Other People's Money Part 6

Gilberte Favoral had just completed her eighteenth year. Rather tall, slender, her every motion betrayed the admirable proportions of her figure, and had that grace which results from the harmonious blending of litheness and strength. She did not strike at first sight; but soon a penetrating and indefinable charm arose from her whole person; and one knew not which to admire most,-the exquisite perfections of her figure, the divine roundness of her neck, her aerial carriage, or the placid ingenuousness of her att.i.tudes. She could not be called beautiful, inasmuch as her features lacked regularity; but the extreme mobility of her countenance, upon which could be read all the emotions of her soul, had an irresistible seduction. Her large eyes, of velvety blue, had untold depths and an incredible intensity of expression; the imperceptible quiver of her rosy nostrils revealed an untamable pride; and the smile that played upon her lips told her immense contempt for every thing mean and small. But her real beauty was her hair,-of a blonde so luminous that it seemed powdered with diamond-dust; so thick and so long, that to be able to twist and confine it, she had to cut off heavy locks of it to the very root.

Alone, in the house, she did not tremble at her father's voice. The studied despotism which had subdued Mme. Favoral had revolted her, and her energy had become tempered under the same system of oppression which had unnerved Maxence.

Whilst her mother and her brother lied with that quiet impudence of the slave, whose sole weapon is duplicity, Gilberte preserved a sullen silence. And if complicity was imposed upon her by circ.u.mstances, if she had to maintain a falsehood, each word cost her such a painful effort, that her features became visibly altered.

Never, when her own interests were alone at stake, had she stooped to an untruth. Fearlessly, and whatever might be the result, "That is the fact," she would say.

Accordingly, M. Favoral could not help respecting her to a degree; and, when he was in fine humor, he called her the Empress Gilberte. For her alone he had some deference and some attentions. He moderated, when she looked at him, the brutality of his language. He brought her a few flowers every Sat.u.r.day.

He had even allowed her a professor of music; though he was wont to declare that a woman needs but two accomplishments,-to cook and to sew. But she had insisted so much, that he had at last discovered for her, in an attic of the Rue du Pas-de-la-Mule, an old Italian master, the Signor Gismondo Pulei, a sort of unknown genius, for whom thirty francs a month were a fortune, and who conceived a sort of religious fanaticism for his pupil.

Though he had always refused to write a note, he consented, for her sake, to fix the melodies that buzzed in his cracked brain; and some of them proved to be admirable. He dreamed to compose for her an opera that would transmit to the most remote generations the name of Gismondo Pulei.

"The Signora Gilberte is the very G.o.ddess of music," he said to M. Favoral, with transports of enthusiasm, which intensified still his frightful accent.

The cashier of the Mutual Credit Society shrugged his shoulders, answering that there is no harmony for a man who spends his days listening to the exciting music of golden coins. In spite of which his vanity seemed highly gratified, when on Sat.u.r.day evenings, after dinner, Mlle. Gilberte sat at the piano, and Mme. Desclavettes, suppressing a yawn, would exclaim, "What remarkable talent the dear child has!"

The young girl had, then, a positive influence; and it was to her entreaties alone, and not to those of his wife, that he had several times forgiven Maxence. He would have done much more for her, had she wished it; but she would have been compelled to ask, to insist, to beg.

"And it's humiliating," she used to say.

Sometimes Mme. Favoral scolded her gently, saying that her father would certainly not refuse her one of those pretty toilets which are the ambition and the joy of young girls.

But she: "It is much less mortification to me to wear these rags than to meet with a refusal," she replied. "I am satisfied with my dresses."

With such a character, surrounded, however, by a meek resignation, and an unalterable sang-froid, she inspired a certain respect to both her mother and her brother, who admired in her an energy of which they felt themselves incapable.

And when she appeared, and commenced reproaching him in an indignant tone of voice, with the baseness of his conduct, and his insatiate demands, Maxence was almost stunned.

"I did not know," he commenced, turning as red as fire.

She crushed him with a look of mingled contempt and pity; and, in an accent of haughty irony: "Indeed," she said, "you do not know whence the money comes that you extort from our mother!"

And holding up her hand, still remarkably handsome, though slightly deformed by the constant handling of the needle; the fourth finger of the right hand bent by the thread, and the fore-finger of the left tattooed and lacerated by the needle: "Indeed," she repeated, "you do not know that my mother and myself, we spend all our days, and the greater part of our nights, working?"

Hanging his head, he said nothing.

"If it were for myself alone," she continued, "I would not speak to you thus. But look at our mother! See her poor eyes, red and weak from her ceaseless labor! If I have said nothing until now, it is because I did not as yet despair of your heart; because I hoped that you would recover some feeling of decency. But no, nothing. With time, your last scruples seem to have vanished. Once you begged humbly; now you demand rudely. How soon will you resort to blows?"

"Gilberte!" stammered the poor fellow, "Gilberte!"

