“Upon my word, my dear, you are very amiable! Why do you think that we are not so well able as men to decide what may be useful to us?”
“Because you are not brought up to do it.”
“My dear,” said Madame Germeuil, “education supplies neither intellect nor judgment. Believe me, a woman may give very good advice, and men are almost always wrong to despise it. The only advice that I can give you myself is not to form too rashly an intimacy with a man whom you have known only a week. Friendship should not be given so readily.”
“But Edouard is naturally so kind, so easy-going——”
“Oh! I know how to value people. I promise you that Dufresne’s friendship will be very valuable to me.”
“How so?”
“Parbleu! I mean to do as he does; and to increase our fortune, I too will go into business. I feel, moreover, that a man cannot live without having something to do. When we are in Paris, I can’t walk about from morning till night; I shall neither go hunting nor fishing.”
“That is just what I told you when you insisted on leaving your place,” said Mamma Germeuil; “but then you didn’t listen to me.”
“Oh! my dear mamma, if I had remained twenty years nailed to an office stool, what would that have led me to? To be a deputy chief perhaps, a year or two before being retired on a pension. A noble prospect! Instead of that, I may become very wealthy some day.”
“What, Edouard, have you become ambitious now?”
“I am not ambitious, my dear Adeline; but suppose I were? our family may be increased, and there is no law against a man’s thinking about the welfare of his children.”
“Of course not! of course not!” said Madame Germeuil; “but sometimes, by insisting upon running about after vain chimeras, you lose what you have for certain.”
“Oh! never fear, madame, I shall not run after chimeras. I shall act only upon certainty; I shall advance only a very little; and besides, Dufresne will give me good advice.”
Thus ended this conversation. Edouard left the house to meditate upon his new plans for acquiring wealth; Madame Germeuil returned sadly to her bedroom, and Adeline went out to muse alone in the garden.
A few days later, Monsieur Dufresne paid another visit to the family in the country. Edouard received him like an old friend, Madame Germeuil courteously, and Adeline rather coldly. The newcomer talked much of his affairs, of his speculations, of his extensive schemes. All this charmed and dazzled Murville, who was already crazy to start on the career which his friend was to open to him, and who, hurt by his mother-in-law’s lack of confidence in this method of making his way, was keenly desirous to prove to her the absurdity of her fears.
Despite all that Edouard could say, Dufresne stayed but one day with him. His time was all occupied and his interests recalled him to Paris. But the season was advancing; they could not remain longer among the fields, which were already losing their verdure. It was the end of October, and they had been in the country nearly six months. Edouard looked forward with delight to the moment for returning to Paris. Adeline reproached him gently; Madame Germeuil said nothing, but she was already apprehensive for the future, and everything had not turned out as she had hoped when she gave her daughter’s hand to Murville. The latter was of a weak, irresolute character, and yet Adeline did whatever he desired.
“Ah!” thought the good lady, “my daughter is too loving, too emotional. She is not the wife that Edouard needed. She knows how to do nothing but embrace and sigh; and if he ever chooses to make a fool of himself, she will never have the strength to resist! Let us hope that he will not do it.”
They returned to Paris. Then Edouard set about realizing the plans that he had formed. Every day he went to the Bourse and to the cafés where business men gathered; he did not go into any business at once, but he listened, walked about, talked and made acquaintances. Dufresne was often present, and he had promised his friend to let him in for a share in his brilliant speculations. Moreover, when business was not brisk, such people passed their time agreeably, laughing, telling one another the news of the day, talking about theatres, balls, fashions, concerts and love-affairs. The course of the stock market did not prevent them from being thoroughly posted as to the course of literature, music and dancing. While negotiating bills of exchange on Vienna or London, they enquired the name of the actress who was to play in the new piece; they undertook to sell shares and to hire a box at the Bouffons; they extolled the honesty of this or that tradesman, and the eccentricity of Lord Byron; the punctuality of a commission merchant, and the pirouettes of Paul; they knew the cause of the latest failure, and the plot of the melodrama which was then the rage; they knew what had happened at the last ball given by a banker, and in his wife’s curtained box at the theatre. In fact, they knew everything, for they discussed all subjects. At all these gatherings they declared war and peace, and settled the course of the weather; they divided, reunited, and enlarged empires with the end of a cane or switch; they knew the secrets of the cabinets of all the powers of Europe!—yet when they returned home to their wives, they did not notice everything that had taken place during their absence.
Adeline sighed for the happy days that she had passed in the country immediately after her marriage. However, her husband still loved her; she did not doubt it; but she saw him less frequently, and when he was with her, he no longer, as formerly, talked of love, of constancy, of conjugal happiness, but he assured her that he would soon be engaged in extensive affairs, speculations, in which he would make large profits.
“But what need have we of so much money, my dear?” said Adeline, throwing her arms about her husband; “I am soon to be a mother, that is to me the greatest of all joys; with your love I desire no other——”
“My dear love, what you say is very pretty; I share your sentiments, but I see farther than you do. Never fear, we shall be very happy some day.”
“Ah! my dear, never so happy, never more happy than I have been; before you knew Dufresne, you thought of nobody but me!”
“Well, now you are going to talk about Dufresne, are you? You don’t like him; you have taken a grudge against him. What has he done to cause this? He gives me good advice, and he is pushing me along the road to wealth; I don’t see in that any reason for detesting him!”
“I detest nobody.”
“But you receive him coldly, and Madame Dolban too.”
“I receive him as I do everybody.”
“Oh! no doubt; you would like to live like a bear, and never see any company.”
“I have not said that; but formerly I was enough for you, and you didn’t need company to be happy in your home.”
“Pshaw! now you are crying! tears are no argument! how childish you are! you know perfectly well that I love you, that I love nobody but you!”
“Oh! I won’t cry any more, my dear. If it pleases you, I will see a great deal of company.”
“Oh! I don’t say that; we will see if my plans succeed. Dufresne tells me that it would not be a bad idea for me to give evening parties, punches, with a violin and an écarté table. But don’t mention this yet to your mother,—she is so peculiar!”
