“After all, dear, one must have a certain regard for social conventions. No one knows about this yet. Just pretend that the letter hasn’t arrived and that you will receive it in day after tomorrow’s mail.... Yes, that is the best way to manage it. You don’t know this sad news yet, and you are coming with me this afternoon.... What do you gain by remembering it now? There is time enough to think of this unfortunate happening later....”
The marqués indicated that he did not agree with her. Then he raised a hand to his eyes, and leaning one elbow on his knees, he groaned softly to himself,
“She was my mother ... my poor old loving mother....”
They were both silent for a long time. Then, as though unwilling to let his wife see the grief he felt, the marqués took refuge in the adjoining room. Elena, scowling to herself, and in a thoroughly bad humor, could hear him walking to and fro on the other side of the door; and every now and then she heard him groan. Finally she opened the door through which the marqués had disappeared.
“You had better stay here, Federico. Don’t worry about me. I’ll go alone and make up an excuse for your absence. I’ll see you later then, alma mía! Of course you know that the only reason why I am leaving you now is so as not to hurt our friend’s feelings. Oh, what a bore these social obligations are!”
It was strange to hear the gently pitying tones of her voice when at the same time the corners of her mouth were tense and twisted with anger.
She put on her hat and went out. From the top of the stairs she could see the street, that was for once completely deserted. Everyone in town had gone to see the “park,” Canterac and the contractor, each acting independently, having declared the occasion a general holiday, forcing a day of idleness upon their subordinates.
In front of the house there was a small four-wheeled cart in charge of a half-breed who was asleep on the driver’s seat, a Paraguay cigar between his thick bluish lips. A swarm of flies buzzed about his sweat-smeared face.
Elena was thinking now of her admirers who must by this time be impatiently looking for her. They had refrained from coming to get her, inasmuch as the day before she had announced to them that she wished to arrive at the party with no other escort than her husband. Elena had come to believe that a lady always avoids giving any occasion for gossip.
As she turned away from the house and approached the cart, she heard a sound of galloping hoofs. A rider suddenly appeared from one of the adjoining narrow streets. It was Flor de Rio Negro.