sity, clasped his
right hand and placed it on the crucifix which hung on her rosary.

Then she commanded her astonished friend to swear to guard this secret,
which was not hers alone, from every living being.

Wolf yielded without resistance to her passionate entreaties, but
scarcely had he lowered the hand uplifted to take the oath than he urged
her at least to grant him permission to restore Dona Magdalena's peace of
mind; but Barbara waved her hand with resolute denial, hastily
exclaiming: "No, no, no! Don Luis was the tool in every blow which
Charles, his master, dealt at my happiness and peace. Let the woman who
is dear to him, and who is already winning by her gifts the child's love,
which belongs to me, and to me alone, now feel how the heart of one who
is deceived can ache."

Here, deeply wounded, Wolf burst into a complaint of the harshness and
injustice of such vengeance; but Barbara insisted so defiantly upon her
will that he urged her no further, and seized his hat to retire.

Deep resentment had taken possession of him. This misguided woman,
embittered by misfortune, possessed the power of rendering the greatest
benefit to one infinitely her superior in nobility of soul, and with
cruel defiance she refused it.

His whole heart was full of gratitude and love for Dona Magdalena, who by
her unvarying kindness and elevating example had healed his wounded soul,
and no ignoble wish had sullied this great and deep affection. Although
for years he had devoted to her all the ability and good will which he
possessed, he still felt deeply in her debt and, now that the first
opportunity of rendering her a great service presented itself, he was
deprived of the possibility of doing it by the woman who had already
destroyed the happiness of his youth.

So bitter was the resentment which filled his soul that he could not
bring himself to seek her on the following day; but she awaited him with
the sorrowful fear that she had saddened the return of her best and
truest friend. Besides, she was now beginning to be tortured by the
consciousness of having broken or badly fulfilled the vow by which she
had won from the Holy Virgin the life of her sick Conrad. Why had she
sent her boys away the day before, instead of showing them to the friend
of her youth with maternal joy? because her heart had been full of the
image of the other, whose rare beauty and patrician bearing Wolf had so
enthusiastically described. True, her pai