s in their
trousers: Caesar dressed in black, with the ceremonious aspect
that suits a grave man; Alzugaray in a light suit with a coloured
handkerchief in his breast pocket.

"I think we are 'gentlemen' today," said Caesar.

"It seems so to me."

They entered the house and were ushered into the drawing-room. The
majority of the guests were already there; the proper introductions
and bows took place. Caesar stayed in the group of men, who remained
standing, and Alzugaray went over to enter the sphere of Don Calixto's
wife and the judge's wife.

The judge, from the first moment, treated Caesar like a man of
importance, and began to call him Don Caesar every moment, and to find
everything he said, good.

In the ladies' group there was an old priest, a tall, big, deaf man, a
great friend of the family, named Don Ramon.

The judge's wife told Alzugaray that this Don Ramon was a simpleton.

He was the pastor of a very rich hermitage nearby, the hermitage of la
Vega, and he had spent all the money he had got by an inheritance, in
fixing up the church.

The poor man was childlike and sweet. He said various times that he had
many cloaks for the Virgin in the sacristy of his church, and that he
wished they could be given to poor parishes, because two or three were
enough in his.

AMPARITO

While they were talking an automobile horn was heard, and a little later
Don Calixto's niece entered the drawing-room.

This was Amparito, the flat-faced girl with black eyes, of whom Caesar
had spoken to Alzugaray. Her father accompanied her.

The priest patted the girl's cheeks.

Her father was a clumsy man, red, sunburned, with the face of a
contractor or a miner.

The girl took off her cap and the veil she wore in the automobile, and
seated herself between Don Calixto's daughters. Alzugaray looked her
over. Amparito really was attractive; she had a short nose, bright black
eyes, red lips too thick, white teeth, and smooth cheeks. She wore her
hair down, in ringlets; but in spite of her infantile get-up, one saw
that she was already a woman.

"Caesar is right; this is quite a lively girl," murmured Alzugaray.

The mayor's son now arrived, and his sister. He was an insignificant
little gentleman, mild and courteous; he had studied law at Salamanca,
and it seemed that he had certain intentions about Don Calixto's second
daughter.

All the guests being assembled, the master of the house said that, since
nobody was m