A LITTLE CHAT
MADAME F----- MADAME H------
(These ladies are seated at needlework as they talk.)
Madame F--For myself, you know, my dear, I fulfil my duties tolerably,
still I am not what would be called a devotee. By no means. Pass me
your scissors. Thanks.
Madame H--You are quite welcome, dear. What a time those little squares
of lace must take. I am like yourself in respect of religion; in the
first place, I think that nothing should be overdone. Have you ever-
I have never spoken to any one on the subject, but I see your ideas are
so in accordance with my own that--
Madame F--Come, speak out, dear; you trust me a little, I hope.
Madame H--Well, then, have you--tell me truly--ever had any doubts?
Madame F--(after reflecting for a moment)--Doubts! No. And you?
Madame H--I have had doubts, which has been a real grief to me. Heavens!
how I have wept.
Madame F--I should think so, my poor dear. For my own part, my faith is
very strong. These doubts must have made you very unhappy.
Madame H--Terribly so. You know, it seems as if everything failed you;
there is a vacancy all about you--I have never spoken about it to my
husband, of course--Leon is a jewel of a man, but he will not listen to
anything of that kind. I can still see him, the day after our marriage;
I was smoothing my hair--broad bands were then worn, you know.
Madame F--Yes, yes; they were charming. You will see that we shall go
back to them.
Madame H--I should not be surprised; fashion is a wheel that turns.
Leon, then, said to me the day after our wedding: "My dear child, I shall
not hinder you going to church, but I beg you, for mercy's sake, never to
say a word to me about it."
Madame F--Really, Monsieur H. said that to you?
Madame H--Upon my honor. Oh! my husband is all that is most--or, if you
prefer it, all that is least--
Madame F--Yes, yes, I understand. That is a grief, you know. Mine is
only indifferent. From time to time he says some disagreeable things to
me on the question, but I am sure he could be very easily brought back to
the right. At the first illness he has, you shall see. When he has only
a cold in the head, I notice the change. You have not seen my thimble?
Madame H--Here it is. Do not be too sure of that, dear; men are not to
be brought back by going "chk, chk" to them, like little chickens. And
then, though I certainly greatly admire the men who observe religious
practices, you know me well enough not to doubt that--I think, as I told
you, that nothing should be exaggerated. And yourself, pet, should you
like to see your husband walking before the banner with a great wax taper
in his right hand and a bouquet of flowers in his left?
Madame F--Oh! no, indeed. Why not ask me at once whether I should like
to see Leon in a black silk skull cap, with cotton in his ears and a holy
water sprinkler in his hand? One has no need to go whining about a
church with one's nose buried in a book to be a pious person; there is a
more elevated form of religion, which is that of--of refined people, you
know.
Madame H--Ah! when you speak like that, I am of your opinion. I think,
for instance, that there is nothing looks finer than a man while the host
is being elevated. Arms crossed, no book, head slightly bowed, grave
look, frock coat buttoned up. Have you seen Monsieur de P. at mass?
How well he looks!
Madame F--He is such a fine man, and, then, he dresses so well. Have you
seen him on horseback? Ah! so you have doubts; but tell me what they
are, seeing we are indulging in confidences.
Madame H--I can hardly tell you. Doubts, in short; about hell, for
instance, I have had horrible doubts. Oh! but do not let us speak about
that; I believe it is wrong even to think of it.
Madame F--I have very broad views on that point; I never think about it.
Besides, my late confessor helped me. "Do not seek too much," he always
said to me, "do not try to understand that which is unfathomable." You
did not know Father Gideon? He was a jewel of a confessor; I was
extremely pleased with him. Not too tedious, always discreet, and, above
all, well-bred. He turned monk from a romantic cause--a penitent was
madly in love with him.
Madame H--Impossible!
Madame F--Yes, really. What! did you not know about it? The success of
the monastery was due to that accident. Before the coming of Father
Gideon it vegetated, but on his coming the ladies soon flocked there in
crowds. They organized a little guild, entitled "The Ladies of the
Agony." They prayed for the Chinese who had died without confession,
and wore little death's heads in aluminum as sleeve-links. It became
very fashionable, as you are aware, and the good fathers organized, in
turn, a registry for men servants; and the result is that, from one thing
leading to another, the community has become extremely wealthy. I have
even heard that one of the most important railway stations in Paris is
shortly to be moved, so that the size of their garden can be increased,
which is rather restricted at present.
Madame H--As to that, it is natural enough that men should want a place
to walk in at home; but what I do not understand is that a woman, however
pious she may be, should fall in love with a priest. It is all very
well, but that is no longer piety; it is--fanaticism. I venerate
priests, I can say so truly, but after all I can not imagine myself--you
will laugh at me--ha, ha, ha!
Madame F--Not at all. Ha, ha, ha! what a child you are!
Madame H--(working with great briskness)--Well, I can not imagine that
they are men--like the others.
Madame F--(resuming work with equal ardor)--And yet, my dear, people say
they are.
Madame H--There are so many false reports set afloat. (A long silence.)
Madame F--(in a discreet tone of voice)--After all, there are priests who
have beards--the Capuchins, for instance.
Madame H--Madame de V. has a beard right up to her eyes, so that counts
for nothing, dear.
Madame F--That counts for nothing. I do not think so. In the first
place, Madame de V.'s beard is not a perennial beard; her niece told me
that she sheds her moustaches every autumn. What can a beard be that can
not stand the winter? A mere trifle.
Madame H--A mere trifle that is horribly ugly, my dear.
Madame F--Oh! if Madame de V. had only moustaches to frighten away
people, one might still look upon her without sorrow, but--
Madame H--I grant all that. Let us allow that the Countess's moustache
and imperial are a nameless species of growth. I do not attach much
importance to the point, you understand. She has a chin of heartbreaking
fertility, that is all.
