Six months had passed, during which I had sought enjoyment apart from my
wife. At first that course of proceeding was the result of our quarrel
on the evening when I returned from Livry; afterward, spite and
self-esteem took a hand. One is never willing to take the first step,
especially when one has no reason for self-reproach. And yet that mode
of life was very far from being pleasant to me; it was not at all in
accordance with my tastes. The idea of being obliged to seek happiness
away from my Eugénie and my family, I, who still loved my wife and
adored my children! But to think of Eugénie behaving in that way! I
wondered if she enjoyed going nowhere with me? Every day I hoped that
she would come to me in my study and throw herself into my arms; but I
hoped in vain. Then I had paroxysms of anger, of vexation; I swore that
I would think no more of her, and I returned home still thinking of her.
She could not say that I annoyed her in any way, that I prevented her
from doing as she pleased. I was determined to deprive her of every
cause of complaint. Often I had no idea where she went; but I could not
believe that Eugénie would ever forget what she owed to herself, or
would fail in her duty; if she did, then she would deserve my contempt
and not my love. Thus it is that a person is always foolish to be
jealous; for either the jealousy is unfounded, or the suspected person
does not deserve that one should worry about him.
Despite this reasoning, which I indulged in when I was calm, I confess
that I sometimes thought of Monsieur Dulac. That evening when he held
Eugénie’s hand in his had not vanished from my thoughts. But there are
so many young men who pay court to all the ladies, as a matter of habit,
without anything coming of it! I believed that he was one of them. I
seemed to remember that when I was a bachelor, I could not see a pretty
woman without trying to make love to her. However, Monsieur Dulac came
much less often to my house. I did not know whether he continued to
escort Eugénie home, for I was not there.
Ernest and his little Marguerite had gone to pass the summer in the
country, in a solitary region where they saw no one but each other and
their children; but they were never bored together; how I envied their
happiness! I avoided Bélan, for he annoyed me; one day he believed that
he was betrayed, the next day he was certain of his wife’s loyalty. I
could not understand how a man could remain in that condition; if I had
had the one-hundredth part of his reasons for being jealous, I would
long ago have found out the truth of the matter.
Nor did I enjoy meeting the Girauds; the sight of them reminded me of
too many epochs of my life. Giraud never saw me without finding a way to
insinuate a complimentary remark about my wedding, and the magnificence
of the supper during the ball. It vexed me to hear that day mentioned;
moreover, it seemed to me that there was a touch of malice, of mockery,
in their manner of congratulating me on my good fortune. Perhaps I saw
things in the wrong light.
In general, society afforded me little amusement. I went about to forget
myself, but I enjoyed the theatre much more; there a man may do what he
pleases: he may listen or think. Sometimes I took my little Henriette
there; she seemed already to understand the plays, and I was so happy
when I had my daughter by my side! I had also been to Livry again, to
see my son; but he was not yet old enough to understand me and to answer
me as his sister did.
I went occasionally to my mother’s. I had never mentioned my domestic
troubles to her; what would be the use? One should keep such things to
himself as much as possible. My mother would have told me that I was old
enough to know how to manage my wife and my household. I did not want
her to make the slightest remonstrance to her daughter-in-law. For I
knew that a mother-in-law’s advice is very rarely listened to. It was
much better therefore to say nothing, and that is what I did.
Winter had come again, and with it balls and receptions. Eugénie
determined to set apart one day in the week to receive our numerous
acquaintances. I allowed her to invite whom she chose. There were
moments when I thought that she was touched by my readiness to satisfy
all her wishes; I saw that she was sometimes sad and pensive and
preoccupied; but I saw no sign of coming back to me, although she was
more free and gentle with me; on the contrary, she seemed to avoid me
more, and to dread any manifestations of affection on my part. I
wondered what could be taking place in her heart.
Dulac came to our house very often. That young man had become a terrible
bore to me. He seemed to be always there, between Eugénie and me. But
how could I forbid him the house? He was exceedingly polite to me and
most obliging to my wife. Everybody liked him; I alone did not agree
with the rest of the world.
Madame Dorcelles came to our house sometimes, but I could not see that
my wife saw her any more frequently; on the contrary, I was inclined to
think that she saw less of her and I was very grateful to her. Madame
Dorcelles attempted to play the coquette with me; she called me a
savage, a misanthrope; I allowed her to call me what she chose, and paid
no attention to her ogling and her fascinations. I could not help
thinking that my wife had in her a most peculiar friend.
