“You do not know what you are talking about. There has never been a steward in my house!”
“Steward. The mistress herself said steward; and the long-tailed rascal grinned and looked at us with his fishy squint as much as to say: ‘I’ll send you to the right about.’ And then he preached us a sermon and looked as sweet as he knew how, and called us all his brothers and crossed his hands and declared he loved us all dearly!”
“Is your mistress in her oratory?” asked Leon.
“I believe she is in her sitting-room.”
Leon went into his wife’s boudoir where he found her talking with Doña Perfecta, a confidential friend whom she took with her when she went out at night. The worthy dueña was startled to see the master of the house, and having no doubt a subtle intuition that a scene was impending, she rose and took her leave.
No sooner were they alone than Leon began, without betraying any annoyance or temper.
“María, is it true that you have dismissed poor Felipe?”
“Perfectly true.”
“Before turning him out of the house you would have done well to reflect that I was very fond of the lad for his attention, his desire to learn, and his thoroughly good heart which covered a multitude of childish and provoking faults. I took him from your mother’s house because whenever he came here, he was in such ecstasies at the sight of so many books....”