Gonzalo made desperate efforts to sustain conversation with his bride-elect and future mother-in-law; but the girl never opened her lips, and Doña Paula was very far from being a Madame de Staël, and as the young man had never consulted the manual of conversation, he could not be called brilliant. In their letters they had arrived at the confidential stage. Doña Paula had put post-scripts into Cecilia's epistles, to which Gonzalo had replied with little jokes; he had sent stamps and caricatures for Ventura, and in every way had comported himself as a member of the family. But now the three were quite embarrassed, for our young friend had never before spoken to the Señora de Belinchon, and to Cecilia he had only addressed the words that we have recorded.
But there in front was Venturita, laughing with her brother; and the engaged couple were quite certain that the merriment was at their expense. Nevertheless, by the time they reached the house they were more at home with each other, and there were signs of increasing friendliness between them. The party collected together on reaching the door of the De Belinchons' abode, which was situated in the Rua Nueva, the best street in Sarrio, and, like all the houses in that quarter, it was large and handsome.
As Gonzalo had not yet supped, Don Rosendo asked him to join them at their evening meal; and the invitation was given so cordially, that the young man, who wished for nothing better, willingly accepted it.
Señor Miranda and his son then took leave, and the Belinchon family, with the newcomer who was soon to be one of them, entered the house.
In the anteroom the ladies took off their cloaks and hats.
The light seemed to make the affianced pair shy. Gonzalo was now well able to see his betrothed, who had not improved with years. She was taller, but also thinner—love affairs don't make girls grow plump; her nose seemed a trifle sharper; but her beautiful eyes, so soft and intelligent, still shone like two stars.
He was greatly struck with the change in Venturita, the child he had seen skipping to school on the arm of a schoolfellow.
She was now a woman, a full-grown woman, not so much from her height as from the roundness and fulness of her figure, and a certain directness of look touched with a dash of coquetry.
They cast a rapid look at each other, as if they met for the first time; and Gonzalo said in a low voice to Doña Paula:
"How Venturita has improved! She is a beautiful girl."