Maximina Part 29

Miguel and Maximina noticed these things, and had many times commented on them with sorrow; but there was one thing that attracted their attention above all and was the subject of long discussion between them: this was the invincible antipathy which Julia showed to her cousin Don Alfonso, and the eagerness with which she tried to bring him into the conversation, so as to blacken his character.

There seemed to be no defect which the Andalusian gentleman did not possess in his cousin's eyes, and she took a malicious delight in enumerating and exaggerating them. In this respect, she every day made some new discovery which she was sure to bring to her brother and sister.

At one time it was that he had brought a great lot of neckties, which to her mind proved that he squandered his money; then, again, she made all manner of ridicule of him, on account of the perfect battery of perfumes which he had on his toilet table; at times she called him lazy, because he never opened a book; at others, she ridiculed him for curling his mustache with the tongs; then she would complain of him because he would not take her to walk. But what made her most indignant and beside herself was his habit of not going to bed till two or three or even four o'clock in the morning, and because two or three times he had not done so till daylight.

"What does this man do after he leaves the theatre? Where does he go?

The best way would be not to think about it. He is every way disgusting, repugnant!"

"It is too bad!" Miguel rejoined. "But there is no reason for you to be so exercised about it. Mamma invited him to spend a while at her house.

When she does not receive him any longer, it will be all over."

Julia made no reply to this; but the next day she was again going a.s.siduously out of her way to get her cousin "on the carpet," or, more accurately speaking, in the pillory.

"Do you know it seems to me that Julia is in love with Alfonso?" said Maximina to her husband, one night as they were going to bed.

"It seems to me so too," replied Miguel, with a deep frown; "and I am sorry for it, because Saavedra is a heartless, bad man, who would not marry her, and if he did marry her, would make her wretched.... And the worst of it is," he added after a pause, "mamma is as much in love with him as she is! Yesterday I tried to give her a hint about the impropriety of keeping him so long at her house, and she gave me one of her violent, impertinent replies, so that I have no more desire to touch on that subject, and yet I feel that it is very necessary."

There was a moment of silence, and Maximina exclaimed:--

"Poor Julia!"

"Yes, poor Julia! G.o.d grant that you may have no more reason to say that than now!"

During the two months that Don Alfonso spent in Madrid he amused himself to the utmost of his ability; his name, his figure, his money, and his notoriety as a fighter, which was in curious contrast to his smooth and peaceable character, gave him entrance into the most select society; he immediately became intimate with the most fashionable young ladies, and the houses where he called were the most aristocratic in the court circles.

When he was at his aunt's, instead of making parade of this, he never said where he was going nor where he had been, nor did he ever mention any episode that would betray it. On the contrary, he took particular pains to avoid speaking of high society, in which they did not move, so as to spare them the petty mortification which for some women is apt to be really painful.

He was the same extremely respectful gentleman toward his aunt, affable and gallant toward his cousin, although in all that he did he managed to show a peculiar haughty coolness, which is the quality best adapted for a.s.suring success with the ladies.

One evening Julia, on entering the theatre, saw her cousin in the box of a d.u.c.h.ess famous at that time for her beauty, her discretion, as well as her conquests.

The position which the two occupied, in the rear of the box, and bending toward each other until their cheeks almost touched, the insinuating smile on his face, and the flattered vanity which was expressed in hers, all made on the young girl such an impression that, for the moment, she was afraid of falling, and it was by mere force of will that she managed to reach their seats. When she had recovered from that painful surprise, she said to herself: "But what folly! Why should I feel such an impression if I have absolutely nothing in common with him? And even if he were my fiance, what would there be peculiar in his talking with that lady?"

At that moment Saavedra gracefully waved them a salute with his hand.

Julia replied with a forced smile.

The d.u.c.h.ess turned around to see whom her friend was saluting, and levelled her opera-gla.s.s in a most impertinent fashion. Julia, being conscious of the stare, became so serious that it was pitiful to see her. And from the corner of her eye she noticed that the d.u.c.h.ess, laying down her gla.s.s, bent toward her cousin and said a few words, to which he replied, looking toward her again. Then the lady said something more with a half-jesting smile, which caused Saavedra to reply with a cold smile and a gesture of displeasure.