“I won’t say anything, my dear.”
Edouard went out to his business, and Adeline remained alone. Thereupon, she gave free vent to her tears, for she could not conceal the fact from herself, that her husband was not the same. Still he loved her tenderly, he was not unfaithful; why then should she be disturbed by a change which was only natural and which nothing could prevent? Eight months of wedded life had not diminished Adeline’s affection. Her love was still as ardent, as exclusive, her caresses as warm and passionate; but a man’s heart needs a respite in its affections; it is unable to love a long while with the same passion; it beats violently and then stops; it blazes and then grows cold; it is a fire which does not burn with equal intensity; a trifle is sufficient to extinguish or rekindle it.
The young wife said all this to herself to console herself; above all, she determined to conceal her grief from her mother; but she could not change with respect to Dufresne; that man aroused in her a feeling of repulsion, which her heart could not explain. And yet he was agreeable, courteous to her; he had never ceased to be respectful in his attentions: at what then could she take offence? She had no idea, but she did not like him, and her glance caused him an embarrassment and confusion which were not natural; she fancied that she detected in him a sort of constraint which she could not define. When she appeared, Dufresne seemed ill at ease, and he left the room if Madame Dolban were present; if chance caused him to be left alone with his friend’s wife, he had nothing to say; but at such times, his eyes followed Adeline’s every movement, and they wore an expression which she could not endure.
Several days after the conversation he had had with his wife, Edouard returned home with a triumphant air; his face was radiant, his eyes gleamed with pleasure.
“What’s the matter, son-in-law, what has happened to you?” said Mamma Germeuil; “you seem very happy.”
“In truth, I am, and I have good reason to be.”
“Of course you will let us share your joy, my dear.”
“Yes, mesdames, you will cease now, I hope, to say that I delude myself with chimeras; by the luckiest chance I have recently become acquainted with a rich foreigner, who proposes to settle in France. He was looking for a large, pleasant house, all furnished, in one of the best quarters of the city; I found one for him; he looked at it, was delighted with it, bought it, and gives me six thousand francs for my trouble; and the seller gives me as much more for my commission. Well! isn’t that rather pleasant? Twelve thousand francs earned in a moment.”
“True, son-in-law, but you have been running about for three months to reach that moment!”
“Twelve thousand francs! That is well worth taking a little trouble for!”
“That is true, but such affairs must be rare.”
“I shall find others.”
“They will not all be so fortunate.”
“Oh! if a man earned twelve thousand francs every day, he would be too lucky.”
“In this matter, you do not seem to have needed Dufresne’s assistance?”
“Oh! he will put me in the way of more profitable ones yet. But in order to do a good business, I must have an office. You must understand that when my clients come to see me, I can’t receive them in a salon or a bedroom. I must have an office well stocked with boxes. That makes an impression; and as it is impossible to have a suitable place here, we must move.”
“What! do you mean to leave these lodgings, son-in-law?”
“Ah! my dear! this is where our hands were united by mamma. It was here that Hymen fulfilled our wishes, and I have been so happy here!”
“My dear love, one is happy anywhere when one is rich. We will take a much handsomer apartment. This salon is too small.”
“It is large enough to receive our friends.”
“Yes, but friends are not the only ones to be received; we have acquaintances too.”
“Son-in-law, don’t you think that you are undertaking an establishment beyond your means?”
“Madame, I wish to make my fortune; that is a very praiseworthy ambition, it seems to me; why should I not try what thousands of others have tried successfully? Have I less merit, less talents than my predecessors? I propose to prove the contrary to your satisfaction. Who is this manufacturer, whose name is in every mouth, whose wealth is immense and his credit unlimited? He came to Paris without a sou; he simply knew how to write and make figures; he entered, as a petty clerk, the establishment of which to-day he is the owner; but he was ambitious, he worked hard, and everything succeeded with him. This financier, who is engaged in such enormous operations on the Bourse, arrived from his village, asking hospitality at the taverns along the road, sleeping on straw, and eating nothing but bread, lucky when he had enough of that to satisfy his appetite. He stopped at Paris on Place du Péron, hesitating whether he should ask alms or should jump into the river. A tradesman happened to notice him and gave him a letter to carry; the promptness and zeal which he displayed in doing the errand interested people in his favor. Every one selected him for his messenger; he soon succeeded in saving some money, and speculated on his own account; the movement of stocks was favorable to him; and to make a long story short, he has become a millionaire. I could cite you a hundred similar examples; and since one may become something from nothing, it seems to me that it is much easier to become rich when one already has something in hand.”
“When one has nothing, son-in-law, one does not risk ruining oneself.”
“Oh! only the fools ruin themselves, madame!”
“It is better to be a fool than a knave, and many people have made their fortunes only at the expense of those of other people.”
“I trust, madame, that you do not consider me capable of enriching myself in that way?”
“No, of course not! But before everything else one should be orderly and economical. By this means the financier and manufacturer whom you mentioned just now have grown rich, and not by giving extravagant receptions and balls.”
“Other times, other methods, madame; to-day, men do business and seek enjoyment at the same time. They negotiate a sale while drinking punch, and sign a deed at a bouillotte or an écarté table, and buy consols while dancing a quadrille. Well, I see no harm in all that. It is what is called carrying on business gayly.”
“Yes, monsieur, but not substantially.—For my own part, I shall not choose for my banker the one who gives the most beautiful parties; and if it is your purpose to leave this lodging in order to live in that way, I warn you that I shall not live with you.”
Edouard made no reply to his mother-in-law, but took his hat and went out in a very ill humor, storming against women who insist upon meddling in business of which they understand nothing. Madame Germeuil remained with her daughter.
“Oh! mamma,” said Adeline, throwing herself into her mother’s arms, “don’t be angry with Edouard. Alas! It is I alone who am guilty. It was I who urged him to leave the place he had. But could I have anticipated? It is that Dufresne, it is his advice which turns my husband’s head.”
“My dear Adeline, in the early days of your married life, you should have taken possession of your husband’s mind, and accustomed him to do what you wanted; at that time it would have been very easy for you, but you did just the opposite.”
