Froth Part 29

Her impetuous temperament would never allow her to enjoy the present in peace; it drove her to seek further, to precipitate events; though not unfrequently, instead of procuring her pleasure, they only left her entangled in the ruins of the dream-palace she had raised. On this occasion, however, she had better reason than usual for wis.h.i.+ng to get out of the predicament. It was altogether such a false position as to verge on the ridiculous; and she owned as much to herself in her most secret soul.

"In point of fact, I am treating this boy like a dancing bear."

But though she every day determined to put an end to the adventure by going out no more on foot, or by pa.s.sing by Raimundo's house without looking up, bowing to him coldly at the utmost, she had not resolution enough to carry out her purpose, nor even to cease sending her greeting up to the corner window. One thing still puzzled her, and that was, that the young man, seeing the evident tokens she had given of her change of mind, and the rather humiliating proofs of her liking for him, had never failed in his obedience--never followed her, nor attempted to meet her out walking. This at last piqued her vanity; she thought he played his new part with too much zeal. And thinking this she was sometimes quite angry with him; but then as she went past and saw him so smiling, so happy, so eager to bow to her, the black mood of her pride was dispelled, and her heart was again full to overflowing, of sympathy for the boy, and of the whimsical desire to love and to be loved by him.

How would it all end? In nothing, probably. Nevertheless, she did her utmost to carry on the affair, and bring it to some definite issue; of that there is no doubt. And her wish being thwarted by causes which she could not clearly understand, it grew, till by degrees it became a fierce appet.i.te. One afternoon, when disappointment and bitterness possessed her breast, as she was walking down the Calle de Serrano, seriously pondering on giving up this ridiculous adventure, as she pa.s.sed beneath the window, after bowing to the young man seated there, she felt a handful of loose flowers fall upon her. She looked up, understanding that it was he who had flung them, and gave him a smile of tender grat.i.tude. This shower refreshed her spirit and revived her drooping fancy. Now she only thought of some way of bringing him nearer to her. She thought of writing to beg his forgiveness for her visit and her stern words, but it was too late for that. Then she fancied that perhaps among her friends, particularly among journalists, there might be some one who would know him, and by whom she might send him some civil message. But this idea she dismissed as dangerous. She almost thought of giving him some signal to come down to her, and explaining herself verbally, but this again she did not dare. It was too humiliating.

Chance came to her aid, solving the dilemma to her satisfaction when she least expected it. They met one evening at the theatre. Raimundo, whose year of deep mourning was nearly at an end, now occasionally went out, and he and his sister were in the stalls. Clementina was in a box just above them. They exchanged bows, and then for some time there was a cross-fire of glances and smiles, which attracted Aurelia's attention.

"Who is it? Have you been meeting that lady again?"

"No."

"Then what is the meaning of your smiles? You seem to be intimate friends."

"I do not know," said the brother, somewhat embarra.s.sed. "She is always very friendly to me. Perhaps she thinks she offended me when she came to our rooms, and wishes to mollify me."

Between the first and second acts, a beautiful spray of camellia was handed to Aurelia by a flower-seller.

"From the lady in box number eleven."

Aurelia looked up, and saw Clementina gazing and smiling at her. She and Raimundo bowed their thanks, Aurelia blus.h.i.+ng deeply.

"Do not you think," said her brother, "that I ought to go upstairs and thank her?"

It was but natural. Raimundo, when the curtain next fell, left his sister for a moment, and went up to the Osorios' box. A happy smile beamed on Clementina's face as she saw the young man at the door. She received him as an old friend, bade him sit down by her side, and began a conversation in an undertone, completely neglecting Pascuala whom she had brought with her. Happily for this lady, Bonifacio came in before long; he never took a stall at any theatre where he knew that the Osorios had a box.

"I am glad to see that you have no grudge against me," said she in a low voice, with an insinuating glance. "That is right. It shows you have both a good heart and good sense. I must frankly confess that I was utterly mistaken in my estimate of your conduct and character. I can only a.s.sure you that when I came out of your house, I would gladly have turned back to beg your pardon. If not in words, in looks and gestures I have asked it many times since, as you will have understood." And she proceeded, in the most masterly way, to give him three or four more encouraging hints, which quite turned poor Raimundo's head--that is to say, left him speechless, confused, and fascinated; just as she would have him, in short. At the same time she skilfully accounted for the rather singular display of liking for him which she herself was ashamed to recall.

Without leaving him time to reply, she inquired after his sister, his health, and his b.u.t.terflies. Raimundo answered briefly, not out of indifference, but for lack of worldly ease of manner. But she was nothing daunted, she became more and more affectionate, entangling him in a perfect maze of flattering speeches and inviting glances. At the moment when she was most fluent, it might almost be said inspired to conquer her youthful adorer, suddenly, in the pa.s.sage between the stalls, Pepe Castro appeared on the scene, in evening dress, the ends of his moustache waxed to needle points, the curls of his hair waving coquettishly over his temples, his whole air easy, self-sufficient, and scornful. He first cast his fascinating and Olympic eye over the stalls, subjugating every marriageable damsel who happened to be occupying one, and then, with the serene dignity of an eagle's soaring flight, he raised it to box number eleven. He could not suppress a start of surprise. Who was this with whom Clementina was on such intimate terms?

