People persisted in their determination to see something mysterious in the family, and that was enough. When the occasion arises, we shall repeat some of the grave and extraordinary things that were said about them, things touching the miraculous and supernatural; but, as no one could affirm that he had actually seen anything, it was all hearsay, and there was reason to suppose that an evil-disposed, hidden and despicable enemy had spread these reports, in order to harm the widow and her daughters with impunity. Many people came to this sensible conclusion, but still there was always some doubt left, and a lack of confidence was justifiable because the _vox populi_ might be right, and it has always been considered better to err on the side of prudence than that of daring. If the enemy was some discarded suitor, who was resolved that no one else should have what he could not obtain, he might well have rejoiced at the success of his scheme, for it was not an easy thing for these three girls to find husbands while such doubts and rumors concerning them were afloat, in spite of the virtues which adorned them. We are not sure how old Doña Elena was, and it was not an easy thing to guess her age, for her looks varied. In the street, dressed in black and wrapped in a cape, with her head bent and eyes fixed on the ground, the only visible part of her face her large nose,—which was shaped like the beak of a bird of prey and adorned with a black and white wart, shaped like a sweet pea, a legacy of her misfortune,—she looked about seventy. But at home, without the cape, with her face held erect, with her abundant black hair which a young girl might have envied, with her energetic movements and sharp, penetrating eyes, one could not have imagined her over sixty. From what we have been saying our readers will suppose that the widow was ugly, and really her ugliness was perfection. She was very tall, with a muscular and somewhat masculine form, a very large mouth, with an overlip covered with a black down that resembled a moustache, with only two large and sharp upper teeth remaining, with two patches of hair on each side of her beard, a narrow furrowed forehead, thick bushy eyebrows, and round sunken eyes. One of these, the left one, she invariably closed when speaking rapidly or looking attentively at any object, while the other then became very expressive, and it was impossible to avoid her penetrating gaze. Her voice was heavy and obscure, sounding, whenever she raised it, like an echo from the distance. Some of her ill-natured detractors had even said that there was reason to doubt the sex of Doña Elena, as she might as easily be a beardless man in disguise as a bearded woman.