"
"My husband told me--"
"Saints of God! you have no husband. He has forfeited every
right to advise you. Consider that, daughter; and if you
trust not my advice, there is yet living your honorable uncle,
the Marquis de Gonzaga."
Antonia caught eagerly at this suggestion. It at least
offered some delay, in which the Senora might be strengthened
to resist the coercion of Fray Ignatius.
"Mother, it is a good thought. My great-uncle will tell you
what to do; and my father will not blame you for following his
advice. Perhaps even he may offer his home. You are the
child of his sister."
Fray Ignatius walked towards the fire-place and stood rubbing
slowly his long, thin hands before the blaze, while the Senora
and her daughters discussed this proposal. The half-frantic
mother was little inclined to make any further effort to
resist the determined will of her old confessor; but the tears
of Isabel won from her a promise to see her uncle.
"Then, my daughter, lose no time. I cannot promise you
many days in which choice will be left you. Go this
afternoon, and to-morrow I will call for your decision."
It was not a visit that the Senora liked to make. She had
deeply offended her uncle by her marriage, and their
intercourse had since been of the most ceremonious and
infrequent kind. But surely, at this hour, when she was left
without any one to advise her steps, he would remember the tie
of blood between them.
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