“I will, madam,” said I.

“Here are two reals for you, child—­have you spent the last I gave you?”

I left the room—­when Donna Emilia met me outside, and put a note into my hand for Don Perez.  I first took it to my friend Teresa, who opened it:—­“At last my affection has borne down my resolution, and I consent to see you.  There is no other way but in the saloon.  Be careful not to offend me, or it will be for the last time.”

“This may go, Pedro,” said Teresa, “and you may call at Don Florez’ lodgings as you pass by.”

I delivered the note to Don Perez, and before he had finished it, Don Florez entered the room.—­“Congratulate me, my dear friend,” said he.  “I was received as kindly as I could wish.”

“And my fair one has not taken long to relent,” answered Perez, “for I have an appointment with her this evening.  Pedro, tell your mistress, that I do not write, but that I bless her for her kindness, and shall not fail to meet her.—­Do you understand?  Well, what are you waiting for?  Oh! you little rogue, I understand,” and he threw me a doubloon.—­“Florez, you give that boy too much money, and I am obliged to do the same.”  Florez laughed, and I again took my departure.

Thus did I continue in my vocation for some time, when the old lady fell sick and died.  She divided her fortune between her two nieces, and as they were now independent, they married their respective lovers; but the old lady forgot to mention me in her will, and I should have been turned adrift on the world had it not been for Donna Teresa, who immediately appointed me as her own attendant.  I was as happy as before, although no more doubloons fell into my hands, after the marriages took place.  It appears that Don Perez was so much afraid of offending Donna Emilia, that he never ventured to speak of the meeting, which he supposed he had had with her in the saloon, until after marriage:  then, feeling himself quite at liberty, he had laughed at her on the subject.  Donna Emilia was all astonishment, declared most positively that it had not taken place; and although he at first ridiculed the idea of her denial, yet recollecting that he still had her notes in his possession, he brought them out, and showed her the one in which she had prohibited him from speaking on the subject.  Donna Emilia protested that it was not her writing, and was confounded at the apparent mystery.  She stated that Teresa had agreed to meet Don Florez in the saloon that night.

“On the contrary,” replied Don Perez, “he received a letter from Donna Teresa, refusing him a meeting, at the same time that I received this from you, giving me the assignation.”

Donna Emilia burst into tears.  “I see how it is,” replied she, “the page by mistake has given the note which I wrote you to Don Florez, and Teresa’s note fell into your hands.  You have taken an unworthy advantage of the circumstance, and have met my sister.  Never make me believe, Don Perez, that you were not aware of the mistake, when she received you in the saloon—­or that she could not distinguish you from Don Florez.  Cruel sister, thus to rob me of my happiness!  Treacherous Don Perez, thus to betray your friend and me!”