"I thought you would trump, madame."
"We've lost the odd--and it's your fault."
"We have won."
"Now for the rubber!"
"I beg you, Monsieur de la Beriniere, stand behind Monsieur
Batonnin.--Oh! he doesn't listen to me! he has gone to pay his court to
Mademoiselle Adolphine. What a butterfly that man is, and when will he
sober down?"
"It seems to me," observed Monsieur Clairval, with a smile, "that it
would be rather hard for him to change his habits now."
The count had, in fact, approached Adolphine, who was still pretending
to be absorbed in the music-books, and who apparently did not see that
anyone was by her side.
"You are fond of music, mademoiselle?"
"Ah!--I beg your pardon. Yes, monsieur, very."
"Do you sing?"
"A little."
"Young ladies are never willing to admit that they sing more than a
little. I don't refer to you, mademoiselle. I am told that your voice is
very sweet and true."
"Your informant flatters me, monsieur."
"Shall we have the pleasure of hearing you this evening?"
"I don't know at all, monsieur. But, if it will gratify my sister----"
"Your sister, of course; but the whole company as well."
"Oh! whist players care but little for singing."
"You are more or less right; that game makes savages of
people--ferocious savages, I may say. Whist enthusiasts close the door
when there is singing in the next room. I verily believe, that, if you
told them the house was burning down, they'd insist on finishing their
_rub_ before making their escape."
"You see that it would be very unkind of me to sing."
"Pardon me, I am not playing; and what do you care if----"
"Monsieur de la Beriniere, in the name of your ancestors, come and show
Monsieur Batonnin how to play; it's very important! We are playing the
rub, and I don't want to lose it through my partner's misplay."
"That Madame de Mirallon is a terrible creature, really! Ah! when women
grow old, they gain in exactingness what they lose in attractions; and
the compensation isn't sufficient."
Having indulged in this muttered reflection, the count returned to his
station behind Monsieur Batonnin; and Madame de Mirallon bestowed a long
and searching glance upon him as she said:
"It's very hard to keep you, now!"
And the _word_ now brought a smile to the lips of Monsieur Clairval, who
said to his partner:
"Come, Monsieur de Raincy, we must stand to our guns; we are playing
against three."
XX
A NEWLY MARRIED PAIR
Adolphine left the piano and sat down beside her sister.
"I am sure that you are annoyed, Fanny, because your husband doesn't
come home."
"I? Mon Dieu! I wasn't thinking about him at all. If he stays away, it
is probably because he has business to attend to. You don't understand
business, you see, Adolphine; you don't know that, if you want to make a
lot of money, you must sometimes deprive yourself of a little pleasure."
"No, it's true, I don't understand money matters; but I thought that two
people just married could not be happy apart, that they must be
horribly bored when they're not together."
"Oh! my dear girl, there's reason in everything. And then, we have
plenty of time to be together."
"Still, when you marry for love--and Monsieur Monleard certainly seemed
to be in love with you---- Is that all over already?"
"Why--no--but when two people are once married, they're no longer like
two lovers. You'll find that out some day, my little sister! I still
call you little, although you're taller than I."
"Ah! I know that I could never love as placidly as you do!--I was afraid
that your husband might be angry with you on account of that duel."
"Auguste has too much good sense and breeding to charge me with the
folly and extravagance of another, as a crime. It's not my fault that
another man was in love with me!"
"Oh! that poor Gustave! He did love you so dearly!"
"Oh, yes! I advise you to pity him! He behaved nobly, didn't he? To go
shouting jeremiads in the street, and end by sending someone to fight in
his place! Fie! it was shameful!"
"Fanny, you judge Gustave too harshly; do you impute it to him as a
crime, that he didn't insult your husband? Oh! he probably would have
done it, if his uncle hadn't dragged him away, almost by force, from
that restaurant, where he absolutely insisted on speaking to you."
"How do you know all that?"
"Because it was I who sent word to Monsieur Grandcourt that his nephew
was at the restaurant where the wedding was being celebrated."
"Oh! yes, so you told me. That fellow wanted to make a scene--and by
what right? Was I obliged to marry him, I should like to know?"
"You allowed him to believe that you loved him."
"Nonsense! because a woman listens to the soft things these men say to
her, because she smiles when they sigh, they instantly assume that she
adores them. A fine position he offered me, didn't he? Three thousand
francs a year--magnificent!"
"If you had really loved him, you wouldn't have cared about his wealth."
