of Nature supply,
even anticipate, the wants and luxuries of man.

Whatever the interest, and occasionally it rose to a high pitch, that
attended his narratives of danger and daring, the little sketches he
gave from time to time of the domestic life of these far-away people,
seemed to attract the most delighted attention of his fair hearers,
particularly where his narrative touched upon the traits, whether of
beauty, dress, or demeanor, that distinguish the belles of New Spain.

"How difficult," said Miss Kennyfeck, "I could almost say, how
impossible, to leave a land so abounding in the romance of life, for all
the dull and commonplace realities of European existence."

"How hard to do so without leaving behind the heart that could feel such
ecstasies," murmured Olivia, with a half-raised eyelid, and a glance
that made Cashel flush with delight.

"How shall we ever make Ireland compensate you for quitting so lovely a
country!" said Mrs. Kennyfeck, with a smile rarely accorded to anything
lower than a viscount.

"We have a Mexican proverb, madam," said Cashel, gayly, "which says,
'Wherever the sun shines, bright eyes shine also.' But enough of these
tiresome memories, in which my egotism will always involve me. Shall we
have a fandango?"

"I don't know it; I never saw it danced."

"Well, the manolo, then."

"Nor that either," said both girls, laughing.

"Well, will you learn? I'll teach you the manolo. It's very simple. If
you 'll play the air, Miss Kennyfeck,--it runs thus." Here he opened the
pianoforte, and, after a few chords, struck with a masterly finger, he
played a little Spanish dance; but with a spirit of execution, and
in such an exciting character of time and measure, that a general
exclamation of delight broke from the whole room, Mr. Jones himself
forgetting all rivalry, and Mr. Softly laying down his newspaper
to listen, and for a moment carried away by the fascination of the
spirit-stirring melody.

"That is the manolo; come, now, and let me teach you, first the air, and
then the dance."

"Oh, I never could succeed to give it that character of bold and haughty
defiance it breathes from you," said Miss Kennyfeck.

"Nay, nay, a man's hand is always so rude and heavy, it needs the taper
finger of a lady,"--here Cashel bent, and kissed the hand he held,
but with such a deference and respect in the salute, that deprived the
action, so novel to our eyes, of any appearance of a liberty,--"of
a l