Chapter 13
"You have come almost as quickly as we," said Prudence.
"Yes," I answered mechanically. "Where is Marguerite?"
"At home."
"Alone?"
"With M. de G."
I walked to and fro in the room.
"Well, what is the matter?"
"Do you think it amuses me to wait here till M. de G. leavesMarguerite's?"
"How unreasonable you are! Don't you see that Marguerite can't turn thecount out of doors? M. de G. has been with her for a long time; he hasalways given her a lot of money; he still does. Marguerite spends morethan a hundred thousand francs a year; she has heaps of debts. The dukegives her all that she asks for, but she does not always venture to askhim for all that she is in want of. It would never do for her to quarrelwith the count, who is worth to her at least ten thousand francs a year.Marguerite is very fond of you, my dear fellow, but your liaison withher, in her interests and in yours, ought not to be serious. You withyour seven or eight thousand francs a year, what could you do towardsupplying all the luxuries which a girl like that is in need of? Itwould not be enough to keep her carriage. Take Marguerite for whatshe is, for a good, bright, pretty girl; be her lover for a month, twomonths; give her flowers, sweets, boxes at the theatre; but don'tget any other ideas into your head, and don't make absurd scenes ofjealousy. You know whom you have to do with; Marguerite isn't a saint.She likes you, you are very fond of her; let the rest alone. You amazeme when I see you so touchy; you have the most charming mistress inParis. She receives you in the greatest style, she is covered withdiamonds, she needn't cost you a penny, unless you like, and you are notsatisfied. My dear fellow, you ask too much!"
"You are right, but I can't help it; the idea that that man is her loverhurts me horribly."
"In the first place," replied Prudence; "is he still her lover? He is aman who is useful to her, nothing more. She has closed her doors to himfor two days; he came this morning--she could not but accept the box andlet him accompany her. He saw her home; he has gone in for a moment, heis not staying, because you are waiting here. All that, it seems to me,is quite natural. Besides, you don't mind the duke."
"Yes; but he is an old man, and I am sure that Marguerite is not hismistress. Then, it is all very well to accept one liaison, but not two.Such easiness in the matter is very like calculation, and puts the manwho consents to it, even out of love, very much in the category of thosewho, in a lower stage of society, make a trade of their connivance, anda profit of their trade."
"Ah, my dear fellow, how old-fashioned you are! How many of the richestand most fashionable men of the best families I have seen quite readyto do what I advise you to do, and without an effort, without shame,without remorse, Why, one sees it every day. How do you suppose the keptwomen in Paris could live in the style they do, if they had not three orfour lovers at once? No single fortune, however large, could sufficefor the expenses of a woman like Marguerite. A fortune of five hundredthousand francs a year is, in France, an enormous fortune; well, my dearfriend, five hundred thousand francs a year would still be too little,and for this reason: a man with such an income has a large house,horses, servants, carriages; he shoots, has friends, often he ismarried, he has children, he races, gambles, travels, and what not. Allthese habits are so much a part of his position that he can not foregothem without appearing to have lost all his money, and without causingscandal. Taking it all round, with five hundred thousand francs a yearhe can not give a woman more than forty or fifty thousand francs in theyear, and that is already a good deal. Well, other lovers make up forthe rest of her expenses. With Marguerite, it is still more convenient;she has chanced by a miracle on an old man worth ten millions, whosewife and daughter are dead; who has only some nephews, themselves rich,and who gives her all she wants without asking anything in return. Butshe can not ask him for more than seventy thousand francs a year; andI am sure that if she did ask for more, despite his health and theaffection he has for her he would not give it to her.
"All the young men of twenty or thirty thousand francs a year at Paris,that is to say, men who have only just enough to live on in the societyin which they mix, know perfectly well, when they are the lovers of awoman like Marguerite, that she could not so much as pay for the roomsshe lives in and the servants who wait upon her with what they giveher. They do not say to her that they know it; they pretend not to seeanything, and when they have had enough of it they go their way. If theyhave the vanity to wish to pay for everything they get ruined, like thefools they are, and go and get killed in Africa, after leaving a hundredthousand francs of debt in Paris. Do you think a woman is gratefulto them for it? Far from it. She declares that she has sacrificed herposition for them, and that while she was with them she was losingmoney. These details seem to you shocking? Well, they are true. You area very nice fellow; I like you very much. I have lived with these womenfor twenty years; I know what they are worth, and I don't want to seeyou take the caprice that a pretty girl has for you too seriously.
