“What’s the matter?” asked Señora Patrocinio. “Do you need money?”
“No. Do you, too, wish to offend me?”
“No; I just wanted to give you some.”
“Thanks very much! You are the only person who takes any interest in me—why, I don’t know.... I have come to see you tonight because I am unhappy.”
“I know.... Rafaela is going to get married.”
“And how do you know that that is the reason for my unhappiness?”
“Nothing is secret from me. You liked her, but you will get over it soon. She was fond of you, too.”
“Do you think ...?”
“Yes; but the poor girl had a bad beginning in life, and does well not to get mixed up in adventures; for the majority of men aren’t even worth the trouble of looking in the face. Still, what her sweetheart did was disgraceful. Rafaela was brought up weakly,—too carefully guarded; then she began to grow quite happy, what with taking care of her mother and her betrothal. Then her mother died; her father remarried immediately; in a few months it began to be rumoured that her family was on the verge of ruin, and her sweetheart skipped out. Think of it! The poor abandoned girl began to turn yellow, and thought she was going to die. I believe that she owes her cure to the trouble her younger sister gave her.”
“Yes; I understand that she has no faith in men. Probably I ought not to have paid any attention to the fact,” Quentin added ingenuously. “But won’t this Juan de Dios make her suffer?”