Part 91 (1/2)
”Oh! of course; but, after all, the count was no longer a young man; while your daughter was going to be a countess and have forty thousand francs a year; and I believe that the count agreed to make a will when he married her, making her his heir. A woman doesn't find such a husband every day.”
”Monsieur Batonnin, it's a sad business to speculate on the death of the person one marries!”
”That is true, it's very sad; but still it's done.”
”You may say what you please; I do not pity my daughter.”
”You astonish me!”
Adolphine, finding that her sister did not come, went to see her; but the concierge always said to her: ”Madame Monleard has gone out;” and the girl understood at last that her sister did not choose to see her.
One morning, Cherami was preparing to go out, when Madame Louchard came up to his room, and said, with an air of mystery:
”There's a person below who wants to know if you are visible; and I came up to make sure that you were dressed from top to toe.”
”Who is this person, pray, who makes so much fuss about coming to my room?”
”A pretty young woman.”
”A pretty young woman coming to call on me! Ah! my excellent hostess, methinks I have returned to the days of my early prowess!”
”I'll go and tell her to come up.”
”One moment! Let me brush my hair a little, straighten the parting, and see if my whiskers are well combed.”
”Look at the flirt!”
”It is never wrong to beautify one's self. Go, show this lady up. I have my cue!”
A lady of small stature, very well dressed, and of distinguished bearing, soon entered Cherami's room; when she was sure that he was alone, she raised her veil, saying:
”Good-morning, monsieur! do you recognize me?”
”G.o.d bless my soul! it's Madame Monleard, the fascinating widow. Pray be seated, fair lady; excuse me if I do not receive you in a palace, but for the moment I have only this hovel at my disposal. To what am I indebted for the honor of your visit?”
”I desired to have a little conversation with you. Such a melancholy thing has happened since we last met.”
”Don't speak of it! The poor count's death upset me completely; I couldn't believe it.”
”Especially as he seemed to be entirely restored to health. What was it that you gave him to take, in heaven's name?”
”Mon Dieu! just plain chartreuse--an excellent, strengthening liqueur.
But it seems that he dined with two friends, that he did not spare himself, that the champagne made him ill, and----”
”Well, he's dead; we must make the best of it. But it is doubly unfortunate for me. I lose a great fortune, a t.i.tle, which I had in my grasp.”
”True; you lose all that!”
”And then I--I also lose--I lose--the husband with whom I broke off relations--in order to become a countess.”