White Lies Part 18

"Well, love," said Josephine, "you know our mother will relieve me of this; what a comfort to have a mother!"

They waited for Raynal's departure, to go to the baroness. They had to wait a long time. Moreover, when he did leave the chateau he came straight into the Pleasaunce. At sight of him Rose seized Josephine tight and bade her hold her tongue, as she could not say "no" plump to any one. Josephine was far from raising any objection to the arrangement.

"Monsieur," said Rose, before he could get a word out, "even if she had not declined, I could not consent."

Raynal tapped his forehead reflectively, and drew forth from memory that he had no instructions whatever to ask HER consent.

She colored high, but returned to the charge.

"Is her own consent to be dispensed with too? She declined the honor, did she not?"

"Of course she did; but this was antic.i.p.ated in my instructions. I am to be sure and not take the first two or three refusals."

"O Josephine, look at that insolent boy: he has found you out."

"Insolent boy!" cried Raynal; "why, it is the referee of your own choosing, and as well behaved a lad as ever I saw, and a zealous officer."

"My kind friends," put in Josephine with a sweet languor, "I cannot let you quarrel about a straw."

"It is not about a straw," said Raynal, "it is about you."

"The distinction involves a compliment, sir," said Josephine; then she turned to Rose, "Is it possible you do not see Monsieur Raynal's strange proposal in its true light? and you so shrewd in general. He has no personal feeling whatever in this eccentric proceeding: he wants to make us all happy, especially my mother, without seeming to lay us under too great an obligation. Surely good-nature was never carried so far before; ha, ha! Monsieur, I will enc.u.mber you with my friends.h.i.+p forever, if you permit me, but farther than that I will not abuse your generosity."

"Now look here, mademoiselle," began Raynal bluntly, "I did start with a good motive at first, that there's no denying. But, since I have been every day in your company, and seen how good and kind you are to all about you, I have turned selfish; and I say to myself, what a comfort such a wife as you would be to a soldier! Why, only to have you to write letters home to, would be worth half a fellow's pay. Do you know sometimes when I see the fellows writing their letters it gives me a knock here to think I have no one at all to write to."

Josephine sighed.

"So you see I am not so mighty disinterested. Now, mademoiselle, you speak so charmingly, I can't tell what you mean: can't tell whether you say 'no' because you could never like me, or whether it is out of delicacy, and you only want pressing. So I say no more at present: it is a standing offer. Take a day to consider. Take two if you like. I must go to the barracks; good-day."

"Oh! this must be put an end to at once," said Rose.

"With all my heart," replied Josephine; "but how?"

"Come to our mother, and settle that," said the impetuous sister, and nearly dragged the languid one into the drawing-room.

To their surprise they found the baroness walking up and down the room with unusual alacrity for a person of her years. She no sooner caught sight of Josephine than she threw her arms open to her with joyful vivacity, and kissed her warmly. "My love, you have saved us. I am a happy old woman. If I had all France to pick from I could not have found a man so worthy of my Josephine. He is brave, he is handsome, he is young, he is a rising man, he is a good son, and good sons make good husbands--and--I shall die at Beaurepaire, shall I not, Madame the Commandante?"

Josephine held her mother round the neck, but never spoke. After a silence she held her tighter, and cried a little.

"What is it?" asked the baroness confidentially of Rose, but without showing any very profound concern.

"Mamma! mamma! she does not love him."

"Love him? She would be no daughter of mine if she loved a man at sight.

A modest woman loves her husband only."

"But she scarcely knows Monsieur Raynal."

"She knows more of him than I knew of your father when I married him.

She knows his virtues and appreciates them. I have heard her, have I not, love? Esteem soon ripens into love when they are once fairly married."

"Mother, does her silence then tell you nothing? Her tears--are they nothing to you?"

"Silly child! These are tears that do not scald. The sweet soul weeps because she now for the first time sees she will have to leave her mother. Alas! my eldest, it is inevitable. Mothers are not immortal.

While they are here it is their duty to choose good husbands for their daughters. My youngest, I believe, has chosen for herself--like the nation. But for my eldest I choose. We shall see which chooses the best.

Meantime we stay at Beaurepaire, thanks to my treasure here."

"Josephine! Josephine! you don't say one word," cried Rose in dismay.

"What CAN I say? I love my mother and I love you. You draw me different ways. I want you to be both happy."

"Then if you will not speak out I must. Mother, do not deceive yourself: it is duty alone that keeps her silent: this match is odious to her."

"Then we are ruined. Josephine, is this match odious to you?"

"Not exactly odious: but I am very, very indifferent."

"There!" cried Rose triumphantly.

"There!" cried the baroness in the same breath, triumphantly. "She esteems his character; but his person is indifferent to her: in other words, she is a modest girl, and my daughter; and let me tell you, Rose, that but for the misfortunes of our house, both my daughters would be married as I was, without knowing half as much of their husbands as Josephine knows of this brave, honest, generous, filial gentleman."

"Well, then, since she will not speak out, I will. Pity me: I love her so. If this stranger, whom she does not love, takes her away from us, he will kill me. I shall die; oh!"

Josephine left her mother and went to console Rose.

The baroness lost her temper at this last stroke of opposition. "Now the truth comes out, Rose; this is selfishness. Do not deceive YOURself--selfishness!"

"Mamma!"

"You are only waiting to leave me yourself. Yet your eldest sister, forsooth, must be kept here for you,--till then." She added more gently, "Let me advise you to retire to your own room, and examine your heart fairly. You will find there is a strong dash of egoism in all this."

"If I do"--

"You will retract your opposition."

"My heart won't let me; but I will despise myself, and be silent."

And the young lady, who had dried her eyes the moment she was accused of selfishness, walked, head erect, from the room. Josephine cast a deprecating glance at her mother. "Yes, my angel!" said the latter, "I was harsh. But we are no longer of one mind, and I suppose never shall be again."

"Oh, yes, we shall. Be patient! Mother--you shall not leave Beaurepaire."

The baroness colored faintly at these four last words of her daughter, and hung her head.

Josephine saw that, and darted to her and covered her with kisses.

That day the doctor scolded them both. "You have put your mother into a high fever," said he; "here's a pulse; I do wish you would be more considerate."

The commandant did not come to dinner as usual. The evening pa.s.sed heavily; their hearts were full of uncertainty.