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The well reh it had been planked over, but it was partially filled up with rubbish, as Rosa discovered when she peered into it Only a tiny pool of scuirl arose, convinced at last of her brother's delusion, and vaguely ashamed of her own credulity This was about the last repository that such a man as Don Esteban, her father, would have been likely to select; for, after all, the most valuable part of his fortune had consisted of the deeds of title to the plantations No, if ever there had been a treasure, it was hidden elsewhere; all of value that this well contained for Rosa was her memory of a happiness departed Of such memories, the well, the whole place, was brimful Here, as a child, she had roirl, she had dreaht, had found her Yonder was the very spot where he had held her in his ared her to await the day of his return Well, she had waited

But was that Rosa Varona who had promised so freely and so confidently this pitiful Rosa whose bones protruded through her rags? It could not be Happiness, contentment, hope--these were fictions; only lorious dream, at any rate--a dreairl sitting in the sun, her thin face radiant, her great eyes wet but sress, "there is nothing here to eat; we "