“Indeed!” said she. “Can you suppose that any woman would care to compete with a journalist’s mistresses?—Monsieur Lousteau strikes me as agreeable and witty; but he is blase, etc., etc.——”
Dinah had turned back, and was obliged to check the flow of words by which she tried to disguise her intentions; for Etienne, who seemed to be studying progress in Cosne, was coming to meet them.
“Believe me,” said Bianchon, “what he wants is to be truly loved; and if he alters his course of life, it will be to the benefit of his talent.”
Dinah’s coachman hurried up breathlessly to say that the diligence had come in, and they walked on quickly, Madame de la Baudraye between the two men.
“Good-bye, my children!” said Bianchon, before they got into the town, “you have my blessing!”
He released Madame de la Baudraye’s hand from his arm, and allowed Lousteau to draw it into his, with a tender look, as he pressed it to his heart. What a difference to Dinah! Etienne’s arm thrilled her deeply. Bianchon’s had not stirred her in the least. She and the journalist exchanged one of those glowing looks that are more than an avowal.
“Only provincial women wear muslin gowns in these days,” thought Lousteau to himself, “the only stuff which shows every crease. This woman, who has chosen me for her lover, will make a fuss over her frock! If she had but put on a foulard skirt, I should be happy.—What is the meaning of these difficulties——”
While Lousteau was wondering whether Dinah had put on a muslin gown on purpose to protect herself by an insuperable obstacle, Bianchon, with the help of the coachman, was seeing his luggage piled on the diligence. Finally, he came to take leave of Dinah, who was excessively friendly with him.
“Go home, Madame la Baronne, leave me here—Gatien will be coming,” he added in an undertone. “It is getting late,” said he aloud. “Good-bye!”
“Good-bye—great man!” cried Lousteau, shaking hands with Bianchon.