My Neighbor Raymond Part 55

"Why, yes, pretty nearly."

"Oh! you don't choose to admit it, but I saw well enough that you thought her pretty."

"Pretty; to be sure she is."

"And well bred."

"As to that, I think so, but----"

"In short, she pleased you, my dear brother?"

"Pleased me! oh! come now! I haven't said anything to prove----"

"But I can't see why it isn't perfectly natural. Surely your lady friends in Paris can't resemble the charming Pelagie?"

"Resemble her! Oh! as to that, I agree with you absolutely."

Amelie seemed quite content; in vain did I tell her that she was mistaken; she was persuaded that I was in love with Pelagie. Deneterre kept repeating that it would be an excellent match; and as I could not make them stop talking, I adopted the expedient of going to bed.

For several days nothing unusual disturbed the even tenor of life under my sister's roof. Every evening I went with her to some reception; for when I attempted to stay behind, she always found some way to make me do as she wished. So that I saw Mademoiselle Pelagie every evening, for she accompanied her aunt, who never failed to be on hand for her game of whist or reversis, which she even played in the morning, with three dowagers who had done nothing else for fifteen years, and in whose eyes their game was of such importance that one wept when her king was trumped, and another fell ill because she had discarded the knave of hearts.

Pelagie took part in the minor games, but she continued to be as shy and embarra.s.sed as on the first day I saw her. As she was very pretty, the other young ladies had no mercy on her. Some of the young lady killers of the town undertook to make to her the pretty, gallant speeches which men of wit no longer venture to use, because they are too trite. But the wit of the dandies of Melun seemed to make no impression on Pelagie's mind; she listened very coldly to their compliments, and made no other reply than a low bow. The young men, vexed to produce so little effect, went elsewhere to play the b.u.t.terfly. I alone remained true to Mademoiselle de Pontchartrain, and I alone obtained from her replies not quite so laconic. To be sure, I paid her no embarra.s.sing compliments, and placed myself on her level by talking with her of the simplest subjects. She seemed a little less timid with me; she began to raise her eyes when she answered me; and twice I fancied that she actually smiled at me. Decidedly I was a favored mortal.

The novelty of this method of making love amused and distracted me. My heart was still perfectly tranquil in Pelagie's presence; and yet, since I had known her I had thought less of Nicette. The young innocent filled my thoughts, and, while I had no love for her, I liked to be with her; her pretty face did no harm, but her shyness and her artlessness attracted me even more.

My sister had ceased to talk about her, but I saw she was well pleased.

The great-aunt treated me very affably; she interrupted her game sometimes to inquire for my health; which fact indicated the extraordinary favor with which she regarded me. The young ladies, it must be said, no longer evinced the same interest in me, manifested much less pleasure at my arrival, and did not make me pay a forfeit at the kissing stage of their games; but as I attached no value to the privilege, I paid no heed to their indifference. The mammas whispered to one another as they looked at me, while the papas smiled slyly at me; everything indicated that a great event was expected; I was perhaps the only one who gave no thought at all to the subject with which the whole town was agog.

Deneterre was the first to open my eyes.

"When's the wedding to be?" he asked me one evening, rubbing his hands.

"What's that? what wedding?"

"Parbleu! yours!"

"Mine! with whom, pray?"

"With whom! with whom! Ah! you choose to be close-mouthed! But we have eyes, my dear fellow, and we know what to think."

"But I believe I have eyes, too, and I have seen nothing to imply----"

"Come, come, my dear Eugene," interposed my sister, "why pretend any longer with us, your best friends? You love Pelagie; what do I say? love her? you adore her; I am sure of it. The whole town knows it, too; it's no longer a mystery."

"Oho! the whole town knows that----"

"Yes, my dear. And the young woman has shown her preference for you; that also is very easy to see: moreover, no one should claim to cut you out. The aunt considers you a very suitable match; she knew our mother and she thinks a great deal of our family. When her niece is married, she will settle three thousand francs a year on her, and leave her the rest of her property at her death. It seems to me that that is not to be despised; with what you have now, you will be in comfortable circ.u.mstances, and you will make a charming couple. Tell me, when do you want me to go to ask for her hand?"

I listened to my sister, and I admit that I was greatly surprised by what I heard. However, on mature reflection, I realized that my conduct, which would never have been noticed at Paris, might well, in a small town, give rise to the conjectures which were relied upon to induce me to marry Mademoiselle de Pontchartrain.

Amelie and her husband told me so often and so earnestly that I loved Pelagie, that I began to think that they would end by making me believe it. And, after all, should I be so badly off if I married that young innocent? If I was not in love with her, perhaps I should be all the happier; moreover, I was well aware that I was incapable of a new love; the most that I could do was to stamp out that which still tormented me in spite of myself.

Beside the innocent Pelagie, I should pa.s.s placid days; she was bashful, virtuous, well bred; a husband would be able to mould her as he chose.

