"I am glad you have come to your senses," he said, surlily.
"Poissy is, of coarse, an ornament of our neighbourhood." The lawyer
managed to get out the words without grimacing.
"_The_ ornament, _the_ ornament, monsieur."
"_The_ ornament, I should say."
"And the De Beaudrillarts among our most ancient families."
"Oh, con--Certainly, Monsieur Bourget, certainly. The most ancient."
"Precisely. Are you aware that you have not paid for your coffee?"
The lawyer rummaged his pockets. "I am not certain that I have enough
change with me."
"Ah, that is inconvenient," remarked M. Bourget, carelessly. "Never
mind. Antoine will trust you. And I will give you a word of advice.
Always take a little, a very little, absinthe with your coffee. It is
more wholesome. What were we talking about? Oh, it was Poissy, was it
not?"
But M. Leroux could endure no more.
"Excuse me, Monsieur Bourget, I am already late for an appointment. I
must not lose time any longer, even over such an interesting subject."
"Well, look in, and I will show you my suggestions for the north wing,"
the ex-builder called after him. "Ah, ha, there is Flechier; he might
have an idea. Flechier!"
The individual addressed, on the other side of the street, only
quickened his steps, with a wave of his hand.
"Ah, my friend, it is you! Grieved that I can't stop. Business.
Another day. Au revoir."
"What has come to the world, then, that every one is so confoundedly
busy to-day?" grumbled M. Bourget. "I should have said I knew most of
the affairs that are going on in Tours. I must go and inquire. The
house is not so agreeable, now there is no one but old Fanchon to give
one a word of welcome. However, Nathalie is a good girl, and deserves
the good-fortune I have found for her. Madame Leon de Beaudrillart--or
should it be Madame la baronne? No, certainly. There are baronesses in
plenty, but not so many Beaudrillarts. Madame Leon de Beaudrillart, nee
Bourget. Ah, it is magnificent!"
So far--it was a month after the marriage--M. Bourget had abstained
from going to Poissy. What withheld him is difficult to conjecture.
Was it a certain shyness, strangely at variance with his brusque,
sometimes brutal, bearing? This man, who had fought down opposition,
and made himself terrible to his foes--this man, who cared little what
he said himself, and laughed his great laugh when he heard what was said
of him--was it possible that the bare idea of finding himself received
on an equality at Poissy, which after all he had so largely benefited,
made him tremble like any young girl presented to royalty? Whatever it
was, and he gave no hint of his sensations to a living soul, the fact
remained that while Mme. de Beaudrillart shivered at the idea of an
invasion in which he would march round Poissy as if he were its
purchaser, he had not yet so much as set foot within its walls. His
daughter and Leon had come in two or three times to see him, and it had
given him exquisite pleasure to perceive them driving along the street
in the charming carriage which had been his wedding present to Nathalie.
The first time that he saw them he happened to be standing at his own
door, and the blood rushed to his face so violently that, all unused to
the sensation, he imagined himself ill, and put his hand out to support
himself. His greeting, however, was as brusque as ever, and neither
Nathalie nor Leon had the smallest suspicion of his emotion. The second
time he found fault with Leon for putting up the ponies at a small inn
instead of at the principal hotel.
"Not suitable," he grumbled.
"Decidedly, Nathalie, your father means you to spend your money," said
her husband, laughingly, as they drove home again, "yet he does not
afford himself too much luxury."
"He has never begrudged me anything," she said, with compunction, "and
it made me feel more than ever ashamed to-day to see him in his bare,
uncomfortable room, lonely and cold-looking, and to feel that I--I--"
She did not finish, for Leon put his head near hers and whispered:
"He should be satisfied to be your father."
She smiled, and let him murmur caressing nothings, but said, presently:
"Leon, I think my father would like to come to Poissy."
"Well, why not? Of course. Why didn't you ask him? Now that I think
of it, I believe he has never been there since our engagement. Why, it
is disgraceful! Certainly he must come. You should have fixed a day."