He did not know this young man. He brought his diminutive opera-gla.s.ses to bear on him--no, he had never seen him in his life. Clementina, conscious of her lover's surprise, after returning his greeting, became doubly amiable to Raimundo, addressing herself solely to him, leaning over to speak to him, and going through endless manoeuvres to attract the attention of the ill.u.s.trious "Savage." She felt a malignant glee in doing this. Castro was now absolutely indifferent to her. Raimundo returned Pepe's impertinent stare through his opera-gla.s.ses, by a curious glance now and then, for he had not the honour of knowing the "husband's bugbear!"

Then reflecting that his sister would be losing patience, though he could keep an eye on her from the box, he rose to depart.

"We are friends, are we not?" said the lady, holding his hand. "Remember me affectionately to your sister. I owe her, too, an apology for my strange and unexpected visit. Tell her I shall call on her some day and take her by surprise in the midst of her household cares. I take the greatest interest in you both--a brother and sister, both so young--good night, good night."

When he found himself by his sister's side once more, feeling rather bewildered, Aurelia said to him:

"How very handsome that lady is! But still I cannot see that she is like mamma."

Raimundo, who at the moment had forgotten the likeness, was taken by surprise.

"Oh, there is a sort of look--an air," he stammered out.

So now it was no more than an air. The young man was conscious of a vague remorse. The impression Clementina now produced on his mind was not that respectful devotion which had possessed him before they had made acquaintance in so strange a manner.

Pepe Castro, when he saw him in the stalls, simply stared at him, hoping, perhaps to annihilate him. As he concluded that the red-haired youth did not belong to the elevated sphere in which he himself moved, it occurred to him--for his imagination was lively--that this might be the youth of whose pertinacity Clementina had formerly complained. As was but natural this did not prejudice him in Alcazar's favour.

Raimundo himself was too much absorbed in contemplating the Osorios' box to notice his rival's determined stare, and Pepe, tired of it at last, went up to join Clementina. He seated himself by her side in the very place occupied shortly before by Alcazar, who, on seeing him there, was aware of a strange _malaise_, an obscure dejection which he did not even attempt to define. Nevertheless, he observed that the lady smiled a great deal, and that the gentleman was very grave, also that she found time to cast frequent glances in his direction, whereat her companion grew more and more sullen and gloomy.

"Have you noticed how that lady gazes down at you?" said Aurelia to her brother. "She seems to have taken quite a fancy to you."

"Nonsense!" he replied, turning very red. "Such a fellow as I am too! If it were that gentleman who is sitting by her now."

Aurelia protested, laughing, that her brother was far better looking than that doll of a man, with pink cheeks like a ballet-dancer's.

When the performance was over, Raimundo, not without a pang of jealousy, found Clementina waiting in the lobby for her carriage, attended by this same man. But she greeted him so eagerly, that Castro, who was becoming uneasy, turned to give him a long and scrutinising stare.

For some days after this, the young entomologist anxiously expected Clementina to stop at the door, and come up to pay the promised visit.

But he was disappointed. The lady constantly went by with her light brisk step, bowed as she approached, and before she turned the corner, waved him an adieu. Every time she pa.s.sed the door, Raimundo's heart sank, and at last he grew angry. "Pshaw! She has forgotten all about it," he said to himself. "I shall never, probably, speak to her again, since we never by any chance meet anywhere."

He did his best to a.s.sist chance, by going more often to the play, where he never saw her. At the opera, he would certainly have found her, but he never was so bold as to go there for fear she might think he had renewed his pursuit. Why he had taken it into his head that she would call at any one hour more than at another it is impossible to say. But in the end his surprise and agitation were unbounded when one morning Clementina really made her appearance. This time she asked for the Senorita. Aurelia received her in the drawing-room, and immediately sent for her brother. By the time he appeared the lady was sitting on the sofa and chatting with the frank ease of an old acquaintance.

"This visit is not to you, you understand," said she, giving him her hand.

"I should never have dared to imagine that it was," he replied, shyly pressing her fingers.

"There is no knowing. I do not think you conceited, but a woman must always be on her guard."

There was something not quite genuine in the candour of her jesting tone. Her voice was slightly tremulous, and there was a pale circle round her eyes, a sure sign of some emotion which weighs on the mind.

Her visit was short, but she found time to charm the young girl by her delicate flattery and effusive offers. She made her promise to return her visit soon; in the evening if she preferred to meet no one, and they would have a long chat together. She would show Aurelia the house, and some work she was doing. The girl's loneliness and youth had really made an impression on her, and if, in fact, she bore some resemblance to their mother, as Raimundo said, she felt she had some claim on her affection.

