Zuleime shook her black ringlets mournfully, but did not reply.

“Do you know, my dear girl, that I am impressed with the idea that your father does not at heart wish to give you to Major Cabell, but rather yields to a strange power the man holds over him?”

“At times I have thought so, too. But then my dear father at other times really seems so set upon the marriage, that the thought has been driven out of my head again! I do not know what to think! But what I do know is, that I will never willingly do anything to give my dear father pain!”

“My dearest girl, do you know that I believe, from my soul, that your marriage with Major Cabell will give your father more pain than any other circumstance could?”

The young girl looked up in surprise.

“Zuleime! he told me to-day, that though he had promised you to Major Cabell, he would rather die than see you unhappy, or stand in the way of your perfect happiness!”

“My dear father! My dear, gentle father! My fond, old father!” exclaimed Zuleime, with the bright tears rolling on her damask cheeks, like dew on the red rose. “My kind, generous father! He shall never know that I am unhappy! And neither shall I be unhappy when pleasing him!”

“My dear, excellent girl! listen to me! You shall not be unhappy any way! Do you suppose, Zuleime, that I could ride by your side so cheerfully, if I thought you were going to marry that man, on whom your father no more wishes to bestow you, than he wishes to send you to perdition? Listen, my darling girl! When your father told me what I have repeated to you, he went on to say, that for certain family reasons, it was incumbent on him to fulfill his promise, and to bestow your hand upon Major Cabell, unless some insurmountable obstacle should interpose to arrest the union! Zuleime! a flood of light broke on me then! and I felt and knew that the old man would yield his darling daughter to the mysterious power exercised over him by Major Cabell, rather than bestow her with esteem and affection! Zuleime! without vanity, I think that he loves me better, and would prefer me for a son-in-law, if he were free to choose. I think, indeed I do, that he would hail with secret joy “an insurmountable obstacle,” which would prevent the marriage, and not implicate him in any manner. I think that was what he meant when he said what he did. Still, I am convinced that the words slipped from him unintentionally. I am certain he did not mean to give me the hint, which nevertheless, I take, for he is a man of strict honor, I know, and would never tamper with the spirit of a promise any more than he would break the words!”

“Oh! no, he never would, indeed!”

“And again, my dearest girl, when I asked him just before we came away, whether, at any future time, under any possible contingency, I might hope to obtain his consent to our union, he assured me that I might not, and earnestly entreated me to forget you! That further convinced me that he had no design in giving me the hint upon which I am about to act—do you hear me, dearest Zuleime?”