After thus examining the entire house, we went back to the study, and my uncle took out a cigar, and offered me another one, praising the brand; but, as I did not smoke, I gave it back, so that he might be able, in his own words, “to pay off his debts with somebody else.” While he was taking the first puff, I told him the good news about my having passed my examination. His face lighted up with sincere joy. Two or three times I saw him carry his hand to his pocket, instinctively, while he murmured in a smothered tone, as he still held his cigar between his teeth:
“Well done, man; well done! So another year has passed, and you only have two to go. Bravo! At that rate you’ll soon be building bridges over the Lerez. I vow, I’ll push you forward on the works ordered by the legislature. One must know how to pull out the stops. You may understand all about problems in algebra, and be able to fling equations and logarithms about; but I know all about the key-board.”
When I rose to leave, my uncle got up his resolution, put his hand, not into his vest pocket, but into his inside coat pocket, brought out his pocket-book without saying a word, and took out a greasy bank-note.
How often have I observed that brief struggle in my uncle’s mind between his parsimony and the quick instinct which notified him when and why it was necessary, advantageous, or extremely agreeable to spend his money. I never saw him spend a cent without perceiving that effort and inward struggle in his soul—the painful and longing good-by which he gave to his money. It was evident that reason advised him to make the expenditure, but always had to fight with his temperament. To superficial observers, even if my uncle did not seem lavish, he was far from appearing avaricious; but to me, who studied him closely, with the cruel sharp-sightedness of hatred, his owl’s beak revealed avarice, though checked, kept latent, and in that larva-form to which civilization reduces so many passions or frenzies that, in other days, when the impulses of the individual had greater power, used to reach a tragic development.
My uncle was a frustrated miser; reflection, the power of surrounding circumstances, as well as the desire for enjoyment and comfort which modern society fosters, all counteracted his disposition—for nowadays an old-fashioned miser would appear absurd, and nobody would have anything to do with him. But under the cover of the successful man of the present, who knew how to acquire riches in order to enjoy them, I could see the Hebrew of the Middle Ages, with his greedy and rapacious claws. Whenever my uncle let any money go, he would turn slightly pale, his jaw would drop, and his eyes would be cast down as though to conceal their expression.
Well, he handed me the bank-note, saying: “This is to enable you to attend my wedding. They are selling cheap excursion tickets now, round-trip, do you understand? Yes, they are good for two months, or I don’t know how long, so that will be very convenient for you. Of course, you’ll travel second-class, for third-class is too uncomfortable. You can write at once to your mother what day you expect to start. The sooner the better, because you’ll not only get more pure country air, but you’ll save your board at the same time. Your mother is at Ullosa, and from there to Pontevedra and Tejo is only a step. Come a few days before the wedding. I don’t know as I told you; it will take place on the day of Our Lady of Carmen. There is room enough for everybody at Tejo. It is an old castle, which has been rebuilt and fixed up recently. You’ll not be in the way. Try to make your mother go also; I am afraid she is so queer that she’ll not do so.”
It was getting late in the afternoon, and the man at work at the matting had finished his task; so my uncle put the key in his pocket, and went out with me. We turned down the street, and got on a horse-car. When we came to the Puerta del Sol, instead of going toward the hotel, we took another car and proceeded toward Ancha de San Bernardo Street.
“Come with me,” said the Hebrew. “As it is now vacation time, a little recreation will not harm you. You’ll see some fine people.” Although I suspected what his “fine people” might be, I could not help feeling surprised when a very fine-looking girl opened the door for us. This handsome damsel had on a red calico wrapper, with pink flowers, low slippers, and wore her hair in that style of large bands pasted down over the ears which the women of the lower classes in Madrid have discarded at present for cork-screw curls.
I warmly admired her raven black hair, her beautiful form, her cheeks, where the fresh color struggled to show itself through a thick coating of rice-powder, which she had daubed on hurriedly. Her velvety eyes, bold, but sweet by reason of their fine lashes, fastened themselves upon mine, and said something to me, to which I immediately responded in the same mute language.
Behind this lovely specimen of the Madrid type appeared the head of a younger girl; not so good-looking, thin, mocking, and combed and powdered like her elder sister.