matter home and, if necessary, interfere.
The next day came, the wind had blown itself out, and there was

nothing to remind me of the business of the night. Felipe came to
my bedside with obviouscheerfulness; as I passed through the

court, the Senora was sunning herself with her accustomed
immobility; and when I issued from the gateway, I found the whole

face of nature austerely smiling, the heavens of a cold blue, and
sown with great cloud islands, and the mountain-sides mapped forth

into provinces of light and shadow. A short walk restored me to
myself, and renewed within me the resolve to plumb this mystery;

and when, from the vantage of my knoll, I had seen Felipe pass
forth to his labours in the garden, I returned at once to the

residencia to put my design in practice. The Senora appeared
plunged in slumber; I stood awhile and marked her, but she did not

stir; even if my design were indiscreet, I had little to fear from
such a guardian; and turning away, I mounted to the gallery and

began my exploration of the house.
All morning I went from one door to another, and entered spacious

and faded chambers, some rudely shuttered, some receiving their
full charge of daylight, all empty and unhomely. It was a rich

house, on which Time had breathed his tarnish and dust had
scattered disillusion. The spider swung there; the bloated

tarantula scampered on the cornices; ants had their crowded
highways on the floor of halls of audience; the big and foul fly,

that lives on carrion and is often the messenger of death, had set
up his nest in the rottenwoodwork, and buzzed heavily about the

rooms. Here and there a stool or two, a couch, a bed, or a great
carved chair remained behind, like islets on the bare floors, to

testify of man's bygone habitation; and everywhere the walls were
set with the portraits of the dead. I could judge, by these

decaying effigies, in the house of what a great and what a handsome
race I was then wandering. Many of the men wore orders on their

breasts and had the port of noble offices; the women were all
richly attired; the canvases most of them by famous hands. But it

was not so much these evidences of greatness that took hold upon my
mind, even contrasted, as they were, with the present depopulation

and decay of that great house. It was rather the parable of family
life that I read in this succession of fair faces and shapely

bodies. Never before had I so realised the miracle of the
continued race, the creation and recreation, the weaving and

changing and handing down of fleshly elements. That a child should
be born of its mother, that it should grow and clothe itself (we

know not how) with humanity, and put on inherited looks, and turn
its head with the manner of one ascendant, and offer its hand with

the gesture of another, are wonders dulled for us by repetition.
But in the singular unity of look, in the common features and

common bearing, of all these painted generations on the walls of
the residencia, the miracle started out and looked me in the face.

And an ancient mirror falling opportunely in my way, I stood and
read my own features a long while, tracing out on either hand the

filaments of descent and the bonds that knit me with my family.
At last, in the course of these investigations, I opened the door

of a chamber that bore the marks of habitation. It was of large
proportions and faced to the north, where the mountains were most

wildly figured. The embers of a fire smouldered and smoked upon
the hearth, to which a chair had been drawn close. And yet the

aspect of the chamber was ascetic to the degree of sternness; the
chair was uncushioned; the floor and walls were naked; and beyond

the books which lay here and there in some confusion, there was no
instrument of either work or pleasure. The sight of books in the

house of such a family exceedingly amazed me; and I began with a
great hurry, and in momentary fear of interruption, to go from one

to another and hastilyinspect their character. They were of all
sorts, devotional, historical, and scientific, but mostly of a

great age and in the Latin tongue. Some I could see to bear the
marks of constant study; others had been torn across and tossed

aside as if in petulance or disapproval. Lastly, as I cruised
about that empty chamber, I espied some papers written upon with

pencil on a table near the window. An unthinking curiosity led me
to take one up. It bore a copy of verses, very roughly metred in

the original Spanish, and which I may render somewhat thus -
Pleasure approached with pain and shame,

Grief with a wreath of lilies came.
Pleasure showed the lovely sun;

Jesu dear, how sweet it shone!
Grief with her worn hand pointed on,

Jesu dear, to thee!
Shame and confusion at once fell on me; and, laying down the paper,

I beat an immediate retreat from the apartment. Neither Felipe nor
his mother could have read the books nor written these rough but

feeling verses. It was plain I had stumbled with sacrilegious feet
into the room of the daughter of the house. God knows, my own

heart most sharply punished me for my indiscretion. The thought
that I had thus secretly pushed my way into the confidence of a

girl so strangelysituated, and the fear that she might somehow
come to hear of it, oppressed me like guilt. I blamed myself

besides for my suspicions of the night before; wondered that I
should ever have attributed those shocking cries to one of whom I

now conceived as of a saint, spectral of mien, wasted with
maceration, bound up in the practices of a mechanicaldevotion, and

dwelling in a great isolation of soul with her incongruous
relatives; and as I leaned on the balustrade of the gallery and

looked down into the bright close of pomegranates and at the gaily
dressed and somnolent woman, who just then stretched herself and

delicately licked her lips as in the very sensuality of sloth, my
mind swiftly compared the scene with the cold chamber looking

northward on the mountains, where the daughter dwelt.
That same afternoon, as I sat upon my knoll, I saw the Padre enter

the gates of the residencia. The revelation of the daughter's
character had struck home to my fancy, and almost blotted out the

horrors of the night before; but at sight of this worthy man the
memory revived. I descended, then, from the knoll, and making a

circuit among the woods, posted myself by the wayside to await his
passage. As soon as he appeared I stepped forth and introduced

myself as the lodger of the residencia. He had a very strong,
honest countenance, on which it was easy to read the mingled

emotions with which he regarded me, as a foreigner, a heretic, and
yet one who had been wounded for the good cause. Of the family at

the residencia he spoke with reserve, and yet with respect. I
mentioned that I had not yet seen the daughter, whereupon he

remarked that that was as it should be, and looked at me a little
askance. Lastly, I plucked up courage to refer to the cries that

had disturbed me in the night. He heard me out in silence, and
then stopped and partly turned about, as though to mark beyond

doubt that he was dismissing me.
'Do you take tobacco powder?' said he, offering his snuff-box; and

then, when I had refused, 'I am an old man,' he added, 'and I may
be allowed to remind you that you are a guest.'

'I have, then, your authority,' I returned, firmly enough, although
I flushed at the implied reproof, 'to let things take their course,

and not to interfere?'
He said 'yes,' and with a somewhat uneasysalute turned and left me

where I was. But he had done two things: he had set my conscience
at rest, and he had awakened my delicacy. I made a great effort,

once more dismissed the recollections of the night, and fell once
more to brooding on my saintly poetess. At the same time, I could

not quite forget that I had been locked in, and that night when
Felipe brought me my supper I attacked him warily on both points of

interest.
'I never see your sister,' said I casually.

'Oh, no,' said he; 'she is a good, good girl,' and his mind
instantly veered to something else.

'Your sister is pious, I suppose?' I asked in the next pause.
'Oh!' he cried, joining his hands with extreme fervour, 'a saint;

it is she that keeps me up.'
'You are very fortunate,' said I, 'for the most of us, I am afraid,

and myself among the number, are better at going down.'
'Senor,' said Felipe earnestly, 'I would not say that. You should