Part 22

It seemed to Gustave that Fanny's conversation with the count was unconscionably long. He could not see all the coquettish little grimaces with which the widow accompanied her words, because she had taken pains to turn her chair so that she was not facing the man she was to marry; but he thought it very strange that Fanny could pass so long a time without thinking of him, without wanting him near her. The young man walked through the salon, gazing at the young widow, and sometimes stopping beside her. She did not appear to pay the slightest heed to him.

Being unable longer to control his impatience, he decided to interrupt their conversation, and said aloud to Fanny:

"My dear Fanny, I went to-day to see that apartment on Rue Fontaine--you know--that I spoke to you about this morning?"

The widow was perceptibly annoyed. However, she replied, with a surprised air:

"What! what apartment? I don't remember. Oh! yes, yes, I know what you mean."

"Well, the apartment is very well arranged and very attractive. I am confident that you will like it; but you must look at it immediately, for the chances are that it will be let very soon."

"Very well, very well; I will go to look at it.--Oh! Monsieur de la Beriniere, you went to Naples, didn't you? Did you see Vesuvius vomit flame? That is something I am very curious to see. Do tell me what a volcano is like?"

Gustave walked away, far from satisfied. It seemed to him that his future spouse was too deeply interested in Italy. He returned to Adolphine, lost in thought, and sat down beside her. She said nothing, but she looked at him and read his thoughts.

Monsieur Gerbault succeeded at last in talking with the count. Whereupon Gustave returned to Fanny, and said to her:

"Aren't we going? You said that you should go home early."

But the little widow, who did not choose to have the count see her go away with Gustave, replied:

"It's too early; my father would be angry if I should go now."

"But you said----"

"Mon Dieu! you seem to be in a great hurry to go!"

Gustave bit his lips and said no more. Monsieur Batonnin joined him, and said with a smile:

"You don't seem to be doing anything, Monsieur Gustave. Don't you play cards?"

"I don't care for cards, monsieur."

"You prefer to talk with the ladies--I can understand that. You have been travelling, too; and the ladies like to hear about travels. Have you seen any volcanoes?"

"No, monsieur."

And Gustave turned his back on Batonnin, who smiled at his own reflection in a mirror.

The count soon took his hat, and was about to withdraw, without a word, as the custom is in society; but Fanny, who had kept her eyes on him, found an excuse for standing in his path, and said to him in an undertone:

"I shall expect you to-morrow."

Monsieur de la Beriniere replied by a graceful inclination, and disappeared.

A few moments later, Fanny said to Gustave:

"Well, monsieur; if you want to go, I am at your service."

"I am at yours, rather, madame."

"Let us go."

Adolphine went up to Gustave of her own motion, and pressed his hand affectionately.

In the street, the young man began:

"Monsieur de la Beriniere's conversation evidently interested you very much? You talked with nobody but him; you left your sister and me, and forgot all about us."

"Why, I enjoyed listening to what he told me about Italy. He is very pleasant, and amusing to listen to. I didn't suppose that you would see any harm in that."

"I see no harm in the conversation; but I am horribly bored when you talk to anybody else for long. I am sorry that you don't feel the same way."

"Oh! what childishness! As if I were not always there!--How my head does ache! I shall have a sick headache to-morrow, I am sure."

"You will go to look at that apartment, won't you?"

"Yes, if my head doesn't ache; but if it does, I certainly shall not stir from my bed."

They arrived at Fanny's door, and the future husband and wife parted much more coldly than usual.

The next morning, the young widow gave these orders to her servant:

"If Monsieur le Comte de la Beriniere calls, you will admit him at once. If Monsieur Gustave comes, you will tell him that I have a sick headache, that I am asleep; and you will not let him in on any pretext. Do you understand?"

"Yes, madame."

Fanny took the greatest pains with her hair, her dress, and every part of her toilet; she omitted nothing that was adapted to captivate, to dazzle, to seduce.

At one o'clock, Monsieur de la Beriniere was ushered into the pretty creature's boudoir, where she awaited him, seated in a graceful attitude on a sofa, and motioned him to a seat by her side.

