Her daughter-in-law hurried to bring her flask of salts, and she began to smell it. Martí also assisted, with filial solicitude. Both showered a thousand affectionate attentions upon her, soothing her and making excuses. Thanks more to their tender words, I think, than to the salts, the sensitive mother recovered her faculties. When these were restored, she tenderly kissed her daughter-in-law's brow and seized Martí's hand, begging pardon for having offended them.
As I already knew a little of the character and whims of Doña Amparo, I was not surprised that Retamoso and his wife, Isabelita and Castell, paid scarcely any attention to this incident, and went on talking among themselves as if nothing had happened. Sabas, the cause of the disquiet, tranquilly smoked his pipe.
As soon as he had calmed his mother-in-law, Martí invited me to come with him that he might show me the room intended for me. It was luxurious and elegant, exceedingly luxurious it seemed to me who had passed my life in the narrow confines of a ship's cabin, or in our modest dwelling at Alicante. When we reached this room, a maid was making ready my bed under the señora's inspection. As we entered unheard she was herself smoothing the sheets with her delicate hands. Our footsteps made her lift her head, and as if she had been caught doing something wrong, she seemed annoyed, relinquished her task, and said to the maid with an ill-tempered accent:
"Well, you may go on with this, and see if you can finish it quickly."
She was going out, but her husband detained her, taking her hand.
"Have orders been given for bringing up cold coffee and cognac?"
"Yes, yes; Regina will stay and see to everything," she replied with some impatience, drawing away her hand and walking out.
I enjoyed her embarrassment with ill-concealed delight. As we went out again into the corridor I said to Martí, to make talk, and also out of curiosity:
"It seems to me that Doña Amparo was a good deal upset."
"You saw that!" he exclaimed, laughing in the frank and cordial manner that characterized him. "The least thing upsets her. The poor thing is so good! I am as fond of her as if she were my own mother. Her one desire is for us to love her. She is so sensitive that the least little sign of indifference, the smallest neglect, affects her deeply, and almost makes her ill. For that matter, although we all go on carefully, and are very attentive to her, it is not enough. Fancy this! I have taken up the custom of kissing her good-night before going to bed! If by bad luck I forget it for one day, the poor lady cannot sleep, thinking that I am vexed with her, wondering if she has offended me without knowing it; and next day she casts timid, anguished glances at me that I do not understand until my wife explains the enigma to me. I laugh, and go and smooth her down."