THERE were already some fresh arrivals in the drawing-room, among them Ramon Maldonado, and Pepa's daughter with her husband. In the adjoining room, six tables were laid out for cards, and some of the company sat down immediately to play tresillo. Others waited for their usual party to appear. It was not long before the rooms were crowded. Don Julian arrived with Mariana and Esperancita, Cobo Ramirez with Leon Guzman and three or four others of the same kidney, General PallarÉs, the Marquis de Veneros, and several others, most of the men being merchants and bankers.

One of the last to arrive was the Duke de Requena, who was welcomed with the same eager and flattering deference here as elsewhere. He came in snuffling, smoking, spitting, insolently sure of the respect always paid to his immense fortune. He spoke little and laughed less, expressed his opinions with gross rudeness, and sat to be adored by the crowd of ladies who gathered round him. His cheeks were more flabby, his eyes more bloodshot, his lips blacker than ever. His whole appearance was so hideous that Fuentes, pointing him out, remarked to Pinedo and Jimenez Arbos: "There you see the Devil holding court among his witches at a Sabbath."

He was invited to join a party at tresillo, as usual, but declined. He had caught sight of two bankers, whom he was eager to secure for the affair of the Riosa Mines, and he also wanted to pay court for a few minutes to Arbos. He had already contrived to get the mine put up to sale by auction with all its lands and plant. A company had been formed to buy it, but there was a difference of opinion among the directors; some wanted to pay for it money down, and among these was Salabert, while others wished to take advantage of the ten instalments allowed by the Government. The difference in interest was of course enormous.

The Duke made his way to speak to a Mr. Biggs, the representative of an English house, which was largely interested in the company, and the head of the party who were for payment by instalments. He put his arm over his shoulder, and led him into the recess of a window, saying roughly:

"Then you are bent on ruining us!"

And he proceeded to discuss the matter with a bluntness which disconcerted the Englishman. He replied to the Duke's brutal attack with mild and courteous argument, and a fixed benevolent smile. The Duke only spoke with added rudeness, which was in point of fact, very diplomatic.

"I have no fancy for throwing away my money. It has cost me a great deal of trouble to get it at all, you see; and in the long run I may very likely be obliged to escape with my skin by getting out of the business."

"SeÑor Duque, it is no fault of mine," said Biggs, with a strong English accent, "I must obey orders."

"These orders are instigated by an old fox in Madrid that I know of."

"Oh, SeÑor Duque! there is no old fox in the case," said Biggs, laughing.

And the banker could not get anything out of the Englishman, though he left him much to think of.

Pepa Frias, in great agitation, after ascertaining from various authorities that Osorio's affairs were looking badly, was talking matters over with Jimenez Arbos. Every one was of opinion that Osorio could meet his engagements; he had a large capital, and though he had lost heavily at the last few settlements, it was not supposed that he could be seriously hit. It must, however, be added, that none of these gentlemen gambled, as Osorio did, for differences in the market. With him it had become a vice, and, in spite of the warnings of his friends and colleagues, he could not control the passion which sooner or later must inevitably bring him to ruin.

Pepa was watching him closely, and with a woman's keen insight she divined a troubled sea under his cold, quiet demeanour. Arbos was soothing her in stilted and well turned phrases—for not even to his mistress could he throw off the orator—while the widow herself was meditating some means of salvation. Her plan was to give the alarm to Clementina, and extract her promise to snatch Pepa's fortune from the burning, if burning there must be, by pledging her own settlements. Trusting much to her own diplomacy, and to her friend's reckless habits, she grew somewhat calmer, and Arbos took advantage of her restored serenity to exert the exceptional gifts of persuasion which Providence had bestowed on him.

Pepa recovered so far, in fact, as to sit down to cards with Clementina, Pinedo, and Arbos. As she crossed the drawing-room, she saw in a corner her daughter and son-in-law, sitting like two devoted turtle-doves. She stopped to speak to them, and as her temper was not entirely pacified, her tone was sharp.

"Yesterday you were ready to call each other out, and to-day nothing will part you! Come, children, do not sit together all the evening. You should not be so spooney in company."