"Oh! I'm not romantic like you. With Auguste, I have a coupe at my
orders, and I find it very pleasant. I tell you again, your Monsieur
Gustave is an idiot!"
"Ah! Fanny, it's wicked for you to talk like that; to treat him so, just
because he loved you sincerely."
"Much I care about his love! His behavior was none the less blamable.
What excuse had he for sending that tall ruffian to insult me when I
left the ball--which, of course, compelled Auguste to fight with the
fellow?"
"I would take my oath that Monsieur Gustave never told that person, with
whom he had dined, to say a single insulting word to you. Besides,
Monsieur Grandcourt took his nephew away long before you left the ball.
That man, who presumed to address an offensive remark to you, was drunk;
he had already had trouble with some of the gentlemen, for he insisted
on offering his arm to the ladies when they arrived for the ball."
"Then, my dear girl, you will agree that your Monsieur Gustave has some
very low acquaintances?"
Adolphine made no reply, but sadly lowered her eyes. A moment later, her
sister continued: "What surprises me is that I haven't once seen
Monsieur Gustave, or met him anywhere, since my wedding. For a man so
dead in love, not to try to see me at my window, at least once---- You
see that he is consoled, so soon."
"He is not in Paris. His uncle forced him to start for Spain the very
next day."
"Ah! he's in Spain? that makes a difference! But you seem to know all
about him. From whom, pray?"
"Father met Monsieur Grandcourt not long ago, and he told him that his
nephew was in Spain."
"Ah! someone has just rung."
"It's your husband, no doubt."
"If it's he, we shall see him in a moment."
It was not the master of the house who entered the salon, but Monsieur
Gerbault, who, like an affectionate father, began by kissing his
daughters.
"Good-evening, father," said Fanny. "Why didn't you come to dinner, with
Adolphine? My husband didn't like it."
"I couldn't, my dear child. Adolphine must have told you that I had
promised a gentleman from the provinces----"
"A fine reason! You should have sent your gentleman from the provinces
off somewhere to dine by himself."
"No, when I have promised, I keep my promise. Where is your husband, by
the way?"
"He had somebody to see to-night. He'll be at home soon."
"There! we have lost! I knew it!" cried Madame de Mirallon. "Ah!
Monsieur Batonnin, I will never forgive you those six counters!"
"But, madame, I am well paid by the pleasure of having been your
partner."
"Luckily, Monsieur Gerbault is here. He knows how to play! Come and take
a hand, Monsieur Gerbault."
"I do not care to play any more," said De Raincy; "when I have played
two rubberth, I have had enough; it maketh my head ache."
As he spoke, the nattily-gloved youth left the card-table and joined the
two sisters.
"Were you at the Bourse to-day, Monsieur de Raincy?" inquired Fanny.
"Thertainly, madame; I go there every day."
"How were the Orleans and Lyon Railway shares?"
"Very thtrong, madame."
"Do you think they'll go higher?"
"Why, yeth, I think tho; unleth they go down."
"That's rather a vague opinion."
"I never have any definite opinion. At the Bourth one ith tho often
mithtaken! But your huthband can keep you pothted better than I can. He
ith alwayth there; he theemth to be interethted in thome big dealth."
"Auguste? True, but he doesn't like to have me ask him how the market is
going; he declares that women know nothing about it; that they ought to
attend to spending the money, not to making it."
"I fanthy that ith the general rule among the ladieth."
"I think differently. Oh! if I had been a man, I would have been a
stock-broker!"
"Do you mean it! There are thome of them who have to put up with
lotheth. Ah! here'th our dear Monleard!"
Fanny's husband had just arrived; he wore his right arm in a sling; he
was very pale, his face was careworn, and his eyes almost sombre.
However, finding guests in his salon, he instantly assumed the affable
manner which a host should always display. Young De Raincy hastened to
go to shake hands with him.
"Good-evening! dear boy."
"Good-evening! Anatole. Messieurs, mesdames, your servant!"
The Comte de la Beriniere also shook hands with Monleard, crying:
"Ah! here's the lucky man! the fortunate husband! So you still offer
your left hand, eh?"
"What would you have! it's not my fault that I can't use my right."
"Why the devil do you want to fall on the stairs? You're too
careless--and the day after your wedding, too! I'll stake my head you
were running to your wife?"
"Just so!" Auguste replied, with a glance at Fanny, who simply smiled,
without raising her eyes from her embroidery frame.
