fawns across country, climbing trees to get cherries and figs and apples, drinking water from their hands, making excursions on mule-back to neighboring villages (what fun! what a good time they did have, madre mia!), and taking part in farm work, and drinking milk just brought in by the man from the milking.

"This sister Carolina of ours becomes unendurable as soon as we get there. She sets out early in the morning, and no one knows anything about her till dinner time; and before dinner is fairly over, she is off again, and does not get back till night!"

"How you do talk, Lola! I go out with the other girls to hunt for nests or wash clothes down by the river.... But you spend your mortal hours exchanging small talk with some silly gallant who dances attendance on you...."

"Heavens! what a cruel thing to say. I must hope, Señor Rivera, that you will not put any credence in such nonsense, without any foundation in fact.... Just imagine! all the gallants in that place are farm hands!"

"That makes no difference," replied Miguel. "Farm hands also have hearts and can love beautiful objects. I have no doubt that you have many a suitor among them."

"As to that," replied Lola, with a blush, "if I must tell the truth—yes, sir, they are very fond of me. Every year, as soon as it is known that we have come, the young men make their arrangement to give me a serenade, and they even cut down a little tree so as to get in front of my window."

"The serenade was not for you alone," interrupted Carolina, warmly.... "It is for all of us."

"But the tree was mine," replied Lola, with some show of ill-temper.

"The tree! very good; but not the serenade," replied the other, somewhat piqued.

Lola gave her a sharp look, and went on: "Judge for yourself, Señor Rivera, whether it does not show that they are in love with me: when the engineers came to build a bridge, I said that I did not like the place where they had made their arrangements to put it, but I wanted it farther back, ... and as soon as the young men of the village heard what I had said, they made a formal visit to the engineers and told them that the bridge must be put where the señorita wanted it, and that no other site for it must be thought of, because they would put a stop to it; and as the engineers were not willing to change their plans, the result was, the bridge was not built till four years ago."

"All this," said Miguel, "is not so much to your honor as to that of those intelligent young men!"

"They are such nice boys!"

"Nothing so sanctifies the soul as love and admiration," exclaimed Rivera, sententiously.

Lola said, "Ah!" and blushed.

These three ladies were dressed in an improbable, and, if we may be allowed the expression, an anachronistic style: their dresses were beautiful, picturesque, and even rather fantastic, such as suited only maidens of fifteen. Carolina wore her hair in two braids with silk ribbons in the ends, and constricted her flabby and wrinkled neck with a blue velvet band from which hung a little emerald crucifix: the others, in their attempt to be a little more fashionable, had their hair done up, but they wore just as many ribbons and other ornaments.

The evening was already at hand.

The Cuervo family proposed to have dinner, and hospitably invited their new-made friends to partake of the luncheon that they had brought with them; Rivera and his bride accepted, and likewise offered to share their provisions, and with all good-fellowship and friendliness they all set to work to make way with them, having first spread napkins over their knees.

The brother, who had waked up just in time, fed like an elephant; during dinner time he made few remarks, but they were to the point: one of them was this:—

"I am a regular eagle as far as tomatoes are concerned!"

Miguel sat in silent wonder for some time, but at last he began to appreciate the depth hidden in this hyperbolical sentence.

A close intimacy had sprang up among them all. Dolores, not satisfied with calling Miguel by his Christian name, instead of his title, proposed that she and Maximina should go to the extent of addressing each other with "thou":—

"I cannot feel that a person is my friend unless I can 'thee and thou' her.... Besides, it is customary among girls."

The bride smiled timidly at this strange proposition, and the Galician ladies, without further excuse began to make use of the second personal pronoun. But Maximina, though warmly urged, could not bring herself to such a degree of intimacy, and before she knew it, she dropped into the ordinary form,[4] whereupon the Cuervo ladies showed that they felt affronted; the poor child found herself obliged to make use of numberless round-about expressions to avoid addressing them directly.

Miguel, in order to take a humorous revenge upon them for the annoyance that they caused his wife, began in turn to speak to them with great familiarity; and, though this for a moment surprised them, they took it in perfectly good part. Not satisfied with this, he soon took occasion to shake the white-mustachioed gentleman rudely by the arm, saying:—

"See here, old boy, don't sleep so much! Wouldn't you like a little gin?"

Don Nazario—for that was his name—opened his eyes in sudden terror, drained the cup that was offered him, and immediately fell into another doze.

It was really time for them all to do the same. So Miguel drew the shade of the lamp, and so "that the light might not trouble their eyes," he also doubled around it a folded newspaper. Thus the car was made dark; only the pale starlight gleamed in through the windows.

It was a clear, cold January night, such as are peculiar to the plains of Castille. Each passenger got into the most comfortable position possible, snuggling down into the corners. Rivera said to his wife:—

"Lean your head on my shoulder. I cannot sleep in the train."

The girl did as she was bidden, in spite of herself; she was afraid of incommoding him.

All was quiet. Miguel managed to get hold of one of her hands, and gently caressed it. After a while, leaning his head over and touching his lips to his wife's brow, he whispered very softly:—

"Maximina, I adore you," and then he repeated the words with even more emotion, "Te adóro, te adóro!"

The girl did not reply; but feigned to be asleep. Miguel asked with persuasive voice:—

"Do you love me? Do you?"

The same immobility.

"Tell me! do you love me?"

Then Maximina, without opening her eyes, made a slight sign of assent, and added:—

"I am very sleepy."

Miguel, perceiving the trembling of her hands, smiled, and said:—

"Then go to sleep, darling."

And now nothing was to be heard in the compartment, except Don Nazario's snoring, in which he was a specialist. He usually began to snore in a deliberate and solemn manner, in decided, full pulsations; gradually it increased in energy, the periods became shorter and more energetic, and at the same time a sort of guttural note was introduced, which was scarcely perceptible at first; from the nostrils the voice descended into the gullet, rising and falling alternately for a long time. But, when least expected, within that apparently invariable rhythm, would be heard a sharp and shrill whistle, like the bugle blast of an on-coming tempest. And, in fact, the whistle would find an answer in a deep and ominous rumble, and then another still louder, and then another; ... then the whistling would be repeated in a more terrific fashion, and that would be drowned in a confused murmur of discordant notes fit to inspire the soul with terror. And this conflict of sounds would go on