It would soon be dawn, and now she must decide. Then the thought came to
her, should she pray to San Lucas, as Te--filo had been doing? Perhaps
after all he would help them. She got up, and creeping quietly into the
adjoining room, where her father and mother were asleep, she knelt at
the little crucifix that hung on the wall, and tried to pray. But no
words would come, and she was about to rise and go back to her bed when
it seemed as if words were whispered in her ear, echoes carried in the
brain from something she had once heard, no doubt, in the church--". . .
levant-- a los humildes . . . raised up the humble. . ." She had noticed the
words, because they were so averse to her ways of thought: the humble,
why, that was like the Indians whom she had always despised. But, after
all, perhaps that was San Lucas's answer; for she saw that it would
settle all her trouble. Well, be it so she would be humble, if San Lucas
told her; and she would obey the Father, and then, at last, all would be
well.

She rose, and, remembering the hateful candle, went into the quadrangle
and searched for it. There it lay among the chias, and she picked it up
and carried it to her room. Light was dawning in the east, and she did
not lie down again, but stood in her door, making up her mind to the
humiliation she was to undergo for the sake of Te--filo and their love.
She did not waver now; indeed, in her young, strong passion she gloried
in the sacrifice she would make for love's sake. She dressed herself
with care. They ate no meal that day before mass, which was to be at six
in the morning. If only, she thought, she could tell Te--filo that she
had resolved to do the penance, it would make it so much easier; but
there would be no way of seeing him until they were at the service, and
then the men would be on one side and the women on the other; so he
would not know until he saw her, and perhaps he would not look, for she
had said she would not go. Then a thought came to her with delicious