"Yes, that is true," she answered, with a roguish smile; "but you have a hope."
"A mad hope, an insensate dream, which the reawakening of reason will utterly dispel," he said with feverish animation.
"You are deceived or wish to deceive me," she said, with some sternness in her voice; "that is not right, Melchior."
"Señorita—" he stammered.
The maiden walked softly up to him. "We were brought up together," she said to him in a gentle and penetrating voice, "we grew up together, ever equally sharing our joys and sorrows; is that true, Melchior?"
"It is," he murmured faintly.
"Why, then," she continued, "have you become so taciturn during the last few days? Why do you shun me? Why do you fly on my approach?"
"I?"
"You, brother, who ought to keep nothing hidden from me."
"Oh!"