The Bashful Lover Part 14

And to attain his object, Monsieur Gerondif for some time past had not failed to talk constantly of Paris while giving Cherubin his lessons; he drew a fascinating, enchanting picture of that city; he praised its theatres, its promenades, its monuments, and the innumerable pleasures which one finds there at every step.

Young Cherubin was beginning to listen to these observations. The idea of going to Paris terrified him less; and his tutor would say:

"At least, come and spend a little time in the capital, to see your mansion, the house of your fathers, it is all so close at hand, and we will come back at once."

But Louise always wept when she saw that Cherubin was on the point of consenting to go to Paris; she would take her playmate's hand and exclaim:

"If you go to Paris, I am very sure that you won't come back here again; you'll forget Gagny and those who live here."

Nicole said the same, as she lovingly embraced her foster-child, whereupon Cherubin would instantly cry out:

"No, no, I won't go, since it makes you feel sad; I am happy here, and I shall always stay here."

At that, Monsieur Gerondif would bite his lips, trying to smile; but in the depths of his heart, he consigned nurses and childhood friends to the devil.

As for Jasmin, when the professor reproached him for not seconding him and urging his young master to go to Paris, he would reply, with that air of good humor which was natural to him:

"What do you expect me to do about it? My dear monsieur le marquis has pa.s.sed his fifteenth birthday; he is his own master; he can do whatever he chooses; he can even dispose of his whole fortune, thirty thousand francs a year. But if it's his choice to remain with his nurse, I have no right to oppose him."

"When a man has such a handsome fortune as that, it's perfectly ridiculous for him to pa.s.s his best years out at nurse!" cried the tutor; "and then what good does it do my pupil to become learned, to learn so many useful things, if he continues to live with peasants?

Monsieur Jasmin, history offers no example of remarkable men who have remained at nurse until they were fifteen. It is all very well to love the woman who reared us, but _est medius in rebus_."

"Monsieur le professeur, I am not good at guessing rebuses; but I am my master's very humble servant, and I have no right to give him orders."

At Paris, too, Jasmin had frequent discussions with Mademoiselle Turlurette on the subject of his young master. The former lady's maid had become housekeeper; she had grown so stout, although she was not yet forty, that it was very difficult for her to walk from one room to another; that state of corpulence nailed her to her chair, and prevented her from going to see her young master at Gagny. And Jasmin was not at all anxious to take her with him, because he always feared that Mademoiselle Turlurette would usurp a part of his authority, which he did not propose to stand. The bulky housekeeper asked the old servant every day why their young master did not leave his nurse; and sometimes sharp quarrels arose between them on that subject; but Jasmin always put an end to them by saying in a morose tone:

"Mademoiselle, after all, I am the one that the late Monsieur le Marquis de Grandvilain intrusted with the care of his son; in fact, I have the right to turn you out of the house if I choose; so be kind enough to allow me to guide young Cherubin as I please."

Thereupon Turlurette held her peace, although she knew perfectly well that Jasmin was not capable of discharging her.

"A foster-child of sixteen years!" she would mutter between her teeth; "that's a funny thing!"

Things were at this point when a servant appeared at the hotel de Grandvilain one morning, asked for Jasmin, and told him that the late monsieur le marquis's notary desired him to call at his office during the day, because it was very important that he should speak with him.

The old valet wondered what the notary could have to say to him; then he remembered that his young master had long since pa.s.sed his fifteenth birthday, and that that was the time that his father had desired that he should be put in possession of his fortune. All this worried Jasmin, who said to himself:

"Thirty thousand francs a year, to say nothing of the additions due to the savings that I have made in fourteen years! It is a fact that it would be a pity to waste that at his foster-father's. But still, if Monsieur Cherubin insists on staying with Nicole, I can't use violence to compel him to return to Paris, for after all, he is his own master."

Jasmin decided to comply with the notary's wish. He put on his best coat, pulled a bit of his ruff out beneath his waistcoat, donned his silver buckled shoes, although they had long since ceased to be in style, and in that garb, worthy of the confidential valet of a great family, he betook himself to the office of Monsieur d'Hurbain, the notary.

When Jasmin appeared at the office, the notary was not alone; two persons were with him.

One of them, by name Edouard de Monfreville, was a man apparently thirty-six or thirty-seven years of age, who still had the bearing, the manners and all the dandified aspect of a young man. He was tall, well-built, as slender as if he were but twenty, and wore with much grace the costume of a young exquisite. His face was handsome and attractive at the same time; his features were regular, and his brown hair of a fineness and gloss which a lady might have envied; but in his great eyes, which were black and piercing, one could read sometimes a mocking expression which harmonized perfectly with the faint smile that played about his mouth; and upon his brow, which like his face bore signs of weariness, there were lines which indicated that ennui and grief had pa.s.sed that way.

