“If this visit turns out well,” he thought, “how glad I shall be that I came! But if it does not turn out well, my life will be ruined.”
Quentin arose and paced the room for over an hour. He gazed at the Carmen Virgin, with her bead-work shawl, that stood upon the walnut dressing-table; he looked absent-mindedly at the coloured lithographs on the wall, of which some represented scenes from the novel “Matilde, o las Cruzadas,” and others, scenes from “Paul et Virginie.”
“I must speak to Remedios immediately,” he thought.
Having made up his mind, with beating heart he went to look for her. She was sewing in the dining-room.
Quentin seated himself and began to talk on different subjects.
“When are you going to marry?” Quentin suddenly asked her.
“How do I know?” replied Remedios.
“Rafaela told me that you have refused many suitors.”
“You see, they want me to marry a man,” she replied, “because he has money or a title. But I don’t wish to. It makes no difference to me whether he is rich or poor; what I want is for him to be good, for him to have a blind trust in me, as I shall have in him.”