Story 1, Chapter IX.
Evil Imaginings.
My discovery of the real relationship existing between Calros and Lola at once cured me of an incipient jealousy, which, though slight, had promised to become sufficiently painful.
Its very existence, however, would have proved to me that I was already in love, had such proof been required to convince me.
But I needed not to reason on that head. I knew that I was enamoured with Lola Vergara—had fallen in love with her at first sight—at that very moment when her accusing eyes flashed fiercely upon me, and through her dazzling teeth was hissed forth that angry epithet, proclaiming me a murderer! In the full tide of anger, with frowning face and furious look, had she appeared lovely—scarcely less lovely than now in her smiles!
I had since beheld these. She smiled on learning that Calros was in no danger of death. She smiled on me as the preserver of his life, gratefully—I fancied graciously. On that fancy I had founded a hope; and hence the jealousy that had so quickly and causelessly arisen.
The hope became strengthened on hearing that fraternal apostrophe, “Hermanita Calros!” pronounced in a language unequalled in the phraseology of affectionate endearment.
The words bespoke a relationship far different from that I had supposed to exist between them—leaving her bosom free for another affection—a passion compatible, if not kindred.
Was it my destiny to inspire this passion? Was that grand triumph to be mine?
Her singular speeches, not very honestly overheard, filled me with hope.