The cousin entered at that moment, and I snapped a third string by way of salute. It was one of the lower bass strings, and it made a terrible report. The cousin, who was not expecting it, stepped back, and the signora laughed aloud. That laugh had a strange sound to me. It was not in harmony with her face or her manner; it was harsh and spasmodic, and disconcerted the cousin so that I almost pitied him. "I am very much afraid," she said, when that nervous paroxysm came to an end and she was able to speak, "I am very much afraid that we cannot have any music to-night. This poor old _cembalo_ is bewitched, all the strings are breaking. It is really supernatural, I assure you, Hector; if you so much as look at them they twist and snap with a horrible noise." With that she began to laugh again, peal upon peal, without the slightest trace of merriment on her face. The cousin laughed because she did, but was abruptly checked by these words from her: "For heaven's sake, cousin, don't laugh; you haven't the slightest inclination to." The cousin seemed to me to be well used to being laughed at and teased. But he was hurt, no doubt, to be treated so in my presence; for he said in an irritated tone: "Why shouldn't I be inclined to laugh as well as you, cousin?" "Because I say that you are not," she replied. "But tell me, Hector," she added, abruptly changing the subject, "were you at San Carlo last year?" "No, cousin." "In that case you did not hear the famous Lelio?" She said these last words with significant emphasis; but she had not the impudence to look me in the face immediately, and I had time to recover from the emotion caused me by that blow full in the face. "I neither heard him nor saw him," said the guileless cousin, "but I heard a great dea! about him. He's a great artist, so I understand." "Very great," replied La Grimani, "a full head taller than you. See! he is about this gentleman's height.--Do you know him, signor?" she added, turning to me. "I know him very well, signora," I replied tartly; "he is a very handsome fellow, a very great actor, an admirable singer, a very clever talker, a bold and spirited adventurer, and, furthermore, a fearless duellist, which is not amiss." The signora looked at her cousin, then glanced at me, with an indifferent air, as if to say: "It's of little consequence to me." Then she went off into another paroxysm of inextinguishable laughter, which was altogether unnatural, and in which neither her cousin nor myself joined. I returned to my pursuit of the dominant chord on the keyboard, and Signor Ettore moved about impatiently, making his new boots squeak on the floor, as if he were utterly disgusted with the conversation being carried on between a mere workman like myself and his noble fiancée.