Volume I Part 45 (2/2)
”Are you not afraid, mesdames, of suffering from ennui in the winter, in a village?” murmured Edmond at last, looking at Agathe with a melancholy expression.
”One does not suffer from ennui, monsieur,” replied Honorine, ”with plenty of occupation for one's time. Women always have something to overlook, some work to do in a house. In the country, there are a thousand additional duties to be attended to--a garden, a poultry-yard--And then, for diversion, we have reading and music.”
”Ah! are you ladies musical?”
”A little, monsieur. I expect to sell part of my furniture before moving, as the house I am buying is furnished; but I certainly shall not dispose of my piano, our faithful friend; isn't it, Agathe?”
”Oh! if we hadn't the piano, then we should be bored, and no mistake. My dear friend plays very well indeed, monsieur; and she has taught me what I know.”
”Do not listen to her, monsieur; I can play accompaniments fairly well, that's all.”
”I too am fond of music; I sing a little; and if you ladies had remained in Paris, I should have been very happy if--if--if I----”
Edmond dared not finish the sentence, but it was easy to guess the rest of it.
Honorine could not restrain a smile as she said:
”Since this morning, monsieur, you have placed us under great obligations; you have attended to our business with more zeal than--Dear me! is Monsieur Chamoureau asleep?”
”No, madame, do not mind him; he has something on his mind which engrosses him completely; you must excuse him.”
”In fact, monsieur, but for you, nothing would have yet been done toward purchasing Monsieur Courtivaux's house; you will not think it surprising, I trust, that I am anxious to know to whom I am so obliged.”
”That is quite natural, madame, and I should have told you before this.
My name is Edmond Didier; my father was formerly a clerk in the Treasury and has now retired on his pension, and with my mother is living at his native place, Nancy in Lorraine. They have sufficient means to live modestly, and they are happy. I remained in Paris and had entered a banking house, when an uncle on my mother's side was good enough to leave me sixty thousand francs.”
”With your salary, then, you are very comfortably situated.”
”I have to confess, madame, that when I found myself in possession of that unexpected wealth, I began by leaving my place; I have invested part of my funds, and I do a little business--not like Chamoureau, I have no office--but I trade a little on the Bourse, and try to speculate on the rise or fall of stocks.--That, madame, is my whole biography, and Monsieur Chamoureau here will bear witness to its accuracy.”
”What? what's that? accuracy of what?” exclaimed Chamoureau, who was thinking what he could do to make himself agreeable to Madame Sainte-Suzanne, and who suddenly discovered that he was at Madame Dalmont's.
”Nothing, my dear fellow, except that I was telling these ladies who I am, so that they may not look upon me as a schemer or a n.o.body.”
”We should never have thought that of you, monsieur, but you cannot blame two ladies, who live alone, for desiring to know something concerning the persons whom they receive. Now, monsieur, if the desire for country air should ever lead you in the direction of Ch.e.l.les, come to our modest abode and rest a moment; we shall be delighted to make you welcome to the house which you have a.s.sisted us to purchase.”
”Oh, yes! monsieur,” cried Agathe, ”it will give us great pleasure to----”
Honorine pulled her young friend's dress, whereupon she corrected herself and continued:
”And then you will see the house, which is very pretty, and the garden, of which I mean to take excellent care.”
”Your invitation is too kind for me to forget it, madame; and since you give me your permission, I shall have the honor of paying my respects to you at Ch.e.l.les.--Now, my dear Chamoureau, let us not take any more of the time of these ladies, whom, you remember, you are to meet at three o'clock to-morrow at Monsieur Courtivaux's notary's.”
”Three o'clock to-morrow. The devil! I wanted to go to Rue de Ponthieu to-morrow; she won't always be out.”
Edmond trod on Chamoureau's foot and whispered to him:
<script>