The Catholic World Volume Iii Part 85

"My goats."

"That do not make up to you in milk, cheeses, and kids, what they cost you in fines, they are so vicious."

"And my orchard," continued Pedro, without replying to the raillery with which Anna revenged herself for his jests.

In such discussion they arranged the preliminaries of the contract, remaining afterward, as they were before, the best friends in the world.

When Pedro had gone, Anna put on her woollen mantle, and repressing her grief, and hiding the extreme repugnance she felt, went to the house of her sister-in-law.

Maria, who professed for Anna, who was very kind to her, as much love as grat.i.tude, and as much respect as veneration, received her with loquacious pleasure.

"It does one's eyes good to see you in this house," she exclaimed, as Anna entered. "What good thought has brought you, sister?"

And she hastened to place a chair for her guest.

Anna sat down, and made known the object of her visit.

The proposition so filled the poor woman with joy, that she could not find words to express herself.

"O my sister!" she exclaimed in broken sentences, "what good fortune!

Perico! son of my heart! It is to Saint Antonio that I owe this good {507} fortune! And you, Anna, are you satisfied? Look here, sister: Rita, although forward, is really a good-hearted girl. She is wilful, but that is my fault. If I had brought her up as well as you have Elvira, she would be different. She is giddy, but you will see (with years and married life) how steady she will become. All these things are the effects of my spoiling and of her youth. Rita! Rita!" she cried, "come, make haste: here is your aunt--what do I say? your mother, she wishes to become, by marrying you to Perico."

Rita entered with the self-possession of a banker, and the composure of a diplomatist.

"What do you say, daughter?" cried the delighted mother.

"That I knew it," replied Rita.

"Go along," said the mother in an undertone, "if you are not as calm as if you were used to it, and cooler than a fresh lettuce."

"And what would you have me do--dance a fandango, because I am going to be married?" answered Rita, raising her voice.

Anna rose and went out. Maria, extremely mortified by her daughter's rudeness, went with her sister-in-law as far as the street, lavishing upon her a thousand expressions of endearment and grat.i.tude.

CHAPTER V.

Preparations were being made for the weddings. That of Elvira and Ventura was to take place before that of Rita and Perico, as the former had not to wait for a dispensation from Rome.

Pedro wished his daughter Marcela to a.s.sist at her brother's marriage, before commencing her novitiate, and determined to go to Alcala to bring her. Maria had a debt to collect there, and needing all her funds for the expected event, took advantage of her old friend's going to make the trip in company.

The ancient pair, mounted upon their respective a.s.ses, set out on their journey, crossing themselves, and Maria, the Christian soul, making a prayer to the holy archangel, Saint Raphael, patron of all travellers, from Tobias down to herself.

Maria, comfortably seated upon the the cushions of her saddle, dressed in a wide chintz skirt, which was plaited at the waist, a jacket of black woollen cloth, of which the closely fitting sleeves were fastened at the wrist by a row of silver b.u.t.tons, and round her neck, a white muslin kerchief, pinned down at the back to keep it from touching her hair, looked like a burlesque, antic.i.p.ated, upon the mode which was to rule among the fashionables thirty years later. A little shawl covered her head, the ends being tied under her chin.

Pedro wore, with some slight difference, the dress we have already described in speaking of his son. The cloth was coa.r.s.er, the bolt black, as became a widower, his clothes all fitted more loosely, and his hat had a broader brim, and was without ornament.

"It is a day of flowers!" said Maria, "the fields are smiling, and the sun seems as if he were telling them to be gay."

"Yes," said Pedro, "the yellow-haired appears to have washed his face, and sharpened his rays, for they p.r.i.c.k like pins."

He took out a little rabbit-skin bag, in which was tobacco, and began to make a cigarette.

"Maria," said he, when he had finished it, "my opinion is, that, you will come back from Alcala with your hands as empty as they go. But, Christian woman, who the deuce tempted you to lend money to that vagabond? You knew that he had not so much as a place whereon to fall dead, and nothing in expectation but alternate rations of hunger and necessity."

"But," said Maria, "to whom shall we lend if not to the poor? the rich have no need to borrow."

{508}

"And don't you know, big innocent, that 'he who lends to a friend, loses both the money and the friend!' But you, Maria, are always so credulous, and I tell you now that this man will pay you in three instalments: 'badly, late, and never.'"

"You always think the worst, Pedro."

"That is the reason why I always. .h.i.t the mark; think ill, and you will think the truth," said the crafty Pedro.

Presently he commenced droning a ballad, of which the interminable text is as follows:

In my house I heard at night, Sounds that roused me in affright; Quick unsheathed my rapier bright, Stole upstairs with footsteps light.

Searched the dwelling all around, From the rooftree to the ground, Listening for the faintest sound-- Nothing heard I, nothing found.

And my story, being new, I'll repeat it o'er to you.

In my house, etc., etc.

Maria said nothing, nor did she think much more. Rocked by the quiet pace of her animal, she yielded herself to the indolence which the balmy spring day induced, and went along sleeping.

Half the road being pa.s.sed, they came to a small inn. When they arrived some soldiers were lounging upon the brick seats which were fixed on each side of the door under the projecting roof. As soon as they perceived the approach of our venerable couple, they began to attack them with facetious sayings, burlesque provocations, and railleries, such as are usual among the country folk, and especially among the soldiers.

"Uncle," said one, "where are you going with that ancient relic?"

"Aunty," cried another "is the church where you were christened still standing?"

"Aunt," said another, "does your grace retain any recollection of the day you were married?"

"Uncle," asked the fourth, "are you going with this maiden to Alcala to have the bans published?"

"No," answered Pedro, lazily dismounting, "I shall wait for that until I am of age, and the girl has her growth."

"Aunt," continued the soldiers, "shall we help you down from that gay colt?"

"It is the best thing you can do, my sons," responded the good woman.

The soldiers approached, and with kindly attention a.s.sisted her to alight.

Pedro found some acquaintances in the tavern who immediately asked him to drink with them. He did not wait to be urged, and having drank said to them:

"It is my turn now, and since I have accepted your treat, you, my friends, and these gentlemen, whom I know only to serve, will do me the favor to drink a small gla.s.s of _anisete_ to my health."

"Uncle Pedro," said a young muleteer of Dos-Hermanas, "tell us a story; and I in the mean while will take care to keep your gla.s.s filled so that your throat don't get dry."