So much was Ronald engrossed in the perusal of this letter, which so fully displays the eccentric manners of his father, that it was not until he had withdrawn his eyes from its pages that he became aware of the presence of Catalina, who stood by his side, veiled and robed in her velvet mantilla for church. "You have received a letter from your home? I trust—I hope—there is nothing in it to cause you sorrow. Why do you sigh so very sadly?" said she, in a tone of thrilling tenderness. "Indeed I cannot say that its contents are calculated to instil any other sentiments than sorrow," replied Ronald, depositing it in his breast; "and I fear, Catalina, that the last day I shall pass with—with you, will be a very unhappy one." "The last day!" she repeated sorrowfully. "And are you still resolved on going so soon?" "My arm, you perceive, is perfectly well now," replied the officer, tossing away the sling in which it hung; "and it is indispensable, if I would save my honour from disagreeable surmises, that I rejoin my regiment. Dearest Catalina! a hundred other circumstances, of which you are ignorant, compel me to leave you,—to leave you perchance for ever." While he spoke, a passionate flush gathered on his cheek, and passing his arm around the waist of the yielding girl, he drew her gently towards him; yet even the feeling of delight which he experienced at that moment, mingled with a sensation of anger at the faithlessness of Alice Lisle. To revenge himself, he pressed his lips a second time to the soft and burning cheek of the beautiful Spaniard, and felt his blood fly like lightning through his veins, while he watched the long lashes which modestly shaded the brilliance of her eyes, and read the smile of pleasure and inexpressible sweetness that played around her finely formed mouth. A step was heard on the staircase. "_Santa Maria! Senor mio, el senor Gobernador_; my uncle the prior!" she whispered, starting from Ronald’s encircling arm. "Oh, ’tis only my gossiping cousin," she added with a smile, as Inesella de Truxillo swept into the apartment, with a long lace veil reaching from her stately head nearly to her feet, enveloping her tall and dashing figure. "Pho! I fear I have interrupted some very gallant and tender scene. How very unlucky! Catalina, _mi queredo_, how you blush! Your veil and long glossy ringlets are all sadly disordered. Indeed, senor, you have quite turned the poor girl’s head, and I fear we shall have some unhappy brawl, should my brother the Condé de Truxillo hear of it. He is one of Catalina’s most passionate admirers, and we expect him here shortly." "Inesella, I thought you were my uncle the prior," faltered Catalina, blushing with confusion.