Part 22

"Because at that time I was adored, idolized by an extremely rich man, who would certainly have married me, if I had been true to him, or if he had not discovered that I was deceiving him."

"It would seem that you weren't so shrewd in those days as you are now; you wouldn't allow yourself to be caught to-day!"

"Mon Dieu! who can tell what may happen? the most adroit are taken by surprise sometimes. But let us dine at once. I can hardly wait for this evening, to find out if this Chamoureau has told me the truth. Twenty-two thousand five hundred francs a year--that's not bad."

"I should say so! I haven't even the odd hundreds!"

"With the ten thousand francs I have, it would make a fortune; I could go everywhere, be received everywhere!"

"You would become a very _comme il faut_ person!"

The two friends dined in haste. Thélénie ate little; she was too preoccupied to have any appetite.

But Mademoiselle Héloïse did not lose a mouthful; and while her companion formed projects for the future, she confined herself to signifying her approval by an occasional monosyllable, never a complete sentence; at table she maintained a laconism which she did not lay aside until coffee was served.

Thélénie left the table to attend to her toilet. Although she was certain of pleasing the man whom she expected, she desired to augment the power of her charms; she was familiar with all the expedients of the most consummate coquetry; she selected the colors which blended best with the brilliancy of her eyes and her glossy hair; in a word, she strove to make herself irresistible.

"Do you mean to turn the poor man's head altogether?" cried Mademoiselle Héloïse, as she swallowed her second glass of _crême de vanille_.

"Oh! I know that that is already done; but as this is a matter of great importance, I want to confirm my power; for, as you may imagine, I shall impose conditions."

"Trust you for that!"

At eight o'clock the bell rang, and the maid announced that Monsieur Chamoureau desired to know if he might see madame.

Thélénie at once dismissed her friend, saying:

"Come to-morrow morning, and you shall know the result of the interview."

Mademoiselle Héloïse would have preferred to step into an adjoining room, in order to listen at the door; but as she was accustomed to obey without comment, she took her leave.

A moment later the former business agent was ushered into the presence of Madame Sainte-Suzanne, who awaited him, half reclining on a couch, in a pose calculated to deprive her adorer of what reason he still possessed.

Chamoureau had put on the clothes he had recovered from Freluchon, but he had paid less attention to his dress than usual. The moment a man feels conscious of being rich, he gives little heed to a multitude of trivial details which he formerly magnified into matters of moment. The fact is that wealth instantly imparts a self-possession, an assurance, which sometimes reaches the point of fatuity; and a man is no longer afraid of being unfashionable, when he can say to himself:

"Everyone knows that I have the means to do just as I please."

Chamoureau, then, appeared before Madame Sainte-Suzanne with less than his usual timidity; but when he saw how lovely, how fascinating she was, he became so perturbed that he instantly forgot the sentence he had prepared, and could only stammer:

"Madame--it is I who--I had the honor to write you--still more in love--more enamored--and--how are you?"

"Very well, monsieur, thank you. Won't you sit here beside me?"

Chamoureau made one leap to the couch, and dropped upon it with so much _abandon_ that he broke one of the springs. But he reflected that he was rich and could venture to break many springs, even those of the steel skirts which ladies wear nowadays.

"Madame," he said, turning amorously toward Thélénie, "I believe that I must begin by apologizing for my share in that adventure--in the coupé on the Champs-Elysées. I assure you that I was far from suspecting--Freluchon and Edmond Didier had assured me----"

"Enough, Monsieur Chamoureau; I beg you not to refer to that affair again. I am convinced that you were not to blame, but those two gentlemen whom you have just named, they acted like vile blackguards, like true bar-room loafers; it doesn't surprise me on their part, and in a moment I will tell you my intentions with regard to them. Let us come now to your own affairs. Is it true that you have inherited money, monsieur?"

"Perfectly true, madame; twenty thousand francs a year."

"Why, that is a very pretty little fortune! Do you know, monsieur, that this is like a dream, like a tale from the _Thousand and One Nights_, or the conclusion of a comedy! A legacy which you did not expect, which fell upon you suddenly, from the clouds!"

