It's for Pilar's.
I know, we all know, that you are the cleverest woman in the city.
It seemed to me, it seemed to the Archbishop, that if there was a way out, your quick wit would find it.'
The countess knew she was being grossly flattered.
She did not mind.
She liked it.
'You must let me think.'
'Of course, if he'd been a gentleman I could have sent for my son and he would have killed him, but the Duke of Dos Palos cannot fight a duel with the Countess de Marbella's coachman.'
'Perhaps not.'
'In the old days it would have been so simple.
I should merely have hired a couple of ruffians and had the brute's throat cut one night in the street.
But with all these laws they have nowadays decent people have no way of protecting themselves from insult.'
'I should deplore any method of settling the difficulty that deprived me of the services of an excellent coachman,' murmured the countess.
'But if he married my daughter he cannot continue to be your coachman,' cried the duchess indignantly.
'Are you going to give Pilar an income for them to live on?'
'Me?
Not a peseta.
I told Pilar at once that she should get nothing from me.
They can starve for all I care.'
'Well, I should think rather than do that he will prefer to stay on as my coachman.
There are very nice rooms over my stables.'
The duchess went pale.
The duchess went red.
'Forget all that has passed between us.
Let us be friends.
You can't expose me to such a humiliation.
If I've ever done things to affront you I ask you on my knees to forgive me.'
The duchess cried.
'Dry your eyes, Duchess,' the Frenchwoman said at last. 'I will do what I can.'
'Is there anything you can do?'
'Perhaps.
Is it true that Pilar has and will have no money of her own?'
'Not a penny if she marries without my consent.'
The countess gave her one of her brightest smiles.
'There is a common impression that southern people are romantic and northern people matter-of-fact.
The reverse is true.
It is the northerners who are incurably romantic.
I have lived long enough among you Spaniards to know that you are nothing if not practical.'
The duchess was too broken to resent openly these unpleasant remarks, but, oh, how she hated the woman!
The Countess de Marbella rose to her feet.
'You shall hear from me in the course of the day.'
She firmly dismissed her visitor.
The carriage was ordered for five o'clock and at ten minutes to, the countess, dressed for her drive, sent for Jose.
When he came into the drawing-room, wearing his pale grey livery with such an air, she could not deny that he was very good to look upon.
If he had not been her own coachman-well, it was not the moment for ideas of that sort.
He stood before her, holding himself easily, but with a gallant swagger.
There was nothing servile in his bearing.
'A Greek god,' the countess murmured to herself. 'It is only Andalusia that can produce such types.'
And then aloud: 'I hear that you are going to marry the daughter of the Duchess of Dos Palos.'
'If the countess does not object.'