for me to
secure an introduction. Two weeks later, fate was to afford me the
opportunity of entering her apartment. I had been to the theater that
night, and when I returned to my room I thoughtlessly opened the door
of her apartment instead of that of my own. The beautiful woman was
reading by the light of the lamp and started when she saw me. I was so
embarrassed by my mistake that for a moment I could only stammer
unintelligible words. My confusion was so evident that she could not
doubt for a moment that I had made a mistake. I turned to the door,
intent upon relieving her of my presence as quickly as possible, when
she said with the most exquisite courtesy: "In order to show you that I
do not doubt your good faith and that I'm not at all offended, I beg
that you will call upon me again, _intentionally_."

Three days passed before I got up sufficient courage to accept her
invitation. Yes, I was madly in love with her; accustomed as I am to
analyze my own sensations, I knew that my passion could only end in the
greatest happiness or the deepest suffering. However, at the end of the
three days I went to her apartment and spent the evening there. She
told me that her name was Blanca, that she was born in Madrid, and that
she was a widow. She played and sang for me and asked me a thousand
questions about myself, my profession, my family, and every word she
said increased my love for her. From that night my soul was the slave
of her soul; yes, and it _will be forever_.

I called on her again the following night, and thereafter every
afternoon and evening I was with her. We loved each other, but not a
word of love had ever been spoken between us.

One evening she said to me: "I married a man without loving him.
Shortly after marriage I hated him. Now he is dead. Only God knows what
I suffered. Now I understand what love means; it is either heaven or it
is hell. For me, up to the present time, it has been hell."

I could not sleep that night. I lay awake thinking over these last
words of Blanca's. Somehow this woman frightened me. Would I be her
heaven and she my hell?

My leave of absence expired. I could have asked for an extension,
pretending illness, but the question was, should I do it? I consulted
Blanca.

"Why do you ask me?" she said, taking my hand.

"Because I love you. Am I doing wrong in loving you?"

"No," she said, becoming very pale, and then she put both arms about my
neck and her beautiful lips t