us, then?"

"I have never forgiven you for letting your Portuguese Virgil die
miserably two hundred years ago."

"You mean Camoens. But the Greeks treated Homer in the same way."

"Yes, but the faults of others are no excuse for our own."

"You are right; but how can you like Camoens so much if you do not know
Portuguese?"

"I have read a translation in Latin hexameters so well done that I
fancied I was reading Virgil."

"Is that truly so?"

"I would never lie to you."

"Then I make a vow to learn Latin."

"That is worthy of you, but it is of me that you must learn the language.
I will go to Portugal and live and die there, if you will give me your
heart.'

"My heart! I have only one, and that is given already. Since I have known
you I have despised myself, for I am afraid I have an inconstant nature."

"It will be enough for me if you will love me as your father, provided I
may sometimes take my daughter to my arms. But go on with your story, the
chief part is yet untold. What became of your lover, and what did your
relations do when they found out your flight?"

"Three days after I arrived in this vast city I wrote to the abbess, my
aunt, and told her the whole story, begging her to protect my lover, and
to confirm me in my resolution never to return to Lisbon till I could do
so in security, and have no obstacles placed in the way of my marriage. I
also begged her to write and inform me of all that happened, addressing
her letters to 'Miss Pauline,' under cover of my landlady.

"I sent my letter by Paris and Madrid, and I had to wait three months
before I got an answer. My aunt told me that the frigate had only
returned a short time, and that the captain immediately on his arrival
wrote to the minister informing him that the only lady who was in his
ship when he sailed was still on board, for he had brought her back with
him, despite the opposition of Count Al----, who declared she was his
wife. The captain ended by asking his excellency for further orders with
respect to the lady aforesaid.

"Oeiras, feeling sure that the lady was myself, told the captain to take
her to the convent of which my aunt was abbess, with a letter he had
written. In this letter he told my aunt that he sent her her niece, and
begged her to keep the girl securely till further orders. My aunt was
extremely surprised, but she would have been still more surprised if she
had not got my letter a few days before. She thanked the c