Part 21

"Because I have nothing to confide," rejoined Adolphine, in a grave tone; "and it seems to me that monsieur might very well have avoided this subject."

"Excuse me, mademoiselle; I should be much distressed to have offended you; it was my friendship for you which led me to----"

"I myself, monsieur, have never been able to understand the kind of friendship which leads one to say to people point-blank: 'Mon Dieu! how you have changed! you are deathly pale! are you ill? you look very poorly!' If the person to whom you say it is really well, then you have seen awry; if she is really ill, you run the risk of making her worse by frightening her as to her condition. In either case, you see, it would be better to say nothing. Such manifestations of interest resemble those of the friends who can't reach you quickly enough when they have bad news to tell, but whom you never see when you have had any good fortune for which congratulations would be in order."

Monsieur Batonnin bit his lips, and tried to think of an answer; but they had ceased to pay any heed to him, for the door of the salon opened once more, and this time it was Gustave who appeared.

XLV

JOYS AND TORMENTS OF LOVE

The young man, having shaken hands with Monsieur Gerbault, walked toward Adolphine and her sister; it was easy to see how excited and perturbed he was; but Adolphine, whose emotion was even greater perhaps, hastily left her seat and, after responding to Gustave's greeting, went to talk with Monsieur Clairval, who was not playing cards at that moment; so that there was no one to interfere with the interview which Gustave desired to have with her sister.

As for Fanny, she was absolutely unembarrassed; she smiled sweetly on Gustave, greeted him as if she had seen him the day before, and said, pointing to a seat by her side:

"So here you are at last, monsieur le voyageur! Mon Dieu! you seem to be imitating the Wandering Jew nowadays; you travel all the time, you are never at rest. Do you know, monsieur, that your friends are not reconciled to your long absences, and you surely will put an end to your peregrinations--unless you have a fancy to discover a new world?"

Gustave, bewildered by the jocular tone in which the widow addressed him, was unable for a moment to find words in which to reply. Fanny interpreted his confusion to her own advantage, and continued, but with a change of manner, and in an almost sentimental tone:

"Many things have happened since we met."

"Yes, madame; I have heard of the--loss you have sustained; and I beg you to believe that I shared the grief which you must have felt."

"I don't doubt it; you have so much delicacy of feeling, Monsieur Gustave! Yes, I had a very cruel experience, although Monsieur Monleard hardly deserved the tears I shed for him. He was a proud man, overflowing with vanity, hard-hearted, loving only himself, conceited, self-sufficient; but he is dead, I don't mean to speak ill of him, although he left me in a decidedly equivocal position. Ah! if I had known--if I could have foreseen. I have bitterly regretted what--what----" Then, suddenly changing her tone again, and becoming playful once more: "You are just from Berlin, I hear? Is there much fun there? Are the balls gorgeous? do the women dress well? does everybody go to the theatre? The Germans are very fond of music; you must have gone to concerts and evening parties and the play a great deal. Ah! what fortunate creatures men are! They can do whatever they please, while we poor women are obliged to stay at home, and, in many cases, never have anyone come to see us! That's the way I've been living for six months; and I am terribly bored; oh! terribly!"

"You had your sister, at least, to share your troubles."

"My sister! She's a lively creature, isn't she? I don't know what's been the matter with her lately, but she's a regular extinguisher. And then, you know, my temperament isn't like Adolphine's; she is melancholy by nature, and I am very light-headed. Don't you remember, Gustave? Heavens! what a mad creature I am! here I am calling you Gustave, just as I used to before I was married! Does that offend you?"

"Oh! you can't think it; it reminds me of such a happy time!"

"Why, I don't see but that that time has come back; for we are in the same position that we were then--almost."

Gustave could not restrain a sigh at that _almost_. The young widow made haste to continue:

"And now that I am free, that I am my own mistress, won't you do me the favor of coming to see me sometimes, Monsieur Gustave? Won't you have a little pity on the tedium of a poor widow, who was so anxious for you to come back, who talked about you every day with Adolphine?"

