blind."

"Then why not go at once to Santa Clara? It is your only hope. Why not
go to-morrow?" I asked, as I took her hand in mine.

"That cannot be; I am not able, nor is Aunt Ambrosia, to allow of the
expense. I must be content to see while I may, and then live on with the
remembrance of your kind faces ever before me."

"Ysidria, do not despond; let me help you; it has been my dream for the
past year. Will you be my wife?"

I caught her in my arms, for she seemed as if about to fall.

"Ah, Carlos, I am too happy," she murmured. "I love you, but I cannot be
your wife with my infirmity. No, I cannot be so selfish; I will not put
upon you a burden. I love you, but let us live as we do now, for you
must never tire of me and still feel bound to me for life. I shall be
blind. I love you too well."

"Ysidria, I love you for your own dear self. Nor fear so for your sight.
The trouble is, I trust, nothing but temporary; the loss for a time of
the accommodation; it can easily be remedied when Pedirpozzo returns. So
do not let the fear of being a burden, which you can never be to me,
deter you from giving me the promise I so desire. Say you will be my
wife, Ysidria."

"I will," she replied, and then I took a ring of my mother's and placed
it on her finger.