lightest vibration seemed the ghost of some long-past sigh or laugh,
to which these walls had resounded ; and to me these vast old rooms
were peopled again by my own vivid imaginings. To walk twice or
thrice around the court-yard and through this interminable array of
rooms, seemed as fatiguing as half a day's tramp.
In one of these perambulations I opened the door of a room into which I had never ventured before. An ancient-looking cupboard stood in one corner, filled with odd remnants of dainty china, vases, bottles, plates, glass, a dilapidated but highly decorated old soup tureen, and some pieces of broken crockery almost half an inch in thickness. Many faded letters were thrown loosely about on shelves and in crevices. A descendant of Mother Eve could do no less than look at the dates. Some were a hundred years old, written in Spain, and the chirography was exceedingly beautiful. One was written in the city of Mexico, by a husband to his wife. He wrote most tenderly to the pretty, young esposa, begging her to be patient until his return, which was to be in the near future.
Hanging upon the wall near the door was a well-executed oil portrait, representing a lovely Spanish face. The graceful pose of the figure attracted my attention, and the luminous, speaking eyes held me spellbound — the same eyes which have so long made Spanish and Mexican women famous in song and story. The patrician nose, the classic brow, the shapely, rosy-lipped mouth, and the perfect hand and arm, completed a picture of unusual beauty. A richly gemmed crown rested upon the dark hair, and in the lower corner of the picture, inside the massive, gilded frame, were the words : "Ana su digna esposa" — "Hannah, your worthy wife."
Carefully removing all dust and cobwebs, I carried my prize to the drawing-room, and hung it over the mantelpiece. I am sure I never passed it without glancing at that perfect face, so sweet and womanly in its expression, and experiencing feelings of mingled reverence and pleasure.
Much diligent inquiry on my part elicited the information that the portrait was of Doña Ana, wife of the Emperor Augustin de Iturbide,
