It only made Teresa laugh; she knew how Harry must have enjoyed writing it—could see him jumping on to his bicycle and hurrying down to the University Library to verify in one of the books of the late Lord Acton the definition of Transubstantiation.
Unfortunately she left it lying about; and it fell into the hands of the Doña, whom Teresa found in the act of reading it, with set face and compressed lips.
At the bottom of her heart the Doña attached as little importance to it as Teresa had done: the fact of its having been written to Teresa and not to herself marked it as being nothing more than a harmless and half facetious means of relieving his feelings; besides, she knew that to sever all connection with Plasencia would be too drastic a step—involving too many complications, too many painful scenes—also, too dramatic a step to be taken by Harry in cold blood.
But there are very few people who have the strength and poise of intellect to resist, by an honest scrutiny of facts, the exquisite pleasure of thinking themselves despitefully used by their enemy—very few too who can resist the pleasure of avenging this despiteful usage on a third and, to the vulgar eye, quite innocent person.
The human soul requires for the play that is its hidden life but a tiny cast; and to provide parts for its enormous company it falls back upon the device of understudies, six or seven sometimes to one part. When this is properly understood the use of the scapegoat will seem less unjust.
Anyhow, the Doña chose to pretend to herself that she took Harry’s letter seriously; and Dick was chosen as the scapegoat.
There is prevalent in Spain a system of barter with the Deity, the contracts entered into being of the following nature: If God (or the Virgin or Saint ...) will make Fulano faithful to Fulana, Fulana will not enter a theatre for a month; or if God will bring little Juanito safely through his operation for adenoids, Fulano will try to love his mother-in-law.
As a result of Harry’s letter the Doña entered into such a contract: her Maker was to ensure the ultimate saving of her grandchildren’s souls; while her part of the bargain affected Dick and, incidentally, was extremely agreeable to herself.
In her bedroom an identical little comedy was enacted on two separate nights. On its being repeated a third time, Dick burst out angrily: “Oh, very well then ... it’s a bit ... no one could say I bothered you much nowadays.... I know—that damned priest has had the impertinence to interfere in my affairs.... I suppose ... I won’t ... very well, then!”
If it had not been dark he would have seen that the Doña’s eyes were bright and shining with pleasure.