Don Cristobal hid his amus.e.m.e.nt under a fit of coughing, and Manuel Antonio and the young people laughed heartily.

"Paniagua was a very remarkable man," continued Paco. "He was endowed with a decision of character befitting soldiers. The day that he arrived, he saw Nuncia at the window in the morning, and in the evening he managed to give her, in the portico of San Rafael after _nones_, a letter of declaration which ran thus:

"'Senorita, in confusion and fear and doubting if in your kind condescension you will pardon my boldness, I confess that my only joy is in loving you.'"

"Oh! you rogue! what a memory you have!" exclaimed Nuncita, now fairly overcome.

The fact was, Paco, to whom, after many entreaties, "the child" had shown the letters she had kept of Paniagua's, learnt the original doc.u.ment by heart and recited it everywhere to the great delight of his friends.

"He was what may be called a resolute man. The character of a person is shown like that. How different to the soldiers of the present day, who before proposing to a girl, dangle about for a whole year and then delay saying: 'Child, when shall we go to church?'"

These words were uttered with a look at the corner, where Emilita and the captain were sitting. The latter took the remark and became serious, and the girl tried to look unconscious although grateful in her heart to Paco for giving the hint; whilst the Pensioner twisted his moustache with a trembling hand, fearing that Nunez would take offence, but glad with the hope that these opportune allusions would bring him to the point.

Tired of conversation, the young people proposed a game of forfeits. It is a game which wide-awake men always turn to their own advantage.

Fernanda let Garnet sit by her side. She was vexed at the winks and signs of Paco that she had noticed. She was a very proud creature, but she prided herself on her sense of justice. She could not bear anybody to be made fun of in her presence, even if it were the lowest, most insignificant being. Maybe the sense of pride, which was one of her tenderest and most touchy points, made her alive to the wounds inflicted on that of others. Although she hated Garnet, she was sorry to see him made an object of derision, particularly as she was the cause; but this did not prevent her treating him with overbearing airs herself; but it is thought, and not without reason, that although the rebuffs of the lady one loves may inflict misery, they do not sting like practical jokes. The Indian, seeing himself so honoured, was beside himself with delight, and set to overwhelming her as usual with a thousand attentions. Fernanda accepted them with a grave demeanour, but not with repugnance. Then came as usual that game of "three times yes, and three times no," the favourite of all present. Thus Society amused itself with what had entertained its fathers and grandfathers, and with what they thought would amuse their children. Innocent people! There was one spirit there to whom this attribute did not apply. Paco played with the peevish condescension, of a man in advance of his time, making many stupid mistakes, which showed the inattention characteristic of superior beings. Nunez, on the contrary, was all there. Never was a man more at home in such matters, nor one who entered into them more thoroughly. His bright intelligence had penetrated all the secrets of the game of forfeits, and he knew how to get the best out of everybody according to the circ.u.mstances in question. For example, when a young lady had to whisper to him, he instantly became deaf, and the girl was obliged to bend more and more until her ruddy lips brushed the ear of the captain.

If he were condemned to represent the paper corner of the Puerta del Sol and consequently had to have pieces of paper stuck on his face, &c. &c., the wily Nunez did not guess who it was doing it until he had pa.s.sed his hands over the girl.

But he gave the clearest demonstration of his portentous talent and the vast knowledge he had acquired in this department of science, when he proposed that the senorita, to whom he would tell what she had in her pocket, would have to kiss him. The young ladies were all so sure that he would not be successful that they willingly accepted the condition.

He was certainly wrong in his attempt at guessing the contents of the pocket of Carmelita, wrong again with Fernanda, with Maria Josefa, with Micaela, but see, what a sly rogue! he knew exactly what was in Emilita's: some scissors, a handkerchief, a thimble, and three caramels.

The girl began to groan and clasp her hands in a state of nervous collapse. "It was a trap! a trap!" The captain serene, unperturbed, and dignified as some hero of antiquity, refuted the imputation, and proved to satiety that there was no question of a trap. "I do not say," he added with a Mephistophelian smile, "but what it was an understood thing between us, as I was allowed to see beforehand what her pocket contained."

The girl then became still more emphatic in her protestations against this statement, and she became agitated to an incomprehensible degree, and ran to the opposite end of the room, as far as possible from the captain, as if he were going to take by force what he had a right to.

Those on her side were the women, whilst the men took the part of the captain. The drawing-room was then transformed into a perfect pandemonium. They all talked, laughed, and screamed without coming to any understanding. But, as is easily supposed, the one who screamed and gesticulated the most, was the girl concerned. Nevertheless, Don Cristobal, seeing there were no signs of coming to an understanding and wishing to countenance his daughter's course of action, intervened in the dispute like a majestic G.o.d extending his right hand to calm the waves of the stormy sea.

"Emilita," he said in a tone of command, "play is play; give a kiss to this gentleman."

It is noticeable that he did not say to "the captain," nor "to this senor officer." His lips still revolted at using a term exclusively military.

"But papa!" exclaimed the younger daughter, red as a poppy.

"It must be done!" he returned, with his extended right hand in the most commanding att.i.tude that could be a.s.sumed by such a G.o.dlike pensioner.

There was no help for it. Emilita, confused and ashamed, with her cheeks like two fires, advanced with a hesitating step to the brave captain of Pontevedra, who was sharp enough to bring his lips to play upon the brilliant colouring of her face.

But lo and behold! hardly was this effected than up jumps a basilisk of a Micaela, who was indeed the most irascible of the four nereids who inhabited the depths of the dwelling of the Pensioner.

