joy: she would make up to him, and punish herself, for having refused,
by waiting till the people were all in the church, and then going in
alone, so that everybody would see her, and Te--filo would see what she
could do for him.

Solemnly the great bell sounded out the summons to prayer. It was a
special day, the Feast of the Immaculate Conception, and all were
expected to come to mass, old and young. The morning was heavy and
airless, and the people, rising from sleepless or restless beds, moved
languidly and in hardly broken silence toward the church, and, entering,
ranged themselves, men and women separately, on either side of the
building, facing the altar. Te--filo was in his usual place, near the
front, and on the margin of the open aisle that divided the sexes. All
had gathered before the bell ceased to sound, but Magdalena was not
there. With a sinking heart Te--filo had watched, hoping against hope
that she would repent and come. He saw Agust'n and Juana come in, and
Agust'n go to the place near the altar which he held as mayordomo, while
Juana merged in the crowd of undistinguished Indian women. So Magdalena
was obstinate, and the prospect of happiness that had looked so bright
yesterday was all over and spoiled. But he must not blame her: she was
not just an Indian, like him. And with a sigh he ceased to watch the
doorway and turned to face the altar.

The Father entered, and bent the knee before the altar in view of the
congregation, who also had knelt on his appearing. The church was in
darkness but for the illumination of candles about the altar and a gray
and sickly daylight that came in at the open door. As the Father turned
to the people there was a stir among the women who had taken places near
the entrance, and a figure appeared, carrying a lighted candle. It was
Magdalena. She walked steadily up the passageway between the men and the