“If mitres had eyes, and could see on what craniums——”
We spare our readers other comments of this nature. Let us enter the home of a private citizen, and as we know few people at Manila, we will knock at the door of Captain Tinong, the friendly and hospitable gentleman whom we saw inviting Ibarra, with so much insistence, to honor his house with a visit.
In his rich and spacious drawing-room, at Tondo, Captain Tinong is seated in a great arm-chair, passing his hand despairingly across his brow; while his weeping wife, the Capitana Tinchang, reads him a sermon, listened to by their two daughters, who are seated in a corner, mute with stupefaction.
“Ah, Virgin of Antipolo!” cried the wife. “Ah, Virgin of the Rosary; I told you so! I told you so! Ah, Virgin of Carmel! Ah!”
“Why, no! You didn’t tell me anything,” Captain Tinong finally ventured to reply. “On the contrary, you said I did well to keep up the friendship with Captain Tiago, and to go to his house, because—because he was rich; and you said——”
“What did I say? I didn’t say it! I didn’t say anything! Ah, if you had listened to me!”
“Now you throw the blame back on me!” said the captain bitterly, striking the arm of his chair with his fist. “Didn’t you say I did well to invite him to dinner, because, as he was rich——”
“It is true I said that, because—because it couldn’t be helped; you had already invited him; and you did nothing but praise him. Don Ibarra here, and Don Ibarra there, and Don Ibarra on all sides. But I didn’t advise you to see him or to speak to him at the dinner. That you cannot deny!”
“Did I know, for instance, that he was to be there?”
“You ought to have known it!”