1. health and fitness
2. disorders
3. mental disorder
4. panic and anxiety

MONSIEUR,MADAMEANDBEBE
ByGUSTAVEDROZ
BOOK2.
CHAP T ERXIII
T HEB LUENOT E- B OOK
To war dmidnig htmammamadeasig nto mewithher eyes,andunder co ver o falivelywaltzwe
slippedo uto fthedr awing -r o o m.Inthehalltheser vants,who wer epassing to andfr o ,dr ewasideto
letusg o bythem,butIfeltthattheir eyeswer efixedupo nmewiththecur io sitywhichhadpur sued
mesincethemo r ning .T helar g edo o r g iving o nto thepar kwaso pen,altho ug hthenig htwasco o l,
andintheshado wIco uldmakeo utg r o upso fco untr yfo lkg ather edther eto catchag limpseo fthe
festivitiesthr o ug hthewindo ws.T heseg o o dpeo plewer elaug hing andwhisper ing ;theywer esilent
fo r amo mentasweadvancedto ascendthestair case,butIo ncemo r efeltthatIwasthemar ko fthese
inquisitivelo o ksandtheo bjecto fallthesesmiles.T hefaceo fmamma,who acco mpaniedme,was
muchflushed,andlar g etear swer eflo wing fr o mher eyes.
Ho wwasitthataneventso g ayfo r so mewasso sadfo r o ther s?
WhenIthinko ver itno wIcanhar dlykeepmyco untenance.Whatsillyter r o r satthatfr ig htfulyet
char ming mo ment!Yet,after all,o neexag g er atesthing sag r eatdeal.
Onr eaching thefir stflo o r mammasto pped,cho king ,to o kmyheadinher hands,andkissedmeo n
thefo r ehead,andexclaimed,"Valentine!"Iwasno tg r eatlymo vedbythiso utbur st,kno wing that
mamma,sinceshehasg r o wnalittleto o sto ut,hasso medifficultying etting upstair s.Ijudg ed,
ther efo r e,thatthewishto takebr eathfo r amo mentwitho utappear ing to do so hadso mething to do
withthissuddenhalt.
Weenter edthenuptialchamber ;itwasasco quettishaspo ssible,r efr eshing to theeye,snug ,eleg ant,
andado r nedwithfineLo uisXVIfur nitur e,upho lster edinBeauvaistapestr y.T hebed,abo veall,wasa
marvelofelegance,buttotellthetruthIhadnoideaofittillaweeklater.Attheoutsideitseemedto
methatIwasenteringanaustere-lookinglocality;theveryairwebreathedappearedtometohave
somethingsolemnandawe-strikingaboutit.
"Hereisyourroom,child,"saidmamma;"butfirstofallcomeandsitherebesideme,mydeargirl."
Atthesewordswebothburstintotears,andmammathenexpressedherselfasfollows:
"Thekissyouaregivingme,Valentine,isthelastkissthatIshallhavefromyouasagirl.Your
husband—forGeorgesisthatnow—"
AtthesewordsIshudderedslightly,andbyasingularfreakofmybrainpicturedtomyselfMonsieur
Georges—Georges—myhusband—inacottonnightcapandadressing-gown.Thevisionflashed
acrossmymindinthemidstofthestorm.Isawhimjustasplainlyasifhehadbeenthere.Itwas
dreadful.Thenightcapcameoverhisforehead,downtohiseyebrows,andhesaidtome,pressingmy
hand;"Atlast,Valentine;youaremine;doyouloveme?oh!tellme,doyouloveme?"Andashis
headmovedasheutteredthesewords,thehorribletuftattheendofhisnightcapwaggledasan
accompaniment.
"No,"Isaidtomyself,"itisimpossibleformyhusbandtoappearinsuchafashion;letmebanishthis
image—andyetmyfatherwearsthehideousthings,andmybrother,whoisquiteyoung,hasthem
already.Menwearthematallages,unlessthough—"Itisfrightfultorelate,butGeorgesnow
appearedtomewithared-and-greenbandannahandkerchieftiedroundhishead.Iwouldhavegiven
tenyearsofmylifetobetwohoursolder,andhurriedlypassedmyhandacrossmyeyestodrive
awaythesediabolicalvisions.
However,mamma,whohadbeenstillspeakingallthetime,attributingthismovementtotheemotion
causedbyherwords,said,withgreatsweetness:
"Donotbealarmed,mydearValentine;perhapsIampaintingthepictureintoogloomycolors;but
myexperienceandmyloverenderthisdutyincumbentuponme."
Ihaveneverheardmammaexpressherselfsofluently.Iwasallthemoresurprisedas,nothaving
heardawordofwhatshehadalreadysaid,thissentenceseemedsuddenlysprunguponme.Not
knowingwhattoanswer,Ithrewmyselfintothearmsofmamma,who,afteraminuteorso,putme
awaygently,saying,"Youaresuffocatingme,dear."
Shewipedhereyeswithherlittlecambrichandkerchief,whichwasdamp,andsaid,smilingly:
"NowthatIhavetoldyouwhatmyconscienceimposedonme,Iamstrong.See,dear,IthinkthatIcan
smile.Yourhusband,mydearchild,isamanfullofdelicacy.Haveconfidence;acceptallwithout
misgiving."
Mammakissedmeontheforehead,whichfinishedoffhersentence,andadded:
"Now,dearone,IhavefulfilledadutyIregardedassacred.Comehereandletmetakeyourwreath
off."
"Bythistime,"Ithought,"theyhavenoticedthatIhaveleftthedrawing-room.Theyaresaying,
'Whereisthebride?'andsmiling,'MonsieurGeorgesisgettinguneasy.Whatishedoing?whatishe
thinking?whereishe?'"
"Haveyoutriedonyournightcap,dear?"saidmamma,whohadrecoveredherself;"itlooksrather
smalltome,butisnicelyembroidered.Oh,itislovely!"
Andsheexamineditfromeverypointofview.
Atthatmomenttherewasaknockatthedoor."ItisI,"saidseveralvoices,amongwhichI
distinguishedtheflute-liketonesofmyauntLaura,andthoseofmygodmother.MadamedeP.,who
nevermissesachanceofpressinghertwothicklipstosomeone'scheeks,accompaniedthem.Their
eyesglittered,andallthreehadaslyandtriumphantlook,ferretingandinquisitive,whichgreatly
intimidatedme.Wouldtheyalsosetaboutfulfillingasacredduty?
"Oh,youarereallytoopretty,myangel!"saidMadamedeP.,kissingmeontheforehead,afterthe
moistfashionpeculiartoher,andthensittingdowninthelargeLouisXVIarmchair.
Mymaidhadnotbeenallowedtoundressme,sothatallofthem,takingofftheirgloves,settowork
torendermethisservice.Theytangledthelaces,caughttheirownlaceinthehooks,andlaughed
heartilyallthewhile.
"Itistheleastthattheoldestfriendofthefamily,"—shelovedtospeakofherselfassuch—"should
makeherselfusefulatsuchamoment,"mutteredMadamedeP.,holdinghereyeglassinonehandand
workingwiththeother.
Ipassedintoalittleboudoirtocompletemytoiletteforthenight,andfoundonthemarbleofthe
dressing-tablefiveorsixbottlesofscent,tiedupwithred,white,andblueribbons—anactof
attentiononthepartofmyAuntLaura.Ifeltthebloodflyingtomyhead;therewasanunbearable
singinginmyears.NowthatIcancoollyweightheimpressionsIunderwent,IcantellthatwhatIfelt
aboveallwasanger.IwouldhavelikedtobeinthefarthestdepthsofthewildestforestinAmerica,so
unseemlydidIfindthiscuriouskindnesswhichhauntedmewithitsattentions.Ishouldhavelikedto
conversealittlewithmyself,tofathommyownemotionsomewhat,and,inshort,toutterabrief
prayerbeforethrowingmyselfintothetorrent.
However,throughtheopendoor,Icouldhearthefourladieswhisperingtogetherandstiflingtheir
outburstsoflaughter;Ihadneverseenthemsogay.Imadeupmymind.Icrossedtheroom,and,
shakingofftheprettylittlewhiteslipperswhichmymotherhadembroideredforme,jumpedinto
bed.Iwasnotlonginfindingoutthatitwasnolongermyownnarrowlittlebed.Itwasimmense,and
Ihesitatedamoment,notknowingwhichwaytoturn.Ifeltneverthelessafeelingofphysicalcomfort.
Thebedwaswarm,andIdonotknowwhatscentrosefromitssilkencoverlet.Ifeltmyselfsinkinto
themassoffeathers,thepillows,twiceovertoolargeandtrimmedwithembroidery,gavewayasit
werebeneathme,buryingmeinasoftandperfumedabyss.
Atlengththeladiesrose,andaftergivingaglanceroundtheroom,doubtlesstomakesurethat
nothingwaslacking,approachedthebed.
"Good-night,mydeargirl,"saidmymother,bendingoverme.
Shekissedme,carriedherhandkerchief,nowreducedtoawetdab,tohereyes,andwentoutwitha
certainprecipitation.
"Rememberthattheoldfriendofthefamilykissedyouonthisnight,mylove,"saidMadamedeP.,as
shemoistenedmyforehead.
"Come,mylittlelamb,good-nightandsleepwell,"saidmyaunt,withhersmilethatseemedtoissue
fromhernose.Sheaddedinawhisper:"Youlovehim,don'tyou?Theslyboots!shewon'tanswer!
Well,sinceyoulovehimsomuch,don'ttellhimso,mydear.ButImustleaveyou;youaresleepy.
Goodnight."
Andshewentaway,smiling.
AtlengthIwasalone.Ilistened;thedoorswerebeingclosed,Iheardacarriagerollalongtheroad;
theflameofthetwocandlesplaceduponthemantelshelfquiveredsilentlyandwerereflectedinthe
looking-glass.
Ithoughtabouttheceremonyofthatmorning,thedinner,theball.Isaidtomyself,clenchingmyfists
toconcentratemythoughts:"HowwasMariedressed?Shewasdressedin—dressedin—dressedin
—"Irepeatedthewordsaloudtoimpartmoreauthoritytothemandobligemymindtoreply;butdo
whatIwould,itwasimpossibleformetodriveawaythethoughtthatinvadedmywholebeing.
"Heiscoming.Whatishedoing?Whereishe?Perhapsheisonthestairsnow.HowshallIreceive
himwhenhecomes?"
Ilovedhim;oh!withmywholesoul,Icanacknowledgeitnow;butIlovedhimquiteatthebottomof
myheart.InordertothinkofhimIwentdownintotheverylowestchamberofmyheart,boltedthe
door,andcroucheddowninthedarkestcorner.
Atlast,atacertainmoment,thefloorcreaked,adoorwasopenedinthepassagewithathousand
precautions,andIheardthetreadofaboot—aboot!
Thebootceasedtocreak,andIheardquiteclosetome,ontheothersideofthewall,whichwas
nothingbutathinpartition,anarmchairbeingrolledacrossthecarpet,andthenalittlecough,which
seemedtometovibratewithemotion.Itwashe!ButforthepartitionIcouldhavetouchedhimwith
myfinger.AfewmomentslaterIcoulddistinguishthealmostimperceptiblesoundoffootstepsonthe
carpet;thisfaintsoundrangviolentlyinmyhead.Allatoncemybreathingandmyheartbothstopped
together;therewasatapatthedoor.Thetappingwasdiscreet,fullofentreatyanddelicacy.Iwanted
toreply,"Comein,"butIhadnolongeranyvoice;and,besides,wasitbecomingtoanswerlikethat,
socurtlyandplainly?Ithought"Comein"wouldsoundhorriblyunseemly,andIsaidnothing.There
wasanothertap.Ishouldreallyhavepreferredthedoortohavebeenbrokenopenwithahatchetor
forhimtohavecomedownthechimney.InmyagonyIcoughedfaintlyamongmysheets.Thatwas
enough;thedooropened,andIdivinedfromthealterationinthelightshedbythecandlesthatsome
oneatwhomIdidnotdarelookwasinterposingbetweenthemandmyself.
Thissomeone,whoseemedtoglideacrossthecarpet,drewnearthebed,andIcoulddistinguishout
ofthecornerofmyeyehisshadowonthewall.Icouldscarcelyrestrainmyjoy;myCaptainwore
neithercottonnightcapnorbandannahandkerchief.Thatwasindeedsomething.However,inthis
shadowwhichrepresentedhiminprofile,hisnosehadsomuchimportancethatamidallmy
uneasinessasmileflittedacrossmylips.Isitnotstrangehowalltheselittledetailsrecurtoyour
mind?Ididnotdareturnround,butIdevouredwithmyeyesthisshadowrepresentingmyhusband;I
triedtotraceinittheslightestofhisgestures;Ievensoughtthevaryingexpressionsofhis
physiognomy,but,alas!invain.
IdonotknowhowtoexpressinwordsallthatIfeltatthatmoment;mypenseemstooclumsytowrite
mysensations,and,besides,didIreallyseedeepintomyheart?
Domencomprehendallthis?Dotheyunderstandthattheheartrequiresgradualchanges,andthatifa
half-lightawakens,anoon-dayblazedazzlesandburns?Itisnotthatthepoorchild,whoistrembling
inacorner,refusestolearn;farfromthat,shehasaptitude,good-will,andaquickandready
intelligence;sheknowsshehasreachedtheageatwhichitisnecessarytoknowhowtoread;she
rejectsneitherthesciencenoreventheteacher.Itisthemethodofinstructionthatmakesheruneasy.
Sheisafraidlestthisyoungprofessor,whoseknowledgeissoextensive,shouldturnoverthepages
ofthebooktooquicklyandneglecttheABC.
Afewhoursbackhewasthesubmissive,humblelover,readytokneeldownbeforeher,hidinghis
knowledgeasonehidesasin,speakinghisownlanguagewithathousandcircumspections.Atany
momentitmighthavebeenthoughtthathewasgoingtoblush.Shewasaqueen,heachild;andnow
allatoncetherolesarechanged;itisthesubmissivesubjectwhoarrivesinthecollegecapofa
professor,hidingunderhisarmanunknownandmysteriousbook.Isthemaninthecollegecapabout
tocommand,tosmile,toobtrudehimselfandhisbooks,tospeakLatin,todeliveralecture?
