like a feather."
"She has a shapely calf," said Monsieur Berlingue.
In her struggles, Mademoiselle Cheval did in fact show her calves and
her garters; but thus far everything had gone off successfully, and
Monsieur Férulus, who, standing at the foot of the pole, kept his eyes
fixed on her, constantly encouraged her by calling out "mate animo,"
which the cook took for an insult, and to which she replied: "Climb
yourself, you animal!"
At last Mademoiselle Cheval reached the goal; she untied the two volumes
and dropped them into the courtyard.
The librarian, overjoyed that the prizes had been won, ordered the
orchestra to play a _fanfare_; the company applauded, and Mademoiselle
Cheval, in the excitement of her triumph, attempted to slide down
rapidly; but her dress stuck to the honey and refused to be detached; so
that, as she dropped, her face soon disappeared beneath her skirts,
while her legs were exposed to the observation of the spectators.
A murmur arose; the ladies resorted to their fans or left the balcony,
the men took their glasses, and made comments on what they saw, and
Robineau cried:
"Take her down!"
Monsieur Férulus, who did not know the cause of the tumult, shouted with
all his strength:
"Honor to the victor!"
"Parbleu! this is quite honor enough!" said Monsieur Berlingue; while
the peasants laughed and shouted, and Jeannette artlessly observed:
"I say, she’s showing her warming pan!"
However, with a final effort, Mademoiselle succeeded in freeing herself
just as François arrived with a ladder; she descended, bowed to the
company and returned to her kitchen, amid the acclamations of all the
peasants. Thereupon the guests left the balcony and the windows.
Robineau suggested taking a stroll in the gardens, and they all
consented, in order to do something to kill time before dinner. The men
offered the ladies their arms. Edouard did not have to take that
trouble, because the languishing Eudoxie had not once left his arm, upon
which she leaned as if she had done nothing else for ten years. Cornélie
continued to ogle Alfred, but he had turned his attentions to two rather
attractive young ladies, and Mademoiselle de la Pincerie accepted the
hand which the master of the château offered her with a sigh.
They walked about at random; each couple went in whatever direction they
pleased; and in large parties, not until then do people begin to talk
freely, and to know and understand one another.
"What did you think of the little sports that were performed just now?"
said Robineau, as he and Cornélie turned into one of the shady paths of
the garden.
"Why, they were very good; I rather liked them; they were quite
original.--Why are we going away from the other ladies and gentlemen?"
"Oh! we will join them again. I am so happy to be once--to be for a
moment--to try to----"
"Who is that tall young man whom you call Alfred?"
"He is an intimate friend of mine, a baron, with more than a hundred
thousand francs a year.--But I was saying, mademoiselle, that I am
enjoying the keenest happiness, and----"
"Is this Monsieur Alfred married?"
"No, he is a bachelor, and so is Edouard Beaumont.--However, as we are
alone for a moment, which rarely happens, I would like to express to
you,--to make you understand----"
"Ah! I think I see your two friends; let us walk a little faster."
"Never fear; monsieur le marquis your father, and your uncle, are very
busy talking politics with Monsieur Moulinet, and they will not notice
that----"
"Much I care about my father and my uncle! they think well enough of me,
monsieur, not to be afraid to let me walk with whomever I please!"
"I do not doubt it, mademoiselle; that was not what I meant; but when
one is with you, the confusion, the agitation one feels make one, in
spite of oneself----"
"He is very good-looking, is this Monsieur Alfred. His friend is not
bad-looking, either. I don’t know which of them is the better looking!"
"I don’t know, mademoiselle, whether you have divined the secret
sentiments of my heart. The other evening, when I danced with you at the
tax-collector’s, it seemed to me that I was happy enough to----"
"Does your friend Alfred intend to pass some time in this region?"
"Oh, yes, he is in no hurry, he has nothing to do.--Well, mademoiselle,
do you remember that contradance, when, as we made the _poule_, I
declared that your charms, that your graces----"
"Mon Dieu! I am so accustomed to having compliments paid me, monsieur,
and declarations of love, that three-fourths of the time I pay no
attention to them!"
"I can understand that perfectly, and it does honor to your modesty. But
still, your heart must be touched some day and if I were the fortunate
mortal----"
"Ah! I beg your pardon, I see my sister; I have something to say to
her!"
