“What the king wears is bibs; let us not get things mixed up. Let me see those prodigies.”
And indeed they were beautifully ironed, so smooth and lustrous that it would have been an unreasonable exaction to require them to be better done.
“Well, for this time I grant you your life. But woe to you if you should ever grow negligent in the performance of so sacred a duty.”
“No, Señor; no, Señor. They shall be whiter and whiter every day. As white as doves.”
“Deign to tell me that in Galician; I intend to begin the study of that language, as I am so perfect now in Greek and in Sanscrit that I cast the professors in the shade. What is dove in Galician?”
“And you are from there and you don’t know that. Well, what a being! It is called pomba, and also suriña.”
“Ah! suriña, how sweet that sounds! I shall begin to-morrow to study the classic tongues; you shall be my teacher. ‘Mademoiselle Suriña; professor of languages; lessons given at the house.’ We will put a card on the window and an advertisement in El Imparcial. Suriña, take those shirts off the bed; they are in the way there. Put them in the wardrobe. So!”
“Oh, Señorito, how upset your wardrobe is!” exclaimed the girl when she opened it.
Esclavita.