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When Roberto realized the scheme, he grew indignant.

“See here, listen to me,” he said. “Do you imagine I’m going to work here for you while you go idling around? Not a bit of it, my dear fellow!”

“I’m no good for working with these nasty chemicals,” replied Bernardo, sullenly. “I’m an artist.”

“What you are is a good-for-nothing imbecile.”

“Excellent. All the better.”

“You’re utterly worthless. You married this girl just to get the little money she had. It’s disgusting.”

“I know well enough you’ll take my wife’s part.”

“I’m not taking her part. The poor thing was idiotic enough herself to have married the like of you.”

“Do you mean, then, that you don’t care to come here and do the work?”

“I certainly do not.”

“Well, it’s all the same to me. I’ve found a business partner. So you may as well know. I don’t beg anybody to come to my house.”

“All right. Good-bye.”

Roberto stopped coming. In a few days the partner presented himself and Bernardo discharged Manuel.

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The “Europea” and the “Benefactora”—A Strange Employment