I determined to make an effort to accompany my wife into society. It
vexed me that that Dulac should almost always be her escort.
Eugénie seemed surprised by my new course of action, but she said
nothing. I could not make up my mind whether it pleased her, but I
fancied that I detected an exchange of glances between her and Monsieur
Dulac. Ah! if I had been sure of it! I fumed and raged anew; but I very
soon came to myself, and told myself that I was a fool.
There was some talk of a magic lantern exhibition at the house of a lady
friend of ours who had a very fine one; she thought that it would amuse
the children and perhaps the grown people as well; so an evening was
chosen for that purpose.
I escorted my wife; she was depressed, or rather, sullen; we took
Henriette, who was overjoyed at the prospect, and I was glad for her.
We found among the company the Bélans, the Girauds, and the inevitable
Dulac. That man seemed to pursue me everywhere! It seemed to me that he
must always disturb by his presence the pleasure to which I looked
forward. I began to detest him.
After remaining some time in the salon, we were requested to step into
the dining-room where the magic lantern was prepared. The company passed
into that room, where there was almost no light, because darkness is
necessary for the better exhibition of the lantern.
The ladies were seated, the men remained standing. We all laughed in
anticipation of what we were about to see. Some of the gentlemen
imitated Polichinello, or the devil; they favored us with a performance
before the curtain rose. The darkness that reigned in the room seemed to
increase the merriment of many people.
Giraud, who was beside me, whispered in my ear:
“The scenes of the lantern won’t be the most amusing ones. Look, there
is Madame Bélan with monsieur le marquis over in the corner. It is very
amusing. Poor Bélan! but he has just the face for that.”
Such jests no longer made me laugh. I looked about for my wife; I was
confident that Monsieur Dulac had not left the salon, where he was
playing écarté, and I was reassured.
The performance began. More people had arrived and we were so crowded
that we could not move.
They showed us the sun and the moon, Pierrot and the devil, Cupid and
the wild man. The gentleman who explained the pictures made endless
speeches. The children shrieked for joy, and the ladies laughed
heartily. To me it seemed very long and tedious; I could not stir from
my place to go to my wife, and it was darker than ever.
Suddenly, in the very midst of his explanation, the gentleman pushed the
lantern too far, so that it fell from the table to the floor; the lights
were at once uncovered and the room was suddenly illuminated.
I instantly turned my eyes toward my wife. Monsieur Dulac was seated
behind her, but one of her arms was hanging over her chair and her hand
was in her neighbor’s.
I started up so suddenly to go to Eugénie that I trod upon Giraud’s
feet, he was so close to me. He uttered a piercing shriek and declared
that I had hurt him. I did not think of apologizing; I forced a passage
to my wife’s side; her arm was no longer over the back of her chair and
Monsieur Dulac was farther away.
I do not know how I looked at them, but Eugénie seemed perturbed and
Monsieur Dulac’s face wore a most embarrassed expression.
“Take your shawl,” I said abruptly to my wife; “call your daughter and
let us go.”
“Why are we going so soon?” asked Eugénie, looking at me in surprise.
“Because I wish it, madame. Come, no comments, but make haste.”
The tone in which I said this was so new to Eugénie’s ears that she rose
at once to obey; moreover, people might have heard me speaking to her in
that tone and I fancy that she did not desire that.
She was ready in a moment; I took my daughter’s hand, and we prepared to
go.
“Are you going already?” asked the mistress of the house. “Why, it isn’t
all over, he is going to mend the lantern.”
“We cannot stay any longer,” I said, curtly enough.
“I do not feel very well,” murmured Eugénie; “we must go.”
I did not say a word to my wife on the way home, for our daughter was
with us. Poor child! I had deprived her of a part of the pleasure which
she had anticipated, but she dared not complain.
When we were at home and her daughter was in bed, Eugénie said to me in
a bitter tone:
“May I know why you dragged me away so abruptly from the party where we
were?”
“May I know, madame, why your hand was in Monsieur Dulac’s, while the
room was dark?”
“My hand in Monsieur Dulac’s? You dreamed it!”
“No, madame, I did not dream it; I saw it, and saw it very distinctly.”
“I do not know but that Monsieur Dulac did take my hand, by accident or
in jest. I certainly did not notice it! So that was why you rushed up
like a madman, and spoke to me in a threatening tone, as if you were
going to strike me; that is why you drew everybody’s eyes upon me, is
it? No one accustomed to society was ever before known to behave as you
did!”
“Madame, when I consider myself insulted, I pay little heed to society.
There was a time when you thought and acted in the same way. I do not
know what sort of jesting Monsieur Dulac presumes to indulge in with
you, but I warn you that I don’t like it. I request you not to allow it
any more.”
“You expect me to mention your idiotic ideas to that young man? I will
do nothing of the kind! It is perfectly absurd.”
“Very well; whenever it suits me, I shall not hesitate to turn the
fellow out of doors.”
“I advise you to do it! The idea of turning that young man out of doors
because he is pleasant and agreeable and attentive to me! You only lack
that, to give you a most excellent reputation in society!”
“Be careful, madame, that you do not give me a reputation which I should
like still less.”
“It seems to me that it is hardly worth while to go with me in order to
indulge in such scenes. Formerly you went your way, monsieur, and I went
mine.”
“I shall go with you whenever it suits me, madame. I am well aware that
it will be a terrible nuisance to you, and I am very sorry; but you will
go nowhere without me if I choose that you shall not.”
“Oho! we will see about that!”
I went to my room. I did not sleep that night, I constantly saw that
young man with my wife. And yet what Eugénie had told me was probable
enough and might be true. But a thousand circumstances, which I
remembered now, revived my suspicions when I tried to banish them.
Suppose that she were deceiving me! At that thought, a shudder ran
through my whole being, and, since the evening before, I bore a heavy
weight which oppressed and suffocated me.
Such torture! I was determined to know, to make sure whether I was
betrayed.
But to make sure was no easy matter; women are so cunning in taking
precautions! Not always, however; they who are not accustomed to
intrigues sometimes allow themselves to be detected. So I was jealous at
last! a jealous husband! I who had so often laughed at the type, and who
had deceived so many! My turn had come! And if I were--ah! I did not
know what I should do! Formerly I used to laugh about it, it all seemed
so simple and so natural to me! We never put ourselves in the places of
those at whom we laugh. To be sure, there are some who take the thing so
indifferently, others who joke about it. Husbands of the latter class
have ceased to love their wives. But the wisest, the most sensible, do
not try to make sure. On the contrary, they carefully avoid everything
that might disturb their peace of mind by opening their eyes. Ah! those
who act thus are very wise; why should I not do as they did?
After that long and painful night I shut myself up in my study and tried
to distract my thoughts in business. It was not ten o’clock when Bélan
appeared; nothing could have been more disagreeable to me at that moment
than his presence. He threw himself into an armchair, and said:
“This time, my dear fellow, it is impossible for me to doubt it; I am a
cuckold!”
At that exordium I sprang from my chair and began to pace the floor,
exclaiming testily:
“Morbleu! monsieur, you have been saying that so long that it would be
very strange if you weren’t.”
Bélan stared at me and muttered:
“If that’s the kind of advice you give me!--Indeed! so that’s your
opinion, is it?”
“I have no opinion or advice to give you. There are times when a man
should look to nobody for advice but himself. What I can’t conceive is
that a man should go about proclaiming his shame as you do.”
“Proclaiming! what does that mean, I pray to know? Because I come to
confide my troubles to a friend, you call it proclaiming my shame! Look
you! I don’t care to be a cuckold myself; every man has his own way of
looking at things. I know very well that there are some husbands to whom
it doesn’t make any difference, who let their wives go about with their
lovers and seem to pay no attention to it.”
I had listened to Bélan impatiently; at that moment I could contain
myself no longer; I jumped at him, seized him by the collar, and shook
him violently, crying:
“Did you come here to say that for my benefit, monsieur? Do you mean to
insult me and to include me among those obliging husbands to whom you
refer? Morbleu! Monsieur Bélan, I am in no mood to endure any
impertinence on that subject.”
The poor little man had submitted to be shaken, being totally unable to
defend himself, he was so dazed by my action. At last he cried out,
gazing at me in dismay:
“Blémont, my friend, what on earth is the matter with you? You certainly
are ill; you are not yourself!”
I relaxed my hold, and, ashamed of my outbreak of wrath, I threw myself
in a chair and faltered:
“Yes--yes--I am not well. I thought that you meant to insult
me--but----”
“I, mean to insult an old friend, when I came to confide my domestic
unhappiness to him. You cause me grief, Blémont, you affect me. However,
if you really think that I intended to jest about your--In the first
place, I didn’t know that there was any excuse for jesting about you.
However, if you want satisfaction, you know that I am not a fellow to
retreat, I have furnished my proofs. I avoided the artilleryman, it is
true, but one doesn’t fight with a stranger; with a friend it’s a very
different matter.”