This was regarded as a final happy hit, and the subject was dropped.

From talking of the sun they came to talking of the shade, and of the shade of poisonous trees. The Marquesa de Ujo asked Lola's husband, the Mexican, whose name was Ballesteros, whether the manchineel were a native of his country. He replied that it was not, but that he had seen it growing in Brazil. The lady inquired very particularly into its properties, but she was greatly disenchanted on hearing that the shade of the tree was not pernicious, and that it was only the acrid juice of the fruit which was poisonous.

"So that you do not die if you fall asleep under it?"

"Senora, I did not fall asleep, don't you see? But I breakfasted under one with a party of friends, and we were none the worse."

"Well, then, how does Selika commit suicide in the _Africaine_ by lying down in the shade of a manchineel?"

"It is a fable, an invention of the poet's. It is a pretty idea but not true."

The Marquesa, quite disappointed by this realistic view of the matter, refused altogether to accept it, and argued that possibly the manchineels of India were not the same as the American kind.

"Is it true, Ballesteros," asked Clementina, "that you have eight hundred thousand cows?"

"Oh, Senora, that is an exaggeration! My herds number three hundred thousand at most."

"If they were mine," said Fuentes, "I would build a tank as large as the Retiro Gardens, and fill it with milk and sail a boat on it."

"We make no use of the milk, Senor, nor of the b.u.t.ter. We sometimes dry the meat for exportation, don't you see? But generally we only save the skin. And the horns also are sold for various forms of manufacture."

"Plague take him for a bore!" said Pepe Castro in a low voice, but loud enough for Jimenez Arbos to hear where he sat by Pepa Frias, who was taken with a fit of laughter which she had the greatest difficulty in choking down.

She addressed herself to Clementina to conceal her mirth as far as possible:

"Pa.s.s me the mustard, there's a trump," said she.

"Trump, trump? What is a trump?" asked the Baroness de Rag, in her eagerness to learn the language, and Osorio explained the use of the word.

Pepa addressed herself from time to time to Jimenez Arbos; a few brief sentences in a low tone, which showed that they were on intimate terms, and at the same time revealed a desire to be prudent. Her conversation with Castro on her left was more animated.

"Why don't you advise Arbos to eat more meat?" he asked her.

"Why should I?"

"Because he ought to eat meat to give him strength to endure the fatigues of daily life."

"To be sure," said the widow, sarcastically. "But do you take care of yourself and leave others to settle their own affairs as Providence may guide them."

"Well, you see I manage to get fed."

"Yes, but do not let it go to your brain, or one fine day, when you least expect it, you may find yourself without a dinner."

"Have I offended you?" said the young man, laughing as if he had heard something very amusing.

"No, my dear fellow, no. I mean what I say. For my part I cannot think how Clementina can bear such a Narcissus as you."

"Hush! hush! Be careful, Pepa, pray be careful!" cried Castro, with an alarmed glance at the mistress of the house.

"Do you know she is wonderfully artful. She has not looked at you once."

Castro, who had been a good deal piqued these few days past by his lady's coldness, smiled a forced smile and then knit his brows. Pepa did not fail to observe this.

"Look at the black cloud on Osorio's face; it is enough to frighten one!

And you are the guilty cause of it, you wretch!"

"I! Oh, dear no! It is more likely to be some question of ready money which makes him look so bilious. I hear he is ruined, or within an ace of it."

Pepa started visibly.

"Who says so? Where did you hear that?"

"Several persons have told me so."

The widow turned sharply to Arbos on her other hand, and asked him in a whisper:

"Have you heard anything about Osorio's being ruined?"

"Yes, I have heard it said that Osorio has for some time been buying for a fall, and the market has gone up steadily," replied the official, with a toss of his head suggesting a peac.o.c.k, and there was a touch of evident satisfaction in his tone. To a politician, buying for a fall is a crime worthy of any punishment. "I do not know how much he may be let in for at the next account; but if it is anything considerable, he is a ruined man. Consols have gone up one per cent., by the end of the month they may have risen to two."

Pepa's good spirits had entirely disappeared. She sat looking at her plate and listlessly using her fork to finish the slice of York ham she had taken. The Minister, observing her gloomy silence, asked her:

"Have you by any chance any money in his hands?"

"By chance! No, by my own idiocy. Almost everything I possess is in his hands."

"The devil it is!"

"Everything I have eaten has turned on my stomach; I believe I am going to be ill," said the lady, who was as pale as a sheet.

Arbos did his best to tranquillise her; perhaps it was not true: sudden losses, like sudden fortunes, are always greatly exaggerated. Besides, if any deposit were sacred to Osorio, it would surely be that of a lady who had entrusted her money to him out of pure friendship.

Though they were talking almost in a whisper, their grave looks and earnest manner attracted the notice of General Patino, who, turning to the Marquesa de Ujo, said with singular perspicacity:

"Just look at Pepa and Arbos, a summer cloud has fallen on them. Love is a beautiful thing even in its transient torments!"

Clementina meanwhile, with Lola and the Condera de Cotorraso, had been discussing the effects of a.r.s.enic as a drug for beautifying the complexion and skin. It was the first time Lola had heard of it, and she was quite delighted, declaring that she would forthwith try this miraculous elixir.

"Good heavens, Lolita!" exclaimed Fuentes, "if, as you are, you cause such havoc in masculine hearts, what will happen after you have followed a regimen of a.r.s.enic for a few months? Senor Ballesteros, do not permit her to take it; it is too cruel to the rest of us."

"Come, come, friend Fuentes," said the pretty brunette, casting an insinuating glance at Castro, for she had taken it into her head that she would s.n.a.t.c.h him from Clementina, "are you trying to chaff me?"

"Chaff, what is chaff?" the Baroness de Rag asked again.

Bonifacio had for some moments been staring, without winking even, at the Belgian lady. A few days since he had purchased a photograph of a figure lounging in a hammock. He fancied that the Baroness strongly resembled this picture, and was anxious to convince himself by a prolonged study of what he could see whether what he could not see was equally like it.

The dinner could not end of course without a long discussion of the opera, Gayarre and Tosti. Otherwise the meal could not have been digested. The coffee was served in the dining-room, as was the custom of the house. Then the ladies withdrew to the drawing-room, followed by several of the men; others remained to smoke, but it was not long before they joined the others. The dining-room was intolerably hot.

Pepe Castro took advantage of the little stir as they left the dining-room to ask Clementina: