"Oh, Senorita! Senorita!" she cried, in a tone of poignant
grief, "are you going to die? Forgive me, forgive me!"
"I have nothing to forgive you, Margarita," replied Ramona, raising
herself on her elbow, and lifting her eyes kindly to the girl's face as
she took the broth from her hands. "I do not know why you ask me
to forgive you."
Margarita flung herself on her knees by the bed, in a passion of
weeping. "Oh, but you do know, Senorita, you do know! Forgive
me!"
"No, I know nothing," replied Ramona; "but if you know anything,
it is all forgiven. I am not going to die, Margarita. I am going
away," she added, after a second's pause. Her inmost instinct told
her that she could trust Margarita now. Alessandro being dead,
Margarita would no longer be her enemy, and Margarita could
perhaps help her. "I am going away, Margarita, as soon as I feel a
little stronger. I am going to a convent; but the Senora does not
know. You will not tell?"
"No, Senorita!" whispered Margarita,-- thinking in her heart, "Yes,
she is going away, but it will be with the angels.
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