Mademoiselle Cornélie escaped and ran to join Eudoxie, who was walking
with Edouard, Alfred and several ladies. Robineau looked after her,
saying to himself:
"She is fascinating! A magnificent figure! and after our conversation, I
have every reason to believe that I am not displeasing to her."
The guests walked about for some time in the gardens, where Monsieur
Vincent was sitting on a bench, in evident ill humor, amusing himself by
throwing dirt and water on his yellow breeches. Monsieur de la Pincerie
had seized an old annuitant, to whom he was confiding his plans of
economy, trudging through the strawberry plants; Monsieur Gérard plucked
flowers for the ladies; Uncle Mignon looked for pins for his nieces;
Alfred, as a matter of habit, paid compliments to the young ladies who
were with him; Edouard talked little, but from time to time he sighed
as he walked about with Madame de Hautmont; and the widow, who could not
conceive that a man could sigh for another woman than herself, sighed
with him, leaning more heavily on his arm. Monsieur Berlingue examined
with a mocking air the colored lanterns and the dilapidated statues; the
Chevalier de Tantignac told a fable to every person that he met; and
Monsieur Férulus put everybody to flight, because he carried with him an
odor of cheese, which recalled too vividly the throwing of the discus.
Mademoiselle de la Pincerie had received Robineau’s homage civilly
enough at Saint-Amand; for Cornélie was nearing her twenty-eighth year,
and although she was the daughter of a noble family, the marquis’s
fortune consisted in little else than his economical projects; the tall
young lady had noticed that the attentions which were paid to her always
began and ended with compliments, and she was beginning to desire most
earnestly to be called madame. In truth, to save her self-esteem, the
family had agreed to say to all those people who expressed surprise that
the fair Cornélie had never married, that for family reasons they wished
to obtain a place for her Uncle Mignon first. But the uncle was becoming
quite as difficult to find a place for as his niece was to find a
husband for, and Cornélie no longer assumed such haughty airs with her
admirers. That is why she had smiled amiably at the new owner of the
château, who, although he was not of an old family, had at all events a
fortune with which she could make a show, and appear to much greater
advantage. They had prudently sent Uncle Mignon to the notary to make
inquiries concerning Robineau’s fortune; the notary at Saint-Amand knew
the new owner only from the fact that he had purchased the estate of La
Roche-Noire, and that Robineau asked him every day for considerable
sums, which were repaid to him by his confrère in Paris. From the mode
of life that the new lord was leading, one might well accredit him with
twice the amount that he really possessed; so that the notary answered
Uncle Mignon that he was a man who probably had fifty thousand francs a
year.
The uncle returned and imparted this news to his niece, jumping and
showing his teeth, because he too thought that a very wealthy nephew
would be of great assistance to him in procuring employment; and the La
Pincerie family accepted Robineau’s invitation with pleasure.
But Mademoiselle Cornélie had found Alfred much more fascinating than
the lord of La Roche-Noire; the unaffected bearing, the amiable manners,
and the lively tone of young De Marcey had caused Robineau to appear
more stupid and heavy than ever; and when she learned that the tall
young man was a baron and had an income of a hundred thousand francs,
she thought of nothing but making a conquest of him, because, in
addition to his physical advantages, there was fifty per cent. to be won
with him.
That is why she had dropped Robineau’s arm to run after Eudoxie, who had
seated herself under a clump of trees with Alfred and several other
ladies of the company, married and single.
Cornélie ran to them at a mincing gait, holding her hand to her heart,
and said:
"I don’t know what the matter is with me, but I am tired so soon."
They hastened to offer a seat to the young lady, who eyed from the
height of her grandeur the young women to whom Alfred had offered his
arm.
"These gardens are immense!" said Eudoxie; "but it seems to me that they
might have been arranged in a more mysterious way."
"Mesdames," said Edouard, "it is Monsieur Jules’s intention to arrange
them so; but he has not yet had time to carry out all the improvements
that he plans; so you must excuse him if his property is still somewhat
in confusion, for his keen desire to receive you did not allow him to
wait until everything was entirely finished."
"Ah! this gentleman is very agreeable," said one of the young women; "he
takes so much trouble to entertain us."
"Besides, mesdames," said Alfred, "you must remember that you are at a
bachelor’s house, and that quality should induce you to overlook many
things."
"That quality!" said Cornélie, pressing her lips together; "do you call
that a quality, monsieur?"
