Part 11 (1/2)

V

LOVE AGAIN

I went next day to visit my neighbor on the fifth floor and found her alone with her lover; the midwife was no longer there; Ernest had taken her place, no less from inclination than from necessity; for the lovers were happier not to have a third person with them all day, and what would be a privation to others is a satisfaction to lovers.

Ernest was seated beside his friend's bed; I was afraid that I was in the way, and I intended to remain only a moment, but my visit lasted more than an hour. ”Pray don't go yet,” they said every time that I rose to take my leave. Why was it that the time pa.s.sed so quickly, that we got along so well together? It was because we all three allowed our real sentiments to appear, because we talked freely of the things that interested us, and because we poured out our hearts without reserve.

Marguerite spoke of the child that she hoped for, and her eyes, fastened on Ernest's, seemed to say to him:

”We can make up for this lost time, can we not?”

Ernest smiled and spoke encouragingly to her; then talked about his two plays that had been accepted; they were his children, too. For my part, I talked to them of the theatre, b.a.l.l.s, and love-affairs. I told them, without mentioning any names, the adventure of Belan and Helene. That made them laugh heartily. I was not aware that I spoke with more interest of Mademoiselle Dumeillan than of others; but when I mentioned her name, I noticed that Mademoiselle Marguerite smiled and that Ernest did the same.

At last, after one of my anecdotes, Ernest said to me:

”My dear Monsieur Blemont, I should say that you were in love.”

”In love! I! with whom, pray?”

”Parbleu! with the fair-haired young lady who talks so well, who plays the piano so charmingly, who has such a sweet expression.”

”What! Have I said so to you?”

”No, but we guessed it from the way in which you talked of her; didn't we, Marguerite?”

”Yes, yes; you are certainly in love with the young lady in pink.”

”Oh! I give you my word that----”

”Don't swear, monsieur; you would not tell the truth.”

”Mademoiselle Eugenie is very pretty, it is true; but I hardly know her.”

”Acquaintance is easily made.”

”I do not know whether those ladies would care to receive me. By the way, what you say suggests to me the idea of going to see Monsieur Giraud and talking with him about it. Perhaps he won't be fussing over his lamps to-day. I think that I will go there; I will lead the conversation to the subject of those ladies, as if unpremeditated.”

”That is right: go; then you must come back and tell us how you progress.”

I confess that the devoted love of those two young people made me long to enjoy a similar happiness. Perhaps the thought of the charming Eugenie had much influence upon my reflections. I was twenty-six years old, and I was already weary of commonplace love-affairs. Still it is very amusing to have three or four mistresses and to deceive them all, at the same time; to have them make a row, follow you, watch you, threaten you, and become more pa.s.sionately enamored of you with each infidelity. And the poor husbands that you make--Oh! they are most amusing too! But amid all such enjoyments, it seemed to me that my heart was sometimes conscious of a void. Did not Ernest and Marguerite enjoy a more genuine happiness than I? I did not know, but I proposed to try it and find out.

I had eight thousand francs a year. That is not a fortune, but it is a competence. Moreover, I had gone through the regular course of study and had been admitted to be an advocate; that was something; to be sure, I had not tried many cases since I had been ent.i.tled to wear the gown.

Pleasure had too often diverted my thoughts from my profession; but if I married, I should be more virtuous; indeed, I should have to be.

My father was dead; he also had been at the bar. He left me an honorable name, which I made it my pride to keep without stain; for one may have three or four mistresses at once without impairing one's honor; especially when one has neither violence nor seduction with which to reproach oneself; and G.o.d be praised! we live in an age when it is easy to make love without resorting to such methods. I know very well that it is not strictly moral to deceive husbands. But example is so contagious! and then there are so many of those gentry who neglect their wives! Is it not natural to console them?

My mother, who pa.s.sed her summers in the country, and her winters in Paris at a whist table, would certainly be very glad to have me married; she had three thousand francs a year which would come to me some day; but I never thought of that; when one loves one's parents, one must always hope that they will not die.

I indulged in these reflections, I could not say why. After all, I had no purpose of marrying, or at all events of entering into one of those marriages which are arranged beforehand by parents or friends. If I married, I should have to be very deeply in love, and to be absolutely certain that I was dearly loved in return.