Monsieur Dulac seemed to enjoy coming to our house. He was a constant attendant at our receptions, and sometimes he came to see me in the morning. He had a trifling difference about a farm which he owned in common with a cousin of his; he requested me to adjust the affair, which I readily undertook to do. The young man manifested much regard for me, and although I knew that one should not rely upon society friends, I have always allowed myself to be taken in by manifestations of friendship for myself, for I have never pretended to like people whom I did not like.
Thanks to Monsieur Dulac, we had music at our house more frequently. My wife had almost abandoned her piano; I need not say that she had ceased to give me lessons, for one must be on the best of terms with a person to have patience enough to teach him to play on any instrument. We were not always on good terms, and Eugénie was not patient; she had declared that I did not listen, and I had made the same complaint with respect to her painting; so that brush and piano were alike neglected.
But Monsieur Dulac, who played the violin very well, urged my wife to take up music again; I myself was very glad that Eugénie should not forget an accomplishment in which she was proficient. She consented, because a stranger’s compliments are much more flattering than a husband’s; the piano resounded anew under her fingers, and I listened with pleasure; she used to play so often when I was paying court to her!
With the taste for music, Eugénie also contracted a taste for balls, receptions, the theatre—in a word, for the world. We began to see a great many people; almost every day we had invitations to dinners or other festivities; and then we were bound to return the courtesies we had received; so that we had not a day to ourselves. That was not the placid existence which we had planned in the early days of our married life. For my own part, I confess that that constant rush made me dizzy; but it pleased my wife and it was one way of obtaining peace.
I earned enough money to meet the expenses of the life we led. Eugénie now spent on her dress a large part of her income. She had become very coquettish of late; however, she was not yet twenty-five, and she was as pretty as ever.
What distressed me was that amid all this dissipation my wife paid little attention to her daughter; our Henriette never lacked anything and she was well taken care of, but it seemed to me that her mother did not pet her enough. Eugénie loved her daughter dearly; I could not doubt that; perhaps it was because I spoiled her a little that she was more stern with her. I dared not reprove her; indeed at that moment I carefully avoided everything that could excite her; once more she was expecting to become a mother and I had received the news with the most intense delight; I felt that I should be so happy to have a son! To be sure I could not love him any more dearly than I loved my daughter, but I should love him as much, and from the delight that one child afforded me, I felt that with two my happiness would be twice as great. So I was most assiduous in my attentions to my wife; but I did not see that she was any more amiable to me.
I went very seldom to see Ernest, but I knew that they were happy. They had two children now, whom they adored, and Marguerite liked better to remain by their cradles than to go to balls or parties. I confessed to myself that I would have been glad if Eugénie had had such quiet tastes. Marguerite always was kind enough to inquire for my wife; as for Ernest, he had never entered our house again, and I approved his course.
I had not met Bélan for a long while, when he entered my study one morning, flushed, panting, and in a profuse perspiration. He sat down beside me and did not give me time to question him.
“I am, my friend, I certainly am! I am sure of it now. It is a most frightful, most abominable thing!”
“What is it that you are, then?” I asked, watching Bélan mop his forehead.