The Milkmaid of Montfermeil Part 50

"Come, my dear, let's go," she said; "we must go back to the village."

"Ain't my kind friend coming with us?" said Coco, as he took Denise's hand.

"Oh, no! he hasn't even time to speak to us. Come, Coco, let's go. We must be at the stage office at four."

"I'll show you the way, my dear," said Virginie; "you might lose yourself in Paris."

"I was going to offer you my arm, mamzelle," said Bertrand.

"No, thanks, Monsieur Bertrand, don't put yourself out; it isn't necessary."

"Why not, Mamzelle Denise?"

"We'll find the way all right. As for Monsieur Auguste, tell him we won't trouble him any more."

"You're wrong to be put out with him, Mamzelle Denise; if somebody hadn't been waiting for him----"

"Yes, to be sure," said Virginie, "it was very polite of him: to not so much as thank this pretty child for her present! magnificent chickens, fine pears, and fresh eggs! Fresh eggs are so good! Will you allow me to put three in my bag for my breakfast to-morrow?"

"As many as you please, madame," said Denise; "for I see very clearly that Monsieur Auguste cares very little indeed for what we took so much pleasure in bringing him."

"I tell you, my dear, that men ain't worth a pirouette," said Virginie, putting four eggs into her reticule; then she followed Denise, who left the room with the child, refusing Bertrand's escort.

Madame Saint-Edmond was coming upstairs with a young man at the moment that Denise, with a heavy heart and red eyes, left Dalville's apartment, leading Coco by the hand. Leonie was furiously angry with Auguste since he had left her in a swoon on the landing, to go in search of Bertrand.

Having abandoned the hope of renewing her relations with him, she seized every opportunity to annoy him. That is the way in which a woman who has never loved always takes her revenge.

When she saw the peasant girl coming from Dalville's apartment, Madame Saint-Edmond stopped, looked at her with a sneer, and said to her companion:

"Ah! rather a queer rig; but she has come here to be educated, no doubt."

"What's that, what does she say?" cried Virginie, who was following Denise, and had overheard Leonie's last words; but the latter hurried upstairs.

"I don't know," said Denise; "I never saw the lady before, so she couldn't have been speaking to me."

"Oh! I know her," said Virginie, running up a few stairs and looking after Leonie. "Oh, yes! I know her. I don't advise her to put on airs.

_We won't go to the forest again without paying for our dinner._"

But Madame Saint-Edmond had already entered her room and closed her door. Virginie left the house with Denise, to whom she had taken a fancy; and she fairly forced her to take her arm for the walk to the stage office.

Denise was depressed and replied briefly to the innumerable questions which Virginie asked her; but she was perfectly well able to carry on a conversation all alone. When they arrived at the office, the stage was ready to start. Virginie kissed Denise and said to her:

"Adieu, my dear! Don't be downcast like this. You're very lucky to live in the country; it's a thousand times better than this rascally Paris!

You'll find more lovers in your village than you want. I say! is that the stage? It's a regular little chamber-pot like the one that goes to Saint-Denis. When I have time, I'll come and see you, and you must teach me how to make b.u.t.ter. Adieu, my dear girl.--Be careful, driver, and don't get upset; remember that you have a Love in your little pot."

Denise and Coco started for home less cheerful than when they set out.

The event often falsifies our hopes, and we find pain where we had thought to find pleasure.

XIV

THE SCHOOL FOR PARVENUS

"Poor Denise was very downhearted when she went away," said Bertrand to Auguste on the day following the girl's trip to Paris.

"I was very sorry indeed not to be able to talk with her any longer,"

Dalville replied; "but it wasn't my fault--that lady was waiting for me."

"That lady! That lady might perhaps have waited a few minutes more."

"Bertrand!"

"Excuse me, lieutenant; the fact is, I was really distressed to see you hardly speak to that girl, at whose home we were treated so hospitably.

Just remember the welcome they gave us, and how delighted they were to see you!"

"Oh! I haven't forgotten it."

"You didn't even thank her for her present!"

"I didn't see it. But we will go to the village soon, and I will make up for my neglect. I am to dine at Madame de la Thoma.s.siniere's to-day, Bertrand; there will be a lot of people, and a large party in the evening. Probably I shall not come home until morning. By the way, make a memorandum to the effect that I have lent a hundred louis to Monsieur le Marquis de Cligneval, who was very unlucky at cards a day or two ago, at a house where I happened to be; he is to pay me very soon."

Bertrand did not reply; but as he went to the cash-box he muttered:

"More money that we shall never see again! He's forever lending, and no one ever pays him back!"

Monsieur de la Thoma.s.siniere, whose fortune increased every day, determined to celebrate his wife's birthday by a grand demonstration.

The invitations had been issued a week in advance. There was every indication that the banquet would be the most sumptuous that the speculator had ever given. He expected to have at his table marquises and chevaliers who deigned to call him their friend; poets who had promised to mention him in their works; and some old acquaintances whom he expected to overcome by the magnificence of the festivity. Monsieur and Madame Destival were in the last category.

Everybody was in motion in Monsieur de la Thoma.s.siniere's palatial mansion. The upholsterers had decorated the salons, prepared the chandeliers and candelabra. The servants flew hither and thither carrying orders; the scullions obeyed the behests of their commander.

Three women were in attendance on madame, who had been at her toilet since three o'clock, and it was now five. But Athalie was fickle in her tastes: the thing that pleased her one day displeased her the next day; she had already cast aside two caps, in which she declared that she was hideously ugly; she lost her patience, raged, stamped, tore a superb piece of tulle, pulled a bouquet to pieces, scolded her women, and was on the verge of hysteria because they brought her a set of blue jewelry when she wanted violet. At last they succeeded in pacifying her by a.s.suring her that her hair was arranged to perfection; she deigned to look at herself in the mirror, scowled at first, then smiled, and said at last:

"It is true; I look rather well."

At half-past five the guests began to arrive. Monsieur de la Thoma.s.siniere, who was a little less insolent in his own house than in other people's houses, went to meet the t.i.tled personages who had condescended to do him the honor of accepting his dinner, and deigned to bestow a smile upon those whom he had honored with an invitation.

Monsieur and Madame Destival arrived in due course. Since he had had a negro, the business agent had adopted the habit of blinking, and pretended to be very short-sighted. His wife was attired with an elegance that rivalled Athalie's own; and her intelligent eyes seemed to a.s.sume an even more malicious expression as they rested on the master and mistress of the house.

All the guests appeared at last, Auguste among them. It was a brilliant a.s.semblage: women of fashion, dandies, men with decorations, filled the salon, where Athalie did the honors, apportioning her courtesies to the rank or wealth of their recipients. Monsieur de la Thoma.s.siniere stalked proudly through the rooms, saying:

"This affair will make a great sensation! The marquis has promised to mention it at court; there's a poet here, who's a newspaper man too, and he tells me that my name will appear in an article of at least a column!

My name in an article a column long! The deuce! how popular I shall be!

When Destival can give a dinner like mine, I'll agree that he can call himself somebody. Poor creatures! they are dying of envy, and I'm glad of it!"

At half-past six the company repaired to the dining-room, where the table was laid with forty covers. Monsieur Destival was seated at the lower end, between a child of six and an old deaf gentleman. He swallowed the affront, with a glance at his wife; and their eyes exchanged a meaning look in which they seemed to promise themselves a sweet revenge.

The soup had just been removed, when an uproar, evidently occasioned by people quarrelling, arose in the adjoining room.