Dona Perfecta felt a flood of fire surging from her heart up to her
lips. She controlled herself, however, and answered her daughter only
with her eyes, blacker than the night.

"Mamma, mamma, I hate all that is not he!" exclaimed Rosario. "Hear my
confession, for I wish to confess it to every one, and to you first of
all."

"You are going to kill me; you are killing me!"

"I want to confess it, so that you may pardon me. This weight, this
weight that is pressing me down, will not let me live."

"The weight of a sin! Add to it the malediction of God, and see if you
can carry that burden about with you, wretched girl! Only I can take it
from you."

"No, not you, not you!" cried Rosario, with desperation. "But hear me; I
want to confess it all, all! Afterward, turn me out of this house where
I was born."

"I turn you out!"

"I will go away, then."

"Still less. I will teach you a daughter's duty, which you have
forgotten."

"I will fly, then; he will take me with him!"