“The—th—the ot—ot—other way,” said the doctor, correcting her proverbial quotation.
Captain Tiago, who had not yet found opportunity to say a word, ventured to ask her, giving much attention to her reply: “So you, Doña Victorina, believe that the Virgin...?”
“That is precisely what we came for, to speak to you about the Virgin,” replied she, indicating Maria Clara. “We have a matter to talk over.”
The maiden understood that she ought to retire. She sought an excuse and went away, supporting herself on the furniture as she walked along.
What was said in the conference which followed was so low and mean that we prefer to omit it. It is sufficient for us to say that when they took their leave all were happy, and that Captain Tiago afterward said to his cousin:
“Isabel, send word to the restaurant that we are going to give a fiesta to-morrow. You get Maria ready to be married in a short time.”
Aunt Isabel looked at him, surprised.
“You will see! When Señor Linares is our son-in-law all the palaces will be open to us. They will be envying us; they will all die with envy.”
And thus it was that at eight o’clock on the following evening, Captain Tiago’s house was again full of guests, only that this time the men whom he had invited were either Spaniards or Chinamen, while the fair sex was represented by Spaniards born in the Peninsula or in the Philippines.
The larger part of our acquaintances was there: Father Sibyla, Father Salví and several other Franciscans and Dominicans, the old lieutenant of the Civil Guard, Señor Guevara, more melancholy than ever; the alferez, who related his battle for the thousandth time, feeling himself head and shoulders above everybody and a veritable Don Juan de Austria, now a lieutenant with the rank of commander; De Espadaña, who looked at the former with respect and fear and avoided his glance; and the indignant Doña Victorina. Linares was not yet present, for, being a very important personage, it was fitting that he should arrive later than the others.