"What, madame! can it be true? you have thought sometimes of me?"

"He asks me if I have thought of him! he doubts it!--Is it because you had altogether forgotten me?"

"I, forget you? Ah! that would be impossible! Your lovely features are engraved on my heart, on my mind. Although far from you, I saw you all the time. Ah! Fanny, when one has once loved you.--But, pardon me, madame, I am losing my head; I call you Fanny, as I used."

"That doesn't offend me in the least; on the contrary, I like it. But just see what faces Monsieur Batonnin is making at us! One would say that he was trying to throw his eyes at us. Mon Dieu! how funny he is when he looks like that! Ha! ha! ha! it's enough to kill one."

"Madame Monleard is in great spirits to-night," said Monsieur Clairval to Monsieur Batonnin, who replied:

"I've noticed that she's been in much better spirits ever since she's been a widow."

"That Monsieur Batonnin, with his soft-spoken ways, always has something unkind to say," muttered Madame de Mirallon.

"And he smears honey on his words, to make them go down; that's the custom."

Adolphine had walked mechanically to the piano; she was suffering intensely, she would have liked to leave the salon, but she dared not, because it would have worried her father. To make her misery complete, Monsieur Batonnin joined her.

"Are we going to have the pleasure of hearing you sing, mademoiselle?"

"No, monsieur; I could not possibly sing; I have a very sore throat."

"I trust, mademoiselle, that you are not still offended with me because I thought that you looked ill?"

"Oh! not at all, monsieur; indeed, I think that you must have been right, for I don't feel very well this evening."

"Madame your sister is well enough for two, I judge, she is in such good spirits; she seems to be talking a good deal with that gentleman. Isn't he the same one who was with you one morning when I came to your room with your father?"

"Yes, monsieur; that is he."

"He was very dismal then; it seems that his gloom has disappeared, for he is laughing heartily with your sister. Are they acquainted?"

"Why, to be sure; Monsieur Gustave is an old friend of ours."

"Very good! I said to myself: 'Madame Monleard doesn't stand much on ceremony with that young man; he must be an old acquaintance, at least.'"

To avoid listening any longer to Monsieur Batonnin, Adolphine seated herself by the whist table, and pretended to watch the game; but, sit where she would, she heard her sister's exclamations, whispering, and laughter, and the evening seemed endless to her.

At last the clock struck eleven; Fanny rose and prepared to take her leave. Gustave looked at her, as if undecided as to what he should do, but the young widow observed:

"Monsieur Clairval is playing whist; besides, I don't want him always to have the trouble of going home with me; and as Monsieur Gustave is here, perhaps he would be willing to escort me as far as my door."

Gustave's face beamed; he hastened to say that he should be too happy to offer her his arm. Whereupon, Fanny made haste to say good-night to her father and sister.

The young man, in his turn, went to Adolphine, and said to her in an undertone:

"Dear little sister, I am a very happy man! She has given me permission to call on her; she has even given me to understand that she regrets having refused to marry me; in short, she is touched by my constancy."

"It is well; be happy, that is my dearest wish; and, above all things, go to my sister's; that will be much better, believe me, than to come to court her here."

Gustave was about to reply, but Fanny called him and took him away. Thereupon Adolphine went to her room, saying to herself:

"Such evenings as this are too horrible; I shall not have the courage to endure them often. Oh! let them be happy together! but I pray that he may not come here any more, that I may not be forced to be a witness of his love for another!"

XLVI

IN WHICH CHERAMI ACTS LIKE SAINT ANTHONY

Gustave did not fail to take advantage of the permission Fanny had accorded him. Two days after the party at which they had met, he called upon the young widow, who greeted him thus:

"I began to think that you were off on your travels again, and that we shouldn't see you for another six months."

"Oh! I have no desire to travel now; I am too happy in Paris; especially if you allow me to come to see you."

"What good does it do for me to allow it, when you don't come? I expected you the day before yesterday, I expected you yesterday."

"I was afraid of being presumptuous if I took advantage too soon of the permission you gave me."

