Doña Emilia wiped away the tears that ran down her cheeks against her will.
"Bless you, my son!" she said, in a voice choked by sobs. "God alone knows the future, Melchior. I thank you for not having deserted us. Embrace your betrothed; perhaps this first kiss will be the last."
The two young people fell into each other's arms.
"And now, farewell," Doña Emilia continued. "Begone, you must begone!"
Don Melchior tore himself with difficulty from the maiden's clasp.
"Oh, not farewell!" he exclaimed, his eyes sparkling with hope. "We shall meet again," and he tottered out of the room.
"Mother, mother," Doña Diana said, throwing herself wildly into Doña Emilia's arms, "oh, now I wish to die!"
"Poor child!" her mother murmured, as she covered her with kisses. "Take patience; we have but a few hours longer to suffer."