"It is at all events a condition which entitles one to be excused for
many thoughtless acts."
"You abuse the privilege sometimes, messieurs!" said Eudoxie, making
eyes at Edouard, who was gazing at the foliage.
"However," rejoined Alfred smiling, "I believe that our friend does not
intend to retain long that title upon which you ladies make war."
All the young ladies were silent and looked at the ground. There was a
moment’s pause, which Eudoxie broke, saying:
"Monsieur de la Roche-Noire is certainly very gallant; his fête is
delightful; if only he won’t have those vulgar peasants fight any more,
for that is a spectacle which I cannot endure."
"Well I would have liked to climb the greased pole!" said a little girl
of ten to her older sister.
"Oh! that would have been very nice, mademoiselle!" replied the sister;
"to do as that vulgar creature did and show your----"
The older sister suddenly checked herself and turned as red as a beet;
all the young ladies lowered their eyes once more. Renewed silence,
which amused the young men immensely.
"You gentlemen did not come with Monsieur de la Roche-Noire to the last
parties which were given in our town?" said Eudoxie, addressing Alfred.
"As we knew no one at Saint-Amand, mademoiselle, we thought that it
would be impertinent to try to obtain our own inclusion in invitations
which were addressed solely to the new owner of this estate."
"Why so, pray, monsieur? My father will certainly be charmed to become
better acquainted with Monsieur le Baron de Marcey."
"And with Monsieur Edouard de Beaumont," said Eudoxie.
"It is not _de_ Beaumont." replied Edouard, with a bow, "it is Beaumont
simply."
"There speaks the modesty of a man of letters, who desires to owe his
reputation to his genius alone."
"Monsieur has something of my cousin the viscount’s look in his
features," said Cornélie, glancing at Alfred; "don’t you think so,
sister? In the eyes, and the shape of the mouth; but monsieur is even
better looking."
"I have heard a great deal about your works, monsieur," said Eudoxie to
Edouard; "and I am delighted to be in the company of the author of
compositions so well turned."
"These women are terrible with their compliments!" whispered Edouard in
Alfred’s ear. Luckily for the young men, Robineau bustled up to them,
crying:
"Dinner is ready, mesdames! Let us go to the dining-room, if you
please!"
Cornélie had approached Alfred, and put out her hand as if
absent-mindedly; but Alfred, paying no heed to Mademoiselle de la
Pincerie’s distraction, offered his arms to the two young women with
whom he had already been walking, and moved away with them. Thereupon
Cornélie abruptly took the hand that Robineau offered her; her anger
caused her to squeeze it violently; and Robineau, beside himself with
joy, kept repeating to her all the way:
"I am the most fortunate of mortals!"
They reached the banquet hall, which was decorated with festoons,
garlands and mottoes.
"This is very neat," said Madame Gérard.
"It is like Berthelemot’s," said Monsieur Berlingue.
"It is the salon of Apollo," said Monsieur Férulus, as he ushered each
guest in with a self-satisfied air.
"The salon of Apollo? What on earth does that mean?" rejoined Monsieur
Berlingue; "I did not know that Apollo presided at banquets."
"Is not monsieur aware, pray, that Lucullus had for his banquets several
rooms, each of which bore the name of some divinity? and that that name
also served to designate to the major-domo the amount that he was to
spend for the banquet? So that Lucullus had only to say in which room he
would sup, and the functionary knew the number of courses he was to
serve. Nero, going a step beyond Lucullus, built the famous house of
gold to give banquets in; Heliogabalus surpassed even Nero in the
magnificence of his feasts, where there were as many courses as there
were letters in the alphabet. Ah! you must agree, monsieur, after that,
that we do not know how to eat! Think of the Emperor Claudius Albinus,
who had for his breakfast five hundred figs, a hundred peaches, ten
melons, a hundred ortolans, forty oysters and a lot of grapes! of the
Emperor Maximin I, whose usual ration was sixty pounds of meat and
twenty-four pints of wine; so that he became so fat that he wore his
wife’s bracelets as finger rings. Think of----"
But Monsieur Férulus discovered that he was talking to deaf ears,
because they had all taken their places at the table; whereupon he ran
to the seat which he had caused to be reserved for himself, between
Uncle Mignon and Monsieur Moulinet; and Monsieur Férulus had ordered the
servants to place the large dishes in front of him, having told Robineau
that he would undertake the duty of carving.
