“When you feel better, come to see me. I want to show you your prospective aunt’s photograph.”
I returned to my boarding-house in a very bad humor, feeling dissatisfied with myself, but without knowing very well the cause of my mental disturbance. All the animosity I felt toward my uncle was not sufficient to prevent me from recognizing the fact that, on this occasion, I was the one who had conducted himself badly. Luis agreed with me on this subject, when, on questioning me in the evening as to the cause of my ill-humor, I told him what had occurred.
“Well, my dear fellow, you were altogether in the wrong, and your uncle was perfectly right. You must have known that he would get married some day.”
“I don't care a rap whether he marries or not,” I exclaimed, hotly. “What does it matter to me, anyhow?”
“It matters a great deal,” replied the sensible fellow. “It makes a great deal of difference to any nephew when his uncle, his mother's only brother, gets married. It matters so much to you that you are much worried over the match. But all that you can do is to make the best of it. Make concessions, you eager fellow, for that's the way government is carried on.”
“Don't talk to me about matrimonial opportunism!”
“There isn't a subject with which opportunism will better square than this very marriage. Your uncle is going to get married? Well, then all you have to do is to make the best of the situation; try to get into the good graces of your dear little aunt--all the more so as she is really a charming girl.”
“Have you seen her?”
“No, I have not seen her; but when I was in Villagarcia last year, taking sea baths, I met some girls from Cambados who told me all about her. I recall it perfectly.”