out, and he thought himself perfecily safe, in pushing his plan a step farther.
"No, Carlos, her ailment is none of those you mention,"
"What is it then?"
"She is In love."
"In love?" exclaimed I smiling, "that's what I've remarked long ago."
"Have you, indeed? "Then I may dispense giving you information."
"There was no occasion for it. It is enough if he knows it, whom it concerns."
"I beg, Don Carlos, you ll give her no encouragement."
"You dream, Sennor, or have taken leave of your senses.—Whom do you mean?"
"You, Don Carlos; yourself."
"Should she be in love with me?"
"To be sure, with you."
"Stuff!—There's news for me!—But, Pedro, you are a wretched wit?"
"No, indeed! I am in full, full carnest."
"You see now, I am in the right. Your suspicions torment her. She sees herself re-
