Part 14 (1/2)
Bixiou. ”That shows how much you love him!” [Changing his tone] ”Ah, well, I don't pity him any longer. He's rich; his wife gives parties and doesn't ask me,--me, who go everywhere! Well, good-bye, my dear fellow, good-bye, and don't owe me a grudge!” [He goes out through the clerks'
office.] ”Adieu, gentlemen; didn't I tell you yesterday that a man who has nothing but virtues and talents will always be poor, even though he has a pretty wife?”
Henry. ”You are so rich, you!”
Bixiou. ”Not bad, my Cincinnatus! But you'll give me that dinner at the Rocher de Cancale.”
Poiret. ”It is absolutely impossible for me to understand Monsieur Bixiou.”
Ph.e.l.lion [with an elegaic air]. ”Monsieur Rabourdin so seldom reads the newspapers that it might perhaps be serviceable to deprive ourselves momentarily by taking them in to him.” [Fleury hands over his paper, Vimeux the office sheet, and Ph.e.l.lion departs with them.]
At that moment des Lupeaulx, coming leisurely downstairs to breakfast with the minister, was asking himself whether, before playing a trump card for the husband, it might not be prudent to probe the wife's heart and make sure of a reward for his devotion. He was feeling about for the small amount of heart that he possessed, when, at a turn of the staircase, he encountered his lawyer, who said to him, smiling, ”Just a word, Monseigneur,” in the tone of familiarity a.s.sumed by men who know they are indispensable.
”What is it, my dear Desroches?” exclaimed the politician. ”Has anything happened?”
”I have come to tell you that all your notes and debts have been brought up by Gobseck and Gigonnet, under the name of a certain Samanon.”
”Men whom I helped to make their millions!”
”Listen,” whispered the lawyer. ”Gigonnet (really named Bidault) is the uncle of Saillard, your cas.h.i.+er; and Saillard is father-in-law to a certain Baudoyer, who thinks he has a right to the vacant place in your ministry. Don't you think I have done right to come and tell you?”
”Thank you,” said des Lupeaulx, nodding to the lawyer with a shrewd look.
”One stroke of your pen will buy them off,” said Desroches, leaving him.
”What an immense sacrifice!” muttered des Lupeaulx. ”It would be impossible to explain it to a woman,” thought he. ”Is Celestine worth more than the clearing off of my debts?--that is the question. I'll go and see her this morning.”
So the beautiful Madame Rabourdin was to be, within an hour, the arbiter of her husband's fate, and no power on earth could warn her of the importance of her replies, or give her the least hint to guard her conduct and compose her voice. Moreover, in addition to her mischances, she believed herself certain of success, never dreaming that Rabourdin was undermined in all directions by the secret sapping of the mollusks.
”Well, Monseigneur,” said des Lupeaulx, entering the little salon where they breakfasted, ”have you seen the articles on Baudoyer?”
”For G.o.d's sake, my dear friend,” replied the minister, ”don't talk of those appointments just now; let me have an hour's peace! They cracked my ears last night with that monstrance. The only way to save Rabourdin is to bring his appointment before the Council, unless I submit to having my hand forced. It is enough to disgust a man with the public service. I must purchase the right to keep that excellent Rabourdin by promoting a certain Colleville!”
”Why not make over the management of this pretty little comedy to me, and rid yourself of the worry of it? I'll amuse you every morning with an account of the game of chess I should play with the Grand Almoner,”
said des Lupeaulx.
”Very good,” said the minister, ”settle it with the head examiner. But you know perfectly well that nothing is more likely to strike the king's mind than just those reasons the opposition journal has chosen to put forth. Good heavens! fancy managing a ministry with such men as Baudoyer under me!”
”An imbecile bigot,” said des Lupeaulx, ”and as utterly incapable as--”
”--as La Billardiere,” added the minister.
”But La Billardiere had the manners of a gentleman-in-ordinary,” replied des Lupeaulx. ”Madame,” he continued, addressing the countess, ”it is now an absolute necessity to invite Madame Rabourdin to your next private party. I must a.s.sure you she is the intimate friend of Madame de Camps; they were at the Opera together last night. I first met her at the hotel Firmiani. Besides, you will see that she is not of a kind to compromise a salon.”
”Invite Madame Rabourdin, my dear,” said the minister, ”and pray let us talk of something else.”
CHAPTER VII. SCENES FROM DOMESTIC LIFE
Parisian households are literally eaten up with the desire to be in keeping with the luxury that surrounds them on all sides, and few there are who have the wisdom to let their external situation conform to their internal revenue. But this vice may perhaps denote a truly French patriotism, which seeks to maintain the supremacy of the nation in the matter of dress. France reigns through clothes over the whole of Europe; and every one must feel the importance of retaining a commercial sceptre that makes fas.h.i.+on in France what the navy is to England. This patriotic ardor which leads a nation to sacrifice everything to appearances--to the ”paroistre,” as d'Aubigne said in the days of Henri IV.--is the cause of those vast secret labors which employ the whole of a Parisian woman's morning, when she wishes, as Madame Rabourdin wished, to keep up on twelve thousand francs a year the style that many a family with thirty thousand does not indulge in. Consequently, every Friday,--the day of her dinner parties,--Madame Rabourdin helped the chambermaid to do the rooms; for the cook went early to market, and the man-servant was cleaning the silver, folding the napkins, and polis.h.i.+ng the gla.s.ses.