“He is a good reasoner, too, you see that, Miss Darrell; though by moonlight his logic shines but dimly. Come, we must not keep Miss Darrell longer, since they will not come in,” said Mercedes.
“I think you might stop and take supper with us,” said Victoriano.
“O, no, thank you,” Clarence answered. “We came in advance to light the lamps, and attracted by the music, took the liberty of coming over the road.”
“I am sorry. Then you must have heard me sing. Bah! Mercedes, it is your fault,” said Victoriano.
“Don't say that. You sing very well, only the song is very plaintive, and the better it is sung, the sadder is its melody,” Clarence said.
“It must have seemed like a lugubrious welcome to Miss Alice. I shall never sing that song again,” said Victoriano, emphatically. “See if I do.”
“I am glad to hear you say that, for you are constantly singing it,” Mercedes said.
“I hope it will not be a prophetic coincidence that you should sing it as I came,” said Alice, and as she spoke the supper bell rang.
“That is the prophecy I meant,” said Victoriano, and all laughed, glad of the timely turn thus given to the conversation.
“With this assurance we must go home comforted,” said Clarence, and all bade each other good night.