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The Milkmaid of Montfermeil Part 44

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La Thoma.s.siniere, who had made twenty thousand francs that very morning on a piece of land which he had resold, and who had the Marquis de Cligneval at his table almost every day, had a.s.sumed a more supercilious air than ever. He puffed himself out until his coat and his cravat were too tight for him, dragged his feet when he walked, and swayed his body like a pendulum. As he entered the salon he cast insolent glances upon all the guests, bowed to n.o.body, trod upon feet and dresses without apologizing, and did not answer Monin when he quitted his post behind b.i.+.c.hette's chair to ask the speculator:

"How's the state of your health?"

"How cruel of you to keep us waiting, my dear La Thoma.s.siniere!" said Monsieur Destival, offering his hand to the parvenu, who patronizingly gave him two fingers to shake, saying:

"Yes, that is true. But what can I do, when I haven't a moment to myself? We nearly missed coming. My friend the marquis wanted to take us into the country; but I thought that it would incommode you if we didn't come, so I said: 'Let's go.' But it was a close shave, on my word!"

During this conversation, Monin had remained behind La Thoma.s.siniere.



Obtaining no reply, he decided to return to his wife; but b.i.+.c.hette, who saw everything that took place in every corner of the salon, had noticed that La Thoma.s.siniere did not acknowledge her husband's salutation, and she glared fiercely at the parvenu, as she said to Monin:

"Why did you go to speak to that uncivil fellow?"

"b.i.+.c.hette, I----"

"Why do you need to inquire for everybody's health?"

"Because, b.i.+.c.hette----"

"Are you a friend of those people?"

"You know perfectly well that we met them at Monsieur Destival's. Will you have a pinch, b.i.+.c.hette?"

"Didn't you notice that the insolent wretch, the pitiful creature, who makes such a ridiculous splurge, turned his back on you without acknowledging your greeting?"

"Perhaps he didn't see me, b.i.+.c.hette."

"Not see you! You were right under his nose! You're a chicken-hearted creature, Monsieur Monin! Those Thoma.s.sinieres shall pay me for this.

Meanwhile, let me see you speaking to that man or his wife, and I'll take away your snuff-box for a week."

Monin, terrified by that threat, retreated behind the chair and took three pinches in rapid succession. But Domingo announced again that dinner was served, and they all repaired to the dining-room. Dalville offered his hand to the hostess, a provincial dandy escorted the gorgeous Athalie, the spectacled gentleman went to the three sisters, saying that he would take charge of the Graces, La Thoma.s.siniere went out alone, considering doubtless that his own presence was honor enough, Monin walked at a snail's pace with an old dowager, and Madame Monin alone was left in the salon with Monsieur Bisbis--the little man who s.h.i.+fted from one leg to the other;--he skipped forward to the stout lady in the turban, offered her his right hand, then the left, then the right again, until Madame Monin, out of patience, seized her escort about the waist, as if she were going to dance a waltz, and pulled him into the dining-room.

Dalville occupied one of the places of honor beside the hostess, and on his other side was the young lady who talked so easily. Athalie was between the provincial beau and the gentleman with spectacles; her husband was between an old lady and one of the three sisters. Madame Monin had her escort for her neighbor, and Monsieur Monin found himself seated beside the silly school-girl, who dared not raise her eyes, and to whom he had twice offered snuff when the soup was served.

The dinner was a magnificent affair: three courses, four entrees to each. Monin had no time to visit his snuff-box; he had not gone beyond the anchovies, when the first course disappeared. La Thoma.s.siniere found an opportunity to say that the madeira was poor, that the olives were too salt, that the b.u.t.ter was not so good as that made on his country place at Fleury, and that two servants were not enough to serve twenty people. To be sure, he was often obliged to ask twice for a dish, because Domingo never came quickly enough, and Baptiste got confused and lost his head running around the table.

During the second course Baptiste dropped a dish of macaroni on Madame Monin, and Domingo broke a pile of plates because he tried to run.

Madame Monin shrieked because her dress of Naples silk was spotted, and Madame Destival tried to pacify her. Monsieur Destival scolded his servants, and Monin dared not fill his gla.s.s again because b.i.+.c.hette was in a rage.

Although he drank freely of all the wines, La Thoma.s.siniere kept repeating that he had much better ones in his cellar. Destival made wry faces at his wife, who was bright enough to pretend to pay no attention to the parvenu's absurd talk. Athalie seemed to be bored by the insipid remarks of her neighbors; Madame Monin was apparently attempting the conquest of Monsieur Bisbis, who fidgeted on his chair, uncertain how to eat the charlotte russe, which he finally decided to attack with his fork. Monin longingly eyed the Roman punch, which he feared would never reach him, and he said twice to Baptiste:

"I say--er--servant, give me some of that dish they're pa.s.sing over there."