Shedoesnotknowthatthislearnedindividualistrembling,too;thatheisgreatlyembarrassedover
hisopeninglesson,thatemotionhascausedhimtoforgethisLatin,thathisthroatisparchedandhis
legsaretremblingbeneathhim.Shedoesnotknowthis,andItellyoubetweenourselves,itisnother
self-esteemthatsuffersleastatthisconjecture.Shesuffersatfindingherself,aftersomany
signatures,contracts,andceremonies-stillacharmingchild,andnothingmore.
Ibelievethatthefirststepinconjugallifewill,accordingtothecircumstancesaccompanyingit,give
birthtocaptivatingsympathiesorinvinciblerepulsion.Buttogivebirthtothesesympathies,tostrike
thesparkthatistosetlighttothisexplosionofinfinitegratitudeandjoyfullove—whatart,whattact,
whatdelicacy,andatthesametimewhatpresenceofmindareneeded.
HowwasitthatatthefirstwordGeorgesutteredmyterrorsvanished?Hisvoicewassofirmandso
sweet,heaskedmesogaylyforleavetodrawnearthefireandwarmhisfeet,andspoketomewith
sucheaseandanimationoftheincidentsoftheday.Isaidtomyself,"Itisimpossiblefortheleast
basenesstobehiddenunderallthis."Inpresenceofsomuchgood-humorandaffabilitymy
scaffoldingfelltopieces.Iventuredalookfrombeneaththesheets:Isawhimcomfortablyinstalled
inthebigarmchair,andIbitmylips.Iamstillatalosstounderstandthislittlefitofill-temper.When
oneisreckoningonafright,oneisreallydisappointedatitsdelayingitself.NeverhadGeorgesbeen
morewitty,moreaffectionate,morewell-bred;hewasstillthemanofthedaybefore.Hemustreally
havebeenveryexcited.
"Youaretiredout,Iamcertain,darling,"hesaid.
Theword"darling"mademestart,butdidnotfrightenme;itwasthefirsttimehehadcalledmeso,
butIreallycouldnotrefusehimtheprivilegeofspeakingthus.Howeveritmaybe,Imaintainedmy
reserve,andinthesametoneasonereplies,"Nothanks,Idon'ttaketea,"Ianswered:
"Oh,yes!Iamwornout."
"Ithoughtso,"headded,approachingthebed;"youcannotkeepyoureyesopen;youcannoteven
lookatme,mydearlittlewife."
"Iwillleaveyou,"continuedhe."Iwillleaveyou;youneedrepose."Andhedrewstillmoreclosely
tome,whichwasnotnatural.Then,stretchingouthishand,whichIknewwaswhiteandwellcared
for:"Won'tyougivemealittleshakeofthehand,dear?Iamhalfasleep,too,myprettylittlewife."
Hisfaceworeanexpressionwhichwasalarming,thoughnotwithoutitscharm;ashesaidthis,Isaw
clearlythathehadliedtomelikeademon,andthathewasnomoresleepythanIwas.
Howeverthatmaybe,Iwasguiltyofthefault,thecarelessnessthatcausesdisaster,oflettinghimtake
myhand,whichwasstrayingbychanceunderthelaceofthepillows.
Iwasthateveninginaspecialconditionofnervoussensibility,foratthiscontactastrangesensation
ranthroughmefromheadtofoot.ItwasnotthattheCaptain'shandhadthesoftnessofsatin—I
believethatphysicalsensations,inuswomen,havecausesdirectlycontrarytothosewhichmove
men;forthatwhichcausedmesuchlivelyemotionwaspreciselyitsfirmness.Therewassomething
strong,manly,andpowerfulaboutit.Hesqueezedmyhandratherstrongly.
Myrings,whichIhaveafancyforwearingallatonce,hurtme,and—Ireallyshouldnothave
believedit—Ilikeditverymuch,perhapstoomuch.ForthefirsttimeIfoundaninexplicable,an
almostintoxicating,charminthisintimatecontactwithabeingwhocouldhavecrushedmebetween
hisfingers,andthatinthemiddleofthenighttoo,insilence,withoutanypossibilityofhelp.Itwas
horriblydelicious.
Ididnotwithdrawmyhand,whichhekissed,butlingeringly.Theclockstrucktwo,andthelastsound
hadlongsincediedawaywhenhislipswerestillthere,quiveringwithrapidlittlemovements,which
weresomanyimperceptiblekisses,moist,warm,burning.Ifeltgleamsoffireflashingaroundme.I
wishedtodrawawaymyhand,butcouldnot;IrememberperfectlywellthatIcouldnot.His
moustacheprickedme,andwhiffsofthescentwithwhichheperfumeditreachedmeandcompleted
mytrouble.Ifeltmynostrilsdilatingdespitemyself,and,strivingbutinvaintotakerefugeinmy
inmostbeing,Iexclaimedinwardly:"Protectme,Lord,butthistimewithallyourmight.Adropof
water,Lord;adropofwater!"Iwaited—noappreciablesuccorreachedfromabove.Itwasnottilla
weekafterwardthatIunderstoodtheintentionsofProvidence.
"Youtoldmeyouweresleepy,"Imurmured,inatremblingvoice.Iwaslikeashipwreckedperson
clutchingatafloatingmatch-box;IknewquitewellthattheCaptainwouldnotgoaway.
"Yes,Iwassleepy,pet,"saidGeorges,approachinghisfacetomine;"butnowIamathirst."Heputhis
lipstomyearandwhisperedsoftly,"Athirstforakissfromyou,love."
This"love"wasthebeginningofanotherlife.Thespousenowappeared,thepastwasfleeingaway,I
wasenteringonthefuture.AtlengthIhadcrossedthefrontier;Iwasinaforeignland.Oh!I
acknowledge—forwhatistheuseoffeigning?—thatIcravedforthislove,andIfeltthatitengrossed
meandspreaditselfthroughme.IfeltthatIwasgettingoutofmydepth,Iletgothelastbranchthat
heldmetotheshore,andtomyselfIrepeated:"Yes,Iloveyou;yes,Iamwillingtofollowyou;yes,I
amyours,love,love,love!"
"Won'tyoukissyourhusband;come,won'tyou?"
Andhismouthwassonearmyownthatitseemedtomeetmylips.
"Yes,"saidI.
………………………..
August7th,185-HowmanytimeshaveInotreadthroughyouduringthelasttwoyears,mylittleblue
note-book!HowmanythingsImightaddasmarginalnotesifyouwerenotdoomedtotheflames,to
lightmyfirstfirethisautumn!HowcouldIhavewrittenallthis,andhowisitthathavingdonesoI
havenotdaredtocompletemyconfidences!Noonehasseenyou,atanyrate;noonehasturnedyour
pages.Gobackintoyourdrawer,dear,with,pendingthefirstautumnfire,akissfromyourValentine.
NOTE.—Owingtowhatcircumstancesthisbluenote-book,doomedtotheflames,wasdiscoveredby
meinanoldLouisXVIchiffonnierIhadjustboughtdoesnotgreatlymattertoyou,dearreader,and
wouldbeoutofmypowertoexplainevenifitdid.
CHAPTERXIV
THEBLUENOTE-BOOKAGAIN
OnlytothinkthatIwasgoingtothrowyouintothefire,poordear!WasInotfoolish?Inwhomelse
couldIconfide?IfIhadnotyou,towhomcouldItellallthoselittlethingsatwhicheveryonelaughs,
butwhichmakeyoucry!
Thisevening,forinstance,Idinedalone,forGeorgeswasinvitedout;well,towhomelsecanI
acknowledgethatwhenIfoundmyselfalone,facetofacewithalegofmutton,cookedtohisliking,
andwiththelargecarving-knifewhichisusuallybesidehisplate,beforeme,Ibegantocrylikea
child?TowhomelsecanIadmitthatIdrankoutoftheBohemianwine-glassheprefers,toconsole
mealittle?
ButifIweretomentionthistheywouldlaughinmyface.FatherCyprienhimself,whonevertheless
hasaheartrunningoverwithkindness,wouldsaytome:
"Letuspassthatby,mydearchild;letuspassthatby."
Iknowhimsowell,FatherCyprien;whileyou,youalwayslistentome,mypoorlittlenote-book;ifa
tearescapesme,youkindlyabsorbitandretainitstracelikeagood-heartedfriend.HenceIloveyou.
And,sincewearetete-a-tete,letushaveachat.Youwon'tbeangrywithmeforwritingwithapencil,
dear.YouseeIamverycomfortablysettledinmybigby-byandIdonotwanttohaveanyink-stains.
Thefiresparklesonthehearth,thestreetissilent;letusforgetthatGeorgewillnotreturntill
midnight,andturnbacktothepast.
Icannotrecallthefirstmonthofthatdearpastwithoutlaughingandweepingatoneandthesame
time.
Howfoolishwewere!Howsweetitwas!Thereisamethodofteachingswimmingwhichisnotthe
leastsuccessful,Iamtold.ItconsistsinthrowingthefutureswimmerintothewaterandprayingGod
tohelphim.Iamassuredthatafterthefirstlessonhekeepshimselfafloat.
Well,Ithinkthatwewomenaretaughttobewivesinverymuchthesamefashion.
Happyorotherwise—thepointisopentodiscussionmarriageisahurricane—somethingunheard-of
andalarming.
Inasinglenight,andwithoutanytransition,everythingistransformedandchangescolor;theerst
while-cravatted,freshlycurled,carefullydressedgentlemanmakeshisappearanceinadressinggown.Thatwhichwasprohibitedbecomespermissible,thecodeisaltered,andwordsacquirea
meaningtheyneverhadbefore,etcetera,etcetera.
Itisnotthatallthisissoalarming,iftakentherightway—awomanwithsomecourageinherheart
andsomeflexibilityinhermindsupportstheshockanddoesnotdieunderit;butthefirmestofusare
amazedatit,andstandopen-mouthedamidallthesestrangenovelties,likeapennilessgourmandin
theshopofPotelandChabot.
Theydarenottouchthesedelicaciessurroundingthem,thoughinvitedtotaste.Itisnotthatthewish
ortheappetiteislackingtothem,butallthesefinefruitshavebeenofferedthemsolatelythatthey
havestillthesomewhatacidcharmofgreenapplesorforbiddenfruit.Theyapproach,butthey
hesitatetobite.
Afterall,whycomplain?Whatwouldonehavetorememberifonehadenteredmarriedlifelikean
inn,ifonehadnottrembledalittlewhenknockingatthedoor?Anditissopleasanttorecallthings,
thatonewouldsometimesliketodeckthefutureinthegarmentsofthepast.
Itwas,Irecollect,twodaysaftertheall-importantone.Ihadgoneintohisroom,Inolonger
rememberwhy—forthepleasureofgoingin,Isuppose,andtherebyactingasawife.Astrongdesire
isthatwhichspringsupinyourbrainafterleavingchurchtolooklikeanoldmarriedwoman.You
putoncapswithribbons,youneverlayasideyourcashmereshawl,youtalkof"myhome"—two
sweetwords—andthenyoubiteyourlipstokeepfrombreakingoutintoalaugh;and"myhusband,"
and"mymaid,"andthefirstdinneryouorder,whenyouforgetthesoup.Allthisischarming,and,
howeverillateaseyoumayfeelatfirstinallthesenewclothes,youarequiteeagertoputthemon.
SoIhadgoneintothedressing-roomofmyhusband,who,standingbeforetheglass,verylightly
clad,wasprosaicallyshaving.
"Excuseme,dear,"saidhe,laughing,andhehelduphisshaving-brush,coveredwithwhitelather.
"Youwillpardonmygoingonwiththis.Doyouwantanything?"
"Icame,onthecontrary,"Ianswered,"toseewhetheryouhadneedofanything;"and,greatly
embarrassedmyself,forIwasafraidofbeingindiscreet,andIwasnotsurewhetheroneoughttogo
intoone'shusband'sroomlikethis,Iadded,innocently,"Yourshirtshavebuttons,havetheynot?"
"Oh,whatagoodlittlehousewifeIhavemarried!Donotbotheryourselfaboutsuchtrifles,mypet.I
willaskyourmaidtolookaftermybuttons,"saidhe.
Ifeltconfused;Iwasafraidofappealingtoomuchofaschoolgirlinhiseyes.Hewentonworking
hissoapintoalatherwithhisshaving-brush.Iwantedtogoaway,butIwasinterestedinsuchanovel
fashionbythesightofmyhusband,thatIhadnotcouragetodoso.Hisneckwasbare—athick,
strongneck,butverywhiteandchangingitsshapeateverymovement—themuscles,youknow.It
wouldhavebeenhorribleinawoman,thatneck,andyetitdidnotseemuglytome.Norwasit
admirationthatthusinspiredme;itwasratherlikegluttony.Iwantedtotouchit.Hishair,cutvery
short—accordingtoregulation—grewverylow,andbetweenitsbeginningandtheeartherewas
quiteasmoothwhiteplace.TheideaatonceoccurredtomethatifeverIbecamebraveenough,itwas
therethatIshouldkisshimoftenest;itwasstrange,thatpresentiment,foritisinfactonthatlittlespot
thatI—
Hestoppedshort.IfanciedIunderstoodthathewasafraidofappearingcomicalinmyeyes,withhis
facesmotheredinlather;buthewaswrong.Ifeltmyselfallinaquiveratbeingbesideaman—the
wordmanisratherdistastefultome,butIcannotfindanother,forhusbandwouldnotexpressmy
thoughts—atbeingbesideamaninthemakingofhistoilette.Ishouldhavelikedhimtogoon
withouttroublinghimself;Ishouldhavelikedtoseehowhemanagedtoshavehimselfwithout
encroachingonhismoustache,howhemadehispartingandbrushedhishairwiththetworound
brushesIsawonthetable,whatusehemadeofallthelittleinstrumentssetoutinorderonthe
marble-tweezers,scissors,tinycombs,littlepotsandbottleswithsilvertops,andawholearsenalof
brightthings,thatarousedquiteadesiretobeautifyone'sself.
