mbs, then, like a flash,
had cleared the ten feet to the ground in safety. It was a moment of
agony, but he waved his hand to me and disappeared.

"I am loved then," I said to myself, "as never woman was before." And I
fell asleep in the calm content of a child, my destiny for ever fixed.

About two o'clock next day my father summoned me to his private room,
where I found the Duchess and Macumer. There was an interchange of
civilities. I replied quite simply that if my father and M. Henarez were
of one mind, I had no reason to oppose their wishes. Thereupon my mother
invited the Baron to dinner; and after dinner, we all four went for
a drive in the Bois de Boulogne, where I had the pleasure of smiling
ironically to M. de Marsay as he passed on horseback and caught sight of
Macumer sitting opposite to us beside my father.

My bewitching Felipe has had his cards reprinted as follows:

HENAREZ

(Baron de Macumer, formerly Duc de Soria.)

Every morning he brings me with his own hands a splendid bouquet, hidden
in which I never fail to find a letter, containing a Spanish sonnet in
my honor, which he has composed during the night.

Not to make this letter inordinately large, I send you as specimens only
the first and last of these sonnets, which I have translated for your
benefit, word for word, and line for line:--

FIRST SONNET

Many a time I've stood, clad in thin silken vest,
Drawn sword in hand, with steady pulse,
Waiting the charge of a raging bull,
And the thrust of his horn, sharper-pointed than Phoebe's crescent.

I've scaled, on my lips the lilt of an Andalusian dance,
The steep redoubt under a rain of fire;
I've staked my life upon a hazard of the dice
Careless, as though it were a gold doubloon.

My hand would seek the ball out of the cannon's mouth,
But now meseems I grow more timid than a crouching hair,
Or a child spying some ghost in the curtain's folds.

For when your sweet eye rests on me,
Any icy sweat covers my brow, my knees give way,
I tremble, shrink, my courage gone.

SECOND SONNET

Last night I fain would sleep to dream of thee,
But jealous sleep fled my eyelids,
I sought the balcony and looked towards heaven,
Always my glance flies upward when I think of thee.

Strange sight! whose meaning love alone can tell,
The sky had lost its sapphire hue,
The stars, dulled diamonds in their golden mount,
Twinkled no more nor shed their warmth.