Volume I Part 68 (1/2)
”It must be there! That's where all the bigwigs meet.”
”I admit that the conjectures of the 'bigwigs' will have very little influence on our mode of life. We care little for society, but we are not desirous either to be looked upon as bears; and Agathe is old enough not to avoid society. When the opportunity presents itself to make Madame Droguet's acquaintance, we shall not let it pa.s.s; but there is no hurry, is there, Agathe?”
”Oh, no! my dear; and so far as I am concerned, when we have time to walk, it will be much more agreeable to go in the direction of the Tower, than to that lady's house who hides in the bushes to spy upon people. The acquaintance of that beautiful dog, who manifested such a liking for me, is the acquaintance I am most anxious to cultivate.”
During the day which followed this conversation, Poucette came to Honorine to say that Monsieur Luminot desired to pay his respects, as one of her neighbors.
”Show Monsieur Luminot in,” said Honorine.
”Neighborliness is about to commence,” murmured Agathe; ”I have an idea that this man is a bore!”
”My dear girl, we are not in the world solely to enjoy ourselves; we need no other proof than all the trials that are imposed on us.”
Monsieur Luminot, former wine merchant, was a tall, stout man, with a red face; an excellent type of those rustic buffoons, who deem themselves very clever because they make a great deal of noise wherever they are, and are always the first to laugh at what they themselves say; a device which very rarely fails to arouse the laughter of those who listen, especially as those who listen to such fellows are generally ent.i.tled to be numbered among Panurge's sheep.
Monsieur Luminot had arrayed himself in a white cravat, and a dress coat in which he was almost as constrained as Chamoureau in his new trousers; in the country a dress coat is but rarely donned; it is kept in reserve for grand and ceremonious a.s.semblages, so that it serves for a long while. Monsieur Luminot had possessed his for four years, and it was still quite presentable. During that time, however, its owner had considerably increased his bulk, so that the coat, which had originally fitted him very well, had become much too small; nevertheless, he persisted in wearing it.
”I must wear it out,” he would say; ”it's very good still. I can't have another coat made while this looks like a new one.”
”Good-morning, mesdames, how do you do? Allow me to congratulate myself on the pleasure of making your acquaintance.”
”Pray be seated, monsieur,” said Honorine, offering a chair to her visitor, who entered the room with a radiant expression and approached her as if he proposed to begin by embracing her.
”With pleasure, _belle dame_; I don't like to remain standing, one has enough of that in the street. Ha! ha! ha! that is a _mot_! you will excuse me, I know; I make many _mots_! I am an inveterate joker. Ha! ha!
ha! As the ballad says: 'We must laugh, we must drink to hospitality.'--I believe it's in _Le Deserteur_, but I am not quite sure.”
”Does monsieur live in the neighborhood?”
”Yes, _belle dame_, within two steps--two and a bit.--Luminot, proprietor of vineyards. Always in the vines. Ha! ha! ha! Pray don't think that I am always tipsy though; it's another _mot_! In Paris I sold wines at wholesale--excuse this _detail_.[J] Ha! ha! Well, how do you like our countryside, _belle dame_? I say _belle dame_, because I presume that this is your daughter--_demoiselle_.”
”Ah! it would be funny if I were her daughter!” exclaimed Agathe; ”in that case I should have a mother only ten years older than I!”
”Oh! a thousand pardons! I am a reckless fellow,” rejoined the former wine merchant; ”I made a mistake; I had not looked carefully at mademoiselle; I see now that you are her aunt.”
”You are not a sorcerer to-day, monsieur, you do not guess right. Agathe is simply my friend; but I love her like a daughter and a sister at once.”
”Very good, I understand; she's your cousin _a la mode de Bretagne_.--We are both happy and proud to have in our village two roses from the Capital--I might say a rose and a bud. Ha! ha! you catch my thought?
Still another _mot_! What the devil can you expect; when one has sold spirits, one must retain a little; I didn't sell everything, and it was not in vain that I was in wines.[K] Ha! ha! ha! I beg your pardon; I can't help it.--Oh! oh! oh!”
The portly buffoon, amazed that the ladies did not laugh also, grew calmer, and tried to be more sedate.
”You ladies have not told me whether you are pleased with this region.”
”We were waiting until you had ceased laughing, monsieur.--Yes, this region pleases us exceedingly, and the surrounding country seemed lovely to us.”
”Have you seen our promenade, the Poncelet?”
”No, monsieur; is it in the village?”