"Aye, peace will be restored," quoth she of the expeditious tongue; "peace will be restored; and in sooth how should it not? But then that is not the only happiness in store for the friends and retainers of Don Alonso."
As she said this, Lisarda looked steadfastly on Theodora, as if expecting to be questioned about the said happiness, but as she perceived no symptoms of such an intention, she found the necessity of affording both questions and answers, lest the dialogue should draw to a conclusion, a catastrophe much dreaded by the good Lisarda.
"Now, by San Jose Bendito!" she continued in the tone of one that is most good-naturedly inclined to give unsought-for information; "my gentle lady, I would venture to assert that you cannot guess the motive of such happy anticipations."
"I cannot indeed," answered Theodora, with indifference.
"Well, I will keep you no longer in suspense, since you evince so anxious a desire to be acquainted with all the particulars."
Theodora betrayed some little impatience at the unconscionable chatter of her attendant; but the giddy maid, heedless of every thing, continued in a tone of great delight—
"So, the Lord save us! but the happiness in question is nothing less than a wedding."
"A wedding!" cried Theodora, with some emotion.
"Aye, a wedding," repeated Lisarda, emphatically, accompanying the stress she laid on the word with a most appropriate movement of her head and hands, as the right one struck the palm of its left companion, in token of asseveration: "A wedding," she continued; "and such a wedding too, that the like has not been seen at Granada for many, many a year. Let them boast of their Moorish gallantry and their infidel marriages—a fig for them! No, no; a Christian for me—a Christian, who will be satisfied with one woman, and in truth why should he not?"
"And who is the fortunate bride?" demanded Theodora, not from any motive of curiosity, but merely to acquiesce in the loquacious humor of her attendant.