res of impatience, the wordless arguments between mother and son, which

persons attached to the Brull family. He scarcely ever left the house; a few moments at the Club after lunch; and the rest of the day in the dining-room, w

ss; that it was a young man's whim; that youth must have its fling! What was the use? Rafael hadn't studied to be a monk! Many boys his age, and even older ones, were far worse!... And the old gentleman smiled, for he was thinking of his own easy conquests with the wretched flock of dirty, unkempt peasant girls who

er counsellor. His predictions, made with a cynicism that always

nora; he had decided it was not worth while to quarrel with his mamma over so trifling a matter, and have his enemies discredit him

t?" her friends would

to go back. No, Rafael is a good boy. All that was just a young one's notion. If you could only see him keeping me compan

er smile and winking c

something doing i

his books, with which he would spend hours and hours turning pages without really seeing a word that was printed on them, Rafael had ta

he might sleep after a tempest. His mother's satisfied smile was there to encourage him in this feeling. Never had he seen her so kind and so commun

in all Alcira. He would help her thread her needles, and hold his hands out to make a winding frame for the skeins; and more than once, with the f

im indulgently with her withered forefinger. "Let Remedios wo

e hour of confidences came, do?a Bernarda would forget the affa

going

el takin

when it comes to matters like this. Believe me, you can't let one of that tribe out of your sight a minute. If

-that abominable creature whose good looks had been her n

hussy was livid with rage, you see, perhaps because she could not trap her Rafael again; for he, weary of such uncleanliness, had abandoned her forever. Ah, the lost soul, the indecent gad-about! Excuse me! Was a woman to educate a son in the soundest and most virtuous principles, make a somebod

coming down one peg on the ladder of her dignity toward don Matias, she began to treat the exporter as

means a good deal to me; hard to find a girl like her for running a house; but that needn't interfere with the marriage. I'm mighty w

y was that he would never have the chance to treat the tall, imposing Do

lions of a business, whose marvelous successes seemed like deliberate tricks of Chance, coming to revivify

lthy holdings of don Matías. It was a sight worth seeing-the kindly shrewdness with which she chaperoned the young

ace he used to put on when bringing up her troubles with her husband, "w

! The deeper in he gets with this one, the l

picking flowers and weaving them into the girl's hair while she pretend

ld murmur in a sort of entreating blea

rom the tips of her toes to the roots of her hair. She resisted only because such was the duty of a well-educated Christian girl. Like a young she-goat she would dash off with g

e mother would call, with a laugh.

d face into the smile of an old faun

e. I'd say, marry them off pretty quick; for, if you don't, mark

of dejection and despair on Rafael's face when he was alone, shut up in his room, where, in the

that Amazon, covered with dirt, as humble and abashed as a criminal caught redhanded and with no excuse. And then that word, that had cut like the lash of a whip: "Go!" As if he were

thought he would die of shame; his legs sagged under him, and the street turned black as if night had suddenly fallen. She had disappeared;

was a woman! And his hands, which seemed to have been unbound since that painful morning, went out toward her; his tongue, free after his vehement confession of love at the orchard-gate, spoke

ntoxication he felt when with the girl, an effervescence that all evaporated in solitude. He thought of Remedios as a piece of green fr

hip, and nights in sad and sleepless recollection, the one thing that pleased him was intimacy with his mother. Peace had been restored to the home. H

house. She and the servants would occupy the ground floor. The whole first story would be for the couple, with new rooms that would be the talk of the city-they would get the best decorators in

e will get more than my rascal of a son. All I ask of you is not to take her off to

ere was his mother, taking everything for granted, arranging everything, imposing her will, accelerating his sluggish affection,

was afraid to break; weak, as a matter of character, and without will power, he sought conso

on-when the blossoms were off the orange-trees! What would be left for him then ... except to obey his mother? He would marry, and perhaps

sponsibility. He would turn child again, as he once had been, have his mother take charge

fume as far even as the city streets. The air was heavy with fragrance. To breathe was to scent a nosegay. Through the window-gratings under the doors, through the walls, the virginal perfume of the vast orchards filtered-an intoxicating breath, that Rafael,

ra! Le

sunk into languor, in that atmosphere so heavily charged with perfume. The lash of spring was stirring all the impulses of life with its exciting caress, and goading every feeling to new intensity. Not the slightest breeze was blowing. The orchards sat

he bridge, where a few strollers, hat in hand, were breathing the night air eagerly, looking at th

rom the sidewalks. One row of houses lay white and gleaming under the moon. The other w

be free till dawn. He yielded further to the attraction of the roads that wound

with flowers, fill the air with perfumes; and yet, that night, as he beheld the vast mantle of orange-blossoms that had settled over t

erious palpitation, transfiguring the country, imparting to it a feeling of supernaturalness-the vision of a better world, of a distant planet where men feed on perfume and live in eternal poetry. Everything was changed in this spacious love-nest softly lighted by a great lantern of mother-of-pearl. The sharp crackling of the bra

ery sense seemed sharper, more acute; though that landscape imposed silence with its pale wan

