Remember the Alamo [110]
of
twenty and thirty, ten years do not seem very destructive to
life. The woman at eighteen, and twenty-eight, if changed, is
usually ripened and improved; the man at thirty, finer and
more mature than he was at twenty. But when this same period
is placed to women and men who are either approaching fifty,
or have passed it, the change is distinctly felt.
It was even confessed by the Senora one exquisite morning in
the beginning of March, though the sun was shining warmly, and
the flowers blooming, and the birds singing, and all nature
rejoicing, as though it was the first season of creation.
"I am far from being as gay and strong as I wish to be,
Roberto," she, said; "and today, consider what a company there
is coming! And if General Houston is to be added to it, I
shall be as weary as I shall be happy."
"He is the simplest of men; a cup of coffee, a bit of steak--"
"SAN BLAS! That is how you talk! But is, it possible to
receive him like a common mortal? He is a hero, and, besides
that, among hidalgos de casa Solar" (gentlemen of known
property)--
"Well, then, you have servants, Maria, my dear one."
"Servants! Bah! Of what use are they, Roberto, since they
also have got hold of American ideas?"
"Isabel and Antonia will be here."
"Let me only enumerate to you, Roberto. Thomas and his wife
and four children arrived last night. You may at this moment
hear the little Maria crying. I dare say Pepita is washing
the child, and using soap which is very disagreeable. I have
always admired the wife of Thomas, but I think she is too fond
of her own way with the children. I give her advices which
she does not take."
"They are her own children, dearest."
"Holy Maria! They are also my own grandchildren."
"Well, well, we must remember that Abbie is a little Puritan.
She believes in bringing up children strictly, and it is good;
for Thomas would spoil them. As for Isabel's boys--"
"God be blessed! Isabel's boys are entirely charming. They
have been corrected at my own knee. There are not more
beautifully behaved boys in the christened world."
"And Antonia's little Christina?"
"She is already an angel. Ah, Roberto! If I had only died
when I was as innocent as that dear one!"
"I am thankful you did not die, Maria. How dark my life would
have been without you!"
"Beloved, then I am glad I am not in the kingdom of heaven;
though, if one dies like Christina, one escapes purgatory.
Roberto, when I rise I am very stiff: I think, indeed, I have
some rheumatism."
"That is not unlikely; and also Maria, you have now some
years."
"Let that be confessed; but the good God knows that I lost all
my youth in that awful flight of 'thirty-six."
"Maria, we all left or lost something on that dark journey.
To-day, we shall recover its full value."
"To be sure--that is what is said--we shall see. Will you now
send Dolores to me? I must arrange my toilet with some haste;
and tell me, Roberto, what dress is your preference; it
is your eyes, beloved, I wish to please."
Robert Worth was not too old to feel charmed and touched by
the compliment. And he was not a thoughtless or churlish
husband; he knew how to repay such a wifely compliment, and it
was a pleasant sight to see the aged companions standing hand
in hand before the handsome suits which Dolores had spread out
for her mistress to examine.
He looked at the purple and the black and the white robes, and
then he looked at the face beside him. It was faded, and had
lost its oval shape; but its coloring was yet beautiful, and
the large, dark eyes tender and bright below the snow-white
hair. After a few minutes' consideration, he touched, gently,
a robe of white satin. "Put this on, Maria," he said, "and
your white mantilla, and your best jewels. The occasion will
excuse the utmost splendor."
The choice delighted her. She had really wished to wear it,
and some one's judgment to endorse her own inclinations was
all that was necessary to confirm her wish. Dolores
twenty and thirty, ten years do not seem very destructive to
life. The woman at eighteen, and twenty-eight, if changed, is
usually ripened and improved; the man at thirty, finer and
more mature than he was at twenty. But when this same period
is placed to women and men who are either approaching fifty,
or have passed it, the change is distinctly felt.
It was even confessed by the Senora one exquisite morning in
the beginning of March, though the sun was shining warmly, and
the flowers blooming, and the birds singing, and all nature
rejoicing, as though it was the first season of creation.
"I am far from being as gay and strong as I wish to be,
Roberto," she, said; "and today, consider what a company there
is coming! And if General Houston is to be added to it, I
shall be as weary as I shall be happy."
"He is the simplest of men; a cup of coffee, a bit of steak--"
"SAN BLAS! That is how you talk! But is, it possible to
receive him like a common mortal? He is a hero, and, besides
that, among hidalgos de casa Solar" (gentlemen of known
property)--
"Well, then, you have servants, Maria, my dear one."
"Servants! Bah! Of what use are they, Roberto, since they
also have got hold of American ideas?"
"Isabel and Antonia will be here."
"Let me only enumerate to you, Roberto. Thomas and his wife
and four children arrived last night. You may at this moment
hear the little Maria crying. I dare say Pepita is washing
the child, and using soap which is very disagreeable. I have
always admired the wife of Thomas, but I think she is too fond
of her own way with the children. I give her advices which
she does not take."
"They are her own children, dearest."
"Holy Maria! They are also my own grandchildren."
"Well, well, we must remember that Abbie is a little Puritan.
She believes in bringing up children strictly, and it is good;
for Thomas would spoil them. As for Isabel's boys--"
"God be blessed! Isabel's boys are entirely charming. They
have been corrected at my own knee. There are not more
beautifully behaved boys in the christened world."
"And Antonia's little Christina?"
"She is already an angel. Ah, Roberto! If I had only died
when I was as innocent as that dear one!"
"I am thankful you did not die, Maria. How dark my life would
have been without you!"
"Beloved, then I am glad I am not in the kingdom of heaven;
though, if one dies like Christina, one escapes purgatory.
Roberto, when I rise I am very stiff: I think, indeed, I have
some rheumatism."
"That is not unlikely; and also Maria, you have now some
years."
"Let that be confessed; but the good God knows that I lost all
my youth in that awful flight of 'thirty-six."
"Maria, we all left or lost something on that dark journey.
To-day, we shall recover its full value."
"To be sure--that is what is said--we shall see. Will you now
send Dolores to me? I must arrange my toilet with some haste;
and tell me, Roberto, what dress is your preference; it
is your eyes, beloved, I wish to please."
Robert Worth was not too old to feel charmed and touched by
the compliment. And he was not a thoughtless or churlish
husband; he knew how to repay such a wifely compliment, and it
was a pleasant sight to see the aged companions standing hand
in hand before the handsome suits which Dolores had spread out
for her mistress to examine.
He looked at the purple and the black and the white robes, and
then he looked at the face beside him. It was faded, and had
lost its oval shape; but its coloring was yet beautiful, and
the large, dark eyes tender and bright below the snow-white
hair. After a few minutes' consideration, he touched, gently,
a robe of white satin. "Put this on, Maria," he said, "and
your white mantilla, and your best jewels. The occasion will
excuse the utmost splendor."
The choice delighted her. She had really wished to wear it,
and some one's judgment to endorse her own inclinations was
all that was necessary to confirm her wish. Dolores