reworn expression
rested upon her face, as though some weighty responsibility too soon
had fallen on one so frail. The cheeks were very pale, and now and
then across the lips there came a quiver, as though she struggled
inwardly, and fain would give no outward show of grief. In truth, an
almost spiritual expression had come over her features; the impress of
some deep and hidden sorrow, nobly borne, though chasing the rosy hue
from her cheeks. Sadder grew the look, and some acute pain wrinkled
her brow as she threw aside the book, and covered her face with her
hands; while a heavy, yet smothered sigh, struggled forth, as if
striving to relieve the aching heart.

The door opened noiselessly, and a dark shrouded form glided with soft
steps to the chair, and laid a heavy hand on her shoulder. Mary raised
her head, and starting up, gazed inquiringly at the muffled face,
while the intruder pointed to the motionless form of Florence, and
laid a finger on her lip. Then beckoning Mary to follow, she receded,
with stealthy tread, to the door, which was softly closed, and walked
hurriedly on till she reached a large rose-tree, which shaded the
window. Mary shivered as the piercing wind swept over her, and strove
in vain to suppress a fit of coughing. There was a moment's silence.

"You did not know me?"

Mary started. "I did not, till you spoke; but, Inez, what brings you
out on such a night?"

Inez took off the mantilla which had so effectually concealed her
features, and threw it round the frail, drooping form before her.

"No, no, Inez, you will take cold;" and Mary tendered it back.

It was tossed off contemptuously, and mingled with a bitter laugh came
the reply--"I am not cold, Marinita, nor ever shall be but once again.
I am burning with an inward fire that will not be quenched"

"You are ill, Inez, and want some medicine; tell me where and how you
suffer?"

"No, no. I want nothing from you or yours: I come to help, not to
ask. Mary, why is it you have made me love you so, when I hate yonder
dark-eyed girl? But I am losing time. I come to warn you of danger,
and even now I am watched; but no matter, listen to what I have to
say. The Padre hates you, even as--as I hate him, and has sworn your
ruin. I tell you now you must fly from San Antonio, and fly quickly,
for danger is at hand. My countrymen are many here, and he is stronger
than all. You and I have thwarted him, and the walls of a far off
convent are our dest