party adherents were received as cordially as before and the same favors
were done, nor was there any decline of influence in places that don
Andrés referred to as "the spheres of public administration."

There came an election for Parliament, and as usual, doña Bernarda
secured the triumph of the individual whose nomination had been dictated
from Madrid. Don Ramón had left the party machine in perfect condition;
all it needed was enough "grease" to keep it running smoothly; and there
his widow was besides, ever alert at the slightest suggestion of a creak
in the gearing.

At provincial headquarters they spoke of the District with the usual
confidence:

"It's ours. Brull's son is as powerful as the old man himself."

The truth was that Rafael took little interest in "the Party." He looked
upon it as one of the family properties, the title to which no one could
dispute. He confined his personal activities to obeying his mother. "Go
to Riola with don Andrés. Our friends there will be happy to see you."
And he would go on the trip, to suffer the torment of an interminable
rally, a _paella_, during which his fellow partisans would bore him with
their uncouth merriment and ill-mannered flattery. "You really ought to
give your horse a couple of days' rest. Instead of going out for a ride,
spend your afternoon at the Club! Our fellows are complaining they never
get a sight of you." Whereupon Rafael would give up his rides--his sole
pleasure practically--and plunge into a thick smoke-laden atmosphere of
noise and shouting, where he would have to answer questions of the most
illustrious members of the party. They would sit around, filling their
coffee-saucers with cigar-ash, disputing as to which was the better