Part 24

"My dear girl, at the point we have reached I cannot be content with hints; I want something positive; in short, I want to know what sort of a person I have to do with."

"But you are allowed to talk freely enough, I should think."

"Ha! ha! that is delicious! but I tell you again, it isn't enough for me."

"In the evening, you always sit beside her; you can whisper to her and squeeze her hand."

"My poor Amélie, you make me laugh with your provincial privileges; a man has much greater ones in Paris with young women he isn't proposing to marry."

"So much the worse for the girls in Paris, brother."

"Or so much the better, for, after all, severity overdone is often harmful; when the principles of virtue are once engraved on a girl's mind, I don't see why she should not be allowed a reasonable degree of liberty; those who would make missteps would surely have done it later; but those who would always behave themselves, and would not abuse the privilege of listening to foolish talk, they, my dear Amélie, would bring with them, when they marry, a guarantee of their virtue; for you will agree that there is no great merit in being innocent when it is impossible to be anything else."

"Oh! what ideas you have about women, brother! It is easy to see that you have been spoiled in Paris."

"I have much less narrow ideas than yours as to the training of girls, sister; for example, I strongly approve the English method, by which they are allowed to do whatever they choose before marriage. In London, an unmarried girl goes out alone to call on her friends and acquaintances. She may go to a concert or theatre with a young man, without arousing the suspicion that he is her lover. She goes to balls without a mentor; and in society she may laugh and talk and lead the conversation, without being called to order by her parents. But when she is once married, there's a great difference; she must lead an orderly, quiet life, devoted entirely to the care of her household and her children; she goes out only with her husband, receives no men except in his presence, and at parties and receptions consorts with persons of her own sex, who, like herself, refrain from joining the men, whom they generally leave at table after dinner to drink and tell stories. Well! do you think that such a very bad system? For my part, I am convinced that there are fewer deceived husbands in England than in France."

"Bah! they are deceived there before marriage, that's all the difference."

"And here, after marriage."

"Brother!"

"Oh! don't be angry; I didn't mean that for you."

"Well! what is the point of your remarks?"

"I want you to procure me a tête-à-tête with Pélagie."

"A tête-à-tête! do you mean it?"

"With my future bride, it will be perfectly proper!"

"But propriety--good morals!"

"Propriety and good morals cannot be offended."

"But the custom!"

"Your customs are beginning to be very irksome to me; and if you don't obtain me the interview I desire, I am quite capable of decamping some fine morning and leaving you with my intended and her aunt and all the gossip of the town on your hands!"

"Oh! mon Dieu! the reckless fellow! he makes me shudder!--Well, I'll try to arrange it. After all, you're to be married in a week, and--and--in fact---- But I have an idea: I will go to Madame de Pontchartrain and ask her permission to take her niece with me to make some purchases that are necessary for her wedding; she can't refuse me; then I'll bring Pélagie here, and you can talk to her at your leisure."

"That's a happy idea!"

"But I trust, my dear, that you will behave yourself, and----"

"Don't be alarmed! Really, you have a very low opinion of me."

"The fact that I am going to fetch your intended proves the contrary."

My sister did, in fact, go to Madame de Pontchartrain's. My threat of leaving Melun had made poor Amélie tremble; she had not even been willing to let me go to Paris to purchase the indispensable gifts; Déneterre had undertaken to do all that. I did not insist, for I might have fallen in with somebody in Paris who would have made me forget my marriage.

Amélie succeeded in her mission; she soon returned with Pélagie, who, on seeing me, blushed and courtesied as if I were a stranger.

"Here is my brother, who will be delighted to talk with you," said Amélie, as she led Pélagie into the house. "I have a thousand things to do, and I am compelled to leave you for a few minutes; but you will be united in a week, so I can see no great harm in leaving you together."

Amélie left us, and I was alone with my future wife at last. Pélagie seated herself at a considerable distance from me, so I began by placing my chair close to hers and taking possession of both her hands. I was glad to see that she made no effort to withdraw them. I gazed at her for several minutes; she kept her eyes fixed on the floor and said not a word. I concluded that if I did not begin the conversation we should sit in silence and without moving all day long; indeed, it was my place to begin.