The large armchair reserved for solemn occasions had been taken to the
dining-room, and Robineau had offered it to Monsieur de la Pincerie, who
had planted himself in it; and the elevation of the seat, added to his
tall stature, caused him to soar above the rest of the guests.
"Mon Dieu! How handsome my father is like that!" said Eudoxie, who had
found a way to sit beside Edouard; whereas Cornélie, seated between
Robineau and Monsieur Berlingue, sulked throughout the dinner, because
Alfred laughed and chatted with two young women between whom he was
sitting.
"Madame," said the Chevalier de Tantignac, who was at Eudoxie’s right,
"I was once at a dinner where everyone was seated on a chair the height
of which was proportioned to his merit; I actually touched the ceiling,
and the servants were obliged to stand on stilts in order to serve us."
"Who wants soup? Who has not any soup?" cried Monsieur Férulus, as if
speaking to his scholars.
"This is worthy of Heliogabalus," said Monsieur Berlingue.
"Oh! messieurs," said Monsieur de la Pincerie, after swallowing two
plates of soup, "I hope to entertain you with better dinners than this!
When I have completed my economical schemes, in which I prove that soup
can be made without meat, I will show you some amazing soup!"
"I trust that I shan’t dine with him that day," said Monsieur Berlingue
to his neighbor.
"You seem to be eating nothing, fair Cornélie?" said Robineau, with a
languishing glance at his neighbor.
"I am not hungry, monsieur."
"Ah! that is the way I was the day before yesterday!"
"Your friend Alfred seems to be in very high spirits."
"Yes, he’s a facetious fellow.--Will you have a little of the
_vol-au-vent_?"
"I will take just a taste of it."
"Monsieur Férulus, a taste of _vol-au-vent_ for Mademoiselle de la
Pincerie."
Monsieur Férulus had a way of serving by which the choicest bits were
always left for himself.
"Who on earth is that gentleman who carves so well and serves us so
ill?" asked a young man to whom Férulus had as yet given nothing but
legs, necks and bones.
"He is a scholar, a philologist; he manages everything in the château."
"And eats everything too, I should say."
"He knows ten tongues."[10]
"Ah! in that case, I am not surprised that he eats so fast!"
"Who was it who arranged the guests in this way?" inquired Mademoiselle
Cornélie; "it seems to me that it’s a wretched arrangement."
"It was my librarian who undertook to do it; but I told him to place me
beside you, otherwise the whole thing would have seemed dull and
wretched to me.--You drink nothing! here is a certain burgundy----"
"Oh! the idea! Do you expect a woman to drink, and to be a connoisseur
in wine?"
"Mademoiselle is right," said Férulus, filling his glass; "wine is not
suited to the fair sex; Mecenius killed his wife because she had drunk
wine; in the time of Romulus, a woman having broken the seals of a
cellar, her kinsmen condemned her to die of starvation!"
"Oh! for heaven’s sake, let us alone with your Romans, monsieur!" said
Madame Gérard; "they were impertinent creatures if they prevented their
wives from doing as they chose!--Give me some wine, Monsieur Gérard."
"That woman has a very masculine tone," said Eudoxie, turning to
Edouard.--"Uncle Mignon, please fetch me my handkerchief, which I left
in the salon."
Uncle Mignon regretfully left the table to fetch his niece’s
handkerchief, and when he returned, Cornélie sent him to find her
reticule. Meanwhile, Monsieur Moulinet went into ecstasies over all that
was given him to eat, exclaiming:
"You have a delicious cook, Monsieur de la Roche-Noire."
"She is a woman," said Robineau; "she is a girl of great merit; it was
she who won the prize on the greased pole."
"We already know a part of her merits," said Monsieur Berlingue.
"In old days, that girl would not have remained in her kitchen," said
Férulus, "Sultan Osman made a gardener who planted cabbages well a
viceroy; Anthony gave a Roman citizen’s house to a cook, and Henry VIII,
King of England, raised to a post of honor a scullion who had cooked a
wild boar to a turn."
"Evidently," said Monsieur Berlingue in an undertone, "that fellow has
sworn to make us eat ancient history."