She interrupted him: "Money!" she went on, "always, and without time, you must have money; no matter whence it comes, nor what it costs. If, at least, you had to justify your expenses, the excuse of some great pa.s.sion, or of some object, were it absurd, ardently pursued! But I defy you to confess upon what degrading pleasures you lavish our humble economies. I defy you to tell us what you mean to do with the sum that you demand to-night,-that sum for which you would have our mother stoop to beg the a.s.sistance of a shop-keeper, to whom we would be compelled to reveal the secret of our shame."

Touched by the frightful humiliation of her son: "He is so unhappy!" stammered Mme. Favoral.

"He unhappy!" she exclaimed. "What, then, shall we say of us? and, above all, what shall you say of yourself, mother? Unhappy!-he, a man, who has liberty and strength, who may undertake every thing, attempt any thing, dare any thing. Ah, I wish I were a man! I! I would be a man as there are some, as I know some; and I would have avenged you, O beloved mother! long, long ago, from father; and I would have begun to repay you all the good you have done me."

Mme. Favoral was sobbing.

"I beg of you," she murmured, "spare him."

"Be it so," said the young girl. "But you must allow me to tell him that it is not for his sake that I devote my youth to a mercenary labor. It is for you, adored mother, that you may have the joy to give him what he asks, since it is your only joy."

Maxence shuddered under the breath of that superb indignation. That frightful humiliation, he felt that he deserved it only too much. He understood the justice of these cruel reproaches. And, as his heart had not yet spoiled with the contact of his boon companions, as he was weak, rather than wicked, as the sentiments which are the honor and pride of a man were not dead within him.

"Ah! you are a brave sister, Gilberte," he exclaimed; "and what you have just done is well. You have been harsh, but not as much as I deserve. Thanks for your courage, which will give me back mine. Yes, it is a shame for me to have thus cowardly abused you both."

And, raising his mother's hand to his lips: "Forgive, mother," he continued, his eyes overflowing with tears; "forgive him who swears to you to redeem his past, and to become your support, instead of being a crushing burden-"

He was interrupted by the noise of steps on the stairs, and the shrill sound of a whistle.

"My husband!" exclaimed Mme. Favoral,-"your father, my children!"

"Well," said Mlle. Gilberte coldly.

"Don't you hear that he is whistling? and do you forget that it is a proof that he is furious? What new trial threatens us again?"

XIII

Mme. Favoral spoke from experience. She had learned, to her cost, that the whistle of her husband, more surely than the shriek of the stormy petrel, announces the storm.-And she had that evening more reasons than usual to fear. Breaking from all his habits, M. Favoral had not come home to dinner, and had sent one of the clerks of the Mutual Credit Society to say that they should not wait for him.

Soon his latch-key grated in the lock; the door swung open; he came in; and, seeing his son: "Well, I am glad to find you here," he exclaimed with a giggle, which with him was the utmost expression of anger.

Mme. Favoral shuddered. Still under the impression of the scene which had just taken place, his heart heavy, and his eyes full of tears, Maxence did not answer.

"It is doubtless a wager," resumed the father, "and you wish to know how far my patience may go."

"I do not understand you," stammered the young man.

"The money that you used to get, I know not where, doubtless fails you now, or at least is no longer sufficient, and you go on making debts right and left-at the tailor's, the shirt maker's, the jeweler's. Of course, it's simple enough. We earn nothing; but we wish to dress in the latest style, to wear a gold chain across our vest, and then we make dupes."

"I have never made any dupes, father."

"Bah! And what, then, do you call all these people who came this very day to present me their bills? For they did dare to come to my office! They had agreed to come together, expecting thus to intimidate me more easily. I told them that you were of age, and that your business was none of mine. Hearing this, they became insolent, and commenced speaking so loud, that their voices could be heard in the adjoining rooms. At that very moment, the manager, M. de Thaller, happened to be pa.s.sing through the hall. Hearing the noise of a discussion, he thought that I was having some difficulty with some of our stockholders, and he came in, as he had a right to. Then I was compelled to confess everything."

He became excited at the sound of his words, like a horse at the jingle of his bells. And, more and more beside himself: "That is just what your creditors wished," he pursued. "They thought I would be afraid of a row, and that I would 'come down.' It is a system of blackmailing, like any other. An account is opened to some young rascal; and, when the amount is reasonably large, they take it to the family, saying, 'Money, or I make row.' Do you think it is to you, who are penniless, that they give credit? It's on my pocket that they were drawing,-on my pocket, because they believed me rich. They sold you at exorbitant prices every thing they wished; and they relied on me to pay for trousers at ninety francs, shirts at forty francs, and watches at six hundred francs."

Contrary to his habit, Maxence did not offer any denial.

"I expect to pay all I owe," he said.

"You!"

"I give my word I will!"

"And with what, pray?"

"With my salary."

"You have a salary, then?"

Maxence blushed.

"I have what I earn at my employer's."

"What employer?"

"The architect in whose office M. Chapelain helped me to find a place."

With a threatening gesture, M. Favoral interrupted him.

