The Milkmaid of Montfermeil Part 43

"You are right, Bertrand; sometimes I have no common sense. Let us say no more about Denise. I will go to see her when she's married; but until then I don't propose to go to Montfermeil again; the girl is too enticing."

"Bravo! that is acting like an honorable man, lieutenant."

Auguste started for his notary's; as he went downstairs he met Madame Saint-Edmond for the first time since the adventure at the Tournebride.

At sight of Auguste, Leonie stopped, leaned against the wall, turned her head away, drew her handkerchief, and omitted nothing calculated to give the impression that she was about to faint; but Auguste, paying no heed to his neighbor's expressive pantomime, contented himself with a low bow, and pa.s.sed without stopping.

The notary handed Dalville the funds which he had in his hands belonging to him. Auguste put two hundred and fifty thousand francs in his wallet, and left the balance with Bertrand, urging him to be less economical in his expenditure, because, as their fortune was about to be doubled, he did not see why they should deny themselves anything. The next afternoon, at five, Auguste took his wallet and went to Destival's house, bidding Bertrand enjoy himself while he was away. To obey his master, the ex-corporal went in search of his friend Schtrack, with whom he proposed to take a short promenade.

The business agent had taken larger apartments than those he formerly occupied. He had mounted his household with more splendor, and although he could not as yet rival Monsieur de la Thoma.s.siniere in magnificence, it was plain that he was doing all that he could to approach him. As a general rule, however, the pains that one takes to deceive the eyes do not have the hoped-for result, and serve only to arouse mockery. One rarely succeeds in art by departing from one's specialty; and in the world he who tries to make himself out what he is not, is a laughing-stock. In vain does the grisette, beneath her big bonnet, strive to copy the simpers of a lady in society; in vain does the tailor's apprentice, newly-clad from head to foot, believe that, because he is dressed in the latest fashion, he has the air and aspect of a stockbroker. The natural characteristics always show through; one may impose on the mult.i.tude, and amid the mult.i.tude pa.s.s for what one is not; but at the slightest examination,

"The mask falls, the man remains, The hero vanishes."

Thus we find in the world a great many people who would be most estimable and would not arouse criticism, if they did not try to do more than they are able to do. An under clerk, with a salary of a hundred louis, must needs give evening parties, b.a.l.l.s; the house is turned topsy-turvy; beds are taken down to make more room, a piano is hired, and lamps of all kinds; decanters of syrups are prepared, and punch, and there is a supper. But, despite all the trouble he has taken, the company, much too numerous for the tiny apartments, cannot find room.

There are not enough chairs; the paper behind the beds is of a different color and betrays the moving in the morning; the piano is out of tune; the refreshments, bought all made, are not sweet enough, because the sugar has been used sparingly in order to make another decanter of syrup; the lamps refuse to burn, because the host is not familiar with them; the punch is compounded of poor brandy, because they bought the cheapest brand; and at supper you will find nothing but stale bread to eat with the fowl that is handed you. People love to criticise; you laugh quietly at everything that is bad, entirely oblivious to what is all right. Now, is it not much better to give, instead of this, an unpretentious party, to have fewer guests, and to leave the bed in place; to have one less cold joint, and to serve fresh bread; in short, to put aside the ambition to have a grand reception, and aim at nothing more than getting a few friends together?

At Monsieur Destival's the beds were not taken down because they had a salon large enough to hold a numerous company; the lamps burned well, because they were frequently used; and the punch was good, because Madame Destival knew nothing of that false economy by virtue of which nothing is ever done well. But Domingo, stationed in the reception room to announce the guests, and Baptiste, who ran constantly from one room to another to execute his masters's orders, and who commented aloud on everything that he was told to do, produced an irresistibly comical effect, largely because Destival was incessantly calling one or the other of them by the epithets of "knave" and "rascal."

When Dalville arrived he found several persons in the salon; he recognized Monsieur Monin and his better half, the latter of whom did not wear a shepherdess's hat on this occasion, but a huge turban beneath which her fat face strikingly resembled a Turk's. Auguste had hardly entered the salon when Monin inquired concerning the state of his health. Madame Destival accorded him a most gracious welcome, and her reproaches for the infrequency of his visits were uttered in such an amiable tone that they could not fail to make him regret that he had earned them.

Before Auguste had looked at the other guests, Monsieur Destival entered the salon, and at sight of Dalville uttered a joyful cry as if he had thought him dead; then he ran to him and grasped his hands, saying:

"Here is our dear friend; it is really he! he has not failed us! How kind of him! You see, it is a great favor to have him here! He has so many acquaintances, so many invitations! he can hardly keep track of them all.--Have you thought about our little investment?" he added in an undertone.

"I have the money with me," said Auguste.

"In that case, let us step into my study and fix it up before dinner, so that we need think of nothing but enjoying ourselves."

"Very well."

"A million pardons, mesdames, for taking our dear Dalville away from you; I promise to restore him to you in five minutes; otherwise I imagine that you would hate me mortally."

As he spoke, Destival led Auguste into his study, where the younger man produced his wallet. Having counted the notes, the business agent locked them up in his desk and gave Auguste a receipt for the amount, which Auguste put in his pocket.

"That's all right," he said; "I will examine this when I am at home."

Then the gentlemen returned to the salon, Dalville eager to make the acquaintance of two or three attractive women of whom he had caught a glimpse, and Destival as radiant as if he had just discovered a diamond mine.

