It is impossible to give any idea of the poor little vagabond's feelings in this crowning hour of her life. An instinctive dread kept her away from the house at Aldeacorba, a dread that was dimly mixed up with the personality of her young benefactress, like the figures we see in a nightmare; while, at the same time, she felt tender admiration and reverence for her. Now and again, in her innocent bewilderment, she fancied it must be the Virgin Mary in her actual presence; in no other way could she conceive of the kind-heartedness which smiled upon her, like the realms of Paradise, from the open soul of Florentina, with its purity, tenderness, gentleness, and gracious consolations. Nela's honest instinct made her feel and understand at once that she could not hate her self-constituted sister. Hate her! How could she? She felt she must love her with all the strength of her soul. Her aversion and repulsion sank to the bottom like a sediment after fermentation, and there decomposed and vanished, their elements recombining to intensify the admiration and respect she felt for her benefactress. Still, though the feeling had disappeared, the cause remained—the sentiment which, as it could no longer flourish singly in her soul, with that masterful exclusiveness which is characteristic of such passions, revenged itself by producing that utter dejection which is the very demon of melancholy.
At Centeno's they remarked that Nela did not eat, that she seemed wearier than usual, that for long intervals she sat as silent and motionless as a statue, and that she sang no longer, day or night. Her incapacity for exertion had become absolute helplessness, and Tanasio, having sent her to buy him some tobacco, she sat down in the road and remained there for the rest of the day.
One morning, just a week after the operation had been performed, she went up to the engineer's house, and Sofía said to her: "A gift for good news Nela! Have you heard? They have taken off the bandages to-day, and they say he can see, that he will see quite well. Ulysses, the foreman of the works, has just been to tell us. Teodoro has not been here, but my husband has gone to Aldeacorba—we shall know the truth very soon."
Nela, as she heard it, felt more dead than alive, and crossing her hands she exclaimed: "Blessed be the Holy Virgin who has worked this wonder!—She, she alone has done it."
"You are glad little one?—No wonder, for now Señorita Florentina will keep her promise," said Sofía in a bantering tone. "Allow me to congratulate you, Señorita Doña Nela.—Why it is like a lottery! What a big prize, Nelilla! And yet you may not be grateful—no, you will not. I never yet knew any poor who were grateful. They are all proud, and the more you give them the more they ask.—Well, it is a settled thing that Pablo is to marry his cousin, and it is a very good match; they are a handsome pair and she seems no fool—and she has a sweet pretty face; what a pity to spoil such a face and figure by dressing so villanously! No, no, if I want to dress well I will not apply to the dressmaker at Santa Irene de Campó."
As she spoke Don Cárlos came in; he was radiant with satisfaction and delight.
"A complete success!" he shouted as he reached the door. "Next to God stands my brother Teodoro!"
"It is quite certain?"
"As sure as daylight—I never believed it could be.—And what a triumph, Sofía! What a triumph! It is my greatest pride and happiness to be my brother's brother. He is the king of men.—Yes, as I say: First God, and then Teodoro!"