During the first months of their married life they made various calls, and received an equal number; among others, one from the Galician señoritas whose acquaintance they had made on the train; and they showed Maximina a warm and boisterous affection, appropriate to such maidens. Everywhere the young wife left a charming impression by her simple and natural manners.

"What a good woman your wife must be!" said Miguel's friends, when they found him alone.

The young man would smile with ill-repressed pride, and exclaim:—

"She is just a mere child!"

But he would say to himself:—

"God gave me light."

Marriage had not caused him to lose any of his independence, nor any of those bachelor habits which are so hard to overcome at a certain age. Maximina never demanded, or even asked, any sacrifice of him. She felt herself absolutely happy to be the wife of the man whom she adored; and the daily and commonplace actions of life were to her a source of unspeakable delight.

When breakfast time came, she would lightly lift the latch of the library door, step noiselessly up to her husband, and say:—

"It is half-past twelve now."

While they were breakfasting, the conversation which they kept up was full of affectionate trifles; when their eyes met, they expressed mute caresses; and many times Miguel reached across the table to get his wife's hand and kiss it, much to the young woman's terror and apprehension; she would instantly snatch it away by main force, glancing at the door as though there were danger of some dragon making its appearance.