"He told me it was Oliver; still, I should not like to affirm that it is really his name."
The young woman gave a meaning smile.
"Would it be indiscreet to ask you why you entertain this unfavourable supposition?"
"Not at all, cousin; but señor Oliver appeared to me a very mysterious gentleman; his manners are not those of everybody. As I think, there would be nothing extraordinary if, according to circumstances—"
"He assumed a name," she interrupted. "Perhaps you are right—perhaps you are wrong—I could not answer that question; all I can tell you is, that he is the person who expects you."
"That is singular," the young man muttered.
"Why so? He has doubtless an important communication to make to you; at least, so I understood."
"Did he tell you so?"
"Not precisely; but while conversing with me last night he displayed a desire to see you as soon as possible; that is the reason, cousin, why I asked you to accompany me on my ride."
This confession was made by the young lady in such simple faith that the count was completely staggered by it, and looked at her for a moment as if he did not comprehend her. Doña Dolores did not notice his astonishment. With her hand placed as a screen over her eyes, she was examining the plain.