"Well, what does it say?"
"Nothing," said María shortly, after a pause. "You say it is all nonsense—you may be right."
"I will get all these absurd ideas out of your head," said the blind youth taking her hand. "We are going to live together all our lives. Oh! Heavenly Father! If I am never to enjoy the blessing of which Thou didst deprive me at my birth, why hast Thou allowed me to hope? Hapless wretch that I am, if I am not born anew under the hands of Doctor Golfin. A new birth indeed—a new life! Oh! my darling, I swear to you by the image of God that exists in my soul, glorious, real and immutable, that you and I will never part by my will. I shall have eyes, Nela, eyes to delight in your presence, and then I will marry you. You will be my beloved wife—life of my life, and the joy and pride of my soul.—And do you say nothing to this even?"
Nela bent her head down over the lad's handsome face; she wished to speak, but could not for emotion.
"And if God will not after all vouchsafe me this mercy," added Pablo, "still you will not leave me, still you will be my wife—unless it horrifies you to think of marrying a blind man. Indeed, my dearest, I ought not to inflict such a burden on you. You will meet some good man who will love you, and who will make you happy. Your wonderful kindness, your noble feelings, your sweet face, must win many hearts and inspire the purest love in all who have to do with you—your future cannot fail to be bright and happy. I swear to you that I shall love you as long as I live; seeing or blind, I devote myself to you before God in the fullest, most perfect, and most unbounded love.—Will you not speak to me, Nela?"
"Yes—I love you dearly—very, very dearly ..." said Nela, putting her face close to his. "But do not be anxious to see me. Perhaps I am not so nice as you fancy."
As she spoke, Nela felt in her pocket and brought out a piece of silvered glass, a dull and useless fragment of a cheap mirror, which had been broken a week since in the Centeno household. In this she looked at herself. The image was all awry, and in consequence of the small size of the looking-glass she was obliged to study it a bit at a time, first one eye and then her forehead, till, holding it farther off, she could command a view of half her face at once. But alas! the result of her investigations was sad enough—as she looked in the glass, the tears started from her eyes.
"Nela, I felt a drop on my forehead—it is raining."