She sent L'Isle for her
guitar, made him turn over her music, never releasing him for a
moment, while she sung no Italian, French or English songs, but some
of those native and cherished requidillas, the airs and words of which
find here so ready an access to all hearts; and she executed them with
a skill, melody, and pathos, that flattered and charmed the
Portuguese. The guitar, though the cherished friend of serenading
lovers of the old Spanish school, was truly but a poor accompaniment
to such a voice; but L'Isle saw that, like the harp, it had the merit
of displaying to advantage, the roundest, fairest, and most
beautifully turned arms he had ever gazed upon.
The dancers were again upon the floor; the night sped on, and Lady
Mabel made free use of her interpreter in ingratiating herself with
the Portuguese. L'Isle, true to his pledge, taxed his powers to the
utmost to be witty and agreeable in her name; at times a little
overdoing his part. Thus, at supper, when an elaborate compliment to
Dona Carlotta Seguiera, drew a reply as if it had originated with
himself, he stripped it of part of its merit by saying that he was
merely the mouth-piece of Lady Mabel's sentiments.
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