"Only last evening."
"It was very nice of you to think of coming here. Father is out, but he will be at home soon."
"Good! for I shall be very glad to talk with him. I trust that he won"t think it improper for me to come here now, as he did before?"
Adolphine could not restrain a nervous gesture as she replied:
"Ah! so you want to come to see us again? Yes--I understand--you are no longer afraid to meet f.a.n.n.y."
"Do you think that I ought to avoid her presence still? tell me, dear Adolphine!"
"I? Oh! I don"t think anything about it. Why should you suppose that I think that? I can"t read your heart, you see, and I have no idea whether it still entertains the same sentiments as before."
"Ah! I can safely tell you, who have always treated me like a brother; indeed, why should I make a mystery of it, anyway? Yes, I love f.a.n.n.y as dearly as ever, her image has not ceased for a single day to be present in my thoughts. My love, although hopeless, has never changed. Judge, then, whether I can cease to love her, now that I am once more at liberty to antic.i.p.ate happiness in the future!"
Adolphine pa.s.sed her hand across her brow and made an effort to retain her self-possession, as she replied:
"Ah! it"s a fine thing to love like that, with a constancy which time and absence have failed to shake! It"s a fine thing; and a woman could not love you too well to recompense a pa.s.sion as true and pure as yours!"
"Now, that we are alone, tell me, dear Adolphine, do you think that f.a.n.n.y will receive me kindly? Do you think that my constancy will touch her? that her heart will be moved by it? Ambition and the wish to cut a figure in the world caused her to prefer Monsieur Monleard to me. I can readily forgive her, young as she was, for listening to vanity rather than love--for I fancy that she never had much love for her husband."
"Oh, no! I don"t think that she had, either."
"In that case, his death cannot have caused her a very deep grief?"
"She regretted his fortune, that"s all."
"What are her means now?"
"Twenty-five hundred francs a year. My father asked her to come to live with us, but she preferred to have a home of her own."
"Twenty-five hundred francs! That"s very little for one who has kept her carriage."
"It"s quite enough for one whose happiness doesn"t depend on money."
"You think so, Adolphine, because you haven"t your sister"s tastes; but all women aren"t like you. f.a.n.n.y loves society; she"s a bit of a coquette, perhaps--that"s a very pardonable fault. Thank heaven! I am so placed now that I can gratify the tastes of the woman whom I marry. I earn ten thousand francs a year; she will not be able to have horses in her stable and carriages in her carriage-house, but she will not be obliged to walk when she doesn"t want to.--You don"t answer me, Adolphine--do you think f.a.n.n.y will consent to be my wife?"
"Oh! now that you earn ten thousand francs a year, she will smile on your suit, no doubt."
Gustave sighed, as he rejoined in a lower tone:
"Then, if I couldn"t offer her that, she would refuse me again? That"s what you mean to imply, isn"t it?"
"No, no! Mon Dieu! Monsieur Gustave, I didn"t mean to hurt you; I did wrong to say that. f.a.n.n.y must love you--why shouldn"t she love you? It would be awfully ungrateful of her not to--when you have given her abundant proof of so much love and constancy--and have forgiven her for the sorrow she caused you. Certainly she loves you; you will be happy with her; but--you see--I can"t bear to talk about it all the time--because it worries me--it makes me uneasy--for you. Mon Dieu! I am all confused."
Gustave scrutinized the girl more closely, then exclaimed:
"Why, I hadn"t noticed before! How you have changed; how thin you are!
Have you been ill, my little sister?"
"Ah! you notice it now, do you? Why, no, I am not ill; nothing"s the matter with me; I don"t know why I should change."
"Are you in pain?"
Adolphine raised her lovely eyes, as if appealing to heaven, as she replied:
"No, I have no pain."
"I can"t have you sick! I insist upon your recovering your fine, healthy color of the old days; and now that I have returned, I will look after your health."
"Thanks! thanks! you will come to see us often, then?"
"I hope to do so; and your sister--does she come here often?"
"Thursdays, because we receive then; occasionally on other days."
Monsieur Gerbault"s arrival put an end to this conversation. He greeted Gustave cordially, and the young man made no secret of the pleasure it would give him to come frequently to the house; he did not mention f.a.n.n.y, preferring not to begin to talk of his renewed hopes at their very first meeting; but he adroitly found a way to make known his financial position, which would enable him, if he married, to offer an attractive prospect to the woman who should bear his name.
Now that his oldest daughter was a widow, Monsieur Gerbault saw no impropriety in Gustave"s meeting her; and he was the first to urge the young man to come to his house at his pleasure, as before. Gustave was enchanted; he pressed Monsieur Gerbault"s hand, then Adolphine"s, and took his leave without noticing that the latter"s depression had become more marked than ever.
XLIII
A COMPLETE REFORMATION
The next evening, at six o"clock, Cherami, dressed with an elegance which made of him once more the stylish beau of former days, was walking near the Pa.s.sage de l"Opera. Several of his former boon companions, who had ceased to bow to him since he had worn a threadbare coat, had stopped when they caught sight of him and acted as if they would accost him; but Cherami at once turned on his heel, saying to himself:
"Go your way, canaille! I know what you amount to, my fine fellows! You wouldn"t look at me when I was strapped. You recognize me because I am well dressed. Avaunt! I have had enough of such people!"
Gustave soon appeared; he could not restrain an exclamation of surprise as he gazed at the man who could once more call himself Beau Arthur.
"Sapristi! my dear fellow! Pray excuse these manifestations of surprise," said Gustave; "but, upon my word, at first glance I didn"t recognize you. You are superb--I don"t exaggerate; no one could wear handsome clothes more gracefully."
"That"s a relic of early habit."
"Why have you gotten yourself up so finely?"
"It was the least I could do to show my respect for such a friend as you."
"Let us go and dine, and we will talk."
"I am at your service."
The gentlemen entered the Cafe Anglais, and Gustave said to his companion: