A season of love

Spring

It was Shrove Tuesday. Nebel had just entered the corso, already at

dark, and as she unpacked a bundle of streamers, she looked at the

carriage ahead. Missed from a face she hadn't seen the afternoon

Previously, he asked his companions:

-Who is it? She doesn't look ugly.

-A demon! She is gorgeous. She think she is the niece, or something like that, of the doctor

Arrizabalaga. She arrived yesterday, it seems to me ...

Nébel then fixed her eyes intently on the beautiful creature. She was a

still a very young girl, perhaps no more than fourteen, but completely

nubile. She had, under her very dark hair, a face of supreme whiteness,

of that matt white and satin that is the exclusive patrimony of very

fine. Long blue eyes, losing towards the temples in the circle of his

black lashes of hers. Maybe a little apart, what gives, under a forehead

smooth, air of great nobility or great stubbornness. But her eyes, like this,

they filled that blooming countenance with the light of her beauty. And feeling them

Nebel stopped a moment in his, he was dazzled.

“What a charm!” He murmured, standing still with one knee over the man.

Surrey cushion. A moment later the streamers were flying

towards victory. Both carriages were already linked by the bridge

hanging of ribbons, and the one who caused it smiled from time to time at the

gallant boy.

But that already came to the lack of respect for people, coachman and even

carriage: over the shoulder, head, whip, fender, streamers

they rained incessantly. So much so that the two people sitting in the back

They returned and, rather than smiling, examined the spender carefully.

“Who are they?” Asked Nebel in a low voice.

—Dr. Arrizabalaga; true that you do not know. The other is the mother of

your girl ... She's the doctor's sister-in-law.

As if in pursuit of the exam, Arrizabalaga and the lady smiled at each other

frankly before that exuberance of youth, Nébel believed in the

duty to greet them, to which the triplet responded with jovial condescension.

This was the beginning of an idyll that lasted three months, and to which Nébel contributed

how much adoration there was in her passionate adolescence. While

She continued the privateering, and in Concordia it lasts until incredible hours,

Nebel incessantly stretched his arm forward, so well that the

The cuff of his shirt, detached, danced over his hand.

The next day the scene was replayed; and how this time the corso was

resumed at night with a battle of flowers, Nébel exhausted in a quarter of

hour four huge baskets. Arrizabalaga and the lady laughed,

turning often, and the young woman hardly took her eyes off Nebel. East

he cast a desperate look at his empty baskets; more about him

Surrey cushion there was still one left, a poor bouquet of evergreens

and jasmine of the country. Nebel jumped with him over the surrey wheel,

he nearly dislocated an ankle, and running to victory, panting, drenched in

sweat and excitement on the surface, he handed the bouquet to the young woman. She searched

recklessly another, but she didn't have it. Her companions laugh.

"But crazy!" Her mother told him, pointing to her chest, "there you have one!"

The carriage started at a trot. Nebel, who had come down from the stirrup,

afflicted, he ran and reached for the bouquet the young woman held out to him, her body almost

out of the car.

Nébel had arrived three days ago from Buenos Aires, where he was finishing his

baccalaureate. He had been there for seven years, so his

Knowledge of the current society of Concordia was minimal. He should

stay still fifteen days in his hometown, enjoyed peacefully

of soul, if not of body; and lo and behold, from the second day he lost all

the serenity of him.