“All I know is at his service,” said Alvar, sitting down at Cherry’s feet; “but he will, I hope, visit my grandfather, who will be honoured by his coming. My aunt, too, and my cousins would be proud to show Miss Stanforth Seville.”
“Oh, papa,” exclaimed Gipsy impetuously, catching these words as she approached, “to know some Spaniards. Then we should really see the country.” She broke off, blushing; and Alvar, springing up, offered her a seat, and introduced her to his brother, while Mr Stanforth said,—
“Thank you, we could not refuse such a kind offer; but I want to make Seville my head-quarters, and make excursions from thence. What sort of inns have you? Are they pleasant for ladies?”
“Papa, you know we settled that I was not going to be a lady.”
“Did we, my dear? I was not a party to that arrangement. You are not quite a gipsy yet, you know.”
“There are inns,” said Alvar, “but the best plan is to take a flat in what we call a ‘Casa de pupillos,’ a pension, I suppose. I know one. Dona Catalina, who keeps it, is an excellent lady, most devout, and she once received an English family, so she knows better how you like to eat and drink.”
“I don’t mean to eat and drink anything that is not Spanish,” said Gipsy, laughing.
“Indeed,” said Alvar, “you will not often find anything that is English. I sometimes fear that my brother will not like that.”
“You have a lively remembrance of being asked to eat oat-cake and porridge, and drink what we call sherry,” said Cheriton.
“But I will not expect that you shall like things that are strange to you, querido,” said Alvar, a speech that revealed a little of the family history to Mr Stanforth’s sharp eyes; while Gipsy said earnestly,—