“So you are here, my dear Blémont? I am delighted that you are; I didn’t
expect the pleasure of meeting you. So you know Leberger, do you?”
“Yes, he comes to my house sometimes.”
“His ball is very fine. I brought my wife; look, she is over there
dancing.”
“I have seen her.”
“Marguerite did not want to come; but I lost my temper, and at last she
consented. In the first place, Leberger told me: ‘It is just a small
affair, without any formality.’ Anyone would expect that, at a
bachelor’s quarters; and after all, my wife is quite as good as other
women here. The instant that I call her my wife, no one should presume
to call her anything else; and if we could know what all the people in
this room have done, I fancy that we should learn some fine things.”
“You know my ideas on that subject, my dear Ernest; I am not one of
those who believe in virtue only after a visit to the notary’s office.
But no one here knows that you are not married, and it’s, not one of
those things which there is any need of proclaiming.”
“Of course not. Just look at Marguerite; see how lovely she is! I was
frightened, because I thought she would be awkward before people; she
makes a better figure than I expected. I said to her before we came
into the room: ‘My dear love, just persuade yourself that you are
better-looking than all the people whom you are to see here, and then
their staring will not frighten you.’”
“That is what a woman should always say to herself, even when she goes
to court.”
“Madame your wife is not here?”
“I beg pardon, she is.”
“Oh! then I must go and bid her good-evening.”
“I think that she is dancing now.--There are some very amusing faces
here, are there not?”
“Oh, yes! there are some fine subjects for a farce.”
I trusted that Ernest would forget to pay his respects to my wife; but
how was I to prevent him? The quadrille came to an end. I took advantage
of the moment when the ladies were being escorted to their seats, and I
went to Madame Ernest, who luckily was far away from my wife.
My old neighbor seemed overjoyed to see me.
“Do sit down here with me a moment,” she said; “I am so glad to find
someone that I know! I am lost in the midst of all these people. And
poor Ernest doesn’t dare to leave me. I am afraid that it is boring
him.--Do you think that my hair looks well?”
“Very well, madame.”
“It seems to me that it looks unbecoming. I much prefer myself in the
little cap that I always wear at home. But Ernest insisted upon bringing
me, so of course I had to make a toilet.”
“I beg pardon, madame, I should be very pleased to stay with you; but,
you see, my wife is with me----”
“Madame Blémont is here! dear me! and I am keeping you. Oh! do show me
your Eugénie; I should like so much to see her.”
“At this moment there are too many people between us. But Ernest knows
her, he will show her to you. Excuse me, but I shall have the pleasure
of seeing you again.”
I left Madame Ernest; she probably considered me far from courteous. Mon
Dieu! how horrible it is to have a suspicious wife; a man does not know
what to do nor how to behave in society.
At that moment Bélan clutched my arm and said:
“Good-evening, my friend; you know that I am not a cuckold.”
“Bless my soul! did I ever say that you were, my dear Bélan?”
“My friend, I have my reasons for telling you this. Those blackguardly
Girauds have made most shameful remarks. My mother-in-law wanted me to
fight them.”
“Fight Giraud and his wife?”
“I mean the husband, of course; I was anxious to do it myself; but my
wife Armide insisted that it wasn’t worth while.--But those people are
here; and when I see them I cannot contain myself.”
“Mon Dieu! do you mean to say that you believe everything that is told
you? Perhaps the Girauds have never mentioned you.”
“Oh! yes, they have; they have even--Excuse me, my mother-in-law is
beckoning to me.”
Bélan left me. I was still laughing at what he had said when I saw
Ernest talking with my wife. Well! there was no way of preventing that.
After all, I was very foolish to torment myself when I had no reason for
self-reproach.
Ernest walked away from Eugénie, and I went to her. From her manner
toward me, I saw that she knew that Madame Firmin was there.
“I did not want to come to this ball,” said Eugénie; “it was clearly a
presentiment. I should have followed my inclination, and then I should
not have come into contact with people whom I don’t want to see. You
have been talking with your former neighbor, monsieur, of course?”
“My neighbor? Oh! I beg your pardon--you mean Madame Firmin.”
“I know that she is here,--her _monsieur_ was good enough to tell me so
just now.”
“It is true that Madame Firmin is here and that I have been to say
good-evening to her.”
“How pleasant it is for me to be at a party with that woman!”
“I give you my word that, if I had known that she was to be here
to-night, I would not have urged you to come.”
“Oh! I believe you! but you need not let that embarrass you, monsieur.
Ah! that is she, no doubt, just passing with her Monsieur Ernest. What
an ordinary face! anyone could see what she is. But pray go, monsieur;
perhaps she wants to speak to you. She is staring at me, I believe, the
impertinent creature! I beg you, monsieur, at least to forbid her to
look at me in that way.”
I was on the rack; Ernest and Marguerite had passed very close to us,
and I trembled lest they had heard Eugénie. I walked away and took a
seat at an écarté table, where I remained for more than an hour.
When I returned to the ballroom, I passed Madame Ernest. She looked at
me and smiled; evidently she had not overheard my wife; I walked toward
her, for I had made up my mind, and I was no longer disturbed about what
people might think.
“Do you not dance, Monsieur Blémont?”
“Not often.”
“I have seen your wife; she is very pretty, but she has rather a serious
expression. Is she always like that?”
“No, she has a headache.”
“Aren’t you going to dance with her?”
“She does not lack partners.”
“I don’t care if she doesn’t; I have been invited to dance a great deal;
but I insisted on dancing with Ernest too. I haven’t missed a quadrille
yet.”
“Are you enjoying yourself here?”
“Pretty well. But I prefer to be at home in our chimney corner.”
A partner came up and claimed Madame Ernest’s hand. I sauntered about
the ballroom. My wife was dancing with a very good-looking little dandy.
Bélan was standing opposite his wife, at whom he gazed with admiration,
while tall Armide seemed vexed to have her husband for her vis-à-vis.
Giraud joined me and said in a sly tone:
“It seems to me that Bélan has shrunk since he was married; his wife
crushes him.”
“You are unkind, Giraud.”
“Just look at the mother-in-law yonder. Either she has been weeping, is
weeping, or is about to weep.”
“Perhaps it is with pleasure.”
“Oh, yes, she has a very merry expression! How Bélan must enjoy himself
with those two women! It hasn’t brought him good luck, not inviting us
to his wedding. By the way, the marquis is not with them. How does that
happen?”
“What marquis?”
“Ha! ha! you pretend not to know, do you? It is everybody’s secret.--But
I believe that my daughter wants something to eat.”
Marguerite was right: the world is very unkind!--The quadrille came to
an end. I was standing near my wife, although I was not speaking to her.
Bélan stopped beside us, and, while passing the guests in review,
pointed to Marguerite, saying:
“There’s one of the prettiest women in the room!”
“You have wretched taste, monsieur,” cried Eugénie. “How can anyone call
that woman pretty? And what a style too! anyone can see what she is.”
“What? What is she, pray? Do you know her?” Bélan instantly made haste
to ask.
“No, I don’t know her; but I know what she is, and----”
“Madame,” I interposed, “why do you feel called upon to speak ill of a
person who has never injured you?”
“Never injured me? oh! you are pleased to say that, monsieur; but I may
at least feel offended that Monsieur Leberger invites his friends’
mistresses to a ball that he gives for us.”
“The deuce! what do you say? That little woman----”
“Is Monsieur Firmin’s mistress.”
“I was told that she was his wife.”
“And she is his wife,” I said, with an angry glance at Eugénie. But she
continued in an ironical tone:
“No, Monsieur Bélan, that little woman, whom you are kind enough to call
pretty, is not Monsieur Firmin’s wife; and monsieur knows that better
than anyone, although he tells you the contrary.”
“What? Do you mean that----”
I did not listen to what Bélan said; I turned my back upon Eugénie. I
did not believe that she was spiteful, but what she had just done
disgusted me. At that moment I believe that I detested her.
The dancing continued, but many people had gone. I walked about the
studio. It seemed to me that I heard several people whispering to one
another, and at the same time pointing at Madame Ernest. Bélan was quite
capable of having gone about to tell all his acquaintances what my wife
had told him. Poor Marguerite! she was pretty, so they were overjoyed to
calumniate her. They would have been more indulgent if she had been
ugly.
There was to be but one more quadrille. The orchestra gave the signal.
