And during the whole evening she did not once again even accidentally direct her eyes toward the box.
Between the second and third acts Saavedra came to speak with them, and sat down behind them in an empty seat. A pale young man with spectacles came along to do the same, and sat down in another seat. Julia introduced them with perfect composure:—
"My cousin Alfonso Saavedra ... Señor Hernández del Pulgar."
Then she showed herself unusually jolly and gracious. The conversation turned on the drama of the evening, which was more terrible and melancholy than usual with the romantic school. Julita, with no little cruelty, parodied the most touching scenes.
"That man makes me nervous who gets angry and is always in a fury and always saying that he is going to fight. I wish he would hurry up about it, and leave us in peace; ay! how stupid! I don't envy that pedantic, detestable young lady her lover! The only thing enviable about her is her facility in fainting away. Tell me, Hernández, what is the name of that señor who is so furious and 'hopelessly given to Barabbas'?"
"Don Marcellino.... What I don't understand is this: why does Mercedes dismiss Fernando as soon as her father dies?"
"Man alive! because the tender sweetheart does not wear full mourning. And what is the young lady going to do without father or mother or watch-dog? Die? I should like to see it!... Tell me; wasn't it very improper for Doña Elvira and Don Marcellino to be alone together so long?"
The young men laughed, and exchanged significant glances.
"Girl! what nonsense are you stringing together now?" exclaimed the la brigadiera, sharply.
Julita blushed, perceiving that she had gone too far; but still she did not cease to be gay and talkative, though it was so manifestly put on that it escaped neither Don Alfonso nor her mother. Hernández del Pulgar left, perfectly carried away by her amiability and wit.