“No, no,” cried Helen Hinckley, through her tears. “Señor Gonzales, do not, do not overestimate my knowledge of the law of God. I am only a creature of the earth, who lives not the highest law of God, but the highest she knows. Do not attribute to me qualities I do not possess. Your Honor, I entreat you to see things only as they are.”
Señor Guillermo Gonzales stepped nearer to Miss Hinckley, and addressing the Governor, said: “With your permission, Miguey, I will bestow a kiss upon the brow of your future wife.”
The Governor did not answer him in words, but gave his consent by a nod of the head, and said: “My Helen, he is my brother, the one I love next to you. His life, next to thy own, is more in tune with mine than that of any other being upon earth. He has kept me from falling by the wayside, when my physical life was too rank to feel thy beautiful influence, before my eyes were opened.” He gently wiped the tears from her eyes, his hand trembling with emotion.
Señor Guillermo Gonzales embraced her after the fashion of a devoted father, and bestowed a kiss of respect and admiration upon her brow. Then, turning to the Governor, he embraced him after the fashion of the men long, long ago in Mexico, before it became a part of the great United States of America.
Governor Lehumada clasped the bride of his past, his present, and his future physical and spiritual life, in his arms, and whispered in her ear:
“Thou art my other life I have longed to meet,
Without which life my own is incomplete.
Oh, dearer, sweeter self! Like me thou wert astray!
Straying, like me, to find the breast
On which alone can weary heart find rest.”