"There is some little time yet; still you would do well to begin making your arrangements.... But, friend Mendoza, you are a 'well of science'!" he added, jocularly, not making it at all evident whether he spoke ironically or not. "Ah! that was a meaty discourse that you gave us this afternoon!"
Brutandor inclined his head, and did his best to smile.
"I am not going to be ceremonious with you, gentlemen, for you are friends. Come and take dinner with me, and then we can talk with greater comfort and ease."
And he showed them into a private room where there was a table spread. Neither Mendoza nor Miguel accepted his invitation, but the latter appreciated this kindly hospitality.
The President began his meal, more than once deploring that his friends would not join him; he kept growing more and more expansive and genial with Mendoza, and he overwhelmed Miguel with refined and delicate attentions, now speaking in the terms of warmest eulogy of his father, whom he had known, and now calling to mind some good article in La Independencia; again, asking with lively interest into the details of his life: if he were married, and how long since? where had he studied? what was he doing? etc., etc. He related to them various lively anecdotes, and made some droll sketches of some dead politicians whom he had known in times gone by; of those who were alive he always spoke with sufficient consideration, even though they were in the opposition. Suddenly interrupting himself, he asked:—
"Isn't it true, Señor Rivera, that the President of the Council is a trifle impudent?"
"It used to be said that Richelieu also was," replied Miguel, with a bow.
"I feel that I have his defects, and not his qualities. You can imagine how I envy those reserved, polite, prudent men ... like our friend Mendoza here!"
Again it was difficult to tell whether the head of the government were speaking seriously.
"I do not; it would be depriving myself of one of the greatest pleasures of life."