him, he will then love me; he will cherish my
image in his memory, my love in his heart; and God, who is so good, will
permit me to see him again in heaven with the eyes of the soul, and will
let our spirits mingle together and love each other there."

Antonona, although of a rugged nature, and not at all sentimental, on
hearing these words felt the tears start to her eyes.

"Good gracious, child!" she said; "do you want to make me take out my
handkerchief and begin to bellow like a calf? Calm yourself, and don't
talk about dying, even in jest. I can see that your nerves are very much
excited. Shan't I bring you a cup of linden tea?"

"No, thanks; leave me; you see how calm I am now."

"I shall close the window, then, to see if you can sleep. How should you
feel well, when you have not slept for days? The devil take that same
Don Luis, with his fancy for making himself a priest! A nice price you
are paying for it!"

Pepita had closed her eyes; she was calm and silent, weary now of her
colloquy with Antonona.

The latter, either thinking she was asleep, or hoping her to be so, bent
over Pepita, imprinted a kiss softly and slowly on her white forehead,
smoothed oat the folds of her dress, arranged the windows so as to leave
the room in semi-obscurity, and went out on tiptoe, closing the door
behind her without making the slightest noise.

* * * * *

While these things were taking place at the house of Pepita, Don Luis de
Vargas in his was neither happier nor more tranquil than was she
herself.

His father, who scarcely let a day pass without riding out into the
country, had to-day wished to take Don Luis with him; but, with the
pretext of a headache, he had excused himself, and Don Pedro had gone
without him. Don Luis had spent the whole morning alone, delivered up to
his melancholy thoughts, and continuing firm as a rock in his resolution
of blotting from his soul the image of Pepita, and of consecrating
himself wholly to God.

Let it not be supposed, however, that he did not love the young widow.
We have already, in his letters, seen the proof of the vehemence of his
passion for her, but he continued his efforts to curb it by means of the
devout sentiments and elevated reflections of which he has given us in
his letters so extended a specimen, and of which we may here omit a
repetition, in order not to appear prolix.

Perhaps, if we examine into this matter closely, we shall f