
“Not to-day even? I can hardly believe my ears!” exclaimed Milagros, unable to command her indignation. “To forbid a mother who has come to see her sick child!”
“And me, her father!”
Polito said nothing, but whipped his trousers with the cane he held in his hand.
“What reason can you have for such a proceeding?”
“I can find a reason when I want to give one,” said Leon.
“I demand to go in and see my daughter, to nurse her, sit with her....”
“I nurse her and sit with her.”