Froth Part 25

At the last moment, when it wanted but a few minutes of seven, Lola Madariaga and her husband arrived. This lady, though much younger than Clementina, was her most intimate friend, and the confidant of all her secrets. She dined with her three or four times a week, and hardly a day pa.s.sed without their driving out together. She could not be called pretty, but her face was so animated, her eyes sparkled so sweetly, and her lips parted in such a bewitching smile to show her little white teeth, that she had always many admirers. As a girl she had been an accomplished flirt, turning all the men's heads, loving to have them at her feet, prodigal of those insinuating smiles alike to the son of a duke or a humble employe, to the old man with a bald head and a bottle nose, or the slender youth of twenty, to the rich or the poor, the n.o.ble or the plebeian. Her coquetry equalised ranks and fortunes, uniting all men in a holy brotherhood to bask in the bright light of her fine black eyes, and adore the delicious dimples which a smile brought into her cheek, with all the other gifts and graces which a merciful Providence had bestowed on her. Since her marriage she still showed the same inexhaustible benevolence towards the human race, but in a less wholesale fas.h.i.+on--that is to say, towards one, or at most two, at a time. Her husband was a Mexican, very rich, with traces of Indian blood in his features.

They had been in the room only a minute or two when they were followed by Fuentes, a very lively little man, ugly and lean, and a good deal marked by the small-pox. No one knew what he lived on; he was supposed to have some small investments. He was to be seen in every drawing-room of any pretensions, and had a seat at the best tables. His t.i.tles to such preference lay in his being regarded as a brilliant and witty talker, intelligent and agreeable. For more than twenty years he had shone at the dinners and b.a.l.l.s of Madrid, playing the part of first funny man. Some of his jests had become proverbial; they were repeated not only in drawing-rooms but in the cafes, and from thence were exported to the provinces. Unlike most men of his stamp, he was never ill-natured. His banter was not intended to wound, but only to amuse the company, and excite admiration for his easy, quick, and subtle wit. The utmost license he allowed himself was to seize on the ridiculous side of some absent friend as the subject for an epigram, but never, or almost never, at the cost of his credit. These qualities made him the idol of his circle. No one thought a party complete unless Fuentes at least put in an appearance in the course of the evening.

"Ah, Fuentes! Here is Fuentes!" cried one and another, as he appeared, and a number of hands were extended to greet him. Shaking the first he happened to grasp, he turned to the mistress of the house, saying in a dry voice which in itself had a comic effect:

"Pardon me, Clementina, if I am a little late. On my way I was caught by Perales. You know Perales; I need say no more. Then, when I escaped from his clutches, at the corner by the War Office, I fell into those of Count de Sotolargo, and he, you know, is saddled with fifty per cent.

handicap."

"Why?" asked Lola Madariaga.

"He stammers, Senora."

All laughed, some loudly, others more discreetly. That the sally was not impromptu was evident a mile off; but it produced the desired effect, partly because it really was droll, and partly because it was a point of honour with every one to laugh whenever Fuentes opened his lips.

A moment later a servant in livery opened the door, and announced that dinner was served.

Osorio hastened to offer his arm to the Baroness de Rag, and led the way to the dining-room. The Baron closed the procession, leading Clementina.

The servants all stood in a row, armed with napkins and headed by the butler. Osorio marshalled each guest to his place, and they soon were all seated.

The table was elegantly and attractively laid. The light from two large hanging lamps shone on bright-hued flowers and fruit, on a snowy cloth, sparkling gla.s.s, and s.h.i.+ning porcelain. This light, however, being somewhat crude, did not do justice to the ladies; it gave everything the sharpness of an image in a camera. To moderate the glare and produce a more diffused light, Clementina had two large candelabra, with coloured shades, placed at each end of the table. All the ladies were in low dresses--some, like Pepa Frias, disgracefully _decolletees_. The gentlemen were in evening dress with white ties.

At first the conversation was only between neighbours. The Baroness de Rag, a Belgian, with brown hair and light blue eyes, and rather stout, was asking Osorio the Spanish names for the various objects on the table. She had not been long in Spain, and was most anxious to learn the language. Clementina and the Baron were talking French. Pepa Frias, who was between Pepe Castro and Jimenez Arbos, said to Castro, in an undertone:

"What do you think of Lola's husband? Really, not so bad for a Brazilian?"

Castro smiled with his characteristic superciliousness.

"He must have la.s.soed many cows in the Pampas?"

"Till a cow la.s.soed him."

"But that was not on the Pampas."

