Much has been said in favor of the patriarchal manners of our ancestors.
Their manners may have been patriarchal years and years ago; but our mothers and wives nowadays certainly have not such ready hands and quick tongues, and are sometimes, at least, elegant in manner, and choice in their language.
Mme. de La Verberie had preserved the manners of the good old times, when grand ladies swore like troopers, and impressed their remarks by slaps in the face.
When Valentine appeared, she was overwhelmed with coarse epithets and violent abuse.
The countess had been informed of everything, with many gross additions added by public scandal. An old dowager, her most intimate friend, had hurried over early in the morning, to offer her this poisoned dish of gossip, seasoned with her own pretended condolences.
In this sad affair, Mme. de la Verberie mourned less over her daughter’s loss of reputation, than over the ruin of her own projects—projects of going to Paris, making a grand marriage for Valentine, and living in luxury the rest of her days.
A young girl so compromised would not find it easy to get a husband. It would now be necessary to keep her two years longer in the country, before introducing her into Parisian society. The world must have time to forget this scandal.
“You worthless wretch!” cried the countess with fury; “is it thus you respect the noble traditions of our family? Heretofore it has never been considered necessary to watch the La Verberies; they could take care of their honor: but you must take advantage of your liberty to cover our name with disgrace!”
With a sinking heart, Valentine had foreseen this tirade. She felt that it was only a just punishment for her conduct. Knowing that the indignation of her mother was just, she meekly hung her head like a repentant sinner at the bar of justice.
But this submissive silence only exasperated the angry countess.