ath. He had turned instinct

t such an hour. That reflection gave him strength to walk on. Behind him, over the roofs of the city, the tolling of a clock rolled. Midnight! He would go as far as the wall o

e had for many months been holding the songstress there in patient expectation. Leonora would never know he had been near her in the silent or

he had discovered in the days when he used to hover about the house. He went through, and his feet sank into the fine, sandy soil of the orange-groves. Above the tops of the trees, the h

o orange-trees and stopped near him with a muffled growl. It was the ho

th pleasure; and was content merely to sniff at the boy's trousers so as to make absolutely sure of an old friend's identity. Rafael patted him on the head, as he had done so many t

e patch of shadow cast by the orange-trees, dragging him

and was surprised to find the gate half ope

of the palm-trees and the rose-bushes, he saw a white form-a woman. A

ono

adly sunk into the eart

e. He kept his eyes fixed on the ground, ashame

never forgive you for," she said at

mpressed Leonora; but despite his agitation, he noticed a strange glitter in the

e coming to bid me good-bye-and without trying to see me! What a lot of nonsense! Wh

nowy orange-blossoms, the rose-bushes, the palm-trees, that stood out black against the blue sky where the star

ied to beg forgiveness for the madness that had caused hi

ou're forgiven; and since you've fallen on this spot as though heaven had dr

zon sure of herself, she turned to the bench, mot

ur ago my room was whirling round and round, as though I were going to faint. My bed was like a frail bark tossing in a tempest.

rting her, oppressing her powerful vitality. Rafael sat looking at her over the length of the bench-a white, sepulchral figure, wra

g of you that very moment. I confess it. I was saying to myself: 'What can that crazy boy be doing, at this hour, I wonder?' And suddenly you appeared, like a

she were talking to herself. Her body was thrown limply

neel in front of the house there in mute entreaty for pardon, while she

se, pardon, and such things. It makes me think of that morning. The mere fact that I am letting you stay here ought to be enough, oughtn't it? I want to forget all that.... Hush, Rafael! S

ysterious tremor; then extend her arms and cross them behind her head of golden hair, in a voluptuous stretch that made her white robe rustle, while her limbs grew taut in

e conversation; and not venturing to reduce the distance that separated them on the bench. She seemed to divi

been guilty of any foolish thing in my life, Spring was at the bottom of it.... It's youth reborn in us-madness paying us its annual visit.... And I-ever faithful to her, adoring her; waiting in this out-of-the-way spot almost a year for her to come, to see her once more in her best clothes, crowned with orange-blossoms like a virgin-a wicked virgin who pays me back f

arful; her body was quivering, shrinking, collapsing, as if lif

es gazing vacantly into space; then, she murm

ever felt the mysterious hidden workings of Nature; and He sang of Springt

head she added, in a

Walküre, do you? You've ne

caped in all their round, pearly strength from her drooping sleeves, spoke slowly, collecting her memories, recreatin

fugitive, forgotten of his father,-Sigmund by name, though he calls himself "Despair," wandering years and years through the forests, harrassed by beasts of prey who take him for one of themselves in his covering of skins, r

nd I am of the race of Hunters. Until the break of day, my house protects you; you are my guest; but as soon as the sun r

m the enemy will come to slay him. The thought of the woman who allayed his thirst, the sparkle of those pure eyes wrapping him in a gaze of pity and love, is the one thing that sustains him.... She comes to him w

and struggle in the world. It is the voice of Love. Slowly he draws near; embraces her; clasps her to his heart, while the door is pushed open by th

the visitant. "It is Springtime laughing in the air about your tresses. The storms are gone; gone is the dark solitude. The radiant month of May, a young warrior in an armor of flowers, has co

winter, now swaying with the new sap that had flowed into them like a torrent of vitality; and out on the brightly lighted plazoleta she could almost see Sigmund and Siglinda clasping in

hout a home, wandering over the world, she longed for someone to lean on, someone to clasp tenderly to her h

ild, as if the intense poetry of that memory of music had shattere

were dying.... But such a sweet death! So sweet!... What madness, Raf

here the silence seemed to be stirring with the palpitation of a new life. She could divine that somet

t he did not feel the brutal passion of the previous meeting; he did not dare to move. A sense of infinite tenderness came over him. All he yearned for was

ing; tender words that seemed to be coming from someone within him, th

flowers. The fields were quivering voluptuously under the rays of the moon; and they, two young hearts, feeling the flutter of Love's wings about

eonora!" mo

he found himself kneeling at her feet, clutching her hands, a

protesting feebly, w

hurt me.... I fe

to me forever; to gaze into your dear eyes, and to murmur in your ear, your sweet, beau

akening resistance,

not. It's a feeli

ap singer, that adventuress of a career so checkered, who had been violently thrust into her first experience of passion, and now for the first time felt the blush of m

g to me? It must be love; a new love that I did not thin

essed her lips to his, and then fell back in her seat

ways loved you from the first, but now ... I adore you....

was thrilled by a deeply generous sentiment. The

to me forever....

aw the artiste's eyes open wide in surpri

but me you must love, my darling child, ever so much, as m