The company was increased by several persons among whom Auguste noticed three sisters, young and pretty, whose manners and speech and smiles, however, were never free from affectation; a very merry and talkative young woman, ready to joke with everybody, but especially with the gentlemen; a silly little creature of sixteen, very shy and awkward, who dared not leave her mamma's chair or look at the persons to whom she spoke. A tall man with spectacles, who ran his nose against the paintings, engravings, screens and decanters, persisted in handling and examining everything, shaking his head and emitting an occasional _hum!

hum!_ doubtless fraught with meaning; while a short man, embarra.s.sed by his huge paunch, his short arms, and his small head, not knowing what to do with himself, stood first on one leg, then on the other, played with his watch chain, stuck out his tongue when anybody looked at him, and scratched his nose when n.o.body was looking.

Generally speaking, the female portion of the company seemed more select than the male portion; but a business agent has to do with all cla.s.ses, and it frequently happens that it is not the most fashionably dressed men through whom the most money is to be made.

Monin remained almost all the time behind his wife's chair, leaving his station only to inquire for somebody's health; and, when he had put his question to some new arrival, he would return with a smile on his face, open his snuff-box, and offer it to _Bichette_, who, despite her turban, emulated her husband in the size of her pinch.

The clock struck six, and Domingo came writhing into the room, and said in a jargon composed of all known languages:

"Master, soup served."

And Monin, who had not noticed the negro in the reception room, and who supposed that he was a trader from the coast of Guinea, who was invited to dinner, was about to leave his wife's chair to ask him how his health was, when Bichette, divining her husband's purpose, caught him by his coat, saying:

"Where on earth are you going, Monsieur Monin? Stay where you are! Don't you see that that's Monsieur Destival's negro?"

"What! is that a negro, Bichette?"

"Do you mean to say that you can't see it for yourself?"

"Yes, of course; but I'll tell you--I thought he was talking German.

'Soup served,' he said."

"Well, monsieur, is that German, I'd like to know? Still, when a person makes so much talk about having a negro, he ought to teach him to walk.

Do you suppose I'd have a groom that acted as if he had lead in his breeches? A sweet creature, their Domingo! He's some wretched savage who's been soaked in licorice juice to make a negro of him."

"Dinner is served, and Monsieur and Madame de la Thoma.s.siniere have not come!" said Madame Destival, snappishly.

"We are only waiting for them. They are terrible people--never on time!

It's after six."

"Six ten," said the tall man in spectacles. "I am always with the sun; hum! hum!"

"Six seven," said Monin, consulting his watch.

"You are slow, monsieur; hum! hum!"

"My husband sets his watch every day by the cannon at the Palais-Royal,"

said Madame Monin, with a disdainful glance at the spectacled man; while the little man with short arms stood thrice on his right leg and twice on his left, in his struggles to draw his watch from his fob; and, having finally succeeded in producing a silver time-piece, to which a gold chain was attached, he gazed a long time at the dial and said:

"Yes, it must be about that."

"Faith," said Destival, "if La Thoma.s.siniere weren't going to bring his wife, we wouldn't wait any longer, for it's ridiculous to keep a whole large party waiting like this; but a pretty woman always has some additional touch to give her costume, and we must always forgive the Graces.--Domingo, see that the entrees are kept warm. Baptiste, have the chafing dishes red hot. Come, you knaves, move a little more quickly when I give an order!"

Domingo did not move any more quickly, because the doeskin breeches made it impossible. Baptiste, always in ill humor, pushed the negro roughly, muttering:

"Well, you darkie! A pretty sort of a.s.sistant to give me! He can't do anything but break dishes and steal liquor! I wish he'd drink so much that he'd smash the whole crockery closet! That would teach 'em to give a brand new red jacket to that miserable black fellow, when they've made me wear the same shabby coat for three years."

The half hour struck and the guests' faces lengthened. Auguste talked with one of his neighbors, who said:

"Don't you think, monsieur, that it's absurd that one or two people should keep a whole party waiting, and that decent people should be at the mercy of a fellow who doesn't choose to be prompt? At my house, monsieur, we dine at a fixed hour; I never wait two minutes for the people I invite, and they are always prompt, I a.s.sure you, for they know we should dine without them."

Auguste agreed that his neighbor was right. Madame Destival lost patience; monsieur kept running to the dining-room and back, crying:

"Everything will be cold! The little pates won't be eatable! It's exceedingly unpleasant!"

"Yes," said the man with the spectacles, "warmed-over pastry is good for nothing, hum! hum! because it's good only when it's just out of the oven, hum!"

Monin seemed profoundly affected by what was said about the little pates, and the uneasy gentleman scratched his nose with a piteous expression. At last, about seven o'clock, there was a violent ring and Monsieur and Madame de la Thoma.s.siniere soon entered the salon.

Athalie was resplendent; her costume was magnificent; her neck and arms were covered with diamonds and their dazzling reflection was in perfect harmony with the piquant expression of her features. At sight of her, the men uttered involuntary murmurs of admiration; the women said nothing, but scrutinized her costume, even to the tiniest details, and their eyes were unable to dissemble a gleam of jealousy, because everything was unexceptionable and there was nothing to criticise. Now criticism is a source of the greatest pleasure in society, where people do not spare even their friends! Fancy what they say of others!