eremony was fixed at half-past five. Miguel also
arose, although unwillingly, and his betrothed went to get him a candle
from the kitchen. As she was on the point of handing it to him, he said
in a jesting tone:--

"Art thou quite sure that we are to be married to-morrow?"

Maximina looked at him with wide-open eyes.

"You had better beware! for there is even now time for me to change my
mind. Who knows but what I may make my escape this night, and when
morning comes half the people may be absent from the wedding?"

Maximina forced herself to smile. Miguel, who noticed how seriously she
took his words, came to her relief, saying:--

"What an innocent little puss you are! Could it be possible that I would
throw away my happiness! When a man is lucky enough to find it in this
world, he must cling fast hold of it. Within a few hours nothing can
separate us. _Adios_--my _wife_!"

The young man uttered these words as he started up stairs. From the top
of the stairway he smiled down on the girl, who had stopped motionless
at the parlor door, still evidently a little disturbed by the jest that
he had made.

"Till to-morrow! isn't it so?"

Maximina nodded her head.

That night was not one of sleeplessness for Miguel, as the night before
a man's marriage, they say, is apt to be. Not a single sad foreboding
passed through his mind; no fear, no impetuous eagerness; his
determination was so firm and rational, it was so vigorously supported
by his intellect and his heart, that there was no room for that
unhealthy agitation and dread which attack us at the moment of adopting
some weighty resolution. So far as Maximina was concerned, he was sure
of being happy. So far as he himself was concerned, he would do his best
to be happy. Once and forever dispossessed of the vainglorious desire of
"making a brilliant marriage," he was convinced that no woman was better
suited to him than this one. Never once did the fever of a hot and
violent passion cause him any discomfort. The love that he felt was
intense but calm; neither wholly spiritual, nor wholly material, but a
union of both. As soon as he reached his room, he spent a few moments
thinking about his betrothed, and then finding himself overpowered by
drowsiness, he blew out his light and fell into deep sleep.

Before it was five o'clock, the chamber-maid's voice woke him. It was
still pitch dark, and would be so for some time. He lighted the candle,
and dressed himself care