passed through my window to the verandah, and down to the
water, where I bathed, and returning through the garden entered an
arbor and stretched myself on a settee, the better to collect my
thoughts.

"I had been here but a very short time when I heard voices approaching
me, and upon their drawing nearer, I perceived Don Pedro and his
sister engaged in earnest conversation. It was now too late to
retreat, for they were approaching me by the only way I could effect
it, and I was upon the point of going forth to meet them, when they
paused in front of the arbor, and I heard Clara pronounce my name so
musically, that I hope you will not think I did wrong, when told that
I drew back, determined to listen, and thereby to obtain a hint
whereupon to act. Clara leaned upon her brother's arm, who had
evidently been expostulating with her, for his voice was earnest and
reproachful, and Clara's eyes looked as if she had been crying.

"'And yet you say,' continued Pedro, 'that you can love this
gentleman.'

"'Can love him!' cried Clara passionately, 'oh! Pedro, if you only
knew how I do love him!'

"'Why, then, in the name of all that is consistent, did you act so
strangely last night? In your situation an offer from any American
gentleman deserved consideration, to say the least; but Mr. Stewart, a
friend and _protege_ of our uncle's, a refined, educated man, a man
whom you say you love. Clara, I wonder at you! What could have been
the reason?'

"'This, Pedro,' said Clara, looking at the toe of her slipper, which
was drawing figures in the gravel-walk. 'You must know that I did it
to punish him for making love so awkwardly. Now, instead of going down
on his knees, as the saints know I could have done to him, the
cold-blooded fellow went on as frigidly as if he had been buying a
negro, and that too with a moon shining over him which should have
crazed him, and talking to a girl whose heart was full of fiery love
for him. Pedro, my heart was chilled, and so, to punish him, I--'

"'Diablo!' swore Pedro, dropping his sister's arm, and striding off in
a great rage.

"'Oh! stay, brother!' sobbed poor Clara; 'indeed, I could not help it.
Oh, dear!' she continued, as Pedro vanished from her sight, 'now
_he's_ angry. What have I done?' She buried her face in her hands,
entered the arbor, threw herself on the settee, and began sobbing with
convulsive grief. Here was a situation for an unsophisticated youth
like myself. Egad! my he