‘At the moment I am from Madrid. The city has been wrecked by a tornado—I myself almost perished.’
He paused, shrugged his shoulders.
‘What will you?’ he added carelessly. ‘What is life—a single life—in Spain to-day?’
Julia winced. It is marvellous how an intelligent woman may blind herself into absolute belief in one man. Señora Barenna shuddered.
‘Blessed Heaven!’ she whispered. ‘Why does not someone do something?’
‘One does one’s best,’ answered Larralde, with his hand at his moustache.
‘But yes!’ said Madame eagerly. She had a shrewd common sense, as many apparently foolish women have, and probably put the right value on Señor Larralde’s endeavours. Father Concha and the General were, however, far away, and all women are time-servers.
Larralde spoke of general news, and when he at length proposed to Julia that they should take a ‘paseo’ in the garden the elder lady made no objection. For some moments Julia was quite happy. She had schooled herself into a sort of contentment in the hope that her turn would come when ambition failed. Perhaps this moment had arrived. At all events, Larralde acquitted himself well, and seemed sincere enough in his joy at seeing her again.
‘Do you love me?’ he asked suddenly.
Julia gave a little laugh. Heaven has been opened by such a laugh ere now, and men have seen for a moment the brightness of it.