Don
Felipe's. Like a flash all became clear to him, and he smiled and nodded
as the truth dawned upon him, and he wondered greatly at Chiquita's
discretion. Yet why should he be astonished? Was it not like her?

Chiquita also wondered in turn, and was much perplexed by his attitude,
the quiet, benign expression of his face, when she entered the room
after bidding Juana and Marieta good night. She had expected exactly the
reverse. What did it mean, did he know anything? But she did not stop to
question him. Before unburdening her soul, she must first divest herself
of the jewels which, ever since the terrible scene at the _Posada_, she
felt she had dishonored. Their touch seemed to burn her flesh.

"Padre _mio_," she said quietly, as though nothing unusual had occurred,
"you know I said it would not be necessary to wear these jewels longer
than to-night. I really never should have worn them at all. It was not
right, for, as you see, I am not worthy of them." She began to unclasp
the bracelet on her arm, but hastily putting forth his hand, he checked
her.

"No, my child!" he said, rising from the chair. "You must keep
them--they are yours. Besides, they are so becoming to you! Again I
say--you are the only woman in this world worthy to wear them."

"Padre, Padre _mio_!" she cried, starting backward and gazing full in
his face. "You--you believe in me?"

"How could you have imagined anything else, my child?" he answered
quietly. Without attempting a reply, she threw herself upon his breast,
convulsed with sobs and trembling in every limb, telling him plainer
than words how terribly shaken she had been by the ordeal through which
she had just passed. He did not attempt to soothe or pacify her with
words, knowing how useless it would be, but waited quietly for her
passionate outburst to subside.

"Ah! Padre _mio_, how good you are, and how have I requited you!" she
said at length, looking up at him through her tears and slowly
disengaging herself from his arms. "You know," she continued between
convulsive sobs, and slowly drying her tears, "that little Marieta is
the child of Don Felipe and Pepita Delaguerra." Padre Antonio started at
the mention of the latter's name.

"Pepita Delaguerra?" he repeated. "I felt all along that she was Don
Felipe's child, the resemblance is so striking, and I wonder the others
did not notice it, but I never connected her with Pepita; perhaps
because it is so long since she died. How st