Le Cocu Part 27

"The deuce! really? you have had a quarrel? Well, that's like me. I often have quarrels with Armide, but that doesn't prevent me from being happy. They are little clouds which soon pa.s.s away."

"And does your mother-in-law still weep all the time?"

"Oh! don't speak of my mother-in-law! I admit that she is my nightmare; it is she who stirs up her daughter. I know well enough that she doesn't do it from any bad motive; she is too n.o.ble for that. But when one doesn't come up to the mark in a salutation or in any sort of ceremony, when one does not offer his hand quickly enough, why there is no end to the reproaches and complaints. However, I am very happy; although those devilish Girauds have already tried to make people think that I am a cuckold."

"What! the Girauds have said----"

"That I am a cuckold. Yes, my friend, they have said that! Whereas, she is a woman of the most rigid principle; and moreover, a woman with whom a man can be perfectly at ease. One of those cold, marble women, you know. When you kiss them, it is exactly as if you didn't kiss them; it produces the same effect."

"The deuce! that is very comforting!"

"Oh, I promise you that when I am a cuckold, I shall make no objection to its being advertised. But I know why the Girauds say that: it's from spite because they weren't at my wedding."

"I agree with you. But still, I cannot believe that they have ventured to say----"

"Yes, they have. But let me tell you what pretext they have invented for making such remarks. I told you that, before obtaining Armide's hand, I thrust aside a lot of rivals, among others a marquis who had six decorations."

"Yes."

"Well, instead of taking offence, like the others, because I triumphed over him, the marquis came to me and complimented me frankly, and said with charming affability: 'You have beaten me, and it is quite right; you are a better man than I; I appreciate you and do you justice. Marry Mademoiselle de Beausire, and allow me to continue to be your friend.'--What do you say to that, eh?"

"That was very obliging."

"As you can imagine, I was touched by that proceeding. I urged the marquis to come to see us, and he did so; in fact, he comes very often.

That is the basis for the slanders of the Girauds. When my wife heard of that, being very strict in such matters, she insisted at once that I should ask the marquis to cease his visits; but I showed my strength of character; I said to the marquis: 'you come every day, try to come twice a day, and I shall be better pleased than ever.' He does it. And in this respect, at least, my mother-in-law considers that I did well."

I made no reply, but I laughed to myself. What selfish creatures we are!

we laugh at the misfortunes of others and we desire to be pitied for our own misfortunes. At a quarter-past ten, although there was another play to be performed, Belan went away to call for his wife. He was afraid that if he stayed any longer, he should be late and be scolded by his mother-in-law, which however did not prevent him, when he bade me good-night, from saying again that he was very happy.

XII

APPEARANCES

For several days Eugenie and I hardly spoke; she remained in her bedroom almost all day, and I in my study. In that way we did not dispute, to be sure; but that mode of life was very dismal; it was not for the purpose of living on such terms with my wife that I married her; and I felt that I should certainly regret my bachelor days if it was to continue.

I went more than once to Ernest's. Ah! what a difference! how happy they were! they were still lovers. Love, pleasure, happiness--those are what they gave to each other; and they were still as light of heart, as much like children, as when they lived under the eaves. Ernest, as a matter of courtesy, asked me about my wife; but I fancied that he was not anxious to see her again; for my part, I dared not urge him to come, although I was careful not to mention my quarrel with Eugenie.

When two people are young, especially when they are fond of each other, they cannot remain on bad terms long. Eugenie and I hovered about each other, but our accursed pride and self-esteem continued to keep us apart. It was a contest between us to see which should give way first; because, doubtless, she did not think she was in the wrong, and I was perfectly sure that I was in the right. But one day, when Eugenie was seated beside me, saying nothing, I threw self-esteem to the winds; I embraced my wife affectionately, and we were reconciled. Ah! such reconciliations are very sweet. However, as they are always the result of quarrels, I consider that they are a pleasure in which one should indulge in moderation. The time for us to move drew near, and I felt that I should regret to leave that house in which I had pa.s.sed such happy hours. But I kept my regrets to myself, for my wife would have ascribed them to other reasons. For Eugenie, that change was an unalloyed joy. I pretended to share it. I think that her satisfaction was twofold: in the first place, because she was leaving that house; in the second place, because she was moving from that neighborhood, where she knew that we were near the home of Ernest and his wife.

On the eve of the day when we were to move, as everything in our apartment was topsy-turvy, we preferred not to dine there; we could not invite ourselves to dine with Madame Dumeillan, who had not been well for some time; to go to my mother's might cause her to lose her evening game of whist; so we made up our minds to dine at a restaurant, in a private room. My wife looked forward to it with delight. As my business would detain me quite late in the Tuileries quarter, I arranged to meet Eugenie on the Terra.s.se des Feuillants; she was to go to our new apartment, and then to meet me at the place appointed, at five o'clock.

I finished my business as quickly as I could, for I did not wish that Eugenie should be at the rendezvous before me, and have to wait for me.

I made such haste that it was not half-past four when I reached the Garden of the Tuileries. No matter, I thought, I will stroll about.

Less than three minutes after I had arrived, I heard a voice which was not unfamiliar to me, say:

"It seems that we are fated always to meet here; it is very strange, really."

It was Lucile again. I had not seen her since my wedding day. She was dressed very elegantly, and she was alone.

"Is it you, madame?"

"Yes, monsieur, I am obliged to come to the garden to meet you."

"It is true that in Paris, when people are not looking for each other----"

"And even if they are looking for each other, that is no reason why they should find each other. Have you just been married again, monsieur?"

"No, madame. That is well enough when one is a bachelor--to take a new wife every week."

"You have reformed now, I suppose?"

"Yes, madame, entirely."

"I congratulate you. And yet, although you have reformed, you look very much to me as if you were here to keep an appointment."

"That is true, madame, but appointments do not always mean love-affairs."

"I don't know what they mean; but you are waiting for someone, and I'll bet that it's a woman."

"You are not mistaken; moreover, a woman whom I am going to take to dinner in a private room at a restaurant."

"You have reformed with a vengeance! But I should have been more surprised to find it the other way. It was well worth while to get married!"

"Madame, I will not prolong your error; it is my wife for whom I am waiting, and whom I agreed to meet here."

"Your wife! I beg pardon, monsieur, pray receive my apology. I had no suspicion that you had become a Philemon. Come, joking aside, is it really your wife that you are waiting for?"

"Yes, to be sure. What is there so extraordinary in that?"

"Do you mean that you are still in love with your wife?"

"Still! why it seems to me that I was married only yesterday!"

"Bless my soul! how touching!"

Lucile bit her lips with a sneering smile. I had no wish to prolong my conversation with her, although I was certain that my wife would not come so early. I made a motion to bid her adieu; she grasped my arm.

"What, you are going to leave me so soon? Mon Dieu! don't tremble so; your wife will not come yet."

"I trust not; for, frankly, I would not like to have her see me talking with you."

"Would she whip you?"