Dragon's Teeth by Eça de Queirós

ON the following morning Luiza received a bouquet of magnificent red roses from Sebastião, which she placed in the vases in the parlor.

At three o'clock Bazilio came. Luiza was seated at the piano.

"The gentleman who was here the other day is outside," Juliana came to announce in grave, almost reproachful accents.

"Ah, my cousin Bazilio," said Luiza, blushing. "Show him in. And, by the way, if Senhor Sebastião, or any other visitor, should call, admit him."

The gentleman, then, was a cousin. These visits had lost all their interest for Juliana. Her malicious curiosity, swelled out to its fullest proportions, suffered a momentary collapse, like a sail when the wind has fallen. He was her cousin!

She went slowly upstairs to the kitchen.

"I have news to tell you, Senhora Joanna," she said. "The _petit-maître_ is a cousin, -- Cousin Bazilio, it seems. Bazilio! It turns out that we have a cousin at last; how nice!"

"Why, who should the man be but a relative? " said Joanna, with indifference.

Juliana did not answer. She looked to see if the irons were hot, as she had a quantity of clothes to iron, and while waiting for them she sat down at the window. The sky was gray, and the atmosphere charged with moisture and electricity; from time to time a slight breeze agitated the foliage without. "He is her cousin! " she thought, "and he comes only when the husband has gone away. How likely that is! When he goes she remains preoccupied; she sighs; she looks disconsolate. All that is the result of family affection!"

Her eyes glittered with malignant joy. And the irons, were they hot? she asked Joanna.

The bell rang softly.

"There it goes again! This is a dog's life! To-day is a reception-day, it seems."

She went down and opened the door. When she saw Julião standing before her, a book under his arm, she gave a little cry of surprise.

"Come in, Senhor Julião," she said; "the mistress is with her cousin, but she has given orders to admit any one who may call."

Delighted at being able to interrupt the conversation, she opened the door of the parlor.

"Senhor Julião," she announced in a shrill voice.

Luiza presented the two gentlemen to each other. Bazilio hardly rose from the sofa, and with a glance expressive of something akin to terror examined Julião, from his disordered hair to his badly-polished boots.

"What a savage! " he said to himself.

Luiza, divining his thoughts, colored with shame. What idea would Bazilio form of the acquaintances, the friends of the house, by this badly-dressed man whose collar was soiled and whose coat was old and ill-fitting? She felt her _chic_ diminished by this visit, and instinctively, influenced by a sentiment of futile vanity, her countenance assumed a reserved, almost a serious air, as if Julião's visit were a surprise to her, and his attire an offence.

Julião vaguely comprehended that his presence was an annoyance, and with something of embarrassment said, settling his spectacles on his nose, --