She laughed a little shyly. "Perhaps I should, but, to tell you the
truth, I was afraid, until you had spoken to Madame de Beaudrillart and
your sisters. Are you sure they would not object?"
He turned away his head with a momentary hesitation. Then, "My sisters
have nothing to say to it," he said, impatiently. "As for my mother,
certainly she will not object."
"But will she make it pleasant for him? You understand, Leon, that she
thinks we--my father and I--are different--not of her class. With you
near, it matters very little to me, but for my father I should feel it
another matter, and I could not endure slights for him. That was why I
said nothing to-day, though I am sure he expected it."
"We will drive in to-morrow, and carry him off."
To this she did not answer, perhaps aware that her husband had said a
little more than he meant. She only remarked:
"Will you ask your mother?"
"Certainly, or--why not you?"
"I think you might explain rather more fully--what I have just said,"
she added, with difficulty. "Unless it is to be what he would like, I
would rather he did not come--rather, even, that he thought me
ungrateful."
"Oh, you will see! My mother has a good heart; all will go well," said
Leon, confidently. He took an opportunity of saying to Mme. de
Beaudrillart, "Mother, don't you think that Monsieur Bourget should be
asked here one day?"
"Certainly, Leon, if you desire it. It is what I expected."
"Nathalie had a sort of notion that you might not like it, and that it
would not be very agreeable for him?"
She shrugged her shoulders.
"The reverse, I imagine! But what would you have me do? I cannot
transform Poissy into Monsieur Bourget's back parlour, or provide him
with the sort of companions with whom he would feel at ease."
"All that I ask," said Leon, a little hotly, "is that he should be
treated here as my wife's father."
"My dear Leon, you need not insist on the relationship. We are all
aware of it, and, indeed, I think myself that it is only proper he
should come."
"My sisters can show him the place. He is immensely proud of Poissy,
and anxious that anything in the way of repair should be done at once."
Mme. de Beaudrillart bit her lip.
"I hope you do not attend to his suggestions."
"Oh, indeed I do," said Leon, with a laugh. "I think them extremely
valuable."
"Ah, he was a builder, was he not?"
"Certainly," her son said, imperturbably, "and, luckily for us, a most
successful builder. Why, mother, you must be aware of the name he has
in Tours for shrewdness and good sense?"
"Yes, I know too well," said Mme. de Beaudrillart, impatiently, "and I
am sorry to displease you, Leon, for I am certain you acted for the
best; but I would rather, far rather, you had Monsieur de Cadanet for
your creditor than this Monsieur Bourget for your father-in-law."
"Ah, mother, but I could not part with my Nathalie. However, it is
settled, is it not? Monsieur Bourget will come, and you will be
charming to him for my sake?"
And he departed, whistling, to assure his wife that everything was
satisfactorily arranged, and that she might take the first opportunity
of inviting her father.
Nathalie drove in for him one morning, in order to bring him out for the
second breakfast, and though she was glad, it must be owned she rather
dreaded the time they would spend together, lest he should ask questions
which she might have difficulty in parrying. She need not have feared.
M. Bourget rode on the crest of exultation. He sat upright in the
carriage, looking round him, at Nathalie, at the pretty pair of grey
ponies, at the rug laid across his knees, with pride like that of a
child's. Every now and then he broke off what he was saying to remark
in a tone of profound satisfaction, "Ah, ha, this goes well! This is
something like!" To please him she called at one or two of the
principal shops, and, drawn up there, when his acquaintances passed, he
saluted them with the air of an emperor. All the way out to the chateau
he plied her with questions about Poissy, more than once mentioning
facts in its history which it displeased him to find she did not know.
"I thought you had had a proper education--certainly it cost me enough,"
he grumbled; "and here you don't even know what has happened in your own
family."
"No, it is disgraceful!" she agreed, laughing. "I must set to work at
once. There are sure to be books about it in the library. But, I
assure you, father, I try to keep up a habit of reading."
