Part 6

Madame de la Fère turned to Juliette, who with a supplicating look seemed to entreat her to forget what she had said. The chevalier sat down, for he could scarcely stand; nevertheless his gaiety never forsook him, as long as his strength remained; but they felt that it was sinking with every sentence. Juliette laid a cover for him, and placed a chair at the table, for he was so much fatigued that he seemed scarcely able to move. When the soup was served, and the chevalier, with his accustomed politeness, wished to pass to her the first plate, she entreated him to keep it with so much earnestness, that he could not refuse. She then raised her eyes to her mother as if to ask forgiveness: Madame de la Fère smiled, and joy returned to Juliette's heart. She was at length helped in her turn, and thought she had never enjoyed anything so much; while Raymond, who, until then, fancied he disliked carrots and turnips, did not leave a single bit of them upon his plate. A piece of beef, and a dish of vegetables, appeared to all this family a magnificent repast. How happy the poor chevalier felt, at finding himself once more seated, and at table, and in the midst of his friends! How he amused Raymond and Juliette, by relating his campaigns and adventures! M. Fiddler, knowing that M. de la Fère had a friend to dinner, had requested permission to send in a couple of bottles of good wine, and M. de la Fère, who was no longer afraid of being obliged to have recourse to compassion, considered that he ought not to refuse a friendly present. The wine completely restored to the chevalier his strength, his originality, and even his hopes. By the time the dinner was over, he had completely forgotten that he had not a sou, that he had not a shirt, that his shoes were without soles, and his coat almost without sleeves; his friends had equally forgotten it, for on this day no one thought of the future, and it passed away in the enjoyment of a degree of happiness of which those who have never suffered can form no conception. At night, M. Fiddler lent them a bed, and the chevalier slept in the room occupied by M. de la Fère and Raymond, who could hardly sleep from the joy he felt at having a new companion.

The following morning, M. de la Fère said to the chevalier: "Well! you remain with us; but every one in this house works,--what can you do?"

"Faith, not much," said the chevalier. "I can attend to the house, go of errands, and see to the cooking, when there is any," for they had related to him the history of the eight days' fast. "Oh, I forgot," he continued, "I have a marvellous talent for mending old clothes. Look!" and he showed them his coat, which was hanging in tatters at all points. Every one laughed; but on a closer examination, they found, that if indeed the chevalier's coat was thus torn, it had been previously well mended. "This," said he, "is the only talent I have as yet needed; set me to work, and perhaps some other will spring up." It was agreed that, for the present, he should confine himself to the exercise of his talents as a tailor, upon the remains of his coat, in order to make it look somewhat more respectable, while he was waiting for a better; and that he should undertake the rough work, while the family was occupied in executing the orders, which were now numerous and pressing. A few days after, M. Fiddler consented to let them have, instead of the pavilion which they occupied, and which was unsuited to their present circumstances, a much smaller dwelling, to which was attached a little garden; this the chevalier undertook to cultivate, and it supplied them with some fruit and vegetables. He also prepared the card-board for the boxes and screens, and even chimney ornaments, and pendule cases, which were made by M. de la Fère and his son. These productions, as well as those of Madame de la Fère, became quite the fashion in the country. The chevalier took them to the neighbouring fairs, where, at the same time, he found opportunities of making more advantageous purchases than in the town. M. de la Fère gave him a per-centage on all he bought and sold for him, so that in a short time he was able to carry on a small trade on his own account, in which he displayed considerable ability. Raymond often accompanied him in these excursions, and thus began to acquire a knowledge of business. As for Madame de la Fère, who added to her skill in embroidery, a talent for millinery, she had soon so much to do that she was obliged to take work-women, and she opened a shop, to which people came from all parts, to get the French fashions, of which the chevalier, by his activity, contrived to obtain for her the patterns. When their circumstances had so much improved, that there was no longer any danger of another fast, M. de la Fère said to Raymond and Juliette, "My children, you have hitherto worked for the benefit of the community, it is but just that you should also work for yourselves; I give you each a louis d'or, you now know what it is capable of producing, turn it to profit on your own account."

They did turn it to so good a use, that it served for their maintenance during the remainder of the time they continued abroad. M. and Madame de la Fère, when they returned to France, had acquired by their industry, a sufficient sum to repurchase a portion of their property which had been sold, and the Chevalier de Villon, who remained with them, was in a condition to pay them a small sum annually. As to Raymond, he had acquired habits of business and industry, and Juliette those of activity and economy. She had also learned never to close her heart to the miseries of others, as sometimes happens with those who are very much engrossed by their own trials; but it was in the midst of the anxieties of a most painful position, that Juliette had seen how little it sometimes costs to alleviate a great misfortune, and it was the louis d'or which had taught her all this.