"I know--in a public garden. That is no news."

General Patino, faithful to military tradition and his own instincts, was laying siege in due form to the Marquesa de Ujo, who sat by him.

"Pearls suit you to perfection, Senora. A smooth and slightly olive skin like yours, betraying the warm blood and fire of the South, is peculiarly set off by Oriental splendour."

"Flattering me as usual, General. I wear pearls because they are the best gems I happen to possess. If I had emeralds as fine as Clementina's, I would leave my pearls in the jewel case," replied the lady, showing a row of rather faulty teeth when she smiled, heightened with a few bright spots of dentist's gold.

"You would be in error. A pretty woman should always wear what becomes her most. The Almighty is surely best pleased to view His finest works at their best. Emeralds suit fair complexions; but you are like the Xeres grape: amber-tinted, with a heady and intoxicating essence at the core."

"As it might be a raisin!"

"No, no, Marquesa; no."

The General eagerly repelled the charge and defended himself as valiantly as though in front of the enemy.

Meanwhile the servants were moving about handing various dishes, while others, bottle in hand, murmured in the ear of each guest, "Sauterne, Sherry, Margaux," in a hollow tone like that of a Carthusian monk muttering his _memento mori_.

"I drink nothing but iced champagne," Pepa Frias announced to the servant behind her.

"You need so much cooling," exclaimed Castro.

"You surely knew that," said the widow with a meaning look.

"To my sorrow!"

"Why, are you tired of Clementina?"

Fuentes was not happy under these conditions. It grieved him to lavish his wit in a _tete-a-tete_, so he seized the first opportunity of raising his voice and attracting the attention of the whole party.

"I saw you in the Carrera de San Jeromino yesterday morning, Fuentes,"

said the Condesa de Cotorraso, who sat three or four places lower down.

"That depends on what you call the morning, Condesa."

"It was about eleven, a little before or after."

"Then allow me to dispute your statement. I am never out of bed till two."

"Till two!" exclaimed one and another.

"That is going to an excess!" cried the Marquesa de Alcudia.

"But it is an aristocratic excess. Who gets up earliest in Madrid? The scavengers, porters, scullions. A little later you will see the shopmen taking down their shutters, the old women going to early Ma.s.s, grooms airing their masters' horses, and so forth. Next come the men of business and office clerks, who do all the real work of the Government, milliners' girls and the like. By about eleven you may meet a better cla.s.s, officers in the army, students, civilians of a higher grade, and merchants. At noon you see the larger fry, heads of houses, bankers, and land-owners; but it is not till two that Ministers of State, Directors, Grandees of the realm and distinguished writers are to be seen in the streets."

The whole company were listening, greatly edified by this defence of laziness, and feeling themselves in a position to laugh at it, saying in an undertone:

"That Fuentes! Oh, that Fuentes can talk any one down!"

Then, simply for the pleasure of it, some one contradicted him.

"But then, my dear fellow, you do not know the delights of getting up early in the morning to breathe the fresh air and bathe in the suns.h.i.+ne!"

"I would sooner bathe in warm water with a little bottle of Kananga."

"Can you deny that the sun is glorious?"

"Glorious by all means, but just a little vulgar. I do not say that at the creation of the world it may not have been a very striking thing, worth getting up to look at; but you must admit that by this time it is a little played out. Can there be anything more ridiculous in these downright days than to call oneself Phoebus Apollo and drive a golden chariot? And, after all, the sun has no intrinsic merits; it stays blazing where G.o.d put it, while gas and the electric light represent the brain-work of men of genius. They are the triumph of intelligence, a record of the power of mind over matter, the sovereignty of intellect throughout the universe. Besides, you can always see the sun for nothing, and I have always had a horror of free exhibitions."

The company were all in fits of laughter, and Fuentes, encouraged by their mirth, outdid himself in paradoxes and ingenious quibbles, obviously forcing his own hand now and then. He fell into the mistake of certain over-praised actors: he did not know where to stop, and at last became farcical. From the farcical to the gross is but a step, and Fuentes not infrequently crossed the line.

The Conde de Cotorraso persisted in his defence of the sun to encourage his friend's ingenious abuse. It was the sun which gave vitality to all nature, which warmed the earthly globe, and so forth.

"As to the sun giving life, I deny it," replied Fuentes. "Madrid is much more alive by night than by day, and, as to warming me, I much prefer c.o.ke, which does not give rise to fevers. Come, Count, be frank now.

What particular merit can there be in a thing which, under all circ.u.mstances, your valet must see before you do?"