CONFIDENCES
The next morning, on returning from drill, Jean found Paul de Lavardens
waiting for him at the barracks; he scarcely allowed him time to
dismount, and the moment he had him alone:
"Quick," said he, "describe your, dinner-party of yesterday. I saw them
myself in the morning; the little one was driving four ponies, and with
an amount of audacity! I bowed to them; did they mention me? Did they
recognize me? When will you take me to Longueval? Answer me."
"Answer? Yes. But which question first?"
"The last."
"When shall I take you to Longueval?"
"Yes."
"Well, in ten days; they don't want to see any one just now."
"Then you are not going back to Longueval for ten days?"
"Oh, I shall go back to-day at four o'clock. But I don't count, you
know. Jean Reynaud, the Cure's godson. That is why I have penetrated so
easily into the confidence of these two charming women. I have presented
myself under the patronage and with the guarantee of the Church.
And then they have discovered that I could render them little services.
I know the country very well, and they will make use of me as a guide.
In a word, I am nobody; while you, Count Paul de Lavardens, you are
somebody; so fear nothing, your turn will come with the fetes and balls.
Then you will be resplendent in all your glory, and I shall return very
humbly into my obscurity."
"You may laugh at me as much as you like; it is none the less true that
during those ten days you will steal a march upon me--upon me!"
"How upon you?"
"Now, Jean, do you want to make me believe that you are not already in
love with one of these two women? Is it possible? So much beauty, so
much luxury. Luxury to that degree upsets me. Those black ponies with
their white rosettes! I dreamed of them last night, and that little-
Bettina, is it not?"
"Yes, Bettina."
"Bettina--Countess Bettina de Lavardens! Doesn't that sound well enough!
and what a perfect husband she would have in me! To be the husband of a
woman possessing boundless wealth, that is my destiny. It is not so easy
as one may suppose. I have already run through something, and--if my
mother had not stopped me! but I am quite ready to begin again. Oh, how
happy that girl would be with me! I would create around her the
existence of a fairy queen. In all her luxury she would feel the taste,
the art, and the skill of her husband. I would pass my life in adoring
her, in displaying her beauty, in petting her, in bearing her triumphant
through the world. I would study her beauty in order to give it the
frame that best suited it. 'If he were not there,' she would say, 'I
should not be so beautiful, so dazzling.' I should know not only how to
love her, but how to amuse her. She would have something for her money,
she would have love and pleasure. Come, Jean, do a good action, take me
to Mrs. Scott's to-day."
"I cannot, I assure you."
"Well, then, in ten days; but I give you fair notice, I shall install
myself at Longueval, and shall not move. In the first place it would
please my mother; she is still a little prejudiced against the Americans.
She says that she shall arrange not to see them, but I know my mother.
Some day, when I shall go home in the evening and tell her: 'Mother, I
have won the-heart of a charming little person who is burdened with a
capital of twenty millions--they exaggerate when they talk of hundreds of
millions. You know these are the correct figures, and they are enough
for me. That evening, then, my mother will be delighted, because, in her
heart, what is it she desires for me? What all good mothers desire for
their sons--a good marriage, or a discreet liaison with some one in
society. At Longueval I find these two essentials, and I will
accommodate myself very willingly to either. You will have the kindness
to warn me in ten days--you will let me know which of the two you abandon
to me, Mrs. Scott or Miss Percival?"
"You are mad, you are quite mad! I do not, I never shall think--"
"Listen, Jean. You are wisdom personified; you may say and do as you
like, but remember what I say to you, Jean, you will fall in love in that
house."
"I do not believe it," replied Jean, laughing.
"But I am absolutely sure of it. Good-by. I leave you to your duties."
That morning Jean was perfectly sincere. He had slept very well the
previous night; the second interview with the two sisters had, as if by
enchantment, dissipated the slight trouble which had agitated his soul
after the first meeting. He prepared to meet them again with much
pleasure, but also with much tranquillity; there was too much money in
that house to permit the love of a poor devil like Jean to find place
honestly there.
Friendship was another affair; with all his heart he wished, and with all
his strength he sought, to establish himself peacefully in the esteem and
regard of the sisters. He would try not to remark too much the beauty of
Susie and Bettina; he would try not to forget himself as he had done the
previous evening, in the contemplation of the four little feet resting on
their footstools. They had said, very frankly, very cordially, to him:
"You shall be our friend." That was all he desired--to be their friend--
and that he would be.
During the ten days that followed, all conduced to the success of this
enterprise. Susie, Bettina, the Cure, and Jean led the same life in the
closest and most cordial intimacy.
Jean did not seek to analyze his feelings. He felt for these two women
an equal affection; he was perfectly happy, perfectly tranquil. Then he
was not in love, for love and tranquillity seldom dwell at peace in the
same heart.
Jean, however, saw approach, with a little anxiety and sadness, the day
which would bring to Longueval the Turners, and the Nortons, and the
whole force of the American colony. The day came too soon.