"You know, mademoiselle, that we are to be married?"

"Yes, monsieur."

"In a week, I shall be your husband."

"Yes, monsieur."

"Does the prospect please you?"

"Yes, monsieur."

"Then you love me a little?"

"Yes, monsieur."

That was not bad for a beginning. Still, I was anxious to obtain something besides that everlasting _yes, monsieur_.--I tried to go about it so as to make her reply less briefly.

"When you first saw me, did you pick me out from the rest, prefer me to other young men?"

Doubtless that question seemed embarrassing to her; it was some time before she answered, but at last I heard a _yes, monsieur_.

"Had your heart never spoken before you saw me?"

"I don't know, monsieur."

"What! do you mean that you have been in love before?"

"Oh! no, monsieur; I don't know anything about love."

"Why, you do now, don't you?"

"No, monsieur."

"Then you don't love me?"

"Yes, monsieur."

"Would you prefer another to me?"

"I don't know, monsieur."

"Suppose you should be married to someone else, would you be sorry?"

"I don't know, monsieur."

"Then, why do you marry me?"

"I don't know, monsieur."

I nearly lost my patience; the woman would surely drive me mad with her gentleness. I began to be afraid that I had mistaken stupidity for innocence and awkwardness for timidity! But her hand trembled; probably she was afraid that she had angered me. I felt that I must control myself and not frighten her; that was not the way to attract her and win her confidence.

"Pélagie."

"Monsieur."

"My dear girl, when you are going to marry a man, you mustn't call him _monsieur_."

"What shall I say, then?"

"Call me your _dear_; I hope always to be that."

"Yes, my dear."

"Has your aunt brought you up very strictly?"

"Yes, my dear."

"Don't you ever receive any young men at your house?"

"No, my dear."

"Do you like society?"

"Yes, my dear."

"When we are married, what would you like to do?"

"Whatever you like, my dear."

"Shall we remain here, or go to Paris to live?"

"Oh! I don't care. But----"

"Well! go on, don't be afraid to speak."

"I think I should like Paris better."

"In that case, I am delighted to agree with you."

And I kissed her hand, to manifest a little affection. She hastily withdrew it.

"Pélagie, a promised husband may kiss his betrothed's hand as much as he pleases."

"Really?"

"I give you my word."

Instantly she offered me both hands. Her docility was charming; it was something, at all events.

"Pélagie, what has your aunt ever said to you about me?"

"She told me I might listen to you."

"And then?"

"That you had asked for my hand, and she had given it to you."

"So she didn't consult you beforehand?"

"No, my dear. What for?"

"Why, to know if you liked me."

"Oh! it wasn't worth while."

"But it seems to me that if----"

"I am too well bred not to obey my aunt."

"But if I had been old, ugly, and gouty?"

"That wouldn't have made any difference."

"You would have married me just the same?"

"Of course, if my aunt had said so."

"Why, then you have no inclination for me?"

"What is an inclination?"

"What! has your aunt never told you that you must love your husband?"

"Oh, yes!"

"And be faithful to him?"

"Oh, yes!"

"Do whatever he wishes?"

"Oh, yes!"

"And never listen to other men?"

"Oh, yes!"

I could stand it no longer; I leaped from my chair. Pélagie, terribly frightened, rose also and looked at me. I paced the floor with long strides. But she came toward me.

"Have you hurt yourself?" she asked, opening her eyes to their fullest extent. I could not help smiling at her question. I put my arms around her and embraced her with considerable warmth; I was determined to try to animate her at any cost. At first she tried to release herself; but I told her that a future husband had the right to hold his intended in his arms.

"Oh! that makes a difference," she said; and she ceased to resist.

"He may kiss you, too," I said; and I proceeded to kiss her repeatedly, on her cheeks and her lips. She made no objection.--See how dangerous ignorance often is! there was an innocent with whom a man might do whatever he chose by means of false arguments.

