"By my sword! that modesty becomes thee mightily. But we must lose no time. Attend vespers this afternoon, there thou shalt find my conscientious valet, who will give thee proper directions and assistance to effect thy escape, and ample means to pass the remainder of thy precious life in some distant city of Spain, free from the blessed idea of conventual retirement."
"That will I do, most generous Don Lope, and be thankful withal."
"But stay," added Gomez Arias with mock gravity; "there is one objection to this arrangement."
"Virgen de las Angustias!—What is it, Señor?" demanded the duenna, in visible alarm.
"Why!" answered Gomez Arias, "only that thou must sacrifice somewhat of that dear, unsullied reputation by following such a course."
"Alas, Señor!" exclaimed she of the nice reputation—"That is too true; willingly would I preserve it entire, but feeble mortals are not bound to do more than their strength can compass."
"True," rejoined Gomez Arias; "thine argument, most venerable Martha, is a very plausible argument, and very consoling withal."
At this moment a noise was heard. The duenna started. "It is my master, and Don Antonio," cried she. "Hence! begone, Don Lope, they must not see us together."
"Fear not, most respected dame," said Gomez Arias; "I am no college gallant, no unskilful tyro in the affairs of love; I depart but to return in due time."
"Return!" echoed Martha; "to what purpose?"