"I was sure of it! It was his haste, his love for you, belle dame, which
caused his accident. Ah! your eyes are very dangerous! But, after all,
as love caused the destruction of Troy, it may well make a man slip on
the stairs."
"Monsieur de la Beriniere, pray come here a moment."
"Gad! Madame de Mirallon can't seem to get enough of me this evening.
It's a conspiracy! Can she have conceived the idea of monopolizing me?"
And the count, who had made these remarks in an undertone, added aloud:
"But, madame, I see that Monsieur Batonnin is no longer your partner;
Monsieur Gerbault has taken his place, so you can have no reason to
complain now."
"Ah! what a cruel man you are! I wanted to show you an extraordinary
hand."
"Mon Dieu! she has shown me her hand often enough!" muttered the count,
turning toward young De Raincy; "I don't care to see it any more."
Auguste, having shaken hands with his father-in-law, and said a word or
two to the different guests, went up to his wife and tapped her gently
on the cheek.
"You are making me a piece of furniture, I see, madame," he said; "that
is well done of you!"
"Oh! that would take too long," rejoined Fanny, looking up at her
husband as she would have looked at the merest acquaintance; "it's a
stool, that's all."
"Mon Dieu! what are you doing with that newspaper spread out before
you?"
"I am posting myself as to the prices of stocks, my dear."
"That's a most entertaining occupation for a woman."
As he spoke, Auguste took the paper, crumpled it in his hands, and
tossed it into a corner of the salon; Fanny watched him while he did it,
then glanced at her sister, and said under her breath:
"You see, he doesn't want me to look at the market reports. But I shall
look at some other paper--that's all."
"Does your arm still pain you, brother?" Adolphine asked Monleard,
having observed his thoughtful expression.
"No, little sister, no. I thank you for being good enough to take some
interest in it. There are people who take more interest in the rise and
fall of stocks than in the wound I received; and yet----"
He paused, as if he were afraid of saying too much; but Adolphine had
fully grasped the significance of his words, and she whispered to her
sister:
"Your husband is vexed because you didn't ask him about his wound."
"Let me alone, pray! Haven't I seen my husband to-day? I fancy that the
condition of his arm hasn't changed in a few hours."
"No matter; it isn't nice of you not to show more interest; for, after
all, it was on your account that that duel took place."
"Oh! I beg you, Adolphine, don't talk to me like that; you set my nerves
on edge! For several days, my husband has been in a very disagreeable
mood; as I cannot be the cause of it, I don't worry about it in the
least; indeed, I even pretend not to notice it."
"If I were in your place, I would ask him the cause of it."
"Oh! I should be very sorry if I did! My gentleman is capricious, it
seems; so much the worse for him!"
"If I am not mistaken, you promised to sing for us, mademoiselle," said
Monsieur de la Beriniere, who had once more escaped from Madame de
Mirallon and hastened to Adolphine's side.
"Mon Dieu! monsieur, if it will give you any pleasure, I will gladly
sing; but it will disturb the whist."
"Sing away!" said Monsieur Gerbault; "we will stuff our ears."
"Thanks, papa!"
"There's a father who doesn't say what he thinks, I am sure."
While Adolphine took her place at the piano, young Anatole said to
Monleard:
"Ith it true that Morithel hath run away?"
"Why, yes!"
"The devil! And he'th carried off thix hundred thouthand francth, they
thay."
"Something like that."
"You had thome buthineth relathionth with him; haven't you lotht
anything by him?"
"No--a trifle--some thirty thousand francs or so."
"A trifle like that would embarrath me thadly! To be thure, I'm not a
capitalitht like you."
Auguste bit his lips and took a seat by the piano. Adolphine sang a
lovely romanza by Nadaud. Her voice was sweet and well modulated; in a
word, it was a sympathetic voice, and, furthermore, its possessor had an
agreeable habit of pronouncing distinctly the words she sang; which
increased twofold the pleasure of those who listened to her.
Auguste's face lighted up a little. Young Anatole ceased to gaze at his
hands; the count seemed fascinated, and did not once remove his eyes
from the singer. At last, Madame de Mirallon exclaimed:
"It's your play, Monsieur Batonnin; do, for heaven's sake, attend to the
game!"
"A thousand pardons, madame; I was listening to the singing."
"But we are not singing, monsieur!"
"Thank God!" muttered Monsieur Clairval.
"What's that! Why did you say: 'Thank God!' Monsieur Clairval?"
"Because, if we were all singing, madame, we should not have the
pleasure of hearing mademoiselle."
