The Milkmaid of Montfermeil Part 88

"Remember that you are in your own house here; we built this cottage with what you gave Coco, so you see that it belongs to you."

"No, Denise, this house is the boy's fortune; I am too happy to have been able to contribute to his welfare, and I only regret that I didn't use in this way all the money I have wasted on my pleasures!--Nothing is left to me from my follies; but something always remains of the good that one does!"

"Then you have reformed? You won't fall in love any more--with every woman you see, will you?"

"Faith, Denise, I wouldn't swear not to as yet. I received a bitter lesson on my fifth floor--and in my travels I turned it to no advantage whatever. Ah! if I had won the love of a sincere, true-hearted, virtuous woman--like you, Denise--perhaps I should have reformed before this!"

"What, monsieur!" said Denise, blushing; "do you mean that I don't love you?"

"No--you love me like a brother, I know, and your touchingly warm welcome of me, the delight that my return has caused you, show plainly enough your deep affection for me; but, my dear Denise, there is a sweeter, tenderer sentiment which I hoped to inspire in you before you told me that you could never love me. Don't lower your eyes, Denise; I am not reproaching you; we cannot control our hearts, and I admit that I did not deserve yours. I tried to accustom myself to look upon you as a sister; that is what I have been trying to do ever since our interview in your aunt's garden. It will be hard, but with time I shall succeed--perhaps. Let us leave that subject; I am so happy to be with you now!--Well! haven't you anything to say to me, Denise?"

"Yes, monsieur, yes! But you must feel the need of rest."

"It is true that my journey has tired me; and my story has kept you up late."

"Come, monsieur; I'll take you to the little summer-house that I have had built in the garden; it makes the prettiest room in the house. I wish I could give you even better quarters----"

"You forget, Denise, that I am no longer the dandy of the Chaussee-d'Antin! Just cast your eye at my costume."

"Oh, to me you are always the same, monsieur!"

She took Auguste to the summer-house and left him there with a loving: "Until to-morrow;" then she returned to the house and her own room, saying to herself:

"He thinks that my only feeling for him is friendship; he is very much mistaken; what I feel for him is love! Mon Dieu! why did I believe Monsieur Bertrand at that time? Why did I tell him that I didn't love him? This is what comes of lying! But I'll tell him the truth now, because I don't want him to try to look on me as a sister."

XXVII

AVOWALS.--THE PROPOSAL

After travelling about for three years in quest of riches, and finding in all lands the same vices, the same pa.s.sions, the same folly,--when one returns home even poorer than one went away, how delicious it is to wake beneath a hospitable roof, with faithful friends whom one's evil fortune has not changed, and who are made happy by one's return! It is the harbor after a gale; it is the clear sky after a storm; it is the gleam of dawn after a long night.

Such was Auguste's waking; in his eyes the cottage was a palace, aye, better than a palace, since it held Denise and Coco. He rose, and after revelling for a few moments in the pure air of the garden, he turned his attention to his costume. Not with impunity does one live under the same roof with a lovely girl whom one has once loved, and still loves, although resolved to be nothing more than her friend. Moreover, it is quite natural to try to recover some of one's former attractions, after making one's appearance in the costume of an impoverished wayfarer.

In a short time, the razor had disposed of the beard. But Auguste's modest portmanteau contained only a coat, a waistcoat and almost no linen. He was inspecting it with a dejected air when there came a soft tap at his door and he heard Coco's voice:

"It's me, my kind friend."

Auguste opened the door to the child, who had a large bundle which he placed on the bed.

"What's all this, my friend?" queried Auguste, after he had kissed the little fellow.

"I don't know, my kind friend; it was Denise that told me to bring it to you. Good-bye; I'm going to feed my goat. You didn't see her last night; hurry up and dress yourself and come and say good-morning to her."

When the child had gone, Auguste opened the package, which contained a supply of linen and a paper on which was written:

"Coco gives you this; remember that he didn't refuse your gifts a long time ago."

"Dear Denise!" said Auguste; "how thoughtful of her! And to think of her being able to get them so early! She can't have slept at all--she must have ransacked the village already. If this is the way her friendship works, what would happen if one had her love!"

However, it was a bitter thing to Auguste to accept the girl's gifts; when one is in the habit of giving, it is hard to make up one's mind to receive. He overcame at last the feeling of pride that caused him to hesitate; he realized that it would hurt Denise if he refused, and that consideration decided him to accept her presents.

After completing his toilet, Auguste went into the garden and found Denise there. She came to meet him with the most engaging smile, and a look in which there was something more than friendship. Coco ran to Auguste and said:

"Ah! I know you now--this is the way you used to look."

"Thanks to you, Denise!" said Dalville in an undertone.

But the girl put her hand over his mouth, and he seized the hand and pressed it to his heart without more words. They showed him the cottage, the garden, every nook and corner, and Denise said to him at every step:

"Do you like this? Are you satisfied with the use I have made of your money?"

"What surprises me," said Auguste, "is that you can build a house with three thousand francs."

"In the first place, monsieur, we had the land; and then, you see, the cottage has only four rooms and attics above."

"But that pretty summer-house where I slept last night?"

"Oh! I had that built after my poor aunt's death. I preferred to live here than in our house. I felt as if I weren't so far away from you."

These words were accompanied by another sweet smile; all of which was not calculated to induce Auguste to look upon the lovely girl as his sister simply.

After breakfast they sat in the shade of a clump of lilacs. They talked a long while, having so much to say to each other after a long separation. The girl did not weary of listening to Auguste's stories of his travels. When he mentioned Bertrand's name, a sigh escaped him; whereupon Denise took his hand and pressed it affectionately, to give him to understand that he still had friends. He continued his story, but her hand remained in his, and she did not think of withdrawing it.

Engrossed by the pleasure of being with Denise, of exchanging soft glances with her, it did not seem to occur to Auguste that he must look upon her only with a friend's eyes. Nor did Denise seek to conceal the state of her feelings from him; on the contrary, she wished him to read in the lowest depths of her heart.

Several days pa.s.sed swiftly. In the morning Auguste and Denise went to walk in the country. Coco always went with them, but his presence did not incommode them; for their eyes alone betrayed their feelings, and an innocent heart has no fear of witnesses. At night, when they were together in the cottage, the hours flew more swiftly still, and when they separated, they exchanged a loving: "Until to-morrow."

Auguste could not conceal from himself the fact that he adored Denise, and, being persuaded that she had no other feeling than friendship for him, he said to himself:

"This girl will end by turning my head. But she loves me only as a brother; she doesn't know how dangerous to my repose her affectionate glances and caresses are. I must leave her and return to Paris; a few days more and I shan't have strength to do it."

On her side Denise said to herself:

"Great heaven! doesn't he see that I love him? I do all that I can to show him! Is it that he doesn't choose to understand me? In that case I must just tell him how it is; and now that he has nothing at all and I have a little money, perhaps he'll not despise the little village girl."

Although he continued to tell himself that he must go away from Denise, Auguste did not leave the cottage, where he was so comfortable. But one evening when he was alone with her, he inquired:

"How does it happen, Denise, that you are not married?"

"Because I didn't choose to marry, monsieur!" she replied, raising her lovely eyes to his.

"But you were in love with someone, surely? You told me so. What obstacle has prevented you from marrying the object of your choice?"

Denise blushed and no longer dared to look at Auguste. At last she faltered in a tremulous voice: