What
was the astonishment of the latter to behold in this grand cavalier
his old friend Lope Sanchez, who was actually celebrating the marriage
of his daughter Sanchica with one of the first grandees in the land.
The carriage contained the bridal party. There was Dame Sanchez, now
grown as round as a barrel, and dressed out with feathers and
jewels, and necklaces of pearls, and necklaces of diamonds, and
rings on every finger, altogether a finery of apparel that had not
been seen since the days of Queen Sheba. The little Sanchica had now
grown to be a woman, and for grace and beauty might have been mistaken
for a duchess, if not a princess outright. The bridegroom sat beside
her- rather a withered spindle-shanked little man, but this only
proved him to be of the true-blue blood, a legitimate Spanish
grandee being rarely above three cubits in stature. The match had been
of the mother's making.
Riches had not spoiled the heart of honest Lope. He kept his old
comrade with him for several days; feasted him like a king, took him
to plays and bull-fights, and at length sent him away rejoicing,
with a big bag of money for himself, and another to be distributed
among his ancient messmates of the Alhambra.
Lope always gave out that a rich brother had died in America and
left him heir to a copper mine; but the shrewd gossips of the Alhambra
insist that his wealth was all derived from his having discovered
the secret guarded by the two marble nymphs of the Alhambra.
Pages:
393
394
395
396
397
398
399
400
401
402
403
404
405
406
407
408
409
410
411
412
413
414
415
416
417