Once only I visited San Angel. As I entered the house where L—— lived, I found him seated in the open patio, under the shade of the orange trees. Rafaela was beside him, and his only hand was held in both of hers. There was no surprise on the part of either, though I was welcomed cordially by both—by her, as being the friend of the man she loved. Yes, she loved him.
"See," cried L——, rising, and referring to the situation in which I had found them. "All this, my dear H., in spite of my misfortunes!" and he glanced significantly at his armless sleeve. "Who would not love her?"
The treaty of Guadalupe was at length concluded, and we had orders to prepare for the route homeward. The next day I received a visit from L——.
"Henry," said he, "I am in a dilemma."
"Well, major," I replied, for L—— as well as myself had gained a "step." "What is it?"
"You know I am in love, and with whom you know. What am I to do with her?"
"Why, marry her, of course. What else?"
"I dare not."
"Dare not!"
"That is—not now."