And he took himself off, finding it absolutely necessary to get into the open air.
Then there was a deep silence, and it seemed as if everything in the room had become more motionless than before. A luminous circle above the lamp whitened the ceiling, while at the corners stretched out bits of shade resembling pieces of black gauze placed on top of one another. The ticking of the clock and the crackling of the fire were the only sounds that disturbed the stillness.
Madame Arnoux had just seated herself in the armchair at the opposite side of the chimney-piece. She bit her lip and shivered. She drew her hands up to her face; a sob broke from her, and she began to weep.
He sat down on the little couch, and in the soothing tone in which one addresses a sick person:
"You don"t suspect me of having anything to do with----?"
She made no reply. But, continuing presently to give utterance to her own thoughts:
"I leave him perfectly free! There was no necessity for lying on his part!"
"That is quite true," said Frederick. "No doubt," he added, "it was the result of Arnoux"s habits; he had acted thoughtlessly, but perhaps in matters of a graver character----"
"What do you see, then, that can be graver?"
"Oh, nothing!"
Frederick bent his head with a smile of acquiescence. Nevertheless, he urged, Arnoux possessed certain good qualities; he was fond of his children.
"Ay, and he does all he can to ruin them!"
Frederick urged that this was due to an excessively easy-going disposition, for indeed he was a good fellow.
She exclaimed:
"But what is the meaning of that--a good fellow?"
And he proceeded to defend Arnoux in the vaguest kind of language he could think of, and, while expressing his sympathy with her, he rejoiced, he was delighted, at the bottom of his heart. Through retaliation or need of affection she would fly to him for refuge. His love was intensified by the hope which had now grown immeasurably stronger in his breast.
Never had she appeared to him so captivating, so perfectly beautiful.
From time to time a deep breath made her bosom swell. Her two eyes, gazing fixedly into s.p.a.ce, seemed dilated by a vision in the depths of her consciousness, and her lips were slightly parted, as if to let her soul escape through them. Sometimes she pressed her handkerchief over them tightly. He would have liked to be this dainty little piece of cambric moistened with her tears. In spite of himself, he cast a look at the bed at the end of the alcove, picturing to himself her head lying on the pillow, and so vividly did this present itself to his imagination that he had to restrain himself to keep from clasping her in his arms.
She closed her eyelids, and now she appeared quiescent and languid. Then he drew closer to her, and, bending over her, he eagerly scanned her face. At that moment, he heard the noise of boots in the lobby outside--it was the other. They heard him shutting the door of his own room. Frederick made a sign to Madame Arnoux to ascertain from her whether he ought to go there.
She replied "Yes," in the same voiceless fashion; and this mute exchange of thoughts between them was, as it were, an a.s.sent--the preliminary step in adultery.
Arnoux was just taking off his coat to go to bed.
"Well, how is she going on?"
"Oh! better," said Frederick; "this will pa.s.s off."
But Arnoux was in an anxious state of mind.
"You don"t know her; she has got hysterical now! Idiot of a clerk! This is what comes of being too good. If I had not given that cursed shawl to Rosanette!"
"Don"t regret having done so a bit. n.o.body could be more grateful to you than she is."
"Do you really think so?"
Frederick had not a doubt of it. The best proof of it was her dismissal of Pere Oudry.
"Ah! poor little thing!"
And in the excess of his emotion, Arnoux wanted to rush off to her forthwith.
""Tisn"t worth while. I am calling to see her. She is unwell."
"All the more reason for my going."
He quickly put on his coat again, and took up his candlestick. Frederick cursed his own stupidity, and pointed out to him that for decency"s sake he ought to remain this night with his wife. He could not leave her; it would be very nasty.
"I tell you candidly you would be doing wrong. There is no hurry over there. You will go to-morrow. Come; do this for my sake."
Arnoux put down his candlestick, and, embracing him, said:
"You are a right good fellow!"
CHAPTER IX.
The Friend of the Family.
Then began for Frederick an existence of misery. He became the parasite of the house.
If anyone were indisposed, he called three times a day to know how the patient was, went to the piano-tuner"s, contrived to do a thousand acts of kindness; and he endured with an air of contentment Mademoiselle Marthe"s poutings and the caresses of little Eugene, who was always drawing his dirty hands over the young man"s face. He was present at dinners at which Monsieur and Madame, facing each other, did not exchange a word, unless it happened that Arnoux provoked his wife with the absurd remarks he made. When the meal was over, he would play about the room with his son, conceal himself behind the furniture, or carry the little boy on his back, walking about on all fours, like the Bearnais.[11] At last, he would go out, and she would at once plunge into the eternal subject of complaint--Arnoux.
[Footnote 11: Henry IV.--Translator.]
It was not his misconduct that excited her indignation, but her pride appeared to be wounded, and she did not hide her repugnance towards this man, who showed an absence of delicacy, dignity, and honour.
"Or rather, he is mad!" she said.
Frederick artfully appealed to her to confide in him. Ere long he knew all the details of her life. Her parents were people in a humble rank in life at Chartres. One day, Arnoux, while sketching on the bank of the river (at this period he believed himself to be a painter), saw her leaving the church, and made her an offer of marriage. On account of his wealth, he was unhesitatingly accepted. Besides, he was desperately in love with her. She added:
"Good heavens! he loves me still, after his fashion!"
They spent the few months immediately after their marriage in travelling through Italy.
Arnoux, in spite of his enthusiasm at the sight of the scenery and the masterpieces, did nothing but groan over the wine, and, to find some kind of amus.e.m.e.nt, organised picnics along with some English people. The profit which he had made by reselling some pictures tempted him to take up the fine arts as a commercial speculation. Then, he became infatuated about pottery. Just now other branches of commerce attracted him; and, as he had become more and more vulgarised, he contracted coa.r.s.e and extravagant habits. It was not so much for his vices she had to reproach him as for his entire conduct. No change could be expected in him, and her unhappiness was irreparable.
Frederick declared that his own life in the same way was a failure.
He was still a young man, however. Why should he despair? And she gave him good advice: "Work! and marry!" He answered her with bitter smiles; for in place of giving utterance to the real cause of his grief, he pretended that it was of a different character, a sublime feeling, and he a.s.sumed the part of an Antony to some extent, the man accursed by fate--language which did not, however, change very materially the complexion of his thoughts.