“I simply tried to please him, and we had but one will then! But soon I am going to be a mother. Ah! how impatiently I await that moment! I am sure that his child’s caresses will make Edouard forget all his schemes of wealth and grandeur.”
“May you say true!”
The term marked by nature approached. Edouard realized that that was no time to change his abode, so he said no more of his plans, and Adeline thought that he had abandoned them. Soon she brought into the world a pretty little girl, a faithful image of her mother’s charms. Edouard desired that Dufresne should be his child’s godfather, but Madame Germeuil refused him as an associate; so it was necessary to give way, and to take in his place an old annuitant, most upright, orderly and methodical, who gave the godmother three boxes of bonbons and two pairs of gloves, and promised to dine every week with the young mother, in order to learn how his goddaughter was coming on.
Edouard did not say a word, but he awaited his wife’s entire recovery before putting his plans into execution; and he secretly hoped that Madame Germeuil would persist in her refusal to change her lodgings, in order that he might no longer have beneath his roof a mother-in-law whose advice and reproaches were beginning to be distasteful to him.
Adeline was engrossed by the joy of being a mother; she nursed her child, in spite of all that Edouard could say to prove that that was not done in good society; but in that matter Adeline resisted her husband, the mother-love carried the day, and that new sentiment abated in some degree the force of the sentiment which hitherto had reigned despotically in her heart.
For some time Madame Dolban had been a less frequent visitor at the Murville house; Adeline and her mother did not know the reason, but they were not sorry to be less often in the company of Dufresne, who ordinarily accompanied Madame Dolban. They thought that if he saw him less often, Edouard would pay less heed to the new dreams of wealth which had been suggested to him by that young man.
The ladies were mistaken; Dufresne was very careful not to neglect Murville, with whose character he was now perfectly acquainted. He knew all that he could hope to gain by his acquaintance. He had, moreover, extensive projects. Which events will soon place us in a position to judge, no doubt. But like a clever man, Dufresne waited until the propitious moment came to carry out his plans. He saw that Madame Germeuil did not like him; the presence of Adeline’s mother interfered with his designs; so he tried shrewdly to sow discord between her and her son-in-law; he found a way of separating them, by suggesting to Edouard to find a larger apartment in order to give handsome parties. The two friends met everyday, and passed a large part of the morning together; and when Murville left the house at night, it was to go to other houses where Dufresne had agreed to meet him. Edouard could not do without his friend, he was unwilling to do anything without consulting him, to undertake anything until he had seen him. But if his wife gave him advice, if his mother-in-law ventured to make a remonstrance, Edouard lost his temper, flew into a rage, and insisted that he was the master, whereas he was simply the plaything of the man who had the art to flatter his tastes. A curious character! naturally weak, unreasonably obstinate, intending to be firm and not to allow himself to be guided by others, Edouard abandoned himself to the will of the man who secretly advised him to be persevering and determined in his plans, because he was well aware that that was the way to speak to a weak man who in his eyes was simply a mass of ductile matter, to which he could give whatever shape he chose.
Adeline did not suffer from the new duties to which she devoted herself; on the contrary, her features seemed even lovelier, her eyes more melting, her bearing more graceful; she was fascinating when she held her child in her arms, and when she went out in the morning to give her a breath of air. Another than Murville would have considered Adeline improved; but a husband rarely makes such observations, he sees only the contrary. In default of him, others notice his wife’s beauty, admire what he does not see, praise what he has ceased to praise, and rave over what he neglects; that is something that husbands do not think about, that they do not trouble themselves about at all, and yet it is the thing which plays them such cruel tricks.
One man observed what Edouard no longer observed; he followed Adeline, without her knowledge, he admired her charms, he divined those which he could not see and devoured with his eyes all that he could see. A violent passion had assumed the mastery of him; he was simply waiting for a favorable moment to try to induce her to share his passion. However, there was very little hope that he could win her love, and he knew it. Adeline was virtue personified; she was absolutely devoted to her husband and to her child. But there was no obstacle, no barrier, that the man who adored her had not resolved to overturn. Nothing can check the impetuous torrent swelled by heavy rains; nothing could discourage his love if we may thus name the unbridled desires, the delirium, the jealousy that for a long time had filled his heart. He had decided to attempt everything, to undertake everything, to dare everything, in order to triumph over Adeline; his passion, long concealed, was only the more violent on that account; the fire which devoured him was likely to consume everything when it should break forth. But who was this mysterious man, whose love thus far had remained a secret? You know him, reader, and I will wager that you have already guessed his name.
Edouard, who had plunged deeper than ever into business, of which he understood nothing, but which seemed to him all the more attractive on that account,—Edouard hired a handsome house, a fashionable carriage, bought magnificent furniture of the latest style, furnished a very elaborate office, with shelves on all sides, on which were pasteboard boxes, empty to be sure, but soon to contain the documents relating to the transactions which could not fail to come to his hands in a multitude. Pending their arrival, our man hired a clerk, who passed his time reading the Gazette and cutting quill pens.
Adeline was installed in her new abode. She looked at everything, sighed and held her peace. Madame Germeuil, on the contrary, burst forth into reproaches, and had a violent scene with her son-in-law. She predicted that he would ruin himself. Edouard was vexed and lost his temper, and a rupture followed. Madame Germeuil left her son-in-law’s house, swearing never to see him again; she refused to be moved by her daughter’s tears, tears for which the good woman blamed herself in the depths of her heart; she realized that it would have been better to give her daughter to a man of firm but sensible character than to a weak, irresolute creature, who had not enough intelligence to admit his failings, and too much obstinacy to repair them. But the harm was done.
After Madame Germeuil’s departure there was another scene between the husband and the wife; for Adeline could not forbear to scold her husband in her turn, and she begged him to go after her mother and bring her back. He was obstinate; he persisted in refusing to attempt a reconciliation, and he informed his wife that he was determined to do as he chose, that all remonstrance would be fruitless thenceforth and would not change his line of conduct, in which he did not propose to be guided by women.