"Then, besides that," continued Prudence; "admit that Marguerite lovesyou enough to give up the count or the duke, in case one of them were todiscover your liaison and to tell her to choose between him and you,the sacrifice that she would make for you would be enormous, you can notdeny it. What equal sacrifice could you make for her, on your part, andwhen you had got tired of her, what could you do to make up for what youhad taken from her? Nothing. You would have cut her off from the worldin which her fortune and her future were to be found; she would havegiven you her best years, and she would be forgotten. Either you wouldbe an ordinary man, and, casting her past in her teeth, you would leaveher, telling her that you were only doing like her other lovers, and youwould abandon her to certain misery; or you would be an honest man, and,feeling bound to keep her by you, you would bring inevitable troubleupon yourself, for a liaison which is excusable in a young man, is nolonger excusable in a man of middle age. It becomes an obstacle to everything; it allows neither family nor ambition, man's second and lastloves. Believe me, then, my friend, take things for what they are worth,and do not give a kept woman the right to call herself your creditor, nomatter in what."
It was well argued, with a logic of which I should have thought Prudenceincapable. I had nothing to reply, except that she was right; I took herhand and thanked her for her counsels.
"Come, come," said she, "put these foolish theories to flight, andlaugh over them. Life is pleasant, my dear fellow; it all depends on thecolour of the glass through which one sees it. Ask your friend Gastonthere's a man who seems to me to understand love as I understand it. Allthat you need think of, unless you are quite a fool, is that close bythere is a beautiful girl who is waiting impatiently for the man who iswith her to go, thinking of you, keeping the whole night for you, andwho loves you, I am certain. Now, come to the window with me, and let uswatch for the count to go; he won't be long in leaving the coast clear."
Prudence opened the window, and we leaned side by side over the balcony.She watched the few passers, I reflected. All that she had said buzzedin my head, and I could not help feeling that she was right; butthe genuine love which I had for Marguerite had some difficulty inaccommodating itself to such a belief. I sighed from time to time, atwhich Prudence turned, and shrugged her shoulders like a physician whohas given up his patient.
"How one realizes the shortness of life," I said to myself, "by therapidity of sensations! I have only known Marguerite for two days,she has only been my mistress since yesterday, and she has already socompletely absorbed my thoughts, my heart, and my life that the visit ofthe Comte de G. is a misfortune for me."
At last the count came out, got into his carriage and disappeared.Prudence closed the window. At the same instant Marguerite called to us:
"Come at once," she said; "they are laying the table, and we'll havesupper."
When I entered, Marguerite ran to me, threw her arms around my neck andkissed me with all her might.
"Are we
still sulky?" she said to me.
"No, it is all over," replied Prudence. "I have given him a talking to,and he has promised to be reasonable."
"Well and good."
In spite of myself I glanced at the bed; it was not unmade. As forMarguerite, she was already in her white dressing-gown. We sat down totable.
Charm, sweetness, spontaneity, Marguerite had them all, and I was forcedfrom time to time to admit that I had no right to ask of her anythingelse; that many people would be very happy to be in my place; and that,like Virgil's shepherd, I had only to enjoy the pleasures that a god, orrather a goddess, set before me.
I tried to put in practice the theories of Prudence, and to be as gayas my two companions; but what was natural in them was on my part aneffort, and the nervous laughter, whose source they did not detect, wasnearer to tears than to mirth.
At last the supper was over and I was alone with Marguerite. She satdown as usual on the hearthrug before the fire and gazed sadly into theflames. What was she thinking of? I know not. As for me, I looked at herwith a mingling of love and terror, as I thought of all that I was readyto suffer for her sake.
"Do you know what I am thinking of?"
"No."
"Of a plan that has come into my head."
"And what is this plan?"
"I can't tell you yet, but I can tell you what the result would be. Theresult would be that in a month I should be free, I should have no moredebts, and we could go and spend the summer in the country."
"And you can't tell me by what means?"
"No, only love me as I love you, and all will succeed."
"And have you made this plan all by yourself?"
"Yes."
"And you will carry it out all by yourself?"
"I alone shall have the trouble of it," said Marguerite, with a smilewhich I shall never forget, "but we shall both partake its benefits."
I could not help flushing at the word benefits; I thought of ManonLescaut squandering with Desgrieux the money of M. de B.
I replied in a hard voice, rising from my seat:
"You must permit me, my dear Marguerite, to share only the benefits ofthose enterprises which I have conceived and carried out myself."
"What does that mean?"
"It means that I have a strong suspicion that M. de G. is to be yourassociate in this pretty plan, of which I can accept neither the costnor the benefits."
