n to what I have
now to communicate, for it is in my power to clear up all doubt, all
mystery relative to the honor of our sainted mother, and convince thee
that no stigma, no disgrace attaches itself to thy birth!"

"Alas! my beloved sister," exclaimed the young count, "you speak in a
faint voice, you are very ill! In the name of the Holy Virgin! I conjure
you to allow me to send for Dr. Duras!"

"No, Francisco," said Nisida, her voice recovering somewhat of its power
as she continued to address him: "I implore you to let me have my own
way, to follow my own inclinations! Do not thwart me, Francisco; already
I feel as if molten lead were pouring through my brain, and a tremendous
weight lies upon my heart! Forbear, then, from irritating me, my
well-beloved Francisco----"

"Oh! Nisida," cried the young count, throwing his arms around his
sister's neck and embracing her fondly; "if you love me now, if you ever
loved me, grant me one boon! By the memory of our sainted mother I
implore you, by your affection for her I adjure you, Nisida----"

"Speak, speak, Francisco," interrupted his sister, hastily: "I can
almost divine the nature of the boon you crave--and--my God!" she added,
tears starting from her eyes, as a painful thought flashed across her
brain,--"perhaps I have been too harsh--too severe! At all events, it is
not now--on my death-bed--that I can nurse resentment----"

"Your death-bed!" echoed Francisco, in a tone or acute anguish, while
the sobs which convulsed the bosom of the young countess were heard
alike by him and his sister.

"Yes, dearest brother, I am dying," said Nisida, in a voice of profound
and mournful conviction; "and therefore let me not delay those duties
and those explanations which can alone unburden my heart of the weight
that lies upon it! And first, Francisco, be thy boon granted--for I know
that thou wouldst speak to me of her who is now thy bride. Come to my
arms, then. Flora, embrace me as a sister, and forgive me if thou canst,
for I have been a fierce and unrelenting enemy to thee!"

"Oh, let the past be forgotten, my friend, my sister!" exclaimed the
weeping Flora, as she threw herself into Nisida's outstretched arms.

And the young wife and the young woman embraced each other tenderly--for
deep regrets and pungent remorse at last attuned the mind of Nisida to
sweet and holy sympathy.

"And now," said Nisida, "sit down by my side, and listen to the
explanations which I have