RAIMUNDO'S LOVE AFFAIRS.
Clementina's new love adventure went on in a manner no less childish
than pleasing for her. After the inopportune act of heedlessness which
had brought her to so much shame, she took care for some days not to
look up at Raimundo, though the greetings he waved her were more
expressive and affectionate than ever. This fancy--for it deserves no
better name--was, however, taking such deep root in her imagination that
she determined to indulge it again, and on each occasion she found the
young man's opera-glasses directed towards her. Finally, one day, as she
turned the corner, she kissed her hand to him.
"Really, I have lost all sense of shame!" said she to herself, with a
blush. And it was so true that she did the same again whenever she went
by.
But the situation, though romantic and novel, began to weigh upon her.
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 wishing 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 passing 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 appetite. 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
passed 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 gratitude. 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 embarrassed. "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 blushing 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 assure 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 butterflies. 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 passage 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-glasses
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 illustrious "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-glasses, 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 passed 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 assist 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 sex 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
passive 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
reasserted 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.
But he kept them a secret, as every man does who suffers in this
way--many more than are ever suspected of it--and by constant
watchfulness he kept them under control, knowing how ridiculous a man
thus constituted must appear.
It may easily be supposed what his fate must inevitably be when a woman
like Clementina--a beautiful and experienced coquette--had set her heart
on conquest. At first his extreme bashfulness kept him from
understanding the lady's aim and tactics. He took her gracious bows and
inviting smiles for the expression of her sympathy with their orphaned
loneliness. And when she had made friends with them, and shown him every
indication of her liking, when his sister even had given him a warning
hint, he still could not believe that there could be anything between
them beyond a more or less affectionate good-fellowship, protecting and
motherly on her side, devoted and ardent on his. However, the elixir of
love which Clementina shed drop by drop on his lips, as it were, made
its way to his heart. When he was least expecting it, he found that he
was madly in love. But the discovery filled him with bashful fears, and
he thought that he could never dare to declare it. Though his idol's
demeanour towards him, and constant demonstrations of sympathetic regard
were enough to justify any hopes on his part, it seemed to him so
strange as to be impossible that a shy and inexperienced man, devoid of
all worldly advantages, should find favour with so rich and so beautiful
a woman. Nor could he entirely free himself from the remorse which stung
him from time to time. It was her resemblance to his mother which had
first attracted him in Clementina. Was not his passion a profanation?
But in spite of his remorse, of his timidity, and of his reason,
Raimundo felt himself every day more enslaved by this woman. Clementina,
to be sure, brought every weapon into play; and she had many at her
disposal. In proportion as she found her youthful adorer more bashful,
her own audacity and coolness increased. This is almost always the case,
but in the present instance, circumstances made the contrast all the
more conspicuous. Timidity in him amounted to a disease, a peculiarity
which he full well knew to be ridiculous while he could not overcome it;
on the contrary, the greater the efforts he made, the more his
nervousness betrayed itself. At first he could speak to her with
sufficient calmness, and could allow himself some little compliment or
jest, but he had now lost all his presence of mind, he could not go near
her without losing his head, nor take her hand without trembling; if she
did but look at him his cheeks tingled.
Clementina could not help smiling at these innocent symptoms of love.
She was full of curiosity, and happy to find herself still handsome
enough to inspire the boy with such a passion. Sometimes she would amuse
herself by playing the fish, making him blush, and behaving with the
license and frivolity of a _grisette_. At others she affected to fall in
with his melancholy mood, making eyes at him like a school-girl; or,
again, she treated him with tender familiarity, inquiring into his life,
his work, and his thoughts, like a fond mother or elder sister. Then
Raimundo would recover his spirits a little, and dare to look the
goddess in the face. Clementina would occasionally cajole him by an
affectation of scientific tastes, going up to his study and covering the
table and the floor with his butterfly-boxes. This, which if any one
else had done it, would have brought the house about their ears, only
made the young naturalist smile.
