The Milkmaid of Montfermeil Part 8

"Good-morning, my dear girl."

"Good-morning, dear."

"How sweet of you to come to see us!"

"We are going to stay until to-morrow."

"How lovely your hats always are!"

"Do you think so?"

"Fascinating. I like that style of dress ever so much."

"It's the latest--not quite low enough in the neck."

"Why, yes. I must have some of that material; it's very stylish."

"Oh! it's very simple; the dress cost only two hundred francs. But for the country, and for calls on one's friends--I'll give you my dressmaker's address."

Madame Destival allowed Madame de la Thoma.s.siniere to go upstairs first, continuing to lavish compliments upon her, and counterfeiting the most extravagant delight in order to conceal her secret annoyance; for the new arrival was genuinely pretty, her manners were charmingly vivacious, and Monsieur Dalville, whom Madame Destival was still expecting to see, had never met her. Monsieur Dalville, who was so quick to take fire, was very likely to make love to Madame de la Thoma.s.siniere, who was no less likely to listen to him. All this caused Madame Destival much secret anger; but she affected the greater amiability on that account; for in society one must know how to make believe, to speak otherwise than one thinks; that is the great secret of social success.

Madame de la Thoma.s.siniere entered the salon, where Monsieur Monin had remained; he was on the point of attempting the introduction of another pinch of snuff, but checked himself at sight of the young woman, stepped back, removed his hat, and although he had never seen her before, began his inevitable question:

"How's your health?"

But the pet.i.te-maitresse did not give the ex-druggist an opportunity to speak; she stifled with her handkerchief the outburst of laughter inspired by Monsieur Monin's unique countenance, and turned to Madame Destival, saying:

"Who is this?"

"A neighbor of ours, very rich, but as stupid as he is ridiculous."

"Ah! so much the better; we will have some sport with him. We may as well laugh a bit. Do you expect anybody else?"

"Why, yes, we expect a young man, a great friend of Monsieur Destival--Monsieur Auguste Dalville. Do you know him?"

"No, but I've heard a great deal about him; he is noted in society for his _bonnes fortunes_ and his conquests. I shall be very glad to make his acquaintance. As a general rule, these naughty fellows are very agreeable--don't you think so, my dear?"

"Why, sometimes--not always. However, you shall judge for yourself."

"They say he's very good-looking?"

"Oh! so-so; a pa.s.sable face, that's all; rather fine eyes, but his mouth is a little too large and his lips are very thick. I don't like that type of face at all."

"For my part, I don't like thin lips. Is he light or dark?"

"I can hardly remember; he is dark, I think."

"I had an idea that I had heard that Monsieur Dalville came to your house very often?"

"Oh, no! he goes to my husband's office, on business."

"Is he musical?"

"A little."

"I have brought a nocturne that I am crazy over; he must sing it with me."

"Monsieur Dalville will certainly be delighted to sing with you.--Excuse me, my dear, but I have some orders to give. In the country we don't stand on ceremony."

"I should hope not! I will go out and see your garden."

"Do; I am going to order luncheon, and I will come and call you."

The pet.i.te-maitresse tripped lightly down the stairs leading to the garden, and Madame Destival went to her bedroom, where she threw herself on a lounge, saying to Julie as she came in:

"Oh! Julie! I am so annoyed! I cannot stand any more, I am choking!"

"I should think as much, madame; I don't see how you can help it! To wait in vain for those whom you expect, and have to receive a lot of people that you don't expect!"

"Monsieur Destival is perfectly brutal, with his mania for inviting everybody he sees. If he had a chateau, he would not do any more!"

"That old Monin, who can't do anything but eat and drink!"

"And yet, if he were the only one, I shouldn't mind him, I promise you."

"Is his wife coming?"

"No, thank G.o.d! she is making pickles."

"That's very lucky! Madame Monin has a wicked tongue in her head; and inquisitive--why, she always comes into the kitchen to see what's going on."

"In spite of that, I should have preferred her to those Thoma.s.sinieres, who put on so much style and a.s.sume the most unendurable airs and pretensions!"

"And then, who ever heard of bringing three servants to be fed! Those big rascals will eat everything in the house."

"What time is it, Julie?"

"After twelve, madame."

"He won't come. I am very glad of it now. Order luncheon. We will not dine until half past six."

"That's right; in that way they won't get any supper, at all events."

Julie went downstairs. Madame stood in front of her mirror, looked at herself a few moments, arranged a few locks of hair, then left the room, saying to herself:

"I look well enough for these people."

She went to the garden and joined Madame de la Thoma.s.siniere, whose husband, immediately on arriving, had asked Monsieur Destival for a pen and some ink, so that he might at once write an urgent letter on a matter of great importance. Monsieur Destival ensconced the speculator in his study.