“What are you laughing at?” asked the girl, a little offended. “You act like a fool. Tell me whether we are to be married or not.”
“Of course we are to be married. Only I can’t help laughing. Let me laugh or I shall become ill.”
As soon as his laughter had exhausted itself, Inocencia whispered in his ear:
“Will you pass by the house to-morrow at nine? I will be at the window. At that time I always stand at the window to see the mounted artillery pass. It is a very pretty sight. What are you going to be?”
“A lawyer.”
“That’s a pity; then you won’t wear a uniform.”
XIII.
Rogelio was still laughing at himself at the idea of his engagement when they were nearing the bottom of the stairs, for which reason he neglected to offer Doña Aurora his arm, as was his custom. A sudden cry and the sound of a fall froze the blood in his veins as he saw his mother slip and fall headlong down the stairs on the tiled floor of the hall. It is only on supreme occasions that the real depth of our sentiment is revealed to us. Rogelio did not know that there were chords in his larynx or tones in his voice capable of the heart-rending pathos with which he uttered the words:
“Mother! my darling mother!”
He cleared at a bound the steps down which his mother had fallen, and in an instant had her on her feet and was holding her in his arms and pressing her to his heart, examining her wildly to assure himself that she was not dead and that she had no bones broken. Suddenly he uttered a terrified cry.