ot use on him。 It too was an unnecessary effort because Meme had no desire to intervene in her father’s affairs and if she had； it would certainly have been in favor of the concubine。 She had no time to bother anybody。 She herself swept her room and made her bed； as the nuns had taught her。 In the morning she took care of her clothes； sewing on the porch or using Amaranta’s old pedal machine。 While the others were taking their siestas she would practice the clavichord for two hours； knowing that the daily sacrifice would keep Fernanda calm。 For the same reason she continued giving concerts at church fairs and school parties； even though the requests were less and less frequent。 At nightfall she would fix herself up； put on one of her simple dresses and her stiff high shoes； and if she had nothing to do with her father she would go to the homes of her girl friends； where she would stay until dinnertime。 It was rare that Aureliano Segundo would not call for her then to take her to the movies。
Among Meme’s friends there were three young American girls who broke through the electrified chicken fence barrier and made friends with girls from Macondo。 One of them was Patricia Brown。 Grateful for the hospitality of Aureliano Segundo； Mr。 Brown opened the doors of his house to Meme and invited her to the Saturday dances； which were the only ones where gringos and natives mingled。 When Fernanda found out about it she forgot about Amaranta ？rsula and the invisible doctors for a moment and became very melodramatic。 “Just think；？she said to Meme； “what the colonel must be thinking in his grave。？She sought； of course； the backing of ？rsula。 But the blind old woman； contrary to what everyone expected； saw nothing reproachable in Meme’s going to the dances and making friends with American girls her own age as long as she kept her strict habits and was not converted to the Protestant religion。 Meme sensed the thought of her great…great…grandmother very well and the day after the dances she would get up earlier than usual to go to mass。 Fernanda’s opposition lasted until the day when Meme broke down her resistance with the news that the Americans wanted to hear her play the clavichord。 The instrument was taken out of the house again and carried to Mr。 Brown’s； where the young concert artist really did receive very sincere applause and the most enthusiastic congratulations。 From then on she was invited not only to the dances but also to the Sunday swim parties in the pool and to lunch once a week。 Meme learned to swim like a professional； to play tennis； and to eat Virginia ham with slices of pineapple。 Among dances； swimming； and tennis she soon found herself getting involved in the English language。 Aureliano Segundo was so enthusiastic over the progress of his daughter that from a traveling salesman he bought a six…volume English encyclopedia with many color prints which Meme read in her spare time。 The reading occupied the attention that she had formerly given to gossip about sweethearts and the experimental retreats that she would go through with her girl friends； not because it was imposed as discipline but because she had lost all interest by then in talking about mysteries that were in the public domain。 She looked back on the drunken episode as an infantile adventure and it seemed so funny to her that she told Aureliano Segundo about it and he thought it was more amusing than she did。 “If your mother only knew；？he told her； doubling up with laughter； as he always said when he told her something in confidence。 He had made her promise that she would let him know about her first love affair with the same confidence； and Meme told him that she liked a redheaded American boy who had e to spend his vacation with his parents。 “What do you know；？Aureliano Segundo said； laughing。 “If your mother only knew。？But Meme also told him that the boy had gone back to his country and had disappeared from sight。 The maturity of her judgment ensured peace in the family。 Aureliano Segundo then devoted more time to Petra Cotes； and although his body and soul no longer permitted him the debauches of days gone by； he lost no chance to arrange them and to dig out the accordion； which by then had some keys held in place by shoelaces。 At home； Amaranta was weaving her interminable shroud and ？rsula dragged about in her decrepitude through the depths of the shadows where the only thing that was still visible was the ghost of Jos？Arcadio Buendía under the chestnut tree。 Fernanda consolidated her authority。 Her monthly letters to her son Jos？Arcadio at that time did not carry a string of lies and she hid from him only her correspondence with the invisible doctors； who had diagnosed a benign tumor in her large intestine and were preparing her for a telepathic operation。
It might have been aid that peace and happiness reigned for a long time in the tired mansion of the Buendías if it had not been for the sudden death of Amaranta； which caused a new uproar。 It was an unexpected event。 Although she was old and isolated from everyone； she still looked firm and upright and with the health of a rock that she had always had。 No one knew her thoughts since the afternoon on which she had given Colonel Gerineldo Márquez his final rejection and shut herself up to weep。 She was not seen to cry during the ascension to heaven of Remedios the Beauty or over the extermination of the Aurelianos or the death of Colonel Aureliano Buendía； who was the person she loved most in this world； although she showed it only when they found his body under the chestnut tree。 She helped pick up the body。 She dressed him in his soldier’s uniform； shaved him； bed his hair； and waxed his mustache better than he had ever done in his days of glory。 No one thought that there was any love in that act because they were accustomed to the familiarity of Amaranta with the rites of death。 Fernanda was scandalized that she did not understand the relationship of Catholicism with life but only its relationship with death； as if it were not a religion but a pendium of funeral conventions。 Amaranta was too wrapped up in the eggplant patch of her memories to understand those subtle apologetics。 She had reached old age with all of her nostalgias intact。 When she listened to the waltzes of Pietro Crespi she felt the same desire to weep that she had had in adolescence； as if time and harsh lessons had meant nothing。 The rolls of music that she herself had thrown into the trash with the pretext that they had rotted from dampness kept spinning and playing in her memory。 She had tried to sink them into the swampy passion that she allowed herself with her nephew Aureliano Jos？and she tried to take refuge in the calm and virile protection of Colonel Gerineldo Márquez； but she had not been able to overe them； not even with the most desperate act of her old age when she would bathe the small Jos？Arcadio three years before he was sent to the seminary and caress him not as a grandmother would have done with a grandchild； but as a woman would have done with a man； as it was said that the French matrons did and as she had wanted to do with Pietro Crespi at the age of twelve； fourteen； when she saw him in his dancing tights and with the magic wand with which he kept time to the metronome。 At times It pained her to have let that outpouring of misery follow its course； and at times it made her so angry that she would prick her fingers with the needles； but what pained her most and enraged her most and made her most bitter was the fragrant and wormy guava grove of love that was dragging her toward death。 Just as Colonel Aureliano Buendía thought about his war； unable to avoid it； so Amaranta thought about Rebeca。 But while her brother had managed to sterilize his memories； she had only managed to make hers more scalding。 The only thing that she asked of God for many years was that he would not visit on her the punishment of dying before Rebeca。 Every time she passed by her house and noted the progress of destruction she took fort in the idea that God was listening to her。 One afternoon； when she was sewing on the porch； she was assailed by the certainty that she would be sitting in that place； in the same position； and under the same light when they brought her the news of Rebeca’s death。 She sat down to wait for it； as one waits for a letter； and the fact was that at one time she would pull off buttons to sew them on again so that inactivity would not make the wait longer and more anxious。 No one in the house realized that at that time Amaranta was sewing a fine shroud for Rebeca。 Later on； when Aureliano Triste told how he had seen her changed into an apparition with leathery skin and a few golden threads on her skull； Amaranta was not surprised because the specter described was exactly what she had been imagining for some time。 She had decided to restore Rebeca’s corpse； to disguise with paraffin the damage to her face and make a wig for her from the hair of the saints。 She would manufacture a beautiful corpse； with the linen shroud and a plush…lined coffin with purple trim。 and she would put it at the disposition of the worms with splendid funeral ceremonies。 She worked out the plan with such hatred that it made he