"Good fortune almost always comes like that; when you are looking for it, it keeps you waiting!"

"True; indeed, there are some people who wait for it all their lives."

"Here is the wallet which contains my fortune; be good enough to examine it, madame, to make sure that I have not deceived you."

"Oh! I believe you, monsieur."

Nevertheless, although she said: "I believe you," the fair Thélénie closely scrutinized the wallet, which Chamoureau had placed in her lap. She examined the notes of the Treasury and of the Caisse d'Escompte, the drafts and the bank-notes; then she returned the wallet to Chamoureau, saying:

"Yes, you are rich; there are more than four hundred thousand francs there. What do you propose to do with this fortune?"

"Did I not write you that I offered it to you, with my hand?"

"Yes, you did write me that; so the offer is serious, is it?"

"Is it serious! as serious as is my love for you, which has become a passion that I cannot control."

"Do you know that you are a very dangerous man? that it's hard to resist you?"

Chamoureau's face became radiant; his eyes dilated like a cat's; his nostrils swelled; he seized a hand, which was not withdrawn, and kissed it again and again, puffing like a man who has ascended seven flights of stairs without stopping.

When Thélénie considered that her visitor had kissed her hand sufficiently, she withdrew it, saying in her sweetest voice--for she had inflections for all occasions:

"Be good, and let us talk seriously.--I am going to tell you what conditions I should impose if I consented to become your wife."

"Oh! I agree to them all beforehand."

"Let us not go so fast; I wish you to reflect before accepting; marriage is a chain which cannot be broken, in France; so one should not submit to it heedlessly.--Listen: I believe you to be a sensible man, of orderly habits; but as you may become a gambler, a spendthrift, a rake----"

"Oh! madame!"

"A man who is none of those things, may become one or the other! In a word, I wish to have the sole right to keep the key to the cash-box, to handle our fortune. You know that I myself have ten thousand francs a year."

"Yes, charming creature; but if you had nothing----"

"Let me speak. I desire that, when you marry me, you will certify that I have brought you property to the amount of four hundred thousand francs----"

"Certainly; twice that, if you choose."

"You will leave to me the management of our fortune. It will not diminish, never fear."

"I trust implicitly in you."

"I will give you two hundred francs a month for your clothes and your private expenses; I should say that that was enough, eh?"

"It is more than I need! I shan't spend it."

"You will not have to worry about the housekeeping; that will be my business and mine alone."

"That will be all the better."

"Do you agree to all these conditions?"

"With the greatest pleasure."

"It is well. But there is something else: I do not propose that the man whose wife I am, whose name I bear, shall continue to entertain the slightest relations with those persons who have insulted me, and whom I justly regard as my enemies. You must understand me? you must break off all relations with Messieurs Edmond Didier and Freluchon."

"That is understood. Indeed, I shall regret them very little; I will break with them forever!"

"Unless, however, as the result of events which cannot be foreseen, I myself authorize you to see them again."

"Of course, if you authorize me, I must obey you."

"Nor do I want you to speak to a certain Monsieur Beauregard, whom you have met here, I believe?"

"Ah, yes! a gentleman with a bilious complexion!"

"He is a detestable fellow; he paid court to me long ago, and as I refused to listen to him, he spreads all sorts of slanders and falsehoods about me!"

"I guessed as much, _belle dame_; I said to myself: 'This man abuses Madame de Sainte-Suzanne too much not to have been rigorously treated by her.'--I won't talk with him any more, and if he should try to talk to me, I'll turn my back on him at once."

"Very good; you are submissive. Look you, I believe you will be an excellent husband."

"With you, who would not be? no man could fail to be!"

"By the way, there is one thing more; it is a weakness, a puerile fancy, but I am set upon it nevertheless."

"Speak; I am here to obey."

"I don't like your name--Chamoureau; no, I don't like it at all!"

"The devil! that's rather embarrassing; I can't unbaptize myself."

"No, but listen: you were born somewhere."

"There's not the slightest doubt of that."

"Where were you born?"

"At Belleville."

"Belleville--very well; from this moment you are Chamoureau de Belleville, and you will not sign your name in any other way. Furthermore, you will be careful to use only the last name with any new acquaintances you may make; in that way, before long your name of Chamoureau will be entirely forgotten and you will be Monsieur de Belleville!"

