Part 19 (1/2)

Oh, for knowledge what to say to him, with due grace and effect! Why was she not born a Spanish lady? And what would he think of her, with such plebeian work as this in her hand! ”How he must despise me!”

thought silly Blanche. ”Why, I have not even a fan to flutter.”

Don Juan was quite at his ease. Shyness and timidity were evidently not in the list of his failings.

”I think me fortunate, fair lady,” sighed he, with another bow, ”that this the misfortune me has made acquainted with your Grace. In my country, we say to the ladies; Grant me the soles of your foots. But here the gentlemen humble not themselves so low. I beseech your Grace, therefore, the favour to kiss you the hand.”

Blanche wondered if all Spanish ladies were addressed as ”your Grace.”

[Note 1.] How delightful! She held out her hand like a queen, and Don Juan paid his homage.

”Your Grace see me much happinessed. When I am again in my Andalusia, I count it the gloriousest hour of my life that I see your sweet country and the beautifullest of his ladies.”

How far either Don Juan or Blanche might ultimately have gone in making themselves ridiculous cannot be stated, because at this moment Margaret--prosaic, literal Margaret--appeared on the terrace.

”Blanche! Aunt Rachel seeketh thee.--Your servant, Master! I trust you are now well amended?”

Don Juan was a very quick reader of character. He instantly realised the difference between the sisters, and replied to Margaret's inquiry in a calm matter-of-fact style. Blanche moved slowly away. She felt as if she were leaving the suns.h.i.+ne behind her.

”Well, of all the lazy jades!” was Rachel's deserved greeting. ”Three rows and an half, betwixt twelve of the clock and four! Why, 'tis not a full row for the hour! Child, art thou 'shamed of thyself?”

”Well, just middling, Aunt Rachel,” said Blanche, pouting a little.

”Blanche,” returned her Aunt very gravely, ”I do sorely pity thine husband--when such a silly thing may win one--without he spend an hundred pound by the day, and keep a pack of serving-maids a-louting at thy heels.”

”I hope he may, Aunt Rachel,” said Blanche coolly.

”Eh, child, child!” And Rachel's head was ominously shaken.

From that time Don Juan joined the family circle at meals. Of course he was a prisoner, but a prisoner on parole, very generously treated, and with little fear for the future. He was merely a spectator, having taken no part in the war; there were old friends of his parents among the English n.o.bility: no great harm was likely to come to him. So he felt free to divert himself; and here was a toy ready to his hand.

The family circle were amused with the names which he gave them. Sir Thomas became ”Don Tomas;” Lady Enville was ”the grand Senora.”

Margaret and Lucrece gave him some trouble; they were not Spanish names.

He took refuge in ”Dona Mariquita” (really a diminutive of Maria), and ”Dona Lucia.” But there was no difficulty about ”Dona Clara” and ”Dona Blanca,” which dropped from his lips (thought Blanche) like music.

Rachel's name, however, proved impracticable. He contented himself with ”_Senora mia_” when he spoke to her, and, ”Your Lady Aunt” when he spoke of her.

He was ready enough to give some account of himself. His father, Don Gonsalvo, Marquis de Las Rojas, was a grandee of the first cla.s.s, and a Lord in Waiting to King Philip; his mother, Dona Leonor de Torrejano, had been in attendance on Queen Mary. He had two sisters, whose names were Antonia and Florela; and a younger brother, Don Hernando. [All fict.i.tious persons.]

It flattered Blanche all the more that in the presence of others he was distantly ceremonious; but whenever they were alone, he was continually, though very delicately, hinting his admiration of her, and pouring soft speeches into her entranced ears. So Blanche, poor silly child I played the part of the moth, and got her wings well singed in the candle.

Whatever Blanche was, Don Juan himself was perfectly heart-whole. Of course no grandee of Spain could ever descend so low as really to contemplate marriage with a mere _caballero's_ daughter, and of a heretic country; that was out of the question. Moreover, there was a family understanding that, a dispensation being obtained, he was to marry his third cousin, Dona Lisarda de Villena, [A fict.i.tious person] a lady of moderate beauty and fabulous fortune. This arrangement had been made while both were little children, nor had Don Juan the least intention of rendering it void. He was merely amusing himself.

It often happens that such amus.e.m.e.nts destroy another's happiness. And it sometimes happens that they lead to the destruction of another's soul.

Don Juan won golden opinions from Sir Thomas and Lady Enville. He was not wanting in sense, said the former (to whom the sensible side of him had been shown); and, he was right well-favoured, and so courtly! said Lady Enville--who had seen the courtly aspect.

”Well-favoured!” laughed Sir Thomas. ”Calleth a woman yonder lad well-favoured? Why, his face is the worst part of him: 'tis all satin and simpers!”

Rachel had not the heart to speak ill of the invalid whom she had nursed, while she admitted frankly that there were points about him which she did not like: but these, no doubt, arose mainly from his being a foreigner and a Papist. Margaret said little, but in her heart she despised him. And presently Jack came home, when the volunteers were disbanded, and, after a pa.s.sage of arms, became the sworn brother of the young prisoner. He was such a gentleman! said Master Jack. So there was not much likelihood of Blanche's speedy disenchantment.

”Marry, what think you of the lad, Mistress Thekla?” demanded Barbara one day, when she was at ”four-hours” at the parsonage.