"I thought that you wouldn't stand on ceremony, and that we should be on the same terms together as before my marriage to Monsieur Monleard."

These words were accompanied by such a soft glance that Gustave no longer doubted that he was loved. He took Fanny's hand and covered it with kisses; she did not resist, and her hand responded tenderly to the pressure of his. Any other than Gustave would probably have carried further his desires and his acts, but he had long been accustomed to look upon Fanny as the woman whom he wished to make his wife; and in his love there was a sort of respect which her widow's dress could not fail to intensify.

So Gustave confined himself to repeating that he had never ceased to be enamored of her whom he had hoped to call his wife, and that he would be very, very happy if his hopes could be gratified at last. For her part, Fanny gave him to understand that while she might once have been ambitious and fickle, those failings should be charged to her age and consequent giddiness, and that, in reality, her heart had never been in agreement with her vanity.

Then the young widow, by a natural transition, adroitly led Gustave on to speak of his position and prospects. He was assured of ten thousand francs a year if he remained in his uncle's banking-house; he could hope for more in the future; to be sure, Monsieur Grandcourt would not be pleased to have his nephew marry, but he would place no obstacle in the way of the execution of his project. They would not live in the banker's house, but would take pleasant apartments not far from his offices; they would keep no carriage; he would take his wife to the theatre very often, and to the country; he would not give her diamonds, but she should have handsome dresses, and, as she was charming in herself, she would always be the loveliest of women, even if she were not covered with jewels.

In such conversation as this, forming the most attractive plans for the future, the hours which Gustave passed at Fanny's side seemed very short. Being entirely at liberty to see his love at her own home, he went much less to Monsieur Gerbault's. As for Adolphine, she did not go to her sister's at all; for she knew that she would meet Gustave there, and she avoided his presence as much as possible.

Two months passed thus, during which time Cherami saw very little of Gustave, who spent with Fanny all the time that he could spare from his business.

But one morning, just as our lover was starting to call on his enslaver, Cherami caught him on the wing.

"Par la sambleu! my dear Gustave, is there no way of having a word with you? Have you nothing to say to your friend? Or am I no longer your friend? One would say that you avoided me!"

"No, no, my dear Arthur, far from it; it always gives me great pleasure to see you; but you are well aware that I am in love, more in love than ever, and that I pass with Fanny all the time I can steal from my duties."

"Very good! and tell me about this love of yours; sapristi! are you satisfied? Does it go as you want it to this time? Tell me that much, at least."

"Ah! my friend, I am the happiest of men! Fanny loves me; I can't possibly doubt it now. As soon as her mourning is at an end, we are to be married; we are already making our plans, our projects for the future; next month, as it will be almost ten months then, we shall begin to look about for apartments, which I shall have furnished and decorated in advance. I intend that Fanny shall find them fascinating."

"Well, I see that everything is going all right. The little woman is yours this time--and you think so much of her!--And her sister, the good Adolphine--do you still see her?"

"I have seen very little of her lately; she never comes to her sister's, and that surprises me; twice I have tried to talk with Adolphine, to tell her that my marriage to Fanny was settled; but I couldn't find her, she had gone out; for I can't believe that she would have refused to see me--her brother."

"In all this excitement, you haven't thought about a place for me, I suppose?"

"Pardon me, I did mention it to my uncle. He doesn't seem to believe that you are serious in your desire for employment."

"Ah! pardieu, if your uncle has got to have a hand in it, I am very certain that I shall never get a place!"

"Never fear; I will attend to it myself, but there's no hurry. Are you in need of money? Tell me."

"Why, no, I am not in need of money. Do you suppose that I have already gone through the thousand francs you loaned me?"

"But that was more than two months ago, and----"

"True, and formerly I should have seen the last of it in a week; I should have made only seven mouthfuls of it. But to-day it's different! I told you that I had reformed. I have discovered, just at the beginning of Boulevard du Temple, a soup dealer who supplies dinners; and delicious dinners, too, on my word of honor! you don't have a great variety of dishes, to be sure; but everything is good. Excellent roast beef; you would fancy you were in London; and you can dine abundantly for eighteen sous. Eighteen sous! I used to give more than that to the waiter."

