THE stars still glittered in the sapphire arch of heaven and the birds were still sleeping among the branches when a merry party, lighted by torches of resin, commonly called huepes, made its way through the streets toward the lake. There were five girls, who walked along rapidly with hands clasped or arms encircling one another's waists, followed by some old women and by servants who were carrying gracefully on their heads baskets of food and dishes. Looking upon the laughing and hopeful countenances of the young women and watching the wind blow about their abundant black hair and the wide folds of their garments, we might have taken them for goddesses of the night fleeing from the day, did we not know that they were Maria Clara and her four friends, the merry Sinang, the grave Victoria, the beautiful Iday, and the thoughtful Neneng of modest and timid beauty. They were conversing in a lively manner, laughing and pinching one another, whispering in one another's ears and then breaking out into loud laughter.
"You'll wake up the people who are still asleep," Aunt Isabel scolded. "When we were young, we didn't make so much disturbance."
"Neither would you get up so early nor would the old folks have been such sleepy-heads," retorted little Sinang.
They were silent for a short time, then tried to talk in low tones, but soon forgot themselves and again filled the street with their fresh young voices.
"Behave as if you were displeased and don't talk to him," Sinang was advising Maria Clara. "Scold him so he won't get into bad habits."