Thus the splendid abode of the new business agent was christened by tears; but Murville no longer paid any heed to such trifles; he had matters of great importance in his head. Dufresne was to put him in the way of earning fifty thousand francs with a wealthy shipowner who had just arrived in Paris and was seeking investments for his money, with which he did not know what to do. In order to become acquainted with that invaluable man, it was necessary to give an evening party, a ball, to which he would be brought by a third person. The ball was decided upon; and in accordance with his friend’s advice, Edouard made the most elaborate preparations for a function which was to give him an established position in society. To be sure, the expenses of that function would be enormous. The twelve thousand francs earned some time before were largely spent; he had had to encroach upon his income to buy the furniture and to decorate his house; but all that was nothing at all; in order to reap, one must sow,—that was Dufresne’s maxim. And his example proved that it worked well with him; never had he seemed more fortunate, more magnificent, more at his ease. He had a cabriolet, a groom, and such diamonds! Therefore he must be doing an excellent business.
“My dear love,” said Edouard to his wife, one morning, “I am going to give a party to-morrow—a ball; you must prepare to do the honors.”
“You are going to give a party—to whom, pray? Can it be that you are reconciled with mamma?”
“Who is talking about your mother? She is a woman who insists upon meddling in affairs which she does not understand, and who, because her tastes lead her to live in a narrow circle, wishes also to prevent us from going out of it. You must agree that that is utterly absurd. However, when I have fifty thousand francs a year, I fancy that she will forgive me for not listening to her advice.”
“That will not be very soon, I take it!”
“Sooner than you think, madame, and I act accordingly.”
“And is that the reason that you are giving a party?”
“Exactly.”
“Whom do you expect to have?”
“Oh! never fear, we shall have lots of people. In the first place, we must, for it is the fashion now; if one is not crowded and pushed about in a salon, he does not think that he has enjoyed himself.”
“Oh! what nonsense, my dear! Who told you that?”
“It is not nonsense, madame. I go into society while you are taking care of your daughter.”
“Oh! I am well aware that you no longer stay with me.”
“That is necessary; I must show myself in society; that is the place where a man makes acquaintances.”
“Disastrous ones, sometimes!”
“Oh! mon Dieu! I am not a child; I know with whom I am dealing! Why, to hear you and your mother talk, anyone would think that I am not capable of taking care of myself.
“I never said that, my dear; but I cannot help regretting the time when I alone was sufficient for your enjoyment; then you passed all your time with me,—you did not go into society.—Well! were you not happy?”
“To be sure I was.”
“Then why have you changed your mode of life?”
“Why? why? That is a strange question to ask me! a man cannot always be making love to his wife, can he?”
“Oh! I have discovered that! But I did not expect to learn it after only a year of married life.”
“Well, well! are you going to begin your reproaches again? Women are never reasonable.”
“I am not reproaching you, my dear; give parties, as that gives you pleasure; I shall never object.”
“You are a love; you are not obstinate like your mother; and I tell you again that this is all for our good. So make the necessary preparations. I have already ordered and arranged everything, and all that you will have to do will be to see that my orders are carried out.”
“Very well. But what shall I say to people whom I do not know?”
“Oh! don’t let that trouble you! You just bow and smile to every one. With your grace and your wit you will always be fascinating.”
“I would like to be fascinating to you alone.”
“Do you mean that I am unfaithful to you? I am really so good——”
“That some day you will be laughed at for it.”
“Never fear, I love you only.—I am going to send a few more invitations; prepare for our party.”
Edouard kissed his wife and left her. Adeline, in order to please him, inquired about what was to be done on the following day; she was alarmed at the magnitude of the expense, but it was too late to oppose it. After giving her orders, the young wife went to see her mother. It was on Madame Germeuil’s bosom that she poured out her grief, though she concealed much of it, in order not to make her mother more bitter against her husband.
“Oh!” said Adeline, “so long as he is faithful to me, I shall have nothing to complain of. I can forgive him everything except indifference, which I absolutely could not endure.”
The next day, at daybreak, everything was in confusion in the Murville establishment. The servants could not attend to the innumerable preparations which were under way on every side; workmen came to put carpets and chandeliers in place and vases of flowers along the stair-rails. The mirror-maker’s apprentices, upholsterers, florists and decorators filled the salons, and got in the way of the footmen and other servants. Soon the caterers arrived, the pastry cooks and the ice dealer’s men, who took possession of the servants’ quarters and began the decoration of the sideboards, which were to be furnished in the evening in the most sumptuous way, and to offer everything which could fascinate the eyes, the nose and the palate at once. Adeline attempted to pass through several rooms to her husband’s office; she was bewildered by the uproar, the shouts, the tumult; she could not recognize her own apartments. At last she spied Edouard walking about the salons, and watching with a self-satisfied air the preparations for the party.
“Well, my dear love,” he said to his wife as soon as he caught sight of her, “what do you think of all this?”
“That I do not understand how anyone can take so much trouble to entertain people whom one does not know, and who feel no obligation for the pains which one takes to treat them so handsomely.”
“But, my dear love, you must remember that a man does all this for his reputation’s sake. Parbleu! I care nothing at all for the people whom I entertain; I am not at all anxious for their friendship, but I am anxious that people should say in society: ‘Monsieur Murville’s party was delightful, nothing was lacking; and everything was in the very best style. That function must have cost a tremendous sum!’—You will agree that that will do me credit; people will assume that I have a considerable fortune, and that I have more business than I desire.—Be sure to dress handsomely, and wear your diamonds; they are not so fine as I wish they were, but before long I hope to make you a present of a superb string of them.”
“My dear, you know perfectly well that I do not want anything of that kind; your love alone——”
“It is getting late; go and dress.”