"Pardieu! that's very nice! you have a mind as big as yourself! Monsieur de Belleville--that's an altogether coquettish name, and it pleases me beyond words.--Then you consent to become Madame de Belleville?"

"I must, since you promise to agree to everything I have stipulated."

"And to everything you may order in future; I swear it at your feet!"

And Chamoureau, rising from the couch, threw himself at Thélénie's feet, took her hand and kissed it with rapture, and even tried to take her knees; but his haughty conquest checked him, saying, with an air which had a faint suggestion of dignity:

"Monsieur! remember that I am to be your wife! and respect me until I no longer have the right to deny you anything."

"That is true!" cried Chamoureau, rising from the floor; "I am a villain! a blackguard! you did well to call me to order! I will lose no time about taking all the necessary steps, in order to enter into possession at the earliest possible moment of the charms which overthrow my reason."

"Do so; I approve your purpose and you have my consent; I will not conceal from you now that I desire the marriage to take place at once."

"Ah! dear love! you overwhelm me! I'm beside myself! You share my impatience! Oh! permit me to----"

"Well, monsieur?"

"Fichtre! I was going to put my foot in it again! Your hair is so lovely--you are so alluring!--Upon my word, I believe that I shall do well to go, for I can't answer for myself."

"Go; to-morrow I will look about for an apartment suited to our future position; you will trust me, I suppose?"

"In everything, and blindly. Whatever you do will be approved."

"Au revoir then, my dear De Belleville."

"De Belleville! really I am mad over that name. Au revoir, my goddess!"

Chamoureau kissed once more the hand that was offered him; then took his leave, as light as a feather, saying to himself:

"She loves me, she adores me, for she wants to be married at once! Oh! I'll not let the grass grow under my feet.--The devil! is it only three months since Eléonore died? I certainly am an idiot! it's an endless time since I became a widower!"

While her newly-rich adorer went away in raptures, Thélénie, alone once more, said to herself:

"A new name--an apartment in a distant quarter--a new position in society! Madame Sainte-Suzanne will be lost to sight, and she will hear no more of the Croques and the Beauregards. But she will be careful not to lose sight of those upon whom she is determined to be revenged!"

XXIV

VISITORS

Honorine and Agathe were installed in the little house at Chelles, and Poucette was with her new mistresses. The first days were devoted to arranging the furniture, deciding where to put the various things, making the necessary changes, and attending to the innumerable petty details which follow every change of abode, and which are of much more importance when one takes possession of a house one has purchased. During those early days the two friends hardly had time to walk in their garden or to glance at the landscape.

While they were occupied thus, assisted by Poucette, who did her best to give satisfaction and had already won the regard of her mistresses; while they arranged, placed and displaced furniture, and set the music and the books in order, the spring progressed. It was the middle of May, the time when the country is so lovely, when it is embellished every day by some new flower or leaf; and when at last Honorine and Agathe were able to sit at their windows and to go down to inspect their garden and stroll along the paths, they exclaimed with surprise and delight at the change which a few weeks had wrought in the face of nature.

Agathe would pause in admiration before a linden or an ash tree, crying:

"Ah! my dear! how lovely the trees are! I never saw this one before!"

"You did see it," Honorine would reply with a smile, "but you didn't notice it because it had no leaves."

"Do you think so? it may be true; and the garden too seems to me a hundred times lovelier than when we first came to see the house."

"For the very same reason."

"It certainly does make a great difference! What a pity it is, when you live in the country, that it isn't summer all the time!"

"If it were, we shouldn't have the pleasure of seeing the leaves grow, of seeing all nature come to life anew. Believe me, my dear girl, God has done well everything that He has done, and we are ungrateful when we murmur against the order He has established."

Père Ledrux came twice a week to look after the garden; that was quite as often as was necessary to keep the paths clean and to care for a small kitchen garden; as for the flowers, Agathe had taken it upon herself to tend them, and she did it very well, although the gardener declared that she knew nothing about it.

