She seemed stouter, her movements quieter and more languid, her complexion even fairer and fresher than before, comparable only to the satin luster of a magnolia leaf.
“Have we come at an unsuitable hour?” asked Portal.
Before answering, Belén fixed her eyes upon me; she almost screamed with joy.
“Ah, so the prodigal is found! Is it really you, you scamp? I only had the pleasure of meeting you once, and then you vanished like smoke. So you have been away for the summer? Well, the rest of us have stayed here and put up with the heat and scorching. But how long have you been here?” she added, assuming a still more familiar tone.
“He arrived two days ago,” broke in Portal, “and has been sighing ever since to see such a nice girl as you. He would hardly let me live with his, ‘Come, let’s go and call on Belén. Although, as she is now such a fine lady, perhaps she’ll not pay any attention to us poor students. But I shall get sick if I don’t see her. I shall have an attack of something--’”
“Get out, you fraud!” said the beauty, fixing on me her proud and penetrating eyes with an ardent, yet humble look. “He did not remember me at all, nor want to--not a bit. Since the day of our frolic, if I have met you, I don’t remember about it. And I--well what can a girl do? Your uncle never wasted much on me. What a skin-flint he is! They say that he is married. A nice time his wife will have! Well, I am comfortable now; what they call comfortable. This one is of a different breed. Look,” she added, without giving us time to sit down. “Come and see my little house, it is so nice. It has a boudoir with a grate, and all that. We have no fire to-day because it is not cold yet, do you see? But I am going to tell them to light one now. See? You pass through this way to the dining-room; it is small, but very comfortable; and, besides, we have a beautiful kitchen and a room for trunks. Go back this way. Here I have a nice bedroom.”
“My child,” said Portal, to tease her, “you can’t convince me. You have only changed an open skin-flint for a hypocritical one. Armiñón has more dollars than the sands of the sea, and yet he has not bought you a coach nor given you furniture upholstered in silk. Don’t tell me how generous he is! He owes you a satin divan and a carriage drawn by an English mare, as much as I owe my life to my father. The Sevillana and Concha Rios go about in their carriages dressed like two queens. What good do your beautiful dresses and diamond ear-rings do you if you can’t go to the Retiro to display them?”