to the place where his heart was supposed to be, that the sight of her
face had effected a full and immediate cure of all his ills.

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 sunshine 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 prisone