It was doubtless in order to lead up to this piece of news that he had
ordered a caraffe of iced champagne, a luxury always to be enjoyed, and
the more so that the heat was beginning to grow intense and the air to
be parched in Madrid. I held the delicate glass, filled to the brim with
that cool, golden liquid, and could not repress a start of surprise,
when I heard his announcement, so that I dashed a little cascade of it
on the table-cloth.
My uncle avoided meeting my gaze, though I stared at him with my eyes
wide open in amazement. He pretended to be picking up the bread crumbs,
and to be fastening his napkin to his button-hole, but he was looking at
me out of the corner of his eye. As he observed that I did not say a
word, he went on, with a forced voice: “I shall be very glad if you and
your mother approve of my marriage.”
I, in the mean time, was absorbed in thought. Now I understand it. There
is some mystery hidden here. His next neighbor must have lost her
husband, or else they desire to legitimize their offspring. That’s the
way it always works with old bachelors.
Finally, as I thought I ought to say something, I asked in a faltering
tone: “Does my mother know about it?”
“Yes, I wrote to her yesterday.”
“I presume that you informed her of the name of your bride-elect?”
“Yes, it so happens that I first met her at Ullosa, at your mother’s,
and became acquainted with her there.”
When the ice was once broken, my uncle kept on chattering very fast,
like one wanting to free his mind in a hurry.
“It seems impossible that you should not know about it,” he said. “Last
summer your mother and she became very intimate. She is Carmiña Aldao,
don’t you know? Carmiña Aldao of Pontevedra.”
“I don’t know her; however, the name sounds familiar. Perhaps my mother
may have written to me about her. I don’t know. You know I had no
vacation last summer.”
“That’s true. Well, she is the young Aldao girl, the daughter of the
owner of that fine property called the Tejo.”
“Is she an only child?” I inquired, somewhat sharply, thinking perhaps
self-interest was the motive for the marriage.
“Oh, no! she has a brother who also lives in Pontevedra.”
“Well, I don’t know her,” I repeated. “But anyhow, if she is going to
marry you, I’ll have plenty of time to become acquainted with her.”
“Of course you will, as I am going to take you to the wedding, my boy.
As soon as you pass your examination, you must go there with me. The
thing will not take place before Carmen’s birth-day, and between now and
then I have yet to find a house, and to furnish it,--so you see!”
“Ah, so you are going to live in Madrid?”
“Yes, the bride wants to do so. I’ll take you to the wedding, you may be
sure of that. We shall be married at Tejo! Look here, I don’t know what
your mother will think of it. She has a temper somewhat peculiar. So if
you write to her, tell her that I shall not give you the cold shoulder,
when I get married. Until you finish your studies----”
“I believe I didn’t say anything about that,” I exclaimed, while for the
second time the glass of champagne trembled in my hand.
“Well, I do. Don’t get excited, for there is no cause for it. I suppose
that I am master of my own actions, and do not hurt anybody by getting
married.”
“Who talks about its hurting?” I cried, feeling myself turn pale under a
rush of sudden hatred which tempted me to throw myself upon that man.
“Well, if you take it in that way----”
“I don’t take it in any way whatever! You are entirely free to do what
you like; and if you do anything for me, it is not because I have asked
you for it. I’ll pay back to you the money you are spending on my
education, if I live.”
In spite of the fact that he always got very red, when animated by
eating and drinking, my uncle also turned pale. His lips were
compressed, and his eyes gleamed with anger.
“If you were not a whipper-snapper, I’d be tempted to answer you
roughly. What is bred in the bone will come out in the flesh. You are
just like your father, the most ungrateful and ill-behaved man in the
world.”
“Be kind enough not to mix up my father’s name in this matter, with
which it has nothing whatever to do,” I replied, feeling that if I did
not exert my self-control, I was liable to seize the bottle and smash it
over his head.
“I only mentioned your father to say that though one always tries to
help you, you are always growling and scratching. However, I was not
going to get married without telling you about it. It is easy to see
that you don’t like it at all. Come, my boy, have patience. It was not a
thing to consult you about beforehand. The bill, waiter,” he added,
knocking his spoon against the glass.
We had raised our voices pretty high and some of the loiterers at the
adjoining tables turned their heads and looked at us. I felt ashamed,
and frowning, though trembling inwardly, shook the crumbs off my coat
and made a movement to rise. My humiliation had a real and immediate
foundation, seeing my uncle put a bank-note on the plate on which the
waiter had presented the bill. That note I desperately wished I could
have taken out of my own pocket. I breathed more freely (boy-like) when
a good deal of change in silver was brought back--more than five
dollars. With the tip of his forefinger, my uncle pushed a couple of
nickels toward the waiter, and getting up, took down his hat from the
rack, saying dryly:
“Let’s go.” But on emerging from the dark restaurant into the sunshine,
he immediately controlled himself, and, with the adaptability which
characterized him in his business relations and political schemes,
extended his hand to me, saying, half in joke:
“When you feel better, come to see me. I want to show you your
prospective aunt’s photograph.”
