Part 60 (1/2)
”Alas, yes! but apparently it may be that one is well off and does not realize it.”
”I trust that I shall never have the experience.”
I do not know how it happened that at that moment Caroline's hand was under mine. She did not take it away, and we sat thus for a long while, paying no heed to what was taking place in the salon. But the touch of that hand reminded me of Eugenie and of the time when I was paying court to her. Doubtless Caroline had no suspicion that the pressure of her hand made me think of another woman, and that it was that which made me pensive. But we very often deceive ourselves with respect to the sensations which we arouse. And the thing which flatters our self-esteem would sometimes cause us naught but vexation if we knew its real cause.
Suddenly the door of the salon was noisily opened and someone entered, talking very loud and making a great uproar. I turned, for whenever anyone entered the salon, I felt a thrill of uneasiness.
”This is the gentleman from Paris, no doubt,” said Caroline.
I looked at the newcomer, who was just saluting the company; it was Belan!
He had already turned in our direction; he bowed to Mademoiselle Derbin, and, in spite of the signals that I made to him, exclaimed when he saw me:
”I am not mistaken! it is Blemont! dear Blemont, whom I have not seen for two years! Ah! my dear friend, embrace me!”
He opened his arms; it seemed to me that I could choke him with great good will. All eyes were turned upon us. I could not conceal my embarra.s.sment, my irritation. Belan seized me and embraced me in spite of myself, still exclaiming:
”Dear Blemont! how pleasant it is to meet a friend when travelling, isn't it?”
”Hum! may the devil take----”
”What's that? He has not yet got over his surprise.”
Caroline, her attention attracted by the name of Blemont, gazed steadfastly at me and said to Belan:
”Why, are you not mistaken, monsieur? It is Monsieur Dalbreuse whom you are speaking to. Am I not right, monsieur? Pray answer!”
I did not know what to say. Belan rejoined:
”So his name is Dalbreuse now? Faith, my dear fellow, I never knew you by that name, but I understand--ah! the rascal!--it was when he left his wife that he changed his name, in order to play the bachelor.”
”His wife!” cried Caroline.
”His wife!” several others repeated.
”Monsieur,” I said, with great difficulty restraining my anger, ”who requested you to go into details which concern n.o.body but me?”
”Mon Dieu! I had no idea that it was a secret, my dear Blemont; and then, I have just met your wife in the garden; and now I find you here; so I suppose that it's all settled, that you have come together again, and----”
”That is enough, monsieur.”
”Your wife in the garden! what! is she your wife?” said Caroline, under her breath.
I lowered my eyes. At that moment I wished that the earth would open and conceal me from every eye; I heard people saying on all sides:
”He is the sick woman's husband!”
Belan, observing my embarra.s.sment and the effect his words had produced in the salon, gazed at me with a stupid expression, muttering:
”If you are angry, I am very sorry; but I could not guess! you ought to have warned me. Of course you know what has happened to me? Parbleu!
there is no mystery about that; my case was reported in the Gazette des Tribunaux a few days ago. I am--oh! it is all over; I am--I don't care to say the word before these ladies. But see how unlucky I am! the court has decided that there were no proofs; it condemns me to continue to live with my wife, and insists that I am not a cuckold.--Bless my soul!