“Here is Manuel,” said the young woman. “Come with me, mother; I do not wish to be alone with him, when he learns that we have admitted a stranger.”
The mother-in-law followed the steps of her daughter.
“God be praised! Good evening, mother; good evening, wife,” said, on entering, a strong and powerfully constructed man. He seemed to be thirty-eight to forty years old, and was followed by a child of about thirteen years.
“Come, Momo![2] unlade the ass and lead him to the stable; the poor beast is tired.”
Momo carried to the kitchen, where the family was accustomed to assemble, a supply of large loaves of white bread, some very plump woodcock, and his father’s cloak.
Dolores went and closed the door and then rejoined her husband and her mother in the kitchen.
“Have you brought my ham and my starch?” she asked.
“Here there are.”
“And my flax?”
“I had almost a desire to forget it,” answered Manuel, smiling, and handing some skeins to his mother.