"You see that I am disturbing the game," said Adolphine.
"No, no; pray go on, mademoiselle! As if people could play whist for two
minutes without a dispute! You are the pretext at this moment, that's
all."
Adolphine continued to sing. The game of whist came to an end, and
Madame de Mirallon lost again. She left the table in a pet, exclaiming:
"I certainly will give up playing whist!"
"Do you know my favorite game?" said Monsieur Gerbault; "it's bezique."
"Fie, fie! a messroom game!"
"I don't know anything about that; but piquet is a messroom game, too,
which doesn't prevent its being a very fine game. I've heard people say
of lansquenet: 'It's a footman's game!' the same thing has been said of
ecarte--but that doesn't prevent those games from being played in the
salons. For my part, I believe in playing the game that amuses us,
without disturbing ourselves about its origin."
"I am wild over bezique, too," cried Monsieur de la Beriniere; "and, if
you will allow me, Monsieur Gerbault, I shall take great pleasure in
playing a game with you."
"Whenever you choose, monsieur le comte, you will be welcome."
"That's a game I am very fond of, too," said Monsieur Batonnin.
"I am not thure whether I know it, but I think not."
"Very well, messieurs," said Fanny; "the next time, we'll have a bezique
table for those who like it.--How is it with you, Auguste; do you play
it?"
"I? What? what game is that?" replied Monleard, who had not listened to
the conversation.
"Bezique."
"No. Oh! yes, I played it yesterday."
"My son-in-law is distraught this evening."
They talked a few moments more, then all the guests took leave of the
young husband and wife. But, as she went away, Adolphine could not
resist the desire to say to her sister, in an undertone:
"Do be more affectionate with your husband. He is unhappy, I assure
you."
"And I assure you," rejoined Fanny, "that that's none of my affair; as
if a woman must be forever worrying about her husband's looks! That
would not be a very entertaining occupation!"
XXI
A MAIDEN'S REVERIES
More than a fortnight had elapsed since the Monleard's whist party, at
which Adolphine had sung several romanzas. But her sweet voice had made
a deep impression upon the Comte de la Beriniere, also upon young
Anatole de Raincy; it had even caused a quickening of the heart-beats of
Monsieur Batonnin, the gentleman who played whist so poorly, but who was
said to have a much clearer comprehension of business, which, indeed,
was his profession, for he held himself out as a business agent.
Adolphine was alone in a small salon, much less sumptuous than her
sister's, but very comfortable none the less. I need not say that there
was a piano in it: that has become an indispensable article of
furniture; we see them even in the domiciles of concierges who have
daughters at the Conservatoire.
Adolphine held a book in her hand, but she was not reading it; she was
musing, and her face still wore a sad expression. Upon what subject can
a maiden of eighteen muse? Everybody will conclude that her heart was
engrossed by a tender sentiment. And yet, no man had ever paid court to
Adolphine, no one had ever observed any youthful exquisite paying
assiduous attention to her. But all love affairs do not begin in the
same way; they do not all follow the beaten paths; there are secret,
unavowed sentiments which those who inspire them are very far from
suspecting; and when it is a virtuous maiden's heart in which one of
those profound attachments takes root, she suffers all the more because
of the pains she takes to conceal it.
Adolphine passed her hand across her brow, as if to brush away the
thoughts that made her sad; she took up her book again, and for a few
minutes tried to read; then placed it beside her, saying to herself:
"It's of no use for me to try to distract my thoughts--I cannot do it. I
used to be so fond of reading! This book is intensely interesting, they
say, and I have no idea what I'm reading; nothing interests me now! even
music no longer has any charm for me; my poor piano is neglected;
everything is a bore. Mon Dieu! shall I always be like this? Oh! no,
that would be ghastly! It will pass away; it must pass away! Father has
already noticed several times that I seemed sad, and it worries him; he
thinks that I am sick. Oh! I don't want to make him uneasy. But it isn't
my fault; I do all that I possibly can to drive out of my mind the
memory of--that person--and it keeps coming back. And yet, I know
perfectly well that there's no sense in it--that I'm a little fool. It's
of no use for me to argue--I cannot cure myself!"
The door of the salon opened; it was Monsieur Gerbault. The girl
hurriedly wiped away the tears that were rolling down her cheeks, and
strove to assume a smiling expression, as she went to meet her father.
"I have come to tell you, Adolphine, that we shall have two guests at
dinner to-day."
"You are very late in telling me, father. But, no matter! I will go and
tell Madeleine."
