"Allow me to lead you, Donna Virginia; the dancers are arranging themselves. Had we not better take our places?"
"Certainly, senor; but our vis-a-vis, remember. Shall I introduce your friend to the Condessa Estremera.—she waltzes beautifully."
"The Condessa is engaged; she appears resolved to make quite a conquest of Bevan of ours."
"Are we to look all night for a vis-a-vis? Oh! here comes my sister Olivia; she is beautiful enough to make him die of love, and I shall introduce him, if it was only to make Truxillo jealous."
Truxillo regarded Stuart with no pleasant eye as he carried off his donna. However, he endeavoured to dissemble, and said with a smile, "I congratulate you, senor, on obtaining the highest order of knighthood that a Spanish king can confer. You will find it easy work to protect the pilgrims who visit Compostella from the insults of the Moors in the nineteenth century. I am myself a commander of the order," he added, displaying a richer cross, around which was the motto,—Sanguine Arabum.
"I am again to be the rival of this fiery condé. I am always in some confounded scrape," thought Ronald, as he led his partner to her place.
"Santa Anna, senor! these rooms are suffocating," said the lady.
"As soon as the dance is ended, permit me to have the honour of leading you to the garden."
"Pray relieve me of my scarf." The thin gauze screen was transferred from the white shoulders of Olivia to Ronald's arm.
"See, senor,—the Condessa; how well she is looking. Ah! had she only worn her tiara on her black curls, she would have been matchless."