At this time he knew, or, to speak more correctly, for everybody knows each other in Sarrio, he became acquainted with, the Señorita de Belinchon. One day his uncle sent him to the rich merchant's house to ask him if he could give him a bill of exchange on Manila. Don Rosendo was not in his office, which was on the ground floor of the house, but as the business was urgent, Gonzalo decided to go upstairs. The maid who opened the door was very alert.
"Come this way, Don Gonzalo; the Señorita Cecilia will tell you where the master is."
He was taken into an untidy room, with heaps of clothes upon the floor and on the table, at which the eldest daughter of the Belinchons was ironing a shirt, in a costume not befitting her station, for it was a scanty, narrow skirt, an apron tied round her waist like a workwoman, and her feet in shabby slippers. She did not blush at the young man finding her in such an attire and engaged in such a menial occupation, nor did she exclaim, as many girls would have done in her place: "Goodness, what a state you find me in!" putting her hands to her hair and her throat.
Nothing of the sort; she suspended her task for a minute, smiled sweetly, and waited to hear what the youth had to say.
"Good-evening," he said with a blush.
"Good-evening, Gonzalo," she returned.
"Can I see your father?"
"I do not know if he is at home; I will go and see," replied the girl, leaving the ironing upon the table, and passing in front of him.
When she had proceeded a few steps she turned back and said:
"Is your uncle well?"