“My friend, you young people believe that, in placing your fingers over your eyes you blot out the sun for the rest of us. But, we old folks, we see it all! We decompose and analyze; further--what will not a father’s insight and penetration discover? From the beginning of your love for Loreto----” “But, sir, if there has not been----” “Nothing indecorous, no scandal will come from the relations between you--that I know right well; it could not be otherwise in a matter involving a finished gentleman, to whom propriety and nobility of character have descended from both lines, and a young lady who, though it ill becomes me to say it, has been perfectly educated, has read much, and knows how to conduct herself in society. I tell you, friend Leodegario, that for months past no one has needed to whisper in my ear, ‘These young people love each other,’ because the thing was evident and had not escaped me. Accustomed, from my youth, to decomposition and analysis, I have questioned my wife, ‘Do they love each other?’ and she has answered, ‘I believe they do.’ I then inquired, ‘Have you spoken with Loreto about it?’ and she replied, ‘Not a word.’ Days pass and your mutual passion----” “It is my duty, Don Raimundo, to inform you----” “It is your duty to hear me without interrupting me. Days pass and your mutual passion, arrived at its height, enters the crucible of test. You withdraw from Loreto and she pretends not to notice it. Thoughtless people say, ‘They have broken with each other’; but I say, ‘Like sheep they separate for a little, to meet again with the greater joy.’ Others say, ‘The Marquis is fickle and changeable’; but I say, ‘He gives evidence of greater chivalry and nobility than I believed him to possess.’ Friend Leodegario, what do not the eyes of a father discover? What, in the moral as in the physical world, can resist decomposition and analysis? With a little isolation and examination of the elements composing such an affair, the truth is precipitated and shows itself at the bottom of the flask! I know it all; I see it, just as if it were a chemical reaction! You--delicate and honorable to quixotism, knowing that the grocer Ledesma is attentive to Loreto, and considering yourself relatively poor, have said to yourself, ‘I will not stand in the way of the worldly betterment of this young lady,’ and have abruptly left the field. Loreto, in her turn, offended that you should believe her capable of sacrificing you upon the altar of her self-interest, has determined to arouse your jealousy by pretending to accept the attentions which Ledesma offers in the form of raisins, almonds, codfish and cases of wine. I repeat that this is all very plain; but it is a sort of trifling that can not be prolonged without peril, and which I have ended so far as my daughter is concerned. Your future and hers might both suffer from the rash actions of irritated love; no, my dear sir: let Ledesma keep