never reflect
our faces more."

We had by this time reached the old ruin, and turned, as if of one
accord, toward the spot.

"Yes, Senor Carlos," said Ysidria, as we dismounted, "every word of
praise I hear about my eyes, seems like mockery to me; I, myself, am
frightened at their strange changes, and fear that I shall soon be
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.

"Let us go over to the wall and sit where I first saw you, Ysidria," I
said, "and begin the world with hope."

We started to cross the hollow, passing the atropa, which was just
sending out its early shoots. I crushed it with my foot, and ground down
each stem till not a bit of green was left, and then I placed some
stones upon it; some way I enjoyed this little act, and Ysidria joined
me in trampling down the plant.

"It is an ill-favoured thing," I said, "and does more harm than good,
but Madre Moreno, I scarcely think will thank me for destroying it, for
she always gathered its leaves for some of her medicines."

"Yes, she will, Senorito Carlos; she will thank thee," said a voice
behind us, and turning we saw Madre Moreno.

"I had come to do the same thing myself, and thou hast saved me the
labour. Why didst thou not kill it befor