The young lady blushed.
"Father," she answered, as she lavished on her parent those tender blandishments of which girls so thoroughly possess the secret, "during my entire absence I was only thinking of you."
"Alas!" the Marquis murmured, with a choking sigh, "I know your heart, my poor child; unhappily my position is so desperate that nothing can save me."
"Perhaps you may be saved, father," she said, with a toss of her head.
"Do not attempt to lead me astray by false hopes, which, in the end, would render our frightful situation even more cruel than it is."
"I do not wish to do so, father," she said, earnestly, "but I bring you a certainty."
"A certainty, child! That is a very serious word in the mouth of a girl. Where do you suppose it possible to find the means to conjure ill fortune?"
"Not very far off, father; at this very place, if you like."
Don Hernando made no reply, but let his head drop on his chest mournfully.
"Listen to Marianna, father," Don Ruiz then said; "she is the angel of our home. I believe in her, for I am certain that she would not make a jest of our misfortunes."