"I am going back to my girlhood," said she to herself, and she smiled.

And it amused her to study her own feelings. She was happy in this return to the guileless agitations of her early youth.

She was so absorbed in her meditations, that on reaching the Fountain of Cybele, instead of going down the Calle de Alcala, to go to Pepe Castro, with whom she had an appointment, she turned about, as though she had merely come for a walk. When she perceived it she stood still, hesitating; finally she confessed to herself that she had no great wish to keep the engagement.

"I will go to see mamma," thought she. "It is days since I spent an hour with her, poor thing."

And she went on towards the Avenue de Luchana. She was in the happiest mood. An organ was grinding out the drinking-song from _Lucrezia Borgia_, and she stopped to listen to it; she who was bored at the Opera by the most famous contralto! But music is the language of heaven, and can only be understood when heaven has found a way into our heart.

Coming towards her, down the Avenue de Recoletos, was Pinedo, the remarkable personage who lived with one foot in the aristocratic world and the other in the half-official world to which he really belonged. By his side was a pretty young girl, no doubt his daughter, who was unknown to Clementina: for Pinedo kept her out of the society he frequented, and hid her as carefully as Triboulet hid his. The Senora de Osorio had always treated Pinedo with some haughtiness, which, as we know, was not unusual with her. But at this moment her happy frame of mind made her expansive, and as Pinedo was pa.s.sing her with his usual ceremonious bow, the lady stopped him, and addressed him, smiling:

"You, my friend, are a practical man; you too, I see, take advantage of these morning hours to breathe the fresh air and take a bath of sunshine."

Pinedo, against both his nature and habit, was somewhat out of countenance, perhaps because he had no wish to introduce his daughter to this very smart lady. However, he replied at once, with a gallant bow:

"And to take my chance of such unpleasing meetings as this one."

Clementina smiled graciously.

"You ought not to pay compliments even indirectly, with such a pretty young lady by your side? Is she your daughter?"

"Yes, Senora--Senora de Osorio," he added, turning to the girl, who coloured with pleasure at hearing herself called pretty by this lady whom she knew well by sight and by name. She was herself pale and slender, with an olive complexion, small well-cut features, and soft merry eyes.

"I had heard that you had a very sweet daughter, but I see that reputation has not done her justice."

She blushed deeper than ever, and faintly murmured her thanks.

"Come, Clementina, do not go on or she will begin to believe you. This lady, Pilar," he continued to his daughter, "takes as much delight in telling pleasant fibs as others do in telling unpleasant truths."

"She is, I see, most amiable," said Pilar.

"Do not believe him. Any one can see how pretty you are."

"Oh, Senora----"

"And tell me, tyrant father, why do you not give her a little more amus.e.m.e.nt? Do you think that you have any right to be seen at every theatre, ball and evening party, while you keep this sweet child under lock and key? or do you fancy we care more about seeing you than her?"

Poor Pinedo felt a pang which he tried to hide; Clementina had laid a frivolous finger on the tenderest spot in his heart. His salary, as we know, allowed him to live but very modestly; if he went into a cla.s.s of society which was somewhat above him, it was solely to secure his tenure of an office which was the sole means of sustenance for himself and his child. She knew nothing of this. Pinedo hoped to be able to marry her to some respectable and hardworking man; she was never to see the world in which she could not live, and which he himself despised with all his heart, although from sheer force of habit perhaps he could not have lived contentedly in any other.

"She is still very young; she has time before her," he said, with a forced smile.

"Pooh, nonsense! I tell you, you are very selfish. How long is it since you were at the Valpardos?" she went on to change the subject.

"I was there on Monday; the Condesa asked much after you, and lamented that you had quite deserted her."

"Poor Anita! It is very true."

Pinedo and Clementina then plunged into an animated and endless discussion of the Valpardos and their parties. Pilar listened at first with attention; but as the greater number of the persons named were not known to her, she presently amused herself with looking about her, more especially at the few pa.s.sers-by who were to be seen there at that early hour.

"Papa," said she, taking advantage of a pause, "here comes that young friend of yours who maintains his mother and sisters."

Clementina and Pinedo looked round both at once, and saw Rafael Alcantara approaching--the scapegrace youth whom we met in the Savage Club.

"Who maintains his mother and sisters?" echoed Clementina, much surprised.

"Yes, a very good young man, and a friend of papa's, called Rafael Alcantara."

The lady looked inquiringly at Pinedo, who gave her an expressive glance. Not knowing what it could mean, but supposing that her friend for some reason did not wish her to speak of Alcantara as he deserved, she held her tongue. The young man as he pa.s.sed them greeted them half respectfully, half familiarly. Pinedo immediately held out his hand to take leave.

"This is Sat.u.r.day you remember," said the lady. "Are you coming to dinner?"

"With much pleasure. My regards to Osorio."

"And bring this dear little girl with you."

"We will see, we will see," replied the official again, much embarra.s.sed. "If I cannot manage it to-day, some other time."

"You must manage it, tyrant father. _Au revoir_ then, my dear."

She took the girl by the chin, and kissed her on both cheeks, saying as she did so: "I have long wished to make your acquaintance. I sadly want some nice pretty girls in my drawing-room."

And as she walked on, in better spirits than ever, she said to herself: "What on earth can Pinedo be driving at by making a saint of that good-for-nothing Alcantara?"

With a light step, a colour in her cheeks, and her eyes sparkling as they had done in her girlhood, she soon reached the gate of the large garden in which her father's house stood. The porter hastened to open it and rang the house-bell. She went in, and, contrary to her usual custom, she smiled at the two servants in livery, who awaited her at the top of the stairs. She went by them in silence, and straight on to her stepmother's rooms, like one who has long been familiar with the place.

The Duquesa at that moment was in council with the medical director of an asylum for aged women which she had founded some time since in concert with some other ladies. When the curtain was lifted and her stepdaughter appeared she smiled affectionately.

"It is you, Clementina! Come in, my child, come in."

Clementina's heart swelled as she saw her mother's pale, thin face. She hastened to her and kissed her effusively.

"Are you pretty well, mamma? How did you sleep?"

"Very well. But I look ill, don't I?"

"Oh, no," her daughter hastily a.s.sured her.

"Yes, yes. I saw it in the gla.s.s. But I feel well, only so miserably weak; and, as I have completely lost my appet.i.te, I cannot get any stronger.--Then, as I understand, Yradier," she went on to the doctor, who was standing in front of her, "you undertake to look after the servants and the sick women, so that there may be no lack of due consideration for the poor old things?"

The doctor was a pleasant-looking young man with an intelligent countenance.

"Senora Duquesa," said he with decision, "I will do everything in my power to prevent the pensioners having any complaints to make; but at the same time, I must warn you that some may still reach your ears. You cannot imagine the vexatiousness and spite of which some women are capable. Without any cause whatever, simply to insult me and my colleagues, they are capable of heaping insolence on us. And the more attention we show them, the more airs they give themselves. I taste their broth and their chocolate every day, and I have never found it bad, as that old woman declared it to be. The hours are fixed and I have never known the meals to be late. If you will make inquiries you will convince yourself that the persons who have ground for complaint are the poor servants, whom the old women treat shamefully."

The doctor had become quite excited and spoke these words in a tone of conviction.

The lady smiled gently.

"I believe you, I believe you, Yradier. Old women are very apt to be troublesome."