Ishouldhavelikedhimwhiletalkingtoattendtothenailsofhishands,whichIwasalreadyveryfond
of;or,betterstill,tohavehandedthemovertome.HowIshouldhaverummagedinthelittlecorners,
cut,filed,arrangedallthat.
"Well,dear,whatareyoulookingatmelikethatfor?"saidhe,smiling.
Iloweredmyeyesatonce,andfeltthatIwasblushing.Iwasuneasy,althoughcharmed,amidthese
newsurroundings.Ididnotknowwhattoanswer,andmechanicallyIdippedthetipofmyfingerinto
thelittlechinapotinwhichthesoapwasbeinglathered.
"Whatisthematter,darling?"saidhe,approachinghisfacetomine;"haveIoffendedyou?"
Idon'tknowwhatstrangeideadartedthroughmymind,butIsuddenlytookmyhandfromthepotand
stuckthebigballoflatherattheendofmyfingeronthetipofhisnose.Hebrokeoutintoahearty
laugh,andsodidI;thoughItrembledforamoment,lestheshouldbeangry.
"Sothat'sthewayinwhichyoubehavetoacaptaininthelancers?Youshallpayforthis,youwicked
littledarling;"and,takingtheshavingbrushinhishand,hechasedmeroundtheroom.Idodged
roundthetable,Itookrefugebehindthearmchair,upsettinghisbootswithmyskirt,gettingthetongs
atthesametimeentangledinit.Passingthesofa,Inoticedhisuniformlaidout—hehadtowaitonthe
Generalthatmorning—and,seizinghisschapska,Imadeuseofitasabuckler.Butlaughterparalyzed
me,andbesides,whatcouldapoorlittlewomandoagainstasoldier,evenwithabuckler?
Heendedbycatchingme—thestrugglewasalovelyone.Itwasallverywellformetoscream,asI
threwmyheadbackwardoverthearmbywhichheclaspedme;Inonethelesssawthefrightfulbrush,
likeabigsnowball,attheendofalittlestick,comenearerandyetnearer.
Buthewasmerciful;hewassatisfiedwithdaubingalittlewhitespotonmychinandexclaiming,"The
cavalryhaveavengedthemselves."
Seizingthebrushinturn,Isaidtohimroguishly,"Captain,letmelatheryourface,"forIdidsowant
todothat.
Inanswer,heheldhisfacetowardme,and,observingthatIwasobligedtostandonthetipsofmy
toesandtosupportmyselfalittleonhisshoulder,hekneltdownbeforemeandyieldedhisheadto
me.
WiththetipofmyfingerImadehimbendhisfacetotherightandtheleft,backwardandforward,
andIlatheredandlathered,gigglinglikeaschoolgirl.ItamusedmesotoseemyCaptainobeyme
likeachild;IwouldhavegivenIdon'tknowwhatifhehadonlyhadhisswordandspursonatthat
moment.Unfortunately,hewasinhisslippers.Ispreadthelatheroverhisnoseandforehead;he
closedhiseyesandputhistwoarmsroundme,saying:
"Goon,mydear,goon;butseethatyoudon'tputanyintomymouth."
AtthatmomentIexperiencedaverystrangefeeling.Mylaughterdiedawayallatonce;Ifeltashamed
atseeingmyhusbandatmyfeetandatthusamusingmyselfwithhimasifhewereadoll.
Idroppedtheshaving-brush;Ifeltmyeyesgrowmoist;and,suddenly,becomingmoretender,Ibent
towardhimandkissedhimontheneck,whichwastheonlyspotleftclear.
Yethisearwassonearthat,inpassingit,mylipsmovedalmostinspiteofmyself,andIwhispered:
"Don'tbeangry,dear,"then,overcomebyemotionandrepentance,
Iadded:"Iloveyou,Idoloveyou."
"Myownpet!"hesaid,risingsuddenly.Hisvoiceshook.
Whatdelightfulmomentsthesewere!Unfortunately,oh!yes,indeed,unfortunately,hecouldnotpress
hislatheredfacetomine!
"Waitalittle,"heexclaimed,dartingtowardthewashbasin,fullofwater,"waitaninstant!"
Butitseemedasifittookhimaweektowashitoff.
CHAPTERXV
MYWIFEGOESTOADANCE
Madame—Ah!itissoniceofyoutocomehomeearly!(Lookingattheclock.)Aquartertosix.But
howcoldyouare!yourhandsarefrozen;comeandsitbythefire.(Sheputsalogonthefire.)Ihave
beenthinkingofyouallday.Itiscrueltohavetogooutinsuchweather.Haveyoufinishedyour
doubts?areyousatisfied?
Monsieur—Quitewellsatisfied,dear.(Aside.)ButIhaveneverknownmywifetobesoamiable.
(Aloud,takingupthebellows.)Quitewellsatisfied,andIamveryhungry.Hasmydarlingbeen
good?
Madame—Youarehungry.Good!(Callingout.)Marie,callintothekitchenthatyourmasterwantsto
dineearly.Letthemlookaftereverything—andsendupalemon.
Monsieur—Amystery?
Madame—Yes,Monsieur,Ihavealittlesurpriseforyou,andIfancythatitwilldelightyou.
Monsieur—Well,whatisthesurprise?
Madame—Oh!itisarealsurprise.Howcuriousyoulook!youreyesareglitteringalready.SupposeI
werenottotellyouanything?
Monsieur—Thenyouwouldvexmeverymuch.
Madame—There,Idon'twanttovexyou.Youaregoingtohavesomelittlegreenoystersanda
partridge.AmIgood?
Monsieur—Oystersandapartridge!Youareanangel.(Hekissesher.)Anangel.(Aside.)Whaton
earthisthematterwithher?(Aloud.)Haveyouhadvisitorsto-day?
Madame—IsawErnestinethismorning,butsheonlystayedamoment.Shehasjustdischargedher
maid.Wouldyoubelieveit,thatgirlwasseenthenightbeforelastdressedupasaman,andinher
master'sclothes,too!Thatwasgoingtoofar.
Monsieur—Thatcomesofhavingconfidentialservants.AndyoujustgotasightofErnestine?
Madame—Andthatwasquiteenough,too.(Withanexclamation.)HowstupidIam!Iforgot.Ihada
visitfromMadamedeLyraswell.
Monsieur—Godblessher!Butdoesshestilllaughononesideofhermouthtohideherblacktooth?
Madame-Howcruelyouare!Yet,shelikesyouverywell.Poorwoman!Iwasreallytouchedbyher
visit.Shecametoremindmethatwe—nowyouwillbeangry.(Shekisseshimandsitsdownbeside
him.)
Monsieur—Beangry!beangry!I'mnotaTurk.Come,whatisit?
Madame—Come,weshallgotodinner.Youknowthatthereareoystersandapartridge.Iwon'ttell
you—youarealreadyinabadtemper.Besides,Iallbuttoldherthatwearenotgoing.
Monsieur—(raisinghishandsaloft)—Ithoughtso.Sheandhereveningmaygotothedogs.What
haveIdonetothiswomanthatsheshouldsopesterme?
Madame—Butshethinkssheisaffordingyoupleasure.Sheisacharmingfriend.Asforme,Ilikeher
becauseshealwaysspeakswellofyou.Ifyouhadbeenhiddeninthatcabinetduringhervisit,you
couldnothavehelpedblushing.(Heshrugshisshoulders.)"Yourhusbandissoamiable,"shesaidto
me,"socheery,sowitty.Trytobringhim;itisanhonortohavehim."Isaid,"Certainly,"butwithout
meaningit,youknow.ButIdon'tcareaboutitatall.ItisnotsoveryamusingatMadamedeLyr's.She
alwaysinvitessuchanumberofseriouspeople.Nodoubttheyareinfluentialpeople,andmayprove
useful,butwhatdoesthatmattertome?Cometodinner.Youknowthatthereisabottleleftofthat
famousPomard;Ihavekeptitforyourpartridge.YoucannotimaginewhatpleasureIfeelinseeing
youeatapartridge.Youeatitwithsuchagusto.Youareaglutton,mydear.(Shetakeshisarm.)
Come,Icanhearyourrascalofasongettingimpatientinthedining-room.
Monsieur—(withapreoccupiedair)—Hum!andwhenisit?
Madame—Wheniswhat?
Monsieur—Theparty,ofcourse.
Madame—Ah!youmeantheball—Iwasnotthinkingofit.MadamedeLyr'sball.Whydoyouaskme
that,sincewearenotgoing?Letusmakehaste,dinnerisgettingcold....Thisevening.
Monsieur—(stoppingshort)—What!thispartyisaball,andthisballisforthisevening.But,hangit!
peopledon'tinviteyoutoaballlikethat.Theyalwaysgivenoticesometimebeforehand.
Madame—Butshesentusaninvitationaweekago,thoughIdon'tknowwhatbecameofthecard.I
forgottoshowittoyou.
Monsieur—Youforgot!youforgot!
Madame—Well,itisallforthebest;Iknowyouwouldhavebeensulkyalltheweekafter.Cometo
dinner.
Theysatdowntotable.Theclothwaswhite,thecutlerybright,theoystersfresh;thepartridge,
cookedtoperfection,exhaledadelightfulodor.Madamewascharming,andlaughedateverything.
Monsieurunbenthisbrowsandstretchedhimselfonthechair.
Monsieur—ThisPomardisverygood.Won'tyouhavesome,littledear?
Madame—Yes,yourlittledearwill.(Shepushesforwardherglasswithacoquettishmovement.)
Monsieur—Ah!youhaveputonyourLouisSeizering.Itisaveryprettyring.
Madame—(puttingherhandunderherhusband'snose)—Yes;butlook—see,thereisalittlebit
comingoff.
Monsieur—(kissinghiswife'shand)—Whereisthelittlebit?
Madame—(smiling)—Youjestateverything.Iamspeakingseriously.There—look—itisplain
enough!(Theydrawnearonceanotherandbendtheirheadstogethertoseeit.)Don'tyouseeit?(She
pointsoutaspotontheringwitharosyandslenderfinger.)There!doyouseenow—there?
Monsieur—Thatlittlepearlwhich—Whatonearthhaveyoubeenputtingonyourhair,mydear?It
smellsverynice—Youmustsendittothejeweller.Thescentisexquisite.Curlsdon'tbecomeyou
badly.
Madame—Doyouthinkso?(Sheadjustshercoiffurewithherwhitehand.)Ithoughtyouwouldlike
thatscent;now,ifIwereinyourplaceIshould—
Monsieur—Whatwouldyoudoinmyplace,dear?
Madame—Ishould—kissmywife.
Monsieur—(kissingher)—Well,Imustsayyouhaveverybrightideassometimes.Givemealittlebit
morepartridge,please.(Withhismouthfull.)Howprettythesepoorlittlecreatureslookwhen
runningamongthecorn.Youknowthecrytheygivewhenthesunsets?—Alittlegravy.—Thereare
momentswhenthepoeticsideofcountrylifeappealstoone.Andtothinkthattherearebarbarians
whoeatthemwithcabbage.But(fillinghisglass)haveyouagownready?
Madame—(withinnocentastonishment.)—Whatfor,dear?
Monsieur—Why,forMadamedeLyr's—
Madame—Fortheball?—Whatamemoryyouhave—Thereyouarestillthinkingofit—No,Ihave
not—ah!yes,Ihavemytarletan,youknow;butthenawomanneedssolittletomakeupaball-room
toilette.
Monsieur—Andthehairdresser,hashebeensentfor?
Madame—No,hehasnotbeensentfor;butIamnotanxioustogotothisball.Wewillsettledownby
thefireside,readalittle,andgotobedearly.Youremindme,however,that,onleaving,Madamede
Lyrdidsay,"Yourhairdresseristhesameasmine,Iwillsendhimword."HowstupidIam;I
remembernowthatIdidnotanswerher.Butitisnotfar,IcansendMarietotellhimnottocome.
Monsieur—Sincethisblessedhairdresserhasbeentold,lethimcomeandwewillgoand—amuse
ourselvesalittleatMadamedeLyr's.Butononeconditiononly;thatIfindallmydressthingslaid
outinreadinessonmybedwithmygloves,youknow,andthatyoutiemynecktie.
Madame—Abargain.(Shekisseshim.)Youareajewelofahusband.Iamdelighted,mypoordear,
becauseIseeyouareimposingasacrificeuponyourselfinordertopleaseme;since,astotheball
itself,Iamquiteindifferentaboutit.Ididnotcaretogo;reallynowIdon'tcaretogo.
Monsieur—Hum.Well,Iwillgoandsmokeacigarsoasnottobeinyourway,andatteno'clockI
willbebackhere.YourpreparationswillbeoverandinfiveminutesIshallbedressed.Adieu.
Madame—Aurevoir.
Monsieur,afterreachingthestreet,lithiscigarandbuttoneduphisgreat-coat.Twohourstokill.It
seemsatriflewhenoneisbusy,butwhenonehasnothingtodoitisquiteanotherthing.The
pavementisslippery,rainisbeginningtofall—fortunatelythePalaisRoyalisnotfaroff.Attheend
ofhisfourteenthtourroundthearcades,Monsieurlooksathiswatch.Fiveminutestoten,hewillbe
late.Herusheshome.
Inthecourtyardthecarriageisstandingwaiting.
Inthebedroomtwounshadedlampsshedfloodsoflight.Mountainsofmuslinandribbonsarepiled
onthebedandthefurniture.Dresses,skirts,petticoats,andunderpetticoats,lace,scarfs,flowers,
jewels,aremingledinacharmingchaos.Onthetabletherearepotsofpomade,sticksofcosmetic,
hairpins,combsandbrushes,allcarefullysetout.Twoartificialplaitsstretchthemselves
languishinglyuponadarkmassnotunlikealargehandfulofhorsehair.Agoldenhairnet,combsof
paletortoise-shellandbrightcoral,clustersofroses,spraysofwhitelilac,bouquetsofpaleviolets,
awaitthechoiceoftheartistorthecapriceofthebeauty.Andyet,mustIsayit?amidstthisluxuryof
wealthMadame'shairisundressed,Madameisuneasy,Madameisfurious.
