“And could a paper be found that would print such an iniquity as an entertaining item!” shouted the old general, no longer able to contain his wrath. “Is it the mission of the press to propagate such ideas and sentiments? God help us, sirs, if there is no one left in Spain capable of a blush! Can the press parade infamy shamelessly, and no one be found to repudiate the impudence that relates such a scandal in terms of laudation; or appeal from it to the noble and generous instincts, and sense of public decorum, of good and true Spaniards? Have we become as positive as the written law? In former times, gentlemen, not all gave, but the few that denied did not boast of their refusal. Charity made men
sorry to say no, even to impostors, and, having said it, they would have been silent about it for shame. Avarice was looked upon as one of the disgraceful vices which respect for public opinion required to be kept out of sight.”
“Uncle, for God’s sake!” entreated Gallardo.
“For God’s sake what, nephew?”
“Speak with more moderation.”
“When I do, look towards Antequera for sunrise.”
“Don’t feel apprehensive, general,” said the capitalist, “Je sais vivre.[63] I respect your family, and know how to make allowance for gray hairs and the ill-humor of advanced age.”
“Yes,” instantly added the speaking shadow, “carte blanche belongs to ladies, children, and—”
He was going to add old men, but a look from the general silenced him.
“No, nephew, don’t be apprehensive,” said the latter. “The weapons of a gentleman are for nobler uses than the punishment of insults.”