letters. She had hopes of the period allotted to the siesta, to
which custom, in old days, she had never acceded, but had always
spent the interval on any special occupation--above all, to writing
for him; but he went off without any notice of her, and she was in no
condition to dispense with the repose, for her frame was tired out,
though her hopes and fears could not even let her dreams rest.

Then came a drive with Rosita, resplendent in French millinery, then
supper; then the Opera, to which her father accompanied them, still
without a word. Another day was nearly the same, only that this time
she had to do her best to explain the newest fashions in behalf of a
dress of Rosita's, then being made, and in the evening to go to a
party at the Consul's, where she met Mr. Ward, and had some talk
which she might have enjoyed but for her suspense.

On the third, Rosita was made happy by unpacking an elegant little
black papier mache table, a present from Miss Ponsonby. Good
Melicent! were ever two sisters-in-law more unlike? But Lord
Ormersfield had done Rosita and her husband good service. If Aunt
Melicent had first learned the real facts, her wrath would have been
extreme--a mere child, a foreigner, a Roman Catholic, a nun! Her
horror would have known no bounds, and she would, perhaps, have
broken with her brother forever. But by making the newly-married
pair victims of injustice, the Earl had made the reality a relief,
and Melicent had written civilly to her brother, and a sisterly sort
of stiff letter to the bride--of which the Limenian could not
understand one word; so that Mary had to render it all into Spanish,
even to her good aunt's hopes that Rosita would be kind to her, and
use all her influence in favour of her happiness.