She
bit her lip, while he, shaking his head, turned to L'Isle, and said,
"what a pity so lovely a lady cannot speak Portuguese. She looks just
like our 'Lady of Nazareth,' at Pederneira, only her hair is brighter,
and her eyes are blue."
"What says he about my language and _Nossa Senhora de Nazareth?_" said
Lady Mabel. "Tell him that I speak better Portuguese than she ever
did, for all her black eyes and tawny skin."
"By no means," said L'Isle, smiling. "As you will have no opportunity
to evangelize the man, it will do no good to outrage his idolatrous
veneration for _Nossa Senhora de Nazareth?_ You might shake his
superstition, yet not purify his faith, but merely drive him to a
choice between the church and infidelity."
They now left the shepherds to join the party. "I am provoked," said
Lady Mabel, "to find how little progress I have made in speaking
Portuguese. But it is not surprising what a complete mastery the
rudest and most illiterate people here have over their tongue."
"And how polite and sociable they are," said L'Isle. "Unlike the
unmannered and almost languageless English peasant, they are
unembarrassed and social, fluent, and often eloquent.
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