CONTINUATION OF THE HISTORY OF A LOUIS D'OR.

The louis d'or paid by Madame de la Fère to the merchant from whom she had bought the lawn for her first handkerchiefs, was passed by him to a fellow-tradesman, who was going to another town of Germany, where he was established as a dealer in lace. Among the workpeople who supplied him, was a young girl named _Victorine_, a refugee like M. and Madame de la Fère. Victorine worked for the support of her godmother, Madame d'Alin, an elderly person who had formerly been well off; but the dread of the revolution had seized upon her to such a degree, that almost at the very outbreak she precipitately quitted France, without taking any precautions to preserve her property, and without any money but what she happened to have at the moment for her current expenses. Thinking only of flight, she took no one with her but her godchild Victorine, the daughter of one of her old servants, whom she had brought up. She had had her instructed in every kind of female employment; and when they fell into misfortune, Victorine, who, though scarcely seventeen years of age, possessed both sense and courage, set herself vigorously to work for her godmother, whom age, delicate health, and weakness of character, rendered incapable of overcoming the difficulties of such a situation.

The first thought of Victorine, when they found themselves without means, had been to sell a piece of lace, which she had just finished for herself. Having succeeded in disposing of it, she continued this kind of work. She could not devote to it as much time as she wished, having to attend to the domestic arrangements, and to wait upon Madame d'Alin, who was not accustomed to do anything for herself. Occasionally also she had to read aloud to Madame d'Alin, who was sometimes a little vexed that she could not do so more frequently. Victorine often felt annoyed at being disturbed from her work, but she did not display this feeling; for she knew that her godmother was so kind, that had she perceived it, she would have deprived herself of many pleasures and dispensed with many services, which habit had rendered necessary to her.

Notwithstanding these interruptions, Victorine's labour was sufficient to provide for their ordinary wants; but it was only just sufficient. The least additional expense would have deranged everything, and since they had been in Germany, their wardrobes had not been renewed. Madame d'Alin suffered no inconvenience on this account, because she went out so rarely that her dresses were but little used, so that the clothes she had brought with her were sufficient for a long time; but Victorine's stock, never very considerable, was soon exhausted, and the poor girl, notwithstanding her good sense, was not insensible to the annoyance of going out in a dress the different parts of which did not well match the pattern, and the sleeves of which only reached half way down her arm; for she had grown. Madame d'Alin, who was kindness itself, and who was extremely fond of Victorine, endeavoured to improve matters by giving her some of her own dresses; but the dresses of Madame d'Alin, who was small and thin, while Victorine was very tall and rather stout, suited her still worse than those which had, at least, been made for her; and although her godmother's bonnet and old mantle preserved her from the cold and rain, they gave her so strange an appearance, that she could not help being a little uncomfortable when she had to go into the streets thus muffled up, and especially when she entered the shop where she sold her lace. She longed for the time when she should be able to buy a dress and bonnet in the fashion of the country, and as everything was very cheap there, and Victorine had no desire to dress expensively, she hoped to be able to accomplish her wish for a sum of about a louis.

The possession of this louis, then, was the object of her ambition: she thought of it night and day, and pictured to herself the delight she should feel the first time she went out dressed like other people: but she must first be able to spare a louis, and to accomplish this was no easy matter; for Victorine, from the situation in which she was placed, and the whole responsibility of which devolved upon her, had acquired such habits of economy, that she would never have run the risk of spending so considerable a sum, without having in advance sufficient money and work for several months. She had then put a louis aside, but determined not to purchase her dress and bonnet until she had collected a certain sum. At first she was very far from the point, then some weeks of cheapness and the talent which she had acquired for economy enabled her to increase her store. Sometimes it augmented so rapidly that she hoped to see it soon complete; but all at once the price of vegetables was raised, or the bushel of charcoal had gone more quickly: then the treasure ceased to increase: Victorine no longer knew when it would be complete, and the slightest accident which happened to diminish it made her lose all hope. Then would she add another patch to her dress, which, in the anticipation of a new one, she had a little neglected, and for several days her heart would be sad, and she would feel some difficulty in working with her usual diligence and pleasure.

One day when she happened to be in a happier mood, she carried her work to the dealer, who, in paying her, said, "See! here is some of the money of your own country." And he showed her the louis. Victorine, on beholding it, was greatly moved; it was so long since she had seen a French coin. Oh! how she longed to possess it! But it was in vain that she calculated; the sum owing to her in the currency of the country did not amount to a louis. At last she begged the shopkeeper to save it for her, promising in a short time to bring sufficient work to make up the amount. In fact, the desire of possessing this louis redoubled her energies. Shortly afterwards she went to obtain it, brought it away with great delight, and as everything was referred to her favourite idea, she determined to purchase with it her dress and bonnet, as soon as she was able. This was the louis d'or which she had put by, and which she kept so carefully.

