When Malia came with the garments she told her
to follow, and went into Elena's room and stood beside the bed.
"Get up," she said. "Dress thyself in thy bridal clothes. Thou art going
to marry Dario Castanares to-day."
The girl looked up incredulously, then closed her eyes wearily.
"Get up," said her mother. "The doctor has said that we must let our
daughter marry the half-breed or answer to God for her murder." She
turned to the maid: "Malia, go downstairs and make a cup of chocolate
and bring it up. Bring, too, a glass of angelica."
But Elena needed neither. She forgot her desire for death, her
misgivings of the future; she slipped out of bed, and would have taken a
pair of silk stockings from the chest, but her mother stopped her with
an imperious gesture, and handed her the coarse shoes and stockings the
maid had brought. Elena raised her eyes wonderingly, but drew them
on her tender feet without complaint. Then her mother gave her the
shapeless undergarments, the gaudy calico frock, and she put them on.
When the maid returned with the chocolate and wine, she drank both.
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