This lady had spoken little since her entrance, while she seemed to be an attentive observer of all that passed. The French girls were wondering who she was. Their observations were piquant and full of wit; and as Monteagle was a perfect master of the French language, he was not a little entertained by their funny remarks. To him, however, the presence of the strange lady was a matter of very little interest. As her face was invisible, she might be a perfect fright for all that he knew to the contrary, and in the few half-understood words that fell from her lips, he discovered no more than the most common-place observations. He did, however, observe that the mistress of the establishment—a very beautiful and accomplished woman herself—treated the incognito with marks of the highest respect.
Scarcely had Monteagle placed his foot on the stairs to follow Maria to an upper apartment, when the unknown appeared in the hall, and having thrust a billet into the hand of the girl, turned and left the house immediately.
Maria laughed slightly.
‘What is this?’ said she, in her broken English. ‘One letter to read! Oh! very good; I shall read you a letter, mine friend. So much the better. I shall see.’
Pausing a moment, Maria opened the note, and read it by the light of the chandelier. The paper dropped from her hand, and she stood a moment as if transfixed with astonishment.
‘She! Oh! She! the holy and devoted one!’ cried Maria, at last, clasping her hands. ‘She, here—she come to this place—and all for me—for me—’
‘Come, come,’ cried the impatient youth. ‘Come, my beautiful one, and let us enjoy—’
‘Enjoy nothing. Not to-night; some other time. I can do nothing to-night. So she has remembered me. She has not forgotten those days of innocence. Ah, me—they are gone now!’
These words were spoken in Spanish; but Monteagle found no difficulty in understanding them, and they partially restored him to a sense of his present plight. But who was this ‘holy and devoted one?’ Some nun, no doubt, who had stepped between him and his enjoyments.
Monteagle, whose passions were much excited, stood looking at the fine form and swelling graces of the Spanish girl; her tapering limbs, her little feet, her large dark eyes, and lovely mouth.