"Ah, well, that's all very well, that's as your husband pleases; but
certainly you're no business to be ignorant about what so nearly
concerns you. I tell you what, Nathalie, it's the way of all others to
vex madame. A fine woman, that! She looks a De Beaudrillart to her
fingers' ends."
The meeting and the breakfast passed off fairly. Leon was there, and
his good-humoured charm of manner succeeded in warding off one or two
dangerous subjects. Claire studied M. Bourget as if he were a specimen
of some strange species, with scarcely-veiled impertinences, which set
his daughter's cheeks burning. Felicie, on the other hand, sat mute,
her eyes on her plate. M. Bourget, who had for some time regarded her
in silence, at last touched Mme. de Beaudrillart's arm.
"The poor young lady!" he said, sympathetically. "How long has it been
so with her?"
"How?" demanded Mme. de Beaudrillart, amazed.
"That she has lost her hearing? I see she has cotton-wool in her ears.
I once tried it myself, but I don't like it; it heats the ear. Can she
talk on her fingers?"
"Felicie!" cried her mother, sharply. Claire interposed.
"It's a curious kind of intermittent deafness, monsieur, which only
seizes her at times. By-and-by, probably, it will have departed as
quickly as it came, but I am afraid you must resign yourself to her
being stone-deaf while you are here."
"When you know us better, Monsieur Bourget, you will find that we have
many peculiarities," said Leon, pleasantly.
"Do you like this wine? It has been brought out especially in your
honour."
"Ah," said his father-in-law, eagerly; "it is old?"
"Very old."
M. Bourget looked at his glass with admiration. To tell the truth, he
preferred the sourer vintage to which he was accustomed, but it gave him
deep delight to be drinking ancient wine from the cellars of Poissy.
"Nathalie," said Leon again, "we must show your father your room--"
"And the north wing. That should be the first to be repaired,"
announced M. Bourget, loudly. Claire lifted her eyebrows.
"Is Poissy, then, to be taken in hand at once?"
"Certainly. I hope so," said the ex-builder, in the same strong voice.
"As it is, I am afraid there will be difficulties; but if it had been
left another winter--well, certainly, it would have been very bad. And
the plaster-work in this room, how it has suffered! Still, there is a
man I know very clever at such jobs, and if the baron will put it into
his hands I can answer that he will make a good job of it, and not be
unreasonable."
Mme. de Beaudrillart rose, abruptly.
"Monsieur Bourget will, I am sure, excuse me, if I leave him to the care
of my son and Madame Leon. There will be coffee later in the
drawing-room. Come, Claire!"
"No, mamma, I remain." She added in a slightly lowered tone, "Some one
must protect our poor Poissy."
Felicie, with downcast eyes, rose to follow her mother, when a shout in
her ear made her start violently.
"Try syringing, mademoiselle. That did me a great deal of good." He
added, to Nathalie, "You should look after your sister. I can see she
wants rousing and fresh air, and eats no more than a fly. Now, Monsieur
de Beaudrillart, I am at your service."
He was completely in his element when going over the chateau, with the
eye of a lynx for whatever was wanting, and an absolute horror for the
tiny plants which, thrusting their rootlets between the stones, added so
much grace to the walls. Where they were within reach he dragged them
ruthlessly out, in spite of Claire's remonstrances.
"Oh yes, mademoiselle, very pretty, and all the rest of it, no doubt;
but do you know what they effect, these little mischief-makers? It is
they that loosen the stones, and bring the walls of Poissy rattling
about the ears of those that come after you. And it is those others of
whom we have to think," he announced loudly, proceeding to demolish a
small tuft of harts-tongue, by prodding it with the point of his stick.
"For myself, I have no doubt that the whole building should be scraped.
However, at any rate, Monsieur de Beaudrillart, you will set about what
is necessary at once."
Leon, catching sight of his sister's face, felt his own momentary
irritation subside. Besides, were not Nathalie's eyes imploring him?
"Certainly," he said, quietly. "You have, no doubt, the right, Monsieur
Bourget, to speak."
