Part 10

Adolphine was alone in a small salon, much less sumptuous than her sister's, but very comfortable none the less. I need not say that there was a piano in it: that has become an indispensable article of furniture; we see them even in the domiciles of concierges who have daughters at the Conservatoire.

Adolphine held a book in her hand, but she was not reading it; she was musing, and her face still wore a sad expression. Upon what subject can a maiden of eighteen muse? Everybody will conclude that her heart was engrossed by a tender sentiment. And yet, no man had ever paid court to Adolphine, no one had ever observed any youthful exquisite paying assiduous attention to her. But all love affairs do not begin in the same way; they do not all follow the beaten paths; there are secret, unavowed sentiments which those who inspire them are very far from suspecting; and when it is a virtuous maiden's heart in which one of those profound attachments takes root, she suffers all the more because of the pains she takes to conceal it.

Adolphine passed her hand across her brow, as if to brush away the thoughts that made her sad; she took up her book again, and for a few minutes tried to read; then placed it beside her, saying to herself:

"It's of no use for me to try to distract my thoughts--I cannot do it. I used to be so fond of reading! This book is intensely interesting, they say, and I have no idea what I'm reading; nothing interests me now! even music no longer has any charm for me; my poor piano is neglected; everything is a bore. Mon Dieu! shall I always be like this? Oh! no, that would be ghastly! It will pass away; it must pass away! Father has already noticed several times that I seemed sad, and it worries him; he thinks that I am sick. Oh! I don't want to make him uneasy. But it isn't my fault; I do all that I possibly can to drive out of my mind the memory of--that person--and it keeps coming back. And yet, I know perfectly well that there's no sense in it--that I'm a little fool. It's of no use for me to argue--I cannot cure myself!"

The door of the salon opened; it was Monsieur Gerbault. The girl hurriedly wiped away the tears that were rolling down her cheeks, and strove to assume a smiling expression, as she went to meet her father.

"I have come to tell you, Adolphine, that we shall have two guests at dinner to-day."

"You are very late in telling me, father. But, no matter! I will go and tell Madeleine."

"I couldn't tell you any earlier; I met Monsieur Batonnin only a moment ago. He said: 'I am going to play a game of bezique with you this evening.' I said: 'Come and dine with us, informally.'"

"Monsieur Batonnin! I don't care much for that young man."

"Still he is very gallant--and so courteous."

"He is forever paying compliments--it's a horrible bore! And then, he always has a smile on his face. Tell me, papa, is that natural? Can there be anyone in the world who is always satisfied and happy?"

"I should say that it was rather difficult. However, there are optimists who look at the bright side of everything."

"For my part, I believe that those people are not sincere, that they simply make a point of concealing what they think.--Who is the other one, father?"

"Monsieur Clairval."

"I am very fond of him; he isn't complimentary, at all events, and yet that doesn't prevent his being agreeable. He has plenty of wit, and doesn't flaunt it in everybody's face. I do like that so much--wit that doesn't parade itself!"

"But, my child, if one has wit without showing it, I should say that it was precisely equivalent to having none at all."

"Oh! it always leaks out, father, here and there, even if it's only in the smile."

"I just missed inviting Monsieur de la Beriniere, too."

"Oh! papa, how fortunate it is that you missed it!"

"Why so, pray? The count is very pleasant. He's a very distinguished man in all respects."

"I don't say that he isn't, but for a count we should have had to make preparations; and then, he has been coming to see us quite often of late."

"And that bores you?"

"It doesn't amuse me overmuch."

"My dear girl, I hoped, by inviting a friend or two to dinner, to brighten you up, to give you a little diversion; for you have looked as if you weren't feeling well for some time. Tell me, are you sick?"

"Why, no, dear father; I am not sick, I am not in pain. I assure you that I am in my ordinary condition."

"Good! so much the better! Still, it seems to me that you're a little changed."

"Oh! you know one has days--when the autumn comes.--And you didn't invite Fanny and her husband, while you were in the mood?"

"Yes, I did. I was going to their house when I met Auguste. But they can't come; they are going to a grand dinner. Nothing but festivities, gorgeous parties!"

"All the better! it amuses Fanny; she's so fond of all that sort of thing!"

