Count Pozaldez was a young lieutenant of cavalry, and my father's adjutant.

Of course we saw a good deal of one another, and he soon began to behave as if he were madly in love with me.

I was not averse to him, for he was young, handsome, and aristocratic.

And what else does a girl of sixteen look for?
I naturally had no difficulty in understanding his glances and his sighs, but it went on for months without his making me a formal proposal.

One day he wrote me a letter eight pages long, in which he informed me that, as he possessed nothing in the world but his sword, he dared not venture to lift his eyes to the heiress of the richest landowner in Old Castile; beside that, he was not worthy of me, only a king could be that--the wretch! But I will come back to that later on.