ouse, to which all
the farmers and white country people in the neighbourhood were invited.

My kind godfather was in the habit of investing a 'doblon' of four
dollars every month in the Havana lottery; and he promised that if he
should succeed in drawing a prize, he would devote part of the amount to
the purchase of my mother. But no such good fortune ever happened to
the worthy gentleman, although, upon more than one occasion, he expended
a whole 'onza' in tickets.

Nothing worthy of note transpired during the early years of my
childhood. My health was all that could be desired after my teething--an
operation whose successful issue, it was confidently believed, was due
to the bone necklace which I wore from my birth, and which the good
people of my country consider acts as a charm against the evils imminent
to infancy.

Don Benigno's children--who were somewhat older than myself--were my
closest companions. We were, indeed, more like sisters together, than
young mistresses and maid. As for my dear godfather and Dona
Mercedes--they treated me as a pet child.

Before I had turned fourteen, I was already a grown woman, and, as far
as outward appearance, as white as it is possible for my caste to be.
With the exception of my lips, which are, as you observe, somewhat
_prononce_, and the whites of my eyes, which are slightly tinged with
yellow, there is no perceptible difference between me and those creoles
whose origin is less doubtful than my own.

Despite, however, my personal attractions, I was fully conscious of the
nice distinction between white and white about which the people of my
country are so jealously exacting; and my dark origin always formed a
barrier between me and my thoroughbred sisters. Whenever Don Benigno, or
his family, addressed me as 'Mulatica,' 'Chinita,' or 'Negrita,' I
sometimes thought of the literal meaning of those endearing epithets!

Tunicu, as you know, was always a frequent visitor at Don Benigno's
tertulia, but at the period to which I now refer, he used to pass some
hours with us during the daytime. I think Tunicu always admired me more
than he did Don Benigno's daughters, and now that I was a grown woman,
he often gave expression to his sentiments. I was by no means insensible
to Tunicu's attentions, for he was a handsome young gentleman, with a
dark brown moustache and imperial to match. His complexion, too, was
several shades darker than my own, though this, of course, did not
de