I returned to my boarding-house in a very bad humor, feeling
dissatisfied with myself, but without knowing very well the cause of my
mental disturbance. All the animosity I felt toward my uncle was not
sufficient to prevent me from recognizing the fact that, on this
occasion, I was the one who had conducted himself badly. Luis agreed
with me on this subject, when, on questioning me in the evening as to
the cause of my ill-humor, I told him what had occurred.
“Well, my dear fellow, you were altogether in the wrong, and your uncle
was perfectly right. You must have known that he would get married some
day.”
“I don't care a rap whether he marries or not,” I exclaimed, hotly.
“What does it matter to me, anyhow?”
“It matters a great deal,” replied the sensible fellow. “It makes a
great deal of difference to any nephew when his uncle, his mother's only
brother, gets married. It matters so much to you that you are much
worried over the match. But all that you can do is to make the best of
it. Make concessions, you eager fellow, for that's the way government is
carried on.”
“Don't talk to me about matrimonial opportunism!”
“There isn't a subject with which opportunism will better square than
this very marriage. Your uncle is going to get married? Well, then all
you have to do is to make the best of the situation; try to get into the
good graces of your dear little aunt--all the more so as she is really a
charming girl.”
“Have you seen her?”
“No, I have not seen her; but when I was in Villagarcia last year,
taking sea baths, I met some girls from Cambados who told me all about
her. I recall it perfectly.”
“What did they say?”
“Oh, girl's talk. That she is handsome, and plays the piano very well;
that they were going to make her father a marquis, and so forth and so
on. It seems that the girl is not a beggar. I understand that her father
has a fat income.”
“And how is it that my uncle can carry off such a prize, rich,
beautiful, and young? He must have nerve!”
“Are you crazy? What is there to despise in your uncle? Because he did
not care to study much, that does not prove that he is not quick-witted
and a great manager. He has almost as much political influence as Don
Vicente himself, and is certain of a political future. Come now, don’t
be stupid. Go to the wedding and try to ingratiate yourself with your
dear little auntie. Don’t be glum, for it will be all the worse for you
if you are.”
“Well, now, you surprise me. If any one should hear you run on, who does
not know me, he would think that I am deluding myself with false hopes
in regard to inheriting my uncle’s money, and that I am disappointed at
seeing it escape from my grasp.”
“That’s not the question,” argued my friend, resenting my words a
little; “I don’t assert that you are capable of any meanness for the
sake of a bit of cash, or of running after it. But what I do say is
that, until you finish your education, you cannot get along without your
uncle--and I fancy that you don’t want to be left in the lurch.”
Before many hours passed, I began to see that my friend was right, and
had talked common sense. And as our own errors seem plainer, when we
see them committed by other people, whom we consider inferior to
ourselves in mental capacity and culture, I more clearly perceived the
necessity of making the best of the situation, after reading a letter
which the postman brought me the next day.
I recognized its handwriting at once, and saw by its thickness that it
was stuffed with furious complaints and outpourings, such as spring to
the lips or flow from the pen under the shock of unexpected events. In
order to be able to read it quietly, I repaired to a little coffee-house
near by, which was entirely deserted at that hour.
The waiter, after the regular “what’ll it be?” brought me some beer, and
left me in peace. I took a swallow, and while enjoying the bitter flavor
of the fermented hops, broke the seal, and pored over the thin sheets
written in a clear, small, Spanish hand-writing, with several slight
errors in spelling, particularly in the use of double _r’s_ which
indicated great vehemence of temper; without a suspicion of punctuation,
or division into paragraphs, or capital letters. Although it may seem
strange, all these things lend a certain forcible iteration and rapidity
of movement to this kind of angry, feminine letters, really doubling
their effect.
