Le Cocu Part 66

"You see this child's tears, and still you do not give her back her mother!"

I came to my senses and comforted my daughter; Caroline overwhelmed her with caresses; but, despite her efforts to detain me, I went away with the children; for I heard Monsieur Roquencourt coming, and at that moment it would have been impossible for me to endure a stranger's presence.

I paid several visits to my neighbors, but Caroline did not play the piano again when I was there. She lavished caresses and presents upon my children, which they could not refuse; with me she was sad and silent, but she always declared that I went away too soon.

I saw that at Ernest's house the new neighbors were not liked; that seemed to me very unjust, because they did not know them. They cast disdainful glances upon the toys that my daughter and Eugene received from Caroline; was it from jealousy, because her own children had not so many, that Madame Ernest cried down the presents that were given to my children? No, I knew Marguerite's warm heart; it was not susceptible of envy. Why was it then that she showed so much prejudice against Monsieur Roquencourt's niece?

On going one day to call upon Caroline, I was greatly surprised to meet Monsieur Giraud there. But I soon learned that he had been presented by a neighbor with whom he was pa.s.sing the day. In the country one friend brings another to call, and Giraud was one of those people who ask nothing better than to be brought. He seemed delighted to see me; one always likes to find acquaintances in a house to which one goes for the first time; it puts one more at ease. When he discovered that I was a welcome guest in the house, that the uncle and niece manifested much regard for me, Giraud redoubled his cordiality toward me. I guessed his motive; he had not come there without a purpose; he must have heard that Mademoiselle Derbin was a marriageable person. A lovely and rich young woman--what a fine chance to negotiate a marriage! He desired to establish friendly communications in the house. He overwhelmed Caroline with compliments, which, I thought, did not touch her at all; but he listened with imperturbable patience while Monsieur Roquencourt recited the role of Mascarille; that might obtain him an invitation to come again.

But the neighbor who had brought him expressed a wish to go home. Giraud took his leave regretfully, asking permission to pay his respects to the uncle and niece when he happened to be driving at Saint-Mande. They made a courteous reply, and he went away enchanted. I went at the same time, for I saw that he wished to speak to me. In fact, we were no sooner outside the house, than he put his arm through mine, slackened his pace, calling to his friend to go ahead, and plunged at once into conversation with me.

"My dear fellow, it seems to me that you are very intimate, received on very friendly terms at Monsieur Roquencourt's?"

"Why, Monsieur Giraud, I flatter myself that I am well received wherever I go. If it were otherwise----"

"That isn't what I mean. Bless my soul! I know your merit, my friend, although you no longer live with your wife; but that doesn't prove anything. Look you, this young Derbin woman is a magnificent match, if what they tell me is true. But I shall make inquiries. Twenty-five thousand francs a year, unenc.u.mbered, and expectations from her uncle!

and with all the rest, a pretty face, a fine figure, and talents! She plays the piano; does she play anything else?"

"I never asked her."

"Never mind! she is a most excellent match, and I have just the man that she wants."

"Indeed! you have----"

"Yes, you know very well that I always have husbands to offer. And so when Dupont, who is ahead of us there, spoke to me about this young lady, I said to him at once: 'You must take me there.'--He has brought me, and I shall come again. Are they always at home?"

"Except when they go out."

"But I mean, are they going back to Paris?"

"I have no idea."

"In that case, I shall come again soon; it is too good a chance not to make haste; somebody else will get ahead of me. Luckily Saint-Mande isn't far away, and there are the omnibuses. But you must help me a little, my dear fellow. Sound the uncle and niece and mention my young man to them."

"What young man?"

"The one whom I shall propose as a husband; a fine young fellow of twenty-two, an only son, with some money, who wants to buy a drug shop.

However, if he doesn't suit, I have others. The important thing is to find out whether the girl has any previous attachment.--Do you know whether she has?"

"By what right, Monsieur Giraud, should I ask that young lady such a question?"

"Bah! one can always find that out, without asking; however, never mind, help me a little inside the house; and I will try to have Dupont help too. I must overtake him now. My friend, sound the young lady, I beg you. You can offer a very good-looking fellow, with a hundred thousand francs, and two handsome inheritances in prospect. By the way, if she doesn't like the idea of a drug shop, which is very likely when she has twenty-five thousand francs a year, he will buy a solicitor's practice--that will suit her better; or, if necessary, he won't buy anything at all.--Hallo! I say, Dupont, here I am!--The deuce! he is quite capable of dining without me."

Giraud left me. I could not help laughing at his mania for marrying everybody; I had an idea that it was his only business, and that in addition to ordering the wedding banquet, he obtained a commission from the husband.