But by this time the lady's acquaintances were beginning to make remarks
on her last and most extravagant love-affair, assuming, of course, that
it had gone much further than was really the case. One Saturday evening
at the Osorios' house Pepa Frias ended by exclaiming to three or four of
the "Savages," with whom she had been discussing the matter:
"You will see. Clementina will end by falling in love with a
Newfoundland dog or a journalist!"
When Raimundo came into the room with his rosy, melancholy, cherubic
face, his diffident, embarrassed air, every one looked at him with
curiosity: there were smiles, murmurs, witticisms, and stupid remarks.
He was much discussed. In general, and especially by men, Clementina was
thought ridiculous; some of the ladies, however, looked more kindly on
the youth, thought his candid looks very attractive, and sympathised
with her whim.
Thus our young friend was regarded as _amant en titre_ to Clementina
before he had dared to kiss her finger-tips, or even dreamed of it. He
was perfectly miserable if she was in the least disdainful, and was as
happy as an angel if she made the smallest show of affection.
Clementina was in no hurry to hear his declaration, though fully
determined that he should make it. It amused her to watch the progress
of the affair, noting the development of his passion, and the phenomena
to which it gave rise. She had had her fill of ravings, and thought it
delightful to be adored with this dumb devotion, and play the part of a
goddess. A mere glance was enough to turn this worshipper red or pale, a
word made him happy or reduced him to despair.
Raimundo went to the Opera whenever Clementina was to be there; he went
up to pay his respects to her in her box, and often, by her invitation,
sat there during two or three acts. Then she would retire to the back of
the box and chat with him there, screened by the curtains. When she was
tired of this, or if some important scene was being sung on the stage,
she would lapse into silence, turn her back on her companion, and listen
to the performance. Raimundo, his ears full of the echo of her tones,
and his heart on fire from the ardour of her gaze, would also remain
silent, though, in truth, more attentive to the music in his brain than
to that performed for his delectation. Sure of not being seen, he could
contemplate the alabaster shoulders of his idol with religious
absorption, and bend down his head, on pretence of hearing better, to
breathe the perfume she used, shutting his eyes and allowing it to
intoxicate him. One evening he put his face so close to her head that he
actually dared to let his lips touch the heavy plaits of her beautiful
hair. No sooner had he done it than he was in great alarm lest
Clementina should have felt it; but she sat unmoved, listening
ecstatically to the music. At the same time, as the young man could see,
her eyes sparkled with a conscious smile. Encouraged by this success,
whenever she had her hair done in this particular way, he ventured, with
the greatest precaution, and after much hesitation, to press it to his
lips. The pleasure was so acute and delightful that it dwelt on his lips
for many days.
But then, one evening--whether because she was out of temper or because
it was her pleasure to mortify him--she treated him with such contempt
all the time he was in the box, leaving him to entertain Pascuala while
she chatted with some more aristocratic youth of her acquaintance, that
poor Raimundo was thrown into despair. He had not even courage enough to
take leave; he stood, pale and crestfallen, a frown of anxiety furrowing
his brow. Clementina stole a glance at him from time to time. When the
other gentleman made his bow, Raimundo, too, was about to take leave.
The lady detained him, holding his hand.
"Nay, wait a minute, Alcazar; I have something to say to you," and she
withdrew, as usual, to the back of the box and began chatting with all
her frank amiability. The young man breathed again; still, when she
turned away to listen to the music, he was so unstrung and confused that
he did not dare to kiss her hair, though it was plaited low, and the
opportunity was propitious.
After a long pause Clementina suddenly turned on him and asked in a low
voice:
"Why do you not kiss my hair, as you always do?"
His amazement was quite a shock to him. All the blood rushed to his
heart, leaving him as pale as a corpse; then it mounted to his face,
turning it to the colour of a poppy.
"I--your hair," he gasped abjectly. And he was forced to cling to a
chair-back to save himself from falling.
"Do not be frightened, my dear fellow," she exclaimed, laying her hand
on his. "If I allowed it, that is sufficient proof that I did not
object." But seeing that he was gazing at her wildly, as if he did not
understand her, she added: "Perhaps you imagine that I did not know that
you care for me a little?"
The young man gave a convulsive cry.
"Yes, I have known it for some time," she went on in a still lower
voice, and speaking into his ear. "But there is something which you do
not know. And that is, that I care for you."
