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 it as a token--a souvenir. It will remind you, that you should never cease to love a poor girl, who knew of nothing more precious to offer to God in exchange for your life. The other I shall keep myself, as a talisman. Oh! it is a fearful thing I am now going to say to you. If one day you should cease to love me--if I should know this beyond all doubt--swear to me, Rafael, that, no matter in what place you may be--no matter at what hour it may reach you--when you receive this tress from me, that you will instantly come to see me. This silent messenger will say to you, `_The woman who sends you this token knows that you no longer love her; but, despite all, she cannot cease to love you, and she desires once more, only once more, to see you kneeling before her_'--as you are now, Don Rafael!" "I swear it," cried the lover with emphasis. "I swear it; and though I were standing in front of my most mortal foe, with my sword raised to strike him, I should suspend the blow to obey that sacred message!" "Your oath is registered in Heaven, Don Rafael," said Gertrudis. "But now the time presses. Accept from me this sun-scarf, which I have embroidered for you. Each thread of the embroidery will recall a thought, a prayer, or a sigh, of which you have been the object. Adieu, my beloved Rafael! You must go; your father may stand in need of your help. What is a mistress when compared with one's father?" "It is time," said Don Rafael, suddenly awakening to a sense of his filial duty, "I shall be gone." And yet he remained kneeling at the feet of Gertrudis, ever intending to go, and as often tarrying in his intent, adieu following adieu, like the eternal waves of the ocean! "Say to him to go, Marianita," said Gertrudis with a sweet smile, "I have not the courage to tell him. One more kiss, Don Rafael, ere we part! let it be the pledge--" The ardent pressure of her lover's lips interrupted her speech. One last fond embrace--a strange commingling of joy and sorrow--one wildly spoken "_Adios_!" and Don Rafael rushed from the apartment.