Maximina Part 15

"It is neither the one thing nor the other, Alfonso; the trouble is that, as having never met you before, she is confused."

"Is that so?" he asked his cousin, at the same time looking at her with a bright smile.

Julita gave an affirmative gesture, and returned his smile.

"That is not so bad.... But I still feel a keen sense of remorse. It will be very gratifying to me if you will tell me that I am forgiven."

Julita, with difficulty overcoming the timidity that choked her, said in a low tone:--

"I have nothing to forgive you for."

"Thanks, little coz," pursued Don Alfonso, rising, and with an elegant and graceful gesture again shaking hands with her.

Then he began to talk with his aunt about family affairs; asking her many questions about his whole circle of relatives, and learning many particulars of which he had been ignorant.

Then the conversation turned on the customs of Paris, which he described pleasantly and attractively, taking pains to extol Spain, instead of depreciating it as the majority of travellers are in the habit of doing.

This appealed to _la brigadiera's_ sympathies. Don Alfonso spoke easily and naturally, but without conceit; on the contrary, in the midst of his talk, he would correct any idea that seemed at all pretentious, and was evidently anxious to show that he had no wish whatever to make himself out a remarkable man.

If he spoke of women, all had "given him the mitten"; if he spoke of art, or gave his opinion about museums and singers, he protested that he had little or no knowledge of painting or music; if by chance he was obliged to refer to any quarrel in which he himself had taken part, he pa.s.sed over it lightly, and did not fail to have it understood that he had done everything possible to avoid it, and at the same time he made sport of the duel and of duelists.

As Don Alfonso had the reputation of being lucky in love affairs, and many of his adventures had made considerable talk, as he played the piano pretty well, and was accounted one of the crack marksmen of Paris, and had fought more than a dozen duels, this modesty of his in conversation was a refres.h.i.+ng contrast, sure of bringing success in society. These accomplishments were rendered still more attractive by the slight foreign accent which made his words all the more insinuating and suave.

Julita listened to him, gazing at him with that intense and conjuring look by which young girls in an instant a.n.a.lyze all a man's physical and moral nature.

Her cousin made a very favorable showing as the result of the a.n.a.lysis; she had no idea that he was such an amiable and attractive man; the incidents of his life which she had heard before gave him the reputation of being haughty and violent in character, if not even coa.r.s.e and shameless.

One evening in Seville he was engaged in playing ombre, and because he was not very successful, he became so much excited that he said all sorts of impudent things, and finally told the ladies present that he was going to ride into the parlor on his nag. No one placed any credence in what he said, and he went out without any one noticing it; but in a few minutes he made his appearance on horseback, to the amazement and terror of all, especially the ladies, who began to scream, while he, striking the spurs into his horse, roared with laughter.

On another occasion, being deep in an intrigue with a young woman of the middle cla.s.s, he went in full dress to the house of her parents, and told them that he wished to speak with them on a very private and serious matter. The father, who was a humble government employe, imagining, as any one might have supposed, that he was going to ask his daughter's hand, received him trembling with emotion; then after many periphrases and circ.u.mlocutions, Saavedra ended by asking him to give him a favorable report on a certain matter that he had in his department.

This hateful piece of drollery was noised over the whole town, and put that poor innocent senor in a most ridiculous light.

But Julita, as she saw and listened to him, forgot these and other escapades; unquestionably this young man, who in her presence was so refined and modest, was an entirely different person.

Saavedra after showing such gallantry to his cousin, waited a long time before he addressed her, or even looked at her; he seemed to be absorbed in his conversation with her mother. Thus it was that she had an abundance of time to make a careful scrutiny of his appearance: his s.h.i.+rt-collar, his cravat, his watch-chain, his boots, all were elegant, and proved by their style that they came from the other side of the Pyrenees.

"You will feel like getting the dust off and having a wash, Alfonso,"

said _la brigadiera_. "Come; we will show you to your room: it is the one which my son Miguel used to occupy."

Don Alfonso could not praise it sufficiently: he found everything to his taste.

"I shall be just like a fish in the water here. You will have trouble in getting rid of me, I a.s.sure you!"

"I will warn you," said Julia, "that it was I who made the bed myself.

Don't you dare say that you have not slept well."

As soon as she had said these words, which by their mischievous spirit were perfectly proper, she repented having said them, and blushed. Don Alfonso turned his face upon her, and looked at her with some friendly curiosity.

"That is the very reason that I shall not sleep well. You were unkind to tell me."

Julita blushed more than ever, and to hide her confusion began to straighten the bottles on the dressing-table, and then she left the room. Finally her mother also went, leaving him to himself, and shortly afterward he again appeared in the parlor, in another costume of the latest and most elegant style.