"That woman has just been saying something about me," thought Julita; and she trembled to see Don Alfonso's gesture. A hot gust of anger flared up into her face, and giving them a proud and scornful glance, she murmured: "Say whatever you please; you will see how much I care for you!"

And during the whole evening she did not once again even accidentally direct her eyes toward the box.

Between the second and third acts Saavedra came to speak with them, and sat down behind them in an empty seat. A pale young man with spectacles came along to do the same, and sat down in another seat. Julia introduced them with perfect composure:--

"My cousin Alfonso Saavedra ... Senor Hernandez del Pulgar."

Then she showed herself unusually jolly and gracious. The conversation turned on the drama of the evening, which was more terrible and melancholy than usual with the romantic school. Julita, with no little cruelty, parodied the most touching scenes.

"That man makes me nervous who gets angry and is always in a fury and always saying that he is going to fight. I wish he would hurry up about it, and leave us in peace; ay! how stupid! I don't envy that pedantic, detestable young lady her lover! The only thing enviable about her is her facility in fainting away. Tell me, Hernandez, what is the name of that senor who is so furious and 'hopelessly given to Barabbas'?"

"Don Marcellino.... What I don't understand is this: why does Mercedes dismiss Fernando as soon as her father dies?"

"Man alive! because the tender sweetheart does not wear full mourning.

And what is the young lady going to do without father or mother or watch-dog? Die? I should like to see it!... Tell me; wasn't it very improper for Dona Elvira and Don Marcellino to be alone together so long?"

The young men laughed, and exchanged significant glances.

"Girl! what nonsense are you stringing together now?" exclaimed the _la brigadiera_, sharply.

Julita blushed, perceiving that she had gone too far; but still she did not cease to be gay and talkative, though it was so manifestly put on that it escaped neither Don Alfonso nor her mother. Hernandez del Pulgar left, perfectly carried away by her amiability and wit.

In the third act Saavedra returned to his place beside the d.u.c.h.ess, without Julita appearing to notice it at all. When they left the theatre, it was raining, and Don Alfonso went down and put them into a cab.

When he reached home half an hour later, he found Julia taking a cup of lime juice in the dining-room.

As their eyes met, Don Alfonso smiled not very openly. Julita had a very high color. Don Alfonso's smile seemed to say: "I know why you are drinking that _tila_."

Julita's blushes proclaimed in a loud voice: "You have caught me in the very act!"

At the beginning of summer Saavedra determined to go and make his mother a visit before returning to Paris. Julia heard the news with indifference; she even started to sing some Malaga songs at the piano, leaving her mother and cousin to talk about the journey.

_La brigadiera_ begged him to stay a few days longer; Don Alfonso refused gently but obstinately, declaring that he had given his mother notice, and had named the day on which he should reach Seville.

_La brigadiera_ urged him persistently, like a woman accustomed to have her own way, and Don Alfonso resisted no less persistently, like a man whose determinations, though expressed politely, are irrevocably fixed.

Julia suddenly stopped singing, and half turning round, said, in a dry and impatient tone:--

"Mamma, you are annoying him; do cease!"

"I am not going for my own pleasure, Julia," returned Don Alfonso, blandly; "you know too well that nowhere in the world am I more contented than I am here, and that I am perfectly satisfied to be with Aunt Angela and you; but I have duties toward my mother that I must fulfil, and I am obliged to be in Seville."

Julia listened to these words with her back turned, and once more began to play and sing, without making any reply.

The day set by Don Alfonso for his departure was a Wednesday; the two or three days preceding, Julia had been smiling and indifferent as before; but the circle under her eyes was darker and wider, and from time to time she would remain looking into vacancy.

Saavedra had determined to start in the morning, on an early train, with the idea of spending the day at Aranjuez with a friend who had a country place there.

He therefore arose very early, and after dressing he gave the last touches to his packing. His aunt also arose early, to see him off, and get him something to eat besides.

But Julia paid no heed, and remained shut in her room, much to the annoyance of _la brigadiera_, who had called her to say good by to their guest.

Taking advantage of a moment when she was busy in the dining-room, Saavedra slipped off to his cousin's room, gently raised the latch, and opened the door.

Julia was in bed; her eyes flashed angrily on the intruder.

"What have you come for?" she demanded, frowning severely. "Go away, go away immediately! This is a most atrocious thing to do!"

But Don Alfonso, not heeding her protest, calmly walked into the room, and said in a humble voice:--