"True, true! Fanny is leading the life she used to dream of; she ought to be happy. But it seems to me that her husband has been in rather a gloomy mood lately; he always has such a startled, preoccupied manner; and when you speak to him, he hardly listens to you."

"I think that you're mistaken, father; Fanny's husband isn't of an expansive nature; his manner is cold, a little haughty, perhaps."

"Yes, I know it; but he likes to cut a brilliant figure, to dazzle other people by his magnificence; and that sometimes carries a man too far."

"What do you mean by that?"

"I have been told that he is speculating heavily on the Bourse."

"If he has the means to do it, it's all right; he must know what he's about."

"Batonnin was telling me just now that Monleard must have lost a great deal of money by the failure--or the flight, I don't quite know which it was--of one Morissel."

"Ah! Monsieur Batonnin told you that? I notice that disagreeable news is generally brought by smiling faces and honeyed words."

"I prefer to believe that my son-in-law's fortune has not sustained such a serious loss."

"After all, father, in business a man can't always make money, can he?"

"Hoity-toity! here you are talking almost as well as your sister.--By the way, I met Monsieur Grandcourt too."

"Monsieur Grandcourt?"

"Well, well! what's the matter now? You're as pale as a ghost. Don't you feel well?"

"Yes, father. I am all right, I promise you. What did Monsieur Grandcourt have to say?"

"Oh! he doesn't speculate! He's a prudent, intelligent man. He does an excellent business. His house is prosperous and is extending its connections every day."

"And his nephew--that poor Monsieur Gustave--did he tell you anything about him?"

"He is still in Spain."

"But when is he coming back? If he should come to see us--would that annoy you?"

"My dear Adolphine, in the first place, after what has happened, it's not at all likely that Gustave will ever come to our house again. That young man was in love with your sister. For a moment, he hoped that she would accept him for her husband, then his hopes were disappointed. He saw Fanny take Monleard in preference to him, and he must have suffered doubly--in his love and in his self-esteem. What do you suppose he will come to our house again for?--in search of memories, of regrets? No, our company would have no charms for him now."

"Ah! so you think, father, that our company would no longer be agreeable to him? But he was much attached to you."

"As the father of the young lady whose husband he wished to be; I know all about that."

"But, still, if he should come here, it seems to me that it would be very discourteous to send him away, to receive him unkindly."

"Without being unkind to him, you could easily make him understand that his presence here may be very embarrassing; that he may meet your sister and her husband here; that Monleard may have learned of his love for Fanny; and that it would be better, therefore, for him not to come again. But, I say once more, you will not have to tell him all that; for I am very certain, myself, that he has no intention of coming here."

"Poor Gustave!" said Adolphine to herself, as she left the room; "father doesn't want him to come here any more! What, in heaven's name, would he say if he knew about that duel? Then it would surely be: 'I don't want to see him in my house again!'--Luckily he thinks, like everybody else, that Auguste's injury was the result of a fall on the stairs. But I suppose father is right, and Gustave will never come here; I shall never see him again!"

The girl put her handkerchief to her eyes once more, then went in search of Madeleine, her maid, a young girl from Picardy, who did not know Gustave, because she did not enter Monsieur Gerbault's service until after his eldest daughter's marriage. Madeleine was very fond of her mistress; she saw that she was unhappy, and often said to her:

"Mon Dieu! mamzelle, when shall I see you happy and gay, as you ought to be at your age?"

"Why, I am very happy, Madeleine," replied Adolphine, forcing back a sigh. Whereat the Picarde murmured, with a shrug of her shoulders:

"Oh! nenni! I can see well enough that you always have something inside that keeps you from laughing!"

XXII

A SOFT-SPOKEN GENTLEMAN

The guests were punctual; the dinner was voted excellent. Monsieur Batonnin ate for four, but was not thereby prevented from praising each dish, adding compliments for the host, for the young lady of the house, and even for the cook; if there had been a cat or a dog, it is probable that it would have come in for its share in that distribution of flattering speeches.

At dessert, the conversation fell upon the newly married couple, Monsieur Gerbault expressing his regret that they had been unable to come to dinner.

"Yes, they make a charming couple," said Batonnin, with his inevitable smile. "Can Monsieur Monleard use his right arm now?"

"Yes; it is entirely well. It took a long while, for a mere fall on the stairs."

