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Every year he would write home to his sister to sell another piece of land. It is known that over there they lived in real poverty. In a few years the little fortune the Doctor got from his parents was gone. Poor doña Pepa, kind old soul, even disposed of the house which belonged half to the Doctor and half to her sent him every cent of the money, and moved to the orchard.
We learned one day, through his sister, doña Pepa, that he had gone way off with the little girl somewhere what was that city you visited, Rafael? Milan, yes, Milan, that's it! I've been told that's the market for singers. He wanted his Leonora to become a prima donna. He never came back, poor fellow!... Things must have gone badly with them.
Her aunt, the devout, ingenuous doña Pepa, had died some time since leaving her property for the salvation of her soul.
Don't you know doña Pepa, 'the doctor's woman, they call her a little lady who has an orchard close by the river and lives in the Blue House, that's always under water when the Júcar floods? She once owned the place you have just beyond where you live, and she's the one who sold it to your father the only property don Ramón ever bought, so far as I know. Don't you remember?"
And the thought a comforting, soothing thought, it had been of the distant land of her childhood came back to her, the thought of her simple, pious aunt, the sole survivor of her family, who wrote to her twice every year, urging her to reconcile her soul with God to which end the good old Doña Pepa was herself aiding with prayer!
On that warm March day, doña Pepa was sitting in one of them, her silver-rimmed spectacles on her nose, reading the "Life" of the day's saint. At her side was the maid. A true daughter of the campagna of Rome, Beppa had been trained to piety from her earliest years; and she was listening attentively so as not to miss a word. On the other bench were Leonora and Rafael.
Afterwards, long afterwards, would appear a white and radiant countenance, a face like a full moon, and while her smile like a night star was greeting the little Ulysses, the dorsal complement of her body kept on coming in forty carnal years, fresh, exuberant, tremendous. The notary and his wife always spoke of Doña Pepa as of a familiar person, but the child never had seen her in their home.
I was seated between two little girls of from ten to twelve years old, both as dusky as two young moles. They were twins from Jamaica, and their names were Dolores and Pepa Cardanos. They had only been in the convent two months, and appeared to be as timid as I was. The dinner was composed of soup made of everything, and of veal with haricot beans.
It had been one of her caprices a desire repeated during his visits to the Blue House on some afternoons, in the presence of doña Pepa and the maid, and on every night, as he passed through the opening in the hedge where Leonora's bare arms were waiting for him in the darkness. For more than a week Rafael had been living in a sweet dream. Never had he imagined that life could be so beautiful.
To these utterances the young man responded by praises of his aunt, but he had no longer any inclination to take money from his pocket and say, "Maria Juana, take this for a pair of boots." "Pepa, take this to buy a dress for yourself." "Florentina, take this to provide yourself with a week's provisions," as he had been on the point of doing.
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