d been asked to go quite early, as we
were the strangers of the evening. Between seventy and eighty guests
dropped in, the ladies chiefly in morning dress, as we understand the
word. A Spanish lady never rises to receive a gentleman; but when any
ladies entered the large drawing-room where we were all seated, every
one rose and stood while the new arrivals made the circuit of the room,
shaking hands with their friends or kissing them on both cheeks, and
giving a somewhat undignified little nod to those whom they did not
know. The first time every one rose I thought we were going to sing a
hymn, or take part in some ceremony; but as it had to be repeated each
time a lady entered the room, I began to wish they would all come at
once. As soon as the dancing began, however, this ceremony was
discontinued. When you are introduced to a partner, the first thing he
does is to inquire your Christian name; from that time forth he
addresses you by it, as if he had known you from infancy, and in
speaking to him you are expected to use his surname alone. If there be
more than one brother, you address the younger one as "Arturo," "Ramon,"
or whatever his Christian name may be. The diminutives are, however,
almost always used--Pacquita, Juanito, etc., in place of Francisca or
Juan. Even the middle-aged and old ladies are always spoken to by their
Christian names, and it is quite common to hear a child of six
addressing a lady who is probably a grandmother as "Luisa" or
"Mariquita."

Between the dances the pauses were unusually long, but they were never
spent by the ladies sitting in rows round the walls, while the men
blocked up the doorways and looked bored. There were no "flirting
corners," and sitting out on the stairs _a deux_ would have been a
_compromiso_. The whole company broke up into little knots and circles,
the chairs, which had been pushed into corners or an ante-room, were
fetched out, and the men, without any sort of shyness, generally seated
themselves in front of the ladies, and kept up a perfectly wild hubbub
of conversation until the music for the next dance struck up. Dowagers
and _duenas_ were few; they sat in the same spot all the evening, and
asked each other what rent they paid, how many _chimeneas_ (fireplaces)
they had, whether they burned wood or coal, and lamented over the price
of both. They reminded one irresistibly of the "two crumbly old women"
in _Kavanagh_ "who talked about moths, and cheap furniture,