"Ha! ha! a fall on the stairs! Ha! ha! Monsieur Gerbault says that as if he really believed it. Ha! ha!"

"What do you mean by that?" retorted Monsieur Gerbault, who understood neither Monsieur Batonnin's words nor the malicious tone in which he uttered them; whereas Adolphine changed color, fearing that her father might learn the truth. Monsieur Clairval alone seemed indifferent to what was going on; but he glanced at the soft-spoken guest with an expression which said plainly enough:

"In my opinion, that was a very stupid remark of yours."

Monsieur Batonnin smiled on, as he replied:

"Come, come, Monsieur Gerbault, you know perfectly well that your son-in-law's wound was caused by a sword-thrust, which he received in a duel. He preferred not to tell people that he had fought, especially because--because---- I know the reason."

"Why, monsieur, that isn't at all probable!" cried Adolphine. "If my sister's husband had fought a duel, I should certainly know it, and----"

"Why so, my dear young lady? If he has concealed it from Monsieur Gerbault, he may well have concealed it from you, too."

"Be kind enough, monsieur, to explain yourself more clearly," said Monsieur Gerbault, whose face had become very serious; "if my son-in-law has had a duel, I knew nothing about it, I tell you again; now, if you have any definite information on the subject, be good enough to impart it to me; it seems to me that I ought to be at least as well informed as a stranger, upon such a matter."

"Mon Dieu! my dear monsieur, I learned of it by chance two days ago. I met Madame Delbois, who was at your daughter's wedding, and who left the ball at the same time that she did. So, as you will see, they were in the hall at the same time, waiting for their carriages."

"I don't see yet what connection there is between that fact and a duel."

"One moment--we are coming to it. While the ladies were waiting, a person of unprepossessing aspect came out of the restaurant. He was just behind Madame Delbois when she said to one of her friends: 'There goes the bride; she's going away early.'--Thereupon, this person--of unprepossessing aspect--had the effrontery to exclaim in a loud voice---- But, really, if you know nothing of the episode, I am afraid that, if I go any further, I may say something that it would be unpleasant for you to hear."

"If what you have to tell Monsieur Gerbault is likely to be unpleasant for him to hear," interposed Monsieur Clairval, "it seems to me, Monsieur Batonnin, that you would have done much better to say nothing at all on the subject. As Monsieur Monleard concealed the fact that he had had a duel, it is to be presumed that he feared that it would displease his father-in-law; and, frankly, it isn't decent of you to come here and volunteer to tell something that nobody asked you to tell."

"I beg your pardon, Monsieur Gerbault just asked me to tell him what I knew."

"Go on, Monsieur Batonnin, finish your story, I beg; what did this person say, whom Madame Delbois overheard?"

"Your son-in-law heard him, too, and that is what led to the challenge. However, I simply repeat what Madame Delbois told me. I wasn't there; I was dancing at that moment."

"Well, Monsieur Batonnin, this man said----?"

"I give you my word of honor, my dear Monsieur Gerbault, that it gives me the greatest pain to repeat his detestable words. I am very sorry that I mentioned it; I did it quite innocently----"

"Oh! finish, for heaven's sake!"

"That man exclaimed, when he caught sight of the bride: 'Ah! there's the faithless Fanny!'"

Monsieur Clairval began to laugh, and Monsieur Gerbault deemed it the wiser plan to do the same; Adolphine decided to imitate them, and Monsieur Batonnin, who expected to produce a startling effect, looked very sheepish when he saw them all laughing.

"Ah! that strikes you as amusing, does it?" he faltered.

"Mon Dieu! Monsieur Batonnin, with all your hesitation and holding back, I thought that you were going to tell us something scandalous. Frankly, it seems to me that those words, from the mouth of a man who was drunk, no doubt, and whose tongue may have been twisted, did not deserve such a long preamble----"

"Your son-in-law didn't think as you do, apparently; for he rushed after the fellow, and they exchanged cards."

"Did Madame Delbois see that also?"

"Why, yes."

"How does it happen that that lady, who is evidently very fond of talking, has not delivered herself before this of things that took place more than six weeks ago?"

"That's easily explained: she left Paris for the country the next morning, and didn't return until the day before yesterday."

"Oh! you needn't tell me that!--Come, let us go and have some coffee."

