Every year I dedicate a magnificent bull to the King on his
name day."
"Will you dedicate one to me?" Gheta asked carelessly.
"The best in Andalusia," he responded with fire.
Cesare Orsi made a slight sharp exclamation, and Lavinia's heart beat
painfully. The former turned to her with sudden determination.
"Were you comfortable in my carriage," he demanded, "and fetched home
at a smart pace?" Lavinia thanked him.
"You are always so quiet," he complained. "I'm certain there's a great
deal in that wise young head worth hearing."
"Lavinia is still in the schoolroom," Gheta explained brutally.
"Yesterday she put up her hair, to-day Anna Mantegazza invites her, and
we have an effect."
Anna Mantegazza turned to the younger with a new veiled scrutiny. Her
gaze rested for an instant on Orsi and then moved contemplatively to
Gheta and Abrego y Mochales. It was evident that her thoughts were very
busy; a faint sparkle appeared in her eyes, a fresh vivacity animated
her manner. Suddenly she included Lavinia in her remarks; she put
queries to the girl patently intended to draw her out. Gheta grew
uneasy and then cross.
"I'm sick of sitting here," she declared; "let's walk about. It's
cooler, and Pier Mantegazza's place is always worth investigation." She
rose and waited for Cesare Orsi, then led the small procession from
under the striped tea kiosk down the terrace. The way grew steep and
she rested a hand on Orsi's arm.
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