"Holy Virgin!" Inez said, addressing the general, "only see, father, how quickly the flashes succeed each other."
"My dear child," the old gentleman answered affectionately, "if I may believe certain wounds, which are a barometer for me, we shall have a terrible storm tonight, for they cause me intense suffering."
And the general passed his hand along his leg, while the conversation was continued by the rest.
Don Juan de Soto-Mayor was at this period sixty-two years of age; he was a man of tall stature, rather thin, whose irreproachable demeanour evidenced dignity and nobility; his grey hair, abundantly on the temples, formed a crown round the top of his head, which was bald.
"Oh! I do not like storms," the young lady continued.
"You must say an orison for travellers, Inez."
"Am I to be counted among the number of travellers, señorita?" interrupted a dashing cavalier, dressed in a splendid military uniform, and who, carelessly leaning against an orange tree, was gazing at Inez with eyes full of love.
"You, Don Pedro; why so?" the latter said eagerly, as she gave a pout of adorable meaning. "You are not travelling."
"That is true, señorita; at least, not at this moment, but—"
"What Colonel!" Don Juan said, "are you returning to Santiago?"