“But, dearest, they shall not force thee to do what thou dost not wish.”
“Jose, I had my own free choice.”
“And thou didst choose—”
“To become his bride.”
“Will nothing induce thee to alter thy determination?”
“Nothing!”
“Good bye, Ysabel.”
“Jose! Dear Jose—” but the page was gone.
The next morning found the lady Ysabel in the spot where the page had left her. Then followed many days of sickness. Her life was despaired of. Day after day she lay, pale, cold, insensible. Reason had forsaken her throne. Her sweet smiles were gone; and the speaking glances of her dewy eyes had fled. Her voice too—for she had not spoken since that night. Even the pulsations of her heart were silent. Life alone remained—life without its light. And how her father watched over her—and how bitterly he lamented, and cursed himself for having brought her thus. At length light shone in her eyes—the light of life. Morning dawned in upon the darkness of her soul.
“Good bye, Ysabel,” said she.