Emilio was offended by her authoritative tone, the colour mounted to his face, and he was on the point of answering his mother-in-law in the same key, but she was gone into the card-room. So there he was left muttering an oath, and saying that he had never been in the habit of taking a scolding from any one, and he was not going to begin with his mother-in-law, with other equally vehement and incoherent declarations, which made Irenita look very doleful, and would have ended in tears if he had not discovered it in time, and, giving her a loving little nip inside her arm, asked her at the same time to let him have half of the mint-drop she was sucking in her pretty mouth. And hereupon they fell to cooing again, as if they had been in the virgin forest instead of Osorio's drawing-room.

A party of five or six young girls, and among them Esperancita, were talking with a group of the younger men. Two of these were Cobo Ramirez and our intelligent friend Ramon Maldonado. It would be difficult to reduce to writing the ideas exchanged by these youthful talkers. They must have been subtle, amusing, and pointed, if we may judge by the mirth they gave rise to. At the same time the keen observer would have detected the fact that the young ladies' gestures, appealing eyes, saucy glances, and insinuating graces, even their shouts of laughter, had no direct connection with what was said.

For instance, a bland youth remarked:

"I saw you, yesterday, Manolita, at San JosÉ's, confessing to Father Ortega."

The damsel addressed laughed heartily.

"No, Paco, I am sure you did not see me."

"Pilar," said another, "Where do you buy such pretty fans?"

Pilar went into fits of laughter.

"What a joke! And you—where did you buy such a hideous dog as you take trotting at your heels?"

"Hideous, yes. But a darling, you must own."

Such speeches as these excited the most noisy merriment among the young people. They talked loud, giggled and gesticulated. The girls especially seemed to have swallowed quicksilver. Those who had good teeth showed them incessantly; those who had not laughed behind their fans. But the person who made most noise, and gave rise to most amusement was, beyond a doubt, Leon Guzman. Manolita, a vixenish little thing, with black eyes, and a wide mouth full of beautiful teeth, asked him what o'clock it was. He, drawing out his watch, replied that it was a quarter past ten. Then the Count produced his watch, and it appeared that it was already nearly twelve. This subterfuge amused the girls immensely. Manolita, especially, laughed till she was quite limp; the more she tried to suppress her laughter the more convulsive she became. It was very evident that there was in the speech, and beneath the common-place and even stupid aspect of these gentlemen, a well-spring of humour, as fresh as it was deep, such as only young people of from fifteen to twenty can assimilate and enjoy.

When this mirth had somewhat subsided Leon Guzman contrived with some skill to move a little apart, and enter into conversation with Esperancita. This deeply pained and vexed Ramon. For the last ten days he had observed that the Conde de Agreda had cast admiring eyes in the direction of the lady of his adoration. He regarded him as a more dangerous rival than Cobo, being a man of much better position. Cobo, indeed, as he could see, was making no way, and this had comforted him; but now the aspect of affairs had changed. He could take no part in the merriment of the group, but sat making calf's eyes at the damsel in the most lamentable fashion. Esperancita, to his great consolation, was by no means especially amiable to the Count; she seemed bored, indeed, and depressed, looking very frequently towards the spot where Ramon himself was sitting. Behind him, to be sure, were Pepe Castro and Lola, talking with the greatest animation; but of this the young civilian was not aware.

When Leon moved, Ramon led him aside, and in a low tone made his plaint. Leon was to know that he, Ramon Maldonado, was also paying attentions to Esperancita, and was, in fact, hopelessly in love with her. It was a blow he could not bear, that so intimate a friend should come in his way. He pathetically reminded him of their childhood; their sports together, their school-life; and ended by beseeching him, in a voice broken by emotion, that unless he were really attached to Esperanza, he would cease to make him jealous. To all this Leon listened, half ashamed, and half impatient; to be rid of Ramon he promised all he asked; and presently among his intimates he had a good laugh at the cost of the low-born deputy.

