She soon returned, and Segundo offered her his arm. They descended into the garden through the gallery, and after the customary greetings were over Mendez protested against Segundo's returning that afternoon to Vilamorta.
"The idea! A pretty thing that would be! To expose yourself to the heat twice in the same day!"
And Señor de las Vides, availing himself of an opportunity which no rural proprietor ever lets slip, took possession of the poet and gave himself up to the task of showing him over the estate. He explained to him at the same time his viticultural enterprises. He had been among the first to employ sulphur fumigation with success, and he was now using new manures which would perhaps solve the problem of grape cultivation. He was making experiments with the common wine of the Border, trying to make with it an imitation of the rich Bordeaux; to impart to it, with powdered lily-root, the bouquet, the fragrance, of the French wines. But he had to contend against the spirit of routine, fanaticism, as he said, confidentially lowering his voice and laying his hand on Segundo's shoulder. The other vine-growers accused him of disregarding the wholesome traditions of the country, of adulterating and making up wine. As if they themselves did not make it up. Only that they did so, using common drugs for the purpose—logwood and nightshade. He contented himself with employing rational methods, scientific discoveries, the improvements of modern chemistry, condemning the absurd custom of using pitch in the skins, for although the people of the Border approved of the taste of pitch in the wine, saying that the pitch excited thirst, the exporters disliked, and with reason, the stickiness imparted by it. In short, if Segundo would like to see the wine vaults and the presses——
There was no help for it. Nieves remained at the door, fearing to soil her dress. When they came out they proceeded to inspect the garden in detail. The garden, too, was a series of walls built one above another, like the steps of a stairs, sustaining narrow belts of earth, and this arrangement of the ground gave the vegetation an exuberance that was almost tropical. Camellias, peach trees, and lemon trees grew in wild luxuriance, laden at once with leaves, fruits, and blossoms. Bees and butterflies circled and hummed around them, sipping their sweets, wild with the joy of mere existence and drunken with the sunshine. They ascended by steep steps from wall to wall. Segundo gave his arm to Nieves and at the last step they paused to look at the river flowing below.
"Look there," said Segundo, pointing to a distant hill on his left. "There is the pine grove. I wager you have forgotten."
"I have not forgotten," responded Nieves, winking her blue eyes dazzled by the sun; "the pine grove that sings. You see that I have not forgotten. And tell me, do you know if it will sing to-day? For I should greatly like to hear it sing this afternoon."
"If a breeze rises. With the air as still as it is now, the pines will be almost motionless and almost silent. And I say almost, for they are never quite silent. The friction of their tops is sufficient to cause a peculiar vibration, to produce a murmur——"
"And does that happen," asked Nieves jestingly, "only with the pines here or is it the same with all pines?"
"I cannot say," answered Segundo, looking at her fixedly. "Perhaps the only pine grove that will ever sing for me will be that of Las Vides."
Nieves lowered her eyes, and then glanced round, as if in search of Don Victoriano and Mendez, who were on one of the steps above them. Segundo observed the movement and with rude imperiousness said to Nieves: