MORE INCOMPREHENSIBLE THAN THE HEART OF A GROWN WOMAN, IS THAT OF A GIRL-CHILD

QUENTIN did not abandon the idea of becoming intimate with Rafaela.

He now knew the close relationship that united them. They were of the same family. Things would have to turn out badly indeed not to be advantageous to him.

One morning Quentin again went to his cousin’s house. He found the gate open, and went as far as the interior of the garden without ringing. He found Juan, the gardener, busily occupied in trying to turn the key which let the water out of the pool; an undertaking in which he was not successful.

“What are you trying to do?” Quentin asked him.

“To turn this key; but it’s so dirty....”

“Let me have it,” said Quentin; and taking a large crowbar, he turned the key with scarcely an effort. A jet of water ran into a small trough, from which it flowed through the various ditches that irrigated the different parts of the garden.

“Where are the young ladies?” asked Quentin.

“At mass: they’ll be back in a little while.”

“What’s doing here? How is everything getting on?”

“Badly. Worse every day,” answered the gar[125]dener. “How different this house used to look! Money used to flow here like wheat. They said that every time the clock struck, the Marquis made an ounce of gold. And such luxury! If you had walked through these patios thirty years ago, you’d have thought you were in heaven!”

“What was here?”

“You would have met the armed house-guards, all gaudily attired—with short coats, stiff-brimmed hats, and guns.”

“What did they do?”

“They accompanied the Marquis on his trips. Have you seen the coach? What a beauty it is! It will hold twenty-four persons. It’s dirty and broken now, and isn’t a bit showy; but you should have seen it in those days. It used to take eight horses and postillions a la Federica to haul it. And what a to-do when they gave the order to start! The guards, mounted on horseback, waited for the coach in that little plazoleta in front. Then the cavalcade started off. And what horses! He always had two or three of those animals that cost thousands of dollars.”

“It must have cost him a lot to maintain a stable like that.”

“Just think of it!”

“When did these grandeurs come to an end?”

“Not very long ago, believe me. When the Queen came to Cordova, she rode from the Cueva del Cojo to the city in our coach.”

“How is it that the family could fall so far?”

“It has been everybody’s fault. God never granted much sense to the members of this household; but the administrator and the Count, who is the young ladies[126]’ father, were the ones who brought on most of the ruin. The latter, besides being a libertine and a spendthrift, is a fool. People are always deceiving him; and what he doesn’t lose through foolishness, he does through distrust. Once he bought twenty thousand gallons of oil in Malaga at seventy reales, brought them here, and sold them in a few days, at forty.”

“That certainly was an idiotic thing to do.”

“Well, he’s done lots more like it.”

“What has become of him now? Where does he live?”

“He goes about the city with toreadors and horse-dealers. He has separated from his wife.”

“Did he marry again?”

“Yes; the second time, he married the daughter of an olive merchant: a beautiful, but ordinary woman who is giving the town a lot to talk about. Since he is a fool, and she a sinner, after two or three years of married life, they separated—throwing things at each other’s heads. Now he is living with a gipsy girl named La Mora, who relieves him of what pennies he has left. The girl’s brothers and cousins go into retirement with him in taverns, and make him sign papers by threatening him with violence: why, they haven’t left him a penny! And now that he has no money, they no longer love him. La Mora throws him out of his house, and I believe he crawls back to her on his knees.”

“Meanwhile, what about his wife?”

“She gets worse and worse. She has been going about here with a lieutenant ... she’s a wild hussy.”

The gardener took his spade and made a pile of earth in a ditch to keep the water away from a certain spot.[127] While Juan worked, Quentin turned his ambitious projects over and over in his mind.

“What a superb stroke!” he was thinking. “To marry the girl, and save the property! That surely would be killing two birds with one stone. To have money, and at the same time, pass for a romantic chap! That would be admirable.”

“Here come the young ladies,” said Juan suddenly, looking down the corridor.

Sure enough; Rafaela and Remedios, accompanied by the tall, dried-up servant, appeared in the garden. The two girls were prettier than ever in their mantillas and black dresses.

“See how pretty they are!” exclaimed Juan to Quentin, arms akimbo. “Those children are two slices out of heaven.”

Rafaela laughed the laugh of a young woman utterly lacking in coquetry; Remedios looked at Quentin with her great, black eyes, waiting, perhaps, for a confirmation of the gardener’s compliment.

Rafaela removed her mantilla, folded it, stuck two large pins in it, and gave it to the maid; then she smoothed her hair with her long, delicate-fingered white hand.

“I have a favour to ask of you,” she said to Quentin.

“Of me?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Command me: I shall consider myself most happy to be your slave.”

R............