Letters of Two Brides

Our mother had a presentiment that events would one day serve her

wishes. It may be that the longing of a mother constitutes a pact

between herself and God. Was she not, moreover, one of those

mysterious beings who can hold converse with Heaven and bring back

thence a vision of the future? How often have I not read in the lines

of her forehead that she was coveting for Fernand the honors and the

wealth of Felipe!

When I said so to her, she would reply with tears,

laying bare the wounds of a heart, which of right was the undivided

property of both her sons, but which an irresistible passion gave to

you alone. Her spirit, therefore, will hover joyfully above your heads as you bow

them at the altar. My mother, have you not a caress for your Felipe

now that he has yielded to your favorite even the girl whom you

regretfully thrust into his arms? What I have done is pleasing to our

womankind, to the dead, and to the King; it is the will of God. Make

no difficulty then, Fernand; obey, and be silent.

P. S. Tell Urraca to be sure and call me nothing but M. Henarez.

Don't say a word about me to Marie. You must be the one living soul to

know the secrets of the last Christianized Moor, in whose veins runs

the blood of a great family, which took its rise in the desert and is

now about to die out in the person of a solitary exile. Farewell.