“Son,” said he to Lucas, who had waited for him in his house, “it was lost labor, as I foretold. But go, now, and mind what I say. Submit to what can’t be helped, and don’t be stiff-necked, for you’ll surely come out loser. The rope breaks where it is slenderest. You are his son, and the authority belongs to him. You will only be kicking against the goad.” Lucas went back to the country and to work with a heavy heart. When he returned home on the following Saturday, he learned that the bans of his father’s marriage were to be published the next morning for the first time. Grief made him desperate, and he resolved, as a last recourse, to speak himself. We have already hinted at the cool and formal relation that existed between these two--thanks to the neglect the abandoned man had shown his children. For some time past, the excellent character of Lucas and the good name it had gained him had inspired Juan Garcia with that bitter sentiment which rises in the heart of a man who possesses the legal and material superiority, against the subordinate to whom he feels himself morally inferior--a sentiment of hostility that is apt to manifest itself in despotism. “Sir,” said the son, speaking with firm moderation, “they have been telling me that you are going to marry.” “They have been telling you what is quite true.” “I hoped that it was not true.” “And why? if I might ask.” “On account of the woman they say you are going to have.” “She is not, then, to your taste; and you think, perhaps, that I ought to have advised with you?” “No, sir, not with me--I am of small account; but with some one that has more knowledge and judgment than I.” “So, then, it appears to you,” said Juan, with repressed ire, “that your father needs counsel?” “Yes, sir,” answered Lucas calmly, “when he has a young daughter, and is going to give her a step-mother.” “For fear he might give her one that would eat her up, like the 55 _Cancon_?”[9] “No, sir, no; we understand now that people are not swallowed like sugared anises.” “Or make her work, being herself industrious, and not willing to sit hand upon hand like a notary’s wife?” “It is not that, sir; Lucia is not afraid of work. She knows that work is the honor of the poor.” “Or, perhaps, keep her at home like a chained dog?” “No, sir; I am not thinking of that; for my sister, though brought up without a mother, is modest, and not a girl to be seen at the street door or with a hole in her stocking. She is used to the shade, but--” “But what? Have done!” “That which this woman will give her is evil, and may be her ruin.” Juan Garcia, who had with difficulty restrained himself, rushed upon his son, as the latter uttered these words, with his hand uplifted to strike. Lucas, perceiving the action, quickly inclined his head, and received upon it the blow that had been aimed at his face.