Some friends of Maria Clara arrived and invited her to go for a walk.
“But return quickly,” said the Captain to his daughter, who asked for his permission. “You know that Father Dámaso is going to dine with us to-night. He has just arrived.”
And turning to Ibarra who was deep in thought, he added: “You will dine with us, too? You will be all alone at home.”
“With the greatest pleasure, I assure you, if I did not have to be at home to-night to receive visitors,” replied the young man, mumbling his words and evading Maria Clara’s glance.
“Bring your friends along with you,” replied Captain Tiago cheerfully. “In my house there is always enough to eat. And, besides I would like to have you and Father Dámaso understand each other.”
“There’ll be time enough for that,” replied Ibarra, putting on a forced smile and making ready to accompany the young ladies.
They went downstairs. Maria Clara was walking between Victoria and Iday, while Aunt Isabel followed behind.
As they passed down the street, people stood aside respectfully and gave them the inside of the way. Maria Clara was surprisingly beautiful now. Her paleness had disappeared, and although her eyes were thoughtful, her mouth, on the contrary, seemed all smiles. With that amiability known only to a happy maiden, she saluted friends she had known from childhood who to-day were admirers of her youthful beauty. In less than fifteen days she had regained that frank confidence, that childish chatter, which seemed for awhile to have been left behind in the narrow walls of the convent. It seemed as though the butterfly upon leaving its shell knew all the flowers at once. It was enough that she be given a moment of flight and an opportunity to warm herself in the golden rays of the sun, in order to throw off the rigidity of the chrysalis. New life shone out in every part of her young being. Everything she met with was good and beautiful. Her love was manifested with virginal grace, and innocent in thought, she saw nothing to cause her to put on false blushes. However, she was wont to cover her face with her fan when they joked with her, but her eyes would smile and a gentle tremor would pass over her whole being.
In front of Captain Basilio’s house were some young men who saluted our acquaintances and invited them into the house. The merry voice of Sinang was heard, as she descended the stairs on a run and at once put an end to all excuses.
“Come up a moment so that I can go out with you,” said she. “It bores me to be among so many strangers who talk about nothing but fighting-cocks and playing cards.”