It was just what I had imagined it to be, a furious tirade against Uncle
Felipe’s marriage, alternating with the narration of events, some of
which were entirely new to me. I will copy a few paragraphs without
adding so much as a period or comma, or disentangling the grammar, or
suppressing the repetitions:
“You see now Salustio how much a poor mother suffers without any hope
but that of seeing you well established and being somebody to-morrow or
next day and her greatest hope that your old prig of an uncle might
leave you something whose duty it was to do so if he had a conscience
and the worst of all is that he will have children and you will be left
with your mouth wide open without what belongs to you for although I
call it yours I am not talking nonsense for you must know that your
uncle in the division of my father’s property for my mother did not have
so much as a bed to die on but father left a handsome property and your
uncle grabbed it almost all up and left me almost in the street though I
don’t know how he worked it and set the trap so that I only had three or
four crusts while he ate up all the soft part of the loaf himself I know
not how he consented to give me Ullosa that was a wonder for he took all
the houses and lots in Pontevedra and afterwards fixed up a fine bargain
with the city council and frightened the brave schemers as soon as your
father died whom Felipe bothered dreadfully because he was empowered by
the clergy and compromised him frightfully you can’t recollect about it
for you were but a child when your father died who is now in heaven well
at that time I said to him with great dignity of manner Felipe it is one
thing to be a good sister and another to be obliged to beg and I have a
son and no bread to give him so I speak freely I shall have the
partition looked into for there was cheating there and in this way I
cannot live for I am going to educate my son and he goes on to reply
very patronizingly don’t feel anxious I will not abandon you but will
give your son the best profession to be found don’t go to law for law
suits are the ruination of a property and only fatten the lawyers be
quiet silly creature for whose shall be what I have I am not going to
carry it to the other world and as for marrying I shall not marry any
sooner than the devil does a loose ox is hard to catch I can swear to
you that your uncle said this and I haven’t changed a single word.”
Without doubt, on reaching this point, the moral necessity of attending
to her punctuation must have suddenly taken possession of my mother’s
mind with great force, and in order not to do things by halves, she
added a whole string of periods and two exclamation points side by side...!!
“Oh my son any one who trusts the word of a man without religion or
conscience and now he comes out with his nonsense that the idea of
getting married came to him suddenly I don’t know what he saw in the
Aldao girl she is quite plain and in delicate health and in sober
earnest I don’t know how it will turn out for in her own house she has
the bad example her father sets by being mixed up with her mother’s maid
who has been there for years and two other little girls in the house
who knows if they are daughters or nieces of the gadabout anyhow the
girl takes up with your uncle so they say solely in order to get away
from that infernal place where they abuse her and don’t give her enough
to eat but I don’t know how your uncle will treat her for he comes of a
bad race and is the very image of the Jews who come out in the
procession of Holy Thursday I feel ashamed of being his sister for God
had reason in singling him out for punishment mark my words for I know
that God is very just and they want you to visit them on your vacation
to see their beautiful place I am a silly if the Evil One didn’t tempt
me to bring Carmen Aldao home next summer it will be different I’ll
shine by my absence and we’ll see how they get on if they leave you out
in the cold we will have the partition papers looked into and there will
be an awful time for your uncle cannot make a fool of me and I am ready
to go to law as long as I have any clothes to my back.”
I went on reading the letter, between swallows of the beer. It affected
me differently from what my mother had intended. My uncle’s schemes to
get hold of my inheritance, all that about the partition, instead of
arousing in me justifiable indignation, soothed my mind. I was delighted
to have reason for complaining of my uncle instead of being grateful to
him, and now that I knew his wicked conduct, it seemed to me that the
throbbing of my deadly hatred for him was diminishing. At least I no
longer need feel conscience-stricken for hating him; and that somewhat
consoled me.
I at once wrote my mother a very discreet letter, the very quintessence
of good sense. I advised her to restrain herself, insisting that it was
very unlikely that my uncle who had helped us so far, should leave us to
our own resources at the last, and saying how useless and futile
litigation and lawsuits seemed to me. What had been done, should be left
as it was; for it was of no use to kick against the pricks. It was
absurd to think that a man in the prime of life, strong and
well-preserved, should keep single in order to please us. A few idle
words could not possibly bind him to remain unmarried. As for attending
the wedding or not, we would discuss that matter later. Meanwhile,
calmness and patience.
I read the letter to Portal, who applauded it greatly, saying:
“That is the right way; make concessions, compromise, and avoid the
breakers. That’s what I like. Follow my plan, and at least conform
outwardly, for nobody can see what your inner feelings are.”
“Outside or inside, what in thunder does it matter to me that my uncle
is going to marry? How you do talk!” I exclaimed, feeling hurt. Portal
wagged his head, and I added, “My mother asserts that my uncle’s
betrothed is homely.”
“Who knows? Perhaps she is, and it would be all the better if she were.
Anyhow, she has a pretty name, Carmiña Aldao, don’t you like it?”
“The name--oh, well, that’s good enough.”
“You should try to captivate your uncle’s betrothed,” resumed Portal,
after a short silence. “Yes, captivate her, that’s a good idea. Make her
love you, my boy--I mean no harm--like a brother, or a son, or however
you wish. Anyway, try to make her like you. But do it slyly, skillfully;
be polite; no outbreaks or scandal. Your uncle is an old rooster, and
she is nearer your own age. But be careful, youngster, for you are a bit
like the youthful Werther. Take care, don’t let us have any family
dramas.”