The Milkmaid of Montfermeil - novelonlinefull.com
You’re read light novel The Milkmaid of Montfermeil Part 13 online at NovelOnlineFull.com. Please use the follow button to get notification about the latest chapter next time when you visit NovelOnlineFull.com. Use F11 button to read novel in full-screen(PC only). Drop by anytime you want to read free – fast – latest novel. It’s great if you could leave a comment, share your opinion about the new chapters, new novel with others on the internet. We’ll do our best to bring you the finest, latest novel everyday. Enjoy
"I can't tell you--unless they've gone to drill too."
Athalie went toward the house. Destival was still with Bertrand on the terrace. The young woman entered the salon; it was empty.
"This is very polite," said Athalie; "a perfect gentleman that! It seems that there is no standing on ceremony here. I would like right well to know if Monsieur Dalville is with Madame Destival. She had a sick-headache; I am curious to know how she gets rid of it."
The young woman left the salon and pa.s.sed through several rooms without meeting anybody, for Julie and Baptiste were busy in the kitchen, and Monsieur de la Thoma.s.siniere's three servants had gone to the village to play goose. She went up to the first floor, where Madame Destival's bedroom was; but the door was closed and locked.
"She is in her room," thought the pet.i.te-maitresse; and she knocked gently. There was no reply; she knocked louder. At last Madame Destival asked who was there.
"I, my dear," Athalie replied. "I came up to have a chat with you."
"Excuse me, I had dropped asleep; my headache is so much worse----"
"I have one too, and I will lie down in your room a moment; it will do me good."
"Hasn't Julie shown you your room?"
"No, my love; let me in, pray."
Madame de la Thoma.s.siniere was determined not to go away, and after some little time she was admitted. Madame Destival appeared with her clothes no more disarranged than was natural in a person who had been lying down. As she went in, Athalie glanced about the room, and her eyes longed to pierce the walls of a small closet at the foot of the bed, the mirrored door of which was tightly closed.
"Oh dear! how my head jumps!" said Madame Destival, putting her hand to her forehead.
"Isn't it any better?" asked Athalie, seating herself on a couch.
"No; quite the contrary."
"Lie down again, my dear; I will stretch myself out on this couch; I shall not be sorry for a little rest myself. This hot sun affects my nerves."
Madame Destival seemed disinclined to return to her bed; she walked about the room impatiently, and said:
"Oh, no! I don't want to go to sleep again, it's almost dinner-time."
"How on earth did you ever succeed in sleeping here? Your husband makes such a noise with his 'present arms,' and his 'ready, aim!'"
"It didn't disturb me at all."
"What did you do with Monsieur Dalville?"
"What did I do with him? Why, nothing."
"I thought he was with you."
"With me?"
"When you left me in the swing, didn't you take him away with you, and leave in his place the charming Monsieur Monin, whose society is so entertaining?"
"Monsieur Auguste left me immediately; he must have gone for a walk to the village."
"Do you know, my dear, that I should not have recognized Monsieur Dalville from the picture that you drew of him. In the first place, you said that he wasn't good-looking, that he had a common look."
"I did not say common, I swear."
"That he hadn't good style, that he was a rake, a ne'er-do-well, a man whose visits might compromise a woman."
"Oh! you exaggerate, my dear!"
"I beg your pardon, but you said all that, you drew a shocking portrait of him! For my part, I think him very good-looking, and I like his manners very much."
"That is very fortunate for him, madame."
"Well! what on earth are you doing? You are putting on your belt inside out."
"Why, so I am! I have fits of absent-mindedness."
"Shall I fasten your dress for you, my dear?"
"Thanks; I can dress myself."
At that moment the sound of something being placed against the window made Emilie jump.
"What is that?" she said.
"It was in that closet, I think; something fell."
"No, madame, the noise didn't come from the closet; it was at the window."
The ladies went to the window and saw Monsieur Destival, who had just placed a ladder against the outer sill.
"What in the world are you doing, monsieur?" exclaimed Madame Destival in alarm; "what is the meaning of this ladder and all this confusion?"
"My dear love, I know now all the evolutions there are; the only thing left for me to learn is to storm a fort; that's the bouquet, so Bertrand says, and he's going to show me how. You, mesdames, are inside the fortress, you represent the enemy; you must try to keep us out, but we will enter the citadel in spite of you."
"What is the meaning of this absurd nonsense, monsieur?"
"It's the bouquet, madame, I tell you.--Come, Bertrand; one! two! At the double-quick, isn't it?"
"I am not willing that you should storm my room, monsieur.--Take away that ladder, Bertrand, I beg you.--You are mad, monsieur! Do you have to storm a fort to catch a wolf?"
"n.o.body knows what may happen, madame."
"I know that you won't happen to reach my room, monsieur."
As she said this, Madame Destival closed her window with a bang, and led Madame de la Thoma.s.siniere from her room, saying:
"Let's go down, my dear, let's go down, I beg you, for they'll turn everything topsy-turvy with their drilling."
They went out on the terrace, where Monsieur Destival still held his ladder, which Bertrand tried in vain to take away from him. The business agent was determined to raise it somewhere.