d. He who does not
know this must necessarily judge things as you judge them--foolishly.
In the tempest, for instance, he sees only destruction; in the
conflagration, ruin; in the drought, famine; in the earthquake,
desolation; and yet, arrogant young man, in all those apparent
calamities we are to seek the good intentions--yes, senor, the
intention, always good, of Him who can do nothing evil."

This confused, subtle, and mystic logic did not convince Pepe Rey; but
he did not wish to follow his aunt in the tortuous path of such a method
of reasoning, and he said simply:

"Well, I respect intentions."

"Now that you seem to recognize your error," continued the pious lady,
with ever-increasing confidence, "I will make another confession to you,
and that is that I see now that I did wrong in adopting the course
I did, although my object was excellent. In view of your impetuous
disposition, in view of your incapacity to comprehend me, I should have
faced the situation boldly and said to you, 'Nephew, I do not wish that
you should be my daughter's husband.'"

"That is the language you should have used to me from the beginning,"
said the engineer, drawing a deep breath, as if his mind had been
relieved from an enormous weight. "I am greatly obliged to you for those
words. After having been stabbed in the dark, this blow on the face in
the light of day is a great satisfaction to me."

"Well, I will repeat the blow, nephew," declared Dona Perfecta, with as
much energy as displeasure. "You know it now--I do not wish you to marry
Rosario!"

Pepe was silent. There was a long pause, during which the two regarded
each other attentively, as if the face of each was for the other the
most perfect work of art.

"Don't you understand what I have said to you?" she repeated. "That
every thing is at an end, that there is to be no marriage."

"Permit me, dear aunt," said the young man, with composure, "not to be
terrified by the intimation. In the state at which things have arrived
your refusal has little importance for me."

"What are you saying?" cried Dona Perfecta violently.

"What you hear. I will marry Rosario!"

Dona Perfecta rose to her feet, indignant, majestic, terrible. Her
attitude was that of anathema incarnated in a woman. Rey remained
seated, serene, courageous, with the passive courage of a profound
conviction and an immovable resolve. The whole weight of his aunt's
wrath, threatening to overwhelm him, did not