Monsieur—(lookingathiswatch)—Well,mydear,isyourhairdressed?
Madame—(impatiently)—Heasksmewhethermyhairisdressed?Don'tyouseethatIhavebeen
waitingforthehairdresserforanhourandahalf?Can'tyouseethatIamfurious,forhewon'tcome,
thehorridwretch?
Monsieur—Themonster!
Madame—Yes,themonster;andIwouldadviseyounottojokeaboutit.
Thereisaring.Thedooropensandthelady's-maidexclaims,"Itishe,
Madame!"
Madame—Itishe!
Monsieur—Itishe!
Theartistentershurriedlyandbowswhileturninghissleevesup.
Madame—MydearSilvani,thisisunbearable.
Silvani—Verysorry,very,butcouldnotcomeanysooner.Ihavebeendressinghairsincethree
o'clockintheafternoon.IhavejustlefttheDuchessedeW.,whoisgoingtotheMinistrythisevening.
Shesentmehomeinherbrougham.Lisette,givemeyourmistress'scombs,andputthecurling-tongs
inthefire.
Madame—But,mydearSilvani,mymaid'snameisnotLisette.
Silvani—Youwillunderstand,Madame,thatifIhadtorememberthenamesofallthelady's-maids
whohelpme,Ishouldneedsixclerksinsteadoffour.Lisetteisaprettynamewhichsuitsallthese
youngladiesverywell.Lisette,showmeyourmistress'sdress.Good.Istheballanofficialone?
Madame—Butdressmyhair,Silvani.
Silvani—Itisimpossibleformetodressyourhair,Madame,unlessIknowthecircleinwhichthe
coiffurewillbeworn.(Tothehusband,seatedinthecorner.)MayIbegyou,Monsieur,totake
anotherplace?Iwishtobeabletostepback,thebettertojudgetheeffect.
Monsieur—Certainly,MonsieurSilvani,onlytoohappytobeagreeabletoyou.(Hesitsdownona
chair.)
Madame—(hastily)—Notthere,mydear,youwillrumplemyskirt.(Thehusbandgetsupandlooks
foranotherseat.)Takecarebehindyou,youaresteppingonmybustle.
Monsieur—(turningroundangrily)—Herbustle!herbustle!
Madame—Nowyougoupsettingmypins.
Silvani—MayIbegamomentofimmobility,Madame?
Monsieur—Come,calmyourself,Iwillgointothedrawing-room;isthereafirethere?
Madame—(inattentively)—But,mydear,howcanyouexpectafiretobeinthedrawing-room?
Monsieur—Iwillgotomystudy,then.
Madame—Thereisnonethere,either.Whatdoyouwantafireinyourstudyfor?Whatasingular
idea!Highup,youknow,Silvani,andadashofdisorder,itisalltherage.
Silvani—Wouldyouallowatouchofbrownundertheeyes?Thatwouldenablemetoidealizethe
coiffure.
Monsieur—(impatiently)—Marie,givememytop-coatandmycap.Iwillwalkupanddowninthe
anteroom.(Aside.)MadamedeLyrshallpayforthis.
Silvani—(crimping)—Ileaveyourearuncovered,Madame;itwouldbeasintoveilit.Itislikethat
ofthePrincessedeK.,whosehairIdressedyesterday.Lisette,getthepowderready.Earslikeyours,
Madame,arenotnumerous.
Madame—Youweresaying—
Silvani—Wouldyourear,Madame,besomodestasnottolisten?
Madame'shairisatlengthdressed.Silvanishedsalightcloudofscentedpowderoverhiswork,on
whichhecastsalingeringlookofsatisfaction,thenbowsandretires.
Inpassingthroughtheanteroom,herunsagainstMonsieur,whoiswalkingupanddown.
Silvani—Athousandpardons,Ihavethehonortowishyougoodnight.
Monsieur—(fromthedepthsofhisturned-upcollar)Good-night.
Aquarterofanhourlaterthesoundofacarriageisheard.Madameisready,hercoiffuresuitsher,
shesmilesatherselfintheglassassheslipstheglove-stretchersintothetwelve-buttongloves.
Monsieurhasmadeafailureofhisnecktieandbrokenoffthreebuttons.
Tracesofdecidedill-humorarestampedonhisfeatures.
Monsieur—Come,letusgodown,thecarriageiswaiting;itisaquarterpasteleven.(Aside.)Another
sleeplessnight.Sharp,coachman;RuedelaPepiniere,number224.
Theyreachthestreetinquestion.TheRuedelaPepiniereisinatumult.Policemenarehurriedly
makingwaythroughthecrowd.Inthedistance,confusedcriesandarapidlyapproaching,rumbling
soundareheard.Monsieurthrustshisheadoutofthewindow.
Monsieur—Whatisit,Jean?
Coachman—Afire,Monsieur;herecomethefiremen.
Monsieur—Goonallthesametonumber224.
Coachman—Wearethere,Monsieur;thefireisatnumber224.
DoorkeeperoftheHouse—(quittingagroupofpeopleandapproachingthecarriage)—Youare,I
presume,Monsieur,oneoftheguestsofMadamedeLyr?Sheisterror-stricken;thefireisinher
rooms.Shecannotreceiveanyone.
Madame—(excitedly)—Itisscandalous.
Monsieur—(humming)—Heart-breaking,heartbreaking!(Tothecoachman.)Homeagain,quickly;I
amallbutasleep.(Hestretcheshimselfoutandturnsuphiscollar.)(Aside.)Afterall,Iamthebetter
forawell-cookedpartridge.
CHAPTERXVI
AFALSEALARM
EverytimeIvisitParis,which,unhappily,istoooften,itrainsintorrents.Itmakesnodifference
whetherIchangethetimeofstartingfromthatwhichIhadfixeduponatfirst,stopontheway,travel
atnight,resort,inshort,toathousanddevicestodeceivethebarometer-attenleaguesfromParisthe
cloudsbegintopileupandIgetoutofthetrainamidstageneraldeluge.
OntheoccasionofmylastvisitIfoundmyselfasusualinthestreet,followedbyastreetporter
carryingmyluggageandaddressingdespairingsignalstoallthecabstrottingquicklypastamidthe
drivingrain.Aftertenminutesoffutileeffortsadriver,moresensiblethantheothers,andhiddenin
histriplecape,checkshishorses.WithasingleboundIambesidethecab,andopening,thedoorwith
akindoffrenzy,jumpin.
Unfortunately,whileIamaccomplishingallthisononeside,agentleman,similarlycircumstanced,
openstheotherdoorandalsojumpsin.Itiseasytounderstandthatthereensuesacollision.
"Deviltakeyou!"saidmyrival,apparentlyinclinedtopushstillfartherforward.
Iwasabouttoanswerhim,andprettysharply,too,forIhailfromthesouthofFranceandamrather
hotheaded,whenoureyesmet.Welookedoneanotherinthefaceliketwolionsoverasinglesheep,
andsuddenlywebothburstoutlaughing.ThisangrygentlemanwasOscarV.,thatdeargoodfellow
Oscar,whomIhadnotseenfortenyears,andwhoisaveryoldfriendofmine,acharmingfellow
whomIusedtoplaywithasaboy.
Weembraced,andthedriver,whowaslookingatusthroughthewindow,shruggedhisshoulders,
unabletounderstanditall.Thetwoporters,drippingwithwater,stood,oneateachdoor,withatrunk
onhisshoulder.WehadtheluggageputonthecabanddroveofftotheHotelduLouvre,whereOscar
insistedondroppingme.
"Butyouaretravelling,too,then?"saidItomyfriend,afterthefirstmomentsofexpansion."Don't
youliveinParis?"
"IliveinitaslittleaspossibleandhavejustcomeupfromLesRoches,anold-fashionedlittleplaceI
inheritedfrommyfather,atwhichIpassagreatdealoftheyear.Oh!itisnotachateau;itisrustic,
countrified,butIlikeit,andwouldnotchangeanythingaboutit.Thecountryaroundisfreshand
green,aclearlittleriverflowspastaboutfortyyardsfromthehouse,amidthetrees;thereisamillin
thebackground,aspreadingvalley,asteepleanditsweather-cockonthehorizon,flowersunderthe
windows,andhappinessinthehouse.CanIgrumble?Mywifemakesexquisitepastry,whichisvery
agreeabletomeandhelpstowhitenherhands.Bytheway,IdidnottellyouthatIammarried.My
dearfellow,Icameacrossanangel,andIrightlythoughtthatifIletherslipIshouldnotfindher
equal.Ididwisely.ButIwanttointroduceyoutomywifeandtoshowyoumylittleplace.Whenwill
youcomeandseeme?ItisthreehoursfromParis—timetosmokeacoupleofcigars.Itissettled,
then—Iamgoingbackto-morrowmorningandIwillhavearoomreadyforyou.Givemeyourcard
andIwillwritedownmyaddressonit."
AllthiswassaidsocordiallythatIcouldnotresistmyfriend'sinvitation,andpromisedtovisithim.
Threeorfourdayslater,Parisbeingemptyandtherecollectionofmyoldcompanionhauntingme,I
feltastrongdesiretotakeapeepathisconjugalfelicityandtoseewithmyowneyesthisstream,this
mill,thissteeple,besideallwhichhewassohappy.
IreachedLesRochesataboutsixintheeveningandwascharmedattheveryfirstglance.Oscar's
residencewasalittleLouisQuinzechateauburiedinthetrees;irregularlybuilt,butcharmingly
picturesque.Ithadbeenleftunalteredforacenturyatleast,andeverything,fromtheblackened
mansardroofswiththeirrococoweather-cocks,tothebaywindowswiththeirtinysquaresofglass
andthefantasticescutcheonoverthedoor,wasinkeeping.Overthethicktilesofthesomewhat
sunkenroof,therough-barkedoldchestnutslazilystretchedtheirbranches.Creepersandclimbing
roseswantonedoverthefront,framingthewindows,peepingintothegarrets,andclingingtothe
waterspouts,ladenwithlargebunchesofflowerswhichswayedgentlyintheair.Amidallthese
pointedroofsandthisprofusionofverdureandtreestheblueskycouldonlybecaughtaglimpseof
hereandthere.
ThefirstpersonIsawwasOscar,cladinwhitefromheadtofoot,andwearingastrawhat.Hewas
seatedonanenormousblockofstonewhichseemedpartandparcelofthehouse,andappearedvery
muchinterestedinafinemelonwhichhisgardenerhadjustbroughttohim.Nosoonerhadhecaught
sightofmethanhedartedforwardandgraspedmebythehandwithsuchanexpressionofgoodhumorandaffectionthatIsaidtomyself,"Yes,certainlyhewasnotdeceivingme,heishappy."I
foundhimjustasIhadknownhiminhisyouth,lively,ratherwild,butkindandobliging.
"Pierre,"saidhetothegardener,"takethisgentleman'sportmanteautothelowerroom,"and,asthe
gardenerbestirredhimselfslowlyandwithaneffort,Oscarseizedtheportmanteauandswungit,with
ajerk,ontotheshouldersofthepoorfellow,whoselegsbentundertheweight.
"Lazybones,"saidOscar,laughingheartily."Ah!nowImustintroduceyoutomylittlequeen.My
wife,whereismywife?"
Herantothebellandpulledittwice.Atonceafatcookwitharedfaceandtucked-upsleeves,and
behindheraman-servantwipingaplate,appearedattheground-floorwindows.Hadtheybeen
chosenonpurpose?Idonotknow,buttheirfacesandbearingharmonizedsothoroughlywiththe
picturethatIcouldnothelpsmiling.
"Whereisyourmistress?"askedOscar,andastheydidnotanswerquicklyenoughheexclaimed,
"Marie,Marie,hereismyfriendGeorge."
Ayounggirl,fairasalily,appearedatanarrow,littlewindow,theonemostgarlandedby,flowers,
onthefirstfloor.Shewascladinawhitedressing-gownofsomeparticularshape;Icouldnotatfirst
makeout.Withonehandshegathereditsfoldsabouther,andwiththeotherrestrainedherflowing
hair.Hardlyhadsheseenmewhensheblushed,somewhatashamed,nodoubt,athavingbeen
surprisedinthemidstofhertoilet,and,givingamostembarrassedyetcharmingbow;hurriedly
disappeared.Thisvisioncompletedthecharm;itseemedtomethatIhadsuddenlybeentransported
intofairy-land.IhadfanciedwhenstrappingmyportmanteauthatIshouldfindmyfriendOscar
installedinoneofthosepretty,little,smart-lookinghouses,withgreenshuttersandgiltlightningconductor,deartothecountrifiedParisian,andhereIfoundmyselfamidanidealblendingoftime-
wornstoneshiddeninflowers,ancientgables,andfancifulironworkreddenedbyrust.Iwasrightin
themidstofoneofMorin'ssketches,and,charmedandstupefied,Istoodforsomemomentswithmy
eyesfixedonthenarrowwindowatwhichthefairgirlhaddisappeared.
"Icallhermylittlequeen,"saidOscar,takingmyarm."Itismywife.Comethisway,weshallmeet
mycousinwhoisfishing,andtwootherfriendswhoarestrollingaboutinthisdirection,good
fellows,onlytheydonotunderstandthecountryasIdo—theyhaveonsilkstockingsandpumps,but
itdoesnotmatter,doesit?Wouldyoulikeapairofslippersorastrawhat?
Ihopeyouhavebroughtsomelinenjackets.Iwon'tofferyouaglassofMadeira—weshalldineat
once.Ah!mydearfellow,youhaveturnedupattherightmoment;wearegoingtotastethefirst
melonoftheyearthisevening."
"Unfortunately,Inevereatmelons,thoughIliketoseeothersdoso."
