After breakfast Miguel proposed a walk through the Retiro[6]; the afternoon, though cold, was calm and clear. La brigadiera did not care to accompany them, but what delight Julita took in helping her sister-in-law dress, and in giving the last touches to her toilette! She selected the dress for her to wear, and helped her put it on; she arranged her hair according to the fashion, fastened on her jewelry, and the flowers in her bosom, and even brushed her boots. She was rosy with delight in performing these offices. As soon as they reached the street, she walked along by her side, intoxicated with pride, in a sweetly patronizing way, as though saying: "Just behold this young creature, even younger than I am! And yet she is a married lady! Treat her with great respect!"
Before reaching the Park, Miguel, accidentally looking back, saw in the dim distance of the Calle de Alcalá, diminished by the density of the ambient air, the delicate profile of Utrilla, that famous cadet of yore, and he said calmly to his wife:—
"Now, Maximina, though we seem to be mere private citizens going out for a walk to sun ourselves in the Retiro, still we have a military escort."
Julita blushed.
"An escort? I see no one," exclaimed Maximina, turning her head.
"It is not so easy; but by and by I will give you the glass, and see if you will be able to make him out."
Julita pressed her hand, and whispered:—
"Don't mind what this foolish fellow says."
They were by this time in the Park, and Utrilla's profile was growing more and more distinct in the clear and delicious atmosphere slightly warmed by the sun.
Maximina walked along, and gazed with a mixture of surprise and awe at the throng of gentlemen and ladies passing her, and impudently staring at her face and dress with that haughty, inquisitorial look which the Madrileños are accustomed to assume as they pass each other. And she even imagined that she heard remarks made about her behind her back:—