The cook, in some dismay at this prompt dismissal, again stood rooted to the spot; but, suddenly recovering himself, he turned on his heel, saying with dignity:

"Very well, Senora, I will."

But when he was gone Clementina still muttered: "An insolent fellow is that Gallician! I don't believe any one but I gets such servants!"

Then, suddenly pacified by a new idea, she said:

"Come, now, I must dress; it is getting late."

She went into her dressing-room, followed by Estefania, who, contrary to what might have been expected, looked grave and gloomy. Clementina hurriedly began to remove her walking-dress and change it for a simple dinner-dress, such as she wore at home to receive a few friends in the evening--always very light in hue, and cut open at the throat, though with long sleeves. At a sign from the mistress the maid brought out a "crushed-strawberry" pink dress from the large wardrobe with mirrors, which lined all one side of the room. Before putting it on she arranged her hair, and exchanged her bronze kid boots for shoes to match the dress. The pale girl meanwhile never opened her lips; her face grew every moment sadder and more anxious. At last, on her knees to put on her mistress's shoes, she raised beseeching eyes to her face and said timidly:

"Senora, may I entreat you--not to send Cayetano away?"

Clementina looked at her in amazement.

"Is that it? After you yourself----"

"The thing is," said Estefania, turning as red as her complexion would allow, "if you send him away the others will take offence."

"And what does that matter?"

But the girl insisted very earnestly with urgent and persuasive entreaties. For a time the lady refused, but as the matter was unimportant, and she perceived, not without surprise, the interest and even anxiety of her favourite for the cook's reprieve, she presently yielded, desiring Estefania to make the necessary explanations. On this the girl's face immediately cleared; she was as bright as a bird, and began to help her mistress to dress very deftly and briskly.

Two taps at the door made them both start.

"Who is there?" called the lady.

"Are you dressing, Clementina?" was asked from outside.

It was her husband's voice. Her surprise was not the less; Osorio very rarely came to her rooms when she was alone.

"Yes, I am dressing. Is there any one downstairs?"

"As usual--Lola, Pascuala and Bonifacio. I want to speak to you. I will wait for you here in the drawing-room."

"Very well; I will come."

Until her toilet was complete Clementina spoke no more; her expression was one of gloomy antic.i.p.ation, which her maid could not fail to observe. Her fingers, as she gave the last touches to the folds of her skirt, trembled a little, like those of a young lady dressing for her first ball.

Osorio was, in fact, waiting for her in the little drawing-room beyond the boudoir. He was lounging at his ease in an arm-chair, but, on seeing his wife, he rose, and dropped the end of the cigar he was smoking into the spittoon. Clementina saw that he was paler than usual. He was the same neat and dapper little man, with a bad complexion, as when he had married; but in the course of these twelve years his temper had been greatly spoiled. He had many wrinkles on his face, his hair and beard were streaked with grey, and his eyes had lost their brightness. He closed the door which his wife had left open, and going up to her said, with affected ease: "My cashier handed me to-day a cheque from you, for fifteen thousand pesetas. Here it is."

He took out his pocket-book, and from it a half-sheet of scented satin paper which he held out to her. She looked at it for a moment with a grave and gloomy face, but did not wince. She said not a word.

"A fortnight ago he gave me one for nine thousand. Here it is." The same proceedings, the same silence.

"Last month there were three: one for six thousand, one for eleven thousand, and one for four thousand. Here they are."

Osorio flourished the handful of papers before his wife's eyes; then, as this did not unlock her lips, he asked: "Do you acknowledge it?"

"Acknowledge what?" she said, shortly.

"That these doc.u.ments are correct."

"They are, no doubt, if they bear my signature. I have a bad memory, especially for money matters."

"A happy gift," he replied with an ironical smile, as he went through the papers in his pocket-book. "I, too, have often tried to forget them.

Unfortunately my cashier makes it his business to refresh my memory.

Well," he went on as his wife said no more, "I came up solely to ask you a question--namely: Do you suppose that things can go on like this?"

"I do not understand."

"I will explain. Do you suppose that you can go on drawing on my account every few days such sums as these?"

Clementina, who had been pale at first, had coloured crimson.

"You know better than I."

"Why better? You ought to know the amount of your fortune."

"Well, but I do not know," she replied, sharply.

"Nothing can be more simple. The six hundred thousand dollars which your father paid over when we were married, being invested in real estate, produce, as you may see by the books, about twenty-two thousand dollars a year. The expenses of the house, without counting my private outlay, amounts to about three times as much. You can surely draw your own conclusions."

"If you are vexed at your money being spent you can sell the houses,"

said Clementina with scornful brevity, her colour fading to paleness again.

"But if they were sold I should none the less be responsible for the whole value. You know that?"

"I will sign you any paper you like, saying that I hold you responsible for nothing."

"That is not enough, my dear. The law will never release me from responsibility for your fortune, so long as I have any money. Moreover, if you spend it in pleasure"--and he emphasised the word--"it may be all very well for you, but deplorable for me, because I shall still be compelled to supply you with--necessaries."

"To keep me, in short?" she said with a bitter intonation.

"I wished to avoid the word; but it is no doubt exact."

Osorio spoke in an impertinent and patronising tone, which piqued his wife's pride in every possible way. Ever since the violent differences which had led to their separation under the same roof, they had had no such important interview as this. When, in the course of daily life, they came into collision, matters were smoothed over with a short explanation, in which both parties, without compromising their pride, used some prudence for fear of a scandal. But the present question touched Osorio in a vital part. To a banker money is the chief fact in life.

His personal pride, too, had suffered greatly in the last few years, though he had not confessed it. It was not enough to feign indifference and disdain of his wife's misconduct; it was not enough to pay her back in her own coin, by flaunting his mistresses in her face and making a parade of them in public. Both fought with the same weapons, but a woman can inflict with them far deeper wounds than a man. The misery he suffered from his wife's disreputable life did not diminish as time went on; the gulf which parted them grew wider and deeper. And so revenge was ready to seize this opportunity by the forelock.

Clementina looked him in the face for a moment. Then, shrugging her shoulders and with a contemptuous curl of her lips, she turned on her heel and was about to leave the room. Osorio stepped forward between her and the door.

"Before you go you must understand that the cashier has my orders to pay you no cheques that do not bear my signature."

"I understand."

"For your regular expenses I will allow a fixed sum on which we will agree. But I can have no more surprises on the cash-box."