"My friend, you shouldn't go to extremes in anything; it seems to me that you are carrying your reformation too far."

"I am very well pleased; I believe that I shall end by living on my five hundred and fifty francs a year; when that time comes, I propose to parade the streets between two clarionets, to exhibit myself."

"After I am married, I will find you a suitable place."

"Make haste and marry, then, that I may have my cue. By the way, I venture to believe that it won't come off without notice to me? I don't ask to be invited to the wedding; that would be presumptuous; but I desire, at least, to salute the bridal couple when they leave the church."

"And I propose that you shall be of the wedding party. We shall not give a ball,--her widowhood is too recent,--but a handsome banquet, and I hope that, on that day, you will forget your reformation. But, adieu! I am late, she is expecting me. You will hear from me soon."

"A mighty good fellow!" said Cherami to himself, as Gustave hurried away; "he deserves to be happy! But will he be, with his Fanny? Hum! I'm none too sure of it. For my part, I should prefer the other; but as he's in love with this one--to be sure, she's a very pretty woman, but I, old fox that I am, I wouldn't trust her!--Sapristi! what do I see? My two little pearls, Laurette and Lucie, and I have money in my pocket! But, no; by Saint Anthony, I will not yield to the temptation! Let's be off before they see me."

Laurette and Lucie were, in fact, coming toward Cherami, both dressed with much coquetry and looking very attractive; but he, after heaving a profound sigh, retreated with so much precipitation, that he ran into the door of an omnibus, which had stopped for a lady; and, being urged by the conductor, he concluded to enter also.

XLVII

THE RETURN FROM ITALY

Several weeks passed. It was a Thursday; and Fanny, who had not been at her father's for a long time, said to Gustave when she saw him during the day:

"I must go to dine with father to-day, my dear; I trust that you will come there this evening?"

"As you will be there, you may be certain that I will come. By the way, I saw that there was an apartment to rent in a nice house on Rue Fontaine. Do you like that quarter?"

"Very much."

"Very well; I will go some time to-day to look at it, and if it seems to me to be suitable I will tell you this evening, so that you can go to see it. For ten months have passed; the time is not very far away when I shall be able to call you my wife! so it is none too soon for me to see about getting an apartment ready."

"Do so, my dear; you can tell me to-night if you have found what we want."

About five o'clock, the widow went to her father's. Monsieur Gerbault always welcomed his daughter kindly, and Adolphine did her utmost to smile on her sister.

"So you're really going to marry Gustave this time, are you?" said Monsieur Gerbault.

"Why shouldn't I, father? Do you think I shall be doing wrong?"

"No--but I regret that you didn't marry him a year ago."

"Why, father, it seems to me that I acted very wisely! Gustave had only a very modest salary then. Monsieur Monleard offered me a fortune, and I could not hesitate; the sequel didn't come up to my hopes; but certainly no one could have foreseen that."

"But you are very lucky to fall in with a man who still loves you after you have once cast him off."

"Mon Dieu! father, if Gustave had not loved me, some other man would have turned up--that's all there is to that."

"Possibly; at all events, I see that you have an answer for everything."

Adolphine listened to her sister with an air of amazement, but she did not venture to make a single reflection; she kept to herself the thoughts which Fanny's remarks inspired; and she avoided, so far as she possibly could, any conversation with her on the subject of her approaching marriage to Gustave.

The evening brought to Monsieur Gerbault's salon his faithful whist players, and Gustave, who shook hands warmly with the man whom he already looked upon as his father-in-law, and affectionately with Adolphine. She, by an involuntary movement, withdrew her hand at first; but the next moment she forced herself to smile, and offered her hand to Gustave, saying:

"I beg your pardon. I thought you were Monsieur de Raincy."

"And she absolutely refuses to give her hand to him," said Fanny, with a laugh, "although he offers his name in exchange for it. Don't you think, Gustave, that she makes a great mistake in refusing that young man?"

