"Let us join them."
They rejoined their companions and did not again separate from them until they entered the dining-room, where Genday and Tropiezo were awaiting them. The last to arrive was the child, now modestly attired in a piqué frock and long stockings.
The table at which they dined was placed, not in the center, but at one side of the dining-room; it was square and at the sides, instead of chairs, stood two oaken benches, dark with age, as seats for the guests. The head and foot of the table were left free for the service. Sober by nature, Segundo noticed with surprise the extraordinary quantity of food consumed by Don Victoriano, observing at the same time that his face was thinner than before. Now and then the statesman paused remorsefully, saying:
"I am eating ravenously."
The Amphitryon protested, and Tropiezo and Genday expounded in turn liberal and consoling doctrines. "Nature is very wise," said Señor de las Vides, who had not forgotten Rousseau, "and he who obeys her cannot go astray." Primo Genday, fond of eating, like all plethoric people, added with a certain theological unction: "In order that the soul may be disposed to serve God the reasonable requirements of the body must first be attended to." Tropiezo, on his side, pushed out his lower lip, denying the existence of certain new-fangled diseases. Since the world began there had been people who suffered as Don Victoriano was suffering and no one had ever thought of depriving them of eating and drinking, quite the contrary. For the very reason that the disease was a wasting one it was necessary to eat well. Don Victoriano allowed himself to be easily persuaded. Those dishes of former times, those antiquated, miraculous cruet-stands in which the oil and the vinegar came from the same tube without ever mingling, that immense loaf placed on the table as a center-piece, were for him so many delightful relics of the past, which reminded him of happy hours, the irresponsible years of existence. At the dessert, when Primo Genday, still heated with a political discussion in which he had characterized the liberals as uncircumcised, suddenly grew very serious and proceeded to recite the Lord's Prayer, the Minister, a confirmed rationalist, was surprised at the devoutness with which he murmured—"Our daily bread." Caramba, those memories of the days when one was young! Don Victoriano grew young again in going over those recollections of his boyish days. He even called to mind ephemeral engagements, flirtations of a fortnight with young ladies of the Border who, at the present time, must be withered old maids or respectable mothers of families. A pretty fool he was! The ex-Minister laid down his napkin and rose to his feet.
"Do you sleep the siesta?" he asked Segundo.
"No, Señor."
"Nor I either; let us go and smoke a cigar together."