Casting a hasty glance round the house, to make sure that they were not
observed, she took his hands in hers, and her breath was warm on his
cheek as she said: "Yes, I love you--beyond anything you can imagine."
Clementina had not anticipated the effect of these words on her
susceptible and effeminate adorer. The violent emotions he had gone
through, and now the high tide of happiness, so completely upset him
that he began to cry like a child. She hastily drew him into a corner,
filling up the space between the curtains with her person. Her face was
radiant with happiness.
Her conquest, in fact, had a novelty about it which quite enchanted her.
This lover was hardly more than a boy; nor was he one of the herd of
puppies and dandies whom she met at every turn, all cast in the same
mould, devoid of all originality, having all the same vices, the same
vanities, uttering almost the same jests. Raimundo was different from
these, not merely by his humble position and secluded life, nor even by
his talents and culture, but most of all by his character. How sweet a
nature was this boy's! How innocent, how sensitive, how refined, and yet
how impassioned! Accustomed as she was to the monotonous type of Pepe
Castros, every new psychological aspect, every burst of enthusiasm,
every alarm and every joy in her new friend, was to Clementina a
delightful surprise. She was never tired of studying his mind, and would
sometimes affect to doubt his love for her.
"Do you really love me? Are you sure? Remember, I am an old woman; I
might be your mother."
And Raimundo always replied with some fond caress and a tearful glance,
which revealed the depth of his devotion.
From that memorable evening Raimundo could think of nothing but
Clementina. To him the whole world had shrunk into one person, and that
person a woman. Not only did he live and breathe for her, but he thought
of her all day and dreamed of her all night. At first the lady had
received him at her own house, but she, ere long, thought this unwise,
and they took rooms in a neighbouring Street, a small entresol, which
they furnished with taste.
His life had undergone a complete change. From living in absolute
seclusion he suddenly came out into the world of fashion: theatres,
balls, dinners, riding-parties, and shooting expeditions. Clementina
bound him to her chariot, and exhibited him in every drawing-room as if
she were proud of him. For our young friend, with his delicate features,
gentle temper, and superior intelligence, became popular wherever he
went; no one stopped to ask whether he were rich or poor, noble or
plebeian.
Aurelia sometimes accompanied him, but always against her will. Though
she dared not contravene her brother's line of conduct, it was easy to
see that she condemned it in her heart, and was out of her sphere at the
Osorios'. She had become taciturn and grave, and her eyes, when she bent
them on Raimundo, took a sad and gloomy expression, as though she feared
disaster. Clementina did all she could to win her, but she made no way
in the girl's affections; and under Aurelia's modest smiles and blushes
she fancied she could detect a vein of hostility which often
disconcerted her.
Senora de Osorio persisted in the lavish expenditure she had always
indulged in, notwithstanding the rumours of imminent ruin which had so
greatly alarmed Pepa Frias. But the catastrophe did not come as had been
prophesied. The banker contrived to stave it off, giving it to be
understood by those who had money in his hands that there was nothing to
be got by falling on him tooth and nail, as they would not by such means
save one quarter of their capital. On the other hand, they had only to
wait to recover every penny. His wife must, ere long, come into an
immense fortune. His creditors listened to reason, kept their own
counsel as to the state of his affairs, and only stipulated that
Clementina's signature should be affixed, as well as her husband's, to
every renewed bill. Soon after, fortune favoured Osorio in the turns of
the money-market, and he was able to launch out once more, though men
of business looked askance at his dealings, and unanimously declared
that the crash was only deferred. His wife, feeling that she was safe at
any rate, thought no more of such unpleasant subjects. It was only when
she went to her father's house and saw Dona Carmen's pale, worn face,
that her heart throbbed with a feeling which she was loth to confess
even to herself, and which she strove to drown under the sound of
affectionate words and kisses.
Raimundo's love was an extraordinary joy to her. She felt herself borne,
as she had never been before, on a wave of devoted and poetic passion
which rocked and soothed her. She was well content to play the goddess.