The time fixed for the party arrived; between nine and ten o’clock, the carriages and the pedestrians—for some people always come on foot, even to the largest balls—the courtyard of Murville’s house in swarms. They crowded under the porte cochère; the coachmen insulted one another and disputed for precedence; the young women, wrapped in their pelisses or cloaks, jumped lightly to the landing, and waited, one for her mother, another for her husband, to take her up to the salons. The officious young man mounted the stairs gracefully, his body enveloped in an ample cloak lined with crimson velvet, which concealed almost the whole of his face, leaving only the end of his nose visible; he offered his hand to a young lady whose fear of the horses standing in the courtyard had separated her from her escort. The young gallant in the cloak saw only a pair of very expressive eyes and a few curls, for all the rest was concealed under the hood of a pelisse; but he saw enough to divine lovely features and the form of a nymph. He gently pressed the hand which she entrusted to him; he engaged his fair unknown for the first quadrille, and his hopes were aroused before he had even entered the reception room. That room was crowded; in one corner the ladies arranged their dresses, gave a last glance to their finery, which had become rumpled in the carriage; farther on, in a less brilliantly lighted spot, a number of economical bank clerks took slippers from their pockets and put them on in place of their shoes, which they carefully wrapped in large pieces of paper with their gaiters, and placed them under some heavy piece of furniture which was not likely to be moved. After effecting this slight change of costume, they carefully pulled their ruffs from their waistcoats, retied their cravats, passed their hands through their hair, rumpling it or smoothing it according as their style of beauty required, and then, drawing themselves up proudly, entered the salon with an air of impertinence and conceit which was calculated to persuade all the other guests that they had come in a tilbury.
The salon was already filled with women of all ages; for by the face only, not by the dress, could the mother be distinguished from the daughter, the aunt from the niece. The men strolled about, eyeglass in hand, and despite that little accessory, almost put their noses into the ladies’ faces, as they stopped in front of them, making wry faces when one was not to their liking; while the ladies themselves smiled at them instead of spitting in their faces as their insolent manner of staring at them well deserved. Soon the crowd became so large that one could hardly move. That was the delightful moment; a young exquisite halted in front of a girl seated beside her mother, and made the most indecent gestures, which the poor child avoided only by keeping her own eyes constantly on the floor, which prevented her from enjoying the spectacle of the ball; but the young man was persistent; he did not stir from in front of her, and had the effrontery to interpret in his favor the blush which covered the brow of her whom he deigned to notice. A few steps away, another young exquisite pointed out to four or five of his friends a pretty woman whose husband stood nearby; he told them in confidence that she had been his mistress for a week; his friends congratulated him, and asked him for details concerning the lady’s secret charms and her way of making love; he replied, laughing heartily, and gesticulating like one possessed, which could not fail to attract every eye, and to arouse the curiosity of those who did not hear him. Luckily the husband was of the latter number; but he desired to know what was being said, so he approached and enquired:
“What are you laughing at so loudly, gentlemen?”
“Oh! it was nothing, a joke he was telling us.”
“Some rascality, I will wager; you are sad rakes!”
“You will find out later what it was.”
And the young men dispersed, laughing louder than ever; the husband laughed with them; he did not know why, but he wanted to seem to be informed.
The signal to begin the dance was given, and an excellent orchestra, directed by Collinet, played several delightful quadrilles, which invited one to dance; fascinating tunes, selected from the masterpieces of the great masters, are now used as the theme and motif of a poule, a trénis, or a pantalon. How can one resist the temptation, when one has the opportunity to execute a pirouette, a balancé, or an entre-chat to passages from Rossini, Mozart, or Boieldieu? The ear is no less charmed by the method of execution; modern quadrilles are little concerts for wind and stringed instruments; it requires talent to play them. We have left to the poor blind men such tunes as the Monaco, the Périgourdine and the Furstemberg; we need artistes to play the quadrilles of Weber, Collinet, Rubner, etc.
There was little room; the guests trod on one another’s feet, and jostled one another; but they danced, and that was the essential thing; what joy for the young woman who desires to display her charms, and for the woman on the decline who flatters herself that she is still very light on her feet!
Those who were not attracted by the dancing and the music took their places at an écarté table; there they abandoned themselves to their passion for gambling, awaiting a favorable stroke of luck; they tried to fathom the play of their opponents, to read upon their faces what cards they had in their hands. They forgot their wives or their daughters; and very frequently those ladies in the salon forgot those who were at the écarté table.
The bets opened and soon became very considerable; young men, who should have paid no heed to aught except the ladies and the dance, waited anxiously to see if their adversary would turn a king; their blood boiled; the sight of gold, the hope of winning, led them on; and more than one, who walked away from the tables with empty pockets, would refuse the next day to give money to his tailor or his bootmaker; while our economical friends of the shoes and the gaiters, who had allowed themselves to be led astray by example, observed to one another as they took off their slippers, that they would have done better to hire a cab than to bet or play écarté.
Others had recourse to the sideboard for consolation and stuffed themselves with pastry and refreshments; the greatest glutton took the most delicate sweetmeats, on the pretext that he was taking them to the ladies. What horrible waste there is in such mobs! Plates overturned, one dish cast aside to take another, of which three-quarters is left; the creams that the guests snatch from one another; the bonbons that disappear before one has time to take one;—such is the ordinary course of collations at large parties; the sideboard is always being pillaged, and the young men who surround it act as if they had eaten nothing for a week. What an extraordinary way for people in good society to behave!
Adeline tried to discover some acquaintance amid the crowd and the tumult; but most of the faces were unknown to her. Weary of listening to insipid or exaggerated compliments, addressed to her by men whom she did not know, and disgusted at being stared at through the eyeglasses of these men, the young woman seized a moment when everybody was busy according to his or her taste, to go to her room, to make sure that her daughter was asleep, and to enjoy, by embracing her, the only pleasure that that evening could afford her.
To reach the room where her little Ermance was in bed, Adeline was obliged to leave her guests altogether, for she had determined that her child should not be awakened by the noise; she passed through several half-lighted rooms and finally reached her daughter’s side; she paused by the cradle and gazed at Ermance, who was sleeping peacefully. With her mind more at ease, Adeline was going back to her guests; but, as she entered a dimly-lighted boudoir which adjoined her daughter’s bedroom, she saw some one gliding along the wall. A feeling of alarm took possession of her.
