“You should go to see her,” he added.
“I will go there now.”
“I cannot go, for they do not allow men to enter the Encarnação. How unfortunate! They say she is very ill.”
He accompanied her to the corner of the street, giving her many messages for Donna Felicidade. He was sorry not to be able to see her, poor lady!
He then went in the direction of the Patriarchal. Those daily excursions of Luiza would be henceforth justified in the eyes of the world,—she would go to nurse poor Donna Felicidade. It was necessary that every one should know it,—Paula, the keeper of the tobacco-shop, Gertrudes, the Azevedos, every one; so that when they saw her leave the house to-morrow they should say, “She is going to stay with the invalid, poor lady!”
Paula was standing at the door of his shop, and Sebastião, struck by a sudden idea, was astonished to find himself so fertile in expedients, so full of tact. He pushed his hat back a little from his forehead, and pointing with his umbrella to the portrait of João VI.,—
“How much do you ask for that, Senhor Paula?” he said.
Paula was struck with astonishment.
“Senhor Sebastião is in the mood for jesting,” he returned.
“Jesting!” exclaimed Sebastião; “I am very much in earnest. I want some pictures for the entrance-hall at Almada, but old ones, without lustre, that will harmonize with the dark paper on the wall.”