Madame Ernest had a partner, who led her to a place opposite my wife. I
saw that Eugénie instantly led her partner away and took her place
elsewhere. Thereupon Madame Ernest’s partner led her to a place opposite
Madame Bélan. Tall Armide did as my wife had done; she turned on her
heel and returned to her seat, crying in quite a loud tone:
“I prefer not to dance.”
I was indignant. I hastily took the hand of the first lady I saw,
without even taking time to invite her; I led her away and we took our
places directly opposite Madame Ernest and her partner. Thereupon my
wife did as Madame Bélan had done; she left the quadrille, darting
glances at me to which I paid very little heed. While we were dancing,
Ernest approached me. His face was red and his eyes gleaming.
“My friend,” he said to me in an undertone, “I thank you for what you
have just done; I shall not forget it.”
“What do you mean?”
“Oh! you must have seen the ostentation with which those people refused
to stand opposite my wife. Indeed, I overheard some words from that
little man’s tall wife, and I had difficulty in restraining myself.”
“You are mistaken, Ernest.”
“Oh, no! she is afraid of compromising herself by standing opposite a
woman who is not married! what a pitiful thing! If I chose to
investigate the conduct of many of these married ladies, I fancy that I
should make some very fine discoveries.”
Ernest talked quite loud and glanced ironically about. I was afraid that
someone would hear him; I dreaded a scene. Luckily the quadrille came to
an end. Little Marguerite had also noticed that several ladies smiled
meaningly as they looked at her. She was not at her ease. She said to
Ernest immediately after the dance:
“We are going now, aren’t we, my dear? It is late, and I am tired.”
“No, we will not go yet,” replied Ernest sharply; “I should be very
sorry to go now; we will stay until the last.”
His wife was not in the habit of replying, and besides, she saw plainly
that there was something wrong. Firmin took my arm and led me away. We
walked around the studio. I tried to divert his thoughts from the
subject which engrossed them, but Giraud came toward us, rubbing his
hands.
“There is plenty of gossip here,” he said to me; “those Bélans are
evil-tongued, I tell you.”
“My dear Giraud, I care little about gossip, and----”
“Do you see that young woman in blue over there, with blue flowers in
her hair?”
Giraud was pointing to Madame Ernest. I did not reply, and I tried to
drag Firmin away in another direction; but he dropped my arm and walked
up to Giraud, saying:
“What have you heard about that lady? I am very fond of gossip myself.”
“They say that she isn’t married; that she’s the mistress of a young
author who is here, and who introduces her everywhere as his wife.”
In vain I looked at Giraud and made signs to him; he was not looking at
me, and he continued to speak to Firmin:
“People don’t like it because Leberger invited her to his ball, and they
say that she doesn’t amount to much; that she has been an embroiderer,
or a lacemaker; someone even declared that she used to be in the ballet
at one of the boulevard theatres.”
“Monsieur,” said Firmin, seizing Giraud’s arm and squeezing it hard,
“pray go to all those people who have made such remarks, and tell them
from me that they are blackguards; that, although that young woman is
not married, she is none the less worthy of esteem; that she is a
thousand times more respectable than many lawful wives; and should I say
to the ladies here, in the words of the Scriptures: ‘Let her who is
without sin among you cast the first stone,’ I fancy, monsieur, that
even your wife herself would not dare to stone my poor Marguerite.”
Giraud was sorely embarrassed; he realized what a fool he had made of
himself, and he confounded himself in apologies. But Ernest absolutely
insisted that he should point out the people who had made the remarks,
and the business agent hastened to designate Bélan. Thereupon Ernest
started toward the little man; I tried in vain to hold him back; he
would not listen to me. I followed him, to try to adjust the affair.
Bélan was in the act of handing a glass of orgeat to his wife. Ernest
brushed roughly against him, and jostled him so that the glass and its
contents fell upon the superb Armide’s dress. She uttered an
exclamation; her mother uttered two. Bélan turned to Ernest and
murmured:
“What the deuce! be careful what you are doing!”
Ernest simply smiled and said:
“That was very unlucky!”
Tall Armide saw the smile, and said to her husband:
“That man did it on purpose; he doesn’t even condescend to deny it.”
And the mother-in-law added:
“I trust, Monsieur de Bélan, that this is not the end of this business,
and that my daughter’s dress will not be ruined with impunity. This
gentleman must apologize,--he must!”
