."

Maria Clara rested a moment and then continued:

"You have doubted me; you have wished my mother to pardon me. During
one of those nights of suffering, a man revealed to me the name of
my true father, and forbade me to love you ... unless my true father
should pardon you for the offense you committed against him."

Ibarra recoiled and looked in terror at the maiden.

"Yes," she continued. "This man told me that he could not permit our
marriage, since his conscience would not allow it, and he would find
himself compelled to publish the truth at the risk of causing a great
scandal, because my father is ..."

And she whispered a name in the young man's ear in a scarcely audible
voice.

"What was I to do? Ought I to sacrifice to my love the memory of
my mother, the honor of the man who innocently supposes himself my
father, and the good name of my real father? Could I do that without
you despising me for it?"

"But the proof? Have you proof? You need proof!" exclaimed Crisostomo,
deeply agitated.

The maiden drew two letters from her bosom.

"Two of my mother's letters: two letters written in remorse before
I was born. Take them, read them and you will see how she cursed
me and desired my death, which my father in vain tried to cause by
drugs. These letters were forgotten in the house where he lived;
a man found them and kept them. They would only give them to me in
exchange for your letter ... to make certain, as they said, that I
would not marry you without the consent of my father. From the time
that I began to carry them in my bosom instead of your letter, my
heart was chilled. I sacrificed you, I sacrificed my love.... What
would not a person do for a dead mother and two living fathers? Did
I suspect the use to which they were going to put your letter?"

Ibarra was prostrated. Maria Clara went on:

"What was there left for me? Could I tell you who was my father? Could
I ask you to seek the pardon of him who had so much desired my death,
and who made your father suffer? There was nothing left for me but to
keep the secret to myself, and to die suffering.... Now, my friend,
you know the sad history of your poor Maria. Will you still have that
contemptuous smile for her?"

"Maria, you are a saint."

"I am happy now that you believe me."

"However," added the young man, changing his tone. "I have heard that
you are about to marry."

"Yes," sobbed the maiden. "My father asked this sacrifice of me. He