nd she took pains by her
extraordinary manner of brushing her hair to make the strange
originality of her face more brilliant.

During the interruption the poet fortified himself with a glass of
currant juice.

Then the reading began anew. At the end of the act, there were signs of
approbation, especially among the young ladies, to whom, though they had
not understood a word, it had sounded very fine. A few gentlemen
remained in the parlor while the dramatist was resting: he and one or
two others had gone into the corridor to smoke.

"What does _Rosa de te_ think about it?" asked one of the gentlemen,
addressing the young critic.

_Rosa de te_ reddened, and spoke a few incoherent words.

"Leave him, leave him alone with his grief!" said Miguel, who happened
to be in this group. "When the heroes of comedies and novels do not
adopt resolutions, it makes him desperate."

The drama was finished at eleven o'clock, to the great and ill-concealed
satisfaction of each and all of the company.

During the last act the girls yawned in an angelic manner; the gentlemen
exchanged expressive winks under the poet's very nose. Then came
encouraging and prolonged applause! All broke out into eulogies, and
predicted great things for the piece.

Gomez, overwhelmed, flushed, and trembling from head to foot,
acknowledged the compliments by laying his hand on his heart, really
believing that his work was already saved from the "claws of the
public."

The poor fellow had no idea that many of those who were applauding him
had all ready a howl for the "first night" of his play, in vengeance for
the forced applause that they had given him.

After this the ladies went to the library, where supper was served. The
gentlemen took their places in the rear, and there began that buzzing of
flat and conventional phrases between both sexes, which constitutes what
has been called the "witchery of the salon."

At that moment, after Gomez de la Floresta's drama, nothing that was
said could fail to seem clever or to excite the mirth of the guests;
something, and it is not extravagant to say much, was contributed to
this desirable state of things by the sight of the well-laden and
decorated table, which in its final state was the work of Uncle Manolo.

Saavedra had been sitting the whole evening behind Julia, whispering
clever things in her ear, while Utrilla, seated not far from them, and
suffering as though they were roasting him on a gridiron