Part 62 (1/2)

Ernest's two children had left their play and had drawn near to look at me. A little boy, about three years old, alone had remained on the gra.s.s; he looked at us with a timid air. Suddenly my daughter left my knee and ran to the little boy, took his hand, and led him to me, saying:

”Come, Eugene, and kiss papa.”

I had guessed that it was he. I examined him closely: he had pretty chestnut hair, lovely eyes, a pink and white complexion, and a gentle expression; he looked very much like Eugenie; that was all that I could discover in his features.

Doubtless my face had grown stern, for the child seemed to be afraid to come forward. I could not help smiling, however, when he said to me with a comical gravity:

”Good-morning, papa.”

I kissed him on the cheek, but sighed as I did so, with a heavy weight at my heart. Then I put him down and he returned at once to the gra.s.s.

It seemed that the poor little fellow noticed that I had kissed him against my will.

I took my daughter on my knee again; she jumped about and clapped her hands for joy, saying:

”Now, when mamma comes back, I shall be happy; she will come soon, won't she, papa? Why didn't you bring her back? She told me that she was going to get you.”

I turned my eyes away and made no reply. Ernest said to me in an undertone:

”My friend, you forbade us to mention your wife to you; but you must expect now that Henriette will mention her very often. You certainly would not want your daughter to cease to think of her mother?”

”No, of course not; besides, I am more reasonable now than I used to be.

I am now curious to learn--Henriette, go and play with your little friends.”

My daughter went back to her brother and Ernest's children. I sat between Marguerite and Ernest and said to them:

”Tell me what has occurred since I went away, and how it happened that my daughter was placed in your charge.”

”Yes, we will tell you all about it,” said Marguerite. ”But first--I say, Ernest, have you told him?”

Ernest smiled but said nothing.

”What is it?” I inquired.

”We are married!” cried Marguerite, jumping up and down on the bench.

”It is all settled--three months ago. Ah! I am not afraid of his leaving me now; I am his wife.”

She ran to Ernest, took his head in her hands, and kissed him; he extricated himself, saying:

”Stop! you are rumpling my s.h.i.+rt.”

”You see, Monsieur Henri, he is less agreeable already!--Oh! I only said that in fun.”

”My dear friends, you have done well to be married, since that was your wish. I do not think that you will be any happier than you were, but I hope that you will be as happy. You have pledges of happiness.”

I kissed Marguerite and shook hands with Ernest, who said:

”That is enough about ourselves, now let us come to your matters.--When you had gone, I determined to ascertain how Madame Blemont was behaving.

But she appeared in society very little; and yet--for you know how just the world is--people pitied her, praised her highly, and blamed you for deserting her. One night she came to a large party where I was. Her costume was as elaborate as ever; but I thought that she had lost color, that she had greatly changed. I fancied that her gayety was forced, and I noticed that she relapsed constantly into a gloomy reverie, from which she emerged with difficulty. You know what sentiments Madame Blemont aroused in my breast. I was the only person in the world who looked at her with a more than severe expression, and I am convinced that she felt that I was the only one to whom you had confided your misfortunes; so that my presence always produced a magical effect upon her; she ceased to talk, and it seemed to me that in my presence she dared not even pretend to be light-hearted.

”Belan came to that same party with his wife and his mother-in-law. I do not know whether it was from malice or from stupidity, but on seeing me, he said to me: