“Oh! it is magnificent. Carramba! Señor de Arechiza, it is a perfect cataract of felicities to be lavished upon my head, it is a dream! it is a dream!” shouted the Senator, as he strode to and fro across the floor.
“Lose no time then in making it a reality,” replied Don Estevan.
“But is the time so pressing?” inquired the Senator, suddenly pausing in his steps.
“Why this question? Is it possible to be too quick in obtaining happiness?”
The Senator appeared thoughtful, and for a moment presented an aspect of embarrassment, in strange contrast to his previous looks. He replied after a pause—
“The fact is, Don Estevan, I am willing to marry an heiress whose wealth, as is usually the case, would compensate for her ugliness. In this case it is the very beauty of the lady that confuses me.”
“Perhaps she does not please you!”
“On the contrary, so much happiness awes me. It appears to me, for a reason which I cannot divine, that some sad disappointment lurks under the seductive prospect.”
“Ah! just as I expected,” answered Don Estevan; “it is the human heart. I knew you would make some objection of this kind, but I thought you were more a man of the world than to trouble yourself about the past with such a splendid fortune before you. Ah! my poor Despilfarro,” added the Spaniard, with a laugh, “I thought you were more advanced.”
“But why, Don Estevan?” inquired the Senator, intending to give a proof of his high diplomatic capacity,—“why is it, entre nous, that you desire to lavish this treasure of beauty—to say nothing of her grand wealth—upon another, while you yourself—”