The Mexicans, like their Spanish ancestors, are extremely sober; they do not drink during meals. It is only when the dulces or sweets are brought in, that is to say, at dessert, that vessels containing water are placed on the table.
By a delicate attention, don Andrés offered wine to his French guest, who was waited on by his valet, standing behind him, to the general amazement of the company.
The meal was silent, in spite of the repeated efforts of don Andrés to animate the conversation. The count and don Melchior limited themselves to the exchange of a few conventional phrases, and then held their tongues. Doña Dolores was pale, and seemed to be unwell; she ate hardly anything, and did not utter a syllable.
At length dinner was over. They rose from table, and the servants of the hacienda dispersed to go to their work.
The count, involuntarily disturbed by the cold and measured reception which don Melchior had offered him, alleged the fatigue of the journey as a reason for wishing to retire to his apartments.
Don Andrés consented to this with much repugnance. Don Melchior and the count exchanged a ceremonious bow, and turned their backs on each other. Doña Dolores gave the young man a graceful bow, and the count withdrew, after warmly shaking the hand which his host held out to him.
It took Count de la Saulay, who was habituated to the comfortable elegance and pleasant relations of Parisian life, to become used to the sad, monotonous, and savage existence at the Hacienda del Arenal.
In spite of the cordial reception which had been given him by don Andrés de la Cruz and the attention he did not cease to offer him, the young man speedily perceived that his host was the sole person of the family who regarded him favourably.
Doña Dolores, though very polite to him and even gracious in their daily relations when chance brought them together, still seemed to be embarrassed in his presence, and to shun every occasion when he could converse with her in private: so soon as she perceived that her father or brother was leaving the room, in which she happened to be with the count, she at once broke off the begun conversation, blushingly faltered an excuse, and went away or rather flew away, light and rapid as a bird, and left Ludovic without further ceremony.
This conduct on the part of a girl to whom he had been betrothed from his childhood, for whose sake he had crossed the Atlantic almost against his will, and solely to honour the engagement made by his family in his name, naturally surprised and mortified a man like Count de la Saulay, whom his personal beauty, his wit and even his fortune had not hitherto accustomed to be treated with such strange want of ceremony and such complete contempt by the ladies.