“But is it possible that you take this seriously?”
Luiza interrupted him.
“Ah, by the bye, did you know that my Cousin Bazilio has left Lisbon?” she said.
“Indeed!” returned Sebastião, joyfully.
“He has gone to Paris, and I do not think he will return.” And she added, after a pause, as if she had forgotten all about Jorge and his letter, “In Paris he will be able to live more according to his tastes; he had been wanting to go for some time.” Then, lightly patting the folds of her gown, “He ought to marry—” she said.
“So that he might settle down,” said Sebastião, finishing the sentence for her.
But Luiza was afraid that a man who was so fond of travelling, of horses, and of adventures, would never make a good husband.
Sebastião was of opinion that such men often changed, and made good heads of families.
“They have more experience,” he added.
“But a bad foundation to begin upon,” she observed.