“I might induce the senorita to think I had this letter from—”
“Well, well.”
“A mistress of the count’s. And then you see.”
“Good, good. She’d hate him. Softly, good! a calumny. Ah, ah! a worthy scholar you of Don Basilio’s. Well, well, I’ll call the chit, and since you are so interested in me, why, I’ll e’en repose great confidence in you.”
The old man shakily going out of the room to hunt up his unfortunate little ward, the music master sat musing the most delicious thoughts. If now she would only consent to his plan, then they would be completely happy.
When the doctor came back, leading the opposing and indignant Rosina into the room, his jealousy was awake in a moment; for how should Rosina know that the Don Alonzo was somebody else at the same time? Hence, when she looked up haughtily at the music master, behold her face changed its expression directly, and to a little scream she added a little start.
The doctor saw the first, heard the second, and felt the third.
“Well—well—well!”
“Oh dear me, Senor, the cramp!”
“Hu—u—u—u—m.”