"Well, then, when you are bored here by yourself, come to my house--it is such a little way--and we will bore each other. That will be a variety, at any rate."

Poor Aurelia, bewildered by her visitor's condescension and unfamiliar worldly tone, could only smile in reply. When Clementina rose to go, she said:

"I rely on you, Alcazar, to see that your sister keeps her promise. As for you--you can do as you please. I never press my society on a _savant_, for I know one may be boring him when one least suspects it."

She had quite recovered her balance, and spoke in an easy protecting tone, with almost a maternal air. Even on the staircase she paused to reiterate all her friendly advances. She would not allow Raimundo to escort her to the house-door; she went down alone, leaving a trail of perfume which he enjoyed more than his sister did. When their door was closed on her, Aurelia did not speak; and she replied to her brother's rapturous eulogies in so few words that his ardour was soon dashed.

It was too true: the feeling of filial adoration which the young professor had felt at first for the lady of his dreams was fast dying away, or rather was being transformed into another, less saintly though still akin to it. In him, as in every man who lives out of the society of women, and exclusively devoted to study, the instincts of s.e.x and the revelation of the divine law of love were sudden and intense. On the very next day he urged Aurelia to return Clementina's call, though he expressed his wish with some timidity and hesitation. His sister, however, insisted on the propriety of allowing some little time to elapse, and he submitted. At length the visit was paid. Aurelia spent an afternoon in the Senora's boudoir. Raimundo, after much deliberation, did not venture to accompany her.

Three or four days later Clementina again called to invite them both to her box at the Opera that evening. It was a terrible joy. Raimundo had not a dress coat, and Aurelia's wardrobe was not much better furnished.

However, they went. A relation lent Raimundo a coat, and Aurelia wore the best she had. Next day Raimundo ordered a dress suit, of the first tailor in Madrid; nor was this all: without saying anything to his sister, he went to the box-office of the Opera-house and subscribed for a stall as near as possible to the Osorios' box, and for the same evenings.

Thanks to Raimundo's efforts, the intimacy grew apace, though his sister, while she spoke warmly of her new friend's kindness, opposed a pa.s.sive resistance to all familiarity with her. Do what she might, she could not forget the extraordinary way in which their acquaintance had begun, nor the sense of falsity with which Clementina had impressed her.

Raimundo, fully aware of all this, did his utmost by direct and indirect means to conquer her suspicions.

Aurelia was plain, rather than pretty, with sound common sense, and an upright spirit. Her adoration for her brother, inherited from her mother, did not blind her to the weak points in his character. He was easily impressed and as easily led, and still very puerile. In fact, in a certain sense, she represented the masculine and he the feminine element in the house. He was easily moved to tears; she, with great difficulty. He was liable to whimsical alarms and bewilderments, amounting sometimes almost to hallucinations, her nervous system was calm and well balanced; she was healthy and sound, he frail and placid.

During the months immediately following on his mother's death, Raimundo, making a great effort, with the idea of being his sister's protector, had shown more manliness and firmness; but, as time went on, his nature rea.s.serted itself, and he fell into his childish fancies and womanly susceptibilities again, in proportion as she developed a resolute, honest, and well-balanced character.

It cost Clementina hardly an effort to fascinate and subjugate the young naturalist. Sometimes the young people went to her, and sometimes she to them; or she would fetch them to go to the theatre, or out driving with her, and thus they soon met almost every day. The first evening that Pepe Castro met Alcazar in the Osorios' drawing-room he perfectly understood the situation, and it filled him with rage.

"So this precious hussy is taking up with a baby!" he muttered between his teeth. "They all come to such folly at last."

He thought of insulting the boy and provoking him to fight; but he soon saw that this could do him no good. What could he gain by it?

Absolutely nothing, for Clementina would only hate him the more, and the scandal would betray his discomfiture--all the more ignominious for him, as his successful rival was a boy, whom no one knew anything about. So he came to the prudent conclusion that he would not wear his heart for daws to peck at, but would for a while leave his mistress to her own devices. By-and-by, perhaps, she would tire of playing with this pet lamb and call the sheep back to the fold.

Alcazar was not such a boy as Castro thought him; he was three-and-twenty. But his face was so youthful and delicate that he did not look more than eighteen. His health was variable and frail; especially, since his mother's death, he had been liable to attacks of the brain, when he lost sometimes his sight, and sometimes the power of speech, complicated with other evils, but happily of very short duration. He was a frequent prey to melancholy, ending in a violent crisis and floods of tears, like a hysterical woman. He was terrified of spiders; the sight of a surgical instrument gave him the horrors.

Sometimes he suffered acute anguish from a dread of going mad; at others his fear was lest he should kill himself against his will. He never would have any kind of weapon within reach, and for fear of throwing himself from the balcony he always had his bedroom window locked at night and placed the key in his sister's keeping: she was the only witness and confidant of his vagaries. They were the outcome, partly of his temperament, and partly of the effeminate training he had received.