Le Cocu Part 21

I had hoped that the breakfast would be at a restaurant; but we were bidden to return to the mother-in-law's. That certainly required courage. Eugenie and I looked at each other, vowing, albeit a little late, that we would never be caught in such a sc.r.a.pe again.

The bridegroom went ahead, doubtless to have his rose leaves swept away.

I was sure that he would do the sweeping himself rather than expose himself to his mother-in-law's wrath.

A long table was laid in the dining-room. We took our seats; I was between the old aunt with a nose like a snail's sh.e.l.l and the tall cousin who had fallen so hard on the stairway; my wife was a mile away from me, between two old uncles with lace cuffs and curly wigs. How we were likely to enjoy ourselves!

I expected to see Giraud and his wife at the breakfast, for Giraud had been declaring everywhere that it was he who had arranged Belan's marriage. But evidently the mother-in-law had not deemed them worthy of that honor, and we should not see them until evening.

The bride kept her eyes on the floor and did not eat. The mother-in-law looked at her daughter, wiped her eyes, and seemed not to realize that there was anybody there. We sat at the table two minutes without touching anything, no one having been requested to serve. Belan, uncertain whether he was expected to do the honors, glanced at his wife and his mother-in-law in turn, and faltered:

"Who is to serve? Does Madame de Beausire desire me to serve?"

But Madame de Beausire replied only by blowing her nose and sighing.

I looked at my wife; I had such a mad desire to laugh that I dropped my knife and fork on the floor, so that I might indulge it a little while fumbling under the table. I chose to be considered awkward rather than discourteous.

At last an old uncle, who had not come to the wedding simply to look at the dishes, although that would have been more dignified than to eat them, drew an enormous pie toward him and gave the signal for the attack. We decided to breakfast, notwithstanding Madame de Beausire's sighs; but we did it with a decorum and gravity which were interrupted only by the noise of the plates and the forks.

When the first edge of the appet.i.te was dulled, some of the uncles and cousins were pleased to indulge in various significant phrases, dwelling upon every word they uttered, as if they considered that necessary in order that we should understand them. Belan put in a word here and there, but it was not noticed. I discovered that he was trying to lead the conversation around to the subject of poetry. I felt certain that he had written some, or had had some written, and that he did not know how to set to work to recite it. Whenever he reached the subject, an uncle or an aunt would cut him short by speaking of something else. I felt sorry for him and said:

"My dear Belan, has anyone written any poetry for your wedding?"

"Yes, just so; I myself have dashed off something in honor of this day, and with your permission, I will----"

"What! do you mean to say that you are going to sing, Monsieur de Belan?" cried Madame de Beausire, with an almost threatening glance at her son-in-law. "For shame, monsieur! what sort of people have you lived with, where it was customary to sing at the table?"

"I never had any idea of singing, mother-in-law; nor have I any desire to. I meant simply to recite some verses,--verses which do not in the least degree resemble a song."

"Verses at a wedding! You should leave that to the Almanach des Muses,"

said the tall cousin, who sat beside me, and who still bore the groom a grudge on account of his fall on the stairs. At the same instant Madame de Beausire shrieked aloud:

"You are pale, Armide! Don't you feel well, my child?"

I had not noticed that the bride had changed color; but as her mother told her that she had, Armide probably thought it best not to feel well.

She pa.s.sed her hand over her eyes and said in a faltering tone:

"No, I feel----"

Her mother did not allow her to finish. She sprang to her feet, crying:

"Mon Dieu! mon Dieu! Armide is dying! We must carry her to her bed."

Instantly there was a general uprising. The aunt who was at my side thrust her elbow in my face in her attempt to rise quickly in order to go to the a.s.sistance of her niece, who thereupon concluded that she had best be ill altogether. While they were taking Armide to her room, and Belan was running hither and thither like a madman, I went to my wife, took her hand and led her to the door, saying:

"This is quite enough for one morning."

Belan overtook us on the stairs, and called out to us:

"What! going already? Why, my wife will come to herself in a minute; I am not worried about her health; my mother-in-law is forever telling her that she is going to die, when she has no idea of doing anything of the kind."

"We have an engagement."

"Until this evening, then."

"The ball is not to be at your mother-in-law's, is it?"

"No, at Lointier's. It will be magnificent."

"We will be there."

How glad we were to be alone again! We had plenty to laugh about, as we pa.s.sed in review the original creatures whom we had met; and although my wife is not malicious, she was fully alive to the absurdities of the company.

We had promised to attend the ball, so we had no choice but to go; moreover, it was impossible that it should be so dreary a function as the breakfast; and then it was to take place in the same salons in which we had given ours, and we were not sorry to see them once more.

We went late, because we hoped to find the dancing well under way; but we were surprised to find the salons almost empty, and only two quadrilles in progress, so that everybody had plenty of room to dance.

And yet it was after eleven o'clock.

Belan came to meet us. His face was a yard long, and he said to me:

"It is most annoying: my mother-in-law would not allow me to invite more than thirty people; for she said that, with her family and acquaintances, that would be quite enough; and you see how much empty s.p.a.ce there is. I am aware that the party is very select, but a few more people would do no harm."

"One result, my dear Belan, is that it is much more comfortable to dance."

"Yes, that is so; the dancers will gain by it."

"And madame is no longer ill?"

"No, that didn't last. But now it is my mother-in-law's turn to have fits of suffocation. Just look at her eyes; she's a regular rabbit; she makes me sick. She is crying now because my wife dances every contradance; she declares that her daughter will be killed. Great heaven, what an emotional creature she is!"

"But I don't see the Giraud family here, and that surprises me, for of course you invited them?"

"Mon Dieu! my dear Blemont, don't speak of it. I was distressed to death, but my mother-in-law declared that the Girauds had manners which would be entirely out of place with her family, and she would not allow me to invite them."

"But Madame de Beausire used to go to their house, if I remember aright?"

"Yes, but since the little Giraud girl stuck her tongue out at her, she has sworn that she will never put her foot inside their door."

"I thought that Giraud was instrumental in arranging your marriage?"

"True, he did start the business."

"And you haven't invited him? He will never forgive you as long as he lives."

"What could I do? My mother-in-law--But excuse me, I believe that she is motioning to me."

We left Belan, and I danced with my Eugenie. We were happy to dance together, to be again in those rooms which had been the scene of our own wedding. Our eyes expressed love and contentment. Surely we looked more as if we were at a wedding than anybody else there.

To dance is the best thing that one can do at a ball where one knows n.o.body. All those Beausires, who stalked solemnly about the quadrilles, and the old aunts who sat against the wall, seemed almost displeased to see other people apparently enjoying themselves. I felt sure that they considered us very ill-bred.