“If I was the subject of your thoughts I trust they were pleasant ones.” “You know an old woman--I call myself old, but I’m offended in an instant if any one else does--an old woman, especially the mother of a pretty girl--you think Miralda pretty, don’t you?” “By far the prettiest in the rooms to-night.” “Well, a mother gets into the way of thinking that when a young man pays her attention, it’s vicarious, you know. A woman’s never too old to relish attentions, of course, but I suppose you know that. But in Paris I had my suspicions.” “Of whom, viscontesse?” “Of you, Mr. Donnington. Perhaps I should say they were rather hopes than suspicions. You were a great favourite of mine, I’ll admit that. At the same time, I wasn’t quite sure that some of the nice things you said and did were solely on my account. But that’s all over now, of course--over and done with;” and she smiled and fanned herself slowly, looking at me askance through half-closed lids, as if to watch the effect of her words. Was she warning or reproaching me? Or both? What answer did she expect? “I trust nothing has occurred in the interval to cause me to forfeit your good opinion, madame.” The fan stopped a moment, as if she detected the double meaning of my words. “Four months is a long time to take to travel a thousand miles or so. I had hoped to see you in Lisbon.” “I think you know that I was called from Paris suddenly by my father’s illness. He lay for many weeks between life and death, and it was absolutely impossible for me to leave him even for a day. I have come here at the first possible moment.” The fan stopped again, abruptly this time, and she lowered it slowly until it rested upon her lap; her look was very serious and her eyes full of concern. “It is only these--these concessions which have brought you here now, Mr. Donnington?” she replied after a pause, her tone and look suggesting some degree of nervous doubt of what my reply would be. I returned her look and framed my answer carefully. “I have been very careful to let every one know that--every one else.” She bit her lips and frowned, the concern in her eyes deepened, and with a half-suppressed sigh she turned away and began to fan herself slowly again. I think she understood my meaning, but before she could reply Miralda came up on Major Sampayo’s arm. As she saw them approaching, the viscontesse started and glanced quickly and nervously at me with a look I could not read. I rose to give my seat to Miralda, and her mother sent Sampayo to find the visconte as she wished to go home. Then she burst into one of her garrulous speeches and did not cease speaking until Sampayo returned with the visconte, when she hurried both husband and Miralda away on the plea of an overpowering headache. And Sampayo went with them.