She rejoined the de Mello family and was escorted into dinner by her host. The wife of young de Mello was in no mood to make herself agreeable. Her rake of a husband displeased her the more by paying court to Teresa. He was flagrant about it. And she appeared to find it diverting. The talk had no significance, however, until Antonio chanced to remark:
“I went to the steamer this afternoon to look at our rooms. It was odd not to see Colonel Fajardo swaggering about, cursing everybody in sight. This new Comandante of the Port reminds me of a retired schoolmaster, tiresomely virtuous and well-behaved. Fajardo, now, was a character, wicked enough to please my taste. I miss him. What’s this scandal about his disappearance? You hear the gossip of the wharf, Teresa.”
“This is my first trip south since he disappeared, as you call it, Antonio. I heard nothing about him on the ship. What is the scandal?”
“Merely that he had left his girls and his debts behind him, with no farewells. He had been going the pace for years—I used to hear some wild stories in the clubs and cafés.”
The elder de Mello broke in to say: “More than one jealous husband threatened to shoot him. He was beginning to break—liquor had the upper hand of him—and he fled in some kind of sudden panic, I imagine. A threat, perhaps, and his courage went to pieces.”
“Strange! A born fire-eater and a soldier with a record,” was Antonio’s comment. “The moral is, of course, that one must be virtuous. I shall take it to heart.”
“I hope so,” said Teresa, “or some day you may fly away, pouf, like Colonel Fajardo, and people will say shocking things about you.”
The wife of Antonio was not interested in the petty scandals of Cartagena and low people of whom she was in ignorance. She said something sharp to her husband and began to talk volubly herself, the plans for the summer in Paris, the new dances, the racy gossip concerning persons of importance. Teresa welcomed the respite. She found a glass of champagne very grateful. She had known dinner parties less fatiguing than this one. Antonio turned sulky and glowered at his wife. Teresa excused herself rather early. The elder de Mello escorted her into her own house that he might retrieve the monkey and take it back with him. This gave Teresa an opportunity to inquire, at a venture:
“Did you happen to meet the very tall, fair-haired young man, a Mr. Cary, who was visiting my Uncle Ramon before he sailed?”
“Pardon me, Teresa, but Ramon had no visitors at all. Is this Mr. Cary a friend of yours? Did he say he was expecting to visit Ramon Bazán?”