mind. Well, let us forget each other. There is no need for further explanations. Very well. Our love is shipwrecked, like my uncle's treasures. Let us have patience to bear it all. I found out today that he was bringing me a fabulous amount—the sum of three millions!
"Affectionately,
"Mariana."
When Simon finished reading this letter he was beside himself with rage. He threw it into the fire, and while the flames consumed it, in the ashes he saw the fantastic shape—13. He started back with fear, for it seemed to dart out in every direction, from the wall, from the carpet, and dance all over the room. Finally he closed his eyes and fell back crying: "That fatal number will be the death of me!"
In 1833 the press had not yet acquired great power, and public opinion stumbled at every step like a child beginning to walk. At that time family events took place unchronicled and the daily journals did not enjoy the privilege of proclaiming them to the world. People were allowed to be born, get married, and die unnoticed.
Thus it occurred that an approaching marriage of a beautiful girl was kept quiet, and was only known to her immediate circle of friends. Yes, Ernestina Albamonte was going to get married. She was tall, fair, pale, with a melancholy countenance; had blue eyes and a sad smile; and her brow was crowned with long flaxen curls, while she was the beau-idéal of a heroine of that romantic poetic school, almost
