I only ask for one more day to be together, before we part." The poor old duenna drew back out of sight, in the shadow of a curtain--and began to cry.

Carmina took her hand, under cover of a tablecloth; Carmina knew how to console her.

"We will go and see sights," she whispered "and, when dinner-time comes, you shall have a glass of the Porto-porto-wine." Teresa looked round out of the shadow, as easily comforted as a child.
"Sights!" she exclaimed--and dried her tears.

"Porto-porto-wine!" she repeated--and smacked her withered lips at the relishing words.

"Ah, my child, you have not forgotten the consolations I told you of, when I lived in London in my young days.