The Milkmaid of Montfermeil Part 17

"I don't know it, but I was just going to tell you, I'm betting on it."

"Ah! you're betting, are you? Well, I trust that you are modest at least, and don't play for big stakes?"

"Oh, no! never fear, Bichette!"

"You have lost your forty sous, Monsieur Monin!" exclaimed Destival at that moment, heaving a deep sigh.

"Forty sous!" shouted Madame Monin, jumping from her chair with a violence that made all the furniture in the room tremble; "what's that?

Monsieur Monin betting forty sous! Why, that is horrible! For heaven's sake, neighbor, what did you give him to drink at dinner?--What is the meaning of such extravagance, Monsieur Monin? Have you gone crazy?"

"No, Bichette, it's a mistake; I a.s.sure you that I didn't bet but two sous."

"You put forty sous on the table, monsieur," said La Thoma.s.siniere, "and they're lost."

"I had won a lot, you see," whispered Monin to his wife; "that was just my winnings."

"You must admit that I am playing in hard luck," said Destival; "that makes seven times that I have been responsible for Monin's losing."

"Seven times, monsieur! have you bet seven times in succession?" cried Madame Monin, glaring at her husband with the expression of a cat about to pounce upon a mouse.

"Why, no, Bichette; you know perfectly well that I am incapable of such a thing!"

"Here's the duet from _Armide_," said Madame Destival; "come, Monsieur Dalville, sing it with madame."

"I don't know it," said Auguste.

"Nonsense! you are enough of a musician to sing it at sight."

"I'll prompt you in your pa.s.sages, monsieur," said Madame Monin, removing her hat lest it should interfere with her voice.

Madame Monin began. Her voice was almost enough to set one's teeth on edge. Monin applauded every measure. Suddenly a chord broke. The vivacious Athalie ran her fingers over the keys and seemed excited by the fire with which she was playing. Soon a second chord broke, then a third, and it was impossible to go on. Athalie left her seat, saying:

"What a pity! it was going so well!"

"That's the disadvantage of your pianos," said Madame Monin testily, as she put on her shepherdess's hat; "Monsieur Monin's little flute's the thing; there's no danger of that ever breaking, at all events."

"Do you want me to go and get it, Bichette?"

"Upon my word, this is a pretty time of night to make such a suggestion!

We must go home to bed, monsieur; that will be much better than your little flute."

Destival left the card-table, red as a turkey-c.o.c.k.

"I can't stand it any longer!" he cried. "That makes twelve times that he has pa.s.sed! I've lost at least forty francs!"

"Oh! how can anyone risk so much money?" said Madame Monin. "If you should ever lose forty francs, Monsieur Monin, I'd have a separation at once."

"Here's a fine to-do over a trifle!" said La Thoma.s.siniere, rising from his chair; "I'll stake it on a single hand to-morrow, at a notary's, who's a friend of mine. That's where they play ecarte! The table is covered with gold and bank-notes! Ah! there's some fun in that! But otherwise ecarte's a very stupid game.--Well! are we going to bed?"

"Go to bed, monsieur, who's preventing you?" said Athalie; "we don't need you."

"Faith, I am terribly sleepy."

"Baptiste will show you to your room, which is over this."

"And where is mine, my dear, if you please?" queried the pet.i.te-maitresse, as her husband went up to bed without bidding anyone good-night, because it was bad form.

"Yours, my dear?" rejoined Madame Destival; "why, with your husband; we have only one room to offer you."

"What! can it be by any chance that you are going to make me sleep with him?"

"Why, of course."

"Oh! that is absurd! Such a thing never occurred to me. I never sleep with Monsieur de la Thoma.s.siniere. I have my own suite, as you know."

"For once, belle dame," said Destival, with a sly expression, "our dear husband will not complain."

"Mon Dieu! how amusing!" exclaimed Athalie, sulkily. Meanwhile, Madame Monin, who had succeeded at last in tucking up her dress and putting on her shawl, said to Madame Destival with a simper:

"For my part, I sleep with my husband, and I should just like to hear him mention a separate room! Ha! ha!"

"You know perfectly well, Bichette, that I have no desire to----"

"All right, Monsieur Monin, I know what I know.--Good-night, neighbors.--Well, monsieur, why don't you put on your cap? What sort of way is that to act?"

Monin was afraid that his wife would discover the hole in his cap. He finally decided to wear it over his left ear, so that the top would be less visible to the eyes of his better half. And Madame Monin led her spouse away, promising him that she would never again let him dine out without her, because he was not careful of himself at the table, and wine made him plunge into all sorts of extravagance.

When his neighbors had gone, Monsieur Destival admitted that the drilling had fatigued him terribly, and he speedily vanished.

The music had cemented the intimacy between Dalville and the brilliant Athalie. With those who are capable of enjoying the charms of harmony, there is nothing that brings two hearts together so quickly as a sweet or tender ditty, or a pa.s.sage overladen with pa.s.sion, which the performers often address to each other. Music is a very potent auxiliary in love; it stirs the emotions, it speaks to the soul. Thank heaven, almost all our ladies know how to play the piano now.

But Athalie rose, and Madame Destival escorted her to her apartment.

Before going in, the pet.i.te-maitresse laughingly said to her friend:

"My dear, I must tell you something in confidence: I believe I've made a conquest of Monsieur Dalville."

"Do you think so?"

"I am almost sure of it; he has been talking to me in that veiled way,--you know what I mean; and then he squeezed my hand very tenderly."

"I congratulate you!"

"Oh! you understand that I mean to have a little sport with him, that's all."

"But I must tell you frankly that the conquest is of little value, for he is a man who falls in love with every woman he sees.--Adieu, my dear, good-night."

"Until to-morrow, my love! I shall get up early for a walk in the fields."

"I will go with you, my dear."