When he had gone away my neighbour seemed inclined to be more communicative, and informed me that Nina was a dancer whom the Count de Ricla, the Viceroy of Barcelona, was keeping for some weeks at Valentia, till he could get her back to Barcelona, whence the bishop of the diocese had expelled her on account of the scandals to which she gave rise. "The count," he added, "is madly in love with her, and allows her fifty doubloons a day." "I should hope she does not spend them." "She can't do that, but she does not let a day pass without committing some expensive act of folly." I felt curious to know a woman of such a peculiar character, and longed for the end of the bull fight, little thinking in what trouble this new acquaintance would involve me. She received me with great politeness, and as she got into her carriage drawn by six mules, she said she would be delighted if I would breakfast with her at nine o'clock on the following day. I promised to come, and I kept my word. Her house was just outside the town walls, and was a very large building. It was richly and tastefully furnished, and was surrounded by an enormous garden. The first thing that struck me was the number of the lackeys and the richness of their liveries, and the maids in elegant attire, who seemed to be going and coming in all directions. As I advanced I heard an imperious voice scolding some one. The scold was Nina, who was abusing an astonished-looking man, who was standing by a large table covered with stuffs and laces. "Excuse me," said she, "but this fool of a Spaniard wants to persuade me that this lace is really handsome." She asked me what I thought of the lace, and though I privately thought it lace of the finest quality, I did not care to contradict her, and so replied that I was no judge. "Madam," said the tradesman, "if you do not like the lace, leave it; will you keep the stuffs?" "Yes," she replied; "and as for the lace, I will shew you that it is not the money that deters me." So saying the mad girl took up a pair of scissors and cut the lace into fragments. "What a pity!" said the man who had spoken to me at the bull fight. "People will say that you have gone off your head." "Be silent, you pimping rogue!" said she, enforcing her words with a sturdy box on the ear. The fellow went off, calling her strumpet, which only made her scream with laughter; then, turning to the Spaniard, she told him to make out his account directly. The man did not want telling twice, and avenged himself for the abuse he had received by the inordinate length of his bill. She took up the account and placed her initials at the bottom without deigning to look at the items, and said,-- "Go to Don Diego Valencia; he will pay you immediately." As soon as we were alone the chocolate was served, and she sent a message to the fellow whose ears she had boxed to come to breakfast directly.