"A capital way to rid one's-self of a bore!" exclaimed De Lucenay, while he cast a last glance at the glass. "So you are ready, milor," he added, turning to his friend, who, notwithstanding his indifference, had spent quite as much time in adonising himself. And, Pedro preceding them, the young men gaily descended the stairs.
On entering the salon, they found several groups already assembled. Doña Inez was standing speaking to two or three ladies; while several cavaliers hovered round them, apparently delighted at every word that fell from her lips. She disengaged herself from her circle, however, on perceiving them, and gradually approached the window to which they had retreated.
"What a lovely evening!" she exclaimed, stepping out upon the balcony, on which the moon shone full, casting a flood of soft mellow light on the sculptured façade of the old castle, tipping its forest of tapering pinnacles and the towering summits of the dark cypresses with silver. "You do not see such starlit skies in England, I believe?"
"I have enjoyed many a delightful night in my own country, señora, and in others, but such a night as this, never—not even in Spain!" answered Alphonse, fixing his expressive eyes on her with a meaning not to be mistaken.
"What a pity it is that we cannot import a few of these soft moonlights to our own chilly clime, for the benefit of all lovers, past, present, and future!" said De Lucenay gaily. "It is so much pleasanter to make love in a serenade, with the shadow of some kind projecting buttress to hide one's blushes, a pathetic sonnet to express one's feelings infinitely more eloquently than one can in prose, moonlight and a guitar to cast a shade of romance over the whole, and a moat or river in view to terrify the lady into reason, if necessary—instead of making a formal declaration in the broad daylight, looking rather more bête than one has ever looked before, with the uncharitable sun giving a deeper glow to one's already crimson countenance. Or, worse still, if one is compelled to torture one's-self for an hour or two over unlucky billet-doux, destined to divert the lady and all her confidants for the next six months. Oh! evviva, the Spanish mode—nothing like it, to my taste, in the world!"
"Misericordia!" exclaimed Doña Inez with a laugh, "you are quite eloquent on the subject, señor. But I should hope, for their sakes, that your delineation of lovers in England is not a very faithful one."
"To the life, on my honour."
"Probably they do not devote quite as much time to it as our caballeros, who are quite adepts in the science."
"Don Alvar de Mendoce, for example," muttered Alphonse, between his teeth.
"What! where?" cried the young girl, in an agitated tone; "who mentioned Don Alvar? Did you? But no—impossible!" she added hurriedly.