A suppressed giggle was heard, but Abbe Picot, the
natural enemy of civil authority, cried: “You
mean of Cana.” The other did not accept
the correction. “No, monsieur le cure, I
know what I am talking about; when I say Ganache,
I mean Ganache.”
They rose from table and went into the drawing-room,
and then outside to mix with the merrymakers.
The guests soon left.
They went into the house. They were surprised
to see Madame Adelaide sobbing on Julien’s shoulder.
Her tears, noisy tears, as if blown out by a pair
of bellows, seemed to come from her nose, her mouth
and her eyes at the same time; and the young man,
dumfounded, awkward, was supporting the heavy woman
who had sunk into his arms to commend to his care
her darling, her little one, her adored daughter.
The baron rushed toward them, saying: “Oh,
no scenes, no tears, I beg of you,” and, taking
his wife to a chair, he made her sit down, while she
wiped away her tears. Then, turning to Jeanne:
“Come, little one, kiss your mother and go to
bed.”
What happened then? She could hardly have told,
for she seemed to have lost her head, but she felt
a shower of little grateful kisses on her lips.
Day dawned. Julien awoke, yawned, stretched,
looked at his wife, smiled and asked: “Did
you sleep well, darling?”
She noticed that he now said “thou,” and
she replied, bewildered, “Why, yes. And
you?” “Oh, very well,” he answered.
And turning toward her, he kissed her and then began
to chat quietly. He set before her plans of living,
with the idea of economy, and this word occurring
several times, astonished Jeanne. She listened
without grasping the meaning of his words, looked
at him, but was thinking of a thousand things that
passed rapidly through her mind hardly leaving a trace.
The clock struck eight. “Come, we must
get up,” he said. “It would look
ridiculous for us to be late.” When he was
dressed he assisted his wife with all the little details
of her toilet, not allowing her to call Rosalie.
As they left the room he stopped. “You know,
when we are alone, we can now use ‘thou,’
but before your parents it is better to wait a while.
It will be quite natural when we come back from our
wedding journey.”
She did not go down till luncheon was ready.
The day passed like any ordinary day, as if nothing
new had occurred. There was one man more in the
house, that was all.
* * * *
*
CORSICA AND A NEW LIFE
Four days later the travelling carriage arrived that
was to take them to Marseilles.
After the first night Jeanne had become accustomed
to Julien’s kisses and caresses, although her
repugnance to a closer intimacy had not diminished.
She thought him handsome, she loved him. She again
felt happy and cheerful.
The farewells were short and without sadness.
The baroness alone seemed tearful. As the carriage
was just starting she placed a purse, heavy as lead,
in her daughter’s hand, saying, “That is
for your little expenses as a bride.”
