xpeditious tongue;
"peace will be restored; and in sooth how should it not? But then that
is not the only happiness in store for the friends and retainers of Don
Alonso."

As she said this, Lisarda looked steadfastly on Theodora, as if
expecting to be questioned about the said happiness, but as she
perceived no symptoms of such an intention, she found the necessity of
affording both questions and answers, lest the dialogue should draw to a
conclusion, a catastrophe much dreaded by the good Lisarda.

"Now, by _San Jose Bendito_!" she continued in the tone of one that is
most good-naturedly inclined to give unsought-for information; "my
gentle lady, I would venture to assert that you cannot guess the motive
of such happy anticipations."

"I cannot indeed," answered Theodora, with indifference.

"Well, I will keep you no longer in suspense, since you evince so
anxious a desire to be acquainted with all the particulars."

Theodora betrayed some little impatience at the unconscionable chatter
of her attendant; but the giddy maid, heedless of every thing,
continued in a tone of great delight--

"So, the Lord save us! but the happiness in question is nothing less
than a wedding."

"A wedding!" cried Theodora, with some emotion.

"Aye, a wedding," repeated Lisarda, emphatically, accompanying the
stress she laid on the word with a most appropriate movement of her head
and hands, as the right one struck the palm of its left companion, in
token of asseveration: "A wedding," she continued; "and such a wedding
too, that the like has not been seen at Granada for many, many a year.
Let them boast of their Moorish gallantry and their infidel marriages--a
fig for them! No, no; a Christian for me--a Christian, who will be
satisfied with one woman, and in truth why should he not?"

"And who is the fortunate bride?" demanded Theodora, not from any motive
of curiosity, but merely to acquiesce in the loquacious humor of her
attendant.

"The bride!" exclaimed Lisarda, "the bride! why, who should be the
bride?--Have I not already told you?"

"No, indeed, you have not."

"Really," resumed Lisarda, conceitedly, "for a thoughtless silly girl, I
am the most unaccountable female in Spain."

Theodora did not attempt to contradict her, as she was certainly a most
unaccountable girl for a woman of forty.

"Well," proceeded Lisarda, "before it again slips from my memory, I must
acquaint you that the bride is no other than our beloved