"Julita," said her mother, "tell them to put on the breakfast; you must feel weary, Alfonso."

"No, aunt; I feel hungry, though. The word is more prosaic, but it is nearer the truth."

_La brigadiera_, with a laugh, accepted the arm which her nephew offered her as they went to the dining-room. During the meal he entertained the ladies in the same agreeable fas.h.i.+on, telling them a thousand curious incidents, giving them minute descriptions of the _soirees_ in the fas.h.i.+onable society of Paris. They were most interested in what he had to say about the ladies' dresses and the decoration of the salons.

During the conversation he never once forgot those gallant and thoughtful attentions which were demanded by his situation. By intuition he discovered when Julita's wine-gla.s.s was empty; he offered his aunt the olives; he pa.s.sed her the mustard, cut the bread for her, etc.

Julia was merry, and perhaps rather more talkative than usual; but when she made use of any expression that was a little more piquante than usual, she would feel her cheeks flush under her cousin's steady, smiling, and somewhat ironical gaze.

It was the first time that she had ever forced herself to be witty and sharp and say sharp things. When she said anything that was particularly clever, Saavedra would look up, and his smile would seem to say, "This little girl is bright."

Julia was rather humiliated by his smile at first, but then she read under it an expression of scornful protection, or at least of absolute indifference, scarcely masked by the extreme courtesy which he showed in all his words and gestures. For in this respect Don Alfonso did not weary a single instant; he did not miss a single opportunity of showing them his subordination, and of giving both his aunt and cousin to feel how agreeable he could be to them.

In the days that followed, his gallantry did not in the least relax. _La brigadiera_ wrote her cousin, a.s.suring her that "she would keep her nephew not merely a month, but all his life in her house; that he was a perfect gentleman, and that young men could not in Spain possibly acquire such an admirable education and such manners as he possessed."

A hearty and perfect confidence quickly grew between him and Julia; the girl amused him with her lively and picturesque chatter which recalled to the exile his years of childhood and youth.

Don Alfonso played the guitar as well as the piano, and to his skill and facility in singing Polish and Spanish songs was due in no small measure his social success in Parisian society. But there he played and sang to attract the notice of the ladies and make himself known, while here it was for his own pleasure or to bring to mind happy days or events.

When he came home in the afternoon an hour before dinner, he was fond of sitting by his cousin's side, with the guitar on his knees, and singing his whole repertoire, not only of cla.s.sic songs, but also of the serenades,[17] _habaneras_, and polkas of his earlier days. Julia recalled some that he had forgotten, and whenever this happened he clapped his hands with delight, and enthusiastically praised his cousin's memory.

She was in her element those days; she had some one to talk with, and she was amused a large part of the day in looking out for the visitor's wants, superintending the ironing of his linen, and seeing that his room was kept neat and clean, and in inspecting with childish curiosity his belongings; and then she heard herself constantly called all sorts of pet adjectives.[18] And what young girl on the face of the earth would not enjoy this? Don Alfonso had certainly remarkable gifts in the way of giving compliments without repeating himself, and without descending to eternal vulgarities, and he was very skilful in finding occasion to say something pleasant about the maiden's charms.... Now it was her hands: "pretty enough to eat"; now it was her teeth: "abroad very few such splendid ones were to be seen"; again, it was her jet-black hair: "I am tired of seeing nothing but tow on women's heads."

Without noticing it, the girl began to wait impatiently afternoons for her cousin's coming, and if anything delayed him, she would keep jumping up from her seat, and then coming back to it again without any reason.

It was during these days that our droll friend Utrilla wrote those famous letters mentioned in the last chapter.

One afternoon as Saavedra came in, Julia happened to be pa.s.sing through the vestibule; she affected to go in front of him without greeting him, but suddenly twitched the end of his cravat, and untied it.

"Hold on there, you little witch! Now come and tie it for me again!"

But Julia was already out of sight, laughing. Don Alfonso followed her; he overtook her in the dining-room; when the girl saw him, she started to run again, and went to the kitchen.

"You won't escape me that way!" cried Saavedra.

"Yes I shall too," retorted the girl, again vanis.h.i.+ng from sight.

Both ran along the corridor, but when they were near the parlor, Julia turned around, and going a few steps toward her cousin, said:--

"Don't chase me any more; I will tie the cravat, but I won't promise to do it well."

"It is enough if you do it; it is a punishment which I impose upon you."

Laughing, though her hands trembled a little, she arranged the tie.

"What is that you have hanging there?" she asked, bending her head so as to examine a trinket which her cousin wore on his watch-chain.