But as I heard my sister I released Pélagie, who allowed herself to be kissed with charming docility. Indeed, I fancied that she was beginning to show some animation.

"Come," said my sister, as she entered the room, "it's time to go back to your aunt, my dear Pélagie; she might not like it if you should stay away any longer. You have had plenty of time to talk, and you will have still more when you're married. Take your shawl and let us go."

Pélagie took her shawl without a word, and prepared to go with my sister. I bade her adieu, whereupon she gave me a decidedly tender glance. I believed that my kisses had produced some effect on her heart, and that belief made me a little more hopeful of the future.

I realized now that my bride had no intelligence; perhaps I might have gone further; but I must needs make the best of it. I did not think that, in order to be happy, one must have a genius for a wife; bright women are generally very tiresome in their homes, and she who devotes her time to displaying the gifts she has received from nature very rarely thinks of taking care of her children and gratifying her husband. As soon as a woman believes herself to be more intelligent than her husband, she refuses to be governed by him. Moreover, I had had many liaisons with clever women, and the result had not been flattering to me. Agathe, Caroline, and Madame de Marsan were all bright. And Nicette? she was, too; and yet---- Well, it was very fortunate that my betrothed was not. I was well aware that there was a great distance between a genius and a blockhead, and that if pretentiousness is irksome, stupidity is even more so. But I hoped that marriage, which works so many metamorphoses, would succeed in forming Pélagie's judgment. I had already fancied that I could see that my caresses had stirred her pulses. There is a time when nature seems benumbed; at such a time a crisis is necessary. Perhaps Pélagie's heart and mind only needed that crisis to develop rapidly.

XXXI

I MARRY

The great day arrived when I was to utter that solemn _yes_ which would bind me forever. Forever is a very long time--it is very short when one is happy!

At times melancholy thoughts oppressed me. I was not in love with the woman I was about to marry, and I felt that it was the absence of love that made us walk so carelessly toward the altar. Love, who charms the present and embellishes the future, is a god whose presence is most essential on the wedding day; he ought always to preside on such occasions. However, I proposed to do without him; indeed, I must, for whom could I love now? I should have ceased to think of _her_, but I still thought of her. She did not love me; and if she had loved me, could I have married her? It would have been madness; but is the madness which makes one happy so very blameworthy?

I felt tears in my eyes. Was that the proper way to begin that day? It was my last thought of her. Henceforth I would never think of the past. I must try to be light-hearted, to be amiable with Pélagie. Amiable! she would not notice it! But, no matter; I must forget myself.

My sister was the first who entered my room. I fancy that she noticed my depression; she kissed me and embraced me, and assured me that I should be very happy.

"God grant it!" I thought. "Thus far I have not been happy in love; perhaps I shall be in marriage."

I overcame my weakness and was myself once more. Poor Amélie! she was so pleased when she saw me smile!

By the way, where were my wife and I to live? I had not given that matter a thought; but I was not at all disturbed, for my sister had undertaken to look out for everything, and she was not the woman to forget anything so important. However, I felt that I should be very glad to know where I was to take my better half that night.

"You haven't told me yet, sister, where I am to live."

"That goes without saying, my dear."

"Nevertheless, you will have to tell me, for I can't guess."

"Has not Madame de Pontchartrain a magnificent house, of which she occupies only one-half? You are to live there with your wife."

"At her aunt's? I don't like that very much."

"Don't be disturbed; your suite is by itself, and a long way from hers; you need have nothing to say to each other, except when you please. I knew, of course, that you would like to be by yourself, and I have had everything arranged with that end in view."

"All right.--By the way, has Pélagie received all the usual gifts?"

"Yes, my dear; have you forgotten that I showed them to you yesterday and told you Déneterre had spent three thousand francs out of the money you gave him?"

"True; it had gone out of my head."

"Pélagie will be enchanted, I assure you. There's a beautiful set of jewelry--and shawls--and dress materials."

"Very good; so, then, there's nothing for me to do to-day but to get married?"

