Don Abrahan paused; his eyes sought the papers on the table, the first of which he lifted, seeming to read beneath. "That is ended, Don Abrahan," Helena said, the tremor of her heart in her words. "It is a heavy thing to speak of lightly, and in haste, as I said last night, my dear. Let us go back a little way, let us reconsider. Do you realize the affront, the humiliation, the insult, you are laying on my son, my house, by this hasty, capricious act?" "There is neither insult nor humiliation intended, sir. I realize that I could not be happy with your son. That is the first consideration. I could not honor him, love him, or even respect him, as a woman should the man she marries." Helena's spirit began to lift, the dread to ease its compression on her bosom. She looked Don Abrahan in the eyes, a flush enlivening her pale cheeks. "In what way has my son forfeited his claim upon your respect, my love?" "I told you last night." "Rumors may easily grow into slanders between here and the capital," Don Abrahan said, in stern reproval. "If we are to credit all our suspicions, believe all we hear, accept every small circumstance as damning evidence, we will soon drive happiness and tranquility out of our lives. Who of us is pure in all things? Who has not transgressed?" "The source of my information cannot be impeached," Helena replied. "If you have called this solemn court to try me, Don Abrahan, you have exceeded any and all authority that I grant to your position and your years. I am free, I am in my right mind. I will not marry Roberto. You cannot force me to it, even with your valiant son guarding the door!" "The small frivolities, the mild indiscretions--all this the world grants a man in his youth, Helena. It is different with a man." "Let it pass; there will be many ready to accept the defense. As for me, I cannot, Don Abrahan." "It is strange that you should come to this conclusion at this late hour, Helena. There was no word of it before the last day of the fiesta." "Two days after I left your house, Don Abrahan, letters came from my friends in the capital. But I doubt, even without the things revealed to me----" "Lies, slanders," said Don Abrahan, disdain in the swelling of his nostrils, the rocking of his head. "Have I not been young? It is the fashion to slander such." "Your son has an able advocate, Don Abrahan," she said, smiling a bit scornfully. "Do we have to go on with the discussion, only to come to nothing in the end?" "It is soon done," Don Abrahan declared with sudden sternness, rising to his feet. "My son stands ready to forget the past, out of his great and honorable love for you." Helena sprang up. "Generous gentleman!" she mocked. "And if I refuse to marry him, the penalty will be publicity, disgrace." [Illustration] "No. A gentleman learns early in life when to keep silent," Don Abrahan returned. "You will reconsider your hasty words?" "No!"