"This is horrible! I would not have her grow desperate. I shall arm myself with courage—I will go to see her."
"May Heaven bless you! But my heart told me you would go. How good you are!"
"When do you wish me to go?"
"To-night, at ten o'clock precisely. I will be at the street-door waiting for you, and will take you to her."
"Does she know you have come to see me?"
"She does not—it was all my own idea; but I will prepare her cautiously, so that the surprise, the unexpected joy of your visit, may not be too much for her. You promise me to come?"
"I will go."
"Good-by. Don't fail to come. At ten o'clock precisely. I shall be at the door."
And Antoñona hurried away, descended the steps two at a time, and so gained the street.
It can not be denied that Antoñona displayed great prudence on this occasion, and that her language was so dignified and proper that some may think it apocryphal, if there were not the very best authority for all that is related here, and if we did not know, besides, the wonders the natural cleverness of a woman may work when she is spurred on by interest or by some strong passion.