"I have a prodigious talent in the way of cooking," said Tantignac,
"although you might not think it. You may judge for yourselves. One day,
three of my friends came unexpectedly to dine with me, in an isolated
château where I was living; all my servants had gone out, and there were
no provisions in my castle. Well! what do you suppose occurred to me? I
had an old pair of leather breeches which I no longer wore, and I took
it into my head to regale my friends on them; I scraped and cleaned
them, put them into the kettle, and made such a delicious sauce for
them, that my guests and myself made an excellent dinner!"
"I see nothing so extraordinary in that," said Edouard, who was
beginning to weary of Monsieur de Tantignac’s lies; "once I entertained
a friend at breakfast with old sheets of parchment stewed _à la
poulette_."
"Oh! upon my word, monsieur," sneered the chevalier, "allow me to tell
you that that is a little too much! Parchment would never digest."
"Why, monsieur," said Edouard, "I allowed you to dine on leather
breeches; it seems to me that you might in return allow me to breakfast
just once on parchment!"
The company laughed heartily, and the Chevalier de Tantignac did not
breathe a word during the rest of the meal.
Cornélie was bored at the table, and she requested Robineau to hasten
the service, on the pretext that it was not good form to be a long while
at dinner; but Monsieur Férulus constantly invented some pretext or
found some quotation as an excuse for keeping the dishes which the
servants were about to remove. But at last they arrived at the dessert;
the ladies, who were burning with the desire to dance, were already
suggesting an adjournment to the ball room, when Monsieur Férulus rose
and observed in a solemn tone that he had something to sing on a subject
which could not fail to interest the company.
Everybody was silent and waited for him to begin; the librarian drank a
glass of madeira to give himself courage, and began, to the tune of the
lament of the Maréchal de Saxe, a eulogy of Robineau, in which he
compared him with Saturn, Sophocles, Cicero and Bayard. The guests
glanced furtively at one another, biting their lips. Uncle Mignon alone
stuffed himself with biscuits and macaroons, taking advantage of a
moment when his nieces left him undisturbed.
As it was plain after the third couplet that Monsieur Férulus did not
propose to stop, a faint murmur arose. Robineau, taking that for a sign
of approbation, lowered his eyes modestly, and said to Mademoiselle
Cornélie:
"He insisted upon singing these couplets. Certainly if I had suspected
that he would mention me, I would not have consented."
"Very well, monsieur, then tell him to hold his tongue, and order the
coffee at once."
Instead of ordering the coffee, Robineau tried to think how he could
demand an encore, as he had promised Férulus to do; but a part of the
ladies had already left the table, and the others soon followed their
example; the men made haste to drink their coffee, and Monsieur Férulus
discovered that he was singing for Uncle Mignon alone; even he was soon
called away by his nieces to tie something or other.
"Behold the results of a poor education," said Férulus to himself;
"these people put on airs and have no manners! I will go and sing my
couplets to Jeannette; she will listen to me or tell me the reason why."
The ball room was decorated as if for a distribution of prizes. The
musicians, seated upon raised benches, played false with distressing
self-assurance; but when it is a question of dancing, the ladies are
always indulgent. Monsieur Robineau opened the ball with Cornélie;
Alfred danced opposite them, which aroused a spirit of emulation in
Mademoiselle de la Pincerie, who executed her steps with such accuracy
that Robineau cried:
"She dances like a geometrician!"
Edouard did not care to dance; amid that crowd, that noise, all those
remarks exchanged but unheeded, his thoughts wandered far from the
château. But one must do like everybody else; the languishing Eudoxie
did not dance, as she found that exercise too violent for her nerves;
and to her great amazement Edouard left her to invite another lady.
Despite the accuracy of her steps, Mademoiselle Cornélie was not invited
by Alfred for the following dance. Indeed she came very near not dancing
at all, because Robineau had felt called upon to invite another partner;
but Uncle Mignon was always at hand to make himself useful; his niece
called him, and they took their places opposite Alfred, before whom
Mademoiselle Cornélie executed nothing but pirouettes.
They had reached the fourth dance when the explosion of a bomb announced
the fireworks.
"What! already?" said Robineau; "it is much too soon. François, go and
tell Monsieur Férulus not to set them off yet."
But Monsieur Férulus, to avenge himself for their refusal to listen to
his singing, had vowed that he would not allow the ball to last any
longer than the dinner. He had not awaited the message from François to
set fire to the suns and the pin-wheels; and when the valet came with
his master’s orders, the librarian replied:
"I am very sorry, but the fire is lighted and I can’t put it out."