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ind myself, se?or, in a position of great hardness between the two admirable ladies, Se?ora Montfort, widow of Don Ricardo, and his beautiful daughter, the Se?orita Margarita. These ladies,

g lady and the se?ora's maid, I was obliged to accept the belief that the se?ora would shortly recover if left to herself, and came away in deep grief, leaving that illustrious matron-I speak with respect-in fits upon the floor. One would have said, a child of six deprived of its toy. Greatly honoured Se?or Montfort, I am a man no longer young. Having myself no conjugal ameliorations, I make no pretence to comprehend the more delicate and complex nature of females. I am cut to the heart; the se?ora scrupled not to address me as "Old Fool." Heaven is my witness that I have endeavoured of my best lights to smoothen the path for her well-born and at present bereaved feet. But what can I do? Neither lady will list

ance of my perfect consi

ent, humbl

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ble Se?or Don

ced by his gentle admonitions. To my face she caressed him, and he responded to her caresses. Don Miguel is an old man, eighty years of age, but nevertheless my anger, my just anger, rose to a height beyond my power of control. I fainted from excess of emotion; I lay as one dead, and no heart stirred of my sufferings. Since then I have been in my bed, with no power more than has a babe of the cradle. This morning Margarita came to me and expressed regret for her conduct, saying that she was willing from now to submit herself to my righteous authori

exalted consideration with which I must ever regard yo

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cion de Nara

hat she had no fear of the Sisters; that in truth she thought they would give her no trouble of any kind. I was ravished with this assurance, having, I may confess it to you, se?or, dreaded the contact between the se?orita and the holy Mother, a woman of incredible force and piety. But I must hasten my narrative. At seven o'clock last evening two volantes were in readiness at the door of the Montfort mansion. The first was driven by the se?ora's own man, the second by Pasquale, a negro devoted since childhood to the se?orita. The se?ora would have placed her daughter in the first of these vehicles; but no! the se?orita sprang lightly into the second volante, followed by her maid, a young person, also tenderly attached to her. Interposing myself to produce calm, I persuade the admirable se?ora to take the position that etiquette commanded, in the first carriage. It is done; I seat myself by her side; procession is made. The way to the convent of the White Sisters, se?or, is a steep and rugged one; on either hand are savage passes, are mountains of precipitation. To conceive what happened, how is it possible? When we reached the convent gate, the second volante was empty. Assassinated with terror, I make demand of Pasquale;

or, the assurance of my cons

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