Luxury - Gluttony: Two of the Seven Cardinal Sins. Эжен Сю
But tell us quick, quick, — what is it?" said the young woman, with an eagerness which gave her an additional charm.
"What I am going to tell you will surprise you, perhaps?"
"So much the better, I adore surprises."
"Ah, well, the isolation of bachelor life weighs upon me, and — "
"And?"
"I wish to get married."
"Truly!"
"Does it astonish you? I am sure it does."
"You are entirely mistaken, for in my opinion you ought to get married."
"Pray, why?"
"How often I have said to myself, sooner or later this good M. Pascal, who lives so much by his heart, will enjoy the sweets of family life, and, if I must confess my vain presumption," added Sophie, "I said to myself, it is impossible that the sight of the happiness Charles and I enjoy should not some day suggest the idea of marriage to M. Pascal. Now, was I not happy in foreseeing your intention?"
"Have your triumph, then, dear Madame Dutertre, because, in fact, seduced by your example and that of your husband, I desire to make, as you two did, a marriage of love."
"Can any other marriage be possible?" replied Sophie, shrugging her shoulders with a most graceful movement, and, without reflecting upon the thirty-eight years of M. Pascal, she added:
"And you are loved?"
"My God, that depends on you."
"On me?"
"Absolutely."
"On me?" exclaimed Sophie, with increasing surprise. "Do you hear, Charles, what M. Pascal says."
"I hear," replied Dutertre, who, not less astonished than his wife, was listening with involuntary anxiety.
"How can I, M. Pascal, how can I make you loved?" asked Sophie.
"You can do so, my dear Madame Dutertre."
"Although it seems incomprehensible to me, bless God for it. If I have the magic power you attribute to me, my dear M. Pascal," replied Sophie, with her sweetest smile, "then you will be loved, as you deserve to be."
"Counting on your promise, then, I will not travel four roads, but confess at once, my dear Madame Dutertre, that I am in love with Mlle. Antonine Hubert."
"Antonine!" exclaimed Sophie, astounded; while Dutertre, seated before his desk, turned abruptly to his wife, whose astonishment he shared.
"Antonine!" replied Sophie, as if she could not believe what she had heard. "You love Antonine!"
"Yes, it is she. I met her to-day in your house, for the fourth time, only I have never spoken to her. However, my mind is made up, for I am one of those people who decide quickly and by instinct. For instance, when it was necessary for me to come to the aid of this brave Dutertre, the thing was done in two hours. Well, the ravishing beauty of Mlle. Antonine, the purity of her face, a something, I know not what, tells me that this young person has the best qualities in the world, — all has contributed to render me madly in love with her, and to desire in a marriage of love, like yours, my dear Madame Dutertre, that inward happiness, those joys of the heart, that you believe me worthy of knowing and enjoying."
"Monsieur," said Sophie, with painful embarrassment, "permit me — "
"One word more, it is love at first sight, you will say, — that may be, but there are twenty examples of love as sudden as they are deep. Besides, as I have told you, I am plainly a man of instinct, of presentiment; with a single glance of the eye, I have always judged a thing good or bad. Why should I not follow in marriage a method which has always perfectly succeeded with me? I have told you that it depends entirely on you to make Mlle. Antonine love me. I will explain. At fifteen years, and she seems hardly to be so old as that, young girls have no wills of their own. You have acted as mother to Mlle. Antonine, as Dutertre has told me; you possess great influence over her, nothing would be more easy, by talking to her of me in a certain manner, when you shall have presented me to her, and that can be not later than to-morrow, can it not? I repeat, it will be easy for you to induce her to share my love, and to marry me. If I owe you this happiness, my dear Madame Dutertre, wait and see," added Pascal, with a tone full of emotion and sincerity. "You speak of gratitude? Well, that which you have toward me would be ingratitude, compared with what I would feel toward you!"
Sophie had listened to M. Pascal with as much grief as surprise; for she believed, and she had reason to believe, in the reality of the love, or rather the ardent desire for possession that this man felt; so she replied, with deep feeling, for it cost her much to disappoint hopes which seemed to her honourable:
"My poor M. Pascal, you must see that I am distressed not to be able to render you the first service you ask of me. I need not tell you how deeply I regret it."
"What is impossible in it?"
"Believe me, do not think of this marriage."
"Does not Mlle. Antonine deserve — "
"Antonine is an angel. I have known her from infancy. There is not a better heart, a better character, in the world."
"What you tell me, my dear Madame Dutertre, would suffice to augment my desire, if that could be done."
"I say again, this marriage is impossible."
"Well, tell me why."
"In the first place, think of it, Antonine is only fifteen and a half, and you — "
"I am thirty-eight. Is it that?"
"The difference of age is very great, you must confess, and as I would not advise my daughter or my sister to make a marriage so disproportionate, I cannot advise Antonine to do so, because I would not at any price make your unhappiness or hers."
"Oh, make yourself easy! I will answer for my own happiness."
"And that of Antonine?"
"Bah! bah! for a few years, more or less — "
"I married for love, my dear M. Pascal. I do not comprehend other marriages. Perhaps it is wrong, but indeed I think so, and I ought to tell you so, since you consult me."
"According to you, then, I am not capable of pleasing Mlle. Antonine?"
"I believe that, like Charles and myself, and like all generous hearts, she would appreciate the nobility of your character, but — "
"Permit me again, my dear Madame Dutertre, — a child of fifteen years has no settled ideas on the subject of marriage; and Mlle. Antonine has a blind confidence in you. Present me to her; tell her all sorts of good about the good man, Pascal. The affair is sure, — if you wish to do it, you can."
"Hear me, my dear M. Pascal, this conversation grieves me more than I can tell you, and to put an end to it I will trust a secret to your discretion and your loyalty."
"Very well, what is this secret?"
"Antonine loves, and is loved. Ah, M. Pascal, nothing could be purer or more affecting than this love, and, for many reasons, I am certain it will assure Antonine's happiness. Her uncle's health is precarious, and should the poor child lose him she would be obliged to live with relatives who, not without reason, inspire her with aversion. Once married according to the dictate of her heart, she can hope for a happy future, for her warm affection is nobly placed. You must see, then, my dear M. Pascal, that, even with my influence, you would have no chance of success, and how can I give you my influence, with the approval of my conscience, leaving out of consideration the disparity of age, which, in my opinion, is an insuperable objection? I am sure, and I do not speak lightly, that the love which Antonine both feels and inspires ought to make her happy throughout her life."
At this confirmation of Antonine's love for Frantz, a secret already half understood