It was doubtless in order to lead up to this piece of news that he had ordered a caraffe of iced champagne, a luxury always to be enjoyed, and the more so that the heat was beginning to grow intense and the air to be parched in Madrid. I held the delicate glass, filled to the brim with that cool, golden liquid, and could not repress a start of surprise, when I heard his announcement, so that I dashed a little cascade of it on the table-cloth. My uncle avoided meeting my gaze, though I stared at him with my eyes wide open in amazement. He pretended to be picking up the bread crumbs, and to be fastening his napkin to his button-hole, but he was looking at me out of the corner of his eye. As he observed that I did not say a word, he went on, with a forced voice: “I shall be very glad if you and your mother approve of my marriage.” I, in the mean time, was absorbed in thought. Now I understand it. There is some mystery hidden here. His next neighbor must have lost her husband, or else they desire to legitimize their offspring. That’s the way it always works with old bachelors. Finally, as I thought I ought to say something, I asked in a faltering tone: “Does my mother know about it?” “Yes, I wrote to her yesterday.” “I presume that you informed her of the name of your bride-elect?” “Yes, it so happens that I first met her at Ullosa, at your mother’s, and became acquainted with her there.” When the ice was once broken, my uncle kept on chattering very fast, like one wanting to free his mind in a hurry. “It seems impossible that you should not know about it,” he said. “Last summer your mother and she became very intimate. She is CarmiÑa Aldao, don’t you know? CarmiÑa Aldao of Pontevedra.” “I don’t know her; however, the name sounds familiar. Perhaps my mother may “That’s true. Well, she is the young Aldao girl, the daughter of the owner of that fine property called the Tejo.” “Is she an only child?” I inquired, somewhat sharply, thinking perhaps self-interest was the motive for the marriage. “Oh, no! she has a brother who also lives in Pontevedra.” “Well, I don’t know her,” I repeated. “But anyhow, if she is going to marry you, I’ll have plenty of time to become acquainted with her.” “Of course you will, as I am going to take you to the wedding, my boy. As soon as you pass your examination, you must go there with me. The thing will not take place before Carmen’s birth-day, and between now and then I have yet to find a house, and to furnish it,—so you see!” “Ah, so you are going to live in Madrid?” “Yes, the bride wants to do so. I’ll take you to the wedding, you may be sure of that. We shall be married at Tejo! Look “I believe I didn’t say anything about that,” I exclaimed, while for the second time the glass of champagne trembled in my hand. “Well, I do. Don’t get excited, for there is no cause for it. I suppose that I am master of my own actions, and do not hurt anybody by getting married.” “Who talks about its hurting?” I cried, feeling myself turn pale under a rush of sudden hatred which tempted me to throw myself upon that man. “Well, if you take it in that way——” “I don’t take it in any way whatever! You are entirely free to do what you like; and if you do anything for me, it is not because I have asked you for it. I’ll pay back to you the money you are spending on my education, if I live.” In spite of the fact that he always got very “If you were not a whipper-snapper, I’d be tempted to answer you roughly. What is bred in the bone will come out in the flesh. You are just like your father, the most ungrateful and ill-behaved man in the world.” “Be kind enough not to mix up my father’s name in this matter, with which it has nothing whatever to do,” I replied, feeling that if I did not exert my self-control, I was liable to seize the bottle and smash it over his head. “I only mentioned your father to say that though one always tries to help you, you are always growling and scratching. However, I was not going to get married without telling you about it. It is easy to see that you don’t like it at all. Come, my boy, have patience. It was not a thing to consult you about beforehand. The bill, waiter,” he added, knocking his spoon against the glass. We had raised our voices pretty high and some of the loiterers at the adjoining tables turned their heads and looked at us. I felt “Let’s go.” But on emerging from the dark restaurant into the sunshine, he immediately controlled himself, and, with the adaptability which characterized him in his business relations and political schemes, extended his hand to me, saying, half in joke: “When you feel better, come to see me. I want to show you your prospective aunt’s photograph.” I returned to my boarding-house in a very bad humor, feeling dissatisfied with myself, “Well, my dear fellow, you were altogether in the wrong, and your uncle was perfectly right. You must have known that he would get married some day.” “I don't care a rap whether he marries or not,” I exclaimed, hotly. “What does it matter to me, anyhow?” “It matters a great deal,” replied the sensible fellow. “It makes a great deal of difference to any nephew when his uncle, his mother's only brother, gets married. It matters so much to you that you are much worried over the match. But all that you can do is to make the best of it. Make concessions, you eager fellow, for that's the way government is carried on.” “Don't talk to me about matrimonial opportunism!” “There isn't a subject with which opportunism