He did not see the startled, disappointed look in Juana's face as he settled himself again to his book with an air that said he was not to be further disturbed. Paul's word, ordinarily, was law to Juana, but in this case she was not satisfied. She could not believe there was no God. She knew there must be one, and that not by reasoning it out. A greater than human reason had taught her. If now she could but find out about Him! She had not looked into a Spanish Bible since she was a very little child, but she could not go to that for help. She distrusted everything that the Church of Rome had to do with. "But if a Spanish Bible tells Catholics about their religion, why should not an English Bible teach the Protestant religion?" she reasoned. She resolved to have one, if possible, and when Juana resolved, her strong will left no stone unturned toward accomplishment. A day or two after, as her husband was making preparations for another journey, Juana preferred her request: "There is one thing I do much want. Will you not please get it for me, dear Paul, before you go? I do so want it! And that is an English Bible." "Pray, what in the world would you do with that?" Paul asked, in much astonishment. "You cannot read English." "Ah! Shall I not read it soon if I study much? I can try to read the stories in it, and it will help make the time to fly, so you will soon come back to me," she added coaxingly. Paul was willing enough that other people should have what they wanted if it did not interfere with his pleasure. So as he went about attending to various purchases for himself, he remembered Juana's request, and was at not a little pains to obtain for her a copy of the Bible. "Every one to his taste," he remarked to himself as he looked it over. "I think I could find fables that would prove more entertaining to me than this one." During her husband's stay at home Juana had much of the time been carrying on an inward struggle. She had endeavored to quiet her unrest by plunging into reckless dissipation, but the still small voice followed her even to the midnight revel. And often, when she had filled all her waking hours with busy trifles—purposely to crowd out these intrusive thoughts—she would wake as by a flash, her spirit filled with a strange dread, and then, in the still solemn hour the eternal would speak to the mortal, who, shrinking away in conscious guilt, felt that there were just two things in the universe; herself, and an awful presence who searched her through.