"He did."
"And whom was it?"
"Isabella Gonzales."
"Isabella Gonzales?"
"Yes, my liege lady."
"A noble house; we remember the name."
"He said they were noble," sighed the countess, thoughtfully.
"Well, well," continued the queen, "go you and recruit your spirits
once more; as to Lorenzo Bezan, he is my protege, and I will at once
attend to his interests."
Scarcely had the Countess Moranza left her presence, before the
queen, summoning an attendant, despatched a message to General Bezan
to come at once to the palace. The queen was a noble and beautiful
woman, who had studied human nature in all its phases; she
understood at once the situation of her young favorite's heart, and
by degrees she drew him out, as far as delicacy would permit, and
then asked him if he still loved Isabella Gonzales as he had done
when he was a poor lieutenant of infantry, in the tropical service.
"Love her, my liege?" said the young general, in tones almost
reproachful, to think any one could doubt it, "I have never for one
moment, even amid the roar of battle and the groans of dying men,
forgotten Isabella Gonzales!"
"Love like thine should be its own reward; she was proud, too proud
to return thy love; was it not so, general?"
"My liege, you have spoken for me.
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