"But I, your father—you forget me, then, and I am no longer anything to you?"
The girl hesitated: she remained silent, with downcast eyes.
"Doña," the missionary said gently, "God curses children who abandon their father: return to yours. There is still time: he holds out his arms to you—-he calls you. Return, my child. A parent's heart is an inexhaustible well of indulgence. Your father will forgive you: he has already done so."
Doña Angela shook her head, but made no further reply. The general and the missionary regarded each other with disappointment, while Don Louis stood a little in the rear, his arms folded on his breast, with sunken head and thoughtful air.
"Oh!" the general muttered with concentrated passion, "ours is an accursed race!"
At this moment Don Louis drew himself up, and walked a few paces forward.
"Doña Angela," he said with marked significance, "was it really your own will that brought you here?"
"Yes," she answered resolutely.
"And you have really decided on obeying neither the orders nor entreaties of your father?"
"Yes," she said again.