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When some imprudent fellow ventured to pay them any attention he was told that they would be quite grieved to marry in their father's life, for it seemed cruel to think of abandoning a poor old man, who loved them so dearly, and had sacrificed so much for them; and these protestations were followed by the warmest eulogy on their father's character.
But the Pensioner was quite anxious to repudiate these too filial sentiments, and his desire of experiencing the cruelty of being abandoned was so evident that it was quite a joke. As if the daughters did not make themselves sufficiently ridiculous, Mateo made the situation worse by throwing them at the heads of all the marriageable young men of the town.
But the praises sung by the old man on the cleverness, economy, and good management of his daughters, were all without effect. Directly a stranger arrived at Lancia, Don Cristobal took care to strike up an acquaintance with him. He invited him to coffee at his house, took him to his box at the theatre, showed him the beauties of the surrounding country, went with him to see the reliques of the cathedral, visited the natural history museum, and, in short, did all the honours of the place.
People smiled at the little play which had been acted so many times without success, for Jovita was the only one who arrived at the dignity of having a lover for three or four years, which fact made her feel far superior to her sisters. The young man had been a foreign student who had courted her during the latter courses of his studies; but when they were over, he returned to his country, and, forgetting his engagement to Jovita, he there married a lady of property. The others never even attained to this degree of love-making, they never got farther than fancies, or flirtations of a fortnight's duration. Trifling attentions were paid, but nothing serious ensued.
By degrees the girls a.s.sumed a colder demeanour, for although they had not given up hope, they were tired, and the one all-absorbing idea made a line of care on their brows. But Cristobal did not think of giving in.
He firmly believed in the husbands of his daughters, and he propounded the fact with as much a.s.surance as the prophets of the Old Testament announced the coming of the Messias.
"When my daughters marry," he would say, "instead of spending the summer in Sarrio, where the etiquette is as strict as in Lancia, I shall go to Rodillero to breathe the fresh air and fish for perch. Listen to me, Micaela; don't be so sharp, woman. You will find a husband won't put up with those frivolous ways; he will expect to be answered in a proper manner."
"My husband will have to put up with what he can get," returned the pert girl, with a disdainful toss of her head.
"And if he gets tired of that?" asked Emilita, mischievously.
"He will have double work then, for he will get tired, and get tired of getting tired."
"And suppose he took the stick to you?"
"He would have to be careful, for I should be quite equal to poisoning him."
"Goodness! what a horror!" exclaimed the three nereids, laughing.
So that hypothetical husband, that abstract being, figured as constantly in conversation as if he were of flesh and blood, and lived in the next house.
The daughter now playing the piano was Emilita, the most musical of the four sisters. The other three were standing, each hanging on the arm of a young man.
The count crossed the room to Fernanda-Rosa, who was arm-in-arm with a girl friend. She did not seem to care for the dancing, albeit she was a young lady renowned in the town for her beauty, elegance, and fortune.
She was the only daughter of Don Juan Estrada-Rosa, the richest banker and merchant of the province. Tall, moderately stout, with a dark complexion, regular, striking features, large, very black, scornful looking eyes, and a graceful figure, embellished by the elegant toilettes, that were the despair and envy of all the girls of the town, she did not look as if she belonged to the place, but as if she had been transported from one of the most aristocratic court _salons_.
"How charming you are looking, Fernanda!" exclaimed the count, in a low voice, with a bow of admiration.
The beauty scarcely deigned to smile, but made a little scornful pout.
"How do you do, Luis?" she said, giving him her hand with marked displeasure.
"Not so well as you are, but I am pretty well."
"Only pretty well? I am sorry. I am perfectly well--you have not forgotten me, then?" she returned in the same displeased tone, without looking him in the face.
"Why, no, how could one forget the star Sirius?"
"I do not understand astronomy."
"Sirius is the most brilliant star in the heavens, everybody knows that."
"Well then I did not know it. You see how ignorant I am."
"I certainly do not; but you have modesty united to beauty and talent."
"No, I know I have no talent, but you do not like to tell me so."
"My girl, I have but just told you the contrary."
There was a touch of bitterness in the displeased tone of Fernanda, whilst that of the count was calm and ceremonious, although slightly dashed with irony.
"Very well, then I have misunderstood you."
"That is what you always do."
"Caramba, how polite!" exclaimed the young girl, growing pale.
"You always think something disagreeable is meant," quickly added the count, as he saw by the change in her face what idea had crossed her mind.
"Many thanks. I take your words for what they are worth."
"You will be wrong in not thinking them sincere. Besides, there is no need my telling you how worthy you are of admiration, for everybody knows it."
"Thank you; thank you! So you are tired of playing?"
"My teeth hurt me a little."
"Have them out."
"All of them?"
"Those that hurt you, man. Ave Maria!"
"With what indifference you say it. I suppose nothing would affect you?"
"I am always affected by the sufferings of a neighbour."
"A neighbour! What a horror! I had not heard that I was put in the category of neighbour."
"What do you want, sir? Honours come when least expected."
In spite of the vexed, almost aggressive, tone of her voice, Fernanda did not move away, but stood holding the arm of the little friend, who never opened her lips. The rich heiress was evidently very nervous. She gave little taps on the ground with her foot, crushed up her handkerchief in her hand, her lips trembled almost imperceptibly, and round her dark Arab-looking eyes there was a paler circle than usual.
The argument evidently interested her.
Her engagement with the Conde de Onis had lasted longer than any previous one.
When Fernanda first appeared in society, and earlier still, when she was a little maiden going to school with a servant, her figure, her elegance, and, above all, the six millions she was to inherit, created quite a sensation. There was not a youth with any pretensions to manners or money, who did not determine, either of his own accord, or at the instigation of his family, to walk down the street with her, send her little notes, and whisper pleasant nothings in her ear.
De Sarrio, de Nueva, and other places also furnished admirers, who came under the pretext of taking a holiday. The girl, pleased and intoxicated with the incense of admiration, never thought of keeping faith with anybody, for she was continually breaking one engagement and entering into another. A young man seldom remained in her good graces more than a couple of months. In fact, there was no one in a position to marry her, and in Lancia and the rest of the province, there was n.o.body possessed of property equal to her _dot_. If, perchance, such a one existed, he was not of fitting age to enter into matrimony with such a young girl, for he would be some Indian worn out by tropical heat, or the elderly owner of some remote, grand, country mansion.
It was not necessary for her father to mention the matter, for the girl perfectly understood that there was no one to suit her; but she enjoyed flirting all round and making the youths of Lancia adore her. There was one young man, however, whom no girl of the town had ever dared to think of marrying, and that was the Conde de Onis. He was deeply respected on account of his old family in the province, where the abject worship of aristocracy sinks the burgess beneath the level of the servant and the agricultural labourer; and his retired style of life and the mystery and silence of his old palace, added to his handsome income, seemed to exalt him to an atmosphere aloof from the darts of all the local beauties.
But it was for this very reason, that there arose in Fernanda's bosom a desire, at first vague, and then strong, and overwhelming, to make a conquest of him. This is a very natural wish, and being especially a feminine one, it requires no explanation. In the bottom of her heart the daughter of Estrada-Rosa felt herself inferior to the Conde de Onis.