Marthe at once proceeded to call upon Madame Delangre, and then upon Madame Rastoil. She found them very polite, but less enthusiastic than Madame de Condamin. They discussed the pecuniary side of the scheme. A large sum of money would be required, they said; the charity of the public would certainly never provide it, and there was a great risk of the whole business coming to a ridiculous termination. Marthe tried to reassure them, and plied them with figures. Then they asked her what ladies had consented to join the committee. The mention of Madame de Condamin's name left them silent, but when they learned that Madame Rougon had excused herself from joining, they became more amiable.
Madame Delangre had received Marthe in her husband's private room. She was a pale little woman whose dissoluteness had remained a matter of legend in Plassans.
'Indeed,' she ended by saying, 'there is nothing I should like to see better. It would be a school of virtue for the youth of the working-classes, and it would be the means of saving many weak souls. I cannot refuse my assistance, for I feel that I could be of much use to you through my husband, who as mayor of the town is brought into continual contact with all the influential people. But I must ask you to allow me till to-morrow before I give a definite reply. Our position requires us to exercise circumspection, and I should like to consult Monsieur Delangre.'
In Madame Rastoil Marthe encountered a woman who was equally listless but more prudish, and who sought for irreproachable words when referring to the unfortunate girls who had fallen. She was a sleek, plump person, and Marthe found her embroidering a very gorgeous alb, between her two daughters, whom she sent away at her visitor's first words.
'I am much obliged to you for having thought of me,' she said; 'but really I am very much occupied. I am already on several committees and I don't know whether I should have the time. I have had some such idea as your own myself, but my scheme was a larger one and, perhaps, more complete and comprehensive. For a whole month I have been intending to talk to the Bishop about it, but I have never been able to find the time. Well! we will unite our efforts, and I will tell you my own views, for I think you are making a mistake in some points. Since it seems necessary, I will surrender still more of my time. But it was only yesterday that my husband said to me: "Really, you never attend to your own affairs; you are always looking after other people's."'
Marthe glanced at her curiously, thinking of her old entanglement with Monsieur Delangre, which folks still chuckled over in the cafés of the Cours Sauvaire. The wives of the mayor and the presiding judge had received the mention of Abbé Faujas's name very suspiciously, the latter especially so. Marthe was a little vexed at this distrust of a person for whom she vouched; so she made a point of dwelling upon the Abbé's good qualities, and eventually forced the two women to acknowledge the merit of this priest, who lived a life of retirement and supported his mother.
On leaving Madame Rastoil's Marthe merely had to cross the road to reach Madame Paloque's, which was on the other side of the Rue Balande. It was seven o'clock, but she was anxious to make this last call, even if she were to keep Mouret waiting for dinner and get herself scolded in consequence. The Paloques were just about to sit down to table in a chilly dining-room, whose prim coldness spoke of provincial penury. Madame Paloque hastened to cover up the soup-tureen, vexed at being thus found at table. She was very polite, humble almost, anxious as she really felt about this visit which she had not expected. Her husband, the judge, sat before his empty plate with his hands upon his knees.
'The hussies!' he exclaimed, when Marthe spoke of the girls of the old quarter of the town. 'I heard some nice accounts of them to-day at court. It was they who led some of our most respectable townspeople astray. You do wrong, madame, to interest yourself about such vermin.'
'I am very much afraid,' said Madame Paloque in her turn, 'that I cannot be of much assistance to you. I know no one, and my husband would cut his hand off rather than beg for the smallest trifle. We have held ourselves quite aloof from everyone, disgusted as we are with all the injustices we have witnessed. We live here very quietly and modestly, happy in being forgotten and let alone. Even if promotion were offered to my husband now, he would refuse it. Wouldn't you, my dear?'
The judge nodded his head in assent and they exchanged a slight smile, while Marthe sat ill at ease in the presence of that hideous wrinkled couple, livid with gall and bitterness, who played so well the little comedy of feigned resignation. Fortunately she recalled her mother's counsels.