To tell the exact truth, I did not purpose to win her for myself or even to displace her lover. I was not capable of plotting in cold blood what Luis Portal called a family drama. All that I aspired to do was to discover whether my surmises in regard to Carmen’s inward shrinking from him were true, and whether she could treat me with indulgent kindness. I sincerely believed that if I were to succeed in that, my uneasiness would be soothed and would vanish.
Our manner of life at Tejo was conducive to intimacy. When we returned from bathing, we would take our breakfast whenever and wherever we desired; a liberty highly favorable to meetings with Carmen in agreeable isolation, in the orchard or in the garden. It cost me a great effort to get rid of the acolyte in order to carry out my plans, for he was fond of me, and stuck to me like a burr. While he was reading the papers, or playing checkers with Don Román, or picking cherries and strawberries with Candidiña, I would steal off in search of Carmen. I would generally meet her coming out from the chapel, where she had been to hear Father Moreno say mass.
As soon as I approached I would offer her some flowers, and begin to chat. We talked on the subjects usually chosen for conversation with an unmarried girl; whether Pontevedra was lively, about the Virgin’s festival, about the balls at the Casino, about walks, about how they passed the winter there, about her friends, love affairs and engagements, and other such insipid subjects, fitted, in my opinion, to lead up to some gallant speech.
I found occasion to compliment her slyly, telling her how becoming her dress was, praising her hair, asking her to lean on my arm, while we walked around, assuring her that such a grateful pressure would not tire me.
She never put on a face of indignant virtue at my endeavors to ingratiate myself with her. She received my compliments with a careless, mischievous smile, as much as to say: “Very well; we understand each other; my future nephew is very agreeable.”
She would lean on my arm in accordance with my request, without the slightest hesitation and with decorous cordiality. One day, when I affected a slightly melancholy air, in order to change my tune, she thought I was ill and proposed to take care of me, offering me all sorts of remedies for the body, while I pretended to desire a moral cure. In fact, I could not find an open breach, whereby to attack that little heart.