"You see, fair lady, that I take advantage of the permission accorded me," said the count, gallantly kissing Fanny's little hand.

"It was presumptuous in me, perhaps, to tell you that I expected you; but I wanted to talk with you, and one has little chance to talk in society."

"You give me the most delicious pleasure--a tete-a-tete with you! It is a priceless favor to me. It is very true that in society it is difficult to say--all that one thinks; and last night, at your father's, there was a young man who seemed to be vexed at our conversation."

"Oh! Gustave.--He's an old play-fellow of mine."

"An old play-fellow? Isn't he something more than that?"

"What! what do you mean?"

"Stay, charming widow, I will explain my meaning without beating about the bush. Yesterday, when he told me that you were a widow, Monsieur Batonnin told me also that you were to marry again very soon."

"Mon Dieu! what a chatterbox that Monsieur Batonnin is! what business is it of his?"

"It is quite possible that he's a chatterbox; but, tell me, is it the truth? Are you going to marry Monsieur Gustave, your old play-fellow?"

"Yes, it is true that there has been some talk of marriage between us; but it's a long way from that to an actual marriage."

"Really--you are not actually engaged to him?"

"Engaged? Not by any means!"

"But--that apartment that he spoke about last night, that he asked you to go to look at?"

"Why, it's an apartment that he is thinking of renting for himself, and he wants my advice as to the arrangement of the rooms; because a woman understands such things better than a man, don't you see? But now it's your turn, monsieur le comte, to tell me why you are so anxious to know whether my hand is at my disposition."

"Why, charming creature! can't you guess why? Don't you remember what I said to you one day, at your own house, soon after your marriage? I said: 'Monleard has been smarter than I, he has got ahead of me; for, if it had not been for him, I would have asked you to be Comtesse de la Beriniere.'--Very good; what I could not do then, I should be very happy to do to-day. Now, you see, I don't propose to lose any time and let some other man get ahead of me; I go straight to the point. If you are not engaged, I offer you my name and my fortune; I will transform you into a fascinating countess."

"Oh! monsieur le comte, can I believe you? do you really mean what you say? I most certainly am not engaged--but my sister--you loved her?"

"I thought of your sister for a moment, solely with a view of entering your family. You cannot fear to make her unhappy by accepting my hand, since she refused it."

"True, the little fool! I wouldn't have refused it, I can tell you!"

"Very well; then you accept now--you consent to become a countess? Give me your hand, as a token of your consent."

Fanny pretended to be embarrassed, and lowered her eyes; but she gave her hand to the count, who threw himself at her feet, crying:

"I am the happiest of men!"

During this interview, Gustave had called and asked for Fanny; but the maid said to him:

"It is impossible for you to see her, monsieur; she has a sick headache; she is asleep, and told me not to wake her."

"And her order applies to me too?"

"Oh! yes, monsieur; you cannot see madame; her headache's very bad."

XLVIII

WOMAN CHANGES OFT

Gustave returned to his office sadly out of temper. He was surprised that for a headache Fanny should refuse to see him; he said to himself that, if he were ill, the presence of his loved one could not fail to do him good and cure him at once. Then, in spite of himself, he recalled Fanny's conduct at her father's, her evident pleasure in conversing with Monsieur de la Beriniere, while she barely listened to what he, Gustave, said to her. All this distressed and worried him. He could not be jealous of the count, who was sixty years old, but he was displeased with Fanny; and while he sought excuses for her, saying to himself that a young woman was not debarred from being a little coquettish, from liking to cut a figure in society, he feared, nevertheless, that she was not capable of loving as he loved.

We often hear of presentiments; but, in most cases, these presentiments are simply the assembling of our memories so as to form a new light, which enlightens our minds, destroys our illusions, undeceives our hearts. With the aid of this new light, we foresee the treachery that lies in wait for us, and we say: "I had a presentiment of it."

Gustave returned to Fanny's that evening; it was natural enough that he should be anxious to know whether the headache had disappeared. The servant informed him that madame had gone out.

"Gone out!" cried Gustave; "she is better, then?"

"_Dame_! yes, monsieur; it's evident that madame has got rid of her sick headache."

"Where has she gone?"