Bélan had become much less belligerent since he was married; however, he
left his wife and walked up to Ernest, who had halted a few steps away.
“Monsieur, you have spoiled my wife’s dress, and I am surprised that you
do not at least apologize, like a man of breeding.”
“Monsieur, you and your wife have tried to destroy my wife’s reputation;
a dress may be washed, but slanderous words are not to be effaced for a
long while; so that it is for you, monsieur, to apologize to me.”
Bélan was speechless. I made haste to intervene between them.
“My dear Ernest,” I said, “Bélan is guilty of thoughtlessness only; he
has simply repeated what he overheard.”
“Certainly; I only repeated what Madame Blémont told me,” said Bélan. “I
invented nothing. Notwithstanding that, monsieur, if you demand
satisfaction----”
“No, no, Bélan; Ernest sees plainly that I am the only one with whom he
has to deal, and you will offend me seriously by interfering in matters
which concern myself alone.”
Bélan walked away to join his ladies. I do not know what he said to
them, but he soon left the ball with them. As they went out, his
mother-in-law cast a withering glance at Ernest.
I had remained by his side; he was lost in thought and said nothing to
me. I first broke the silence.
“Ernest, my wife is the cause of all your disagreeable experiences this
evening. I cannot explain the motives which have led her to act thus. I
do not need to tell you that I disapprove of her conduct; but that
probably will not suffice, and I am ready to give you satisfaction.”
“No, my dear Blémont; we are not going to fight just because your wife
has made some unkind remarks; I do not need to have you explain her
motives, for I understand them perfectly.”
“You understand them?”
“I can guess them, at all events. Your wife is jealous of Marguerite.”
“Who can have told you that?”
“Look you, my dear fellow; a man does not get to be an author without
studying the human heart a little, and especially the female heart.”
“It is only too true; my wife is horribly jealous of all the women whom
I knew before my marriage. But for that, do you suppose that I would not
have invited you and your wife to come to see us?”
“I have guessed all that. I am sorry for you, my friend, but I bear you
no ill will.”
“I am going to invite your wife for the next contradance.”
“No, for it will make your wife unhappy.”
“She has not hesitated to make me unhappy; and I choose to prove that I
have no share in her spiteful remarks.”
I invited Madame Ernest for the quadrille; she accepted, saying with a
laugh:
“I am very glad that you have asked me, monsieur; I thought that you did
not consider that I danced well enough for you.”
“I am going to dance opposite you,” said Ernest; “then I shall be sure
that you will have a vis-à-vis.”
The violins struck up. I took my partner’s hand. There were only enough
people left to form one set. All our acquaintances had gone.
I looked about for my wife. She was ghastly pale, and that made me
wretched; I felt all my anger fade away. I was almost sorry that I was
dancing; but she should not have driven me to the wall.
Suddenly Eugénie rose and came toward me. What was she going to do?
“Monsieur, I do not feel well, and I want to go.”
“We will go after the quadrille, madame.”
“No, monsieur, I want to go at once.”
Marguerite overheard my wife, and instantly said:
“Monsieur Blémont, if madame your wife is not well, go, I beg you; do
not mind me.”
“No, madame; I shall have the pleasure of dancing with you; then we will
go.”
“What, monsieur,” said Eugénie satirically; “you do not come when madame
gives you leave?”
“Madame, that is enough; not a word more, I beg you.”
“Very good! that is all, monsieur. I will leave you. Dance with this
woman; make her your mistress again as she used to be when she lived
under the eaves, in the attics of your house! I am going home.”
And she did go. But Madame Ernest had heard all; Eugénie had spoken loud
enough to be sure of being overheard. Marguerite had turned red and pale
by turns. She hung her head, and I thought that I could see tears
glistening in her eyes. But she quickly recovered herself, wiped her
eyes with her handkerchief, and tried to resume a smiling expression as
she looked at her husband.
I was thunderstruck and enraged at the same time. I did not know where I
was; and in the midst of all that perturbation of spirit, I had to
dance!
“Well, it is your turn,” called Ernest. “Forward! what are you thinking
about?”
Luckily he had heard nothing. I took advantage of a moment when we were
not dancing, to say to my partner in an undertone:
“Madame, you heard what my wife said, I see. I do not ask you to forgive
her; she is unpardonable, jealousy has disturbed her reason; but be good
enough to believe that I am more hurt than you by what she has said.”