The increased quantity of work which she had for some time executed, in order to obtain it the sooner, together with a few weeks favourable to her economy, brought her near the accomplishment of her wishes. At length the day arrived when the work she was to take home would complete the necessary amount, provided the provisions she had to purchase did not exceed a certain price. The provisions happened to be cheap, and Victorine, overjoyed, stopped on her way back at the shop of a linendraper with whom she was acquainted, and selected a pattern, in order to increase the pleasure she would have in buying it; and perhaps, also, that she might the sooner have the gratification of telling some one that she was going to purchase a dress. She had not yet communicated her intention to Madame d'Alin, but she felt quite sure of her approbation. After having made her choice, she returned home, almost running, to leave her provisions, and to fetch her louis. On entering, she opened the door so hastily, that Madame d'Alin, who did not expect her, started, and her spectacles, which were lying on her knee, fell, and both the glasses were broken. "Good heavens!" exclaimed Madame d'Alin, partly from fright, and partly from the vexation she felt at having broken her glasses. As for Victorine, she remained motionless. The pleasure which she had promised herself was so great, that her vexation was proportionally extreme. At length, taking the spectacles from the hands of Madame d'Alin, with a movement of impatience, which she could not control, she said, "Now, then, there are some glasses to be bought!"

"No, my child," replied Madame d'Alin, mildly, "I will do without them." Victorine felt that she had done wrong; and telling her godmother, in a tone of greater gentleness, that she could not do without glasses, she went out to replace them. However, in calling on the linendraper to tell him that she should not buy the dress, she had to turn away her head, that he might not see the tears which started to her eyes.

She purchased the glasses, returned home, and was greatly astonished at finding with Madame d'Alin a man, whom she did not at first recognize, so little did she think it possible for him to be there. It was the steward of the little estate on which Madame d'Alin usually resided. He had come from France for the purpose of informing his mistress that there was no longer the slightest danger in returning; that she had not been put upon the list of emigrants; that her tenant, who was an honest man, had punctually paid his rent; and that he himself, having been unable to transmit to her the money, had allowed it to accumulate, and had now come to seek her, in order that she might return home. Madame d'Alin, while listening to him, was agitated between hope and fear; and as for Victorine, she was so troubled, that she knew not what she felt. Though she had longed to revisit France, yet this had appeared to her a thing so impossible, that she had never dwelt upon the idea; but from this moment it took such possession of her mind, that she could think of nothing else, and her entreaties and arguments, added to those of the steward, as well as the representations of several of the friends of Madame d'Alin, from whom he had brought letters, which her spectacles now enabled her to read, made her resolve on returning. The day was fixed for their departure; and Victorine, for whom her godmother immediately bought a dress and bonnet, having no need of her louis for this purpose, reserved it, in order to buy, when she got back to France, something which might afford her very great pleasure.

On her return, she was for a long time unable to decide on the manner in which she should employ it. Madame d'Alin, who regarded her as her own child, supplied her abundantly with everything she required, and as she was too much accustomed to economy to have any very strong fancies, she always kept it for some better opportunity than had as yet presented itself. Besides, when after some stay in Paris, they returned to the little estate of Madame d'Alin, Victorine was placed at the head of her household, and as she found many things which required to be put in order, she was too much occupied to think about spending her louis. At length, one of her relatives, a servant, in a town a few leagues distant, having occasion to visit her, spoke of the difficulty she felt in managing with her low wages, having her mother to support, whose strength no longer permitted her to do much. Victorine thought that the best use she could make of her louis, was to give it to her friend; the latter promised to send it as soon as possible to her mother, who was called _Old Mathurine_, and who resided two leagues distant from her. As to Victorine, she shortly after married the son of the honest steward, who had so well preserved the fortune of his mistress. While Madame d'Alin lived, they took care of her, as if they had been her own children, and at her death, she left them a considerable part of her property.

You see, continued M. de Cideville, how much time and trouble are sometimes required in order to obtain a louis d'or. The following story will show you how many vexations might sometimes be avoided by the possession of a sum much less considerable.

THE TEMPTATIONS.

