"Yes. Thank him for the great honor he has done me; but, as I cannot
marry two men, I choose the one I love--who first won my hand and
saved my life."

When Manuel heard her answer he was filled with rage and hate.

"So--so," he muttered, a sinister look creeping over his face, "she
will not wed me while Falcam lives. But should he die--what then?"

To Lianor he was always gentle, trying by soft words and many little
attentions to win her regard; a very difficult task. Since her
father's conversation, she shrank as much as possible from him, hoping
he would understand her studied coldness.

"Savitre," she said one evening, as they were dressing for a ball,
given in her honor, "that horrid man's attentions are becoming
intolerable! He will not see how I detest him, and am bound by love
and promise to another. I wish Luiz was here; he has been away so
long. I am tired of Tonza's persistence and papa's reproaches."

"Never mind, dearest; all will be well when your brave lover returns.
Perhaps he may be even now on the way. I am sure if he knew how
terribly you were persecuted he would fly to you at once," Savitre
whispered softly.

"I feel miserable--unhappy. Lalli, put away those robes and give me a
plain black dress. During Luiz's absence I will put on mourning, so
Tonza can read the sorrow I feel in my heart."