house of her parents, and
told them that he wished to speak with them on a very private and
serious matter. The father, who was a humble government employe,
imagining, as any one might have supposed, that he was going to ask his
daughter's hand, received him trembling with emotion; then after many
periphrases and circumlocutions, Saavedra ended by asking him to give
him a favorable report on a certain matter that he had in his
department.

This hateful piece of drollery was noised over the whole town, and put
that poor innocent senor in a most ridiculous light.

But Julita, as she saw and listened to him, forgot these and other
escapades; unquestionably this young man, who in her presence was so
refined and modest, was an entirely different person.

Saavedra after showing such gallantry to his cousin, waited a long time
before he addressed her, or even looked at her; he seemed to be absorbed
in his conversation with her mother. Thus it was that she had an
abundance of time to make a careful scrutiny of his appearance: his
shirt-collar, his cravat, his watch-chain, his boots, all were elegant,
and proved by their style that they came from the other side of the
Pyrenees.

"You will feel like getting the dust off and having a wash, Alfonso,"
said _la brigadiera_. "Come; we will show you to your room: it is the
one which my son Miguel used to occupy."

Don Alfonso could not praise it sufficiently: he found everything to his
taste.

"I shall be just like a fish in the water here. You will have trouble in
getting rid of me, I assure you!"

"I will warn you," said Julia, "that it was I who made the bed myself.
Don't you dare say that you have not slept well."

As soon as she had said these words, which by their mischievous spirit
were perfectly proper, she repented having said them, and blushed. Don
Alfonso turned his face upon her, and looked at her with some friendly
curiosity.

"That is the very reason that I shall not sleep well. You were unkind to
tell me."

Julita blushed more than ever, and to hide her confusion began to
straighten the bottles on the dressing-table, and then she left the
room. Finally her mother also went, leaving him to himself, and shortly
afterward he again appeared in the parlor, in another costume of the
latest and most elegant style.

"Julita," said her mother, "tell them to put on the breakfast; you must
feel weary, Alfonso."

"No, aunt; I feel hungry, though. The word is more p