When George left, Mercedes hurried to her bedside to pray. In all the sad tribulations of her mind, her heart turned to her Redeemer and the Blessed Virgin Mary. To them she told all her grief, all her trials, and after begging to be strengthened, she always arose from her bended knees comforted.
This time, however, her convulsive sobs only became more uncontrollable, as she poured out her great sorrow and terrible fears before the pitying Mother of suffering humanity.
When her sobs were almost a paroxysm, Madame Halier, who had come to the door to listen, went, and much excited, told Doña Josefa that Mercita would certainly be ill if some one didn't show a little humanity to her.
Doña Josefa hurried to Mercedes' room, and found her still at her bedside sobbing and praying. Gently the mother lifted her child and pressed her to her heart.
“Mercedes, darling, have courage. Your father and Clarence will talk this matter over, and determine what is best to do. Perhaps it might all be arranged.”
“You will not tell Clarence to—that—to go away?”
“Certainly not. But there must be some other arrangement about the wedding. It will be postponed, perhaps. Darrell could not be expected to be present, or he might wish the engagement broken off.”
Carlota and Rosario came in to see how Mercedes felt, as Madam Halier seemed to be so anxious and indignant with everybody for their cruelty to Mercedes.
“If old Darrell wants the engagement broken off, then my dear sister you must break it—else he will have a good reason to say that papa wants to sell you, or to entrap Clarence, for his money, into marrying you,” Rosario said.
“Did Mr. Darrell say that?” Mercedes asked, blushing, so that her pale face became suffused to the roots of her hair.