"Everything that comes from the desert will be dear to me henceforth."
The conversation of the guests had by this time grown animated. The little incident passed without remark, except from one person, who, with that kind of intuition which springs from love and jealousy, had divined in Don Fernando one who, if not an openly declared rival, was, at least, preferred in secret.
This person was Don Torribio Quiroga.
Leaning towards Don Estevan, who chanced to be near him, he said, in a voice low indeed but perfectly distinct and audible to all: "What golden key does this man possess, whom nobody knows, by which he introduces himself into honourable families, where his presence is neither desired nor invited?"
"Ask him yourself, señor," said Don Estevan dryly; "he will most likely be able to explain his conduct satisfactorily."
"I shall follow your advice this instant, señor," answered Don Torribio haughtily.
"It is unnecessary, caballero; I heard your words perfectly," said Don Fernando.
His voice was calm, and he made a courteous bow to Don Torribio, while an ironical smile curled his lips for a moment.
All conversation had been suddenly broken off; a profound silence reigned over those present, and the looks of all were turned in curiosity towards the two men.
Doña Hermosa, pale and trembling, cast a look of entreaty on her father.