"Well,then,IwillofferyouconsolationbyseekingoutabottleofmyoldPomardforyou.Between
ourselves,Idon'tgiveittoeveryone;itisacapitalwinewhichmypoorfatherrecommendedtome
onhisdeathbed;poorfather,hiseyeswereclosed,andhisheadstretchedbackonthepillow.Iwas
sittingbesidehisbed,myhandinhis,whenIfeltitfeeblypressed.Hiseyeshalfopened,andIsaw
himsmile.Thenhesaidinaweak,slow,andthequaveringvoiceofanoldmanwhoisdying:'The
Pomardatthefartherend—ontheleft—youknow,myboy—onlyforfriends.'Hepressedmyhand
again,and,asifexhausted,closedhiseyes,thoughIcouldseebytheimperceptiblemotionofhislips
thathewasstillsmilinginwardly.Comewithmetothecellar,"continuedOscar,afterabriefsilence,
"atthefartherendtotheleft,youshallholdthelanternforme."
Whenwecameupfromthecellar,thebellwasringingfuriously,andflocksofstartledbirdswere
flyingoutofthechestnut-trees.Itwasfordinner.Alltheguestswereinthegarden.Oscarintroduced
meinhisoff-handway,andIofferedmyarmtothemistressofthehousetoconducthertothe
dining-room.
Onexaminingmyfriend'swife,Isawthatmyfirstimpressionhadnotbeenerroneous—shewas
literallyalittleangel,andalittleangelintheshapeofawoman,whichisallthebetter.Shewas
delicate,slenderasayounggirl;hervoicewasasthrillingandharmoniousasthechaffinch,withan
indefinableaccentthatsmackedofnopartofthecountryinparticular,butlentacharmtoherslightest
word.Shehad,moreover,awayofspeakingofherown,achildishandcoquettishwayofmodulating
theendsofhersentencesandturninghereyestowardherhusband,asiftoseekforhisapprobation.
Sheblushedeverymoment,butatthesametimehersmilewassobewitchingandherteethsowhite
thatsheseemedtobelaughingatherself.Acharminglittlewoman!Addtothisastrangeyettasteful
toilette,ratherdaring,perhaps,butsuitingthislittlequeen,sosingularinherself.Herbeautifulfair
hair,twistedupapparentlyathazard,wasfixedratherhighupontheheadbyasteelcombworn
somewhatononeside;andherwhitemuslindresstrimmedwithwide,flatruches,cutsquareatthe
neck,shortintheskirt,andloopedupallround,hadadeliciouseighteenth-centuryappearance.The
angelwascertainlyatriflecoquettish,butinherownway,andyetherwaywasexquisite.
HardlywereweseatedattablewhenOscarthrewtowardhislittlequeenarapidglance,butonesofull
ofhappinessand-whyshouldInotsayit?—lovethatIexperiencedakindofshiver,athrillofenvy,
astonishment,andadmiration,perhaps.Hetookfromthebasketofflowersonthetablearedrose,
scarcelyopened,and,pushingittowardher,saidwithasmile:
"Foryourhair,Madame."
Thefairgirlblusheddeeply,tooktheflower,and,withouthesitation,quicklyanddexterouslystuckit
inherhair,highupontheleft,justintherightspot,and,delightedlyturningroundtoeachofus,
repeatedseveraltimes,amidburstsoflaughter,"Isitrightlikethat?"
Thenshewaftedatinykisswiththetipsofherfingerstoherhusband,asachildoftwelvewouldhave
done,andgaylyplungedherspoonintothesoup,turningupherlittlefingerasshedidso.
Theotherguestshadnothingveryremarkableaboutthem;theylaughedverygood-naturedlyatthese
childishways,butseemedsomewhatoutofplaceamidallthischarmingfreedomfromrestraint.The
cousin,aboveall,theangler,withhiswhitewaistcoat,hisbluetie,hisfullbeard,andhisalmondeyes,
especiallydispleasedme.Herolledhisr'slikeanactoratacountrytheatre.Hebrokehisbreadinto
littlebitsandnibbledthemashetalked.Idivinedthatthepleasureofshowingoffalargeringhewore
hadsomethingtodowiththisfancyforplayingwithhisbread.OnceortwiceIcaughtaglanceof
melancholyturnedtowardthemistressofthehouse,butatfirstIdidnottakemuchnoticeofit,my
attentionbeingattractedbythebrilliantgayetyofOscar.
Itseemedtome,however,attheendofaminuteorso,thatthisyoungmanwasstrivinginathousand
waystoengagetheattentionofthelittlequeen.
Thelatter,however,answeredhiminthemostnaturalwayintheworld,neitherbetrayingconstraint
norembarrassment.Iwasmistaken,nodoubt.Haveyouevernoticed,whenyouaresuddenlybrought
intothemidstofacirclewhereyouareunacquainted,howcertainlittledetails,mattersof
indifferencetoeveryoneelse,assumeimportanceinyoureyes?Thefirstimpressionisbasedupona
numberoftriflesthatcatchyourattentionattheoutset.Astainintheceiling,anailinthewall,a
featureofyourneighbor'scountenanceimpressesitselfuponyourmind,installsitselfthere,assumes
importance,and,inspiteofyourself,alltheotherobservationssubsequentlymadebyyougroup
aroundthisspot,thisnail,thisgrimace.Thinkoverit,dearreader,andyouwillseethateveryopinion
youmayhaveastoafact,aperson,oranobjecthasbeensensiblyinfluencedbytherecollectionof
thelittletriflethatcaughtyoureyeatthefirstglance.Whatyounggirlvictimoffirstimpressionshas
notrefusedoneortwohusbandsonaccountofawaistcoattooloose,acravatbadlytied,an
inopportunesneeze,afoolishsmile,oraboottoopointedatthetoe?
Onedoesnotlikeadmittingtoone'sselfthatsuchtriflescanserveasabasetotheopiniononehasof
anyone,andonemustseekattentivelyinordertodiscoverwithinone'smindtheseunacknowledged
germs.
IrecollectquitewellthatthefirsttimeIhadthehonorofcallingonMadamedeM.,Inoticedthatone
ofherteeth,thefirstmolarontheright,wasquiteblack.Ionlycaughtaglimpseofthelittleblack
monster,suchwasthecaretakentohideit,yetIcouldnotgetthisdiscoveryoutofmyhead.Isoon
noticedthatMadamedeM.madefrightfulgrimacestohidehertooth,andthatshetookonlythe
smallestpossiblemouthfulsattabletosparethenervoussusceptibilitiesofthelittlemonster.
IarrivedatthepitchofaccountingforallthementalandphysicalpeculiaritiesofMadamedeM.by
thepresenceofthisslightblemish,anddespitemyselfthisblacktoothpersonifiedtheCountessso
wellthatevennow,althoughithasbeenreplacedbyanothermagnificentone,twiceasbigandas
whiteasthebottomofaplate,evennow,Isay,MadamedeM.cannotopenhermouthwithoutmy
lookingnaturallyatit.
Buttoreturntooursubject.Amidallthisconjugalhappiness,sodelightfullysurrounded,facetoface
withdearoldOscar,sogood,soconfiding,somuchinlovewiththislittlecherubinaLouisXV
dress,whocarriedgraceandnaivetetosostrangeapitch,Ihadbeenstruckbythetoowellcombed
andfoppishheadofthecousininthewhitewaistcoat.Thisheadhadattractedmyattentionlikethe
stainontheceilingofwhichIspokejustnow,liketheCountess'sblacktooth,anddespitemyselfIdid
nottakemyeyesofftheanglerashepassedthesilverbladeofhisknifethroughasliceofthat
indigestiblefruitwhichIliketoseeontheplatesofothers,butcannottolerateonmyown.
Afterdinner,whichlastedaverylongtime,wewentintothegarden,wherecoffeehadbeenserved,
andstretchedourselvesoutbeatifically,cigarinmouth.Allwascalmandsilentaboutus,theinsects
hadceasedtheirmusic,andinanopalineskylittlevioletcloudsweresleeping.
Oscar,withahappyair,pointedouttomethefamousmill,thequietvalley,andfartheronhisloved
stream,inwhichthesun,beforesetting,wasreflectingitselfamidthereeds.Meanwhilethelittle
queenonherhighheelsflittedroundthecupslikeachildplayingatparty-giving,andwithathousand
charmingtouchespouredouttheboilingcoffee,theodorofwhichblendeddeliciouslywiththe
perfumeoftheflowers,thehay,andthewoods.
Whenshehadfinishedshesatdownbesideherhusband,soclosethatherskirthalfhidmyfriend,and
unceremoniouslytakingthecigarfromhislips,helditatadistance,withalittlepout,thatmeant,"Oh,
thehorridthing!"andknockedoffwithherlittlefingertheashwhichfellonthegravel.Thenshe
brokeintoalaugh,andputthecigarbackbetweenthelipsofherhusbandheldouttoher.
Itwascharming.Oscarwasnodoubtaccustomedtothis,forhedidnotseemastonished,butplaced
hishandonhiswife'sshoulder,asonewoulduponachild's,and,kissingherontheforehead,said,
"Thanks,mydear."
"Yes,butyouareonlymakingfunofme,"saidtheyoungwife,inawhisper,leaningherheadagainst
herhusband'sarm.
Icouldnothelpsmiling,therewassomuchcoaxingchildishnessandgraceinthislittlewhispered
sentence.IdonotknowwhyIturnedtowardthecousinwhohadremainedalittleapart,smokingin
silence.Heseemedtomeratherpale;hetookthreeorfoursuddenpuffs,rosesuddenlyunderthe
evidentinfluenceofsomemoraldiscomfort,andwalkedawaybeneaththetrees.
"Whatisthematterwithcousin?"saidOscar,withsomeinterest.
"Whatailshim?"
"Idon'tknow,"answeredthelittlequeen,inthemostnaturalmannerintheworld,"someideaabout
fishing,nodoubt."
Nightbegantofall;wehadremainedasIhavesaidalongtimeattable.Itwasaboutnineo'clock.The
cousinreturnedandtooktheseathehadoccupiedbefore,butfromthismomentitseemedtomethata
strangeconstraintcreptinamongus,asingularcoolnessshoweditself.Thetalk,solivelyatfirst,
slackenedgraduallyand,despiteallmyeffortstoimpartalittlelifetoit,draggedwretchedly.Imyself
didnotfeelverybright;Iwashauntedbythemostabsurdnotionsintheworld;IthoughtIhad
detectedinthesuddendepartureofthecousin,inhispallor,inhisembarrassedmovements,the
expressionofsomestrongfeelingwhichhehadbeenpowerlesstohide.Buthowwasitthatthat
adorablelittlewomanwithsuchakeenintelligentlookdidnotunderstandallthis,sinceIunderstood
itmyself?HadnotOscar,howeverconfidinghemightbe,notedthatthedepartureofthecousin
exactlycoincidedwiththekisshehadgivenhiswife?Werethesetwoblind,ordidtheypretendnotto
see,orwasImyselfthevictimofanillusion?However,conversationhaddiedaway;themistressof
thehouse,singularsymptom,wassilentandserious,andOscarwriggledinhischair,likeamanwho
isnotaltogetheratease.Whatwaspassingintheirminds?
Soonweheardtheclockinthedrawing-roomstriketen,andOscar,suddenlyrising,said:"Mydear
fellow,inthecountryitisLibertyHall,youknow;soIwillaskyourpermissiontogoin—Iamrather
tiredthisevening.George,"headdedtome,"theywillshowyouyourroom;itisontheground
floor;Ihopethatyouwillbecomfortablethere."
Everybodygotupsilently,and,afterbiddingoneanothergood-nightinasomewhatconstrained
manner,soughttheirrespectiverooms.Ithought,Imustacknowledge,thattheywenttobedrathertoo
earlyatmyfriend's.Ihadnowishtosleep;Ithereforeexaminedmyroom,whichwascharming.It
wascompletelyhungwithanoldfiguredtapestryframedingraywainscot.Thebed,drapedindimity
curtains,wasturneddownandexhaledthatodoroffreshlywashedlinenwhichinvitesonetostretch
one'sselfinit.Onthetable,alittlegemdatingfromthebeginningofthereignofLouisXVI,were
fourorfivebooks,evidentlychosenbyOscarandplacedthereforme.Theselittleattentionstouch
one,andnaturallymythoughtsrecurredtothedearfellow,tothestrangeincidentoftheevening,to
thevexationsandtortureshidden,,perhaps,bythisapparenthappiness.Iwasridiculousthatnight—I
alreadypitiedhim,mypoorfriend.
Ifeltquitetouched,and,fullofmelancholy,wentandleanedagainstthesilloftheopenwindow.The
moonhadjustrisen,theskywasbeautifullyclear,whiffsofdeliciousperfumesassailedmynostrils.I
sawintheshadowofthetreesglowwormssparklingonthegrass,and,inthemassesofverdurelitup
mysteriouslybythemoon,Itracedstrangeshapesoffantasticmonsters.Therewas,aboveall,alittle
pointedroofsurmountedbyaweathercock,buriedinthetreesataboutfiftypacesfrommywindow,
whichgreatlyinterestedme.Icouldnotintheobscuritymakeouteitherdoororwindowsbelonging
tothissingulartower.Wasitanoldpigeon-house,atomb,adesertedsummer-house?Icouldnottell,
butitslittlepointedroof,witharounddormerwindow,wasextremelygraceful.Wasitchanceoran
artistlulloftastethathadcoveredthistowerwithcreepersandflowers,andsurroundeditwith
foliageinsuchcapriciousfashionthatitseemedtobehidingitselfinordertocatchallglances?Iwas
gazingatallthiswhenIheardafaintnoiseintheshrubbery.IlookedinthatdirectionandIsaw—
really,itwasananxiousmoment—Isawaphantomcladinawhiterobeandwalkingwithmysterious
andagitatedrapidity.Ataturningofthepaththemoonshoneonthisphantom.Doubtwasimpossible;
Ihadbeforemyeyesmyfriend'swife.HergaitnolongerhadthatcoquettisheasewhichIhad
noticed,butclearlyindicatedtheagitationduetosomestrongemotion.
