in a spider's processes when, withdrawing a little way from a half-entangled victim, which still supposes himself free, it rests from its weaving, and watches the victim flutter. Subtle questions like these, assuming, taking for granted as settled, much which had never been settled at all, were among the best weapons in the Señora's armory. They rarely failed her.
“Advise!” cried Felipe, excitedly. “Advise! This is what I advise—to let Ramona and Alessandro marry. I can't help all you say about our obligations. I dare say you're right; and it's a cursedly awkward complication for us, anyhow, the way you put it.”
“Yes, awkward for you, as the head of our house,” interrupted the Señora, sighing. “I don't quite see how you would face it.”
“Well, I don't propose to face it,” continued Felipe, testily. “I don't propose to have anything to do with it, from first to last. Let her go away with him, if she wants to.”
“Without our consent?” said the Señora, gently.
“Yes, without it, if she can't go with it; and I don't see, as you have stated it, how we could exactly take any responsibility about marrying her to Alessandro. But for heaven's sake, mother, let her go! She will go, any way. You haven't the least idea how she loves Alessandro, or how he loves her. Let her go!”
“Do you really think she would run away with him, if it came to that?” asked the Señora, earnestly. “Run away and marry him, spite of our refusing to consent to the marriage?”
“I do,” said Felipe.
“Then it is your opinion, is it, that the only thing left for us to do, is to wash our hands of it altogether, and leave her free to do what she pleases?”
“That's just what I do think, mother,” replied
