e nature which God gave me, I sent her a letter to-day, telling
her that if she persisted in her conduct, she would do me the favor
never to write to me again, ... and I am afraid that she is really
offended."

"I am afraid," said Miguel, laughing, "that your command will be
fulfilled to the letter."

The cadet remained for several moments pensive and gloomy. Then shaking
himself from his melancholy stupor, and passing his hand over his
forehead, he said:--

"By the way, Don Miguel, you have not washed your hands."

Rivera looked at him in surprise.

"One always gets dirty in the factory," continued the cadet. "Here is a
bowl and soap for you."

"Thank you; my hands are not dirty."

But Utrilla at the same time offered him a china bowl filled with clear
water, and the soap-dish, in such a way that Miguel rather than appear
the enemy of cleanliness yielded and washed his hands. The soap was
strongly scented with orange.

"Do you know this soap is very fine and pleasant?" said Rivera, so as to
say something.

"Do you like it?... Then I am going to give you a cake of it."

"My friend, I beg of you!"

Utrilla, without heeding his protests, got the soap out of the desk,
wrapped it up in a piece of paper, and almost by main force thrust it
into his pocket. From that time forth Miguel took care not to commend
anything which he happened to touch.

As he was going, the ex-cadet shook his hand ardently, and said in a
voice full of emotion:--

"Don't fail to speak to her. If you knew how sad and desperate I am."

The truth of the matter was that he had good reason to be, as will
appear in the next chapter.

VI.

"If your son were to put up at a hotel while I have a house in Madrid, I
should be seriously vexed with him, and with you too," _la brigadiera_
Angela had written to her cousin Maria Antonia.

And her cousin replied:--

"I have sent a copy of your letter to Alfonso, and assured him that he
would enjoy much staying with you. Although he always rebels against my
advice, I hope that this time he will gratify me. But I am afraid, my
dear, that his visit may cause you a good deal of trouble, for I don't
know what kind of habits he has contracted in Paris; but you have asked
for it, and you can try it."

_La brigadiera_ caused the rooms that Miguel had occupied to be put in
order with so much care and nicety, worried her daughter Julia so
desperately in the details of the appointments, the curta