fully. He was quick about it, though his hands
trembled a little. As the solemn moment approached, he could not
entirely conquer his nervous and impressionable nature.

When he went down into the parlor, quite an assembly was already
gathered; not only those who had been there the evening before, but
others besides. All were dressed in their most brilliant attire. Dona
Rosalia, who was to be the _madrina_, wore a dress of black merino, and
was adorned with a few jewels of small value. Don Valentin, the
_padrino_, had pulled out from the bottom of the trunk the dress-coat in
which he had been painted when he became a ship's mate; it was a coat of
ample circumference, with a narrow collar and very short sleeves: the
ex-captain of the _Rapido_ wore it with the same grace and dexterity as
he did his best shirt. In the starched and crimped bosom shone two large
amethysts which he had bought in 1842 in Manilla; over his vest and
around his neck hung his watch-chain; the watch was gold and had a seal
adorned with opals. But it was in his feet that Don Valentin took the
greatest pride: his wife had always boasted (because _he_ was wholly
incapable of boasting about anything) that there were no others in the
village so short and well-turned; wherefore, the old sailor, in honor of
this solemn occasion, felt called upon to give such a shine to his boots
that they equalled "the moons of Venice"; but solely for the purpose of
affording the companion of his life a new and pure delight.

The company missed several damsels, but the report went round that they
were engaged in helping dress the bride. It was not long before she made
her appearance, in a modest but elegant dark blue woollen dress trimmed
with black velvet; she also wore the bridegroom's costly jewels, and a
bunch of orange flowers in her bosom.

When she entered the parlor, all the women kissed her, with the
exception of her aunt, who, at the sight of the dress she wore, felt the
terrible wound that she had received the evening before, open again.
Maximina glanced at her timidly three or four times, and went of her own
accord to kiss her. But she did not once look in the direction of
Miguel, who, on the other hand, devoured her with his eyes, thoroughly
understanding the feeling of bashfulness that possessed her in spite of
her feigned calmness.

The artistic young girls who had adorned her were far from satisfied
with their work. They evidently felt tortured by those