She went away repeating once more that Josephina was killing
herself, that it was perfect folly for her to nurse the baby in her
delicate condition, regretting that she did not follow the example of
her mother who had always intrusted her children to nurses.
Josephina cried bitterly when her mother went, but Renovales said
"good-by" with ill-concealed joy. _Bon voyage_! He simply could not
endure the woman, always complaining that she was being neglected when
she saw how her son-in-law was working to make her daughter happy. The
only thing he agreed with her in was in scolding Josephina tenderly for
her obstinacy in nursing the baby. Poor little _Maja Desnuda_! Her form
had lost its bud-like daintiness in the full flower of motherhood.
She appeared more robust, but the stoutness was accompanied by an anemic
weakness. Her husband, seeing how she was losing her daintiness, loved
her with more tender compassion. Poor little girl! How good she was! She
was sacrificing herself for her daughter.
When the baby was a year old, the great crisis in Renovales' life
occurred. Desirous of taking a "bath in art," of knowing what was going
on outside of the dungeon in which he was imprisoned, painting at so
much a piece, he left Josephina in Venice and made a short trip to Paris
to see its famous Salon. He came back transfigured, with a new fever for
work and a determination to transform his existence which filled his
wife with astonishment and fear.
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