"I don't know, monsieur."

"And she left no message for me, if I came?"

"Not a word."

"Has she gone to her father's?"

"I said that I didn't know."

"Very well; I will come again. Ask her to wait for me, when she returns."

The young man hurried to Monsieur Gerbault's. He found Adolphine alone. She read at once on his face that he was suffering, and asked him as she took his hand:

"What has happened, my friend? Something is the matter."

"Why---- Have you seen your sister to-day?"

"No."

"You have not?"

"No, she hasn't been here. Why do you ask?"

"Because I haven't seen her to-day, either. This morning, I called on her; I was told that she had a headache and was asleep. But this evening I called again, and she had gone out."

"Well, she has probably gone to see some of her friends. She has retained some acquaintances from the time when her husband was living, and she goes to see them sometimes. I can see nothing disturbing in that."

"But, after a whole day without seeing each other, to go out in the evening without saying where she's going--without leaving a word for me!"

"Fanny is so thoughtless; she probably forgot."

"Dear Adolphine! you try to excuse your sister, but I am sure that you blame her, at the bottom of your heart. Don't you remember how unkind she was to me last night?"

"Why, I didn't notice----"

"Yes, yes, you did notice that she left us to go and talk with that Monsieur de la Beriniere. Who is that man? wherever did she know him?"

"He was a friend of her husband, and in that way became acquainted with father."

"Is he rich?"

"He has forty thousand francs a year."

"Married?"

"No, he's an old bachelor; he asked father once for my hand."

"And you refused him?"

"Yes."

"You thought him too old, didn't you?"

"That wasn't the reason; but I refused him."

"Do you know, Adolphine, I have no idea what is going on in Fanny's head, but all this isn't natural. At the point we have reached,--we are to be married in six weeks, and we are both free,--two people don't pass a whole day without exchanging a glance, or a grasp of the hand. I tell you, there's something wrong. Could she deceive me again? Oh! no, that isn't possible; it would be too ghastly! too shameless!--No, I blush for having had such a thought. I have no doubt that she is at home and waiting for me. Au revoir, little sister!"

"Gustave, if anything should happen, you would tell me at once, wouldn't you?"

But Gustave did not hear; he was already at the foot of the stairs, and he hurried away to Fanny's house. She had not returned; he remembered the apartment he had asked her to inspect, and, although it was hardly customary to look at apartments in the evening, he said to himself: "Perhaps she has gone there." And in a few moments he was in Rue Fontaine. He inquired of the concierge who had the keys to the apartment, and was told that no lady had come that day to look at it.

One more hope dashed to the ground: as Fanny had gone out, why had she not gone to inspect the apartment of which he had spoken so highly the night before, telling her that they must make haste lest it should be rented to others? Gustave said all this to himself as he returned to Madame Monleard's abode. She had not returned; but it was only nine o'clock; she must return sooner or later, and Gustave was determined not to go to bed until he had seen her and spoken to her, even if he had to pass half the night on sentry-go before her door. But a woman, unattended, was unlikely to stay out late; she could not have gone to a ball; ladies did not go alone to the theatre; so she must be at some small party; someone would probably escort her home, but he would find out who her escort was.

How many ideas pass through the mind of a jealous, worried lover in a few seconds! The imagination moves so fast that it does not know where to stop, or on what to decide. Every moment that passed without bringing Fanny added to Gustave's anxiety, his suffering, his suspicions. At last, about half-past ten, a cab stopped in front of the house. Gustave ran forward and was at the door before the cabman had alighted from his box. Fanny was in the cab, alone. When she recognized Gustave in the man who opened the door for her, she laughed heartily and cried:

"Ah! you open carriage-doors now, do you? Ha! ha! I congratulate you on your new trade."

This outburst of merriment seemed untimely, to say the least, to Gustave, who rejoined:

"I have no choice but to wait for cabs to arrive, as I fail to find you at home; as you go out without even leaving a line for me so that I may know where you are."

"Oh! mon Dieu! what a terrible crime! Am I no longer my own mistress--to go where I please without asking your leave? That would be very amusing!"

