them once more upon the table, she knelt down, to seek
in prayer the strength of which she stood in need.

She was still upon her knees when Marianita, followed by Don Rafael,
entered the chamber--that virgin sanctuary of the two sisters, where
man, except their father, had never before penetrated.

A rapid glance told Don Rafael that the sacrifice had been accomplished.
He was already too pale to change countenance.

Gertrudis rose and seated herself upon a _fauteuil_. Marianita also
took a seat, but in a remote corner of the apartment. Don Rafael
remained standing.

"Come here, Don Rafael!" said Gertrudis, "come near me. Kneel before
me. No!--on one knee!--upon both only before God. So! Place your
hands in mine! Look into my eyes."

Don Rafael obeyed these gentle injunctions without resistance or
reluctance. What more could he wish, than thus to bend before her whom
he loved? To press those white delicate fingers between his own strong
hands? To drink from those swimming eyes as from the fountain of love?
What more could man desire?

"Do you remember what you just now said to me, Don Rafael? `_Oh!
Gertrudis, there is no love that could repay such a sacrifice! And
however beautiful she might be, that young girl must appear in the eyes
of her lover as beautiful as an angel_!' Are you still of the same
opinion?" And with a sweet smile the questioner looked down in the face
of her lover. "There, hush!" continued she, placing her little hand
over his lips, "you need not make reply. Your eyes--you have beautiful
eyes, my Rafael!--your eyes answer in the affirmative."

The simple and tender homage, thus rendered to the personal appearance
of her lover, may appear a little _brave_ in the opinion of those who
pretend to love a man for the qualities of his mind and heart. I shall
not discuss the point. I only design to draw a faithful picture, and
exhibit in all its simple exaltation the love of a Creole maiden under
the ardent sky of the tropics.

Reassured that she was still beautiful as ever in the eyes of her lover,
the young girl proceeded--

"Do not tell me, Rafael, that you will ever love me more than you do
now. It is sweet for me to know that you cannot love me more. Now!"
she continued with faltering voice--"now we are about to part. I do not
know--when one loves one always has fear. Take one of these tresses. I
have been so happy while decking it with flowers for you. Take it!
Keep