"Then, my dear fellow, I should think...."
But they relapsed into silence. Their hearts were oppressed, and the indifferent tone of the words was not sufficient to hide it. Marta had not once spoken during all the time, and, as she sat in a low chair next the window, paid close attention to her crochet work. Ricardo was lounging on the sofa near Don Mariano. A thousand melancholy thoughts sifted through the minds of all three, and that cheerful room, bright in the pure, brilliant morning light, was nevertheless filled with sadness and silence. When the Señor de Elorza spoke to Ricardo again, his emotion shone through his slightly hoarse and tremulous voice.
"And what arrangements have you made about your house?... Are you going to dismiss the servants?"
"All except Pepe, the gardener, and César, the inside man."
"Have you packed yet?"
"No; I shall have time this afternoon and to-morrow morning."
"And your calls?"
"Really, Don Mariano, the only people with whom I am intimate are you here.... Three or four other calls, and I am done.... I shall send cards to the rest.... What I am most sorry about is, to leave the improvements in my garden unfinished, and the two pavilions in the corners just begun...."
"Don't be troubled about that, I will attend to it.... I will attend to it.... I will attend to it...."
He could say no more. Emotion choked him. Those pavilions had been Maria's idea before the engagement was broken, and this recollection brought in its train many others, all painful, in which his wife, his daughter, and Ricardo were mingled, bringing before his eyes the terrible misfortunes which he had recently suffered. He hastily arose and left the room.