"Ah, señor, I shall try my best; but sometimes I think I am not good enough for him. He is such a brave man, my Lorenzo."
"Why are you here, Loretta?"
"To escort Lorenzo's cousin, señor, who came over to see me to-day for the last time before my wedding. She lives in Tarragona. We have been great friends, and she has long hoped Lorenzo and I would marry."
She carried in her hand, this cousin of Lorenzo's, a glass water-bottle of rare and exquisite shape. We could not help admiring it in strong terms.
"It is not to be bought anywhere," she said. "It is old and they do not make them now. Señor, it would give me real pleasure if you would accept it. I do not mean in Spanish fashion, but truly and sincerely."
This was very evident, but the gift had to be refused, however kindly offered.
We walked up and down the platform in face of one of the loveliest sunsets ever seen. In spite of its gorgeous colouring there was a great calmness and repose about it. Wonderful tones from crimson to pale opal spread half over the sky. Every moment they changed from beauty to beauty, and lighted up the outlines of the town into something rare and ethereal. We have already said there is no country like Spain for the splendour of its sunsets, and especially in their afterglow. They are truly amongst her glories.
At last the train came up and shut out the heavenly vision. Loretta approached and said good-bye.
"You will come again, señor, and ride Caro. I shall be married then, and both Lorenzo and I will escort you to Poblet. It will delight us to serve you. We will make it a holiday. But do not tarry. Caro is not as young as he was, though I believe donkeys live for ever."
"Now, Loretta," we said, whilst the train waited, "it is our ambition to send you a wedding-gift. What shall it be?"