PAQUITA. I should not make light of it, if I were you. You know what Somolino"s wife is, to say nothing of Sanchez the confectioner.
CAROLINA. I didn"t know about the confectioner.
EUDOSIA. No respectable woman, no woman who even pretends to be respectable, would set foot in his shop since he married that French girl.
CAROLINA. I didn"t know about the French girl.
EUDOSIA. Yes, he married her--I say married her to avoid using another term. He married her in Bayonne--if you call such a thing marriage--civilly, which is the way French people marry. It is a land of perdition.
CAROLINA. I am very sorry to hear it because I am awfully fond of sweetmeats. I adore _bonbons_ and _marrons glaces_, and n.o.body here has as good ones as Sanchez, nor anywhere else for that matter.
PAQUITA. In that case you had as well deny yourself, unless you are prepared to invite criticism. Somolino"s wife is the only woman who enters the shop and faces the French girl, who gave her a receipt for dyeing her hair on the spot. You must have noticed how she is doing it now.
CAROLINA. I hadn"t noticed.
EUDOSIA. It is not jet-black any more; it is baby-pink--so she is having the Frenchwoman manicure her nails twice a week. Have you noticed the condition of her nails? They are the talk of the town.
[_A pause._]
PAQUITA. Well, I trust he is satisfied.
CAROLINA. Who is he?
PAQUITA. I do not call him your husband. Oh, our poor, dear brother!
CAROLINA. I have not the slightest idea what you are talking about.
EUDOSIA. So he has had his way at last and desecrated the statue of our poor brother with the figures of those naked women?
PAQUITA. As large as life.
CAROLINA. But Florencio is not responsible. It was the sculptor and the committee. I cannot see anything objectionable in them myself. There are such figures on all monuments. They are allegorical.
EUDOSIA. I could understand, perhaps, why the statue of Truth should be unclothed. Something of the sort was always expected of Truth. But I must say that Commerce and Industry might have had a tunic at least.
Commerce, in my opinion, is particularly indecent.
PAQUITA. We have declined the seats which were reserved for us. They were directly in front and you could see everything.
EUDOSIA. I suppose you still intend to be present? What a pity that there is n.o.body to give you proper advice!
CAROLINA. As I have been invited, I judge that I shall be welcome as I am.
PAQUITA. Possibly--if it were good form for you to appear at all. But when you exhibit yourself with that man--who was his best friend--after only three short years!
CAROLINA. Three long years.
EUDOSIA. No doubt they seemed long to you. Three years, did I say? They were like days to us who still keep his memory green!
PAQUITA. Who still bear his name, because no other name sounds so n.o.ble in our ears.
EUDOSIA. Rather than change it, we have declined very flattering proposals.
CAROLINA. I am afraid that you have made a mistake. You remember that your brother was very anxious to see you married.
PAQUITA. He imagined that all men were like him, and deserved wives like us, our poor, dear brother! Who would ever have dreamed he could have been forgotten so soon? Fancy his emotions as he looks down on you from the skies.
CAROLINA. I do not believe for one moment that he has any regrets. If he had, then what would be the use of being in paradise? Don"t you worry about me. The best thing that a young widow can do is marry at once. I was a very young widow.
EUDOSIA. You were twenty-nine.
CAROLINA. Twenty-six.
EUDOSIA. We concede you twenty-six. At all events, you were not a child--not to speak of the fact that no widow can be said to be a child.
CAROLINA. No more than a single woman can be said to be old. However, I fail to see that there would be any impropriety in my being present at the unveiling of the statue.
EUDOSIA. Do you realize that the premature death of your husband will be the subject of all the speakers? They will dwell on the bereavement which we have suffered through the loss of such an eminent man. How do you propose to take it? When people see you standing there, complacent and satisfied, alongside of that man, do you suppose they will ever believe that you are not reconciled?
PAQUITA. What will your husband do while they are extolling the genius of our brother, and he knows that he never had any?
CAROLINA. That was not your brother"s opinion. He thought very highly of Florencio.
EUDOSIA. Very highly. Our poor, dear brother! Among his other abilities he certainly had an extraordinary apt.i.tude for allowing himself to be deceived.
CAROLINA. That a.s.sumption is offensive to me; it is unfair to all of us.
EUDOSIA. I hope you brought it with you, Paquita?
PAQUITA. Yes; here it is.
[_Taking out a book._]
EUDOSIA. Just look through this book if you have a moment. It arrived to-day from Madrid and is on sale at Valdivieso"s. Just glance through it.
CAROLINA. What is the book? [_Reading the t.i.tle upon the cover._] "Don Patricio Molinete, the Man and His Work. A Biography. Together with His Correspondence and an Estimate of His Life." Why, thanks--
PAQUITA. No, do not thank us. Read, read what our poor brother has written to the author of this book, who was one of his intimate friends.
CAROLINA. Recaredo Casalonga. Ah! I remember--a rascal we were obliged to turn out of the house. Do you mean to say that scamp Casalonga has any letters? Merely to hear the name makes me nervous.
EUDOSIA. But go on! Page two hundred and fourteen. Is that the page, Paquita?
PAQUITA. It begins on page two hundred and fourteen, but before it amounts to anything turn the page.
CAROLINA. Quick, quick! Let me see. What does he say? What are these letters? What is this? He says that I.... But there is not a word of truth in it. My husband could never have written this.
EUDOSIA. But there it is in cold type. You don"t suppose they would dare to print--