“‘Can you?’ said the traveller, not at all displeased at her boldness.
“‘That can I,’ continued Tia Trinidad, earnestly; ‘and there isn’t a girl to match her in Madrid, and the Padre Cura will bear me out!’
“‘What ... Pura, you mean ... I suppose?’ said the Cura, somewhat embarrassed between his desire to speak the truth, and his fear of crushing the—as it seemed to him—exaggerated ideas of his poor parishioner. ‘Yes, Pura is a good girl enough;’ and he paused to think how much he could say in her favour; ‘young, and—pretty, and—simple, and—lively, and—notable altogether, but——’
“‘Well,’ interrupted the traveller, hastily, ‘out with your but! for you have named the very qualities which go to make up my ideal of a wife; speak, hombre[6]!’
“‘Well, I mean—I mean, only that she is a little—a little—what shall I say?—a little homely for your wife——’
“‘Homely, is it? Oh! if that’s all, we sha’n’t quarrel. I don’t want any of your fine ladies who are only thinking of setting themselves off, and attend to nothing but their toilet! Come, good woman, ask your young friend to allow me to come and see her to-morrow.’
“Too overjoyed to answer, Tia Trinidad set off on the instant at full speed, and ran so fast you could not have told what her gown was made of as she passed. When she reached home, out of breath, she told her niece to adorn the house, and dress herself in her best, for she expected a visitor next morning.
“Pura—who, though now seventeen, still kept up her simple habit of doing whatever she was bid with alacrity—fulfilled the directions given her with great exactness and success, and never thought of asking who or what the visitor was, or what business brought him.
“When the traveller called next morning, and found the room so smiling, the sunbeams playing through the muslin blinds upon the snow-white curtains, the brightly-tinted flowers—which, by the way, the sprites had painted on purpose—so tastefully arranged, and Pura herself looking so neat, and with no thought of display in her head, he was delighted, and left with an air of satisfaction, which convinced Tia Trinidad that all was going on right. Only, as he was going away, he turned and asked Tia Trinidad if Pura could make lace; and Tia Trinidad, who deemed her niece such a pearl that there was nothing she could not do, without thinking, answered “Yes.” Nevertheless, poor Pura had had too much labour with the garden and the house-work all her young life to have had leisure for indoor occupation. She could take a turn, indeed, at her aunt’s spinning-wheel; but such an accomplishment as making lace she had never practised.
“‘Why did you tell the gentleman I knew how to make lace, when I don’t, aunt?’ she exclaimed, for she could not bear an untruth about the least matter.