here from Spain? Do you remember me? I recall you as plainly at this
moment as though it were but yesterday--a little, flaxen-haired,
blue-eyed boy in violet velvet, unlike any child I had ever seen
before. I saw a woman with a face like an angel, who took me in her
arms, and kissed me, and cried over me, for my father's sake. We grew
up together, Victor, you and I, such happy, happy years, and I was
sixteen, you twenty. And all that time you had my whole heart. Then
came our first great sorrow, your mother's death."

She pauses a moment. Still he stands silent, but his left hand has
gone up and covers his face.

"You remember that last night, Victor--the night she died. No need to
ask you; whatever you may forget, you are not likely to forget
_that_. We knelt together by her bedside. It was as this is a stormy
summer night. Outside, the rain beat and the wind blew; inside, the
stillness of death was everywhere. We knelt alone in the dimly-lit
room, side by side, to receive her last blessing--her dying wish.
Victor, my cousin, do you recall what that wish was?"

She holds out her arms to him, all her heart breaking forth in the cry.
But he will neither look nor stir.

"With her dying hands she joined ours, her dying eyes looking at
_you_. With her dying lips she spoke to you: 'Inez is dearer to me
than all the world, Victor, except you. She must never face the world
alone. My son, you love her--promise me you will cherish and protect
her always. She loves you as no one else ever will. Promise me,
Victor, that in three years from to-night you will make her your
wife.' These were her words. And you took her hand, covered it with