In short, the two women were enchanted with their new life; ennui had not once made its way into their abode, for they always found something to do which occupied their time; as a general rule, ennui visits only the slothful.

One morning, when Père Ledrux came to work at Madame Dalmont's, the peasant, after watching the hens for a long time, as usual, to see if they did not fight--their failure to do so always seemed to surprise him--went into the house, bowed to Honorine, who was breakfasting with Agathe, and said to her:

"I say, pardon, excuse me if I tell you this; but it's only so that you may know it, and then you can do as you choose; it's none of my business; I just came to tell you because sometimes folks are glad to know what other folks say about 'em."

"What's that, Père Ledrux? do you mean that people are talking about us?" said Honorine, who, no less than her friend, had felt strongly inclined to laugh at the gardener's long preamble.

"Bless me! that they are! You can see for yourself, it's no more'n natural; in a little place like this the folks as is rich don't have anything else to do but ask what the other folks do. So then, you and your friend, when you came here to Chelles to live, you bought Monsieur Courtivaux's house, and you paid cash for it. Now, you understand, new people--fine ladies from Paris coming here to live--why that's a big event in the neighborhood."

"Very good, Père Ledrux; we are an event, I understand that. What next?"

"Why, they says like this at Madame Droguet's: 'Let's see if they come to call on us, these newcomers.'--Excuse me, but as you ain't been here long, they call you the newcomers."

"That doesn't offend us at all. Go on."

"Monsieur Droguet says: 'They're young women, they must dance; we must invite 'em to come here.'--But it seems that Madame Droguet answered: 'We'll invite 'em, if they come to call first; because the latest arrivals ought to make the first call on the people who live in a town, and it ain't for us to begin by going to see them.'"

"That is true; Madame Droguet is quite right."

"Then there's Monsieur le Docteur Antoine Beaubichon, who says: 'I have the pleasure of knowing these ladies already, and they're very agreeable. As a bachelor and as a medical man I mean to go to call on 'em very soon. I'll let them get settled; we mustn't be in too much of a hurry.'--And after that Monsieur Luminot, he says: 'I'm a widower, and I'm going to call on these ladies; they say they're pretty, and I like pretty women.'--Then there's the Jarnouillards, and they says: 'But we must find out first if they're rich, and what their money's in.'--I tell you all this just as they said it, you understand."

"Yes, Père Ledrux, and there's no harm in it. Is that all?"

"No; for, you see, as you've been in Chelles more'n two weeks, and you haven't called on anyone yet, and nobody ever meets you anywhere, because you don't go to walk--why, folks are beginning to say:

"'Those ladies must be female bears; they don't go to see anybody! they don't go out! They're good mates for the owner of the Tower; all they need is a dog!'--That's what folks say, and I only repeat it so that you may know it; because it's none of my business, after all."

"Thanks, Père Ledrux; I am not sorry to know what people say about us. It is at Madame Droguet's, I presume, that public opinion is formed?"

"It must be there! That's where all the bigwigs meet."

"I admit that the conjectures of the 'bigwigs' will have very little influence on our mode of life. We care little for society, but we are not desirous either to be looked upon as bears; and Agathe is old enough not to avoid society. When the opportunity presents itself to make Madame Droguet's acquaintance, we shall not let it pass; but there is no hurry, is there, Agathe?"

"Oh, no! my dear; and so far as I am concerned, when we have time to walk, it will be much more agreeable to go in the direction of the Tower, than to that lady's house who hides in the bushes to spy upon people. The acquaintance of that beautiful dog, who manifested such a liking for me, is the acquaintance I am most anxious to cultivate."

During the day which followed this conversation, Poucette came to Honorine to say that Monsieur Luminot desired to pay his respects, as one of her neighbors.

"Show Monsieur Luminot in," said Honorine.

"Neighborliness is about to commence," murmured Agathe; "I have an idea that this man is a bore!"

"My dear girl, we are not in the world solely to enjoy ourselves; we need no other proof than all the trials that are imposed on us."

Monsieur Luminot, former wine merchant, was a tall, stout man, with a red face; an excellent type of those rustic buffoons, who deem themselves very clever because they make a great deal of noise wherever they are, and are always the first to laugh at what they themselves say; a device which very rarely fails to arouse the laughter of those who listen, especially as those who listen to such fellows are generally entitled to be numbered among Panurge's sheep.

