“See, there come the wonderful foreign birds of those friends of yours.”
The meeting with “the Amézegas,” as Perico called them, always produced a slight degree of fever in Pilar, which left her prostrate for a couple of hours afterward. When she descried them in the distance she instinctively arranged her hair, put forward her foot covered with a little Louis XV shoe of Morocco leather, and nervously passed her hand over the brown lace of her wrap, bringing into full view the turquoise arrow that fastened it. They would enter into conversation, the de Amézegas speaking in languid or disdainful accents, looking at the sky or at the passers-by and striking the ground with the knobs of their parasols as they spoke. Short answers, lazily given—“What would you have, child?” “It was magnificent,” “More people there than ever,” “Of course the Swede was there,” “Cream-colored satin and grenadine the color of heliotrope, combined,” “As usual, devoted to her,” “Yes, yes, it is warm,” “Well, I am glad you are better, child,”—responded to the eager questions of Pilar. Then the Cubans would continue on their way with titters politely suppressed, half-finished phrases, and a rustle of new fabrics, planting their heels firmly on the ground as they walked. For at least a quarter of an hour afterward, Pilar did nothing but criticise the belles, and others, also.
“They are getting to be more and more extravagant and loud every day. Now, do you like that odd gown with the head of a bird, to match the bird on the hat, fastening every pleat? They look like a glass case in the Museum of Natural History. Even on the fan a bird’s head! It is not credible that Worth should have conceived that grotesque style. I believe they make them at home themselves with the help of the maid and then say they were ordered from Worth.”
“But it is said for a fact that their father is a very wealthy banker in Havana.”
“Yes, yes; they have more tricks than trapiches,”[A] said Pilar, repeating a jest that had been going the rounds of Madrid all the winter, à-propos of the Amézegas.
[A] A sugar plantation in Cuba.
“There is no doubt but that birds are a very curious ornament. I have one, too, in a hat.”
“Yes, in a toque; but that is different. Besides, a married lady can use certain things that in the dress of a young girl——”
“And for that reason Perico was quite right not to buy you that wrap embroidered in colored beads that you took such a fancy to. It was very striking.”