He had been forced to speak of politics and business, and every such word was just so many stolen from far sweeter words--words that fell like music from his lips, and were repeated with infinite power from his eyes.

Low words, that had the pleading of a thousand voices in them; words full of melody, thrilling with romance; poetical, and yet real as the sunshine around them.
In lovers of a colder race, bound by conventional ties, and a dress rigorously divested of every picturesque element, such wooing might have appeared ridiculous; but in Don Luis, the most natural thing about it was its extravagance.

When he knelt at the feet of his beloved and kissed her hands, the action was the unavoidable outcome of his temperament.

When he said to her, "Angel mio! you are the light of my darkness, the perfume of all flowers that bloom for me, the love of my loves, my life, my youth, my lyre, my star, had I a thousand souls with which to love, I would give them all to you!" he believed every word he uttered, and he uttered every word with the passion of a believer.
He stirred into life also in the heart of Isabel a love as living as his own.

In that hour she stepped outside all of her childhood's immaturities.