CHAPTER XVIII.
BIDING HER TIME.
AT noon on the same day Jorge and Luiza were conversing together after breakfast in the dining-room, as on the eve of the departure of the former for Alemtejo. But they were not now, as then, oppressed by the torrid heat of summer; the blinds were thrown open to the October sunshine, and from time to time an autumnal breeze stirred the air. The light was paler, and on the trees the leaves were beginning to turn yellow.
“How pleasant it is to be at home again!” said Jorge, settling himself comfortably in his easy-chair.
He described his journey to Luiza. He had worked like a slave, he said, and made a good deal of money. He had brought with him notes for an interesting memoir, and had made many friends among the good people of Alemtejo. He had done with the sunburnt plains, the journeys on horseback through the mountains, the inns, and he was at home at last in his own little house. As on the eve of his journey, he was smoking his cigarette and caressing his mustache, for he had shaved off his beard. This was what had most struck Luiza in his appearance when she first saw him that morning. He had told her in regretful accents that the heat had made it necessary.
“But how becoming it is to you!” she had answered.
Jorge had brought her as a present half a dozen rare old china plates with humpbacked mandarins on them, suspended majestically in the blue atmosphere,—a treasure that he had discovered in the house of some old ladies in Mertola. Luiza was now arranging them on the shelves of the sideboard, and standing thus on tiptoe, the train of her morning-gown trailing behind her, her luxuriant chestnut hair reflecting golden lights where it caught the sunshine, she appeared to Jorge more graceful, more irresistibly charming than ever.
“The last time we breakfasted here together was on a Sunday,” he said. “Do you remember?”
“I remember,” answered Luiza, without turning round, bestowing her whole attention, apparently, on the plate she was arranging on the shelf.
“And, by the bye,” said Jorge, suddenly, “did you see your cousin? Did he pay you a visit?”
The plate slipped from her hand, making a clatter among the glasses.