"How frail! How could any creature like that make the journey?" asked Fernando. "She has been very ill."
"She is ill; we dare not mention it to her!"
"But Rafael—her son—"
"Must not be told, so she says; not until the wedding is over. All at once she has gone like that. It is the heart, señor, and she is old. It may be months—may be days—may be only hours, and we can do nothing but keep her quiet and happy."
"Santa Maria!" muttered Dolores, "and Rafael—"
"His heart it will break—no? To not see him at the door is like a bad omen. She likes not the new Americanos' way of business—to be gone at breakfast time to look at ships! But of course he is very good!"
"You are very good," replied Dolores. "Have they sent for Rafael?"
"I will see," said Fernando, and went away muttering, "The so good Rafael!"
"Oh! we have a thousand things to ask you, Raquel," said Madalena. "Could you have been a nun and been happy if—Rafael had not found you?"
"To work for Mother Church—is not that of happiness?"