himself
to the utmost of his ability; his name, his figure, his money, and his
notoriety as a fighter, which was in curious contrast to his smooth and
peaceable character, gave him entrance into the most select society; he
immediately became intimate with the most fashionable young ladies, and
the houses where he called were the most aristocratic in the court
circles.

When he was at his aunt's, instead of making parade of this, he never
said where he was going nor where he had been, nor did he ever mention
any episode that would betray it. On the contrary, he took particular
pains to avoid speaking of high society, in which they did not move, so
as to spare them the petty mortification which for some women is apt to
be really painful.

He was the same extremely respectful gentleman toward his aunt, affable
and gallant toward his cousin, although in all that he did he managed to
show a peculiar haughty coolness, which is the quality best adapted for
assuring success with the ladies.

One evening Julia, on entering the theatre, saw her cousin in the box
of a duchess famous at that time for her beauty, her discretion, as well
as her conquests.

The position which the two occupied, in the rear of the box, and bending
toward each other until their cheeks almost touched, the insinuating
smile on his face, and the flattered vanity which was expressed in hers,
all made on the young girl such an impression that, for the moment, she
was afraid of falling, and it was by mere force of will that she managed
to reach their seats. When she had recovered from that painful surprise,
she said to herself: "But what folly! Why should I feel such an
impression if I have absolutely nothing in common with him? And even if
he were my fiance, what would there be peculiar in his talking with that
lady?"

At that moment Saavedra gracefully waved them a salute with his hand.
Julia replied with a forced smile.

The duchess turned around to see whom her friend was saluting, and
levelled her opera-glass in a most impertinent fashion. Julia, being
conscious of the stare, became so serious that it was pitiful to see
her. And from the corner of her eye she noticed that the duchess, laying
down her glass, bent toward her cousin and said a few words, to which he
replied, looking toward her again. Then the lady said something more
with a half-jesting smile, which caused Saavedra to reply with a cold
smile and a gesture of displeasure.

"That wom