f had opened between mother and son. As
a child, Rafael had known his mother to frown and sulk after some
mischievous prank of his. But now, her aggressive, menacing,
uncommunicative glumness was prolonged for days and days.

On returning home at night he would find himself subjected to a
searching cross-examination that would last all during supper. Don
Andres would usually be present, though he did not dare raise his head
when that masterful woman spoke. Where had he been? Whom had he seen?...
Rafael felt himself surrounded by a system of espionage that followed
him wherever he went in the city or in the country.

"No sir, today you were at the chorus-girl's house again!... Take care,
Rafael! Mark my word! You're killing me, you're killing me ...!"

And then those absurd clandestine trips to the Blue House began, the
leading man of the district, the advocate of Alcira's fortunes, creeping
on his stomach, skulking from bush to bush, in order not to be seen by
telltale observers!

Don Andres did his best to console the irate woman. It was just a
passing whim of Rafael's! Boys will be boys! You've got to let them have
a good time now and then! What do you expect with a handsome fellow like
that and from the best family in the region! And the cynical old man,
accustomed to easy conquests in the suburbs, blinked maliciously, taking
it for granted that Rafael had won a complete triumph down at the Blue
House. How else explain the youth's assiduity in his visits there, and
his timid though tenacious rebelliousness against his mother's
authority?

"Such affairs, oh you enjoy them--what's the use! But in the end they
weary a fellow, dona Bernarda," the old man said sententiously. "She'll
be clearing out some fine day. Besides, just let Rafael go to Madrid as
deputy, and see the society there! When he comes back he'll have
forgotten this woman ever existed!"

The faithful lieutenant of the Brulls would have been astonished to know
how little Rafael was progressing with his suit.

Leonora was not the woman that she had shown herself on the night of the
flood. With the fascination of danger gone, the novelty of the
adventure, and the extraordinary circumstances of their second
interview, she treated Rafael with a kindly indifference like any other
of the adorers who had flocked about her in her day. She had come to
look upon him as a new piece of furniture that she found in place in
front of her every afternoon; an automa