Istrovetobanishthehorriblesuspicionwhichsuddenlyforceditselfintomymind."No,"Isaidto
myself,"somuchinnocenceandbeautycannotbecapableofdeception;nodoubtshehasforgotten
herfanorherembroidery,ononeofthebenchesthere."Butinsteadofmakingherwaytowardthe
benchesInoticedontheright,theyoungwifeturnedtotheleft,andsoondisappearedintheshadow
ofthegroveinwhichwashiddenthemysteriousturret.
Myheartached."Whereisshegoing,thehaplesswoman?"Iexclaimedtomyself."Atanyrate,Iwill
notletherimagineanyoneiswatchingher."AndIhurriedlyblewoutmycandle.Iwantedtoclose
mywindow,gotobed,andseenothingmore,butaninvinciblecuriositytookmebacktothewindow.
IhadonlybeenthereafewminuteswhenIplainlydistinguishedhaltingandtimidfootstepsonthe
gravel.Icouldseenooneatfirst,buttherewasnodoubtthatthefootstepswerethoseofaman.Isoon
hadaproofthatIwasnotmistaken;theelongatedoutlineofthecousinshowedupclearlyagainstthe
darkmassofshrubbery.Ishouldhavelikedtohavestoppedhim,thewretch,forhisintentionwas
evident;hewasmakinghiswaytowardthethicketinwhichthelittlequeenhaddisappeared.Ishould
havelikedtoshouttohim,"Youareavillain;youshallgonofarther."ButhadIreallyanyrighttoact
thus?Iwassilent,butIcoughed,however,loudenoughtobeheardbyhim.
Hesuddenlypausedinhisuneasywalk,lookedroundonallsideswithvisibleanxiety,then,seizedby
Iknownotwhatimpulse,dartedtowardthepavilion.Iwasoverwhelmed.WhatoughtItodo?Warn
myfriend,mychildhood'scompanion?Yes,nodoubt,butIfeltashamedtopourdespairintothemind
ofthisgoodfellowandtocauseahorribleexposure."Ifhecanbekeptinignorance,"Isaidto
myself,"andthenperhapsIamwrong—whoknows?Perhapsthisrendezvousisduetothemost
naturalmotivepossible."
Iwasseekingtodeceivemyself,toveiltheevidenceofmyowneyes,whensuddenlyoneofthehouse
doorsopenednoisily,andOscar—Oscarhimself,inallthedisorderofnightattire,hishairrumpled,
andhisdressing-gownfloatingloosely,passedbeforemywindow.Heranratherthanwalked;butthe
anguishofhisheartwastooplainlyrevealedinthestrangenessofhismovements.Heknewall.Ifelt
thatamishapwasinevitable."Beholdtheoutcomeofallhishappiness,beholdthebitterpoison
enclosedinsofairavessel!"Allthesethoughtsshotthroughmymindlikearrows.Itwasnecessary
abovealltodelaytheexplosion,wereitonlyforamoment,asecond,and,besidemyself,without
givingmyselftimetothinkofwhatIwasgoingtosaytohim,Icriedinasharpimperativetone:
"Oscar,comehere;Iwanttospeaktoyou."
Hestoppedasifpetrified.Hewasghastlypale,and,withaninfernalsmile,replied,"Ihavenotimelateron."
"Oscar,youmust,Ibegofyou—youaremistaken."
Atthesewordshebrokeintoafearfullaugh.
"Mistaken—mistaken!"
Andherantowardthepavilion.
Seizingtheskirtofhisdressing-gown,Iheldhimtightly,exclaiming:
"Don'tgo,mydearfellow,don'tgo;Ibegofyouonmykneesnottogo."
Bywayofreplyhegavemeahardblowonthearmwithhisfist,exclaiming:
"Whatthedevilisthematterwithyou?"
"Itellyouthatyoucannotgothere,Oscar,"Isaid,inavoicewhichadmittedofnocontradiction.
"Thenwhydidnotyoutellmeatonce."
Andfeverishlysnatchinghisdressing-gownfrommygrasp,hebegantowalkfranticallyupand
down.
CHAPTERXVII
ISUPWITHMYWIFE
Thatevening,whichchancedtobeChristmasEve,itwasinfernallycold.Thesnowwasfallingin
heavyflakes,and,drivenbythewind,beatfuriouslyagainstthewindowpanes.Thedistantchimingof
thebellscouldjustbeheardthroughthisheavyandwoollyatmosphere.Foot-passengers,wrappedin
theircloaks,slippedrapidlyalong,keepingclosetothehouseandbendingtheirheadstothewintry
blast.
Envelopedinmydressing-gown,andtappingwithmyfingersonthewindow-panes,Iwassmilingat
thehalf-frozenpassers-by,thenorthwind,andthesnow,withthecontentedlookofamanwhoisina
warmroomandhasonhisfeetcomfortableflannel-linedslippers,thesolesofwhichareburiedina
thickcarpet.Atthefiresidemywifewascuttingoutsomethingandsmilingatmefromtimetotime;a
newbookawaitedmeonthemantelpiece,andthelogonthehearthkeptshootingoutwithahissing
soundthoselittleblueflameswhichinviteonetopokeit.
"Thereisnothingthatlooksmoredismalthanamantrampingthroughthesnow,isthere?"saidIto
mywife.
"Hush,"saidshe,loweringthescissorswhichsheheldinherhand;and,aftersmoothingherchinwith
herfingers,slender,rosy,andplumpattheirtips,shewentonexaminingthepiecesofstuffshehad
cutout.
"Isaythatitisridiculoustogooutinthecoldwhenitissoeasytoremainathomeatone'sown
fireside."
"Hush."
"Butwhatareyoudoingthatissoimportant?"
"I—Iamcuttingoutapairofbracesforyou,"andshesettoworkagain.But,asincuttingoutshekept
herheadbent,Inoticed,onpassingbehindher,hersoft,whiteneck,whichshehadleftbarethat
eveningbydressingherhairhigherthanusual.Anumberoflittledownyhairswerecurlingthere.
Thiskindofdownmademethinkofthoseripepeachesonebitessogreedily.Idrewnear,thebetterto
see,andIkissedthebackofmywife'sneck.
"Monsieur!"saidLouise,suddenlyturninground.
"Madame,"Ireplied,andwebothburstoutlaughing.
"ChristmasEve,"saidI.
"Doyouwishtoexcuseyourselfandtogoout?"
"Doyoumeantocomplain?"
"Yes,IcomplainthatyouarenotsufficientlyimpressedbythefactofitsbeingChristmasEve.The
ding-ding-dongofthebellsofNotreDamefailstomoveyou;andjustnowwhenthemagic-lantern
passedbeneaththewindow,Ilookedatyouwhilepretendingtowork,andyouwerequitecalm."
"Iremaincalmwhenthemagic-lanternisgoingby!Ah!mydear,youareverysevereonme,and
really—"
"Yes,yes,jestaboutit,butitwasnonethelesstruethattherecollectionsofyourchildhoodhave
failed."
"Now,mydear,doyouwantmetoleavemybootsoutonthehearththiseveningongoingtobed?Do
youwantmetocallinthemagic-lanternman,andtolookoutabigsheetandacandleendforhim,as
mypoormotherusedtodo?Icanstillseeherassheusedtoentrustherwhitesheettohim.'Don't
makeaholeinit,atleast,'shewouldsay.Howweusedtoclapourhandsinthemysteriousdarkness!I
canrecallallthosejoys,mydear,butyouknowsomanyotherthingshavehappenedsincethen.Other
pleasureshaveeffacedthose."
"Yes,Icanunderstand,yourbachelorpleasures;and,there,IamsurethatthisChristmasEveisthe
firstyouhavepassedbyyourownfireside,inyourdressing-gown,withoutsupper;foryouusedto
suponChristmasEve."
"Tosup,tosup."
"Yes,yousupped;Iwillwageryoudid."
"Ihavesuppedtwoorthreetimes,perhaps,withfriends,youknow;twosous'worthofroasted
chestnutsand—"
"Aglassofsugarandwater."
"Oh,prettynearlyso.Itwasallverysimple;asfarasIcanrecollect.Wechattedalittleandwentto
bed."
"Andhesaysthatwithoutasmile.Youhaveneverbreathedawordtomeofallthesesimple
pleasures."
"But,mydear,allthatIamtellingyouisstrictlytrue.Irememberthatonce,however,itwasrather
lively.ItwasatErnest's,andwehadsomemusic.Willyoupushthatlogtowardme?But,nevermind;
itwillsoonbemidnight,andthatisthehourwhenreasonablepeople—"
Louise,risingandthrowingherarmsaroundmyneck,interruptedmewith:"Well,Idon'twanttobe
reasonable,Iwanttowipeoutallyourmemoriesofchestnutsandglassesofsugarandwater."
Thenpushingmeintomydressing-roomshelockedthedoor.
"But,mydear,whatisthematterwithyou?"saidIthroughthekeyhole.
"Iwanttenminutes,nomore.Yournewspaperisonthemantelpiece;youhavenotreaditthisevening.
Therearesomematchesinthecorner."
Iheardaclatterofcrockery,arustlingofsilkmywifemad?
Louisesooncameandopenedthedoor.
"Don'tscoldmeforhavingshutyouup,"shesaid,kissingme."LookhowIhavebeautifiedmyself?
Doyourecognizethecoiffureyouaresofondof,thechignonhigh,andtheneckbare?Onlyasmy
poorneckisexcessivelytimid,itwouldhaveneverconsentedtoshowitselfthusifIhadnot
encourageditalittlebywearingmydresslow.Andthenonemustputonfulluniformtosupwiththe
authorities."
"Tosup?"
"Certainly,tosupwithyou;don'tyouseemyilluminationsandthistablecoveredwithflowersanda
heapofgoodthings?Ihadgotitallreadyinthealcove;butyouunderstandthattorollthetableupto
thefireandmakealittletoilette,Iwantedtobealone.Come,Monsieur,takeyourplaceattable.Iam
ashungryasahunter.MayIofferyouawingofcoldchicken?"
"Yourideaischarming,but,dear,reallyIamashamed;Iaminmydressing-gown."
"Takeoffyourdressing-gownifitincommodesyou,Monsieur,butdon'tleavethischickenwingon
myhands.Iwanttoserveyoumyself."And,rising,sheturnedhersleevesuptotheelbow,andplaced
hertablenapkinonherarm.
"Itisthusthatthewaitersattherestaurantdoit,isitnot?"
"Exactly;but,waiter,allowmeatleasttokissyourhand."
"Ihavenotime,"saidshe,laughing,stickingthecorkscrewintotheneckofthebottle."Chambertin—
itisaprettyname;andthendoyourememberthatbeforeourmarriage(howhardthiscorkis!)you
toldmethatyoulikeditonaccountofapoembyAlfreddeMusset?which,bytheway,youhavenot
letmereadyet.DoyouseethetwolittleBohemianglasseswhichIboughtexpresslyforthisevening?
Wewilldrinkeachother'shealthinthem."
"Andhis,too,eh?"
"Theheir's,poordearloveofanheir!Ishouldthinkso.AndthenIwillputawaythetwoglasses
againstthistimenextyear;theyshallbeourChristmasEveglasses?Everyyearwewillsuplikethis
together,howeveroldwemayget."
"But,mydear,howaboutthetimewhenwehavenolongeranyteeth?"
"Well,wewillsupongoodstrongsoups;itwillbeverynice,allthesame.Anotherpiece,please,with
someofthejelly.Thanks."
AssheheldoutherplateInoticedherarm,theoutlineofwhichwaslostinlace.
"Whyareyoulookingupmysleeveinsteadofeating?"
"Iamlookingatyourarm,dear.Youarecharming,letmetellyou,thisevening.Thatcoiffuresuits
yousowell,andthatdresswhichIwasunacquaintedwith."
"Well,whenoneseekstomakeaconquest—"
"Howprettyyoulook,pet!"
"Isittruethatyouthinkmecharming,pretty,andapetthisevening?Well,then,"loweringhereyes
andsmilingatherbracelets,"inthatcaseIdonotseewhy—"
"Whatisityoudonotsee,dear?"
"Idonotseeanyreasonwhyyoushouldnotcomeandgivemejustalittlekiss."
Andasthekisswasprolonged,shesaidtome,amidburstsoflaughter,herheadthrownback,and
showingthedoublerowofherwhiteteeth:"Ishouldlikesomepie;yes,somebrie!Youwillbreak
myBohemianglass,theresultofmyeconomy.Youalwayscausesomemishapwhenyouwanttokiss
me.DoyourecollectatMadamedeBrill'sball,twodaysbeforeourmarriage,howyoutoremyskirt
whilewaltzinginthelittledrawing-room?"
"Becauseitisdifficulttodotwothingsatonce-tokeepstepandtokissone'spartner."
"Irecollect,too,whenmammaaskedhowmyskirthadgottorn,IfeltthatIwasblushinguptomy
ears.AndMadameD.,thatoldjaundicedfairy,whosaidtomewithherLentensmile,'Howflushed
youaretonight,mydearchild!'Icouldhavestrangledher!Isaiditwasthekeyofthedoorthathad
caughtit.Ilookedatyououtofthecornerofmyeye;youwerepullingyourmoustacheandseemed
greatlyannoyed—youarekeepingallthetrufflesforyourself;thatiskind—notthatone;Iwantthe
bigblackonethereinthecorner-itwasverywrongallthesame,for—oh!notquitefull—Idonot
wanttobetipsy—for,afterall,ifwehadnotbeenmarried—andthatmighthavehappened,foryou
knowtheysaythatmarriagesonlydependonathread.Well,ifthethreadhadnotbeenstrongenough,
Ishouldhaveremainedamaidwithakissonmyshoulder,andanicethingthatwouldhavebeen."
"Bah!itdoesnotstain."
"Yes,Monsieur,itdoes,Ibegyourpardon.Itstainssomuchthattherearehusbands,Ibelieve,who
evenshedtheirbloodtowashoutsuchlittlestains."
