"If I deserve it, he will. I would rather have a blow or two from my Cosme than the scorn of a fine gentleman--so there!"

"That's what I like to hear; take a lesson, take a lesson, girls," said Pablito.

CHAPTER IX

A CHANGE OF HEART

Gonzalo, after talking for some time with his bride-elect, left his seat, took three or four turns up and down the room, and seated himself by the side of Venturita, with whom he was always on good terms, for they liked laughing and joking together after they had once become friendly. The girl was drawing some letters preparatory to embroidering them.

"Don't come teasing here, Gonzalo; you know how badly I draw," she said, while the look that she gave the youth was so flashing and provocative that it made him drop his eyes.

"I am not so sure of that. You don't draw badly," he replied in a low voice that slightly trembled, as he bent his face down to the paper which Venturita had on her lap.

"Pure flattery. You will acknowledge that it might be better."

"Better--better--everything in the world might be better. This is good enough."

"You are getting quite a flatterer. I don't want you to make fun of me, do you hear?"

"I don't make fun of anybody, much less of you," he returned, without raising his eyes from the paper, and with his voice lower every minute, and evidently agitated. Venturita kept her eyes fixed upon him with a mocking expression, in which the triumph of satisfied pride was plainly visible.

"Come, then, you draw them, Mr. Clever," she said, as she pa.s.sed him the pencil and paper with gracious condescension.

The youth acceded to the suggestion, as he ventured to raise his eyes to the girl's, but he quickly dropped them as if he feared their magnetism.

He took the book from her lap on to his knee, put a piece of white paper on it, and proceeded to draw.

But instead of the letters, he began to sketch, with some skill, the head of a woman; first the hair parted in two braids, then the straight, pretty forehead, then a delicate nose, a pretty, short chin joined to the throat by a soft, graceful curve. It was wonderfully like Venturita.

The girl, leaning on the shoulder of her future brother, followed the movements of the pencil, and a vain smile gradually overspread her face.

After drawing the head Gonzalo proceeded to delineate the figure, and the peignoir, or dressing-gown, worn by the girl was soon reproduced; but he took some time drawing minutely the silk bows with which it was fastened in front. When the picture was finished, Venturita asked him in a mischievous tone:

"Now put underneath who it is."

The young man raised his head and their smiling eyes met. Then, quickly and decisively, he wrote under the drawing:

"The one I love best in all the world."

Venturita took the paper in her hands and looked at it with delight for some moments; then, with a pout of a.s.sumed disdain, she gave it back to him, saying:

"Take it, take it, you rude fellow."

But before it reached Gonzalo's hands Cecilia stretched out hers and s.n.a.t.c.hed it from him laughingly, saying:

"What papers are these?"

Then Venturita sprang from her seat, as if she had been stung, and caught hold of her sister's hand.

"Give it up, give it up, Cecilia! Let go!" she cried, with her face aflame and distorted with a forced smile.

"No, I want to see it."

"You shall see it afterward; let go!"

"I want to see it now."

"Let be, child; let her see it. What does it signify to you?" said Dona Paula.

"I don't like anything being taken from me by force," Venturita cried, turning serious. Then realizing that she was losing ground, she resumed her smile, saying:

"Come, Cecilia, let go; don't be disagreeable."

"Don't make such a fuss! Let go yourself; you are hurting me."

"Who are you to s.n.a.t.c.h the paper from my hand?" she returned, and really in a rage. "Let go, let go, you ugly thing, you parrot nose, you fool!

Let go or I will scratch you," she added, with her eyes flashing and her face distorted with rage.

Seeing her like this, the smile that had suffused Cecilia's face suddenly left it, and opening her large eyes, full of surprise, she exclaimed:

"Goodness, you seem mad, child. Take it, take it; I don't want it."

So she gave up the paper, which was crumpled in her hand, and Venturita, with her face still distorted with rage, tore it into a thousand pieces.

"In all the days of my life I never saw such a mad creature!" exclaimed Dona Paula in amazement. "Ave Maria! Ave Marie! Wherever did you get such a bad temper from, child?"

"It would be from you," replied Venturita sulkily, without looking at anybody.

"You shameless girl! If it were not for folk being here! How dare you answer your mother like that? Don't you know the commandment of the law of G.o.d? I will take you to-morrow to confess to Don Aquilino."

"Very well; give my regards to Don Aquilino."

"Wait a bit, wait a bit, you bad girl!" cried the senora, making as though she would rise to chastise her daughter.

But at that instant the figure of Don Rosendo, in his many colored dressing gown and silk ta.s.seled velvet cap, appeared at the door.

"What is the matter?" he asked with surprise at the sight of his wife's excited state.

Suffocated with sobs, Dona Paula then proceeded to give him an account of his daughter's want of respect.

Don Rosendo thought it behooved him to frown severely and say in a solemn tone:

"You have behaved badly, Ventura; go and ask your mother's pardon."

We know that he was absent-minded, always absorbed in some idea, so this domestic episode only partially roused him from his preoccupation.

Nevertheless, seeing his child obstinate, supercilious, and angry, he repeated his command with greater firmness.

"Come, daughter, go and ask your mother's pardon, seeing that you have been rude to her."