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The Devotion of Enriquez
by
With this added discovery came that sense of uneasiness and indignation with which we illogically are apt to resent the withholding of a friend’s confidence, even in matters concerning only himself. It was no use for me to reason that it was no business of mine, that he was right in keeping a secret that concerned another–and a lady; but I was afraid I was even more meanly resentful because the discovery quite upset my theory of his conduct and of Miss Mannersley’s attitude toward him. I continued to walk on to the gateway, where I bade Enriquez a hurried good-by, alleging the sudden remembrance of another engagement, but without appearing to recognize the girl, who was moving away when, to my further discomfiture, the rascal stopped me with an appealing wink, threw his arms around my neck, whispered hoarsely in my ear, “Ah! you see–you comprehend–but you are the mirror of discretion!” and returned to Jocasta. But whether this meant that he had received a message from Miss Mannersley, or that he was trying to suborn her maid to carry one, was still uncertain. He was capable of either. During the next two or three weeks I saw him frequently; but as I had resolved to try the effect of ignoring Miss Mannersley in our conversation, I gathered little further of their relations, and, to my surprise, after one or two characteristic extravagances of allusion, Enriquez dropped the subject, too. Only one afternoon, as we were parting, he said carelessly: “My friend, you are going to the casa of Mannersley tonight. I too have the honor of the invitation. But you will be my Mercury–my Leporello–you will take of me a message to thees Mees Boston, that I am crushed, desolated, prostrate, and flabbergasted–that I cannot arrive, for I have of that night to sit up with the grand-aunt of my brother- in-law, who has a quinsy to the death. It is sad.”
This was the first indication I had received of Miss Mannersley’s advances. I was equally surprised at Enriquez’ refusal.
“Nonsense!” I said bluntly. “Nothing keeps you from going.”
“My friend,” returned Enriquez, with a sudden lapse into languish- ment that seemed to make him absolutely infirm, “it is everything that shall restrain me. I am not strong. I shall become weak of the knee and tremble under the eye of Mees Boston. I shall precipitate myself to the geologian by the throat. Ask me another conundrum that shall be easy.”
He seemed idiotically inflexible, and did not go. But I did. I found Miss Mannersley exquisitely dressed and looking singularly animated and pretty. The lambent glow of her inscrutable eye as she turned toward me might have been flattering but for my uneasiness in regard to Enriquez. I delivered his excuses as naturally as I could. She stiffened for an instant, and seemed an inch higher. “I am so sorry,” she said at last in a level voice. “I thought he would have been so amusing. Indeed, I had hoped we might try an old Moorish dance together which I have found and was practicing.”
“He would have been delighted, I know. It’s a great pity he didn’t come with me,” I said quickly; “but,” I could not help adding, with emphasis on her words, “he is such an ‘extraordinary creature,’ you know.”
“I see nothing extraordinary in his devotion to an aged relative,” returned Miss Mannersley quietly as she turned away, “except that it justifies my respect for his character.”
I do not know why I did not relate this to him. Possibly I had given up trying to understand them; perhaps I was beginning to have an idea that he could take care of himself. But I was somewhat surprised a few days later when, after asking me to go with him to a rodeo at his uncle’s he added composedly, “You will meet Mees Boston.”