Volume VI Part 30 (1/2)
The old wo a step: ”Is't thou, boy?”
The young felloered: ”Yes, it is I,up to her, kissed her on both cheeks with a son's hearty smack Then he rubbed noses with his father, who had taken off his cap, a very tall, black silk cap, made Rouen fashi+on, like those worn by cattle dealers
Then George said: ”This is my wife,” and the two country people looked at Madeleine They looked at her as one looks at a phenomenon, with an uneasy fear, united in the father with a species of approving satisfaction, in the mother with a kind of jealous enmity
The man, as of a joyous nature and inspired by a loveliness born of sweet cider and alcohol, grew bolder, and asked, with a twinkle in the corner of his eyes: ”I may kiss her all the same?”
”Certainly,” replied his son, and Madeleine, ill at ease, held out both cheeks to the sounding smacks of the rustic, who then wiped his lips with the back of his hand The old wohter-in-laith a hostile reserve No, this was not the daughter-in-law of her dreams; the plump, fresh housewife, rosy-cheeked as an apple, and round as a brood mare She looked like a hussy, the fine lady with her furbelows and her irl all perfu behind the carriage which bore the trunk of the needded pair The old fellow took his son by the ar him a little in the rear of the others, asked with interest: ”Well, how goes business, lad?”
”Pretty fair”
”So much the better Has thy wife any e
His father gave vent to an ad it!” so overcome was he by the mention of the su it all, she's a fine woman!” For he found her to his taste, and he had passed for a good judge in his day
Madeleine and hera word The two e, a little roadside village fores and fars, the former of brick and the latter of clay, these covered with thatch and those with slates Father Duroy's tavern, ”The Bellevue,” a bit of a house consisting of a ground floor and a garret, stood at the beginning of the village to the left A pine branch above the door indicated, in ancient fashi+on, that thirsty folk could enter
The things were laid for lunch, in the coether and covered with two napkins A neighbor, co such a fine lady appear; and then, recognizing George, exclaiayly: ”Yes, it is I, Mother Brulin,” and kissed her as he had kissed his father andto his wife, he said: ”Come into our rooh a door to the right into a cold-looking room with tiled floor, white-washed walls, and a bed hite cotton curtains A crucifix above a holy-water stoup, and two colored pictures, one representing Paul and Virginia under a blue palm tree, and the other Napoleon the First on a yellow horse, were the only orna apartment
As soon as they were alone he kissed Madeleine, saying: ”Thanks, Made I aain When one is in Paris one does not think about it; but when one ives one pleasure all the sa the partition with his fist, cried out: ”Co, the soup is ready,” and they had to sit down to table
It was a long, countrified repast, with a succession of ill-assorted dishes, a sausage after a leg of e Father Duroy, excited by cider and solasses of wine, turned on the tap of his choicest jokes--those he reserved for great occasions of festivity, smutty adventures that had happened, as he e, who knew all these stories, laughed, nevertheless, intoxicated by his native air, seized on by the innate love of one's birthplace and of spots familiar from childhood, by all the sensations and recollections once ain once more; by trifles, such as thesohboring forest, the odors of the dwelling, the gutter, the dunghill
Mother Duroy did not speak, but rehter-in-law out of the corner of her eye, with hatred awakened in her heart--the hatred of an old toiler, an old rustic with fingers worn and limbs bent by hard work--for the city madame, who inspired her with the repulsion of an accursed creature, an i up every lasses with cider, sharp and yellow fro froer beer
Madeleine scarcely ate or spoke She wore her wonted sned one She was downcast Why? She had wanted to co country folk--poor country folk What had she fancied them to be--she, who did not usually dream? Did she know herself? Do not wo that is not? Had she fancied them more poetical? No; but perhaps better informed, more noble, more affectionate, h-bred, like those in novels
Whence ca, imperceptible details, by a thousand indefinable coarsenesses, by their very nature as rustics, by their words, their gestures, and their mirth?
She recalled her own ht up at Saint Denis--seduced, and died frorief when she, Madeleine, elve years old An unknown hand had had her brought up Her father, no doubt Who was he? She did not exactly know, although she had vague suspicions
The lunch still dragged on Custo hands with the father, uttering excla as they scanned the young wife out of the corner of their eye, which was as e Duroy's wife” Others, less inti for ”A pot,” ”A jugful,” ”Two brandies,” ”A raspail,” and began to play at do the little bits of black and white bone Mother Duroy kept passing to and fro, serving the custo the tables with the corner of her blue apron
The sars filled the rooo out; I cannot stand it”
They had not quite finished, and old Duroy was annoyed at this Then she got up and went and sat on a chair outside the door, while her father-in-law and her husband were finishi+ng their coffee and their nip of brandy
George soon rejoined her ”Shall we stroll down as far as the Seine?”
said he