d be more observant for having
had it; her resuscitated affection far her young mistress was not yet
so strong that it would resist the assaults of jealousy, if that passion
were to be again aroused in her fiery soul. Though she had never been
deeply in love with Alessandro herself, she had been enough so, and
she remembered him vividly enough, to feel yet a sharp emotion of
displeasure at the recollection of his devotion to the Senorita. Now
that the Senorita seemed to be deserted, unhappy, prostrated, she had no
room for anything but pity for her; but let Alessandro come on the stage
again, and all would be changed. The old hostility would return. It was
but a dubious sort of ally, after all, that Ramona had so unexpectedly
secured in Margarita. She might prove the sharpest of broken reeds.

It was sunset of the eighteenth day since Alessandro's departure. Ramona
had lain for four days well-nigh motionless on her bed. She herself
began to think she must be going to die. Her mind seemed to be vacant of
all thought. She did not even sorrow for Alessandro's death; she seemed
torpid, body and soul. Such prostrations as these are Nature's enforced
rests. It is often only by help of them that our bodies tide over
crises, strains, in which, if we continued to battle, we should be
slain.

As Ramona lay half unconscious,--neither awake nor yet asleep,--on this
evening, she was suddenly aware of a vivid impression produced upon her;
it was not sound, it was not sight. She was alone; the house was still
as death; the warm September twilight silence reigned outside, She sat
up in her bed, intent--half alarmed--half glad--bewildered--alive. What
had happened? Still there was no sound, no stir. The twilight was fast
deepening; not a breath of air moving. Gradually her bewildered senses
and faculties awoke from their long-dormant condition; she looked around
the room; even the walls seemed revivified; she clasped her hands, and
leaped from the bed. "Alessandro is not dead!" she said aloud; and she
laughed hysterically. "He is not dead!" she repeated. "He is not dead!
He is somewhere near!"

With quivering hands she dressed, and stole out of the house. After
the first few seconds she found herself strangely strong; she did not
tremble; her feet trod firm on the ground. "Oh, miracle!" she thought,
as she hastened down the garden-walk; "I am well again! Alessandro is
near!" So vivid was the impression, that when she reached the willo