Maximina Part 5

After taking leave of their travelling acquaintances, with a thousand friendly promises, they entered the carriage which _la brigadiera_ had brought. Julia insisted that her mother and the bride should occupy the back seat; she herself could not take her eyes from her new sister, and she held her hands, pressing them affectionately all the time. Maximina endeavored to conquer her timidity and appear affectionate, and by a mighty effort she succeeded.

Miguel's step-mother showed herself affable and courteous, but still it was impossible for her to get entirely rid of that proud and scornful mien that was always peculiar to her. The bride from time to time cast fleeting and timid glances at her.

On reaching the house, Julia ran ahead to show the way to the suite of rooms that were put at their disposal; she herself had arranged them with the greatest care. Not a single detail was lacking: never had forethought been more successful in providing all the necessities of a woman's life, from flowers and sewing-case to glove-b.u.t.toner and hairpins. Unfortunately Maximina could not appreciate these refinements of elegance and good taste: everything was for her equally new and lovely.

Miguel met his sister in the corridor.

"Where is Maximina?"

"I left her in her room, taking off her wraps. She is waiting for her maid to bring her shoes."

"Then I'm going to take off my things too, and brush my hair a little,"

said the young man, rather awkwardly.

Julia stifled a laugh, and ran away.

When Miguel reached his room, he took off his overcoat, and going to his wife, who was still in her gray travelling-suit, he pressed her to his heart, and kissed her again and again. Then taking her hand and drawing her to a chair, he seated her on his knees, and began to kiss her pa.s.sionately.

Maximina grew as red as a cherry, and though she was conscious that all this sort of thing was eminently proper, she managed gently to escape from his arms. Miguel, who himself felt rather confused, allowed her to get up and leave the room: he followed her shortly after.

It was Sunday, and they had to go to ma.s.s. As _la brigadiera_ and Julia had already been, Maximina, Miguel, and Juana were the only ones to go, and they chose San Ginez. The maid, who would not have considered it as going to church at all if she did not have a full view of the priest from head to foot, made her way through the crowd and took her place near the altar. The young couple stationed themselves a little farther back. Never before had the incruental sacrifice seemed so beautiful to Miguel, and never had he taken so much joy in it, although his imagination did not wing its flight exactly in the direction of Golgotha, nor were his eyes always turned toward the officiating clergyman. Heaven, which is ever very merciful to the newly wedded, has ere this forgiven him these shortcomings.

After breakfast Miguel proposed a walk through the _Retiro_[6]; the afternoon, though cold, was calm and clear. _La brigadiera_ did not care to accompany them, but what delight Julita took in helping her sister-in-law dress, and in giving the last touches to her toilette! She selected the dress for her to wear, and helped her put it on; she arranged her hair according to the fas.h.i.+on, fastened on her jewelry, and the flowers in her bosom, and even brushed her boots. She was rosy with delight in performing these offices. As soon as they reached the street, she walked along by her side, intoxicated with pride, in a sweetly patronizing way, as though saying: "Just behold this young creature, even younger than I am! And yet she is a married lady! Treat her with great respect!"

Before reaching the Park, Miguel, accidentally looking back, saw in the dim distance of the Calle de Alcala, diminished by the density of the ambient air, the delicate profile of Utrilla, that famous cadet of yore, and he said calmly to his wife:--

"Now, Maximina, though we seem to be mere private citizens going out for a walk to sun ourselves in the _Retiro_, still we have a military escort."

Julita blushed.

"An escort? I see no one," exclaimed Maximina, turning her head.

"It is not so easy; but by and by I will give you the gla.s.s, and see if you will be able to make him out."

Julita pressed her hand, and whispered:--

"Don't mind what this foolish fellow says."

They were by this time in the Park, and Utrilla's profile was growing more and more distinct in the clear and delicious atmosphere slightly warmed by the sun.

Maximina walked along, and gazed with a mixture of surprise and awe at the throng of gentlemen and ladies pa.s.sing her, and impudently staring at her face and dress with that haughty, inquisitorial look which the Madrilenos are accustomed to a.s.sume as they pa.s.s each other. And she even imagined that she heard remarks made about her behind her back:--

"That is a costly dress, yes, indeed! but that child does not have any style about wearing it! She looks like a little saint from the country."