Madame de Livonne, after having been in affluent circumstances, had fallen into, a state of great poverty. Being left a widow, with her daughter Euphemia, who was about twelve years of age, and having only distant relations, who were far from wealthy, and to whom she did not wish to be a burden, she took the reasonable and courageous resolution of providing, by her own exertions, for herself and daughter. She therefore established herself in a small town where she was unknown, that she might be able to live as she pleased, without being obliged to go into company, or receive visits. She applied herself to plain work, with Euphemia, who was gentle and reasonable, and who loved her mother, whom she had seen very unhappy, so tenderly, that provided she saw her tranquil, nothing troubled her. It was not because Euphemia did not, at first, experience much difficulty in accustoming herself to certain privations which daily increased, or to duties somewhat repugnant to her feelings; but she found her mother so ready to neglect herself on her account, and so anxious to spare her as much as possible everything that was disagreeable, that she felt eager to anticipate her, and made a pleasure of what would otherwise have been a pain. Thus, for instance, she had no fancy for counting the linen, or washing the dishes, but if she could manage to be the first to see the laundress, she hastened to give her the clothes, delighted with the thought that her mother would not have to do it; and after dinner she generally contrived to surprise her, by washing and arranging the things before Madame de Livonne rose from table, who, upon seeing what was done, would embrace her child with the greatest tenderness.

With the happiness which these attentions caused, would sometimes mingle a feeling of melancholy and uneasiness, relative to the future prospects of Euphemia; but Madame de Livonne possessed so much fortitude, that she was enabled to overcome her fears, and to place her trust in Providence. Besides, there could not well be any sadness where Euphemia was, for she laughed and sung over all she did, and her mother, who was still young, and had a pleasing voice, often joined in her songs. In the evening, when the weather was fine, they walked into the country, and Euphemia, after having been shut up all day, enjoyed with transport the beauty of the weather and the freshness of the air; and, satisfied with having worked with diligence, she thought with pleasure of the duties of the succeeding day. To see and hear her, one would have imagined that she was the happiest creature in the world; and in truth she was happy, for she did nothing wrong, she had no fancies that tormented her, she was never wearied, and always spent her time in useful occupations.

Madame de Livonne was so economical, and proportioned so well her expenses to her means, that since they had been compelled to work for their living, they had never been embarrassed. But she was taken ill, even dangerously so. However, Euphemia's joy, when she beheld her convalescent, was so great, that she could scarcely think of the situation in which they were soon to be placed. Almost all their money had been spent during the time that Madame de Livonne had been unable to work, and when Euphemia, occupied in nursing her, her heart always heavy, and her eyes full of tears, was scarcely able to work either. It was not what the poor child had eaten during this time that cost much, but medicines and nourishing food had been required for her mother. Several persons of the town who esteemed Madame de Livonne, on account of her fortitude and her virtues, had, indeed, sent her various things, of which she stood in need, but this assistance ceased as soon as she was better, and she herself even, in order not to encroach upon their kindness, had assured them that such things were no longer necessary for her. They therefore found themselves in such a state of destitution, that as soon as Madame de Livonne had, in some degree, regained her strength, she determined to go to a town, about two leagues distant from where they lived, in order to collect some money for work sent home before her illness.

They set out very early one morning, and when just on the point of starting, the daughter of Mathurine called upon them. It was in this town that she was in service, and her mother lived in the one to which they were going. She was acquainted with them, as they worked for her mistress, and being aware of their intended journey, she begged them to carry to her mother the louis d'or that Victorine had given her. They willingly took charge of it, and set off full of spirits. Euphemia was so delighted to breathe the morning air, that, although repeatedly reminded by her mother that they had four leagues to walk during the day, she could not refrain from jumping about, and running on before, and into the fields, on each side of the road; so that when the heat increased, she became very thirsty, and the more so as she had eaten, while skipping about, a large piece of bread. Her mother exhorted her to bear the inconvenience with patience, as there was no means of procuring anything to drink. Euphemia said no more about it, as she did not wish to grieve her mother needlessly; but presently she uttered a cry of joy.

"Oh, mamma, there is a man selling gooseberries; we can buy a pound to refresh ourselves."

"My poor child," said her mother, "you know we have no money."

"I thought," replied Euphemia, timidly, "that they would not be very dear."

"But I have no money at all, my dear Euphemia; none whatever."

"I thought, mamma, that this man might change for us old Mathurine's louis d'or, and when we arrived, we could give her her money, together with what we had borrowed from it."

"But we have neither the permission of Mathurine, nor of her daughter, to borrow from this money; it was not given us for that purpose."

"Oh! I am quite sure," continued Euphemia, in a sorrowful tone, "that if they knew how thirsty I am, they would gladly lend us sufficient to buy a pound of gooseberries."

"My poor child," replied her mother, still more sorrowfully, "we can be sure only of our own will, and dispose only of that which belongs to us. As this money does not belong to us, is it not the same as if we had not got it at all?"