The dinner was jolly enough. Lina kept it going with her good humor, Fragoso with his witty repartees.
The Padre Passanha looked gayly round on the little world he cherished, and on the two young couples which his hands would shortly bless in the waters of Para.
“Eat, padre,” said Benito, who joined in the general conversation; “do honor to this betrothal dinner. You will want some strength to celebrate both marriages at once!”
“Well, my dear boy,” replied Passanha, “seek out some lovely and gentle girl who wishes you well, and you will see that I can marry you at the same time!”
“Well answered, padre!” exclaimed Manoel. “Let us drink to the coming marriage of Benito.”
“We must look out for some nice young lady at Belem,” said Minha. “He should do what everybody else does.”
“To the wedding of Mr. Benito!” said Fragoso, “who ought to wish all the world to marry him!”
“They are right, sir,” said Yaquita. “I also drink to your marriage, and may you be as happy as Minha and Manoel, and as I and your father have been!”
“As you always will be, it is to be hoped,” said Torres, drinking a glass of port without having pledged anybody. “All here have their happiness in their own hands.”
It was difficult to say, but this wish, coming from the adventurer, left an unpleasant impression.