This did not offend her, because she was perfectly convinced of her insignificance by the side of such a _gran senor_ and _senora_; but it made her a little homesick not to see a single friendly face, and she half clung to her husband's side as if to seek shelter from the vague and unfair hostility which she saw around her.

But as she glanced at him she saw that he too was walking along with a haughty frown, and that his face showed the same scornful indifference and the same bored expression with all the others. And her heart all the more sank within her, because she was not as yet aware that the sentiment in vogue in Madrid is hate, and that even if it is not felt, it is the thing to pretend to show it, at least in public.

But it was not to be expected that our heroine should as yet have become versed in all these refinements of modern civilization.

After they had walked around the Park several times, Miguel said to his sister:--

"See here, Julita, why hasn't Utrilla joined us, now that mamma isn't with us?"

"Because I do not wish it," replied Julita, quick as a flash and with great decision.

"And why don't you wish it?"

"Because I don't!"

Miguel looked at her a moment, with a quizzical expression, and said:--

"Well, then, just as you please."

During their walk Utrilla, with incredible geometrical skill, cut a series of circles, ellipses, parabolas, and other incomprehensible and erratic curves, the focus of which was constantly our friends. When they went home, he took a straight line, so well reckoning the measure of his powers that the outline of his silhouette all the way just came short of being blotted out on the edge of the horizon.

Before going into the house they went to the Swiss restaurant[7] to drink chocolate. While they were there, Rivera saw for a single instant the cadet's face pressed against the window-pane.

"Julita, won't you let me go out and ask that boy to take chocolate with us?"

"I don't wish you to! I don't wish you to!" exclaimed the young lady, in an almost frantic tone.

There was nothing left for it but lo let her have her own way and torture the unhappy son of Mars.

"Maximina, I suppose that you don't know," said the cruel little Madrilena, as they were going into the house, "what we call such lads as the one who followed us to the door!"

"No; what?"

"_Encerradores._"[8]

And laughing, she ran up stairs.

Dinner pa.s.sed in social and friendly converse. _La brigadiera_ was beaming that day, as Miguel used to say; she talked a great deal for her, and went so far as to relate in her pleasant Seville accent a number of anecdotes about people of note in Madrid.

But when they came to dessert, Maximina began to feel somewhat uneasy, because it had been agreed among them all that they should stay at home that evening, and go to bed betimes, for they were all tired, especially _la brigadiera_ and Julita, who had arisen so early that morning.

The problem of getting up from the table and retiring appeared terribly formidable to the young girl of Pasajes.

Fortunately, _la brigadiera_ and Julita were both in good humor; dessert was taken leisurely, and no one beside herself noticed it. As the moments pa.s.sed, her embarra.s.sment increased, and she felt a strange trembling come over her, preventing her, in spite of herself, from taking part in the conversation. And, indeed, just as she feared, the moment came when the conversation began to languish. Miguel, in order to hide the small modic.u.m of embarra.s.sment which he also felt, did his best to set it going again, and his success was remarkable for a quarter of an hour.

But the end inevitably came at last. _La brigadiera_ yawned two or three times; Julita looked at the clock, and saw that it was half-past nine.

Maximina fixed her eyes on the table-cloth and played with her napkin-ring, while her husband, overcome by a decided feeling of awkwardness, made his chair squeak.

At last Julita jumped up suddenly, hurried from the dining-room, and immediately returned with a small candlestick in her hand, quickly went to her sister-in-law and kissed her cheek, saying, "Good night."[9] And she ran out of the room again, with a smile on her lips to hide the embarra.s.sment which she felt in common with the others.

"Well, young people," said _la brigadiera_ arising with emphasis, "let us retire; we all feel the need of rest.... Isabel, make a light in the guest chamber."

Maximina, blus.h.i.+ng to her ears, and scarcely able to move, owing to her timidity, went to kiss her. Miguel did the same; and though he felt a genuine sense of awkwardness, he cloaked it under the smile of a man of the world.