c which they might cause in his
wife's sensitive and tender soul. He sat down by his table, opened a
book, and began to read: but he could not regain his calmness; at the
end of a few minutes his conscience began to prick him; the letters
blurred before his eyes so that he could not make out a sentence. He
closed the book, got up, and returned to the parlor with an earnest
desire for reconciliation.

Maximina was no longer there.

He went to the library and her sleeping-room, but failed to find her; he
went to the dining-room and the inner apartments; still no Maximina. He
asked the servants, but they could give no tidings about her. Then
imagining that in her grief she had gone to hide somewhere, he began a
regular search; but as he was passing near the stairway door, he paused
anxious and dumfounded, with consternation painted on his face:--

"Have any of you opened the door?"

"No, senorito; we have not moved from here."

Pale as death, he snatched his hat that was hanging on the rack, and
leaped down the stairs, which were still lighted. He found the janitor
just in the act of putting out the lights.

"Remigio, have you seen my wife go out?"

The janitor, the janitor's wife and mother-in-law looked at him in
amazement. Perceiving the imprudence of such a question, he added:--

"I don't know but what she may have gone home with my mother and sister.
Mother felt ill, and my wife did not want to let her go...."

"Senorito, we cannot tell you anything with certainty. Many ladies went
out ... we could not distinguish."

"Just a few minutes ago," said a six-year-old girl, "I saw a lady go out
alone...."

"We have been to the court to carry a few flower-pots from the
stairway," explained the janitor's wife.

Miguel, without any further words, darted out of the door.

"Senorito, are you going out that way? You will surely get your death
a-cold!"

In fact, he was in his dress-suit. Stopping, and making a great effort
to appear calm, he replied:--

"That is a fact; do me the goodness to run up and get my overcoat."

When they brought it to him, he said, as he put it on:--

"Thank you much. Please not lock up until I come; I shall not be long."

"Don't trouble yourself, senorito; we will wait for you."

As soon as he was in the street, he knew not whither to direct his
steps; his heart beat violently; he was so anxious that his clearness of
mind entirely deserted him.

After hesitating a few moments, h