ner the doctor, the notary, and the reverend
vicar, who is a great friend of the house, and the spiritual father of
Pepita.

The reverend vicar must have a very high opinion of the latter, for on
several occasions he spoke to me apart of her charity, of the many alms
she bestows, of her compassion and goodness toward every one. In a word,
he declared her to be a saint.

In view of what the vicar has told me, and relying on his judgment, I
can do no less than wish that my father may marry Pepita. As my father
is not fitted for a life of penance, in this way only could he hope to
change his mode of life, that up to the present has been so dissipated,
and settle down to a well-ordered and quiet, if not exemplary, old age.

When we reached our house, after leaving that of Pepita Ximenez, my
father spoke to me seriously of his projects. He told me that in his
time he had been very wild, that he had led a very bad life, and that he
saw no way of reforming, notwithstanding his years, unless Pepita were
to fall in love with and marry him.

Taking for granted, of course, that she would do so, my father then
spoke to me of business. He told me that he was very rich, and would
leave me amply provided for in his will, even though he should have
other children. I answered him that for my plans and purposes in life I
needed very little money, and that my greatest satisfaction would always
consist in knowing him to be happy with wife and children, his former
evil ways forgotten. My father then spoke to me of his tender hopes with
a candor and vivacity that might make one suppose me to be the father
and the old man, and he a youth of my age, or younger. In order to
enhance the merit of his mistress, and the difficulties of his conquest,
he recounted to me the accomplishments and the excellences of the
fifteen or twenty suitors who had already presented themselves to
Pepita, and who had all been rejected. As for himself, as he explained
to me, the same lot, to a certain extent, had been his also; but he
flattered himself that this want of success was not final, since Pepita
showed him so many kindnesses, and an affection so great that, if it
were not love, it might easily, with time, and the persistent homage he
dedicated to her, be converted into love. There was, besides, in my
father's opinion, a something fantastic and fallacious in the cause of
Pepita's coldness, that must in the end wear away. Pepita did not wish
to retire to a