"It is authorized much more, cousin, by the numerous services you have rendered us, and which give you a claim to our gratitude."
"Hence, whatever may happen, you and your friend don Domingo will always be welcome to us, caballero," doña Carmen said with a smile.
"You overwhelm me, señoritas."
"Shall we not have the pleasure of seeing your friend today?"
"Within an hour he will be here, señorita. But you are rising: do you purpose leaving us, doña Carmen?"
"I ask your permission to leave you for only a few minutes, caballero; doña Dolores will keep you company, while I go and see whether my mother is better."
"Do so, señorita; and be kind enough to inform her of the lively interest I feel in her, and my grief at finding her indisposed."
The young lady bowed and went away, light as a bird. The count and doña Dolores remained alone. Their situation was singular and most embarrassing, for they thus unexpectedly found themselves in a position to have that explanation, from which they both hung back, while recognising its urgent necessity. If it is difficult for a woman to confess to a man who is wooing her that she does not love him, this confession is far more difficult, and painful, too, when it must come from the gentleman. Some minutes elapsed during which the two young people did not utter a word, and contented themselves with taking shy glances at each other. At length, as time was slipping away, and the count was afraid if he allowed this favourable opportunity to pass, that it might not occur again for some time, he resolved to speak.
"Well, cousin," he said, with the easiest air he could affect, "are you beginning to grow used to this secluded life, which the unhappy circumstances in which you found yourself have brought upon you?"
"I am perfectly accustomed to this calm and tranquil existence, cousin," she answered, "and if it were not for the sad recollections which assail me every moment, I confess that I should be very happy."