"ButIwasjoking,dear.Hangit!—don'tyouthink—yes,certainly,hangit!"
"Ah!that'sright,Iliketoseeyouangry.Youareatriflejealous,dear—oh!thatistoobad;Iaskedyou
forthebigblackone,andyouhavegoneandeatenit."
"Iamsorry,dear;Iquiteforgotaboutit."
"ItwasthesameattheTownHall,whereIwasobligedtojogyourelbowtomakeyouanswer'Yes'to
theMayor'skindwords."
"Kind!"
"Yes,kind.Ithoughthimcharming.Noonecouldhavebeenmoregracefulthanhewasinaddressing
me.'Mademoiselle,willyouconsenttoacceptforyourhusbandthatgreat,uglyfellowstanding
besideyou?'"(Laughing,withhermouthfull.)"Iwantedtosaytohim,'Letuscometoan
understanding,Mr.Mayor;thereissomethingtobesaidoneitherside.'Iamchoking!"—shebursts
outlaughing—"Iwaswrongnottoimposerestrictions.Yourhealth,dear!Iamteasingyou;itisvery
stupid.Isaid'Yes'withallmyheart,Icanassureyou,dear,andIthoughtthewordtooweakaone.
WhenIthinkthatallwomen,eventheworst,saythatword,Ifeelashamednottohavefoundanother."
Holdingoutherglass:"Toourgoldenwedding—willyoutouchglasses?"
"Andtohisbaptism,littlemamma."
Inalowvoice:"Tellme—areyousorryyoumarriedme?"
Laughing,"Yes."Kissingherontheshoulder,"IthinkIhavefoundthestainagain;itwasjustthere."
"Itistwointhemorning,thefireisout,andIamalittle—youwon'tlaughnow?Well,Iamalittle
dizzy."
"Acapitalpie,eh?"
"Acapitalpie!Weshallhaveacupofteaforbreakfasttomorrow,shallwenot?"
CHAPTERXVIII
FROMONETHINGTOANOTHER
SCENE.—Thecountryinautumn—Thewindisblowing without—MADAME,seatedbythefiresideinalarg earmchair,is
eng ag edinneedlework—MONSIEUR,seatedinfrontofher,iswatching theflamesofthefire—Along silence.
Monsieur—Willyoupassmethepoker,mydear?
Madame—(hummingtoherself)—"Andyetdespitesomanyfears."(Spoken.)
Hereisthepoker.(Humming.)"Despitethepainful——"
Monsieur—ThatisbyMehul,isitnot,mydear?Ah!thatismusic—IsawDelaunayRiquierinJoseph.
(Hehumsashemakesupthefire.)"Holypains."(Spoken.)Onewonderswhyitdoesnotburn,and,by
Jove!itturnsouttobegreenwood.Onlyhewasalittletoorobust—Riquier.Acharmingvoice,buthe
istoostout.
Madame—(holdingherneedleworkatadistance,thebettertojudgeoftheeffect)—Tellme,George,
wouldyouhavethissquareredorblack?Yousee,thesquarenearthepoint.Tellmefrankly.
Monsieur—(singing)"Ifyoucanrepent."(Spokenwithoutturninghishead.)Red,mydear;red.I
shouldnothesitate;Ihateblack.
Madame—Yes,butifImakethatreditwillleadmeto—(Shereflects.)
Monsieur—Well,mydear,ifitleadsyouaway,youmustholdfasttosomethingtosaveyourself.
Madame—Come,George,Iamspeakingseriously.Youknowthatifthislittlesquareisred,thepoint
cannotremainviolet,andIwouldnotchangethatforanything.
Monsieur—(slowlyandseriously)—Mydear,willyoufollowtheadviceofanirreproachable
individual,towhoseexistenceyouhavelinkedyourfate?Well,makethatsquarepea-green,andsono
moreaboutit.Justlookwhetheracoalfireeverlookedlikethat.
Madame—Ishouldonlybetoowellpleasedtouseupmypea-greenwool;Ihaveaquantityofit.
Monsieur—Thenwhereliesthedifficulty?
Madame—Thedifficultyisthatpea-greenisnotsufficientlyreligious.
Monsieur—Hum!(Humming.)Holypains!(Spoken.)Willyoubekindenoughtopassthebellows?
Woulditbeindiscreettoaskwhythepoorpea-green,whichdoesnotlookveryguilty,hassuchan
evilreputation?Youaregoinginforreligiousneedlework,then,mydear?
Madame—Oh,George!Ibegofyoutosparemeyourfun.Ihavebeenfamiliarwithitforalong
time,youknow,anditishorriblydisagreeabletome.Iamsimplymakingalittlematforthe
confessional-boxofthevicar.There!areyousatisfied?Youknowwhatitisfor,andyoumust
understandthatunderthepresentcircumstancespea-greenwouldbealtogetheroutofplace.
Monsieur—Nottheleastintheworld.IcansweartoyouthatIcouldjustaswellconfesswithpeagreenundermyfeet.ItistruethatIamnaturallyofaresolutedisposition.Useupyourwool;Ican
assureyouthatthevicarwillacceptitallthesame.Hedoesnotknowhowtorefuse.(Hepliesthe
bellowsbriskly.)
Madame—Youarepleased,areyounot?
Monsieur—Pleasedatwhat,dear?
Madame—Pleasedathavingventedyoursarcasm,athavingpassedajestononewhoisabsent.Well,I
tellyouthatyouareabadman,seeingthatyouseektoshakethefaithofthoseaboutyou.Mybeliefs
hadneedbeveryfervent,principlesstrong,andhaverealvirtue,toresisttheseincessantattacks.Well,
whyareyoulookingatmelikethat?
Monsieur—Iwanttobeconverted,mylittleapostle.Youaresoprettywhenyouspeakout;youreyes
glisten,yourvoicerings,yourgestures—Iamsurethatyoucouldspeaklikethatforalongtime,eh?
(Hekissesherhand,andtakestwoofhercurlsandtiesthemunderheychin.)Youarelookingpretty,
mypet.
Madame—Oh!youthinkyouhavereducedmetosilencebecauseyouhaveinterruptedme.Ah!there,
youhavetangledmyhair.Howprovokingyouare!Itwilltakemeanhourtoputitright.Youarenot
satisfiedwithbeingaprodigyofimpiety,butyoumustalsotanglemyhair.Come,holdoutyour
handsandtakethisskeinofwool.
Monsieur—(sittingdownonastool,whichhedrawsascloselyaspossibletoMadame,andholding
uphishands)MylittleSaintJohn!
Madame—Notsoclose,George;notsoclose.(Shesmilesdespiteherself.)Howsillyyouare!Please
becareful;youwillbreakmywool.
Monsieur—Yourreligiouswool.
Madame—Yes,myreligiouswool.(Shegiveshimalittlepatonthecheek.)Whydoyoupartyour
hairsomuchononeside,George?Itwouldsuityoumuchbetterinthemiddle,here.Yes,youmay
kissme,butgently.
Monsieur—CanyouguesswhatIamthinkingof?
Madame—HowdoyouimagineIcouldguessthat?
Monsieur—Well,Iamthinkingofthebarometerwhichisfallingandofthethermometerwhichis
fallingtoo.
Madame—Yousee,coldweatheriscomingonandmymatwillneverbefinished.Come,letusmake
haste.
Monsieur—Iwasthinkingofthethermometerwhichisfallingandofmyroomwhichfacesdue
north.
Madame—Didyounotchooseityourself?Mywool!Goodgracious!mywool!Oh!thewicked
wretch!
Monsieur—Insummermyroomwiththenorthernaspectis,nodoubt,verypleasant;butwhen
autumncomes,whenthewindcreepsin,whentheraintricklesdownthewindowpanes,whenthe
fields,thecountry,seemhiddenunderahugeveilofsadness,whenthespoilsofourwoodlandsstrew
theearth,whenthegroveshavelosttheirmysteryandthenightingalehervoice—oh!thentheroom
withthenorthernaspecthasaverynorthernaspect,and—
Madame—(continuingtowindherwool)—Whatnonsenseyouaretalking!
Monsieur—Iprotestagainstautumns,thatisall.God'ssunishiddenandIseekanother.Isnotthat
natural,mylittlefairhairedsaint,mylittlemysticlamb,mylittleblessedpalmbranch?ThisnewsunI
findinyou,pet—inyourlook,inthesweetodorofyourperson,intherustlingofyourskirt,inthe
downonyourneckwhichonenoticesbythelamp-lightwhenyoubendoverthevicar'smat,inyour
nostrilwhichexpandswhenmylipsapproachyours—
Madame—Willyoubequiet,George?ItisFriday,andEmberweek.
Monsieur—Andyourdispensation?(Hekissesher.)Don'tyouseethatyourhandshakes,thatyou
blush,thatyourheartisbeating?
Madame—George,willyouhavedone,sir?(Shepullsawayherhand,throwsherselfbackinthe
chair,andavoidsherhusband'sglance.)
Monsieur—Yourpoorlittleheartbeats,anditisright,dear;itknowsthatautumnisthetimefor
confidentialchatsandeveningcaresses,thetimeforkisses.Andyouknowittoo,foryoudefend
yourselfpoorly,andIdefyyoutolookmeintheface.Come!lookmeintheface.
Madame—(shesuddenlyleanstowardheyhusband,theballofwoolrollingintothefireplace,the
pioustaskfallingtotheground.Shetakeshisheadbetweenherhands)—Oh,whatadear,charming
husbandyouwouldbeifyouhad—
Monsieur—IfIhadwhat?Tellmequickly.
Madame—Ifyouhadalittlereligion.Ishouldonlyaskforsuchalittleatthebeginning.Itisnotvery
difficult,Icanassureyou.While,now,youarereallytoo—
Monsieur—Pea-green,eh?
Madame—Yes,pea-green,yougreatgoose.(Shelaughsfrankly.)
Monsieur—(liftinghishandsintheair)—Soundtrumpets!Madamehaslaughed;Madameis
disarmed.Well,mysnowwhitelamb,Iamgoingtofinishmystory;listenproperly,there,likethat—
yourhandshere,myheadso.Hush!don'tlaugh.Iamspeakingseriously.AsIwassayingtoyou,the
northroomislargebutcold,poeticbutgloomy,andIwilladdthattwoarenottoomanyinthis
wintryseasontocontendagainsttherigorsofthenight.Iwillfurtherremarkthatifthesacredtiesof
marriagehaveaprofoundlysocialsignificance,itis—donotinterruptme—atthathourofone's
existencewhenoneshiversonone'ssolitarycouch.
Madame—Youcannotbeserious.
Monsieur—Well,seriously,Ishouldlikethevicar'smatpiouslyspreaduponyourbed,tokeepus
bothwarmtogether,thisveryevening.Iwishtoreturnasspeedilyaspossibletotheintimacyof
conjugallife.Doyouhearhowthewindblowsandwhistlesthroughthedoors?Thefiresplutters,and
yourfeetarefrozen.(Hetakesherfootinhishands.)
Madame—Butyouaretakingoffmyslipper,George.
Monsieur—Doyouthink,mywhitelamb,thatIamgoingtoleaveyourpoorlittlefootinthatstate?
Letitstayinmyhandtobewarmed.Nothingissocoldassilk.What!openworkstockings?Mydear,
youareratherdaintyaboutyourfoot-gearforaFriday.Doyouknow,pet,youcannotimaginehow
gayIwakeupwhenthemorningsunshinesintomyroom.Youshallsee.Iamnolongeraman;Iam
achaffinch;allthejoysofspringrecurtome.Ilaugh,Ising,Ispeechify,Itelltalestomakeonedie
oflaughter.SometimesIevendance.
Madame—Comenow!Iwhointhemorninglikeneithernoisenorbroaddaylight—howlittleallthat
suits!
Monsieur—(suddenlychanginghistone)—DidIsaythatIlikedallthat?Themorningsun?Neverin
autumn,mysweetdove,never.Iawake,onthecontraryfulloflanguorandpoesy;Iwaslikethatin
myverycradle.Wewillprolongthenight,andbehindthedrawncurtain,behindtheclosedshutter,we
willremainasleepwithoutsleeping.Buriedinsilenceandshadow,delightfullystretchedbeneathyour
warmeider-downcoverlets,wewillslowlyenjoythehappinessofbeingtogether,andwewillwish
oneanothergood-morningonlyonthestrokeofnoon.Youdonotlikenoise,dear.Iwillnotsaya
word.Notamurmurtodisturbyourunfinisheddreamandwarnyouthatyouarenolongersleeping;
notabreathtorecallyoutoreality;notamovementtorustlethecoverings.Iwillbesilentasashade,
motionlessasastatue;andifIkissyou—for,afterall,Ihavemyweaknesses—itwillbedonewitha
thousandprecautions,mylipswillscarcelybrushyoursleepingshoulder;andifyouquiverwith
pleasureasyoustretchoutyourarms,ifyoureyehalfunclosesatthemurmurofmykiss,ifyourlips
smileatme,ifIkissyou,itwouldbebecauseyouwouldlikemeto,andIshallhavenothingto
reproachmyselfwith.
Madame—(hereyeshalfclosed,leaningbackinheyarmchair,herheadbentwithemotion,sheplaces
herhandsbeforehismouth.Inalowvoice)—Hush,hush!Don'tsaythat,dear;notanotherword!If
youknewhowwrongitwas!
Monsieur—Wrong!Whatistherethatiswrong?Isyourheartofmarbleoradamant,thatyoudonot
seethatIloveyou,younaughtychild?ThatIholdoutmyarmstoyou,thatIlongtoclaspyoutomy
heart,andtofallasleepinyourhair?Whatistheremoresacredintheworldthantoloveone'swife
orloveone'shusband?(Midnightstrikes.)
Madame—(shesuddenlychangesheyexpressionatthesound,throwsherarmsroundherhusband,
andhurriedlykisseshimthrice)—YouthoughtIdidnotloveyou,eh,dear?Oh,yes!Iloveyou.Great
baby!nottoseethatIwaswaitingthetime.
Monsieur—Whattime,dear?
