"I don't know about that, señorito," the maid hurriedly replied, with signs of confusion.
"Get along, little hypocrite!" he returned, laughing; "you know as well as I do, as well as everybody. And when is it to be?"
"I tell you I know nothing."
But the Chatterbox insisted so much, and was so eloquent and familiar, that after some time the servant let out what she knew.
"But look here, I cannot tell you anything for certain of what is going on, but I think he will marry shortly, from some remarks I heard the other day of the señora countess."
"What remarks?"
"She said to the housekeeper that when her son married she would go for a time to the Grange, and afterwards, looking through the keyhole, I saw her crying. Then Fray Diego was in the house the day before yesterday—but I don't know whether I ought to say."
"Get along, woman; what does it matter. Do you think I am a gossip?"
"Well, I heard him say when he was leaving: 'No, no, they are quite right, it is much better for them to do it in Madrid. This is a very spiteful place.'"
The pleasure that Columbus felt at the discovery of the New World was nothing in comparison to that of our Chatterbox. He not only knew without any kind of doubt, that they were going to be married, but he had ascertained where the ceremony was to take place. Overwhelmed with such splendid news, and wishing to pour it forth to somebody, he stopped to consider where it would have the most effect. His thoughts went straight to Amalia; so to the Palace of Quiñones he directed his mincing little steps.