The four always went together to fulfil their religious duties, the girls in front, the youngest first, and the mother bringing up the rear that she might watch over them all, even with her left eye closed as it usually was. Those who met the little procession, saw first of all Estrella, whose timidity kept her eyes fixed on the ground, and, impressed with the sentimentality and sublimity of her blushing innocence, they looked up to see Doña Luz, full of artlessness and enviable tranquility, showing her face like one who had nothing to fear from malice; and finally, willing or unwilling, were compelled to meet the running fire which darted from the eyes of Doña Sol—eyes that in the street did not look upon you face to face, but slyly as if they did not wish to see. After all these pleasant, fascinating and enchanting visions, they beheld the round sunken eyes of the widow, eyes with pupils like phosphorescent lights in the depths of some cavern, and her big nose with the wart on it. And they would ask themselves if such a horrible looking monster could really have given birth to such beautiful daughters. In spite of all that was said about them, the influence of their charms brought many daring wooers to the street inhabited by Doña Elena, and the sounds of the guitar, and voices filled with deep emotion chanting their sweet love songs, could frequently be heard there, yet no one of these nocturnal troubadours could pride himself upon having noticed the smallest opening of a window or balcony in the dwelling of these bewitching women. It happened, too, that none of these serenades ever ended in bloody affrays, as was frequently the case in those times, and these are our proofs for the assertion that the young ladies never gave rise to any scandal which could injure their reputation. But curiosity is never hindered by obstacles and is perhaps more tenacious than love itself, and so sometimes the lovers and sometimes inquisitive outsiders attempted to bribe the servants of the widow, but succeeded only in learning that there are some servants who are incorruptible. Yet their attempts did not stop there, for the slyest of all found some means of entering into relationship with the only three persons who visited the widow, that is, the Dominican friar, the Knight of Santiago, and the lame, one-eyed captain. But the friar when approached on the subject only said: “It is not permitted to clergymen to speak about their children of the confessional, for this might lead to indiscretions which, however harmless, might become dangerous in the end.” The Knight of Celibacy would answer angrily: “This respectable lady is my friend. I don’t know anything more.” And the veteran, looking askance at the interrogator with his remaining eye, would say, twisting his moustache angrily: “Por Dios Vivo! What I detest most is an inquisitive person.” And all this contributed to the fact that Doña Elena and her daughters were looked upon as mysterious people.