The Spanish Cavalier

s relics which the Moors have left behind them in Seville. The high, dead, fortress-like wall, suggested the former term; a glimpse through the open archway of the dwelling, the latter. From this a

nce through the opening was, that a scene of Oriental beauty and splendour lay beyond it. Had Lucius had time for closer observation, he must have noticed also marks of poverty and decay. Every here and there a bright tile in the passage, and marble square in the patio, had been broken or displaced-the carving on the fountain had in many places been injured, and no water fell into its basin; but

r coarse dress, arms bare to the elbow, and the strong scent of garlic which hung about her, the dame might rather have been deemed a denizen of one of the low purlieus of Seville, than the servant of an aristocrat. The old crone, who use

lot of them; they're not fresh-not fit to set before the se?ora!"

e alive and swimming this m

d dame. "I who have been for nigh sixty years in the service of the illust

t you," retorted the hawker. "Come, you shall hav

eying the fish with a hungry look, but clinchi

his head, and sho

tom of the house," t

; "the barber round the corner will buy all this fish, and he e

unched after the retreating hawker, was su

ala de Agui

er pride as a retainer of a noble family, that she should be seen in the deshabille in which she had emerged from the kitchen, instead of the black sil

to come in?" inqu

's palace, he might not be home till midnight. Teresa stood in the middle of the archway like a jealous guardian of the place, who would suffer

tio with a rapidity very unusual in the movements of a lady of Spain. It was indeed but a glimpse, for the donna, seeing that he at the entran

, and feared to give offence by some unintentional breach of its rules. The manner of Teresa would have shown a less intelligent observer than Lucius, that she at least would have resented and resisted as an intrusion any attempt on his part to venture within the archway. A little d

close and lock the grating between them. With the air of a duenna who, having grown gray in servi

n richly embroidered with silver, into which Inez was fastening spangles of the same brilliant metal. A scarf of the most vivid scarlet lay carelessly thrown across her knees. The gay colouring of the work on which she w

t would the hidalgo Don Pedro de Aguilera have said, could he have seen his grand-daughter, without so much as a veil on h

s no lack of dignity in the tone of her gentle

old se?ora, and duenna to the young one; purveyor, keeper of stores, preparer of meals, anything and everything here,-helped by no one but bandy-legged Chico, who only serves the se?or becau

ra, then a happy young wife and mother, but soon to be left a widow with wrecked fortune and shattered mind. Her husband, Don Pedro, a wealthy nobleman, and of the bluest blood in Spain, had joined the army raised to repel the invader. The tidings of De Aguilera's death

ave purchased half Andalusia. Bitter were Teresa's invectives against the foreign robbers, who had not only killed her master, but plundered his helpless widow and orphan. Teresa had clung to the De Aguilera family in weal and in woe; but age and adversity had rendered more irritable a temper not

g for the step of Alcala. The sun had sunk, and the first faintly visible star shone over the patio, which was unprovided with the awning commonly used in the courts of the wealthy to soften the glare of a southern sky. Inez could no longer see to work; but her labour wa

TNO

of soup, co