"Donna Inez de Gayangos."
"A Spaniard?"
"I believe so--a colonial Spaniard, at least--from Lima. Her
father, Don Pedro de Gayangos, met Sir Frank in Genoa by chance."
"Well?" demanded Lucy impatiently.
Mrs. Jasher shrugged her plump shoulders.
"Well, my dear, can't you put two and two together. Of course
Sir Frank fell in love with this dark-hued angel."
"Dark-hued! and I am light-haired. What a compliment!"
"Perhaps Sir Frank wanted a change. He played on white and lost,
and therefore stakes his money on black to win. That's the
result of having been at Monte Carlo. Besides, this young lady
is rich, I understand, and Sir Frank--so he told me--lost much
more money at Monte Carlo than he could afford. Well, you don't
look pleased."
Lucy roused herself from a fit of abstraction.
"Oh yes, I am pleased, of course. I suppose, as any woman would,
I felt rather hurt for the moment in being forgotten so soon.
But, after all, I can't blame Sir Frank for consoling himself.
If I am married first, he shall dance at my wedding: if he is
married first, I shall dance at his."
"And you shall both dance at mine," said Mrs. Jasher. "Why,
there is quite an epidemic of matrimony.
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