Miguel was the only member of the family that graced the occasion. Julita, who had been told of it by her brother, wanted to go, but her mother forbade it. Enrique likewise did not invite his friends in his own rank of society, for the reason that he gave Maximina; that is, because he did not want to mortify them.
When Miguel's wife made her appearance, a murmur of respect and admiration went round among the guests; some among them were polite enough to take off their hats. Manolita, who, be it said parenthetically, was exquisite in her black merino dress and velvet mantilla, when she saw her come in, was as confused as though it had been the queen, and went to meet her, trembling and with her face aflame.
"Señorita.... I am much obliged.... How do you do?"
"But," our readers will say, "have we not insisted that Manolita was a bold and redoubtable chula, if there are such?"
Now then, you shall see; the majority of these chulas are really, to use the vulgar expression, 'unfortunates'; their exterior is the only terrible thing about them.
The strange thing in this case was that Maximina was as confused and flushed as Manolita was. Instead of having a haughty look or affecting a condescending expression as many ladies would have done to find herself among a set of plebeians, our little matron acted as though she were just making her appearance in an assembly of princes.
The procession started on its march to San José's.
But before we forget it, let us say that among the guests was dexterous José Calzada (a) el Cigarrero, with his band, which unfortunately missed the congenial Baldomero. The famous bull-slayer respectfully shook hands with Maximina, and she, who had shed tears when Miguel described the death of Serranito, gave him a look that spoke louder than words the admiration which his noble conduct had inspired in her.
Manolita also introduced her father to her, that awe-inspiring Cyclops whose acquaintance we have already made; fortunately he had not as yet had a chance to get tipsy; to greet her he doffed his sombrero, which must have weighed half an arroba,[48] and emitted a series of such odious grunts that Miguel's wife was frozen with terror.
The house in the Calle del Baño was all in commotion with this wedding. The procession escorting the pair made an infernal noise clattering down the stairs; the neighbors opened their doors to watch them pass. In the street, also, the people stopped, and shouts, "A wedding! a wedding!" and the questions of the passers-by were heard.