On this first evening Montefiore forced himself to be as respectful as
he was tender. With that intention, in the interests of his passion
and the desires with which Juana inspired him, he was caressing and
unctuous in language; he launched the young creature into plans for a
new existence, described to her the world under glowing colors, talked
to her of household details always attractive to the mind of girls,
giving her a sense of the rights and realities of love. Then, having
agreed upon the hour for their future nocturnal interviews, he left
her happy, but changed; the pure and pious Juana existed no longer; in
the last glance she gave him, in the pretty movement by which she
brought her forehead to his lips, there was already more of passion
than a girl should feel. Solitude, weariness of employments contrary
to her nature had brought this about. To make the daughter of the
Maranas truly virtuous, she ought to have been habituated, little by
little, to the world, or else to have been wholly withdrawn from it.

"The day, to-morrow, will seem very long to me," she said, receiving
his kisses on her forehead. "But stay in the salon, and speak loud,
that I may hear your voice; it fills my soul."

Montefiore, clever enough to imagine the girl's life, was all the more
satisfied with himself for restraining his desires because he saw that
it would lead to his greater contentment. He returned to his room
without accident.

Ten days went by without any event occurring to trouble the peace and
solitude of the house. Montefiore employed his Italian cajolery on old
Perez, on Dona Lagounia, on the apprentice, even on the cook, and they
all liked him; but, in spite of the confidence he now inspired in