The other person was a man of twenty-eight, a faded blond, with a very fair complexion, light-blue eyes, a nose with dilated nostrils, and a large mouth with thick lips. That a.s.semblage of features did not make what could be called a handsome man; but his face exhibited a constant succession of expressions which enlivened it wonderfully; it was a combination of gayety, raillery, cunning, libertinage, indifference, and shrewdness, all accompanied by most distinguished manners; and although his costume was a long way from the elegance of Monsieur de Monfreville's, and although, in fact, certain parts of his dress were too much neglected, he wore his soiled and shabby coat with so much ease of manner, he held his head so straight in his faded cravat, that it was impossible not to recognize in him a man of birth. His name was Comte Virgile Darena.

When a clerk entered the private office and announced that old Jasmin had obeyed the summons that he had received, Darena burst out laughing.

"Jasmin!" he said; "who in the devil can have such a name as Jasmin? Can it be, my dear notary, that you have clients named Jasmin? Why, that name is only fit for a stage servant!"

"No, Monsieur Darena," replied the notary, with a smile, "this man is a servant in a most excellent family; he is one of that race of old retainers such as we used to see; unfortunately the race is almost extinct in our day."

"Ah! he must be an amusing character; an old groom, eh, Monfreville?"

The person to whom this question was addressed barely smiled as he replied:

"I don't see what there is so amusing in all this!"

"Oh! nothing amuses you when you are in one of your _days of humor_, as the English say.--Well, tell me, will you buy my little house in Faubourg Saint-Antoine? I will sell it to you for thirty thousand francs."

"No, I should blush to accept such an offer. Your house is worth nearly twice that, and I do not care to take advantage of your need of money to buy it at a low price."

"Oh! mon Dieu! that isn't the question at all! If the bargain is satisfactory to me, why shouldn't you take advantage of it? I make you the offer before a notary, and it seems to me that your conscience should be tranquil. I don't like the house; it is occupied by water carriers, Savoyards, the commonest of the common people! What the devil do you suppose I can do with it? They move without paying, or else they stay and don't pay; they insult whoever goes to ask them for money, or they threaten to beat you! Such tenants are delightful!"

"But you have a princ.i.p.al tenant who looks after all those details."

"No, no, I tell you that I want to sell, that is the quickest way out of it; it's too much of a nuisance to me! And then, there's another inconvenience: if I have among my tenants a pretty grisette or two, or a pretty face, why, you understand--I give them a receipt after obtaining, not their money, but something else. Upon my honor, I am not fitted for a landlord, my heart is too susceptible!"

"You are arranging your affairs in such a way that you won't be a landlord much longer," said the notary, shaking his head, "you are not reasonable, Monsieur Darena. Only six years ago your father left you a very pretty fortune!"

"Of which I have nothing left but the little house that I want to sell,"

said Darena, laughingly. "Well, that is the fate of all fortunes; they vanish, but one constructs another! I am never disturbed, for my part!--Well, Monfreville won't take my house, and so Monsieur d'Hurbain must sell it for me. But pray admit your old Jasmin! I am curious to see this fossil!"

"In whose service is this model retainer?" asked Monfreville.

"He was in the service of Monsieur le Marquis de Grandvilain, who died ten or eleven years ago."

"The Marquis de Grandvilain!" cried Darena, throwing himself into a chair and laughing until the tears came. "What delicious names they have!"

"Grandvilain!" muttered Monfreville, "why, I knew the old marquis; my father was a friend of his. He used often to speak of a party at his house, of a display of fireworks to celebrate the birth of a son; of a frying-pan that was thrown into the air, and of saucepan covers that wounded several people."

"Nonsense! nonsense! it is impossible! Monfreville is making fun of us!"

said Darena, stretching himself out in his chair.

"It is all true," replied the notary; "what Monsieur de Monfreville says really happened. But the Marquis de Grandvilain is dead, and so is his wife; n.o.body is left now of the old family except a son, who is sixteen years and a half old, and who already has more than thirty thousand francs a year; I manage his property. But his father, obeying a whim, a most incredible piece of folly, provided that at fifteen years his son was to have control of his whole fortune, and he left him no guardian except old Jasmin, his valet de chambre."

Darena straightened up in his chair and a.s.sumed a singular expression, as he exclaimed:

"Thirty thousand francs a year at fifteen! That deserves consideration."

"Was the poor old marquis mad?" asked Monfreville.

"No, but he was very old when the child was born, and he wished him to be his own master early in life."

"Pardi! that doesn't strike me as so foolish, after all!" said Darena.

"In fact, why shouldn't one be reasonable at fifteen, when one is so far from it at sixty? But how does the heir manage his fortune? He is consuming it doubtless in cakes and _marrons glaces?_"

"Thank heaven, so far as I know, he has given his time thus far only to his rhetoric and the humanities. But it was with a view to learning something about him that I sent for the faithful Jasmin. With your permission I will have him come in."