"How shameless! These are not decent games, but low tricks. I am not astonished at Nunez, for men are what they are. But I am astonished at you, Emilita. It seems to me that a little more modesty and shame would not become you badly. But what is to be done, when those, whose duty it is to inspire you with it are the first to abet what is wrong?"

This heated diatribe against the author of her days turned him pale and paralysed him. There was a moment of embarra.s.sed silence; then they were all eager to defend Emilita, and maintain the purity and perfect innocence of such games. The argument repeated most often was that as there was no _malice prepense_ it was of no account, because the important thing in these matters was the intention.

"Was the kiss given with intention?" asked one of the most dialectical youths. "No? Then it was as if it had not been given."

Nunez a.s.sented gravely, being a little irritated, and eyeing his future sister-in-law with some misgiving.

But she declined to surrender to such self-evident demonstrations, and continued to request, each time more violently and in a higher key, that her younger sister might have a little shame, and her senor father a little feeling. But as n.o.body appeared with these requisites in their hands, to comply with these requests, there was nothing for it but to go on lowering her diapason until her angry protestations were gradually transformed into a far-away mutter like the sounds of distant thunder, and the party returned to its normal state of calm.

But the game of forfeits was over for that night. Nuncita, who was generally the one for bright ideas, suggested that they should play at _la boba_ (the fool). I do not know why, but this game had a particular attraction for the youngest of the Senoritas de Mere. It is impossible to say what it was that pleased the ex-fiancee of the Lieutenant Paniagua, when she managed to get the fool on to any of her girl guests, and what anxiety and concern she evinced when she had it herself and could not get rid of it. Paco Gomez took the pack of cards and took out the three knaves, then knowing Nuncita's weakness, and wishing, according to his temperament, to put her out a little, he made a sign to the others that she had the knave, and all the guests soon became a party to her keeping it. The result was that the "fool" was nearly always in the hands of "the child," and try as she would, no efforts could relieve her of it. This, in spite of her natural gentleness, finally enraged her. The party laughed, and so did she, but more with her lips than her heart. At last, in a moment of anger, she dashed down the cards and declared she would not play any more. Carmelita, seeing such an act of discourtesy, intervened severely as was her custom in any case of insubordination.

"What temper is this? Wherefore this madness? What will these gentlemen think? They will say, and rightly, that you have no education, and that our family has not known how to bring you up. Now, take the cards at once."

"I don't want to."

"What! what do you say, stupid? You--you are mad. Was there ever such a wayward creature? Ta--take up the cards at once."

Anger made her stutter so much that only incoherent sounds proceeded from her toothless mouth.

"Hum!" muttered Nuncita as she twisted her lips into a sulky pout.

"Child, don't enrage me!" cried her elder sister.

"I don't want to, I don't want to," repeated the obstinate creature with decision.

And at the same time she dragged her reluctant feet into the other room.

But her sister immediately followed with the severest and most authoritative demeanour imaginable, prepared to correct that beginning of rebellion which in time might lead to most fatal consequences. A sound of dispute was heard, the sharp angry voice of Carmelita was raised, then it toned down, became more persuasive and reasoning, until it regained its normal suavity, as the echo of a sob reached the ears of the guests. Finally, at the end of some time, Carmelita reappeared with a slower step than her sister, with her eyes blazing with authority, and the majestic att.i.tude befitting those who dictate laws to the beings Providence has confided to their care. "The child" came behind ashamed and submissive, with inflamed cheeks and tearful eyes. She reseated herself at the table without daring to raise her eyes to her elder sister, who still regarded her with a certain severity, humbly took up the cards, and began to play again. But instead of this touching example of respect and submission making a grave impression on the onlookers, it provoked a smile of amus.e.m.e.nt on almost all their faces, and there emanated from some of them inopportune bursts of laughter that were only repressed with difficulty.

Nevertheless the game did not last long. The hour approached for the select party to disperse.

"Maria Josefa, I saw your G.o.dchild at the promenade to-day," said Paco Gomez, as he absently shuffled the cards. "I gave it a kiss. She gets prettier every day. How old is it now?"

"You can calculate. We had it baptised in February. Two and a half months."

"Was it with its mother?" asked Manuel Antonio, smiling in a peculiar way.

"No! I met the mother afterwards in Altavilla and exchanged a remark with her," he gravely returned with a.s.sumed naturalness.

The greater part of the guests looked at him with a smile, and with an expression of reserved malice that surprised Fernanda. Only the two Senoritas de Mere and Garnet remained unconcerned without taking any notice of the conversation.

"But what G.o.dchild of yours are they talking about--of the baby adopted by the Quinones?" asked the heiress of Estrada-Rosa of Maria Josefa.

"Yes."

"Well, then, how are they speaking of its mother?"

"Because these two have an evil tongue. G.o.d keep us from that!" returned the old maid, also smiling with malicious pleasure, and at the same time looking at the young girl with the pitiful kindness accorded to innocent creatures.

"But who do they suppose is its mother?"

"Who could it be?--Amalia!--Silence!" she added hastily, lowering her voice.

Fernanda was stupefied. The news was so new and surprising to her that she kept her eyes fixed on her friend as if she had not heard. In the excitement of the moment she had not heard the first words of Paco, but only thought it was a question of his being warm in his praise of the beauty of the child.

"It belongs to those it likens," murmured the Magpie of Sierra, with the same intentional malignity. "Yes, it is like its mother--and its father.

Its father was a fine boy."

Fernanda, a sudden prey to overwhelming curiosity, insane curiosity that urged her on, agitated and breathless without her knowing why, bent again towards Maria Josefa, and putting her mouth to her ear, she asked in an agitated voice:

"But who is its father?"