"Mon Dieu! that's all, my dear."

"So much the better. What time is it to be?"

"At eleven o'clock you are to call for your wife and take her to the mayor's office. We shall have two carriages; I have ordered them."

"Two carriages! it seems to me that's very few."

"There are no more to be had in town."

"That makes a difference."

"But this evening we shall have several sedan chairs and Bath chairs."

"Aha! so they have those things here?"

"To be sure; they are very convenient and much less dangerous than your horse vehicles, which always frighten me."

"It is true that in a Bath chair the steed doesn't take the bit in his teeth. And from the mayor's office we go to the church?"

"Yes; at one o'clock."

"And then?"

"Then we come back here, and chat until three."

"Where is the wedding feast to be?"

"Here, my dear. At first Madame de Pontchartrain insisted on having it at her house, but I finally carried the day. We shall be much more free here, you know. We can laugh and sing and frolic."

"I confess that I shall be delighted to be allowed to frolic. And the ball is to be here also, I suppose?"

"Oh! no, my dear; the ball is to be at Madame de Pontchartrain's; she has a superb salon, where three sets can dance a quadrille at once. Besides, it's more proper at night to be where the bride can conveniently be put to bed!"

"What's that? put the bride to bed? I fancy that that's my business."

"No, my dear; don't you know that it's the custom for the bride's near relations to take her to the nuptial chamber and undress her and put her to bed?"

"You will do me the kindness to abridge all that ceremonial, which I consider utterly ridiculous, as much as you possibly can. It seems to me to be the bridegroom's place to undress his wife and put her to bed--or to postpone putting her to bed if he and she please. They are entirely at liberty to suit themselves."

"Oh! brother, think of what decency demands!"

"My dear girl, some people are so decent that they end by being indecent; just as some people are so bright that they end by making fools of themselves. Extremes meet; too great strictness breeds debauchery, just as extreme rigidity of morals often ends in their entire subversion. _Summum jus, summa injuria._ The savages who live in countries where they are not ruled by civilized man should have pure morals, since they follow the inspiration of nature; and yet that extreme purity which leads them to go naked and to conceal nothing from one another resembles a refinement of libertinage among us. Diogenes, who wanted to be a wise man, was nothing better than a fool; and Crates, who considered himself a philosopher, was simply disgusting; and how many writers there are who, by dint of trying to rise to the sublime, fall into bathos! and scholars who, while striving to be profound, are simply ludicrous! and actors who, in their efforts to be natural, appear absurd! and dancers who fall to the ground because they try to jump too high! The moral of all this is that we should seek a happy medium in everything, and that when a husband and wife have complied with the behests of the law and of religion they should be allowed to go to bed without having somebody else place them solemnly between two sheets; which, in my opinion, is better adapted to offend decency than to gratify it."

"I am very sorry, my dear, but the custom----"

"I tell you, if I were in love with my wife, I would make short work of this custom! but let us say no more about it; I will submit to whatever you say."

"Very well; dress yourself and come to breakfast."

I felt that I must dress myself with care; the least one can do is to try to make himself presentable on his wedding day. Although Pélagie had said that she would have married me just the same if I had been old and ugly, I liked to think that she would notice the difference. I was soon ready; unless he is a conceited fop, a man cannot spend much time over his toilet, and I did not, like Raymond, reflect for a quarter of an hour where I should place a pin or how I should arrange the ends of my cravat. Speaking of my neighbor, I regretted that he was not at Melun; he would have assumed the duties of best man, and would certainly have invented something new; but it would probably have resulted to my disadvantage, so perhaps it was as well that he was not there.

My nephews came jumping and prancing into my room, to tell me that breakfast was waiting; they were already in their gala costumes, and were so wild with delight that we could not hear ourselves talk. Happy age, when the least novelty, the slightest change in the daily habits, the idea of a party, a wedding, a grand dinner--of anything, in fact, that suggests confusion and disorder--causes intoxicating delight! We ought to retain longer the characteristics of childhood.

