Part 30 (1/2)
”And what did it answer you?”
”Pa.s.sionately.”
”Oh, well, it was answering about everybody.” And Jeanne added, as she mounted the little flight of stone steps just behind her friend: ”It's quite true; everybody loves you; and you deserve to be loved--there!”
When the two girls entered the room where everyone was a.s.sembled, their arrival seemed to have the effect of bringing some animation into the faces of all the people.
”At last, and not before it was time!” murmured Henry de Bracieux, in a way which caused his grandmother to glance at him, whilst M. de Clagny stepped quickly forward to meet Bijou.
”That's right,” she said pleasantly; ”how good of you to come again so soon to see us!”
”Too good! You'll have too much of me before long!”
”Never!” she answered, smiling merrily; and then taking Jeanne's hand, she introduced her. ”Jeanne Dubuisson--my best friend--whom I shall lose now, because she is going to be married!”
”But why do you say that, Bijou?” exclaimed the young girl reproachfully. ”You know very well that, married or not married, I shall always be your friend.”
”Yes--everyone says that; but it isn't the same thing! When one is married one does not belong to one's parents or friends any more, one belongs to one's husband--and to him alone.”
”How delightful such delusions are!” murmured M. de Clagny.
Bijou turned towards him abruptly.
”What did you say?” she asked.
”Oh, it was just nonsense!”
”No; I quite understand that you were laughing at me. Yes, I understand perfectly well; it's no good shaking your head, I know all the same that you were making fun of me, because I said that when one is married one belongs only to one's husband! Well, that may be very ridiculous, but it is my idea, and I believe it is M. Spiegel's, too?”
The young man smiled and nodded without answering.
”Has anyone introduced M. Spiegel?” continued Bijou, still addressing the count. ”No? well, then, I will repair such negligence. Monsieur Spiegel, Jeanne's _fiance_, who does not dare to support me, and declare that I am right, because he is not in the majority here; there is no one here who is married but himself--that is to say, nearly married.”
”Oh, indeed, and what about Paul?” asked the marchioness, laughing.
”Paul! Oh, yes, that's true; I was not thinking of him! Anyhow, the unmarried persons are in the majority--Henry, Pierrot, Monsieur Courteil, M. Giraud, Jean--well, what's the matter with Jean? he does look queer!”
Jean de Blaye was seated in an arm-chair, with his eyes half-closed and his head resting on his hand, looking very drowsy.
”I have a headache!” he answered; and then, as Bijou persisted, and wanted to know what had given him a headache, he exclaimed gruffly: ”Well, what do you want me to say? It's a headache; how can I tell what's given it me? It comes itself how it likes--that's all I know!”
Bijou had gone behind the arm-chair in which her cousin was lounging.
”You must have a very, very bad headache to look as you do,” she said, not at all discouraged by his abrupt manner, and noticing his pale face, his drawn features, and his eyes, with dark circles round them, ”and for you to own, too, that there is anything the matter with you; because you always set up for being so strong and well. Poor Jean, I do wish you could get rid of it.”
She bent forward, and pressing her lips gently on the young man's weary eyelids, remained like that a few seconds.
Jean de Blaye turned pale, and then very red, and rose hastily from his chair.