"Would God she had not said so," answered the young man gloomily.
"Is it true?"
"I can not deny it, my lord, and yet I am the guilty one. I was on the point of yielding. Had you not come in we should have gone away."
"Yet you had refused?"
"I—I—hesitated."
"Refused my daughter! My God!" whispered the old man. "And you, shameless girl, you forced yourself upon him? Threw yourself into his arms?"
"Yes. I loved him. Did'st never love in thine own day, my father? Did'st never feel that life itself were as nothing compared to what beats and throbs here?"
"But Don Felipe?"
"He is a gallant gentleman. I love him not. Oh, sir, for God's sake——"
"Press your daughter no further, Don Alvaro, she is beside herself," gasped out Alvarado hoarsely. "'Tis all my fault. I loved her so deeply that she caught the feeling in her own heart. When I am gone she will forget me. You have raised me from obscurity, you have loaded me with honor, you have given me every opportunity—I will be true. I will be faithful to you. 'Twill be death, but I hope it may come quickly. Misjudge me not, sweet lady. Happiness smiles not upon my passion, sadness marks me for her own. I pray God 'twill be but for a little space. Give me some work to do that I may kill sorrow by losing my life, my lord. And thou, Donna Mercedes, forget me and be happy with Don Felipe."