“There is the band for the next dance, I must go,” she interposed. “I have seen by your card that you have no partner; but if you wish me to leave you I will do so, or take you back to the viscontesse--unless you will give it to me.” She leant back in her chair, her head bent, her brows gathered in a frown of perplexity and her fingers playing nervously with her fan. “I do not wish to dance, Mr. Donnington, thank you,” she murmured. “Just as you will.” A long silence followed. She was agitated and I perplexed. After perhaps a minute of this silence, I rose. “You wish to be alone, mademoiselle?” She did not reply and I was turning to leave when she looked up quickly. “I do not wish you to go, Mr. Donnington.” Then putting aside the thoughts, whatever they were, which had been troubling her, she laughed and added: “Why should I? It is pleasant to meet an old acquaintance. You have come through Paris on your way here, of course. Were you there long?” I was more perplexed by the change of tone and manner than by her former silent preoccupation. “I did not come through Paris,” I replied, as I resumed my seat. “I came from England in the _Stella_--my yacht.” “You have had delightful weather for your cruise.” “I was not cruising in that sense. The _Stella_ is a very fast boat and I came in her because I could get here more quickly.” “Our Portuguese railways are very slow, of course, and the Spanish trains no better. It is a very tedious journey from Paris.” “Very,” I agreed. Whether she wished to make small talk in order to avoid my explanation, I did not know; but I fell in with her wish and then tried to lead round to the old time in Paris. She turned my references to it very skilfully however, and after my third unsuccessful attempt, she herself referred to it in a way that forced me to regard it as a sealed page. “It has been very pleasant to meet you again, Mr. Donnington, and have such a delightful chat, and I am so much obliged to you for not having pressed me to dance. I hope we shall see a good deal of you while you are here. You quite captured my dear mother during that time in Paris. Of course you’ll call.” “I ventured to leave cards immediately on my arrival.” Then she rose. “I must really go now. Major Sampayo will be looking for me for the next dance. Have you met the major yet?” “I don’t think so; but I have had so many introductions this evening that I don’t remember all the names.” “Ah, the result of your supposed purpose in Lisbon, probably. Of course I shall keep your secret,” she replied with a smile. Then a sudden change came over her. She paused, the hand which held her fan trembled, the effort to maintain the light indifference of voice and manner became apparent, and her voice was a trifle unsteady as she added: “You will meet Major Sampayo at our house. Ah, here he comes with my friend the Contesse Inglesia. I suppose my mother has told you I am betrothed to him.”