While these thoughts were passing through her mind, the bell rang, and the voice of Rogelio, who had just returned from college, was heard in the hall. Esclavita’s cheeks grew redder than they were before, and she made an involuntary movement as if to run away and hide herself. “Ta, ta!” said Señora Pardiñas to herself, a sudden thought flashing across her mind, “I noticed that the lad seemed to have something against this girl. He speaks to her so coldly, which is unusual with him. That must be it. The poor girl is dejected because she sees that she has not fallen into the boy’s good graces. I must set this matter right. It is plain that Esclavita is too sensitive and when she fancies that she is not liked----” She resumed aloud, “Well, child, if you are dissatisfied----”
“I am not dissatisfied; no, Señora,” answered Esclavita, respectfully and not without firmness, “unless others are dissatisfied with me. I am perfectly contented; it would be a pity if I was not. But others----”
“What has put that idea into your head?” said her mistress, looking at her fixedly. “Have I ever found fault with you since you came into the house?”
“No, Señora, you are very kind. I am not complaining of anybody,” responded the girl. “I am only afraid--well, that I may not give satisfaction. If I did not give satisfaction I would rather not stay. Unless people were satisfied with me I would rather be in purgatory--or worse.”
“Hold your tongue, silly girl, hold your tongue,” said her mistress reprovingly. “Of course you give satisfaction. Go to your mending. If I hear any more of this nonsense, you shall see.”
As soon as a favorable opportunity presented itself Doña Aurora took her son to task. “I am convinced,” she said, “that the secret cause of all Esclavita’s dejection is your manner toward her. You speak to Fausta in a different way; you may not be aware of it, but with Fausta you are always jesting or disputing, and with the other one you are always serious and formal; she fancies you do not like her, that she does not give satisfaction, as she says. I assure you that the poor girl is greatly distressed and that she is capable of worrying herself into a sickness about it. These nervous girls are ticklish creatures to deal with. And apart from that, on account of her--the rector, eh?--the girl gets more and more sensitive every day. On my word I pity her. If I were you I would speak to her--well--with more kindness.”