"I do not know what you mean. I could never be vexed by anything that such a sweet little person as you might say," replied the young man, with the lordly smile of a Sultan.

"I am glad it was a false alarm on my part. Many thanks for the compliment, if you mean it--which I doubt. It would grieve me to the heart to displease you in any way," and as she spoke she blushed up to her ears.

"But I hear you are very apt to be displeasing."

"Oh, no!"

"So my friend Ramon tells me."

Esperancita's countenance clouded, and a deep line marked her childlike brow.

"I do not know why he should say so."

"Your conscience does not p.r.i.c.k you?"

"Not in the least."

"What a heart of stone!"

"Why? If I have hurt his feelings it is his own fault."

"So I told him. But I believe his complaint is in a fair way to be cured, and that he will not again expose himself to your thrusts. He has been more cheerful and less absent-minded these last few days."

Castro was quite honestly doing his best for his friend.

"I should be only too glad to hear it," said the girl, with perfect simplicity.

Castro sang the praises of his friend and earnestly recommended him to Esperancita's good graces. But as he poured exaggerated eulogies into the girl's ear, his tone of disdain and the satirical smile which accompanied them somewhat weakened their effect. And even if it had not been so, she would have received them with no less hostility.

"Come, Pepe, you want to make a fool of me?"

"Indeed, Esperancita, Ramon has a great future before him, and in time may very likely be made Minister."

The hero in question, meanwhile, was explaining, with his usual fluency, to Mariana and her mother, how he had discovered an extensive fraud in the custom-house returns on imported meat: three hundred and fifty hams had been brought into the country, a few days since, smuggled in with the cognisance of some of the officials. Ramoncito meant to bring these men to justice without delay. Mariana implored him not to be too severe with them; they were perhaps fathers of families, but she could not mollify him. His sense of munic.i.p.al rights was more rigid perhaps than the muscles of his neck--to judge by the number of times he turned his head to look where Pepe and Esperancita were talking. He was not jealous; he had absolute confidence in his friend's loyalty; but he wanted his beloved to hear him when he brought out certain phrases: "To the bar of justice;" "I can no doubt obtain an adverse verdict;" "The munic.i.p.al law requires that they should be prosecuted," and so forth, so that the angel of his heart might fully appreciate the high destiny in store for her if she were united to so energetic an administrator.

They now heard steps in the adjoining room, and a cough which they all knew only too well. Dona Esperanza when she heard it hastily handed her work to her daughter, or, to be exact, crammed it into Mariana's hands.

When Calderon came in, his wife was st.i.tching with affected diligence, while her mother was sitting with her hands folded, as if she had not stirred from her att.i.tude for a long time. Ramon and Castro had scarcely noticed the manoeuvre. The reason of it was that Calderon could not forgive his wife her apathy and indolence, regarding these faults as positive calamities, and himself as most unfortunate for having married so inert a woman. Not that any work she might do mattered in the household; but his vehemently laborious temperament a.s.serted itself against one so diametrically opposed to it. Mariana's limpness and indifference irritated his nerves and gave rise to sharp discussions and frequent squabbles. She feebly defended herself, declaring that her parents had not brought her up to be a maid-of-all-work, since they had enough to allow her to live like a lady. Whereupon Don Julian would turn furious, and declare that it was the duty of every one to work, or at any rate to do something; that total idleness was incomprehensible; that it was a wife's duty to see that the property of the household was not wasted, even if she could not add to it, &c. &c. And, finally, that the mistress's incurable indolence was at the bottom of their domestic discomfort.

Dona Esperanza was very unlike her daughter; by nature she was active, vigilant, and at least as avaricious as her son-in-law; she could never sit a quarter of an hour without something to occupy her hands. In the affairs of the house, indeed, she played no important part, because Calderon took a pleasure in managing and ordering everything himself.

And this indicated a contradictory characteristic which must here be mentioned for a full comprehension of his character. He complained that his wife did not undertake the care of the house, and that he consequently was compelled to manage it, but at the same time, though he knew that his mother-in-law was both capable and willing, he would not leave it to her. This gave rise to a suspicion that, even if Mariana had been a prodigy of energy and method, he would no more have entrusted her with the management of domestic affairs than with his business. His suspicious and sordid nature made him prefer toil to rest; he would have liked to possess a hundred eyes to watch over everything that belonged to him. Dona Esperanza also lamented her daughter's incapacity, and eagerly seconded her son-in-law's stinginess, helping him very materially in his close vigilance. But while she herself found fault with Mariana's apathy, she was her mother after all; she hated that Calderon should blame her, and acutely felt their matrimonial differences. Consequently, whenever she could avert one she did so, even at the cost of some sacrifice, concealing Mariana's faults and voluntarily taking them on herself. It was for this reason that she had so precipitately handed to her the cushion she was embroidering.

Don Julian came into the room reading the _feuilleton_ of _La Correspondencia_, which he carefully preserved and st.i.tched together.

Don Julian, strange as it may seem, was very fond of novels; but he only read those which came out in the _Correspondencia_, or the religious tales he gave his daughter who was at school. He had never been known to go into a bookseller's of his own accord to buy one. And not only did he read them, but he was very p.r.o.ne to weep over them. He was deeply sentimental at the bottom of his heart; it was a weakness of his const.i.tution, like rheumatism or asthma. The misfortunes or poverty of others touched him greatly; if he could have remedied them by any means not involving any loss of money he would no doubt have done so at once.

