which I had not observed, and looking back, whispered to me: "Softly, softly, Carlos, he is asleep still!"
She took me by the hand, led me to a bed, and opened the curtains—O Heavens what a spectacle to my sight! A beauteous little boy, gently slumbering as on a bed of roses, rocked by some sweet dream, laid here with one half of his fair frame exposed to my admiring eyes! My amiable confort clasping her arms around me, and reposing her blushing countenance on my bosom, lisped to me: "Remember the few blissful hours of my bridal state at St. Jago! This is the fruit of our loves! It is thy son Carlos! He shall share thy heart with me!"
I recognized my image in his face, and his floe-black eyes as he awoke. His innocent and contented mien seemed somewhat ruffled at the presence of a stranger. He then stretched forth his little arms with a smile of confidence to his mother, who loaded him with embraces. "Dear Mamma," cried he, on my giving him the first tender welcome, "is
