While she distributed their tasks among the children, saying to one, "Take care to make this hem straight," to another, "Make this seam even, the stitch smaller," to a third, "Use your handkerchief instead of your dress," and to still another, "Sit still, child, don't move your feet," Leocadia cast a glance from time to time toward the plaza in the hope of seeing Segundo pass by. But no Segundo was to be seen. The flies settled themselves to sleep, buzzing, on the ceiling; the heat abated; the afternoon came, and the children went away. Leocadia felt a profound sadness take possession of her and, without waiting to put the house in order, she went to her room and threw herself on the bed.
The glass door was pushed gently open, and some one entered softly.
"Mamma," said the intruder, in a low voice.
The schoolmistress did not answer.
"Mamma, mamma," repeated the hunchback, in a louder voice. "Mamma!" he shouted at last.
"Is that you? What do you want?"
"No, child."
"As you went to bed——'
"I have a slight headache. There, leave me in peace."