Scrutiny of Conscience.

Long days followed by weary nights were passed by the pillow of the sick girl. After a confession to Father Salvi, Maria Clara had had a relapse, and in her delirium she pronounced no name but that of her mother, whom she had never known. Her friends, her father, her aunt, watched her, and heaped with gifts and with silver for masses the altars of miraculous images. At last, slowly and regularly, the fever began to abate.

The Doctor de Espadaña was stupefied at the virtues of the syrup of marshmallow and the decoction of lichen, prescriptions he had never varied. Doña Victorina was so satisfied with her husband that one day when he stepped on her train, in a rare state of clemency she did not apply to him the usual penal code by pulling out his teeth.

One afternoon, Sinang and Victorina were with Maria; the curate, Captain Tiago, and the Espadañas were talking in the dining-room.

“I’m distressed to hear it,” the doctor was saying; “and Father Dámaso must be greatly disturbed.”

“Where did you say he is to be sent?” asked Linares.

“Into the province of Tabayas,” replied the curate carelessly.

“Maria Clara will be very sorry too,” said Captain Tiago; “she loves him like a father.”

Father Salvi looked at him from the corner of his eye.

“Father,” continued Captain Tiago, “I believe her sickness came from nothing but that trouble the day of the fête.”

“I am of the same opinion, so you have done well in not permitting Señor Ibarra to talk with her; that would only have aggravated her condition.”

“And it is thanks to us alone,” interrupted Doña Victorina, “that Clarita is not already in heaven singing praises with the angels.”

“Amen!” Captain Tiago felt moved to say.

“I think I know whereof I speak,” said the curate, “when I say that the confession of Maria Clara brought about the favorable crisis that saved her life. I do not deny the power of science, but a pure conscience——”

“Pardon,” objected Doña Victorina, piqued; “then cure the wife of the alférez with a confession!”