"You know very well, Fanny, that that isn't what I mean; you know that you are at liberty to do whatever you choose to do. So do not try to dodge the question. At the point we have reached, it is natural for us to tell each other what we do; for we ought to have no secrets from each other. I came here this morning, and you didn't see me on account of your headache."

"Well, monsieur, am I no longer allowed to have a headache? Pay the cabman, will you; I have come from Madame Delabert's.--Can I no longer visit my friends, I should like to know?"

"Come, come, Fanny, don't be angry; perhaps I was foolish to be anxious. But it would have been so easy for you to leave word for me! Remember that I haven't seen you at all to-day, and a whole day without seeing you seems very long now!"

"It isn't my fault if I have a sick headache. I can still feel the effects of it, so I am going to bed; I am very tired."

"Mayn't I come up with you for a moment?"

"Oh! I should think not! it wouldn't be proper, so late."

"It isn't eleven yet."

"But I tell you that I still feel the effects of my headache, and that I am going straight to bed."

"Why didn't you go to see that apartment I told you about--on Rue Fontaine, near Place Saint-Georges?"

"Why didn't I? Because I forgot all about it."

"How could you forget a thing of such importance? For, if it suits you, we must rent it at once."

"Oh! my dear friend, I am not anxious to stand here in the street any longer. What do we look like--talking like this on a doorstep?"

"Then let me come up a moment."

"No; I tell you that I am going to bed!"

"There's something wrong, Fanny. This isn't natural. You're not the same with me that you were two days ago."

"You can tell me all that to-morrow. Good-night!"

"Very well, until to-morrow, then, madame! I trust that you will be visible?"

"Mon Dieu! monsieur, I am always visible when I am not sick. But don't come too early; for I don't rise with the dawn."

Fanny knocked, and the door opened. She hurried in and closed the door on Gustave, who remained in the street, poor fellow, unable to make up his mind to leave his fair one's abode. He did not know what to believe. He asked himself if he had not done wrong to reproach Fanny; she had been to see one of her friends, and had returned alone: there was no great harm in that. And yet, he was ill at ease, he suffered; his heart told him that something was wrong, and that his love was not the same to him as before.

At last, after pacing back and forth in front of Fanny's door for nearly an hour, gazing at those of her windows which were lighted, he decided to go away when the lights went out.

"I wish to-morrow were here," he thought.

Gustave did not close his eyes that night; where is the lover who could sleep, in his position? Only a lover who is not in love. At eight o'clock, the young man went down to the office, where there were as yet no clerks; but he found his uncle, who was always at his desk early.

"The deuce!" said Monsieur Grandcourt; "you're on hand in good season! Was it love of work that woke you?"

"Yes, uncle; I have some accounts to look over."

"How pale you look, and exhausted! One would say that you had been up all night."

"I am just out of bed."

"I'll wager that you didn't sleep. Is there anything new in your love affair?"

"Why--no, uncle."

"Your dear Fanny hasn't played you some new trick?"

"Ah! uncle, at the point we have reached----"

"It wouldn't surprise me at all."

"You have a very bad opinion of her."

"When a woman has made a fool of a man once, she will make a fool of him again--she will always do it! However, it would be better before marriage than after. Come and breakfast with me."

"It's too early, uncle; I am not hungry. By the way, have you thought about Arthur?"

"Who's Arthur?"

"Arthur Cherami; a good, honest fellow who is looking for a place."

"Ah! your tall swashbuckler, who has such a scampish look--always ready to fly at you? Upon my word, you are not fortunate in your friendships! What sort of a place do you suppose anyone would give to that fellow? He doesn't inspire the slightest confidence in me. He was rich once, and he squandered his whole property: a fine recommendation!"

"I believe that you judge him too harshly. A man may have done foolish things, and have turned over a new leaf. With you, uncle, repentance counts for nothing."

"Repentance has one great defect in my eyes: it never comes till after the wrong-doing. If a man could repent before he went wrong, that is to say, stop before he fell, then I should have a much higher opinion of repentance. Well, where are you going? leaving the office already?"

