It would be in bad taste for us, also, not to leave Isabella and
Lorenzo Bezan alone. They had so much to say, so much to explain, so
many pictures to paint on the glowing canvass of the future, with
the pencils of hope and love, that it would be unfair not to permit
them to do so undisturbed. So we will follow Ruez to the volante,
and dash away with him and Don Gonzales to the Paseo, for a circular
drive.
"I left General Bezan and Isabella together in the drawing-room,"
began Ruez to his father, just as they passed outside of the city
walls.
"Yes. I knew he was there," said the father, indifferently.
"That was a very singular affair that occurred between him and the
Countess Moranza."
"Queer enough."
"Yet sister says that the general was not to blame, in any respect."
"Yes, I took good care to be satisfied of that," said the father,
who had indeed made it the subject of inquiry. "Had he been guilty
of deceiving that beautiful and high-born lady, he should never have
entered my doors again. I should have despised him."
"He seems very fond of Isabella," continued the boy, after a brief
silence.
"Fond of her!"
"Yes, and she of him," said Ruez.
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