"I am afraid that he may not be to your mind, Madrina" (from that moment till the end of his days, Enrique never called Miguel's wife anything else); "for though he is a very distinguished man, he is rather a misogynist,[47] do you see?"
"I don't understand you...."
Miguel burst into a laugh.
"That is, he does not enjoy ladies' company."
"Ah, very good," rejoined the young wife; "I will promise not to trouble him."
"How could you trouble him, star of the morning?" exclaimed Enrique, losing his balance again; "It is worth more to hear you talk than Tamberlik, in the credo of 'Il Poliuto'! What I fear is, that he will not hold his tongue."
The time set was Wednesday, and the hour seven in the morning. The day broke clear and magnificent; in the Madrid streets not a speck of mire could be seen; that which soiled the good name of the Rivera family was purely metaphorical. Miguel and Maximina went to the bridal apartment, which was the third-story room on the same Calle del Baño, not facing the street.
Enrique had rented it after consultation with his lady-love, and had furnished it little by little, bringing every day, like a goldfinch, his bit of straw in his bill: one day the wardrobe; another, a table; another, a couple of cane-seated chairs; and then again, a few dozen of dishes; and so on. The nest was plain and small, but pleasant, like all that is new and prepared for and by love.
Enrique had not told a falsehood: no lady was present or gentleman in dress-coat, except the padrino, who had one on, though it was the worse for wear, to be sure. On the other hand, the worthy women who were present, and the handsome young chulas, showed in their dress a picturesque magnificence very pleasant to see,—rich mantles of burate, brocaded in a thousand colors, and reaching almost to the floor; over that lace or plush mantillas, unlimited shoes of patent leather; in their ears huge pearl pendants; on their fingers enormous diamond rings. The arrangement of the hair was in almost all cases the same—parted in the middle, the hair on the crown bunched up behind, and little corkscrew curls at the temples.
The men for the most part wore a short coat and narrow-brimmed hat; but there were quite a number of toreros, friends, all of them, of the bridegroom; and they wore well-girdled jackets of velvet or broadcloth, according to their standing in the art, tight-fitting pantaloons, and embroidered shirts with huge brilliants in the bosom.