"Will you not take some chocolate?" asked Clementina, holding out her hand.

"How can you expect a man to drink chocolate when he has just had a sonnet fired off in his face?"

"Mariscal?"

"The very man. In the dining-room--he lay in ambush."

Mariscal was a young poet in the Ministry for Foreign Affairs, who wrote sonnets to the Virgin and odes to d.u.c.h.esses. "But I avenged myself like a Barbary Moor. I introduced him to Cotorraso who is giving him a lecture on oils. Look how the poor wretch is suffering!"

The gamblers looked round, and saw, in fact, the two men in a corner together. The Count was haranguing vehemently, and holding his victim by the lapel of his coat. The unhappy poet, with a rueful countenance, trying to give signals of distress by glances, stood like a man who is being taken to prison.

"Arbos, do you think I am sufficiently avenged?"

He turned on his heel and hastily left the room, not to weaken the effect of his sarcasm. Thus, every evening, he made his appearance at two or three houses, where his wit and cleverness were the subject of constant praise.

The servants presently came with trays of chocolate and ices. Cobo Ramirez seized a little j.a.panese table, carried it off into a corner, sat down to it, and prepared to stuff. Pepa Frias looked about her, and seeing General Patino, called to him.

"Here, General, take my cards, I am tired of playing. Hand yours over to Pepe, Clementina, and let us go into the other room."

The two gentlemen took their seats, and the ladies went towards the drawing-room; but, on their way, Pepa said:

"I want to speak with you on a matter of importance; let us go somewhere else."

Clementina stared with amazement.

"Shall we go into the dining-room?"

"No, we had better go up to your dressing-room."

Her friend was more surprised than ever, but, shrugging her shoulders, she said: "Just as you please; it must be something very serious."

They went upstairs, Clementina imagining that her friend wished to speak of Pepe Castro, and their relations to each other. And as, to tell the truth, the subject had greatly lost its interest, she walked on feeling very indifferent, not to say considerably bored. When they were alone in the boudoir, Pepa took her hands, and looking her straight in the face, she said:

"Tell me, Clementina, do you know how your husband's affairs stand?"

It was a home-thrust; Clementina, though she had no exact information, had heard of her husband's losses, and of his increasing and delirious pa.s.sion for gambling. And in a discussion on money matters they had recently had, he had frightened her in order to obtain her signature; also she could see that he was every day more absent-minded and depressed. But though she could give her thoughts to such matters for a few minutes now and again, the complicated bustle of her life as a woman of fashion, seconded by her dislike of all disagreeable subjects, soon put them out of her head. It never for an instant occurred to her that such losses might seriously affect her comfort or convenience, her ostentatious display, or her caprices. Osorio's conduct gave her every reason to continue in this faith, for he had never desired her to retrench in her extravagance. But the viper was lurking at the bottom of her heart, and at a lash like this from Pepa it began to gnaw.

"My husband's affairs?" she stammered, as though she did not understand.

"I never heard. I do not inquire."

"Well, I am told that he has been losing a great deal of money lately."

"I dare say," exclaimed her friend, with a shrug of supreme contempt.

"But you may find your hair singed, too, my dear. Is your own money safe?"

"I do not know what you are driving at. I tell you I know nothing of business."

"But in this case you had better gain some information."

"But I tell you I do not trouble my head about it, and beg you will change the subject."

In proportion as Pepa was obstinate Clementina was reserved and haughty.

Her pride, always on the alert, led her to suppose that this lady had plotted for this discussion on purpose to mortify her.

"The thing is, my dear, as I feel bound to tell you, that your husband does not speculate with his own money only," said the widow, driven to bay.

"Ah! Now I begin to see! You have a few hundred dollars in Osorio's hands, and are afraid of losing them," said Clementina with a satirical smile, and with difficulty swallowing down her wrath.

Pepa turned pale. A surge of rage rose from her heart to her lips, and she was on the point of casting her fortune over-board and simply railing like a market woman--a style for which she was especially gifted--but an instinct of self-interest, of self-preservation, checked the outburst. If she were to quarrel with her friend, or even to offend her, all hope of saving her capital would be lost. She perceived that the better part was not to provoke her implacable nature, but to hope that friendship, or even pride, might prompt her to an act of generosity. With a great effort she controlled her annoyance at Clementina's supercilious and arrogant gaze, and said, dejectedly:

"Well, yes; I own it. Your husband has in his hands the whole of my little possessions. If I lose it I shall be absolutely dest.i.tute. I do not know what will become of me. I would rather beg than be dependent on my son-in-law."

"Beg! No, you need not do that. I will engage you as my companion in the place of Pascuala," said Clementina scornfully, for her pride was by no means propitiated.

Pepa was more stung by this than she had ever been before, but still she controlled herself.

"Well, my dear," she said, again taking her hands with a caressing gesture, "do not fling your millions in my teeth. If I come to worry you about the matter, it is because I regard you as my best friend. I know, of course, that there is a great deal of exaggeration, and that envy is rampant. More than half that is said about Osorio's losses is probably not true."

"And even if it were, it really matters very little to me. Only to-day my stepmother told me that she meant to leave me her whole fortune."

Pepa's eyes opened very wide.

"The d.u.c.h.ess! And she cannot have less than fifty million francs! Poor soul! I am afraid she is very ill."

"Pretty bad."

At this moment arrogance had the upper hand in Clementina of every instinct of affection. She spoke the two words "pretty bad" in a tone of freezing indifference.

The two ladies had soon come to a perfect understanding. Pepa, still affecting an easy manner, flattered her friend in every possible way: she was beautiful, rich, a model of elegance. Clementina allowed herself to be flattered, inhaling the incense with intense satisfaction. In return she promised Pepa that she should not lose a centime of her capital.

They went down the stairs with their arms round each other's waist, chattering like a pair of magpies. As they reached the drawing-room door, before parting, they embraced and kissed.

And it did not occur to either of them that the embrace and kiss were those of a corpse--the corpse of a good and generous woman.

CHAPTER IX.

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-gla.s.ses 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.