But Baptiste, still in ill humor, walked away, muttering between his teeth:

"I've got something else to do. How all these people eat! There won't be anything left for us!"

Monin, his appeal being disregarded by Baptiste, decided to apply to Domingo, to whom he gave his plate, saying:

"Negro, just ask for a little of that s.h.i.+ny stuff for--for a person."

Domingo presented the plate to Monsieur Destival, who was serving the Roman punch.

"A little s.h.i.+ny stuff," he said, "for little man with big nose."

Everybody laughed, Madame Monin alone taking it very ill that the negro should presume so to designate her husband; and she vented her wrath on a third dish of cream, saying to Monsieur Bisbis:

"I'd rather be served by four chimney-sweeps than a negro."

After the coffee and the liqueurs, they left the table in about as hilarious a mood as when they sat down; that is to say, everyone was bored, as is usually the case at a formal dinner. But the people invited for the evening were already coming in crowds; and Destival was enchanted, because there was hardly room to move, and everyone exclaimed:

"Mon Dieu! what a crowd! how hot it is here!"

The card tables were set out, and Monsieur de la Thoma.s.siniere took his seat at an ecarte table, tossing his purse on the table, saying: "I play for nothing but gold."

But the young people--that is to say, the young ladies and some few men who were sensible enough to prefer their conversation to a game of cards--took refuge in Madame Destival's bedroom. Athalie also went thither, as did Dalville and other young men. They decided that cards should be barred out, and, in order to do something, someone proposed playing games.

The suggestion was accepted, and they seated themselves in a circle.

Madame Monin eagerly joined them and wanted to begin with "In my hole, in the common hole, and in my neighbor's hole!" which she described to the others by pointing her forefinger, with much dexterity, to the right and left and centre of the a.s.semblage; but, despite the neat way in which Madame Monin put her finger in her neighbor's hole, the game was voted down, in favor of crambo, which requires the imposing of forfeits; although Madame Monin declared that it was too easy, and that her head was full of rhymes. But she ran short on the second round, because the others had said everything that she knew; so she looked at Monsieur Bisbis, and said:

"Give me one."

"I'm trying to think of one for myself," whispered Monsieur Bisbis.

They soon tired of crambo, and a young lady having proposed blind-man's-buff seated, the gentlemen voted unanimously in favor of that game. The little school-girl began; she recognized the third person in whose lap she sat--her young cousin, who had come after dinner. After him came the turn of the tall man with spectacles, who seated himself cautiously on the ladies' laps, saying:

"Hum! hum! I'll bet I can guess. Hum! hum! I know who it is. Parbleu! if I could use my hands it would be too easy."

However, he sat down upon the whole party without guessing; luckily Madame Monin remained and she was readily recognizable. Enchanted to have been caught, Madame Monin allowed herself to be bandaged, and hurled herself recklessly at the circle. At the first onslaught her weight crushed a young dandy, who cried:

"Name me, madame, name me, I beg you!"

"One moment, monsieur; you're in a terrible hurry," said Madame Monin, trying to find something by which to recognize him.

"Get off me, madame, I can't stand it any longer!" cried the young man, turning purple.

"It seems to me, monsieur, that you're not so much to be pitied, having me on your knees."

"I am suffocating, madame."

The buxom dame persisted; but as everybody dreaded to receive her on his knees, it was proposed to draw forfeits at once, despite the remonstrances of Madame Monin, who was determined to sit on Monsieur Bisbis's lap, although he swore that he had nothing to identify him.

One of the three sisters had the forfeits wrapped in the skirt of her dress. A young officer put in his hand to draw, and spent a very long time mixing them up, so that there should be no cheating. Athalie directed operations. She told the young officer to draw; but he evidently had some difficulty in getting hold, for he was a long time deciding to remove his hand from its hiding-place in the folds of the young lady's dress. At last the forfeit was brought forth; it belonged to the school-girl, and she was told to tell somebody something in confidence. She hesitated, uncertain to whom she should turn, or rather because she was afraid to select her little cousin, at whom she glanced furtively, with a blush. But her mamma was there, so she chose Monsieur Monin for her confidant.

Monin, who had slipped behind his wife's chair, was amazed when the girl said to him:

"Will you come with me, monsieur?"

The ex-druggist did not know what to do, so he leaned over his better half and whispered:

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About The Milkmaid of Montfermeil Part 44 novel

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