Carmencita now danced an affondangodo, followed by a sequidillo, with increasing energy, terminating by explosions similar to that which had roused such enthusiasm in her first dance.
Young Caldwell took the vacant chair behind Grace. After the usual questions, as to whether she cared for the dancing, he said,
"My mother was so delighted to get your note. She is glad that Sir Mordaunt and you can dine with us. Have you met Bagshot, our great lawyer and wit? We hope to get him and one or two others to meet you. But it will be quite a small party. You won't mind?"
"Oh! I shall like it so much better. Every one is most hospitable to us here, but I prefer small parties to large ones. Mr. Gunning," she called to her host, who was passing, "do ask Carmencita to sing while she dances. I am told that is the most charming thing she does."
"Why, yes! Michael Angelo Brown will get her. He speaks Spanish, you know, and understands how to tackle her."
He was going, when the princess stopped him.
"And after that, if you can induce her husband to dance with her—he is difficult to persuade, sometimes, but if you can only succeed—it is charming! so entrain! And there is something in their being husband and wife so—I don't know what! You understand? Ah!" She heaved a deep sigh.
The young man looked as though he did not in the least, but he hurried off to find the artist ambassador who should convey his request to both the performers. And, pleased with the fervor of her reception, the lady consented, so far as she and the song were concerned. It was a long story in couplets, threaded, so to speak, with dances. The precise meaning of each verse required some knowledge of Spanish to understand, but her marvellous play of countenance, and the variety of expression in that low, husky voice, which she trod with all the subtlety and delicacy of a great artist, told quite enough. This performance seemed to Grace to be even more remarkable, and certainly more pleasing, than the preceding ones. When it was finished, she looked round once more, with her bright enthusiasm, to try and catch Mr. Ferrars's eye, but he was nowhere in sight. All she discovered was Mordaunt and Miss Hurlstone in a distant corner, where she had seen them more than an hour ago, engrossed in each other's conversation. Well! Dear Mordaunt was an out-and-out flirt; of course, it meant nothing with him. It was to be hoped the girl was equally case-hardened.
"Do you know, Miss Ballinger," said Caldwell. "I am afraid I like this singing better than the opera last night. I'm not worthy of that grand music. It's such an awful row."
"Which you tried to drown with the sound of your own voice, I dare say," laughed Grace. "Most people did. Now every one paid devout attention to Carmencita. That isn't fair to poor Wagner, is it?"