“Reasons! Why, they have none ... not the slightest!... Yet you know them a little.... My daughter is a savage; my wife is a bigot.... One is always on the watch in the presence of such people. Anyhow, my dear friend, I shall try, and you may guess what zeal and strength of affections....”
This eloquent peroration seemed to give him a sort of justification for kissing Zoz hand once more. The enthusiasm of his promise bolstered up his hopes throughout the evening. Besides, he had never, as yet, faced the contest straightforwardly. He had rather avoided it, postponed it by means of patience and cunning. Who knew what might not come out of an open battle, if he let loose the whole mass of those grievances and desires which he had repressed for so many months!
CHAPTER XV
THE next morning, however, he waited until the end of the lunch to try the first assault. As Brigitte served the coffee, he said:
“Children! I have an invitation to transmit to you.... If you do not like it, you are quite at liberty to decline!... But, first of all, I beg you, please listen to me to the end....”
While he spoke, with lowered head and unconsciously scratching with his nails the oil-cloth on the table, Mme. Raindal darted horrified glances at her daughter. Thérèse replied to them with a reassuring mimicry of her lips and eyelids. When M. Raindal had finished, she said in a very even tone, without any suggestion either of anger or fear:
“Mme. Chambannes is very kind, father.... Nevertheless, so far as I am concerned, I find her invitation unacceptable. And I should be very much surprised if mother did not agree with me!”
“Oh, quite!” Mme. Raindal approved, with a nod.
“May I ask what your reasons are?” the master asked, in a tone which he tried to make appear unctuous.
“My reason, and I am only giving you my own,” Thérèse said with a similar air, “is this, that Mme. Chambannes, be it said without offense, is no company for us.”