"You are unjust, Paredes," the Marquis replied. "Don Rufino Contreras, to whom you allude, is one of my best friends, and I must speak of his behaviour in the highest terms of praise."
"That is possible, mi amo, that is possible," the majordomo said, shaking his head with an air of conviction; "but if I may be permitted to express an opinion about that gentleman, I fancy we had better wait a while before fully making up our minds about him."
"What do you mean?"
"Nothing, mi amo, really nothing. I have an idea, that is all."
"That reminds me, father, that on leaving me, Don Rufino gave me a letter, which he begged me to deliver to you so soon as I reached the hacienda."
"Yes; he informed me of his intention of writing."
"Hum!" the majordomo said, between his teeth, but loudly enough for the Marquis to hear him; "I always had a bad idea of men who prefer blackening paper to explain themselves frankly in words."
During this aside, the Marquis had opened and read the letter.
"This time, at any rate," he said, "Don Rufino cannot be accused of want of frankness, or of not explaining himself clearly. He warns me of the measures taken against me, and after showing me, in a most gentlemanly manner, the precarious nature of my position, he ends by offering me the means of escaping from it in the most honourable way; in one word, he asks for my daughter's hand, and offers her a dowry of one and a half million piastres, besides liquidating my debts."
Doña Marianna was crushed by the blow so suddenly dealt her. The Marquis continued, with the bitter accent he had hitherto employed—"Such is the state we have reached, my children; we, the descendants of a race of worthies noble as the king, and whose escutcheon is unstained, have so fallen from our lofty social position, that we are too greatly honoured by the offer of a man whose grandfather was our vassal. But such is the way of the world, and why blame it when we live in an age in which everything is possible?"