She smiled, and kissed his cheek, and still held his
hand. ‘Adrian,’ she said.
‘My love?’
’As I believe in the dear Jesus, I will do my
best to be a good wife to you.’ Then he
took her in his arms, and kissed her close, and went
out of the room with tears streaming down his cheeks.
He knew now that he was in truth a happy man, and
that God had been good to him in this matter of his
future wife.
’So your cousin Marie is to be married to Adrian
Urmand, the young linen-merchant at Basle,’
said Madame Faragon one morning to George Voss.
In this manner were the first assured tidings of the
coming marriage conveyed to the rival lover.
This occurred a day or two after the betrothal, when
Adrian was back at Basle. No one at Granpere
had thought of writing an express letter to George
on the subject. George’s father might
have done so, had the writing of letters been a customary
thing with him; but his correspondence was not numerous,
and such letters as he did write were short, and always
confined to matters concerning his trade. Madame
Voss had, however, sent a special message to Madame
Faragon, as soon as Adrian had gone, thinking that
it would be well that in this way George should learn
the truth.
It had been fully arranged by this time that George
Voss was to be the landlord of the hotel at Colmar
on and from the first day of the following year.
Madame Faragon was to be allowed to sit in the little
room downstairs, to scold the servants, and to make
the strangers from a distance believe that her authority
was unimpaired. She was also to receive a moderate
annual pension in money in addition to her board and
lodging. For these considerations, and on condition
that George Voss should expend a certain sum of money
in renewing the faded glories of the house, he was
to be the landlord in full enjoyment of all real power
on the first of January following. Madame Faragon,
when she had expressed her agreement to the arrangement,
which was indeed almost in all respects one of her
own creation, wept and wheezed and groaned bitterly.
She declared that she would soon be dead, and so
trouble him no more. Nevertheless, she especially
stipulated that she should have a new arm-chair for
her own use, and that the feather bed in her own chamber
should be renewed.
’So your cousin Marie is to be married to Adrian
Urmand, the young linen-merchant at Basle,’
said Madame Faragon.
‘Who says so?’ demanded George.
He asked his question in a quiet voice; but, though
the news had reached him thus suddenly, he had sufficient
control over himself to prevent any plain expression
of his feelings. The thing which had been told
him had gone into his heart like a knife; but he did
not intend that Madame Faragon should know that he
had been wounded.
