first was indifferent, yet I soon
became attached from the many amiable and endearing qualities which love
had brought to light. She one day observed that there was a strong
resemblance between Don Pedro and me, but the possibility of a serious
shaven monk, and a gay cavalier with his curling locks, being one and
the same person, never entered her head. When I considered matters
ripe, I called upon Donna Celia, and, with the preamble that I had
something of importance to communicate, informed her I had discovered
that a young man was attached to her niece; and that I strongly
suspected the regard was reciprocal; that I knew the young cavalier very
well, who was very amiable, and possessed many good qualities, but there
seemed to be a mystery about his family, as he never mentioned them. I
ended by observing, that I considered it my duty to acquaint her with
the circumstance; as, if she objected to the match, or had other views
for her niece, an immediate stop ought to be put to the correspondence.

The old lady was very much astonished at the information, and very angry
that her niece should have presumed to make an acquaintance without her
knowledge. I waited until she had said all she could think of, and then
calmly took up the right of a confessor, pointing out that she had
herself fallen into the same error in her youthful days; that the young
man had confessed to me that his views were honourable; but had not an
idea, at the time, that I was acquainted with the family. Donna Celia
then appeared to be more pacified, and asked many questions: all that
she seemed to object to, was the mystery about his family, which at her
request I promised to clear up before any other steps should be taken.
Cautioning her against any violence of language to her niece, I took my
leave. As I went out I spoke a few words to Clara, informing her of the
_denouement_ which had taken place, and recommending her by no means to
irritate her aunt, but to be very penitent when she was reproved. Clara
obeyed my injunctions, and the next day, when I called, I found her
sitting by the side of Donna Celia, who was apparently reconciled. I
motioned Clara out of the room, when Donna Celia informed me that she
had acknowledged her error; and as she had promised for the future to be
regulated by her advice, she had overlooked her indiscretion. When she
had finished: "Prepare yourself, madam," said I, "for strange tidings--
the ways of Heaven