A girl was seated at the piano and playing the first strains of a waltz. Uncle Manolo came very politely to invite Maximina, and she allowed herself to be taken out for the dance. Then Miguel, after a moment of hesitation (caused either by remorse or because he knew how jealous his wife was of Filomena), finally asked the girl to waltz.
"You dance very well, niece," said Uncle Manolo, stopping a moment to rest. "Who taught you?"
"Miguel."
"I am not surprised then; Miguelito has always been a famous dancer."
Maximina had present proof of it, and to her sorrow, for her husband at that moment floated by them, scarcely touching the floor, and holding in his arms his light burden. The young wife did not for a moment lose them from sight. The next time that they crossed in front of her, they were promenading, and the girl had his arm. Miguel looked at his wife, and she replied with a forced smile.
"How does my wife dance, uncle?"
"Admirably! She excels Lola Montez."
"So I see. She has turned you into a watering-pot!"
In fact, great drops of sweat ran down the worthy caballero's brow, and he tried to arrest them to prevent them inundating his side-whiskers.
Maximina soon grew weary, and expressed her desire to sit down. As soon as she had taken her place, Saavedra came and sat by her side; and Uncle Manolo went off to invite some other young lady.