“Who is there?” she said instantly.
“Don’t be afraid, madame; I am distressed to have taken you so by surprise.”
Adeline recovered herself, for she recognized Dufresne’s voice, and asked: “What are you seeking here?”
“The noise and heat of the salon made me feel uncomfortable; I was very glad to be able to come away and rest for a moment.”
Adeline went into the next room for a lamp, and brought it into the room where Dufresne had remained; he followed her every movement with his eyes, and seemed intensely agitated.
“If you are not feeling well, I will go and bring you something.”
“Oh, no! stay, madame, I beg you; your presence is a hundred times more beneficial to me.”
Dufresne had taken Adeline’s hand; she, amazed by the extraordinary tone and by the fire with which he addressed her, did not know what reply to make, but stood before him sorely embarrassed. Dufresne squeezed violently the hand that he held in his. Adeline withdrew it at once in dismay, and started to leave the room, but he stood in front of her and stopped her.
“What do you want of me?” she said to him, her voice trembling with a feeling of terror she could not explain.
“That you should listen to me, madame, that you should deign to listen to me.”
“What have you to say to me, pray, that demands so much mystery? We might talk quite as well in the salon.”
“No, madame, no,—here. Ah! for a long while I have been postponing this moment; but I feel that it is impossible for me to conceal longer the passion which consumes me; no, I am no longer able to see you, to contemplate so many charms, without giving expression to the ardor which devours me.”
“What are you saying to me, monsieur?”
“That I love you, that I adore you, lovely Adeline, and that you must be mine!”
“Merciful heaven! What do I hear?”
“Learn all at last; know that from the first moment that I saw you, you have been the object of all my thoughts, of all my desires, the goal of all my acts; I became intimate with Madame Dolban only to obtain an opportunity to be introduced at your house; that hope and the hope of winning your favor some day alone prevented me from committing some foolish extravagance between the day of your wedding and the day when I was introduced to you. But how I suffered then, concealing from everyone the flame which consumed me! and what torments have I not endured when I have seen you lavishing upon my fortunate rival all those caresses which he received with indifference, whereas a single one would have been the height of felicity to me.”
“This is too much, monsieur; I have restrained my indignation, but I shall no longer be able to do so, if I listen to you any more.”
“Your indignation! Wherein do I deserve it?”
“To call my husband your rival, and in return for his friendship to try to win his wife—such conduct is shocking!”
“Such conduct is very common, and it only seems shocking to you because you do not share my sentiments; for, if you loved me, instead of being a monster, I should be an unhappy wretch consumed by an insurmountable passion, suffering for a long while and concealing his agony from every eye, even before her who is the cause of it. Such conduct then would not seem criminal to you; so much love and constancy would arouse your pity at least, and you would accord it to me, madame, you would listen to me without anger, and perhaps a gentler sentiment would plead my cause in your heart, and would help me to obtain the reward of all my attentions. That, madame, is what you should consider. I adore you—that is my crime; it will cease to be a crime if you share my passion; success insures forgiveness for the most audacious enterprises, and I shall be guilty only if you hate me.”
“Your speeches, monsieur, will never justify you in my eyes. I might excuse your love, but not your hope of inducing me to share it. A person is not master of his heart, I believe, but he is master of his conduct, and yours is unworthy of a decent man——”
“Madame——”
“Never speak to me again of your love; only on that condition do I agree to forget this conversation and to refrain from repeating it to my husband.”
“Your husband! He wouldn’t believe you.”
“What do you say?”
“No, madame, he would never believe anything that you might say against me. Do you suppose that I have not provided against everything? I have obtained such control over your husband’s mind that he no longer sees except through my eyes, no longer acts except by my will; in fact, he is a machine, whose movements I govern at my pleasure. But tremble, if you reject my suit, for the power which I shall exert over the weak-minded Edouard! You will learn then to know me, and you will repent your unjust pride; but it will be too late, for my hatred will be as active as my love is violent.”
“Abominable man! I feel that the horror that you have inspired in me has increased twofold, but I defy your threats, and I forbid you to come into my presence again.”
Dufresne’s face expressed rage and irony at once; his nerves contracted, a bitter smile played about his lips, while his eyes darted flashes of fire. Adeline, in terror, tried to fly; he stopped her, threw his muscular arms about her, pressed her violently to his breast, and placed his burning lips upon his victim’s heaving breast; he was about to proceed to the last excess, but the young woman uttered a piercing shriek; people hurried to the spot, the sound of footsteps drew near. Dufresne opened a window looking on the garden, jumped out and disappeared.
Several servants and young men entered the room; they gathered about Adeline and inquired the cause of her alarm. Her eyes wandered distractedly about; the sight of the open window recalled all that had passed, and she realized the necessity of concealing her emotion.
“What’s the matter, madame, what has happened to you?” was asked on all sides.
“I don’t know,” she said, trying to calm her agitation, “I did not feel very well, the heat made me uncomfortable. I came to this room to obtain a breath of fresh air; but as I opened that window, a fit of dizziness—I tried to call for help, and I had not the strength.”
The explanation seemed very plausible; they urged Madame Murville not to return to the salon, where the intense heat might make her ill again. Adeline had no idea of doing so; she would have been unable to endure Dufresne’s presence. So she withdrew to her apartments, requesting somebody to apologize for her to the rest of the company.
She asked her maid to tell Edouard that she wished to see him as soon as he was at liberty. The servant delivered the message. But Murville paid little heed to it. He had just lost forty louis at écarté to an exceedingly pretty young woman, who bestowed very expressive glances upon him, smiling at him and showing the loveliest teeth in the world; and, accidentally, no doubt, allowed her little foot to rest upon his, and her knee to remain between his legs. How could he help allowing himself to be beaten by so attractive a player? She pouted so sweetly when he refused to give her cards that it was impossible to resist her. Edouard felt that he was subjugated; but imagine his sensations when she asked him to wipe the perspiration from a very white back, which was moist from dancing! He performed the service with trembling fingers; she thanked him with a pressure of the hand, and invited him to come to see her and to take his revenge for the game of écarté.
