I make a poor-offering to the
cross of Tunasan or to the cross of Matahong?" asks the afflicted
father in a low voice. "The Tunasan cross grows while the Matahong
cross sweats which do you think is more miraculous?"

Aunt Isabel reflects, shakes her head, and murmurs, "To grow, to grow
is a greater miracle than to sweat. All of us sweat, but not all of
us grow."

"That's right, Isabel; but remember that to sweat for the wood of
which bench-legs are made to sweat--is not a small miracle. Come,
the best thing will be to make poor-offerings to both crosses, so
neither will resent it, and Maria will get better sooner. Are the
rooms ready? You know that with the doctors is coming a new gentleman,
a distant relative of Padre Damaso's. Nothing should be lacking."

At the other end of the dining-room are the two cousins, Sinang and
Victoria, who have come to keep the sick girl company. Andeng is
helping them clean a silver tea-set.

"Do you know Dr. Espadana?" the foster-sister of Maria Clara asks
Victoria curiously.

"No," replies the latter, "the only thing that I know about him is
that he charges high, according to Capitan Tiago."

"Then he must be good!" exclaims Andeng. "The one who performed an
operation on Dona Maria charged high; so he was learned."

"Silly!" retorts Sinang. "Every one who charges high is not
learned. Look at Dr. Guevara; after performing a bungling operation
that cost the life of both mother and child, he charged the widower
fifty pesos. The thing to know is how to charge!"

"What do you know about it?" asks her cousin, nudging her.

"Don't I know? The husband, who is a poor sawyer, after losing his
wife had to lose his home also, for the alcalde, being a friend of
the doctor's, made him pay. Don't I know about it, when my father
lent him the money to make the journey to Santa Cruz?" [114]

The sound of a carriage stopping in front of the house put an end
to these conversations. Capitan Tiago, followed by Aunt Isabel, ran
down the steps to welcome the new arrivals: the Doctor Don Tiburcio
de Espadana, his senora the _Doctora_ Dona Victorina de los Reyes
_de_ De Espadana, and a young Spaniard of pleasant countenance and
agreeable aspect.

Dona Victorina was attired in a loose silk gown embroidered with
flowers and a hat with a huge parrot half-crushed between blue and
red ribbons. The dust of the road mingled with the rice-powder on
her cheeks seemed to accentuate her wrinkles. As at the