"Oh, I could never do that! What I am going to ask you as a special favor is, that when we get home, you will let me give you a dozen kisses."
Maximina smiled, and pressed her hand affectionately.
The priest blessed the union of the couple in the sacristy; then they went into the church and heard mass and took the sacrament.
When they went out into the street, the clock was just striking eight. The procession had greatly increased; there were more than sixty people surrounding the bridal couple. As it was impossible for so many to drink chocolate in the rooms in the Calle del Baño, it had already been decided days before that they should go to the Café de Cervantes, which is near the church. They accordingly went in there, and almost completely filled it. A most animated conversation sprang up on all sides, so that soon no one could hear himself talk.
Enrique, flushed with emotion, sat down at one table with Miguel, and began to unburden himself with remarkable verbosity:—
"I know well enough, Miguel, that I might have married a señorita, but don't you see, I have never cared at all about señoritas? They say the trouble is that I haven't any conversation. It may be so. We shall see; Miguelillo, isn't my flamingo worth all the sugar-paste señoritas of the upper ten? And besides, she knows how to work, and that is more than any of these high-flyers know how to do; and she can live on two pesetas a day, and she can put a shawl on her head—do you understand? and take her place in the Plaza de la Cebada,[50] where vegetables are the cheapest; and when we go to the theatre, we shan't have to get a box or seats in the parquet. From the gallery we can see the play well enough, and be well satisfied; and if it is necessary, she can cook the dinner, and there is no need of going with her every day making calls. That comes in handy, my boy! You see, I am going to have forty-three duros' pay now that I am in the active service; my rooms will cost seven; that leaves thirty-six. We shall get along, Miguel; we shall get along! Besides, my mother has promised to help me; she will give me garbanzos and chocolate, and some little thing 'under the rose,' do you see? We've got our rooms all fixed up. It cost me a good deal of work. For nearly a year I have not taken coffee, nor gone to the theatre, nor smoked anything except cigarettes; everything so as to save for this furniture! Man! I tell you that I have gone with one hat all the year, and that I have had my boots tapped three times! But I have done it all with delight for my darling chulilla, who is worth all Peru! Just look, look at her! See what eyes she is making at us!"
Enrique's happiness was so contagious that Miguel always felt happy to be with him.
This lad had often made him think that to be happy in this world one needs only to believe that one is.
They had not yet finished taking their chocolate, when the doors of the café were flung open, and six or seven street-musicians appeared on the scene, and they with their brass instruments made a discordant and unsanctimonious band. They immediately began to set up a waltz or something of the sort. Now, instead of escaping, and hiding in the garret, these people received the band as though it were the Sociedad de Conciertos, and began to accompany the music with their voices, and with their spoons, enough to scare away Mephisto himself.
Maximina got up, not on account of the noise, but because she was anxious about her baby, who was probably getting hungry. Manolita looked at her with timid eyes, as though reminding her of her promise. Miguel's wife threw her arms around her and kissed her tenderly, whispering in her ear:—