Requena, after explaining his schemes to Biggs, sat down to play cards with the Condesa Cotorraso, the Mexican, and General PallarÉs. But in a few minutes he was snorting with rage over his bad hands. In spite of his wealth he always played as eagerly as though it were of the greatest importance to him, whether he lost or gained a few dollars. If luck was against him, he got into a positively infernal temper, grumbling at his antagonists, and almost insulting them. His daughter was not unfrequently obliged to interfere and take his cards to play them in his place. Just now, Clementina was playing at the next table, apparently to her own satisfaction, and laughing at Pepa Frias for being silent and absent-minded.

"By the way, Pinedo, I had forgotten," said she, as she sorted the fan of cards she held. "Why on earth did you try this morning to make your little daughter believe that Alcantara, of all men, was a saint of virtue?"

"That is my secret," replied Pinedo.

"Tell it, tell it!" cried Clementina and Pepa, both in the same breath.

He let them beg and pray a little; then, after bidding them promise solemnly that they would never reveal it, he told them that, having observed a marked tendency in girls to fall in love with idlers and evil-minded youths, and to reject those who were steady and hard-working, he reversed the facts when talking of a scapegrace, in order that his daughter might not fall into the hands of one of them. When a well-conducted, hard-working young fellow went past, he always spoke of him as a simpleton or a rogue; if, on the contrary, they met a man like Alcantara, who deserved the worst character, he spoke of him in the highest terms.

Pepa, Clementina, and Arbos had paused in their game to smile at this strange explanation.

"And has this plan had the desired effect?" asked the Minister.

"Admirably, up to the present time. It never occurs to my daughter even to speak of those whom I have praised for their virtues. On the other hand, she will sometimes say, with a smile: 'Do you know, papa, I met that profligate young friend of yours. He is really very pleasant and nice looking, as you must allow, and seems to be intelligent. What a pity that he should not sober down.'"

At this instant, Cobo Ramirez, who was wandering about, snorting like a tired ox, came up to the table and asked what they were laughing at. No one could be induced to tell. Pinedo signed to them to be silent, for he was greatly afraid of Cobo's tongue. Pepe Castro, too, tired of trying to rouse Clementina's jealousy by his behaviour to Lola without any visible result, softly approached her table with an air of deep melancholy. He posted himself behind Pepa Frias, resting his arms on the back of her chair. Fuentes came up to say Good night.

"Will you not take some chocolate?" asked Clementina, holding out her hand.

"How can you expect a man to drink chocolate when he has just had a sonnet fired off in his face?"

"Mariscal?"

"The very man. In the dining-room—he lay in ambush."

Mariscal was a young poet in the Ministry for Foreign Affairs, who wrote sonnets to the Virgin and odes to duchesses. "But I avenged myself like a Barbary Moor. I introduced him to Cotorraso who is giving him a lecture on oils. Look how the poor wretch is suffering!"

The gamblers looked round, and saw, in fact, the two men in a corner together. The Count was haranguing vehemently, and holding his victim by the lapel of his coat. The unhappy poet, with a rueful countenance, trying to give signals of distress by glances, stood like a man who is being taken to prison.

"Arbos, do you think I am sufficiently avenged?"

He turned on his heel and hastily left the room, not to weaken the effect of his sarcasm. Thus, every evening, he made his appearance at two or three houses, where his wit and cleverness were the subject of constant praise.

The servants presently came with trays of chocolate and ices. Cobo Ramirez seized a little Japanese table, carried it off into a corner, sat down to it, and prepared to stuff. Pepa Frias looked about her, and seeing General PatiÑo, called to him.

"Here, General, take my cards, I am tired of playing. Hand yours over to Pepe, Clementina, and let us go into the other room."

The two gentlemen took their seats, and the ladies went towards the drawing-room; but, on their way, Pepa said:

"I want to speak with you on a matter of importance; let us go somewhere else."

Clementina stared with amazement.

"Shall we go into the dining-room?"

"No, we had better go up to your dressing-room."

Her friend was more surprised than ever, but, shrugging her shoulders, she said: "Just as you please; it must be something very serious."

