"Do I think her worthy? Yes, indeed, poor girl! The least she"s ent.i.tled to is to find a man who"ll make up for all the injury others have done her. But suppose I should begin by killing this Fouvenard? by smashing this Rambertin?"
"No, no, Ballangier; we must forget those wretches. If an opportunity should offer, I don"t say----"
"Ah! how quickly we"d seize it! how we"d trounce those fellows!"
"Now, all that you have to do is to try to please Mignonne; but even in that you must act with great circ.u.mspection, and, above all, with patience! That young woman, engrossed as she is with thoughts of her daughter, would take fright at a single word of love. You will need time to touch her heart. You must gain her confidence. In short, I cannot undertake to say that you will win her love; that is your affair; for you understand that I cannot intervene. I know enough of Mignonne"s temperament to be sure that that would be no way to succeed with her."
"Oh! never fear, Charles; I am very reserved, very shy. I will wait, I will wait as long as it"s necessary. The hope of winning her some day will give me courage. I am going to read a lot; to try to educate myself, and to be less awkward in my talk; for she talks mighty well, and she has a very distinguished air. You"ll see, Charles, you"ll see!
You will be better satisfied than ever with me!"
Ballangier left me, drunk with joy. I prayed that he might be happy in his love, and determined that I would do all that lay in my power to help him.
I had just left him, and was walking along, musing upon what he had said to me, when someone halted in front of me. It was Dumouton, the debt-ridden man of letters. He had no umbrellas this time, but he carried under his left arm an oval box, of bronzed tin, which seemed to be carefully fastened.
"Bonjour, Monsieur Rochebrune! I recognized you at a distance. You didn"t see me, for you were lost in thought. Are you pretty well?"
"Very well, thanks, Monsieur Dumouton."
"Were you thinking out the plot of a play? You seemed very much preoccupied."
"Oh, no! I don"t write plays, myself."
"You are very wise! It"s a wretched trade since so many people have begun to dabble in it."
I attempted to salute Monsieur Dumouton and leave him; but he detained me, saying with an embarra.s.sed air:
"I beg pardon! I would like to say another word to you, as I have happened to meet you. It"s like this. First of all, you must know that one of my children is sick; he"s been--out of sorts for a week. And then, we were without a certain household utensil--mon Dieu! why not say it at once--a syringe! We needn"t be more prudish than Moliere, need we?"
"Surely not; you are perfectly justified in saying a syringe."
"So I said to my wife: "We must have a syringe!"--"Buy one," said she.
Very good! that"s what I did this morning. I bought a _clyso-pompe_ with a constant flow--a new invention. It"s exceedingly convenient; it comes in a box; this is it that I have under my arm. Who"d ever suspect there was a syringe in it? It might be lace, or prunes."
"Or even a pie."
"You are right; there are pies of this shape. And it"s so easy to use; no one has any idea what it is. Why, you can even use it at the theatre, in a box. I know a lady who made a bet that she"d do it at the opera, during a ballet; she won her bet."
"Did she have witnesses?"
"Probably."
"I must confess that I should have cried off."
"In a word, I bought this delightful _clyso-pompe_. Well! Monsieur Rochebrune, would you believe that our child, whom his grandmother had accustomed to the old method, positively refused to adopt the new?
Impossible to make him try the _clyso-pompe!_ Children are so obstinate!
And as my wife spoils him, she bought him an old-fashioned syringe. The dealer who sold me this box refuses to take it back, and I am trying to dispose of it--at a loss, of course. If you happened to want such a thing----"
"No, Monsieur Dumouton, I am sorry that I cannot oblige you as I did in the matter of the umbrella, but I won"t buy your _clyso-pompe_."
"You are making a mistake. It"s always useful."
"It is of no use for you to insist. But go and see our mutual friend, Monsieur Rouffignard. Who knows? perhaps he will be very glad to relieve you of this instrument."
At the name Rouffignard, Dumouton"s face lengthened, and, without another word, he bowed and disappeared. I was sure that he would not try to sell me anything more.
XLV
SECOND-SIGHT IN WOMEN
It was three days after I had received Ballangier"s confidence, and in the morning when I was still alone, that Pomponne announced Madame Dauberny.
I could not believe my ears; but at the same instant Frederique hurried into the room, with the amiable, fascinating expression, the proud yet sweet glance, that always attracted and vanquished me; and, before I had recovered from my surprise, she ran to me, took my hand, then threw her arms about me and kissed me two or three times.
I began by letting her do as she chose, because I found it very pleasant; but I gazed into her face, my eyes questioned her. She met them fearlessly and said:
"Yes, Charles, I was wrong! Reproach me all you choose, overwhelm me with the harshest words--I deserve it, yes, I deserve it! you could not say too much. But here I am! I have come back to you, to ask your forgiveness, to swear to you that hereafter I will have no more caprices, that I will believe all that you say--all, do you hear? That I will approve of everything you do, that my friendship will no longer be selfish or exacting, and that it will be unchangeable! Indeed, do you suppose that it really ceased even for a moment? Oh! no, you never thought so, did you, Charles? You hadn"t such a bad opinion of me, had you?"
I was bewildered by what I heard. I would have liked to ask her why she had been angry, and why she was so no longer, but she put her hand over my mouth, crying:
"No reproaches, my friend, since I agree that I was wrong and beg your pardon! Are you not willing now to throw a veil over the past?"
"Oh, yes! I am, indeed! Besides, you have come back, and I am so happy to find you once more as you used to be, that I don"t care to seek for the explanation of my good fortune. But we, or rather you, are no longer angry, are you, Frederique?"
"I have sworn it, my friend. Tell me, what are you going to do to-day?
Would you like to pa.s.s the day with me?"
"Would I like it! You antic.i.p.ate my dearest wish."
"The weather is magnificent; what do you say to a ride? We can go and hire some horses at the riding school, where I usually hire; they have some very good ones."
"A ride? delightful!"
"Then get ready quickly, monsieur. I will wait for you in your salon."
She left the room. I hastily finished dressing, and joined her in the salon.
"Your young seamstress doesn"t seem to be here to-day," said Frederique, with a smile.
"No, she came yesterday. She doesn"t come regularly, every day, but just when she pleases."
"My friend, I was most unjust to that young woman. Such things as I said to her! Really, I don"t know what had got into my head that day!"
"As you"re sorry for it, you mustn"t think any more about it."