"Look you, my dear Batonnin," said Monsieur Clairval, laughing heartily, "your news fell rather flat. It's a pity, isn't it?"

Batonnin bit his lips, and, strange to say, did not smile.

XXIII

A GAME OF BEZIQUE

They had just finished their coffee, when the Comte de la Beriniere was announced.

"I come early, you see. I made haste to get rid of the person with whom I dined," said the count, kissing Adolphine's hand, who seemed little flattered by the attention.

"That is very good of you; in return, we will have a game of bezique for your benefit."

"Oh! by and by; I will venture to request mademoiselle to give us a little music first. When one has once heard her sing, one has but one desire, and that is to hear her again."

"If it will give you any pleasure, monsieur---- I have not enough talent to require to be asked more than once."

"That is to say, you are always charming."

"The rest of us, who are not music-mad like Monsieur de la Beriniere, will play a three-handed game of bezique. You play, don't you, Clairval?"

"I do whatever you please."

"And you, Monsieur Batonnin?"

"It will be no less flattering than agreeable to me to have the privilege of playing with you. But I think that three-handed bezique is less interesting than two-handed."

"I beg your pardon; it is even more interesting."

Adolphine took her place at the piano, and the count seated himself beside it, darting burning glances at the girl, which she did her utmost to avoid.

Batonnin, who had taken a seat at the card-table, kept turning his head to look toward the piano, in order to see what was going on there, and to try to hear what was being said.

"Shall we play with four packs?"

"Yes; but we must take out two eights, so that the cards will come out even at the end."

"Very good; and how many cards do you deal?"

"Eight to each."

"Some people deal nine."

"That makes it too easy."

"What's the game?"

"Fifteen hundred."

"And the stakes?"

"Whatever you please, messieurs; what shall it be?"

"We don't want to ruin ourselves; say, two francs each."

"Two francs it is."

"I have seen people play for five hundred francs a game," said Batonnin.

"The deuce! that's flying rather high. But when a man's very rich----"

"Oh! it isn't always the richest men who play for the biggest stakes--rather, those who want to pass themselves off for millionaires, and who are in need of money."

"Our excellent Monsieur Batonnin, with all his air of indifference, seems to observe everything."

"I? Oh! dear me, no! I say that because I've heard someone else say it."

"I declare four aces!"

"That's a good beginning."

"I remember now that it's Monsieur Monleard whom I have seen play bezique for five hundred francs a game."

"My son-in-law? Oh! you must be mistaken; he doesn't play so high as that."

"I beg a thousand pardons, but it was he. There's nothing remarkable about that, for he plays whist at his club for a hundred francs a point."

"He has assured me that he doesn't go to his club now."

"I have that fact from someone who played with him, less than a week ago."

"Come, Monsieur Batonnin, its your turn; pray attend to the game."

"I am attending, my dear Monsieur Gerbault; I am paying the closest attention. Ah! that's a very pretty thing Mademoiselle Adolphine is singing!"

"Double bezique!"

"There, you have let Monsieur Clairval make five hundred!"

"I couldn't prevent him, could I?"

"Certainly you could: there were only three tricks left, and you had two aces of trumps."

"Well! that makes only two tricks."

"I would have taken the third with my ace."

"Ah! so you think we could have prevented monsieur from counting his five hundred?"

"That's plain enough. I don't see that you're any stronger at this game than at whist."

"I certainly wouldn't play for five hundred francs a game, like your son-in-law! But I didn't know that there was any skill in bezique; I thought it was all luck."

"You see that it isn't! Indeed, any game can be played well or ill."

"Even lotto?"

"Certainly, you can forget to count."

Adolphine was singing a second selection, when Anatole de Raincy was announced.

The arrival of the young man with the lisp interrupted the music, and seemed greatly to annoy Monsieur de la Beriniere, who decided thereupon to visit the card-table. The game was finished, and Monsieur Clairval had won.

"Take my place," said Monsieur Gerbault to the count.

"Thanks, but I never play bezique with more than two."

"Play with Monsieur Batonnin, then; I will play a game of chess with Clairval, if it's agreeable to him."

"Anything is agreeable to me."

"Unless Monsieur de Raincy would like to play whist with a dummy."

