life."

"I'll be cross-questioned by no one!" replied Inez, springing to
her feet, with flashing eyes, and passionately clinching her small,
jeweled hand.

Mañuel was of a fiery temperament, and one of the many who never pause
to weigh the effect of their words or actions. Seizing her arm in no
gentle manner, he angrily exclaimed,

"A few more weeks, and I'll see whether you indulge every whim, and
play the queen so royally!"

Inez disengaged her arm, every feature quivering with scorn.

"To whom do you speak, Señor Nevarro? You have certainly mistaken me
for one of the miserable peons over whom you claim jurisdiction. Allow
me to undeceive you! I am Inez de Garcia, to whom you shall never
dictate, for I solemnly declare, that from this day the link which has
bound us from childhood is at an end. Mine be the hand to sever it.
From this hour we meet only as cousins! Go seek a more congenial
bride!"

"Hold, Inez! are you mad?"

"No, Mañuel, but candid; for eight years I have known that I was
destined to be your wife, but I never loved you, Mañuel. I do not, and
never can, otherwise than as a cousin."

In a tone of ill-suppressed range, Nevarro retorted: