I was walking up and down in a narrow path amongst the
weeds, thinking of my approaching meeting with Paquita, when old Santos
came out to me and mysteriously informed me that Dona Demetria wished
to see me. He led me through the large room where we always had our
meals, then through a narrow, dimly lighted passage into another room
I had not entered before. Though the rest of the house was now in
darkness, the old colonel having already retired to bed, it was very
light here, there being about half a dozen candles placed about the
room. In the centre of the floor, with her old face beaming with
delighted admiration, stood Ramona, gazing on another person seated
on the sofa. And on this individual I also gazed silently for some
time; for, though I recognised Demetria in her, she was so changed
that astonishment prevented me from speaking. The rusty grub had come
forth as a splendid green and gold butterfly. She had on a grass-green
silk dress, made in a fashion I had never seen before; extremely high
in the waist, puffed out on the shoulders, and with enormous bell-shaped
sleeves reaching to the elbows, the whole garment being plentifully
trimmed with very fine cream-coloured lace. Her long, thick hair, which
had hitherto always been worn in heavy plaits on her back, was now
piled up in great coils on her head and surmounted by a tortoiseshell
comb a foot high at least, and about fifteen inches broad at the top,
looking like an immense crest on her head.
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