Madame F--To return to what we were saying, how is it that the men who
are strongest, most courageous, most manly--soldiers, in fact--are
precisely those who have most beard?
Madame H--That is nonsense, for then the pioneers would be braver than
the Generals; and, in any case, there is not in France, I am sure, a
General with as much beard as a Capuchin. You have never looked at a
Capuchin then?
Madame F--Oh, yes! I have looked at one quite close. It is a rather
funny story. Fancy Clementine's cook having a brother a Capuchin--an
ex-jeweller, a very decent man. In consequence of misfortunes in
business--it was in 1848, business was at a stand-still--in short,
he lost his senses--no, he did not lose his senses, but he threw himself
into the arms of Heaven.
Madame H--Oh! I never knew that! When? Clementine--
Madame F--I was like you, I would not believe it, but one day Clementine
said to me: "Since you will not believe in my Capuchin, come and see me
tomorrow about three o'clock; he will be paying a visit to his sister.
Don't have lunch first; we will lunch together." Very good. I went the
next day with Louise, who absolutely insisted upon accompanying me, and I
found at Clementine's five or six ladies installed in the drawing-room
and laughing like madcaps. They had all come to see the Capuchin.
"Well," said I, as I went in, when they all began to make signs to me and
whisper, "Hush, hush!" He was in the kitchen.
Madame H--And what was he like?
Madame F--Oh! very nice, except his feet; you know how it always gives
one a chill to look at their feet; but, in short, he was very amiable.
He was sent for into the drawing-room, but he would not take anything
except a little biscuit and a glass of water, which took away our
appetites. He was very lively; told us that we were coquettes with our
little bonnets and our full skirts. He was very funny, always a little
bit of the jeweller at the bottom, but with plenty of good nature and
frankness. He imitated the buzzing of a fly for us; it was wonderful.
He also wanted to show us a little conjuring trick, but he needed two
corks for it, and unfortunately his sister could only find one.
Madame H--No matter, I can not understand Clementine engaging a servant
like that.
Madame F--Why? The brother is a guarantee.
Madame H--Of morality, I don't say no; but it seems to me that a girl
like that can not be very discreet in her ways.
Madame F--How do you make that out?
Madame H--I don't know, I can not reason the matter out, but it seems to
me that it must be so, that is all, . . . besides, I should not like
to see a monk in my kitchen, close to the soup. Oh, mercy! no!
Madame F--What a child you are!
Madame H--That has nothing to do with religious feelings, my dear; I do
not attack any dogma. Ah! if I were to say, for instance--come now, if I
were to say, what now?
Madame F--In point of fact, what really is dogma?
Madame H--Well, it is what can not be attacked. Thus, for instance,
a thing that is evident, you understand me, is unassailable, . . . or
else it should be assailed, . . in short, it can not be attacked. That
is why it is monstrous to allow the Jewish religion and the Protestant
religion in France, because these religions can be assailed, for they
have no dogma. I give you this briefly, but in your prayer-book you will
find the list of dogmas. I am a rod of iron as regards dogmas. My
husband, who, as I said, has succeeded in inspiring me with doubts on
many matters--without imagining it, for he has never required anything of
me; I must do him that justice--but who, at any rate, has succeeded in
making me neglect many things belonging to religion, such as fasting,
vespers, sermons, . . . confession.
Madame F--Confession! Oh! my dear, I should never have believed that.
Madame H--It is in confidence, dear pet, that I tell you this. You will
swear never to speak of it?
Madame F--Confession! Oh! yes, I swear it. Come here, and let me kiss
you.
Madame H--You pity me, do you not?
Madame F--I can not pity you too much, for I am absolutely in the same
position.
Madame H--You, too! Good heavens! how I love you. What can one do, eh?
Must one not introduce some plan of conciliation into the household,
sacrifice one's belief a little to that of one's husband?
Madame F--No doubt. For instance, how would you have me go to high mass,
which is celebrated at my parish church at eleven o'clock exactly? That
is just our breakfast time. Can I let my husband breakfast alone? He
would never hinder me from going to high mass, he has said so a thousand
times, only he has always added, "When you want to go to mass during
breakfast time, I only ask one thing--it is to give me notice the day
before, so that I may invite some friends to keep me company."
Madame H--But only fancy, pet, our two husbands could not be more alike
if they were brothers. Leon has always said, "My dear little chicken--"
Madame F--Ha! ha! ha!
Madame H--Yes, that is his name for me; you know how lively he is. He
has always said to me, then, "My dear little chicken, I am not a man to
do violence to your opinions, but in return give way to me as regards
some of your pious practices." I only give you the mere gist of it; it
was said with a thousand delicacies, which I suppress. And I have agreed
by degrees, . . . so that, while only paying very little attention to
the outward observances of religion, I have remained, as I told you, a
bar of iron as regards dogmas. Oh! as to that, I would not give way an
inch, a hair-breadth, and Leon is the first to tell me that I am right.
After all, dogma is everything; practice, well, what would you? If I
could bring Leon round, it would be quite another thing. How glad I am
to have spoken to you about all this.
Madame F--Have we not been chattering? But it is half-past five, and I
must go and take my cinchona bark. Thirty minutes before meals, it is a
sacred duty. Will you come, pet?
Madame H--Stop a moment, I have lost my thimble again and must find it.
ETEXT EDITOR'S BOOKMARKS:
But she thinks she is affording you pleasure
Do not seek too much
First impression is based upon a number of trifles
Sometimes like to deck the future in the garments of the past
The heart requires gradual changes