They went upstairs, Clementina imagining that her friend wished to speak of Pepe Castro, and their relations to each other. And as, to tell the truth, the subject had greatly lost its interest, she walked on feeling very indifferent, not to say considerably bored. When they were alone in the boudoir, Pepa took her hands, and looking her straight in the face, she said:

"Tell me, Clementina, do you know how your husband's affairs stand?"

It was a home-thrust; Clementina, though she had no exact information, had heard of her husband's losses, and of his increasing and delirious passion for gambling. And in a discussion on money matters they had recently had, he had frightened her in order to obtain her signature; also she could see that he was every day more absent-minded and depressed. But though she could give her thoughts to such matters for a few minutes now and again, the complicated bustle of her life as a woman of fashion, seconded by her dislike of all disagreeable subjects, soon put them out of her head. It never for an instant occurred to her that such losses might seriously affect her comfort or convenience, her ostentatious display, or her caprices. Osorio's conduct gave her every reason to continue in this faith, for he had never desired her to retrench in her extravagance. But the viper was lurking at the bottom of her heart, and at a lash like this from Pepa it began to gnaw.

"My husband's affairs?" she stammered, as though she did not understand. "I never heard. I do not inquire."

"Well, I am told that he has been losing a great deal of money lately."

"I dare say," exclaimed her friend, with a shrug of supreme contempt.

"But you may find your hair singed, too, my dear. Is your own money safe?"

"I do not know what you are driving at. I tell you I know nothing of business."

"But in this case you had better gain some information."

"But I tell you I do not trouble my head about it, and beg you will change the subject."

In proportion as Pepa was obstinate Clementina was reserved and haughty. Her pride, always on the alert, led her to suppose that this lady had plotted for this discussion on purpose to mortify her.

"The thing is, my dear, as I feel bound to tell you, that your husband does not speculate with his own money only," said the widow, driven to bay.

"Ah! Now I begin to see! You have a few hundred dollars in Osorio's hands, and are afraid of losing them," said Clementina with a satirical smile, and with difficulty swallowing down her wrath.

Pepa turned pale. A surge of rage rose from her heart to her lips, and she was on the point of casting her fortune over-board and simply railing like a market woman—a style for which she was especially gifted—but an instinct of self-interest, of self-preservation, checked the outburst. If she were to quarrel with her friend, or even to offend her, all hope of saving her capital would be lost. She perceived that the better part was not to provoke her implacable nature, but to hope that friendship, or even pride, might prompt her to an act of generosity. With a great effort she controlled her annoyance at Clementina's supercilious and arrogant gaze, and said, dejectedly:

"Well, yes; I own it. Your husband has in his hands the whole of my little possessions. If I lose it I shall be absolutely destitute. I do not know what will become of me. I would rather beg than be dependent on my son-in-law."

"Beg! No, you need not do that. I will engage you as my companion in the place of Pascuala," said Clementina scornfully, for her pride was by no means propitiated.

Pepa was more stung by this than she had ever been before, but still she controlled herself.

"Well, my dear," she said, again taking her hands with a caressing gesture, "do not fling your millions in my teeth. If I come to worry you about the matter, it is because I regard you as my best friend. I know, of course, that there is a great deal of exaggeration, and that envy is rampant. More than half that is said about Osorio's losses is probably not true."

"And even if it were, it really matters very little to me. Only to-day my stepmother told me that she meant to leave me her whole fortune."

Pepa's eyes opened very wide.

"The Duchess! And she cannot have less than fifty million francs! Poor soul! I am afraid she is very ill."

"Pretty bad."

At this moment arrogance had the upper hand in Clementina of every instinct of affection. She spoke the two words "pretty bad" in a tone of freezing indifference.

The two ladies had soon come to a perfect understanding. Pepa, still affecting an easy manner, flattered her friend in every possible way: she was beautiful, rich, a model of elegance. Clementina allowed herself to be flattered, inhaling the incense with intense satisfaction. In return she promised Pepa that she should not lose a centime of her capital.

They went down the stairs with their arms round each other's waist, chattering like a pair of magpies. As they reached the drawing-room door, before parting, they embraced and kissed.

And it did not occur to either of them that the embrace and kiss were those of a corpse—the corpse of a good and generous woman.