things
to you. I am afraid you do not understand. Don't be unhappy. Alessandro
will surely be back in four days. I want to help you all I can, but you
saw I could not do much. Nobody will hinder your doing what you please;
but, dear, I wish you would not go away from us!"

Tearing the paper into small fragments, Ramona thrust them into her
bosom, to be destroyed later. Then looking out of the window, and seeing
that the Senora was now in a sound sleep, she ventured to write a reply
to Felipe, though when she would find a safe opportunity to give it to
him, there was no telling. "Thank you, dear Felipe. Don't be anxious. I
am not unhappy. I understand all about it. But I must go away as soon as
Alessandro comes." Hiding this also safe in her bosom, she went back to
the veranda. Felipe rose, and walked toward the steps. Ramona, suddenly
bold, stooped, and laid her note on the second step. Again the tired
eyes of the Senora opened. They had not been shut five minutes; Ramona
was at her work; Felipe was coming up the steps from the garden. He
nodded laughingly to his mother, and laid his finger on his lips. All
was well. The Senora dozed again. Her nap had cost her more than she
would ever know. This one secret interchange between Felipe and Ramona
then, thus making, as it were, common cause with each other as against
her, and in fear of her, was a step never to be recalled,--a step whose
significance could scarcely be overestimated. Tyrants, great and
small, are apt to overlook such possibilities as this; to forget the
momentousness which the most trivial incident may assume when forced
into false proportions and relations. Tyranny can make liars and cheats
out of the honestest souls. It is done oftener than any except close
students of human nature realize. When kings and emperors do this, the
world cries out with sympathy, and holds the plotters more innocent than
the tyrant who provoked the plot. It is Russia that stands branded in
men's thoughts, and not Siberia.

The Senora had a Siberia of her own, and it was there that Ramona was
living in these days. The Senora would have been surprised to know how
little the girl felt the cold. To be sure, it was not as if she had ever
felt warmth in the Senora's presence; yet between the former chill and
this were many degrees, and except for her new life, and new love, and
hope in the thought of Alessandro, Ramona could not have borne it for a
day.

The fourth day came; it s