Monsieur Luminot had arrayed himself in a white cravat, and a dress coat in which he was almost as constrained as Chamoureau in his new trousers; in the country a dress coat is but rarely donned; it is kept in reserve for grand and ceremonious assemblages, so that it serves for a long while. Monsieur Luminot had possessed his for four years, and it was still quite presentable. During that time, however, its owner had considerably increased his bulk, so that the coat, which had originally fitted him very well, had become much too small; nevertheless, he persisted in wearing it.

"I must wear it out," he would say; "it's very good still. I can't have another coat made while this looks like a new one."

"Good-morning, mesdames, how do you do? Allow me to congratulate myself on the pleasure of making your acquaintance."

"Pray be seated, monsieur," said Honorine, offering a chair to her visitor, who entered the room with a radiant expression and approached her as if he proposed to begin by embracing her.

"With pleasure, _belle dame_; I don't like to remain standing, one has enough of that in the street. Ha! ha! ha! that is a _mot_! you will excuse me, I know; I make many _mots_! I am an inveterate joker. Ha! ha! ha! As the ballad says: 'We must laugh, we must drink to hospitality.'--I believe it's in _Le Déserteur_, but I am not quite sure."

"Does monsieur live in the neighborhood?"

"Yes, _belle dame_, within two steps--two and a bit.--Luminot, proprietor of vineyards. Always in the vines. Ha! ha! ha! Pray don't think that I am always tipsy though; it's another _mot_! In Paris I sold wines at wholesale--excuse this _detail_.[J] Ha! ha! Well, how do you like our countryside, _belle dame_? I say _belle dame_, because I presume that this is your daughter--_demoiselle_."

"Ah! it would be funny if I were her daughter!" exclaimed Agathe; "in that case I should have a mother only ten years older than I!"

"Oh! a thousand pardons! I am a reckless fellow," rejoined the former wine merchant; "I made a mistake; I had not looked carefully at mademoiselle; I see now that you are her aunt."

"You are not a sorcerer to-day, monsieur, you do not guess right. Agathe is simply my friend; but I love her like a daughter and a sister at once."

"Very good, I understand; she's your cousin _à la mode de Bretagne_.--We are both happy and proud to have in our village two roses from the Capital--I might say a rose and a bud. Ha! ha! you catch my thought? Still another _mot_! What the devil can you expect; when one has sold spirits, one must retain a little; I didn't sell everything, and it was not in vain that I was in wines.[K] Ha! ha! ha! I beg your pardon; I can't help it.--Oh! oh! oh!"

The portly buffoon, amazed that the ladies did not laugh also, grew calmer, and tried to be more sedate.

"You ladies have not told me whether you are pleased with this region."

"We were waiting until you had ceased laughing, monsieur.--Yes, this region pleases us exceedingly, and the surrounding country seemed lovely to us."

"Have you seen our promenade, the Poncelet?"

"No, monsieur; is it in the village?"

"It's on the square; a charming, delightful promenade; you would think that you were on the Champs-Elysées in Paris, barring the size."

"We haven't seen it yet."

"I venture to think that the society here will please you also. We have a little nucleus[L] of agreeable and clever people--not large, but large enough; you shall be one of us, you shall be our almond--Ha! ha!--but not bitter.--Ha! ha! ha!--joker that I am; I am the life of the whole neighborhood.--We generally meet at Madame Droguet's--a good house, well kept up; they live very well indeed; we play cards, and sometimes dance; Droguet is mad over dancing. I myself used to be rather a fine dancer once. I could do my little _entrechat_--in the good old way, I assure you! But I've put on a good deal of flesh, so that I am not so light of foot as I was. However, I can still hold my own in a quadrille! You ladies should be fond of dancing?"

"Not I, monsieur; but Agathe is very fond of it."

"In that case, madame, you will play cards with Madame Droguet. Do you know bézique?"

"No, monsieur."

"Why, you surprise me! that refined, intellectual game, which has caused a revolution in Paris!"

"I do not care for cards, monsieur."