"No, madam. I fear I was not clear in my explanations. Señor Vallois had intended to return that way before it was decided that I should accompany him from England."
"We go by way of Vera Cruz," explained Señor Vallois.
"So long a voyage!" exclaimed Mrs. Smith. "I should have imagined the passage from England would have wearied you of the water for a lifetime."
"We came in one of your American packet ships, and were only twenty-seven days in crossing," replied the señorita.
"Only twenty-seven days on the ocean!" I exclaimed—"twenty-seven days!"
"It is not an extraordinarily quick passage, with favorable weather and our American-built ships," remarked Mr. Madison.
"Believe me, sir, it was not the shortness but the length of the voyage which compelled my exclamation," I explained. "Miss Vallois will pardon me if I express my admiration of her heroism. I once made a trip from New York to Boston by schooner. I came back on a horse."
This statement was met with a gust of mirth, no doubt due more to the wine which had gone before it than to its wit. Yet it served to throw the conversation into a lighter vein, that ended in a run of repartee as sparkling as the champagne with which it was accompanied. In this contest of wit and airy nothings I soon found myself as far out-distanced as the others were outstripped by Colonel Burr.
Again my partner gave me her shoulder, and my sole consolation for the slight was that she joined but little in the contest, and met the Colonel's gallantry with a reserve unmistakably evident in the poise of her head and the coldness of her perfect profile. She could be haughty with others no less than with myself.
Although she did not favor me with a single glance, the half-averted view of her adorably curved cheek and an occasional glimpse of her profile were far preferable to nothing. All too early, Mrs. Randolph gave the signal for the ladies to withdraw.