The table was already laid with a few inviting titbits, and to Vilela’s eyes it seemed like a veritable cornucopia. Two pastries and a croquette were the palliatives Vilela sent to his rebellious stomach, and his viscera had to make do with that.

Meanwhile, Dona Mariquinhas was still performing miracles on the piano; Eduardo, now leaning at the window, appeared to be contemplating suicide, while his brother played with his watch chain and listened to Dona Margarida complaining about her feckless slaves. As for Rodrigo, he was pacing up and down, occasionally saying:

“Goodness, they’re taking their time!”

It was a quarter past six and still no carriages; some people were already growing impatient. At twenty past six, there was a faint rattle of wheels; Rodrigo ran to the window. It was a passing cab. At twenty-five past six, everyone thought they could hear carriages approaching.

“They’re here!” exclaimed a voice.

But it was nothing. What they heard seemed to be (and forgive me for marrying this noun to this adjective) a kind of aural mirage.

At six thirty-eight, the carriages arrived. There was great excitement in the parlor; the ladies ran to the windows. The men eyed each other like conspirators gathering their forces for some major undertaking. The wedding party entered. The houseboys, waiting in the hallway for the bride and groom, took their young mistress completely by surprise by showering her with rose petals. And, as there always are on such occasions, many kisses and words of congratulations were given.

José Lemos was beside himself with joy, but the news that Lieutenant Porfírio had still not arrived put something of a damper on his high spirits.

“We must send for him.”

“At this hour?” murmured Calisto Valadares.

“Without Porfírio the party won’t be complete,” José Lemos whispered to Dr. Valença.

“Papa,” said Rodrigo, “I don’t think he’s coming.”

“That’s impossible!”

“It’s nearly seven o’clock.”

“And supper is ready,” added Dona Beatriz.

Dona Beatriz’s words carried considerable weight with José Lemos, which is why he did not insist. They had no choice but to give up on the lieutenant.

However, the lieutenant was a man accustomed to awkward situations, someone you would want on your side in a tight corner. No sooner had Dona Beatriz finished speaking, with José Lemos mentally agreeing with her, than the voice of Lieutenant Porfírio was heard on the stairs. The master of the house gave a sigh of relief and satisfaction. The long-awaited guest entered the room.