This prudent reasoning restored me by degrees to my senses, and upon reflection I could not help thinking that I had deserved to be treated with more rigour than I had been. I told Sayavedra that his advice was too good not to be followed, and if we could set out post within an hour, it would be most desirable. “Nothing is so easy,” answered he; “your horse is sold, we are not without cash, and have only therefore to hire post horses, and begin our journey. Depend on me for providing every thing for our departure.” “Well,” replied I, “my friend, do what you think proper. Alas!” I continued, with a deep sigh, “could I but once more see my beloved widow I should part contented!” I expected Sayavedra would have opposed my desire, but on the contrary he assured me that he would procure me that satisfaction before we were ready to mount our horses. While I was engaged in expressing to my confidant my satisfaction in having met with a man so entirely devoted to my interest, my landlord came and told me a young woman desired to speak with me. At first I trembled for fear, for the least thing alarmed me, in the situation I was in. However I recovered myself when I found this young woman was one of my mistress’s waiting maids, who brought me a note from my widow, containing these few words, “_I expect you at my Cousin’s to inform you of circumstances of the utmost importance: farewell!_” I desired the maid to tell her mistress I would call upon her immediately, and as soon as she was gone, turning to Sayavedra: “See,” cried I, “what I wished for is come to pass. I fear it will be painful to me to endure the conversation of a lady I am so much in love with, and whom I shall never see again. Be that as it may, however, I must see her, though I die for it.” I charged Sayavedra accordingly, to settle every thing for me. “Make not yourself uneasy,” said he, “about any thing, and you may expect that in an hour and a half at the most, I shall be with the post horses near about the house you are going to.” Every thing being settled with Sayavedra, I hastened to my mistress. I found her in a dishabille, which betrayed more of disorder than of negligence; she looked dejected and pale; her eyes were still moist with weeping; in a word she was so altered, that she was not like the same person. On my part I was no less confused than herself. As soon as her cousin perceived me enter the room, she withdrew.