The Milkmaid of Montfermeil - LightNovelsOnl.com
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"There ain't no sheets but for one bed, and it's no more'n fair for me to have 'em, old as I am. His father sleeps on a sack of straw same as he does. He don't sleep no worse for it either, I tell you."
"Here, Mere Madeleine, take this, and buy a bed for the child, and don't be so harsh with him."
As he spoke, Auguste rose, and put six more five-franc pieces in the old woman's hand. She, having never before seen so much money at one time, made curtsy after curtsy, overwhelming the stranger with thanks, and saying to the child:
"Come, Coco, thank monsieur for giving me all this money for you. Thank him, I say, quick!"
The child looked up at his grandmother in evident embarra.s.sment.
"Let him alone," said Auguste, as he kissed him; "he doesn't know the value of money yet. The kiss he gives me is all the more sincere on that account. Adieu, my little Coco.--By the way, which is the road to Livry, please?"
"Follow this path, monsieur, and it'll take you to the main road. You'll be there in half an hour. Do you want Coco to show you the way?"
"It isn't necessary."
Auguste left the hovel; the child bade him good-bye and called after him:
"Come and play with me again, won't you?"
"Yes," said Auguste, "I promise."
IV
SOME PORTRAITS AFTER NATURE
Since eleven o'clock Dalville had been expected at Monsieur Destival's.
Madame, a brunette of thirty, with a bright eye and a most expressive glance, who was an adept in the art of making the most of a shapely figure and seductive contours by an effective costume,--madame had finished her toilet. In the country it was, of course, very simple; but there are some neglige costumes which require much preparation. However, as madame was pretty and still young, she had spent only a half hour in donning a filmy white dress, confined at the waist by an orange sash; in arranging her curls becomingly and adorning them with a bow of the same color as her sash. Nor had she asked Julie more than six times if the yellow was becoming to her.
Julie replied that madame was fascinating, that yellow was always becoming to brunettes, and, in fact, that madame need not be afraid to wear any color. Madame smiled slightly at Julie, who was only twenty-four, but was extremely ugly, which is almost always considered a valuable quality in a lady's maid.
Monsieur Destival was ten years older than his wife; he was tall and thin; his face was not handsome, but it had character; unfortunately its expression was not of the sort that denotes an amiable person, whose wit causes one to forget his ugliness; it denoted self-sufficiency, conceit, and a constant tendency to be cunning. His rustic cap, set well forward on his head, seemed to put a seal upon all the rest.
Monsieur Destival was formerly a government employe; with his wife's dowry he had bought the office of official auctioneer, which he had afterward sold at a profit. Although he never talked of politics for fear of compromising himself, and did not himself know to what party he belonged, he had had the shrewdness to set up an office as a business agent, had obtained a numerous clientage and had succeeded in tripling his capital. To be sure, he gave receptions, b.a.l.l.s and small punches, and madame, whose eyes were full of fire and whose manners were charming, did the honors of her salon with infinite grace.
The country house, where they pa.s.sed much of the time in summer, was large enough to enable them to entertain extensively, and to provide rooms for seven or eight friends. As monsieur never allowed more than one day to pa.s.s without going to Paris to look after his business, and as he sometimes pa.s.sed the night there, madame--who was very timid, although she had the look of a strong-minded woman--liked to keep one of monsieur's male friends in the house.
A young man with twenty thousand francs a year could not fail to be hospitably received at Monsieur Destival's; and so, although it was only three months since Auguste had made his acquaintance, he was already on the footing of an intimate friend. Monsieur constantly urged him to call, whether at Paris or in the country, and madame was very fond of singing and playing with him.
But the clock struck twelve, and Monsieur Dalville did not appear.
Madame was annoyed. Julie was posted on the lookout at a window on the second floor, and monsieur wandered from one room to another, exclaiming:
"The devil! my friend Dalville is very late, and he promised to come early, to be here for breakfast."
"Does Monsieur Auguste ever remember his promises?" asked madame snappishly.
"Oh! there you go again, always finding fault with him, attacking him, making fun of him."
"I, monsieur? What concern of mine are Monsieur Dalville's tastes or his failings? When did you ever see me attack him?"
"I know that it's all in joke; but you are a little bit caustic, my dear Emilie, you like to hurl epigrams. It is true, I admit, that I myself should be very biting, if I didn't hold myself back; in fact, I often am unconsciously. But after all, Dalville's a charming fellow--well-born--rich--talented."
"Talented? Oh! very slightly."
"I thought that he was strong on the violin?"
"No, monsieur, he often plays false--Well, Julie, do you see anyone coming?"
"Mon Dieu! no, madame, it's no use to look. And all those cheeses that I bought of Denise! How annoying!"
"For heaven's sake, mademoiselle, don't bother us with your cheeses. Go up to the cupola--you can see farther."
"Very well, madame."
Julie went upstairs and monsieur resumed the conversation.
"You won't deny, I trust, that Dalville has a pleasant voice."
"Pleasant! bah! a voice like everybody's else."
"Why, I should say that you and he sing duets together perfectly, especially the one from Feydeau's _Muletier_; you know, the one with 'What joy! what joy!' and that ends with 'coucou! coucou!'"
"Oh! you tire me, monsieur, with your 'coucous!'"
"He plays quadrilles on the piano."
"Who doesn't play now?"
"Faith, I don't; to be sure, I have always had so much business on hand that I have had to neglect my taste for music. At all events, Dalville is bright, pleasant, always in good spirits."
"There are days when he can't say three words in succession!"
"Let me tell you that I myself, when I'm very much occupied with some important matter, am not as agreeable as usual--that happens to everybody. To return to Dalville--he is rich--and young.--By George! I have an idea! such a delicious idea!"
"What is it then, monsieur?"
"I must find a wife for him."
"A wife for Monsieur Auguste? Why on earth should you interfere? Is it any of your business?"
"Isn't it my business to look after other people's business? This may turn out a profitable affair."
"Oh! don't go to making matches, monsieur, I beg! As if you knew anything about such things!"
"I flatter myself that I do, madame."