Behind her was seated an old woman, her duenna, with a rosary in her hand.
She gazed upon the young girl with deep compassion; from time to time she
shook her head, and wiped away the tears which dimmed her eyes whenever
Mary's sighs became heavier.
For some time the silence was unbroken; Mary even appeared somewhat calmer, when suddenly, influenced by some peculiarly painful thought, she extended her arms to heaven and cried out;
"My God and my Saviour! through thy precious blood spare his life! Have mercy on him! reject not the prayer of my broken heart!"
Again her head fell on her hands, as if this burning petition had exhausted her strength. The duenna approached her, took her arm, endeavored to lift her, and said, authoritatively:
"My lady, you must rise and cease your prayer. God may be displeased with you for thus deliberately endangering your health. Come, obey me."
Mary arose without reply, and took the seat offered her by the duenna. She was very pale, and her eyes were swollen from weeping.
The duenna looked upon her with an eye of pity; she took her hand, and said, gently:
"Mary, my child, you cannot continue this; such an excess of sorrow would shorten your days. And what pain to the poor Geronimo on his return, to find you condemned to a short and suffering life! Through love for him, I beg you to control yourself."
"On his return?" repeated Mary, raising her tearful eyes to heaven.
"Why not?" replied the duenna. "Why despair before being certain of the evil you dread? More extraordinary things have happened."