“Great news, Suriña! This summer we are to go home—all of us.”
What Rogelio was saying to the girl with so much eagerness was:
“Great news, Suriña! This summer we are to go home—all of us. Mamma has promised me.”
XVIII.
Señora de Pardiñas was now pronounced entirely well, and the advisability of her going out for a walk was being considered, when one morning, at the hour when Rogelio had his lecture on Political Economy, an hour which was unusually early for visitors, Don Nicanor arrived, smiling, and seemingly in a very good humor. He pretended to be surprised at finding none of the accustomed visitors there, whereupon Doña Aurora, who was knitting a woolen stocking, answered with much show of reason that as it wanted at least two hours to the usual time of their arrival, it was not strange that none of them had yet come. But apparently Lain Calvo did not hear this answer, for he had kept his ear trumpet in his pocket, using his hand as a substitute.
“Tell me, Doña Aurora, have you not noticed something?” he asked, settling himself comfortably in his easy-chair, whose broad back already bore the impress of his form.
Doña Aurora raised her eyes with an expression that seemed to say: No—that is to say, I don’t know. Do me the favor to explain yourself.
“Did you not notice the other day, the day that Pacha and I were here——”
“Yes, yes; I know—Friday.”
“How dejected the wife of Rojas seemed?”