cried the girl, in a burst of sublime
despair.

She lifted her head and in her face was depicted a sudden inspired
strength. Her hair fell in disorder over her shoulders. Never was there
seen a more beautiful image of a rebellious angel.

"What is this? Have you lost your senses?" said Dona Perfecta, laying
both her hands on her daughter's shoulders.

"I am going away, I am going away!" said the girl, with the exaltation
of delirium.

And she sprang out of bed.

"Rosario, Rosario----My daughter! For God's sake, what is this?"

"Ah, mamma, senora!" exclaimed the girl, embracing her mother; "bind me
fast!"

"In truth you would deserve it. What madness is this?"

"Bind me fast! I am going away--I am going away with him!"

Dona Perfecta felt a flood of fire surging from her heart up to her
lips. She controlled herself, however, and answered her daughter only
with her eyes, blacker than the night.

"Mamma, mamma, I hate all that is not he!" exclaimed Rosario. "Hear my
confession, for I wish to confess it to every one, and to you first of
all."

"You are going to kill me; you are killing me!"

"I want to confess it, so that you may pardon me. This weight, this
weight that is pressing me down, will not let me live."

"The weight of a sin! Add to it the malediction of God, and see if you
can carry that burden about with you, wretched girl! Only I can take it
from you."

"No, not you, not you!" cried Rosario, with desperation. "But hear me; I
want to confess it all, all! Afterward, turn me out of this house where
I was born."

"I turn you out!"

"I will go away, then."

"Still less. I will teach you a daughter's duty, which you have
forgotten."

"I will fly, then; he will take me with him!"

"Has he told you to do so? has he counselled you to do that? has he
commanded you to do that?" asked the mother, launching these words like
thunderbolts against her daughter.

"He has counselled me to do it. We have agreed to be married. We must be
married, mamma, dear mamma. I will love you--I know that I ought to love
you--I shall be forever lost if I do not love you."

She wrung her hands, and falling on her knees kissed her mother's feet.

"Rosario, Rosario!" cried Dona Perfecta, in a terrible voice, "rise!"

There was a short pause.

"This man--has he written to you?"

"Yes."

"And have you seen him again since that night?"

"Yes."

"And you have written to him!"

"I have written to him also. Oh,