At five in the morning, they danced the regulation quadrille to close the ball. They laughed and mixed the figures up and tired themselves out; they made much noise and much dust; and then they took their leave, one carrying away an old hat in place of the new one he had had when he came, and which he could not find; another, minus the pretty cane which he had taken pains to place in a dark corner; very fortunate when the mackintosh or overcoat or cloak had not been changed.
Advice to young men who frequent large parties: Do not carry valuable canes, and wear nothing better than an old hat to leave in the reception room, unless you choose to keep it in your hand all the time, as many people do nowadays to avoid the slight vexation which we have just mentioned.
Edouard, with a full heart and an empty purse, went to his room, engrossed by the pretty woman with whom he had played écarté, and without a thought for his own wife, who had long been waiting for him in vain.
Adeline had risen during the night, being anxious concerning her husband; but on learning that he had gone to his apartment very late, she decided not to disturb his rest, and waited until he should be awake to tell him what had taken place in the evening between herself and Dufresne, whom she hoped to make known to him as he really was.
Edouard woke and went downstairs to breakfast. Adeline was waiting for him; she reproached him gently for his indifference of the night before; but he hardly listened to her; he was distraught, preoccupied, and complained of a violent headache which he hoped to get rid of by going out. Adeline detained him, informing him that she had something of great importance to say. Amazed by his wife’s tone, Edouard instinctively resumed his seat and requested her to hurry because business required his attention. The servants were dismissed and Adeline repeated to her husband her conversation with Dufresne on the previous evening.
Edouard listened at first with indifference; but soon displeasure and impatience were depicted upon his face.
“Well, my dear,” said Adeline, after she had told him everything, “what do you think now of your sincere friend?”
“I think—I think that you make a crime of a trifle, and a matter of importance of something that amounts to nothing.”
“What! my dear——”
“Certainly; a declaration to a woman! mon Dieu! is that such a rare thing, for heaven’s sake, a thing for which it is necessary to make so much fuss? Every day pretty women receive declarations addressed to them in jest, to which they attach no more importance than they deserve. But you take fright at a word! a simple compliment seems to you an attempt at seduction! you shouldn’t take things so! But I know you: you don’t like—more than that, you detest Dufresne. For a long time you have been trying to ruin him in my estimation, and you seize this pretext for accomplishing your purpose; but I warn you, madame, that you will not succeed.”
“Is it possible, monsieur? do you accuse me, do you suspect me of being capable of deceiving you?”
“Or of being deceived? How do you know that Dufresne did not talk all that nonsense to you to make sport of you, and to be revenged for your hatred, which he perceives very plainly?”
“Was it for that purpose too that he tried to carry his audacity so far as to kiss me?”
“Kiss you! Well, I admit that he was wrong to kiss you against your will, and I shall scold him for it. But a kiss is not a thing which should irritate you to this point!”
“You do not intend then, monsieur, to cease to receive Monsieur Dufresne in your house?”
“Most assuredly, madame, I do not intend to make myself unhappy, to make myself ridiculous, and to cause people to point their fingers at me as a jealous husband, simply because somebody ventured to embrace you in jest! That would be utterly absurd! But calm yourself, I will forbid Dufresne to mention his passion to you again!”
“What, Edouard, you laugh! You think so little of what I have told you?”
“I do what it is my duty to do, and I know how to behave.”
“Alas! you no longer love me, I see. Formerly you were more jealous.”
“One may love without being jealous; and besides—but it is getting late, and I have business that I must attend to.”
“What about that rich shipowner for whom you gave the party?”
“He was not able to come.”
“So all your expense was useless?”
“Useless! No, indeed; I was very warmly congratulated on my party. It will do me a great deal of good in the sequel, and I am delighted that I gave it.—I must leave you, for I have not a moment of my own.”
Edouard hurried away to Dufresne. That gentleman seemed a little disturbed at sight of him, but he soon recovered himself; it was not to talk about what his wife had told him that Murville was so eager to be with him, but to talk about the lovely woman with whom he had played écarté the night before, to find out who she was and what position she held in society; in a word, it was to dilate without reserve upon desires and hopes which he did not shrink from disclosing to his friend.
Dufresne gratified Edouard’s curiosity by informing him that Madame de Géran was the widow of a general, that she was absolutely her own mistress, that she had some means but possessed the art of spending money rapidly, because she was exceedingly fond of pleasure. Dufresne took pains to add that many men paid court to the young widow, but that she received their homage with indifference, treated love as a joke and made sport of the flames she kindled, and that her conquest seemed to be difficult of accomplishment.
All that he learned added to Edouard’s newly-born passion. What joy to carry off the palm from so many rivals,—and Madame de Géran had looked at him and treated him in such a way as to justify him in forming hopes. The fact was that she had turned his head; and Dufresne, who had no difficulty in reading the weak and fickle Murville’s heart, seized the opportunity to broach the subject of his interview with Adeline, taking pains to represent the thing as a mere pleasantry, which he did not expect would be so severely reprehended.
“Yes, yes, I know,” said Edouard; “my wife spoke to me about it this morning.”
“Ah! she told you——”
“That you were a monster, a villain, a false friend!”
“Indeed!”
“And much more too! for I warn you that she is furiously angry with you. But never fear—I will pacify her; she will see that she took the thing in the wrong way when she learns that you mentioned it first.”
“I am truly sorry that I amused myself by—But after all, your wife is a very strange woman!”
“It’s her mother, Madame Germeuil, who has stuffed her head with romantic ideas.”
“Certainly no one would ever think that she was educated in Paris.”
“Oh! she will have to form herself in good society. Would you believe that she expressed a purpose not to receive you again?”
“If my presence is unpleasant to Madame Murville, I shall be careful to avoid her.”
“Nonsense! that is just what I don’t propose to have, or I shall be angry with you. I mean that you shall come to the house more than ever; that is my desire and it must suffice. Are you not friendly enough to me to overlook my wife’s eccentric character?”
“Oh! my attachment to you has no bounds!”
