man would ever be created worthy to
wear them," he said quietly, picking up the bracelet and fastening it
about her left wrist, and winding the necklace twice round her throat,
the ends falling down over her bosom to her waist. "May God's blessing
forever rest upon you, my child," he added, making the sign of the cross
above her, and stooping, he kissed her lightly on the forehead.

Involuntarily her hand went out for the fan, and as her eyes fell on the
name upon it, her woman's instinct told her all.

"Padre--Padre _mio_!" she cried, and throwing her arms about his neck,
burst into a passionate flood of tears on his breast.

"There, there, my child!" he said at last, regaining his accustomed
composure. "I now know why I was never able to part with them--not even
to the Church. I was keeping them for you."

"But I'm not worthy to wear them, Padre!" she exclaimed.

"Tut, tut!" he replied. "The ways of God are past all understanding.
When I think of how you came to me unsought and unbidden, and now, how
Captain Forest of a different race--"

"Oh, Padre, do you think I stand a chance of winning him?" she
interrupted, looking inquiringly up into his face as if to read the
answer there.

"Ah! that is a difficult question, my child. Love and intrigue are such
uncertain quantities to deal with, you know. Yet it seems strange that
he should have come into your life at this juncture. Captain Forest," he
went on after a pause, "is a great man. As you know, we have talked much
together of late on that most interesting of all topics--life. And it
seems to me that if ever God had plainly indicated his wish, you have
been reserved for one another to perform his will. Of course, I can not
say this for a certainty, but it appears so to me, and to see your hands
and hearts joined together will be the crowning joy of my life--"
Suddenly his left hand went to his heart, where he experienced a sharp
pain. A dizziness seized him, causing him to lean heavily upon her for
support.

"Padre _mio_--what is it?" she cried in alarm. "You are not well! We'll
not go to the _fiesta_ to-night--'tis better we remain at home!"

"It's nothing--nothing, my child," he answered, after the dizziness had
passed. "It's only a slight attack of indigestion, like the one I had
last summer while engaged in the mission work. You know," he added
lightly, "I'm no longer as young as I was--such things must be
expected." All day long she had experienced a dr