Doña Amparo hastened, as always, to the rescue of her son.
"It will please me very much if Sabas does not go, for picnics always disagree with his stomach."
"What would it matter to Cristina if I had to stay shut up?" exclaimed the critic with an affectation of bitterness.
"Poor little thing! You get on admirably on late suppers at the club, with olives and champagne."
Martí intervened and cut off the dispute between them, seeing that Doña Amparo was already making ready to faint away. Everyone has his own preferences in the matter of amusements and it was folly to try to impose our own upon others. "Everybody has a right to be happy in his own way," and if Sabas found himself happier under a roof than under the open sky, he had no wish to disturb him.
"All that I beg," he ended by saying, "is, that although he is not to be of the party, that he will let Matilde and the children come with us."
Sabas generously granted this petition, and all friction seemed to be ended; but Cristina, who still wished to tease him a little, said with a mischievous smile:
"Of course we understand that this means the afternoons when she has no buttons to sew on."
"Cristina, Cristina!" cried Martí, half vexed, half laughing.
We all did all we could to restrain our laughter. Sabas shrugged his shoulders with apparent disdain, but remained surly the rest of the evening.