"Oh! I thank you, but I don't care about playing; I much prefer to thing with Mademoithelle Adolphine, if that ith agreeable to her."

"It will give me great pleasure, monsieur."

"I have brought a few thongth, which I thing pathably--tholoth and dueth.--You play everything at thight, I know?"

"I will try, at all events, monsieur; and if they're not too hard----"

"Here'th the aria from _La Dame Blanche_. I can thing that; it ith in the range of my voith."

"Very good! I will play your accompaniment."

"If that young man sings as he talks," muttered Batonnin, with an affable smile at the count, who had taken his place opposite him, "it will produce a strange effect."

"He would do much better to let us listen to Mademoiselle Adolphine."

"Oh! yes, she has a voice----"

"Shall we play for two thousand?"

"That goes to the heart, monsieur."

"And we play with four packs."

"Very well.--But there are some men who have a perfect mania for singing."

"And who often sing false--as, for instance---- I declare four queens!"

While these gentlemen played, Anatole shouted at the top of his voice:

"'Come, lady fair; I await thee, I await thee, I await thee!'"

"That is horrible!" said the count.

"It sounds like the hissing of a railroad train when it stops."

"I have a sequence!"

"It seems that we are not to see Madame Monleard and her husband this evening?"

"No; they have gone to some grand affair.--I declare a single bezique!"

"Ah! Monleard doesn't propose that his little wife shall be bored; they are going to parties all the time."

"Yes; if only it will last.--I declare four kings--eighty!"

"And why shouldn't it last?--Mon Dieu! how that fellow makes my ears ache with his 'I await thee! I await thee!'--I am sorry for Mademoiselle Adolphine."

"Haven't you heard, monsieur le comte,--a simple marriage in diamonds,--that Monsieur Monleard was speculating on the Bourse in a--another marriage, clubs this time--in a terrific way?"

"Faith! no.--Why, I am not counting at all. It's that infernal singer's fault!"

"I have been told for a fact that he has lost a lot of money lately."

"We must never believe more than half of what we're told, you know."

"Double bezique!"

"Deuce take it! how you are beating me! Ah! they're singing a duet now; we shall hear Mademoiselle Adolphine, at all events. If she could only drown that fellow's voice!"

"I have made eleven hundred on this deal."

"And I a hundred and twenty. I am a long way behind. Do we count the fifteen hundred?"

"To be sure; when you get three beziques, they count fifteen hundred. But, in order to count them, you must still have the first two in hand."

"Yes, yes, I know that. What is it they're singing now? Something else from _La Dame Blanche_, I think."

"It's your play, monsieur le comte."

"Yes, so it is; I beg your pardon. It's that man's voice that confuses me, or rather stuns me. Oh! what a squealer! Poor girl! she has a stock of patience."

"I declare a royal marriage!"

"You are counting all the time, Monsieur Batonnin; you are very lucky to be able to attend to your game."

"I try not to listen.--Single bezique!"

It was difficult not to hear the young singer, who at that moment was shouting, with all the force of his lungs:

"'Thith hand, thith hand tho lovely!'"

At last, the duet being at an end, Adolphine declared that she was tired, and left the piano.

"I can well believe that she's tired!" said Monsieur de la Beriniere; "she might well be, for less than that. To play that fellow's accompaniments--to sing with him! what a wicked task!"

"I have won, monsieur le comte!"

"Very good! give me my revenge. I can pay more attention to the game, now that I don't hear that hissing voice; he's a veritable serpent, is that young man."

But Monsieur de Raincy had seated himself beside Adolphine, and he talked to her while the others played. Naturally, they spoke in undertones, in order not to disturb the players. This conversation, of which he could not catch a single word, seemed to annoy the count even more than the music; and Batonnin made the most of his opponent's distraction and misplays, while saying to him in a wheedling tone:

"Monsieur le comte isn't in luck to-night.--I declare a sequence!"

"It's true, I am absent-minded.--Well, Mademoiselle Adolphine, have you stopped singing?"

"Oh! no, monsieur; I am resting."

"For heaven's sake, take care," said Batonnin; "you'll suggest to that young man the idea of beginning again!"

"Why, no; I am talking to Mademoiselle Gerbault. I am sure that Monsieur de Raincy is boring her at this moment. I would like to rid her of him."