Gustave could not keep still. He left the office, and ran all the way to Fanny's house; then stopped and looked at his watch. It was barely nine o'clock; impossible to call upon her so early. The young man walked up Faubourg Poissonniere and kept on past the barrier; little he cared where he went, so long as the time passed. Suddenly he ran into a tree, which his complete absorption in his thoughts had prevented his seeing. At that, he halted and looked about him, and was surprised to find that he was in the open country. But he felt that the air was keener and purer there, that it refreshed the mind and calmed the beating of the heart; and he sat down at the foot of the tree. He breathed more freely, he felt sensibly relieved. Ah! what a skilful physician the air is, and what marvellous cures we owe to it!

Gustave sat for a long while at the foot of the tree, which was bare of leaves; for it was late in October. He reviewed in his mind the whole of Fanny's conduct during the last two days, and wondered if his uncle were right after all. At last he rose and returned to Paris. It was nearly eleven o'clock when he reached the young widow's door. But he could wait no longer; he rang the bell violently, and the maid ushered him into her mistress's presence.

XLIX

THE SECOND TIME

Fanny was sitting by the fire, in a dainty morning gown; for she was a woman who never allowed herself to be surprised in deshabille; but her expression was cold and stern, as of a person who had made up her mind and was prepared for a rupture.

"I have come a little early, I fear," said Gustave, taking a seat, and seeking in vain an affable smile on the widow's features; "but you will surely forgive my impatience, I was so anxious to see you. I had almost no chance to speak to you last night, and I had so many things to say!"

"I, too, wished to speak with you, monsieur. I, too, have several things to say to you."

"_Monsieur!_ What! you call me _monsieur?_ What does that mean?"

"In heaven's name, let us not quibble over words. If I call you _monsieur_ now, I do so in consequence of certain reflections I have made since yesterday. Do you know that I don't like to be followed, spied upon; that a jealous man is an unendurable creature to me?"

"Ah! you are trying to quarrel with me, madame?"

"No, I am not; but I am telling you frankly the subject of my reflections; and the result of those reflections is----"

"Is what? go on, madame."

"Is that I am afraid that I shall not make you happy, Gustave. I am naturally giddy, frivolous,--but I cannot change,--and my temperament would not harmonize at all with yours. Consequently we shall do much better not to marry. Oh! I have come to this decision solely in my solicitude for your happiness."

Gustave sprang to his feet so suddenly that the little widow could not restrain a gesture of terror. He took his stand in front of her, with folded arms, and gazed sternly at her, saying:

"So this is what you were aiming at--a rupture! And you dare to accuse me of spying, to try to put me in the wrong! to accuse me, when my conduct was simply the consequence of your own! Oh! don't think to deceive me again. Some other motive is behind your action. You have formed other plans."

"That does not concern you, monsieur! I believe that I am entirely free! I trust that you will spare me your reproaches. Well-bred people simply part--they don't quarrel over it."

"Never fear, madame; I shall not forget that you are a woman. But to play this trick upon me again--ah! it is shameful! Fanny, is it true? did I hear aright? Only two days ago, you were forming plans with me for our life to come, your hand pressed mine, you asked me if I would always love you."

"Justine, bring me some wood; the fire's going out."

The tone in which the young woman summoned her maid, having apparently paid no heed to Gustave, capped the climax of his exasperation; he strode up and down the room two or three times, then went to Fanny as if to give full vent to his wrath; but he checked himself, and, having bestowed upon her a glance in which were concentrated all his outraged feelings, he abruptly left the room without looking back.

For several hours thereafter, Gustave was like a madman; he was so unprepared for the blow, that he could hardly believe in its reality. He returned home and locked himself in his room; he dreaded to meet his uncle and hear him say:

"I prophesied what has happened."

He preferred to be alone, so that he could abandon himself to his grief; and for some time he could not keep from weeping over his lost happiness, although he told himself that Fanny did not deserve the tears she caused him to shed. Then he cudgelled his brain to divine what could have caused this sudden change in her ideas.

He determined to leave Paris again, to go away without a word to anyone; but the next day he went to see Adolphine, to tell her of his new unhappiness.

Fanny's sister seemed to be expecting his visit; she held out her hand as soon as he appeared, saying: