were very fond of each other, but her mind and mine were never alike. We rarely agreed, and if I said nay she said yea. Consequently I don't know what you mean."
Ernestina shrugged her shoulders with disdain, for her own father did not understand her.
"Come," said he, "explain yourself."
"I am in love," said she, resolutely.
"Are you sure of it?" inquired her father.
"Oh yes! If you take me away from him I shall die."
Her father rubbed his forehead and pushed back his smoking-cap, looking quite perplexed.
"So you are in love; does he love you also?"
"Madly," she replied.
"How long since, my child?"
"For a very long time, a very long time. Yes, we loved each other. before we ever met."
"Who is he?"
"A young man," replied Ernestina.
"I presume that you have not fallen in love with an old man. What is his name?"
"What difference does it make?" exclaimed Ernestina. "We love each other and only death can separate us. Shut me up in a convent, take me to the farthest end of the world, and I shall still love him. My soul will fly away to seek his, and the breeze will bring his sighs to me; the light of day his glances; and I shall read his vows in the stars at nightfall. I shall never belong to any other man, You are my father, but you ought not to prove a tyrant."
"No, my young lady," replied Señor Albamonte, "and there is no need of so many words