"Spare me your lies," he uttered. "I am better posted than you suppose. I know, that, over a month ago, your employer, tired of your idleness, dismissed you in disgrace."

Disgrace was superfluous. The fact was, that Maxence, returning to work after an absence of five days, had found another in his place.

"I shall find another place," he said.

M. Favoral shrugged his shoulders with a movement of rage.

"And in the mean time," he said, "I shall have to pay. Do you know what your creditors threaten to do?-to commence a suit against me. They would lose it, of course, they know it; but they hope that I would yield before a scandal. And this is not all: they talk of entering a criminal complaint. They pretend that you have audaciously swindled them; that the articles you purchased of them were not at all for your own use, but that you sold them as fast as you got them, at any price you could obtain, to raise ready money. The jeweler has proofs, he says, that you went straight from his shop to the p.a.w.nbroker's, and pledged a watch and chain which he had just sold you. It is a police matter. They said all that in presence of my superior officer-in presence of M. de Thaller. I had to get the janitor to put them out. But, after they had left, M. de Thaller gave me to understand that he wished me very much to settle everything. And he is right. My consideration could not resist another such scene. What confidence can be placed in a cashier whose son behaves in this manner? How can a key of a safe containing millions be left with a man whose son would have been dragged into the police-courts? In a word, I am at your mercy. In a word, my honor, my position, my fortune, rest upon you. As often as it may please you to make debts, you can make them, and I shall be compelled to pay."

Gathering all his courage: "You have been sometimes very harsh with me, father," commenced Maxence; "and yet I will not try to justify my conduct. I swear to you, that hereafter you shall have nothing to fear from me."

"I fear nothing," uttered M. Favoral with a sinister smile. "I know the means of placing myself beyond the reach of your follies -and I shall use them."

"I a.s.sure you, father, that I have taken a firm resolution."

"Oh! you may dispense with your periodical repentance."

Mlle. Gilberte stepped forward.

"I'll stand warrant," she said, "for Maxence's resolutions."

Her father did not permit her to proceed.

"Enough," he interrupted somewhat harshly. "Mind your own business, Gilberte! I have to speak to you too."

"To me, father?"

"Yes."

He walked up and down three or four times through the parlor, as if to calm his irritation. Then planting himself straight before his daughter, his arms folded across his breast: "You are eighteen years of age," he said; "that is to say, it is time to think of your marriage. An excellent match offers itself."

She shuddered, stepped back, and, redder than a peony: "A match!" she repeated in a tone of immense surprise.

"Yes, and which suits me."

"But I do not wish to marry, father."

"All young girls say the same thing; and, as soon as a pretender offers himself, they are delighted. Mine is a fellow of twenty-six, quite good looking, amiable, witty, and who has had the greatest success in society."

"Father, I a.s.sure you that I do not wish to leave mother."

"Of course not. He is an intelligent, hard-working man, destined, everybody says, to make an immense fortune. Although he is rich already, for he holds a controlling interest in a stock-broker's firm, he works as hard as any poor devil. I would not be surprised to hear that he makes half a million of francs a year. His wife will have her carriage, her box at the opera, diamonds, and dresses as handsome as Mlle. de Thaller's."

"Eh! What do I care for such things?"

"It's understood. I'll present him to you on Sat.u.r.day."

But Mlle. Gilberte was not one of those young girls who allow themselves, through weakness or timidity, to become engaged, and so far engaged, that later, they can no longer withdraw. A discussion being unavoidable, she preferred to have it out at once.

"A presentation is absolutely useless, father," she declared resolutely.

"Because?"

"I have told you that I did not wish to marry."

"But if it is my will?"

"I am ready to obey you in every thing except that."

"In that as in every thing else," interrupted the cashier of the Mutual Credit in a thundering voice.

And, casting upon his wife and children a glance full of defiance and threats: "In that, as in every thing else," he repeated, "because I am the master; and I shall prove it. Yes, I will prove it; for I am tired to see my family leagued against my authority."

And out he went, slamming the door so violently, that the part.i.tions shook.

"You are wrong to resist your father thus," murmured the weak Mme. Favoral.

The fact is, that the poor woman could not understand why her daughter refused the only means at her command to break off with her miserable existence.

"Let him present you this young man," she said. "You might like him."

"I am sure I shall not like him."

She said this in such a tone, that the light suddenly flashed upon Mme. Favoral's mind.

"Heavens!" she murmured. "Gilberte, my darling child, have you then a secret which your mother does not know?"

XIV

Yes, Mlle. Gilberte had her secret-a very simple one, though, chaste, like herself, and one of those which, as the old women say, must cause the angels to rejoice.

The spring of that year having been unusually mild, Mme. Favoral and her daughter had taken the habit of going daily to breathe the fresh air in the Place Royale. They took their work with them, crotchet or knitting; so that this salutary exercise did not in any way diminish the earnings of the week. It was during these walks that Mlle. Gilberte had at last noticed a young man, unknown to her, whom she met every day at the same place.