“Yes, Cousin Herrara purchased the turnout from a Cuban acquaintance here a few days since. He is going to send it to Havana.”
“You are very fond of Cousin Herrara, are you not?” I asked, with something of petulance in my tone.
“Indeed I am,” she said, frankly; “he is as kind and loving as he can be, and is always attentive without being obtrusive. I am indebted to him for almost all the pleasure I have seen since I left Wilmington. But, come, tell me all the news about the dear old place,” she said, laying her cheek on the downy tips of her fan. “What of Lulie and your Chapel Hill love?”
“Lulie is still Frank’s slave, and a remorseless cruel master he is,” I said.
“Then you and she have never renewed your old feeling?”
“And never will,” I said, solemnly. “The other lady to whom you refer, DeVare’s fiancée, is here now as the Hon. Mrs. Marshman. Her old Congressman is, however, too jealous for her to receive attentions from gentlemen.”
“Really, you seem to be unfortunate in your loves.”
“Indeed I am. I even fear that——” I found that the sentence might prove too pointed for the occasion, and I would not complete it.
Without asking for the remainder, she changed the subject into inquiries about all her acquaintances, and put me through a regular examination. When she had concluded, I told her I would now put her on the witness stand.
“Do you love Herrara, Lola?” I first asked.