in the business. Clara, the daughter, was both pretty and modest; and though she had had, at least, three tolerable "offers" of marriage already, she had not at present thought fit to accept one of them. Little Mig, or Miguel—the young scapegrace just now discovered thrashing the mules—was certainly the most rampant of the family, and had given his estimable parents some trouble. The two youngest children were merely sweet tempered and interesting.
On their safe arrival at Perote, they selected one of the most prison-looking of the gloomy little habitations at the north end of the street; the only entrance to which was through a buttressed court-yard; and whose only ornaments were some dead plants in adobé pots and boxes, on a bench beneath one of the gable ends of the house. This residence looked so completely secluded, that, when you were once in, you would fancy you required the assistance of a gaoler to let you out again; but in this particular it harmonised with the feelings of the now stricken beings who sought its shelter.
Never was speculation more lively, nor curiosity more excited, among the gossips of