will better square than this very marriage. Your uncle is going to get married? Well, then all you have to do is to make the best of the situation; try to get into the good graces of your dear little aunt--all the more so as she is really a charming girl.” “Have you seen her?” “No, I have not seen her; but when I was in Villagarcia last year, taking sea baths, I met some girls from Cambados who told me all about her. I recall it perfectly.” “What did they say?” “Oh, girl's talk. That she is handsome, and plays the piano very well; that they were going to make her father a marquis, and so forth and so on. It seems that the girl is not a beggar. I understand that her father has a fat income.” “And how is it that my uncle can carry off such a prize, rich, beautiful, and young? He must have nerve!” “Are you crazy? What is there to despise “Well, now, you surprise me. If any one should hear you run on, who does not know me, he would think that I am deluding myself with false hopes in regard to inheriting my uncle’s money, and that I am disappointed at seeing it escape from my grasp.” “That’s not the question,” argued my friend, resenting my words a little; “I don’t assert that you are capable of any meanness for the sake of a bit of cash, or of running after it. But what I do say is that, until you finish your education, you cannot get along without your uncle—and I fancy that you don’t want to be left in the lurch.” Before many hours passed, I began to see that my friend was right, and had talked I recognized its handwriting at once, and saw by its thickness that it was stuffed with furious complaints and outpourings, such as spring to the lips or flow from the pen under the shock of unexpected events. In order to be able to read it quietly, I repaired to a little coffee-house near by, which was entirely deserted at that hour. The waiter, after the regular “what’ll it be?” brought me some beer, and left me in peace. I took a swallow, and while enjoying the bitter flavor of the fermented hops, broke the seal, and pored over the thin sheets written in a clear, small, Spanish hand-writing, with several slight errors in spelling, particularly in the use of double r’s which indicated great vehemence of temper; without a suspicion of punctuation, or division into paragraphs, or capital letters. Although It was just what I had imagined it to be, a furious tirade against Uncle Felipe’s marriage, alternating with the narration of events, some of which were entirely new to me. I will copy a few paragraphs without adding so much as a period or comma, or disentangling the grammar, or suppressing the repetitions: “You see now Salustio how much a poor mother suffers without any hope but that of seeing you well established and being somebody to-morrow or next day and her greatest hope that your old prig of an uncle might leave you something whose duty it was to do so if he had a conscience and the worst of all is that he will have children and you will be left with your mouth wide open without what belongs to you for although I call it yours I am not talking nonsense for you must know that your uncle in the division of my father’s property for my mother did not have so much as a bed to die on but father left a handsome property Without doubt, on reaching this point, the moral necessity of attending to her punctuation must have suddenly taken possession of my mother’s mind with great force, and in order not to do things by halves, she added a whole string of periods and two exclamation points side by side...!! “Oh my son any one who trusts the word of a man without religion or conscience and now he comes out with his nonsense that the idea of getting married came to him suddenly I don’t know what he saw in the Aldao girl she is quite plain and in delicate health and in sober earnest I don’t know how it will turn out for in her own house she has the bad example her father sets by being mixed up with her mother’s maid who has been there for I went on reading the letter, between swallows of the beer. It affected me differently I at once wrote my mother a very discreet letter, the very quintessence of good sense. I advised her to restrain herself, insisting that it was very unlikely that my uncle who had helped us so far, should leave us to our own resources at the last, and saying how useless and futile litigation and lawsuits seemed to me. What had been done, should be left as it was; for it was of no use to kick against the pricks. It was absurd to think that a man in the prime of life, strong and well-preserved, should keep single in order to please us. A few idle words could not possibly bind him to I read the letter to Portal, who applauded it greatly, saying: “That is the right way; make concessions, compromise, and avoid the breakers. That’s what I like. Follow my plan, and at least conform outwardly, for nobody can see what your inner feelings are.” “Outside or inside, what in thunder does it matter to me that my uncle is going to marry? How you do talk!” I exclaimed, feeling hurt. Portal wagged his head, and I added, “My mother asserts that my uncle’s betrothed is homely.” “Who knows? Perhaps she is, and it would be all the better if she were. Anyhow, she has a pretty name, CarmiÑa Aldao, don’t you like it?” “The name—oh, well, that’s good enough.” “You should try to captivate your uncle’s betrothed,” resumed Portal, after a short silence. “Yes, captivate her, that’s a good idea. Make her love you, my boy—I mean no |