“Cherry!” interposed the disgusted Jack, “how can you go on in this way! It’s all his humbug, Rupert.”
This serious denial produced, of course, shouts of laughter—in the midst of which Alvar entered and joined himself to the group round the fire as they waited for the arrival of some friends of Cheriton’s.
“And what have you been about?” asked Cherry.
“I have been singing with your cousins. Ah, it is pleasant when there are those who like music!”
“You found all these fellows awful savages, didn’t you?” said Rupert.
Alvar turned his great dark eyes on Cheriton with the same sort of expression with which Rolla was wont to watch him.
“Ah, no,” he said; “my brother is not a savage. But I do like young ladies.”
“But I thought,” said Rupert, “that in Spain young ladies were always under a duenna, so that there was no chance of an afternoon over the piano?”
“But I assure you Miladi Cheriton was present,” said Alvar seriously.
“Oh, that alters the question!” said Rupert. “But come, now, we have been hearing Jack’s views—let us have your confessions. Is the duenna always there, Alvar?”