Fiction > Book editions > London, 1885 - Dynamiter

The buown dox. 141
mortal changes. As for her character, beauty to the
young is always good. So the poor lad lingered late
upon the terrace, stealing timid glances at the curtained
window, sighing to the gold laburnums, rapt into the
country of romance ; and when at length he entered
and sat down to dine, on cold boiled mutton and a pint
of ale, he feasted on tlie food of gods.
Next day wlien he returned to the terrace, the
window was a little ajar and lie enjoyed a view of the
lady's shoulder, as she sat patiently sewing and all
unconscious of his presence. On the next, he had scarce
appeared when the window opened, and the Senorita
tripped forth into the sunlight, in a morning disorder,
delicately neat, and yet somehow foreign, tropical and
strange. In one hand she held a packet.
' Will you try,' she said, ' some of my father's
tobacco — from dear Cuba ? There, as I suppose you
know, all smoke, ladies as well as gentlemen. So you
need not fear to annoy me. The fragrance will remind
me of home. My home, Sefior, was by the sea.' And
as she uttered these few words, Desborough, for the
first time in his life, realised the poetry of the great
deep. ' Awake or asleep, I dream of it ; dear home,
dear Cuba ! '
' But some day,' said Desborough, with an inward
pang, ' some day you will return ? '
' Never ! ' she cried ; ' ah, never, in Heaven's name ! '
' Are you then resident for life in England ? ' he
inquired with a strange lightening of spirit.
' You ask too much, for you ask more than I know,'
she answered sadly ; and then, resuming her gaiety of
manner : ' But you have not tried my Cuban tobacco,' she
said.
'Senorita,' said he, shyly abashed by some shadow
of coquetry in her manner, ' whatever comes to me —
you — I mean,' he concluded, deeply flushing, ' that I
have no doubt the tobacco is delightful.'
' Ah, Sefior,' she said, with almost mournful gravity,
' you seemed so simple and good, and already you are
trying to pay compliments^and besides,' she added,