We find Don Jose in a bedroom darkened
by the necessary closing of the shutters, there being no other way of
excluding the air. The bedsteads are of gilded iron, with luxurious
bedding and spotless mosquito-nettings. His head is tied up with a silk
handkerchief. He rises from his rocking-chair, receives us with great
urbanity, and expresses his appreciation of the American nation and
their country, which he himself has visited. After a short interview we
leave him, but not until he has placed his house and all it contains
_"a la disposicion de Usted."_ We are then shown the pretty bedroom of
the young ladies, whose toilettes are furnished in silver, the bath
lined with tiling, the study, and the dining-room, where luncheon
awaits us. We take leave, with a kind invitation to return and dine the
next day, which, upon mature deliberation, we accept.
The _volante_ comes for us next day, with Roque, brightest of all
living _caleseros_, fixed in his boots and saddle. After a pleasant
drive we attain the house, and are received by its hospitable inmates
as before. The interval before dinner, a tolerably long one, is filled
up by pleasant chitchat, chiefly in English. The lady of the house does
not, however, profess our vernacular, and to her understanding we lay
siege in French, Italian, and laughter-provoking Spanish.
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