Generous deeds made him shed tears of enthusiasm; but he thought himself incapable of doing them--and he was right. And he made great efforts to do violence to his instincts; he was by no means the least ready to give of the rich men of Madrid. He set aside a fixed sum for the poor, and entered it in his accounts as though they were his creditors. But when once the monthly allowance was spent, he might, perhaps, have left a poor wretch to die of hunger in the street and not have given him a penny; not for want of feeling, but by reason of the strong hold figures had over his mind. The idea of depriving himself of a peseta for any other form of outlay than buying to sell was beyond his ken. Thus far his almsgiving had superior merits to that of other men.

As he now entered the little morning-room his face betrayed traces of emotion. After greeting his visitors, he said, as he seated himself in an arm-chair:

"I have just read an exquisite chapter in this novel--quite exquisite! I could not resist the temptation of bringing it in to read to these ladies."

He paused, not daring to propose it to Castro and Maldonado, though he would have liked to do so. He was very fond of reading aloud, because he did it fairly well, and Mariana took pleasure in hearing him; so far they were well matched.

"Read it, by all means, my dear; I do not think that Pepe and Ramon will object," said his wife.

Pepe bowed slightly; Ramoncito hastened to express enthusiastic pleasure: he was devoted to fine pa.s.sages, &c. From the father of his inamorata he would have listened to the reading of a table of logarithms.

Don Julian wiped his spectacles, and, in a mild throat-voice which he kept for such occasions, began to read the episode describing the sufferings of a child lost in the streets of Paris. But his eyes instantly grew dim and his voice began to break, till at length he was so choked by emotion that he could scarcely be heard, and Ramon took the paper and read on to the end. Castro, looking on at this absurdity, hid a superior smile behind volumes of tobacco-smoke.

The chapter being ended, every one praised it in the most flattering terms. Mariana looked at her work, and observed that she would need a piece of silk for the lining, since the cushion was nearly finished.

Dona Esperanza, to whom she made the remark, was of the same opinion.

"Ramoncito," said she, "be so good as to ring that bell."

The young civilian hastened to comply, and the lady's maid immediately appeared.

"I want you to go out and buy me a yard of silk," said her mistress.

The girl, having taken her instructions, was about to depart on the errand, when Don Julian, who was listening, stopped her.

"Wait a moment," said he; "I will see if I do not happen to have the thing you want." And he briskly left the room. In three minutes he returned with an old umbrella in his hand.

"Do not you think the silk of this umbrella might serve your purpose?"

he said. "It seems to me to be just the colour."

Castro and Maldonado exchanged significant glances. Mariana blushed as she took the umbrella.

"It is, no doubt, the right colour," she said; "but it is full of holes; it will not do."

Esperancita pretended to be absorbed in her work, but her face was of the colour of a poppy. Dona Esperanza alone took up the question and discussed it seriously. Finally, the silk was rejected, to the chagrin of the banker, who muttered various uncomplimentary remarks on the management and economy of women.

Ramon, by this time, could no longer endure the torments of Tantalus, to which his friend's plans had condemned him; he never ceased gazing across to the spot where Pepe and Esperancita were chatting. He began by rising from his chair under pretence of moving about a little, and walked to and fro. By degrees he approached the couple, and stood still in front of them.

"Well, Esperancita, is it long since you saw Pacita?"

How absurd an excuse for addressing her! He himself was conscious of it, and blushed as he spoke. Pepe flashed an indignant glance at him, but either he did not see it, or he pretended not to see it. The girl frowned, and replied, shortly, that she did not exactly recollect. This would have been enough for most people, but Ramon would not take an answer; on the contrary, he tried to prolong the conversation with vacuous or irrelevant remarks, and even tried to wedge a chair in between them and sit down; but Castro hindered him by covertly giving him a fiercely expressive stamp on the toes, which brought him to his senses. He continued his melancholy walk till, presently, he went back to his seat by the two elder ladies. He was soon engaged in an animated discussion with Calderon as to whether the paving of the streets should be done by contract or managed by a commission. He would have been only too glad to agree with his host; it was his interest to do so, since his happiness or misery lay in his hands, but the obstinate and fractious temper which Nature had bestowed on him led him to continue the argument, though he saw that Calderon was heated, and within an ace of being angry. Fortunately for him, before this point was reached, a servant entered the room.

"What is it, Remigio?" asked the banker.

"A man, Senor--a friend of Pardo's--Senor Mudela's coachman--has come to say that Senorito Leandro is not very well."

"Bless me! What has happened to the boy? He is not accustomed to such dissipation. He has spent all his life at school or tied to his mother's ap.r.o.n-string. He must be taken away from this life of excitement.--And what is the matter with him?"

Leandro was Don Julian's nephew, the son of a sister who lived in La Mancha. He had come to pay a visit to Madrid, and was leading a very jolly life in the society of other youths of his own age. He had begged his uncle to lend him his carriage for an excursion into the country.

Don Julian, anxious not to offend his sister, to whom it was his interest to be civil, had granted the favour, though sorely against the grain.

"The sun and the dinner have upset him a little."

"Pooh! an attack of indigestion. He will get over that!"