“Dear Dufresne!—Look you, to prove how much confidence I have in you, and how little heed I pay to my wife’s fairy tales, I am going to confide a secret to you, and I rely on your friendship to help me in the matter.”
“I am entirely devoted to you—speak.”
“My friend, I love, I adore, I am mad over Madame de Géran.”
“Is it possible? Why, you have only known her since last night.”
“That is long enough to make me love her.—What would you have—we cannot control those things. It’s a caprice, a weakness, whatever you choose to call it! But I have lost my head.”
“You, Murville—such a reasonable man! and married, too!”
“Oh! my dear fellow, are married men any more virtuous than bachelors? You know very well that the contrary is true; a man can’t stick to his wife forever.”
“If your wife should think as you do!”
“Oh! so far as that is concerned, I am not alarmed; my wife is virtue personified, and she does no more than her duty; for a woman—that’s a very different matter.”
“As to the consequences, yes; but morally, and even according to the law of nature, I consider that the fault is absolutely identical.”
“You are joking! At all events, aren’t the consequences everything? Is the absurdity of it the same? Will any one ever laugh at a wife whose husband has mistresses? No, nothing is ever said then, because it is considered a very common occurrence; but if a wife makes her husband a cuckold——”
“That is a very common occurrence too.”
“For all that, people laugh at the poor husband and point their fingers at him!—Besides, what harm can come of the husband’s infidelity? None at all. The fair ones who have yielded to him won’t go about boasting of it! With a woman it is just the opposite; her lovers always ruin her reputation, either by their words, or by their actions, which never escape the eyes of curiosity and calumny. In fact, a woman who finds her husband in another woman’s arms can only complain and weep; while a man who surprises his wife in flagrante delicto has a right to punish the culprit; so you see, my dear fellow, that the offence is not the same, as the punishment is different.”
“I see that it was we men who made the laws, and that we treated ourselves very well.”
“Are you going to preach to me too? Really, Dufresne, you are almost as savagely virtuous as my wife.”
“No, my dear fellow, you don’t know me yet. But before assisting you, I wanted to find out whether you had fully weighed the consequences of this intrigue.”
“I have weighed and calculated everything. I love Madame de Géran, and I wish to be loved in return. I feel that there is no sacrifice of which I am not capable to attain my object. Do you understand?”
“Oh! very well. Since your mind is made up, I will second you; but of course you won’t reproach me for leading you on.”
“No, no! On the contrary, I beg you to assist me, and to help me to conceal this intrigue from my wife’s eyes.”
“Don’t be alarmed—leave all that to me. I will answer for all. When will you call on Madame de Géran?”
“This evening. They play cards there, of course?”
“Yes, and for rather high stakes.”
“The devil! The fact is that I haven’t any money. That party drained me dry.”
“It is very easy to obtain some. Consols are at a very high premium. Sell. They cannot fail to drop before long; then, as we shall have speculated in something else, and you will probably be in funds, you can buy in again. You see, it is a good thing to do from a business standpoint.”
“True, you are right. But the consols are in my wife’s name.”
“Can’t you get her to sign by telling her that you are engaged in a magnificent operation?”
“Oh, yes! she will sign, I am sure; she’ll sign whatever I want her to.”
“Take advantage of her compliant disposition to sell your consols; I tell you again, they are on the point of falling, and in a few days you will be able to buy the same amount with much less money. If it will be any more convenient for you, I will see to the business for you.”
“You will confer a great favor on me, for I am still rather a bungler in business, and but for you I should often be embarrassed.”
“Don’t be afraid. Act boldly. I assure you that your party last night added immensely to your credit. If you needed thirty thousand francs, you could easily obtain them.”
“You delight me. I will go back to my wife. Wait for me at the café; I will be there very soon with the papers in question.”
“I will go there. Be on your guard with your wife.”
“Do you take me for a child?—I won’t say adieu, my dear Dufresne.”
Edouard hastened home and went up to Adeline’s apartment, where he found her with her child in her arms. At sight of her husband, who was not accustomed to come home during the day, a soothing hope made her heart beat fast; she thought that it was love that led him back to her, and a smile of happiness embellished her lovely features.
Edouard was speechless in her presence; he was embarrassed, he was conscious of a painful sensation; he felt that he was guilty toward her, but he did not choose to admit it even to himself.
“Is it you, my dear?” said Adeline in the sweetest of tones; “how happy I am when I see you! It happens so rarely now!—Come and kiss your daughter.”
Edouard walked mechanically toward them and kissed the child with a distraught air, heedless of her infantile graces. He stood like one in a dream, unable to decide how to broach the subject that had brought him there.
“You seem distressed,” said Adeline; “is anything troubling you? For heaven’s sake, let me share your trouble—you have no more loving, more sincere friend than your wife.”
“I know it, my dear Adeline, but nothing is troubling me. No, I am preoccupied, because I am thinking of a very important transaction in which I shall make a great deal of money.”
“Always schemes, speculations—and never love, repose and happiness!”
“Oh! when we are rich—why, then—But I have a request to make of you; I want to ask you to sign a paper—it has to do with an operation that will be very profitable.”
“Are you certain of that, my dear?”
“Yes, perfectly certain; it was——”
Edouard was going to say that it was Dufresne who gave him that assurance, but he reflected that that would not be the best way to convince his wife, and he checked himself. Having taken from his desk all the papers that he required, he drew up a document by which his wife assented to the transfer of her consols, and with a trembling hand presented the pen to Adeline. She, trustful and submissive, signed the paper which he put before her, without even reading it.
“That is all right,” said Murville as he put the papers in his pocket. “Now I must hurry to the Bourse, to conclude this important affair.”
He kissed Adeline and hurried from the room. She realized that it was not to see her that he had come home; but her heart made excuses for him; she believed him to be entirely engrossed by business.
“He loves nobody but me,” she said to herself; “that is the main thing. I must forgive this love of work, and this perfectly natural desire to enrich his wife and children.”
Poor Adeline! she did not know what use her husband proposed to make of the money that he was in such haste to obtain.