On Friday, the 24th of June, at four o'clock, Jean arrived at the castle.
Bettina received him alone, looking quite vexed.
"How annoying it is," said she, "my sister is not well; a little
headache, nothing of consequence, it will be gone by tomorrow; but I dare
not ride with you alone. In America I might; but here, it would not do,
would it?"
"Certainly not," replied Jean.
"I must send you back, and I am so sorry."
"And so am I--I am very sorry to be obliged to go, and to lose this last
day, which I had hoped to pass with you. However, since it must be, I
will come tomorrow to inquire after your sister."
"She will see you herself, to-morrow; I repeat it is nothing serious.
But do not run away in such a hurry, pray; will you not spare me a little
quarter of an hour's conversation? I want to speak to you; sit down
there, and now listen to me well. My sister and I had intended this
evening, after dinner, to blockade you into a little corner of the
drawing-room, and then she meant to tell you what I am going to try to
say for us both."
"But I am a little nervous. Do not laugh; it is a very serious matter.
We wish to thank you for having been, ever since our arrival here, so
good to us both."
"Oh, Miss Percival, pray, it is I who--"
"Oh, do not interrupt me, you will quite confuse me. I do not know how
to get through with it. I maintain, besides, that the thanks are due
from us, not from you. We arrived here two strangers. We have been
fortunate enough immediately to find friends. Yes, friends. You have
taken us by the hand, you have led us to our farmers, to our keepers;
while your godfather took us to his poor--and everywhere you were so much
beloved that from their confidence in you, they began, on your
recommendation, to like us a little. You are adored about here; do you
know that?"
"I was born here--all these good people have known me from my infancy,
and are grateful to me for what my grandfather and father did for them;
and then I am of their race, the race of the peasants; my great-
grandfather was a laborer at Bargecourt, a village two miles from here."
"Oh! oh! you appear very proud of that!"
"Neither proud nor ashamed."
"I beg your pardon, you made a little movement of pride. Well, I can
tell you that my mother's great-grandfather was a farmer in Brittany.
He went to Canada at the end of the last century, when Canada was still
French. And you love very much this place where you were born?"
"Very much. Perhaps I shall soon be obliged to leave it."
"Why?"
"When I get promotion, I shall have to exchange into another regiment,
and I shall wander from garrison to garrison; but certainly, when I am an
old commandant or old colonel, on half-pay, I shall come back, and live
and die here, in the little house that was my father's."
"Always quite alone?"
"Why quite alone? I certainly hope not."
"You intend to marry?"
"Yes, certainly."
"You are trying to marry?"
"No; one may think of marrying, but one ought not to try to marry."
"And yet there are people who do try. Come, I can answer for that, and
you even; people have wished to marry you."
"How do you know that?"
"Oh! I know all your little affairs so well; you are what they call a
good match, and I repeat it, they have wished to marry you."
"Who told you that?"
"Monsieur le Cure."
"Then he was very wrong," said Jean, with a certain sharpness.
"No, no, he was not wrong. If any one has been to blame it is I. I soon
discovered that your godfather was never so happy as when he was speaking
of you. So when I was alone with him during our walks, to please him I
talked of you, and he related your history to me. You are well off; you
are very well off; from Government you receive every month two hundred
and thirteen francs and some centimes; am I correct?"
"Yes," said Jean, deciding to bear with a good grace his share in the
Cure's indiscretions.
"You have eight thousand francs' income?"
"Nearly, not quite."
"Add to that your house, which is worth thirty thousand francs. You are
in an excellent position, and people have asked your hand."
"Asked my hand! No, no."
"They have, they have, twice, and you have refused two very good
marriages, two very good fortunes, if you prefer it--it is the same thing
for so many people. Two hundred thousand francs in the one, three
hundred thousand in the other case. It appears that these fortunes are
enormous for the country! Yet you have refused! Tell me why."
"Well, it concerned two charming young girls."
"That is understood. One always says that."
"But whom I scarcely knew. They forced me--for I did resist--they forced
me to spend two or three evenings with them last winter."
"And then?"
"Then--I don't quite know how to explain it to you. I did not feel the
slightest touch of embarrassment, emotion, anxiety, or disturbance--"
"In fact," said Bettina, resolutely, "not the least suspicion of love."
"No, not the least, and I returned quite calmly to my bachelor den, for I
think it is better not to marry than to marry without love."
"And I think so, too."
She looked at him, he looked at her, and suddenly, to the great surprise
of both, they found nothing more to say, nothing at all.
At this moment Harry and Bella rushed into the room, with cries of joy.
"Monsieur Jean! Are you there? Come and see our ponies!"
"Ah!" said Bettina, her voice a little uncertain, "Edwards has just come
back from Paris, and has brought two microscopic ponies for the children.
Let us go to see them, shall we?"
They went to see the ponies, which were indeed worthy to figure in the
stables of the King of Lilliput.