The Milkmaid of Montfermeil - Part 10
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Part 10

Madame Destival uttered these last words with malicious emphasis; but Madame de la Thoma.s.siniere seemed to pay no heed to them; as hare-brained as she was inconsequent, she said offensive things unintentionally; and if she talked constantly of her dresses, her diamonds and her estate, it was less from vanity than as a matter of habit, whereas the wish to make a show of his wealth was the motive behind every act of her husband.

"Luncheon is waiting, mesdames," said Monsieur Destival, hastening forward gallantly to offer his arm to the pet.i.te-maitresse; "come; it is late, and you must be hungry. Faith, if Dalville comes, he will have to eat alone, that's all there is about it."

The master of the house walked away with the young woman. Monsieur Monin had taken off his hat and was about to offer Madame Destival his arm; but she, divining his purpose, vanished by another path, and the little man, having lost sight of her, decided to betake himself alone to the dining-room; but first he cast a last tender glance at the plum tree.

They were seated at the table, and Monsieur de la Thoma.s.siniere was still in the study.

"Tell him that we are going to have luncheon," said Monsieur Destival, "and that we're only waiting for him."

Baptiste went up to the study and called through the door:

"Luncheon is served, monsieur."

"Very well, very well, I will come down," replied La Thoma.s.siniere, continuing to roll little b.a.l.l.s of paper; "I have only one more note to write."

The valet withdrew and reported the answer that was made to him.

"What a terrible man he is with his notes!" said Madame Destival; "doesn't he have a moment to himself, even in the country?"

"My husband?" replied the pet.i.te-maitresse; "why, my dear love, he's a most insufferable creature with his endless writing! He is never ready at meal-time; and even when we have twenty persons to dinner, which happens quite often, I have to send for him three or four times."

After making b.a.l.l.s of paper for another five minutes, Monsieur de la Thoma.s.siniere concluded at last to go down to the dining-room.

"I beg pardon, here I am! It wasn't my fault," he said as he took his seat; "you shouldn't have waited for me. You see, I happened to think about a certain speculation I am interested in.--Give me the wing of a chicken and a gla.s.s of claret; that is all I take in the morning.--Well, Athalie, have you devastated madame's flower garden?"

Athalie, who ate quite heartily for a pet.i.te-maitresse, answered with a laugh:

"I have been doing what I chose, monsieur; you know perfectly well that it doesn't concern you."

"That is true, madame, that is perfectly true. I supply the money, I pay the bills. Twelve hundred francs to a milliner seems a trifle expensive.

But madame must have the best there is."

"If you lose your temper, monsieur, the next bill will be twice as large."

"You know well enough, madame, that when it's a question of giving you money, I never have to be asked twice. When one is rich, that's perfectly natural; we must help the tradesmen to make money; isn't that so, Destival?"

"To be sure," replied his host, "I have the same feeling.--Well, what do you think of my claret? You don't say anything about it."

"It is very fair; but I have some better than this, oh! much better! I will give you some when you come to my house, and you'll see."

"And this cream--do you like it, madame?"

"Very much," replied the pet.i.te-maitresse. But Monsieur de la Thoma.s.siniere helped himself to three spoonfuls, saying:

"Let's taste the cream." Then he made a slight grimace and added: "Oh!

my estate is the place for fine dairy products! This can't be compared with it; it's an entirely different thing! And our fowls! ah! they are delicious. To be sure, they are fed with such care! Now you people think that you are eating something good when you eat a chicken like this.

Well, let me tell you that if you should see my poultry yard at Fleury, you would look on this as rubbish."

"It is very fortunate then that we know nothing about it," retorted Madame Destival, with a meaning glance at her husband. He, to change the subject of that pleasant conversation, turned to Monin, who had not said a word since he had been at the table, being engrossed by the second joint of a chicken, which he seasoned now and then with snuff, glancing occasionally with the eye of a connoisseur at a magnificent pie that stood in front of him, to which he seemed to be saying: "How's your health?"

"Your appet.i.te seems to be in good condition, neighbor?" said Destival.

"Yes, yes, it's the weather that does it. Do you take snuff?"

And Monin offered his box to Destival, then to La Thoma.s.siniere, who, after taking a tiny pinch, took from his pocket a gold snuff-box at which he gazed for some time with a complacent expression.

"This is Virginia," he said, "the very best snuff there is; it's very expensive, but I don't care for any other kind. Try it, monsieur."

Monin, who never declined a pinch of snuff, was about to partake of the Virginia, when they heard the wheels of a carriage entering the courtyard, and Julie hurried into the dining-room, saying:

"Here's Monsieur Dalville; his cabriolet has just come in."

Madame Destival smiled with satisfaction, and the pet.i.te-maitresse hastily ordered her plate to be changed, so that the debris of her repast might not be seen in front of her. Monsieur Destival ran out to receive his dear friend, and Monsieur de la Thoma.s.siniere thought: "This Dalville must be a millionaire, to have his arrival make such a sensation."

As for Monin, with his pinch of Virginia in one hand and his fork in the other, confused by the bustle caused by Dalville's arrival, he put a dainty piece of ham to his nose and the superfine snuff in his mouth. He discovered his mistake, however, and put each article in its proper place.

V

THE DRILL, THE SWING, THE STORM, AND THE MUSIC

Destival, having gone out to greet Dalville, looked about for him in vain; he saw n.o.body near the cabriolet save little Tony and Bertrand, the latter of whom gave him a military salute.

"Well! where is he? which way did he go in?" inquired Destival. Bertrand pa.s.sed his tongue over his lips and scratched his ear, seeking a suitable reply; at last he said in a firm voice:

"Monsieur Dalville will be here as soon as I am."

"But you seem to have got here before him; did he leave you on the way?"

"Yes, monsieur."

"Does he know anyone in the neighborhood?"

"It would seem so, monsieur."

"At all events, he is really coming; that's the main point."

Destival ran back to inform the ladies that his friend Dalville would soon be there; that he had stopped to see a friend, but that he could not be long.

"Why, I didn't know that he knew anyone in this vicinity," said Madame Destival in surprise.

"Mon Dieu! this gentleman keeps us on the anxious seat a long while,"

said the vivacious Athalie, leaving the table; while La Thoma.s.siniere, annoyed that a thought should be given to anybody but himself, paced the floor a few moments, then stamped violently, and put his hand to his forehead.

"Bless my soul!" he cried, "I had almost forgotten. What time is it? Not one yet? Is there a post office[A] anywhere near?"