Carmen. Then you can pray God that your daughter may not be as deeply in love as my son Julio. Otherwise, your love will mean as little to her as mine does to my son.
Teresa. There is no danger of that; my daughter loves me. Why shouldn't she love her mother? No matter how deeply in love she may be, she appreciates that she has no right to sacrifice me. If Julio has made up his mind that he cannot afford to marry without marching off on reckless adventures, you can be perfectly sure that my daughter will never consent to abandon me.
Carmen. If your daughter feels that way, then it is her duty to say so, because, if she doesn't, my son will continue to believe what he does now.
Teresa. That is why I wanted to talk with you.
Carmen. So that I should be the one to tell him? Ah, Doña Teresa, I made up my mind long ago not to mention this subject again to my son. To be perfectly frank, I trusted rather to the course of events than to the strength of any arguments which I might have been able to bring to bear.
Teresa. I cannot imagine what you mean by such a remark. If anybody has altered her position, it has certainly not been my daughter. Your son never even mentioned his plans.
Carmen. I was entirely satisfied that your daughter would think better of it for some reason or other before she was through. My son's prospects are not brilliant enough for your daughter. She has higher aspirations, if only on account of her looks.
Teresa. I am surprised at the tone of your conversation. You always insisted that this match was a mistake. You have opposed your son far more than I opposed my daughter. I am at a loss to comprehend how you can pretend to
