And now what did she hear in a note from the Captain himself, sent to make excuses for not having called upon her after the supper party, but that Dirk was going to dine with him that night?
Very well, let him do it; she would know how to pay him back, and if necessary was ready to act up to any situation which he had chosen to create.
Thus thought Lysbeth, stamping her foot with vexation, but all the time her heart was sore.

All the time she knew well enough that she loved Dirk, and, however strange might be his backwardness in speaking out his mind, that he loved her.

And yet she felt as though a river was running between them.

In the beginning it had been a streamlet, but now it was growing to a torrent.

Worse still the Spaniard was upon her bank of the river.
After he had to some extent conquered his shyness and irritation Dirk became aware that he was really enjoying his dinner at Montalvo's quarters.