"What a child you are! I thought you loved me. I was mistaken; allright."
She rose, opened the piano and began to play the "Invitation a la Valse",as far as the famous passage in the major which always stopped her. Wasit through force of habit, or was it to remind me of the day when wefirst met? All I know is that the melody brought back that recollection,and, coming up to her, I took her head between my hands and kissed her."You forgive me?" I said.
"You see I do," she answered; "but observe that we are only at oursecond day, and already I have had to forgive you something. Is this howyou keep your promise of blind obedience?"
"What can I do, Marguerite? I love you too much and I am jealous of theleast of your thoughts. What you proposed to me just now made me franticwith delight, but the mystery in its carrying out hurts me dreadfully."
"Come, let us reason it out," she said, taking both my hands and lookingat me with a charming smile which it was impossible to resist, "You loveme, do you not? and you would gladly spend two or three months alonewith me in the country? I too should be glad of this solitude a deux,and not only glad of it, but my health requires it. I can not leaveParis for such a length of time without putting my affairs in order, andthe affairs of a woman like me are always in great confusion well, Ihave found a way to reconcile everything, my money affairs and my lovefor you; yes, for you, don't laugh; I am silly enough to love you! Andhere you are taking lordly airs and talking big words. Child, thricechild, only remember that I love you, and don't let anything disturbyou. Now, is it agreed?"
"I agree to all you wish, as you know."
"Then, in less than a month's time we shall be in some village,walking by the river side, and drinking milk. Does it seem strangethat Marguerite Gautier should speak to you like that? The fact is,my friend, that when this Paris life, which seems to make me so happy,doesn't burn me, it wearies me, and then I have sudden aspirationstoward a calmer existence which might recall my childhood. One hasalways had a childhood, whatever one becomes. Don't be alarmed; I am notgoing to tell you that I am the daughter of a colonel on half-pay, andthat I was brought up at Saint-Denis. I am a poor country girl, and sixyears ago I could not write my own name. You are relieved, aren't you?Why is it you are the first whom I have ever asked to share the joyof this desire of mine? I suppose because I feel that you love me formyself and not for yourself, while all the others have only loved me forthemselves.
"I have often been in the country, but never as I should like to gothere. I count on you for this easy happiness; do not be unkind, letme have it. Say this to yourself: 'She will never live to be old, and Ishould some day be sorry for not having done for her the first thing sheasked of me, such an easy thing to do!'"
What could I reply to such words, especially with the memory of a firstnight of love, and in the expectation of a second?
An hour later I held Marguerite in my arms, and, if she had asked me tocommit a crime, I would have obeyed her.
At six in the morning I left her, and before leaving her I said: "Tillto-night!" She kissed me more warmly than ever, but said nothing.
During the day I received a note containing these words:
"DEAR CHILD: I am not very well, and the doctor has ordered quiet. Ishall go to bed early to-night and shall not see you. But, to make up, Ishall expect you to-morrow at twelve. I love you."
My first thought was: She is deceiving me!
A cold sweat broke out on my forehead, for I already loved this womantoo much not to be overwhelmed by the suspicion. And yet, I was bound toexpect such a thing almost any day with Marguerite, and it had happenedto me often enough with my other mistresses, without my taking muchnotice of it. What was the meaning of the hold which this woman hadtaken upon my life?
Then it occurred to me, since I had the key, to go and see her as usual.In this way I should soon know the truth, and if I found a man there Iwould strike him in the face.
Meanwhile I went to the Champs-Elysees. I waited there four hours. Shedid not appear. At night I went into all the theatres where she wasaccustomed to go. She was in none of them.
At eleven o'clock I went to the Rue d'Antin. There was no light inMarguerite's windows. All the same, I rang. The porter asked me where Iwas going.
"To Mlle. Gautier's," I said.
"She has not come in."
"I will go up and wait for her."
"There is no one there."
Evidently I could get in, since I had the key, but, fearing foolishscandal, I went away. Only I did not return home; I could not leave thestreet, and I never took my eyes off Marguerite's house. It seemed tome that there was still something to be found out, or at least that mysuspicions were about to be confirmed.
About midnight a carriage that I knew well stopped before No. 9. TheComte de G. got down and entered the house, after sending away thecarriage. For a moment I hoped that the same answer would be given tohim as to me, and that I should see him come out; but at four o'clock inthe morning I was still awaiting him.
I have suffered deeply during these last three weeks, but that isnothing, I think, in comparison with what I suffered that night.