“I confess, Monsieur Blémont, that I was so surprised, so shocked!--To
call me your mistress! Great heaven! who could have said that I had been
your mistress?”
“I trust that you do not think it was anything that I have ever said to
her, madame?”
“Oh, no indeed, monsieur! But who can have told her that?”
“Nobody told her, madame. I tell you again, that jealousy alone can
inspire such calumny.”
“My attic! she thought to make me blush by reminding me that I once
lived in an attic. Oh! I don’t blush for it; there is often more virtue,
more refinement in an attic than in a boudoir! But do you mean to say
that your wife is jealous of me?”
“Yes, madame, ever since I was unfortunate enough to tell her of the
evenings which I used to pass with you and Ernest. If you knew how
unhappy her jealousy makes me! Alas! the happy days of our married life
passed very quickly!”
“Oh! I am very sorry for you, Monsieur Blémont. I pity your wife too,
and I forgive her, for Ernest did not hear what she said. But I beg you,
never let him know what your wife said!”
“Most certainly, I shall not be the one to tell him!”
“Oh dear! I wish I had not come to this ball. I should have done much
better to stay at home.”
That fatal dance ended at last. Everybody went away. Ernest and his wife
bade me good-night. I read in Marguerite’s eyes how glad she was to go.
My wife had gone. Who could have escorted her? Could she have gone home
alone? One thing was certain, that she was no longer there.
Leberger came to me and said:
“Are you looking for your wife? She felt rather indisposed while you
were dancing, and Dulac took her home. You know Dulac?--a tall
fellow,--one of our amateur orchestra.”
“I do not know the gentleman, but I will thank him when I see him.”
“He is a good fellow, who plays the violin very well. I will bring him
to one of your receptions if you wish.”
“Do so. Good-night; it is late.”
“It was rather a pleasant affair, and people enjoyed themselves; don’t
you think so?”
“Oh, yes! I enjoyed myself amazingly.”
I returned home. I expected a scene; it is always an advantage to be
prepared. If only my wife might be in bed and asleep! But no, I heard
her walking back and forth in the salon. Aha! I met the maid carrying a
mattress. Madame was having a bed made for herself in her boudoir. What
a bore not to find peace and quiet at home! to have more scenes and
quarrels! And we had been married only three years and a half!
Well, I knew that I must face the storm, and I entered the salon. Madame
was in a most dishevelled condition; she almost frightened me. She was
holding a phial of salts to her nose.
I was kind enough to go to her and ask her if she were ill. She did not
answer. I was on the point of taking a light and leaving the room, when
madame sprang to her feet and planted herself in front of me.
“So you have left that woman at last, have you, monsieur?”
“I don’t know what you mean by _that woman_, madame. I danced with a
lady whom I esteem, and who has been generous enough to forgive you for
the shameful remarks that you made before her.”
“She has been generous enough to forgive me! really, that is most noble
of her! But I, monsieur, I do not forgive that lady, whom you _esteem_,
for having the assurance to dance with you in my presence. That her
clown of a husband should not object is quite worthy of him; but you,
monsieur, have you no shame?”
“Yes, madame, I was ashamed this evening, and I was ashamed because I
was the husband of a woman who behaved as you did!”
“What an abominable thing! You dare reprove me?”
“Yes, you, who slander in public a respectable woman.”
“Say a prostitute, monsieur.”
“You who publicly exhibit your absurd jealousy!”
“In truth, I am absurd to be jealous of you, you are not worth the
trouble!”
“But do not expect, madame, that I will put up with such conduct! that
you can insult my friends and that I shall keep quiet!”
“You ought to have made a scene before your mistress; that would have
pleased her.”
“You did not hesitate to humiliate me before the world; for it is
humiliating for a man to be put in the position in which I was put at
that ball.”
“I shall go nowhere else with you, monsieur; then you cannot say that I
shame you or humiliate you.”
“You will do well, madame. It is much better not to go with your husband
than to behave as you did this evening.”
“From the tone in which you speak to me, monsieur, I see who the people
are whom you have just left! You are profiting by their advice!”
Those words put the finishing touch to my exasperation. I rushed from
the salon and locked myself into the bedroom.