a _fandango_. Two gypsies, a man and a woman, both famous
singers, sang verses of a tender character and appropriate to the
occasion; and the school-master read epithalamium in heroic verse.

There were tarts, fritters, jumbles, ginger-bread, sponge-cake, and wine
in abundance for the common people. The gentry regaled themselves selves
with liquors, chocolate, orange cordial, honey, and various kinds of
aromatic and delicate punches.

Don Pedro was like a boy--sprightly, gallant, and full of jests. It did
not look as if there were much truth in what he had said in his letter
to the dean in regard to his rheumatism and other ailments. He danced
the _fandango_ with Pepita, as also with the most attractive among her
maids and with six or seven of the village girls. He gave each of them,
on reconducting her, tired out, to her seat, the prescribed embrace, and
to the least serious of them a couple of pinches, though this latter
forms no part of the ceremonial. He carried his gallantry to the extreme
of dancing with Dona Casilda, who could not refuse him; who, with her
two hundred and fifty pounds of humanity, and the heat of July,
perspired at every pore. Finally, Don Pedro stuffed Currito so full, and
made him drink so often to the health of the newly married pair, that
the muleteer Dientes was obliged to carry him home to sleep off the
effect of his excesses, slung like a skin of wine across the back of an
ass!

The ball lasted until three in the morning; but the young couple
discreetly disappeared before eleven, and retired to the house of
Pepita. There Don Luis re-entered, with light, pomp, and majesty, and as
adored lord and master, the room which, little more than a month before,
he had entered in darkness, and filled with terror and confusion.

Although it is the unfailing use and custom of the village to treat
every widow or widower who marries again to a terrible _charivari_,
leaving them not a moment's rest from the cow-bells during the first
night after marriage, Pepita was such a favorite, Don Pedro was so much
respected, and Don Luis was so beloved, that there were no bells on this
occasion, nor was there the least attempt made at ringing them--a
singular circumstance, which is recorded as such in the annals of the
village.

EPILOGUE.

LETTERS OF MY BROTHER

The history of Pepita and Luisito should, properly speaking, end here.
This epilogue is not necessary to the story; but, as it formed part o