“Well, what do you think of this?” exclaimed my friend. “‘The Señora’ up-stairs, and ‘the Señora’ down-stairs. Chairs upholstered in wool, color yellow,—mirror with a rosewood frame,—a good moquette carpet,—fine jute curtains,—two bronze and porcelain vases,—a lamp with an umbrella shade. It appears the stock-broker is not close-fisted.”
“Why, my dear fellow, what a change!”
“You shall see. The times are changed; still, this transformation was to be expected. The girl got tired of decorating cornucopias with orange blossoms; but at that time she had nothing better than your skinflint of an uncle, who made her account for every penny she spent when he gave her money for sweetmeats. Consequently, when the worthy Don Telesforo Armiñón made his appearance, ready to relieve her distress, you may imagine what followed. The girl thought the heavens had opened. The first thing that the poor creature asked for was a pair of shoes; those your uncle kept her in were all burst out. You know that in Madrid their footgear is what drives them crazy. Now she wears such beautiful shoes!” Here Portal launched a kiss into the air. “There she comes. Stop laughing!”
We heard a rustling of skirts. Belén made a dignified entrance. It was true; no one could have recognized her in that disguise. Her hair was dressed in the classic modest fashion of a lady. She had on a straw-colored velvet wrapper, and in her ears gleamed diamond ear-rings. She also wore rings on her hands, now well-cared for; and as she walked along, we caught a glimpse of the famous little shoes, high-heeled, narrow, of dark satin, her apple of perdition.
She seemed stouter, her movements quieter and more languid, her complexion even fairer and fresher than before, comparable only to the satin luster of a magnolia leaf.
“Have we come at an unsuitable hour?” asked Portal.
Before answering, Belén fixed her eyes upon me; she almost screamed with joy.
“Ah, so the prodigal is found! Is it really you, you scamp? I only had the pleasure of meeting you once, and then you vanished like smoke. So you have been away for the summer? Well, the rest of us have stayed here and put up with the heat and scorching. But how long have you been here?” she added, assuming a still more familiar tone.
“He arrived two days ago,” broke in Portal, “and has been sighing ever since to see such a nice girl as you. He would hardly let me live with his, ‘Come, let’s go and call on Belén. Although, as she is now such a fine lady, perhaps she’ll not pay any attention to us poor students. But I shall get sick if I don’t see her. I shall have an attack of something—’”
“Get out, you fraud!” said the beauty, fixing on me her proud and penetrating eyes with an ardent, yet humble look. “He did not remember me at all, nor want to—not a bit. Since the day of our frolic, if I have met you, I don’t remember about it. And I—well what can a girl do? Your uncle never wasted much on me. What a skin-flint he is! They say that he is married. A nice time his wife will have! Well, I am comfortable now; what they call comfortable. This one is of a different breed. Look,” she added, without giving us time to sit down. “Come and see my little house, it is so nice. It has a boudoir with a grate, and all that. We have no fire to-day because it is not cold yet, do you see? But I am going to tell them to light one now. See? You pass through this way to the dining-room; it is small, but very comfortable; and, besides, we have a beautiful kitchen and a room for trunks. Go back this way. Here I have a nice bedroom.”