I found Déneterre in full dress. He came to me, embraced me, pressed my hand with a satisfied air, and said to me in a half solemn, half comical tone:

"Well! you're one of us now!"

I looked at him with a smile, and stifled a sigh which would have been a rude answer to his congratulations.

"Come, let's eat, and eat heartily!" said my brother-in-law, taking his seat at the table. "You need to lay in some strength to-day, my dear boy."

So the chapter of jests had begun; but it was likely to be brief in a small place, where remarks with a double meaning were frowned upon. At all events, they might say what they pleased; I was determined to accept everything with a good grace. But I thought it well to follow Déneterre's advice and eat heartily; that was the best thing for me to do until night.

"Let us hurry," said Amélie; "it's almost eleven; we mustn't keep your wife waiting, dear Eugène."

"Of course not; that would not be polite; I am ready to start."

"Come, Déneterre, have you finished?"

"For heaven's sake, give me time to swallow!"

"Oh! how long it takes you to do anything! Do put on the children's hats!"

"What! are you going to take them to the mayor's office?"

"Certainly."

"That's all folly; it won't amuse them, and they'll crowd the carriage; it's much better not to take them till we go to the church."

"But I insist on their going now! Do you suppose that I dressed them up just to leave them at home?"

"But I tell you we can come back and get them in a little while."

"And I tell you that I propose to take them now."

"There won't be any room for them."

"You can hold them on your knees."

"So that they can kick me and soil the ladies' dresses!"

"They'll keep quiet."

"It would be something new!"

"Oh! how you tire me with your arguments!"

"You are a most obstinate creature!"

The clock struck eleven, and I put an end to the discussion by announcing that I was going; my sister and her husband did the same, and we took the little boys. I was very sure that that would be the result.

The two carriages were in front of the house; the coachmen wore white gloves and had huge bouquets. All the neighbors were at their doors or windows; a wedding in a small town is such a momentous event! it furnishes a subject of conversation for more than a week.

We took five minutes to go about as far as the length of one of the shorter boulevards in Paris; the horses were not used to coaches, and their drivers drove very slowly in order that they might seem to be starting on a journey. We arrived at last and were shown into the large salon, where the intimate friends and the distinguished personages invited to the first ceremony were assembled. I did not see my bride, and started to go in search of her; but I was detained; I could not be allowed to enter her bedroom yet.

"She's coming," said Madame de Pontchartrain; "be patient, my dear Dorsan, you will soon see her."

I had no difficulty in being patient; still, I wished that it was all over. I was beginning to be deathly tired of the compliments everyone paid me, to which I soon ceased to be able to reply, because everyone said the same thing.

At last Pélagie appeared, escorted by her aunt and my sister. Her dress was magnificent, and her face even prettier than usual. The compliments began anew. I listened to them now with more pleasure; the presence of a pretty woman always suggests compliments to me, and I was not displeased by the admiration my bride aroused.

I hastened forward to take her hand; she kept her eyes fixed on the floor and seemed to have resolved not to raise them during the day. I led her toward the door and to the carriage, heedless of the remonstrances of her aunt and my sister, who called after us:

"That isn't right! wait! wait! It isn't your place to take her hand! You're disarranging the programme!"

I cared not a whit for the programme. Madame de Pontchartrain almost lost her temper; my sister calmed her by attributing my heedlessness to my excessive love. We entered the carriages, which process took nearly ten minutes, because, in the first place, no one would get in first, and then no one would take the rear seat. I had to hold myself hard to refrain from pushing them all into the carriages--the ceremonious idiots, who stood an hour on the steps! Poor lovers, who marry in the provinces, how your tempers are tried! At last we were all seated. Déneterre was compelled to walk with the children, who had already torn the trimming of three dresses and stained several white satin shoes with mud. Really, the little rascals were most amusing!

We arrived at the mayor's office. As there is seldom a line of people waiting to be married in provincial towns, we were not obliged to wait an hour for our turn. The ceremony was performed quickly enough, and I was married according to law; there was no drawing back.