“Your friend Robledo is constantly doing us favors, and yet it doesn’t seem to occur to you that people might think that strange! Why do you think it so extraordinary that a new friend should express his interest in us by letting us live in his house?”
And Torre Bianca, who was so accustomed to yield on every occasion to his wife’s wishes, felt himself yielding once more at these words; nevertheless he persisted for awhile longer in voicing his objections to the idea, so that finally, by way of settling the matter, Elena said,
“Of course I understand your scruples ... but it isn’t as though the house were being given to us ... it is simply rented. I insisted on that point to Pirovani. You will pay him when the irrigation project begins to bring us in some money.”
With a gesture of resignation, the marqués surrendered. Particularly noticeable at the moment was his air of discouragement; and he looked aged and sick, as though some secret malady were eating away his life.
“Do as you like. I have no desire but to see you happy.”
The following day Elena called on Pirovani. It had been arranged that she was to see the house, and look it over thoroughly before moving.
The contractor, pale with emotion at being alone with her at last, received her at the head of the stairs, and escorted her through the various rooms. Elena, playing her part as mistress of the establishment, at once ordered certain pieces of furniture to be moved about; the Italian, meanwhile, overcome with admiration of her taste, looked significantly at Sebastiana the housekeeper; he wanted her too to share his ecstasy over the titled lady’s exquisite discrimination.
Finally they reached the bedroom that was to be Elena’s henceforth. On the dressing table and chairs, spread out in every available space, were innumerable packages all carefully wrapped in tissue paper, tied with ribbon, and sealed; and about each package hovered an aroma of flowers and spices. Pirovani was opening them eagerly, revealing dozens of flasks of perfumes, and boxes of delicate and extravagant soaps, as well as handsome toilet articles; all the enormous order, in fact, brought from Buenos Aires, and that now with its gilded labels, its gorgeously lined cases, its glittering cut glass, caressed the eye and at the same time flattered the sense with its perfumes suggestive of all the marvellous blossoms of a Persian garden.
Elena passed from surprise to amazement; finally she burst out laughing, uttering exclamations of amusement not untinged with mockery.
“How generous of you! But there’s enough here to start a perfume shop!”