on and not find Aureliano Segundo at home。 His congestion had put an end to that fear。 When Meme returned； her parents had made an agreement that not only would the girl think that Aureliano Segundo was still a domesticated husband but also that she would not notice the sadness of the house。 Every year for two months Aureliano Segundo played his role of an exemplary husband and he organized parties with ice cream and cookies which the gay and lively schoolgirl enhanced with the clavichord。 It was obvious from then on that she had inherited very little of her mother’s character。 She seemed more of a second version of Amaranta when the latter had not known bitterness and was arousing the house with her dance steps at the age of twelve or fourteen before her secret passion for Pietro Crespi was to twist the direction of her heart in the end。 But unlike Amaranta； unlike all of them； Meme still did not reveal the solitary fate of the family and she seemed entirely in conformity with the world； even when she would shut herself up in the parlor at two in the afternoon to practice the clavichord with an inflexible discipline。 It was obvious that she liked the house； that she spent the whole year dreaming about the excitement of the young people her arrival brought around； and that she was not far removed from the festive vocation and hospitable excesses of her father。 The first sign of that calamitous inheritance was revealed on her third vacation； when Meme appeared at the house with four nuns and sixty…eight classmates whom she had invited to spend a week with her family on her own Initiative and without any previous warning。
“How awful！？Fernanda lamented。 “This child is as much of a barbarian as her father！？
It was necessary to borrow beds and hammocks from the neighbors； to set up nine shifts at the table； to fix hours for bathing； and to borrow forty stools so that the girls in blue uniforms with masculine buttons would not spend the whole day running from one place to another。 The visit was a failure because the noisy schoolgirls would scarcely finish breakfast before they had to start taking turns for lunch and then for dinner； and for the whole week they were able to take only one walk through the plantations。 At nightfall the nuns were exhausted； unable to move； give another order； and still the troop of tireless adolescents was in the courtyard singing school songs out of tune。 One day they were on the point of trampling ？rsula； who made an effort to be useful precisely where she was most in the way。 On another day the nuns got all excited because Colonel Aureliano Buendía had urinated under the chestnut tree without being concerned that the schoolgirls were in the courtyard。 Amaranta was on the point of causing panic because one of the nuns went into the kitchen as she was salting the soup and the only thing that occurred to her to say was to ask what those handfuls of white powder were。
“Arsenic；？Amaranta answered。
The night of their arrival the students carried on in such a way； trying to go to the bathroom before they went to bed； that at one o’clock in the morning the last ones were still going in。 Fernanda then bought seventy…two chamberpots but she only managed to change the nocturnal problem into a morning one； because from dawn on there was a long line of girls； each with her pot in her hand； waiting for her turn to wash it。 Although some of them suffered fevers and several of them were infected by mosquito bites； most of them showed an unbreakable resistance as they faced the most troublesome difficulties； and even at the time of the greatest heat they would scamper through the garden。 When they finally left； the flowers were destroyed； the furniture broken； and the walls covered with drawings and writing； but Fernanda pardoned them for all of the damage because of her relief at their leaving。 She returned the borrowed beds and stools and kept the seventy…two chamberpots in Melquíades？room。 The locked room； about which the spiritual life of the house revolved in former times； was known from that time on as the “chamberpot room。？For Colonel Aureliano Buendía it was the most appropriate name； because while the rest of the family was still amazed by the fact that Melquíades？room was immune to dust and destruction； he saw it turned into a dunghill。 In any case； it did not seem to bother him who was correct； and if he found out about the fate of the room it was because Fernanda kept passing by and disturbing his work for a whole afternoon as she put away the chamberpots。
During those days Jos？Arcadio Segundo reappeared in the house。 He went along the porch without greeting anyone and he shut himself up in the workshop to talk to the colonel。 In spite of the fact that she could not see him； ？rsula analyzed the clicking of his foreman’s boots and was surprised at the unbridgeable distance that separated him from the family； even from the twin brother with whom he had played ingenious games of confusion in childhood and with whom he no longer had any traits in mon。 He was linear； solemn； and had a pensive air and the sadness of a Saracen and a mournful glow on his face that was the color of autumn。 He was the one who most resembled his mother； Santa Sofía de la Piedad。 ？rsula reproached herself for the habit of forgetting about him when she spoke about the family； but when she sensed him in the house again and noticed that the colonel let him into the workshop during working hours； she reexamined her old memories and confirmed the belief that at some moment in childhood he had changed places with his twin brother； because it was he and not the other one who should have been called Aureliano。 No one knew the details of his life。 At one time it was discovered that he had no fixed abode； that he raised fighting cocks at Pilar Ternera’s house and that sometimes he would stay there to sleep but that he almost always spent the night in the rooms of the French matrons。 He drifted about； with no ties of affection； with no ambitions； like a wandering star in ？rsula’s planetary system。
In reality； Jos？Arcadio Segundo was not a member of the family； nor would he ever be of any other since that distant dawn when Colonel Gerineldo Márquez took him to the barracks； not so that he could see an execution； but so that for the rest of his life he would never forget the sad and somewhat mocking smile of the man being shot。 That was not only his oldest memory； but the only one he had of his childhood。 The other one； that of an old man with an old…fashioned vest and a hat with a brim like a crow’s wings who told him marvelous things framed in a dazzling window； he was unable to place in any period。 It was an uncertain memory； entirely devoid of lessons or nostalgia； the opposite of the memory of the executed man； which had really set the direction of his life and would return to his memory clearer and dearer as he grew older； as if the passage of time were bringing him closer to it。 ？rsula tried to use Jos？Arcadio Segundo to get Colonel Aureliano Buendía。 to give up his imprisonment。 “Get him to go to the movies；？she said to him。 “Even if he doesn’t like the picture； as least he’ll breathe a little fresh air。？But it did not take her long to realize that he was as insensible to her begging as the colonel would have been； and that they were armored by the same impermeability of affection。 Although she never knew； nor did anyone know； what they spoke about in their prolonged sessions shut up in the workshop； she understood that they were probably the only members of the family who seemed drawn together by some affinity。
The truth is that not even Jos？Arcadio Segundo would have been able to draw the colonel out of his confinement。 The invasion of schoolgirls had lowered the limits of his patience。 With the pretext that his wedding bedroom was at the mercy of the moths in spite of the destruction of Remedios？appetizing dolls； he hung a hammock in the workshop and then he would leave it only to go into the courtyard to take care of his necessities。 ？rsula was unable to string together even a trivial conversation with him。 She knew that he did not look at the dishes of food but would put them at one end of his workbench while he finished a little fish and it did not matter to him if the soup curdled or if the meat got cold。 He grew harder and harder ever since Colonel Gerineldo Márquez refused to back him up in a senile war。 He locked himself up inside himself and the family finally thought of him is if he were dead。 No other human reaction was seen in him until one October eleventh； when he went to the。 street door to watch a circus parade。 For Colonel Aureliano Buendía it had been a day just like all those of his last years。 At five o’clock in the morning the noise of the toads and crickets outside the wall woke him up。 The drizzle had persisted since Saturday and there was no necessity for him to hear their tiny whispering among the leaves of the garden because he would have felt the cold in his bones in any case。 He was； as always； wrapped in his woolen blanket and wearing his crude cotton long drawers； which he still wore for fort； even though because of their musty； old…fashioned style he called them his