Friendship, they say, is more durable than love; I would begin with friendship for my wife, so that I might love her the longer. I should not be jealous; I should have one less source of torment. I should have children, whom I would bring up on a very different plan from my sister's. Finally, having a gentle, guileless, and taciturn wife, we should have none of those little discussions which Amelie called conjugal amenities, but which were in my eyes very unpleasant quarrels.

All these reflections produced a state of indecision, which my sister interpreted in accordance with her favorite idea. Persuaded that I loved Pelagie secretly, that Pelagie adored me, and that our union would make me the happiest of husbands and ensure my future peace of mind, Amelie urged me, hara.s.sed me, persecuted me, to induce me to authorize her to ask for the hand of Mademoiselle de Pontchartrain. At every moment in the day she drew for me a new picture of the delights of wedded life.

Deneterre did the same; in the first place, to please his wife, and, secondly, because he thought it would be a good match for me; to cap the climax, even messieurs my nephews had been taught their lesson, and every day, as they climbed on my knees or my shoulders, they would say:

"When are you going to invite us to the wedding, uncle?"

I am naturally weak, as you must have noticed; tired of being tormented from morning till night to marry, I saw that I must either make up my mind to do it or leave the town, where I was already pointed out as Mademoiselle de Pontchartrain's future husband.

But if I returned to Paris, what should I do there, tired as I was of bachelor life, and conscious of a craving to love, to attach myself to someone, and to detach myself from her whom I had loved so dearly?--No, I would marry, I would adore my wife if possible, and pray that she would prove my rock of salvation.

The result of these reflections was that I said one day in response to my sister's entreaties:

"Do whatever you choose."

Amelie asked no further questions; she threw her arms around me, kissed me, and, giving me no chance to add a single word, flew to Madame de Pontchartrain's to sue for Pelagie's hand for her brother. In half an hour she returned with the answer, which was favorable.

"She gives her to you!" she cried from the foot of the stairs; "she is yours; everything is agreed upon and settled; to-morrow I will attend to publishing the banns."

I considered that my sister had been a little too expeditious; it was impossible now to retract; the request had been made and granted, and I was bound!--What! I was going to marry Pelagie, whom I hardly knew? It seemed to me that it must all be a joke; I could not accustom myself to the idea of being Mademoiselle de Pontchartrain's husband.

x.x.x

AN INTERVIEW WITH MY INTENDED

After my marriage was decided upon, I received permission to go alone to Madame de Pontchartrain's to pay court to Pelagie in her aunt's presence. In the evening, I sometimes escorted the ladies into society and took them home. It was not infinitely entertaining to me. I began to be weary of all that etiquette and ceremony, of all those provincial puerilities; but I determined that, when I was once married, I would go back to Paris and teach my wife another way to live.

Despite all the efforts my sister made to hasten what she called the instant of my happiness, I could not become Pelagie's husband in less than a month; and in that time I hoped to become better acquainted with my promised bride. To be sure, I saw her every evening; but it was always in company, playing parlor games, where everybody's eyes were fastened on us, trying to divine what two people who are to be married say to each other. Poor dears! in vain did you p.r.i.c.k up your ears and stretch your necks, trying to catch our lightest words; you could not possibly hear anything to enlighten you upon that subject, because Mademoiselle Pelagie and I had never spoken of it.

It may seem surprising that a promised husband had not spoken of love and marriage to her to whom his troth was plighted; but I confess that I did not care to admit everybody to the secret of my thoughts, and in company it would have been very hard for me to say anything to Pelagie which would not be overheard by all the ears that were constantly on the alert about us. Moreover, how can one discuss an interesting subject while playing _La Sellette_ or _Monsieur le Cure_? I hoped to be less constrained with her in the morning, but the aunt was always there; often, too, some acquaintance came to make a call. I could not see Pelagie alone for an instant; it was impossible to carry on a connected conversation with her, and I began to be impatient. It seemed to me very natural to make the acquaintance of one's wife before marriage; I felt sorely tempted to consign to the Evil One all that provincial etiquette which was so utterly devoid of sense. I decided to apply to my sister to obtain for me an interview with my intended.

"Amelie, I should be very glad to have a little conversation with Pelagie."

"Well, what prevents you, my dear? don't you see her every morning and evening, if you choose?"

"Yes, to be sure, I see her in the morning, but always in the presence of her aunt and three or four old mummies who would deprive the most impa.s.sioned lover of all desire to make love. Besides, Pelagie is very shy; how can you expect her to describe her sentiments before people?"

"Why, my dear, you ought to divine them easily enough from the hints she lets fall."

"My dear girl, at the point we have reached I cannot be content with hints; I want something positive; in short, I want to know what sort of a person I have to do with."

"But you are allowed to talk freely enough, I should think."