“We have not time to argue that question to-day,” laughed the Argentino, “for the last time will you come to Barcelona?”
“No,” said Patsy, “I can see enough of the sort of fight you speak of at home. I may never have another chance to see a king married.”
XV
THE KING’S WEDDING
MADRID was astir early the King’s wedding morning. We left the Tower at seven o’clock, in order to get to the Puerta del Sol before the cordon of troops was drawn. We were to see the procession from the Hotel de Paris which stands at the angle of the Calle Alcalá and the Carerra San Jeronimo. We should see the marriage pageant cross the Puerta del Sol, the bull’s-eye of the city, pass down the Alcalá on the way from the palace to the church, and return by the way of the Jeronimo. Our friends, the Larz Andersons, had invited us to spend the day with them; we arrived in time for early coffee.
“How could you,” said J, “ask Villegas to let us see the show from the Prado when you had this invitation up your sleeve? This is the best place in the city.”
“I thought it would be so interesting to watch it from the royal museum.”
“So did a few hundred other people! They have been worrying and harrying him for a month. No one is allowed inside the Prado to-day, not even the head porter.”
“I think Don José might make an exception for his family and—for us.”
“Not even for himself. He is responsible for the safety of the pictures. Do you realize what that means?”
Villegas is responsible for one of the world’s greatest treasures, and is uneasy about the safety of the building that contains it. No wonder Lucia complains her husband does not sleep as well as he once did.