"Ah, and I know what I am talking about, too. See here, monsieur,
Poissy is as dear to me as to you."
"Really? You do us too much honour."
"Not at all. But I think of the future, which you young people are too
apt to forget, and I want to see matters put straight. Now that you can
afford it, that must be your business. Show me the land that was sold
last year."
Somewhat to his dismay, Leon found that his father-in-law was perfectly
acquainted with all his enforced sales, and the value of the property
parted with. His remarks were shrewd. "You had no reason to blame
Monsieur Georges, who was an honest man;" and at another time, "You set
store on your wine. In your place I should have preferred to keep the
vineyard," or "Ah, Paris ate up this farm. She swallows without
difficulty, our fine Paris!" Leon, who was not easily abashed, felt as
if there were something terrible in the square ungainly figure, marching
from point to point, and seeing everything. Had Claire not been there,
Nathalie would have attempted a diversion; as it was she remained
silent, hoping, for her husband's sake, that the ordeal once over would
not be repeated. At last M. Bourget stood still.
"Now for the chateau," he said.
Here, except where his sharp eyes espied falling plaster or a stain of
wet, the awe of Poissy was upon him, and placed him at a disadvantage.
It was soon evident, however, that the simplicity of the furniture
shocked his sense of what was fitting, and in Nathalie's own room he
gave this feeling a voice.
"Hum, ha, oh, very nice, very nice; but couldn't you have had a little
more gold about?"
"You know I was never very fond of gold," she said, with a smile.
"If you didn't like it in our house, you couldn't have any objection
here. It seems to me that you want cheering up a bit. Your curtains,
now. Wouldn't tapestry be richer than chintz?"
"Oh, my curtains are charming!" she said, brightly. "Admit that nothing
could be prettier than the whole effect! But you must come into the
salon; that room will delight you."
In the salon sat Mme. de Beaudrillart, very upright, and with more state
than was ordinary. The coffee was brought in an antique silver service.
M. Bourget looked at his cup with admiration, and choked down his
desire to ask for a teaspoonful of absinthe. Leon had vanished to avoid
hearing possible sharp speeches, and nothing could have been more frigid
and uncomfortable than the conversation when the guest again descanted
upon the work of repair which should be speedily undertaken at Poissy.
"My son must do what he thinks best, monsieur," announced Mme. de
Beaudrillart, with her grandest air; "at any rate, he is more likely to
know what is needed than a stranger. For myself, I think the less done
the better."
M. Bourget stared at her, set down his cup, jumped up, and marched to
the window. There he stood, the delicate lines about him contrasting
strangely with the sturdy squareness of his figure.
"Then, madame, permit me to say that you must be ignorant of the
principles of building. You see that wall!" He waved a thick hand in
its direction.
"Well, monsieur?" returned Mme. de Beaudrillart, glancing languidly.
"It already bulges, and in another twenty years it will be down, unless
something is done. Perhaps you do not believe me."
"Oh, monsieur, on the contrary," put in Claire. "We know that you are
an undisputed authority in such matters."
If he perceived the taunt, he disregarded it. He had made his point,
and it appeared to him impossible that it should be ignored. "Well,
then?" he said, inquiringly.
"All this takes money."
"True enough." He rubbed his hands. "But now that you have money?"
There was a sort of rustle in the room; no one answered. Nathalie
flushed crimson. To her relief a servant entered with a message from
Leon.
"Monsieur le baron regrets exceedingly that he has been called away on
business, and cannot himself have the pleasure of driving Monsieur
Bourget back to Tours, but the coachman awaits orders."
"I will drive my father myself," said Nathalie, quickly. "Shall we
start at once, father?" It was too much for her strength; but pride,
different from the pride of the Beaudrillarts, though quite as intense,
insisted upon clinging to him at this juncture. When they were in the
carriage, he looked at his hand.
"Damme!" he said; "so that is how great folks shake hands, is it?"
"How?" asked his daughter, trying to smile.
"With two fingers, to be sure. You must learn that trick, my girl."