Madame—Thetime.Ithasstrucktwelve,see.(Sheblushescrimson.)
Fridayisover.(Sheholdsoutherhandforhimtokiss.)
Monsieur—Areyousuretheclockisnotfiveminutesfast,love?
CHAPTERXIX
ALITTLECHAT
MADAMEF——-MADAMEH———
(Theseladiesareseatedatneedleworkastheytalk.)
MadameF—Formyself,youknow,mydear,Ifulfilmydutiestolerably,stillIamnotwhatwouldbe
calledadevotee.Bynomeans.Passmeyourscissors.Thanks.
MadameH—Youarequitewelcome,dear.Whatatimethoselittlesquaresoflacemusttake.Iamlike
yourselfinrespectofreligion;inthefirstplace,Ithinkthatnothingshouldbeoverdone.Haveyou
ever-Ihaveneverspokentoanyoneonthesubject,butIseeyourideasaresoinaccordancewithmy
ownthat—
MadameF—Come,speakout,dear;youtrustmealittle,Ihope.
MadameH—Well,then,haveyou—tellmetruly—everhadanydoubts?
MadameF—(afterreflectingforamoment)—Doubts!No.Andyou?
MadameH—Ihavehaddoubts,whichhasbeenarealgrieftome.Heavens!howIhavewept.
MadameF—Ishouldthinkso,mypoordear.Formyownpart,myfaithisverystrong.Thesedoubts
musthavemadeyouveryunhappy.
MadameH—Terriblyso.Youknow,itseemsasifeverythingfailedyou;thereisavacancyallabout
you—Ihaveneverspokenaboutittomyhusband,ofcourse—Leonisajewelofaman,buthewill
notlistentoanythingofthatkind.Icanstillseehim,thedayafterourmarriage;Iwassmoothingmy
hair—broadbandswerethenworn,youknow.
MadameF—Yes,yes;theywerecharming.Youwillseethatweshallgobacktothem.
MadameH—Ishouldnotbesurprised;fashionisawheelthatturns.Leon,then,saidtometheday
afterourwedding:"Mydearchild,Ishallnothinderyougoingtochurch,butIbegyou,formercy's
sake,nevertosayawordtomeaboutit."
MadameF—Really,MonsieurH.saidthattoyou?
MadameH—Uponmyhonor.Oh!myhusbandisallthatismost—or,ifyoupreferit,allthatisleast
—
MadameF—Yes,yes,Iunderstand.Thatisagrief,youknow.Mineisonlyindifferent.Fromtimeto
timehesayssomedisagreeablethingstomeonthequestion,butIamsurehecouldbeveryeasily
broughtbacktotheright.Atthefirstillnesshehas,youshallsee.Whenhehasonlyacoldinthe
head,Inoticethechange.Youhavenotseenmythimble?
MadameH—Hereitis.Donotbetoosureofthat,dear;menarenottobebroughtbackbygoing
"chk,chk"tothem,likelittlechickens.Andthen,thoughIcertainlygreatlyadmirethemenwho
observereligiouspractices,youknowmewellenoughnottodoubtthat—Ithink,asItoldyou,that
nothingshouldbeexaggerated.Andyourself,pet,shouldyouliketoseeyourhusbandwalking
beforethebannerwithagreatwaxtaperinhisrighthandandabouquetofflowersinhisleft?
MadameF—Oh!no,indeed.WhynotaskmeatoncewhetherIshouldliketoseeLeoninablacksilk
skullcap,withcottoninhisearsandaholywatersprinklerinhishand?Onehasnoneedtogo
whiningaboutachurchwithone'snoseburiedinabooktobeapiousperson;thereisamore
elevatedformofreligion,whichisthatof—ofrefinedpeople,youknow.
MadameH—Ah!whenyouspeaklikethat,Iamofyouropinion.Ithink,forinstance,thatthereis
nothinglooksfinerthanamanwhilethehostisbeingelevated.Armscrossed,nobook,headslightly
bowed,gravelook,frockcoatbuttonedup.HaveyouseenMonsieurdeP.atmass?Howwellhe
looks!
MadameF—Heissuchafineman,and,then,hedressessowell.Haveyouseenhimonhorseback?
Ah!soyouhavedoubts;buttellmewhattheyare,seeingweareindulginginconfidences.
MadameH—Icanhardlytellyou.Doubts,inshort;abouthell,forinstance,Ihavehadhorrible
doubts.Oh!butdonotletusspeakaboutthat;Ibelieveitiswrongeventothinkofit.
MadameF—Ihaveverybroadviewsonthatpoint;Ineverthinkaboutit.Besides,mylateconfessor
helpedme."Donotseektoomuch,"healwayssaidtome,"donottrytounderstandthatwhichis
unfathomable."YoudidnotknowFatherGideon?Hewasajewelofaconfessor;Iwasextremely
pleasedwithhim.Nottootedious,alwaysdiscreet,and,aboveall,well-bred.Heturnedmonkfroma
romanticcause—apenitentwasmadlyinlovewithhim.
MadameH—Impossible!
MadameF—Yes,really.What!didyounotknowaboutit?Thesuccessofthemonasterywasdueto
thataccident.BeforethecomingofFatherGideonitvegetated,butonhiscomingtheladiessoon
flockedthereincrowds.Theyorganizedalittleguild,entitled"TheLadiesoftheAgony."They
prayedfortheChinesewhohaddiedwithoutconfession,andworelittledeath'sheadsinaluminumas
sleeve-links.Itbecameveryfashionable,asyouareaware,andthegoodfathersorganized,inturn,a
registryformenservants;andtheresultisthat,fromonethingleadingtoanother,thecommunityhas
becomeextremelywealthy.IhaveevenheardthatoneofthemostimportantrailwaystationsinParis
isshortlytobemoved,sothatthesizeoftheirgardencanbeincreased,whichisratherrestrictedat
present.
MadameH—Astothat,itisnaturalenoughthatmenshouldwantaplacetowalkinathome;butwhat
Idonotunderstandisthatawoman,howeverpiousshemaybe,shouldfallinlovewithapriest.Itis
allverywell,butthatisnolongerpiety;itis—fanaticism.Iveneratepriests,Icansaysotruly,but
afterallIcannotimaginemyself—youwilllaughatme—ha,ha,ha!
MadameF—Notatall.Ha,ha,ha!whatachildyouare!
MadameH—(workingwithgreatbriskness)—Well,Icannotimaginethattheyaremen—likethe
others.
MadameF—(resumingworkwithequalardor)—Andyet,mydear,peoplesaytheyare.
MadameH—Therearesomanyfalsereportssetafloat.(Alongsilence.)
MadameF—(inadiscreettoneofvoice)—Afterall,therearepriestswhohavebeards—the
Capuchins,forinstance.
MadameH—MadamedeV.hasabeardrightuptohereyes,sothatcountsfornothing,dear.
MadameF—Thatcountsfornothing.Idonotthinkso.Inthefirstplace,MadamedeV.'sbeardisnota
perennialbeard;herniecetoldmethatsheshedshermoustacheseveryautumn.Whatcanabeardbe
thatcannotstandthewinter?Ameretrifle.
MadameH—Ameretriflethatishorriblyugly,mydear.
MadameF—Oh!ifMadamedeV.hadonlymoustachestofrightenawaypeople,onemightstilllook
uponherwithoutsorrow,but—
MadameH—Igrantallthat.LetusallowthattheCountess'smoustacheandimperialareanameless
speciesofgrowth.Idonotattachmuchimportancetothepoint,youunderstand.Shehasachinof
heartbreakingfertility,thatisall.
MadameF—Toreturntowhatweweresaying,howisitthatthemenwhoarestrongest,most
courageous,mostmanly—soldiers,infact—arepreciselythosewhohavemostbeard?
MadameH—Thatisnonsense,forthenthepioneerswouldbebraverthan
theGenerals;and,inanycase,thereisnotinFrance,Iamsure,a
GeneralwithasmuchbeardasaCapuchin.Youhaveneverlookedata
Capuchinthen?
MadameF—Oh,yes!Ihavelookedatonequiteclose.Itisaratherfunnystory.FancyClementine's
cookhavingabrotheraCapuchin—anex-jeweller,averydecentman.Inconsequenceofmisfortunes
inbusiness—itwasin1848,businesswasatastand-still—inshort,helosthissenses—no,hedidnot
losehissenses,buthethrewhimselfintothearmsofHeaven.
MadameH—Oh!Ineverknewthat!When?Clementine—
MadameF—Iwaslikeyou,Iwouldnotbelieveit,butonedayClementinesaidtome:"Sinceyouwill
notbelieveinmyCapuchin,comeandseemetomorrowaboutthreeo'clock;hewillbepayingavisit
tohissister.Don'thavelunchfirst;wewilllunchtogether."Verygood.Iwentthenextdaywith
Louise,whoabsolutelyinsisteduponaccompanyingme,andIfoundatClementine'sfiveorsixladies
installedinthedrawing-roomandlaughinglikemadcaps.TheyhadallcometoseetheCapuchin.
"Well,"saidI,asIwentin,whentheyallbegantomakesignstomeandwhisper,"Hush,hush!"He
wasinthekitchen.
MadameH—Andwhatwashelike?
MadameF—Oh!verynice,excepthisfeet;youknowhowitalwaysgivesoneachilltolookattheir
feet;but,inshort,hewasveryamiable.Hewassentforintothedrawing-room,buthewouldnottake
anythingexceptalittlebiscuitandaglassofwater,whichtookawayourappetites.Hewasverylively;
toldusthatwewerecoquetteswithourlittlebonnetsandourfullskirts.Hewasveryfunny,alwaysa
littlebitofthejewelleratthebottom,butwithplentyofgoodnatureandfrankness.Heimitatedthe
buzzingofaflyforus;itwaswonderful.Healsowantedtoshowusalittleconjuringtrick,buthe
neededtwocorksforit,andunfortunatelyhissistercouldonlyfindone.
MadameH—Nomatter,IcannotunderstandClementineengagingaservantlikethat.
MadameF—Why?Thebrotherisaguarantee.
MadameH—Ofmorality,Idon'tsayno;butitseemstomethatagirllikethatcannotbeverydiscreet
inherways.
MadameF—Howdoyoumakethatout?
MadameH—Idon'tknow,Icannotreasonthematterout,butitseemstomethatitmustbeso,thatis
all,...besides,Ishouldnotliketoseeamonkinmykitchen,closetothesoup.Oh,mercy!no!
MadameF—Whatachildyouare!
MadameH—Thathasnothingtodowithreligiousfeelings,mydear;Idonotattackanydogma.Ah!
ifIweretosay,forinstance—comenow,ifIweretosay,whatnow?
MadameF—Inpointoffact,whatreallyisdogma?
MadameH—Well,itiswhatcannotbeattacked.Thus,forinstance,athingthatisevident,you
understandme,isunassailable,...orelseitshouldbeassailed,..inshort,itcannotbeattacked.That
iswhyitismonstroustoallowtheJewishreligionandtheProtestantreligioninFrance,becausethese
religionscanbeassailed,fortheyhavenodogma.Igiveyouthisbriefly,butinyourprayer-book
youwillfindthelistofdogmas.Iamarodofironasregardsdogmas.Myhusband,who,asIsaid,
hassucceededininspiringmewithdoubtsonmanymatters—withoutimaginingit,forhehasnever
requiredanythingofme;Imustdohimthatjustice—butwho,atanyrate,hassucceededinmaking
meneglectmanythingsbelongingtoreligion,suchasfasting,vespers,sermons,...confession.
MadameF—Confession!Oh!mydear,Ishouldneverhavebelievedthat.
MadameH—Itisinconfidence,dearpet,thatItellyouthis.Youwillswearnevertospeakofit?
MadameF—Confession!Oh!yes,Iswearit.Comehere,andletmekissyou.
MadameH—Youpityme,doyounot?
MadameF—Icannotpityyoutoomuch,forIamabsolutelyinthesameposition.
MadameH—You,too!Goodheavens!howIloveyou.Whatcanonedo,eh?Mustonenotintroduce
someplanofconciliationintothehousehold,sacrificeone'sbeliefalittletothatofone'shusband?
MadameF—Nodoubt.Forinstance,howwouldyouhavemegotohighmass,whichiscelebratedat
myparishchurchateleveno'clockexactly?Thatisjustourbreakfasttime.CanIletmyhusband
breakfastalone?Hewouldneverhindermefromgoingtohighmass,hehassaidsoathousandtimes,
onlyhehasalwaysadded,"Whenyouwanttogotomassduringbreakfasttime,Ionlyaskonething
—itistogivemenoticethedaybefore,sothatImayinvitesomefriendstokeepmecompany."
MadameH—Butonlyfancy,pet,ourtwohusbandscouldnotbemorealikeiftheywerebrothers.
Leonhasalwayssaid,"Mydearlittlechicken—"
MadameF—Ha!ha!ha!
MadameH—Yes,thatishisnameforme;youknowhowlivelyheis.Hehasalwayssaidtome,then,
"Mydearlittlechicken,Iamnotamantodoviolencetoyouropinions,butinreturngivewaytome
asregardssomeofyourpiouspractices."Ionlygiveyouthemeregistofit;itwassaidwitha
thousanddelicacies,whichIsuppress.AndIhaveagreedbydegrees,...sothat,whileonlypaying
verylittleattentiontotheoutwardobservancesofreligion,Ihaveremained,asItoldyou,abarof
ironasregardsdogmas.Oh!astothat,Iwouldnotgivewayaninch,ahair-breadth,andLeonisthe
firsttotellmethatIamright.Afterall,dogmaiseverything;practice,well,whatwouldyou?IfI
couldbringLeonround,itwouldbequiteanotherthing.HowgladIamtohavespokentoyouabout
allthis.
MadameF—Havewenotbeenchattering?Butitishalf-pastfive,andImustgoandtakemycinchona
bark.Thirtyminutesbeforemeals,itisasacredduty.Willyoucome,pet?
MadameH—Stopamoment,Ihavelostmythimbleagainandmustfindit.