If he relied upon me to speak to Mademoiselle Derbin, he would be disappointed in his expectations. Fancy my speaking in favor of a person whom I did not know! Indeed, I did not see that it was so necessary for people to marry at all.

Three days had pa.s.sed since that meeting. I had forgotten Giraud, and I am inclined to think that they thought little about him at Monsieur Roquencourt's.

I had gone out for a moment without my children; I did not intend to see Caroline, but she was at the window when I pa.s.sed; she saw me and beckoned to me to come in. Her uncle was in the garden and she was alone in the salon. Since our parting at Mont-d'Or, for some reason or other I was always embarra.s.sed when I was alone with her.

For some time we did not speak. That is what often happens when two people have a great many things to say to each other. Caroline was sitting at her piano, but she did not play.

"Why do I never hear you play now?" I asked.

"Because it depresses you, and I do not see the sense of causing you pain."

"There are memories which are painful and sweet at the same time. I would like to hear once more that tune which you played the last time."

"And which made your daughter cry? Poor child! how dearly I love her!"

Caroline turned to the piano and played Eugenie's favorite piece. I abandoned myself to the charm of listening and to the illusion of my memories. My heart was swollen with tears, and yet I enjoyed it.

Caroline turned often to look at me, but I did not see her.

Suddenly a great uproar roused us from that situation, which had much charm for us both. The doorbell rang violently. Soon we heard several voices and the barking of a dog.

"What a nuisance!" cried Caroline; "one cannot be left in peace here a moment; my uncle receives all his neighbors! I absolutely must lose my temper with him."

The noise kept increasing, and it seemed to me that I heard familiar voices. At last they came toward the salon, and lo! Giraud entered, with his wife, his daughter, one of his sons, and a tall young man dressed as if for a ball, who dared not move for fear of disarranging the knot of his cravat or rumpling his shirt collar.

Caroline watched the entrance of all those people with wide-open eyes.

Giraud came forward with an offhand air and introduced his wife, saying:

"Mademoiselle, I have the honor to offer my respects, and to introduce my wife. Wife, this is mademoiselle, the niece of Monsieur Roquencourt, from whom I received such a cordial welcome last Sunday, and who urged me to call again when I was driving in this direction. These are my eldest son and my daughter. Bow to the lady, my children. Monsieur is one of our intimate friends; he was in our party and I took the liberty of introducing him.--Good-day, my dear Blemont; delighted to find you here again!"

Caroline bestowed a decidedly cool salutation upon the party; she contented herself with pointing to chairs. The Giraud family seated themselves; the young dandy took his seat on the edge of a couch, and Giraud at once continued:

"But where is our dear uncle, the amiable Monsieur Roquencourt? Bless my soul! how I did enjoy hearing him recite the part of Mascarille in _L'Etourdi_! and Monsieur de Crac! Ah! how good he was! I made my wife laugh heartily by telling her about it.--Didn't I, my love?"

"Yes, my dear.--But, mon Dieu! what does Azor mean by searching under all the chairs like that? Come here, Azor.--Monsieur Mouille, just give him a kick, if you please, to make him keep still."

Monsieur Mouille--that was the dandified young man's name--rose and tried to catch the dog. Being unable to do it, he gave him a kick, which made Azor fly from the salon yelping just as Monsieur Roquencourt entered. Everybody rose once more. Once more Monsieur Giraud introduced his family and his young man, adding:

"Monsieur Mouille does not come to the country often; he has so much business to attend to since he inherited from his uncle the merchant, who left him a hundred and fifty thousand francs and a buggy.--Was it a buggy or a tilbury that your uncle had?"

"It was a jolting affair," replied Monsieur Mouille, without turning his neck.

Giraud made a wry face and continued;

"Yes--in short, a carriage. That is very well for a young man of twenty-three. But when I told him that we were going to pay a visit to such agreeable people, he no longer hesitated to accompany us. Wife, this is Monsieur Roquencourt, who, as I was saying just now, used to act so well! Dieu! how you did make me laugh when you recited Mascarille!"

Monsieur Roquencourt seemed at first rather surprised to find so large a party, brought by a man whom he had seen but once; but the instant that the subject of acting was mentioned, his features dilated, his eyes gleamed, and he exclaimed:

"Yes, pardieu! I should say that I have acted! and before Dugazon, Larive and many others!"

"That is what I told my wife and Monsieur Mouille, that you acted before Dugazon. My dear, monsieur acted before Dugazon!"

"Mascarille is a fine part, very long; but, although I was very good in it, especially when I said: _'Vivat Mascarillus, fourb.u.m imperator----'_"