"Why so, if she doesn't love him?"

"As if people married for love!"

Realizing that she had said something which might distress Gustave, the young woman hastily added:

"When a woman has never been married, she ought to be reasonable; with a widow, it's different; she can afford to obey the dictates of her heart."

These words speedily restored the serenity of Gustave's brow, which had become a little clouded. A moment later, Monsieur Batonnin arrived, and, having saluted the company, said, with a radiant expression:

"I have just met someone, whom you will probably see this evening, for when I said: 'I am going to pass the evening at Monsieur Gerbault's,' he exclaimed: 'Oh! I mean to go there, too, if only for a moment.'"

"Who is it?" queried Monsieur Gerbault.

"Someone who is very agreeable--just back from Italy. What! can't you guess? Monsieur le Comte de la Beriniere."

"Ah! the dear count! Has he returned?"

"Only yesterday. He instantly asked me for all the news. When I told him that Madame Monleard was a widow, he was tremendously surprised; he couldn't get over it."

"Mon Dieu! how stupid that man is!" muttered Gustave, glancing at Fanny.

Since the announcement of the Comte de la Beriniere's return, she seemed disturbed and preoccupied. In a few moments, she left her seat between her sister and Gustave, went to the window for a moment, as if to get a breath of air, and then, instead of returning to her former seat, sat down near the whist table.

Adolphine followed her sister with her eyes, and did not lose a single one of her movements. Meanwhile, Gustave, seeing Fanny seat herself at a distance, drew nearer to Adolphine, and said:

"Your sister, I see, wishes me to tell you of our delightful plans for the future; for I have had no chance to talk with you lately, dear Adolphine; I have been here several times, but have failed to find you."

"Yes, I know it."

"I think that you are not indifferent to what interests me, that you take pleasure in my happiness. You saw me when I was so unhappy! I am sure that you want to see me happy now."

"Yes, of course I do. A love like yours well deserves to be reciprocated."

Gustave began to lay before Adolphine all the plans he had formed for the future, when he should be her brother-in-law. Adolphine listened with only half an ear; she seemed much more interested in watching her sister, who pretended to take a deep interest in the game of whist; but soon the arrival of the Comte de la Beriniere caused a general movement. Everyone congratulated the traveller on the happy influence which the climate of Italy seemed to have had on his health.

"Yes, I am very well indeed," said the count, who, after bowing coldly to Adolphine, eagerly approached her sister. "Italy's a very beautiful country, but it isn't equal to France, especially Paris! I tell you, there is nothing like our Parisian women; and what I look at first of all, in any country, is the women."

"Still, you have stayed away a long while, monsieur le comte," said the widow, motioning to Monsieur de la Beriniere to take a seat by her side, the gesture being accompanied by her most charming smile.

The count hastened to obey; and said to her, almost in a whisper:

"I have, in truth, been absent more than a year; and, meanwhile, certain things have happened which it was impossible to foresee. Permit me to offer you my condolence on your widowhood."

"Yes, I am a widow, I have become free again; it is more than ten months since it happened. Truly, it could hardly have been anticipated! You must find me greatly changed, do you not? I have grown old and thin--and then, this costume is so dismal!"

"In other words, you are still captivating; indeed, if such a thing were possible, I should say that you are even lovelier than you were. As for your dress--what does that matter? You adorn whatever you wear."

"Oh! monsieur le comte, you flatter me; you don't mean what you say."

"Do I not? I mean it and feel it; you are an enchantress!"

"Italy is where you must have seen the pretty women!"

"Yes, there are many of them there; but I say again, they can't hold a candle to Parisian women in general, and to you in particular."

"Oh! hush! Are you no longer in love with my sister?"

"Your sister? Faith! no; she refused my hand; I bear her no ill-will for it; for, frankly, I am very glad of it now."

"Why so, pray?"

"Oh! I can't tell you here."

"Very well! then you must come to see me, and tell me."

"Do you give me leave to come to pay my respects to you?"

"More than that, I count upon it."

"You are adorable."