k,
but s-she c-can be c-cured." Dona Victorina looked proudly at the
bystanders.

"Lichen with milk in the morning, syrup of marshmallow, two cynoglossum
pills!" ordered De Espadana.

"Cheer up, Clarita!" said Dona Victorina, going up to her. "We've
come to cure you. I want to introduce our cousin."

Linares was so absorbed in the contemplation of those eloquent eyes,
which seemed to be searching for some one, that he did not hear Dona
Victorina name him.

"Senor Linares," said the curate, calling him out of his abstraction,
"here comes Padre Damaso."

It was indeed Padre Damaso, but pale and rather sad. On leaving his
bed his first visit was for Maria Clara. Nor was it the Padre Damaso
of former times, hearty and self-confident; now he moved silently
and with some hesitation.

CHAPTER XLIII

Plans

Without heeding any of the bystanders, Padre Damaso went directly
to the bed of the sick girl and taking her hand said to her with
ineffable tenderness, while tears sprang into his eyes, "Maria,
my daughter, you mustn't die!"

The sick girl opened her eyes and stared at him with a strange
expression. No one who knew the Franciscan had suspected in him such
tender feelings, no one had believed that under his rude and rough
exterior there might beat a heart. Unable to go on, he withdrew from
the girl's side, weeping like a child, and went outside under the
favorite vines of Maria Clara's balcony to give free rein to his grief.

"How he loves his goddaughter!" thought all present, while Fray Salvi
gazed at him motionlessly and in silence, lightly gnawing his lips
the while.

When he had become somewhat calm again Dona Victorina introduced
Linares, who approached him respectfully. Fray Damaso silently looked
him over from head to foot, took the letter offered and read it,
but apparently without understanding, for he asked, "And who are you?"

"Alfonso Linares, the godson of your brother-in-law," stammered the
young man.

Padre Damaso threw back his body and looked the youth over again
carefully. Then his features lighted up and he arose. "So you are the
godson of Carlicos!" he exclaimed. "Come and let me embrace you! I
got your letter several days ago. So it's you! I didn't recognize
you,--which is easily explained, for you weren't born when I left the
country,--I didn't recognize you!" Padre Damaso squeezed his robust
arms about the young man, who became very red, whether from modesty
or lack of brea