She enjoyed showing herself as now amiable and tender, and again gravely
terrible, putting her adorer to a thousand proofs, to make quite sure,
as she said, that he was indeed wholly hers.
But the habit of dealing with men of a different stamp led her into
fatal mistakes, which grieved and hurt the youth. One day, in their own
little rooms, she said, with a smile:
"I have a present for you, Mundo," as she called him for a pet name.
She rose and took out of her muff a very pretty little note-book.
"Oh, that is most sweet!" he exclaimed pressing it to his lips. "I will
always use it."
But on opening it he was struck with consternation. It was full of
bank-notes.
"You have forgotten to take the money out," he said handing her the
pocket-book.
"I have not forgotten it. It is for you."
"For me?" he said turning pale.
"Do you not wish for it?" she said, somewhat abashed and blushing
scarlet.
"No," he said firmly, "certainly not."
Clementina dared not insist. She took the pocket-book, turned out the
bank-notes, and returned it to him. There was a pause of embarrassed
silence. Raimundo sat with his elbow on the table, his cheek in his
hand, serious and thoughtful. She watched him out of the corner of her
eyes, half angry and half curious.
At last a bright smile lighted up her face. She rose from her seat, and
taking his head between her hands, she said gaily:
"Well done! This action raises you in my esteem. Still, you may take
money from me without a blush. Am I not your mamma?"
Raimundo said nothing; he only kissed the hands that had held him fast.
Money was never again spoken of between them.
But still, in spite of his three-and-twenty years, there was something
childlike about the lad which was an infinite delight to his mistress.
It was due chiefly to his solitary and effeminate youth. He was very
easily taken in, and as easily amused; he never had those fits of black
boredom which afflict the spoilt worldling; he never uttered one of the
caustic and ironical speeches which are common even on a lover's lips.
His glee was effervescent and boyish to the verge of the ridiculous. He
thought it fun to play follow-my-leader behind Clementina in their
little lodgings, or to hide and startle her. He would entertain her with
conjuring tricks, which perhaps showed some intelligence; or they would
play at cards with absorbed attention, as though they were gambling for
large sums; or they would dance to the music of some grinding organ,
that had stopped within hearing. Then they would eat bon-bons for a
match, seeing who would get through most. One day he was bent on making
pine-apple ice; he declared that he was great at making ices. All the
apparatus was borrowed from a cafe in the neighbourhood, and after
stirring and turning for some time, he at last turned out an ugly and
untempting mass, which so greatly depressed him that Clementina actually
swallowed a large dose of the liquid. He was fond of mimicking the
accent and manner of any one he had met at her house; and this he did to
such perfection, that Clementina laughed with all her heart; nay, she
sometimes entreated him to cease, for it hurt her to laugh so much.
Raimundo had the gift of observing the most trifling peculiarities of
the persons he met, and imitating them to perfection. It was difficult
to believe that the person mimicked was not speaking. However, it was
only in the strictest confidence that he displayed this accomplishment.
Sometimes if he was in a merry mood he would perform a Royal reception.
He hastily erected a throne in the middle of the room, on which
Clementina must sit. Then the Ministers and high political personages in
turn approached the Queen and spoke a short address. Clementina, who
knew them every one, could guess who each was from only a few words.
Raimundo, having often been present at the meetings of Congress, had
picked up the accent and gesture of each to the life. He was
particularly happy in his imitation of Jimenez Arbos, whom he knew well
from meeting him at the Osorios'. Of course, after each speech, he
kissed the sovereign's hand with a reverent bow, and resumed the paper
cocked-hat he had made for the occasion. These childish games amused the
lady, and helped to open a heart which had always been closed by pride
or ennui. She came away from their long interviews quite rejuvenescent,
her eyes sparkling, her step lighter, and ready to bestow a nod on
persons to whom as a rule she would vouchsafe only the coldest bow.
And then Raimundo would amaze her by some inconceivably childish and
innocent proceeding. One day, when she noiselessly entered their
rooms--for each had a key--she found him industriously sweeping the
floor. He blushed to the ears with confusion, at being discovered.
Clementina, in fits of laughter, covered his face with kisses.
"Really, child, you are too delightful!" she exclaimed.