"Henreich, beautiful, bold, wilful, and unrestrained, became at last a terror to both parents and servants. To me only was he loving and gentle; but even when in a fury of rage, he would yield to my entreaties and tears. I need not say that he was my idol. I loved him as sister never loved brother before. What I suffered when, unable longer to endure the anxieties and terror which his bold daring continually occasioned my parents, he was sent to England to be educated, I have no words to describe.
"It could scarcely be expected that a high-spirited lad, accustomed to have his own way, would yield at once to authority; at least Henreich did not, and soon fell into such disgrace that he was expelled from the school. My uncle, to whose care he had been committed, wrote, resigning the charge. He reproached my father in the most unmeasured terms for neglecting to restrain the boy's temper, which had led him in an ungovernable fit of fury to attempt the life of one of his teachers, after which he fled, and nothing could be heard from him. Father went to England at once. I never knew what occurred there, but when he came home he said Henreich was dead to us, and forbade that his name ever be mentioned.
"You will see later why I dwell so long on these sad events. I mourned over my brother, and, not being allowed to speak of him, I brooded over his troubles until at last I forgot that he had been to blame for them. I even came to regard him as a hero, who had been unjustly treated.
"All the fond pride which would have been cherished for both of us was now lavished on me. I scarcely had a wish but it was gratified. With the exception of my trouble at the separation from my brother, I scarcely knew the meaning of the word, till in my fourteenth year I accompanied my parents to England, and they left me to finish my education.
"I was now in the same country where Henreich had been, but I never, except on one occasion, heard his name mentioned. I asked my uncle Douglass if he knew where my brother was, and was answered, with a terrible frown,—
"'No, I do not. He may be dead, for all I care.'
"I never inquired again.
"I was in England two years, and returned to Spain 'finished,' as my graduation from school with high honors was called. It was then I entered on a course of gayety, such as I had never even imagined. Though very young, my hand was asked frequently in marriage; but my heart was never touched till one evening, at a gay assembly, I met a young American, with whom I danced nearly all night. Only the third time we met he told me he loved me, and asked me to be his wife. I confessed that I returned his affection, and sent him to my father.
"But now, for the first time in my life, I met opposition. My father and mother, foolishly fond and proud of their only child, considered it quite beneath me to marry an untitled foreigner. They talked as though royalty itself might be honored by an alliance with me. This opposition naturally fixed my determination to marry the man of my choice, notwithstanding all obstacles. I instantly invested him with the whole catalogue of virtues and when, added to these, sadness on his part proved his undying attachment, I made a martyr of him,—a martyr dying for my love.
"Under these circumstances I gave my parents no rest. My lover offered letters to prove that he was worthy; and at length, worn out by my entreaties and my evident loss of bloom, father did secretly write to a friend in London, requesting him to ascertain from Mr. Post, banker in that city, in regard to his position and prospects.