Cecilia, suddenly filled with a suspicion, replied: "No; I will stay, too."
"How silly," exclaimed the invalid, "to deprive yourself of the only entertainment Sarrio has given for some time on such a frivolous pretext!"
"Yes," replied Cecilia with the same gravity; "I shall remain."
"But you know this indisposition hardly causes me any suffering. I am rather bilious; four or five hours' sleep will quite restore me."
"Well, I shall remain."
"Then I shall be obliged to go, ill or not ill," she said impatiently, as she rose from the sofa.
"Ventura is right, bag of bones," said Gonzalo, taking his sister-in-law by the shoulders, and shaking her affectionately. "It is nothing. I have had it a hundred times. Why should you give up going to the ball? Here, here! get your mantilla. Ramon has already put the horses in; it is more than half-past nine," he added, pushing her toward the door. Cecilia could not resist him, but before leaving the room she cast a piercing glance at her sister, who avoided meeting it by resuming her seat. Ramon was, in truth, waiting for them with the family coach. The largest carriage was used that evening, as Don Rosendo and Pablito, who were dining in town, were to return with them in the small hours of the morning. During the drive Gonzalo was still chatty and merry, trying to amuse his sister-in-law, who had resumed her taciturn manner. The young man thought that she was still tormented by the recollection of the fatal scene already narrated, and so made every effort to distract her.
Arrived at the Lyceum, Gonzalo and Cecilia went in, arm in arm, and they crossed a large anteroom, where a crowd of young men made way for them, and greeted them with the familiarity usual in little towns. There were several ladies in the salon, all in fancy dress, although the majority of them, like Cecilia, wore no masks. This was an innovation in Sarrio.
For the last five years the balls at the Lyceum had been dreary affairs. But, thanks to the perseverance of Mateo, the flame of pleasure burst that night into a brightly burning bonfire. The youth of the town entered the empty salon like an overflowing torrent, making the place resound with the bright tones of their talk and laughter.
"Alvara, do you know me? do you know me? Why don't you marry? For you are on the road to old age."