"I couldn't tell you any earlier; I met Monsieur Batonnin only a moment
ago. He said: 'I am going to play a game of bezique with you this
evening.' I said: 'Come and dine with us, informally.'"
"Monsieur Batonnin! I don't care much for that young man."
"Still he is very gallant--and so courteous."
"He is forever paying compliments--it's a horrible bore! And then, he
always has a smile on his face. Tell me, papa, is that natural? Can
there be anyone in the world who is always satisfied and happy?"
"I should say that it was rather difficult. However, there are optimists
who look at the bright side of everything."
"For my part, I believe that those people are not sincere, that they
simply make a point of concealing what they think.--Who is the other
one, father?"
"Monsieur Clairval."
"I am very fond of him; he isn't complimentary, at all events, and yet
that doesn't prevent his being agreeable. He has plenty of wit, and
doesn't flaunt it in everybody's face. I do like that so much--wit that
doesn't parade itself!"
"But, my child, if one has wit without showing it, I should say that it
was precisely equivalent to having none at all."
"Oh! it always leaks out, father, here and there, even if it's only in
the smile."
"I just missed inviting Monsieur de la Beriniere, too."
"Oh! papa, how fortunate it is that you missed it!"
"Why so, pray? The count is very pleasant. He's a very distinguished man
in all respects."
"I don't say that he isn't, but for a count we should have had to make
preparations; and then, he has been coming to see us quite often of
late."
"And that bores you?"
"It doesn't amuse me overmuch."
"My dear girl, I hoped, by inviting a friend or two to dinner, to
brighten you up, to give you a little diversion; for you have looked as
if you weren't feeling well for some time. Tell me, are you sick?"
"Why, no, dear father; I am not sick, I am not in pain. I assure you
that I am in my ordinary condition."
"Good! so much the better! Still, it seems to me that you're a little
changed."
"Oh! you know one has days--when the autumn comes.--And you didn't
invite Fanny and her husband, while you were in the mood?"
"Yes, I did. I was going to their house when I met Auguste. But they
can't come; they are going to a grand dinner. Nothing but festivities,
gorgeous parties!"
"All the better! it amuses Fanny; she's so fond of all that sort of
thing!"
"True, true! Fanny is leading the life she used to dream of; she ought
to be happy. But it seems to me that her husband has been in rather a
gloomy mood lately; he always has such a startled, preoccupied manner;
and when you speak to him, he hardly listens to you."
"I think that you're mistaken, father; Fanny's husband isn't of an
expansive nature; his manner is cold, a little haughty, perhaps."
"Yes, I know it; but he likes to cut a brilliant figure, to dazzle other
people by his magnificence; and that sometimes carries a man too far."
"What do you mean by that?"
"I have been told that he is speculating heavily on the Bourse."
"If he has the means to do it, it's all right; he must know what he's
about."
"Batonnin was telling me just now that Monleard must have lost a great
deal of money by the failure--or the flight, I don't quite know which it
was--of one Morissel."
"Ah! Monsieur Batonnin told you that? I notice that disagreeable news is
generally brought by smiling faces and honeyed words."
"I prefer to believe that my son-in-law's fortune has not sustained such
a serious loss."
"After all, father, in business a man can't always make money, can he?"
"Hoity-toity! here you are talking almost as well as your sister.--By
the way, I met Monsieur Grandcourt too."
"Monsieur Grandcourt?"
"Well, well! what's the matter now? You're as pale as a ghost. Don't you
feel well?"
"Yes, father. I am all right, I promise you. What did Monsieur
Grandcourt have to say?"
"Oh! he doesn't speculate! He's a prudent, intelligent man. He does an
excellent business. His house is prosperous and is extending its
connections every day."
"And his nephew--that poor Monsieur Gustave--did he tell you anything
about him?"
"He is still in Spain."
"But when is he coming back? If he should come to see us--would that
annoy you?"
"My dear Adolphine, in the first place, after what has happened, it's
not at all likely that Gustave will ever come to our house again. That
young man was in love with your sister. For a moment, he hoped that she
would accept him for her husband, then his hopes were disappointed. He
saw Fanny take Monleard in preference to him, and he must have suffered
doubly--in his love and in his self-esteem. What do you suppose he will
come to our house again for?--in search of memories, of regrets? No, our
company would have no charms for him now."
"Ah! so you think, father, that our company would no longer be agreeable
to him? But he was much attached to you."
"As the father of the young lady whose husband he wished to be; I know
all about that."