Christine was not offensively vain, but she was
passionately fond of admiration. Alfonso had never dreamed that Christine
was not genuine at heart. She appeared to him to make much of her
American acquaintance, introducing him to her many friends, young ladies
as well as young gentlemen, and always seemed to prefer his company to
others.
She manifested even tenderness for him, expressed her strong liking for
America, and Alfonso believed that Christine was truly fond of him. No
arguments or persuasions could have convinced him otherwise. The contrary
wishes of his own family, the eloquence of a Webster, winds from the
poles, all combined, could not have cooled his ardor. Alfonso had firmly
resolved to wed Christine, come what would.
He had often dreamed of her smiles, her pretty blue eyes, and her fleecy
hair floating in the breezes of the Zuider Zee. He had also dreamed of a
brilliant wedding in Holland, of a large reception at Harrisville, and
had even heard the plaudits of his fellow artists in New York, as they
lauded his master piece "Admiral De Ruyter's Great Naval Victory."
Fortified with these proofs of Christine's devotion, he sought the
company of his blond sweetheart on a balcony that overlooked the moon-lit
harbor of Amsterdam.
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