“For my part, I see nothing extraordinary about it, my dear girl; this lady comes to live in a part of the country that she isn’t familiar with, and she goes out in the saddle; that’s the best way of becoming acquainted with the neighborhood. If she looks at the houses, it’s because she wants to know the people who live in them.”
“But why does she pass our house so often? why does she ride round it?”
“She passes it, no doubt, because it’s on her road when she goes out to ride. Poucette thinks that she rides round it; probably that is because it’s her shortest way home.”
“You always think that everything’s all right. Still, I am very curious to see this beautiful equestrian.”
“And I am not in the least, I assure you.—By the way, you don’t mention the husband; doesn’t he ride too?”
“Oh, no!” said the gardener; “the husband don’t know how to sit a horse very well, it seems; the first day Madame de Belleville went out to ride, her husband thought he’d go with her. So he took a horse, but he didn’t look as if he was very comfortable on him. ‘My dear love,’ he sings out to his wife, ‘please don’t go so fast! I’ve got out of the habit of galloping.’—But whether his wife didn’t hear him, or whether her horse wouldn’t stop, she was off like a flash in an instant. Monsieur de Belleville tried to overtake her, but patatras!—off he went, head over heels. He got up and went home, limping a little and swearing he’d never get on a horse again; but that don’t prevent madame’s going every day.”
“She has a servant follow her, of course?”
“No, she always goes alone. As Poucette says, she ain’t afraid. It seems there’s to be a dinner-party to-morrow, given by the owner of Goldfish Villa; all the bigwigs of the place are invited—the Droguets and Remplumés and Jarnouillards; you don’t hear anybody talking about anything else. Perhaps it’s to invite you that Madame de Belleville rides round your house the way she does.”
“Oh! no, Père Ledrux; it can’t be for that. In the first place, one doesn’t go on horseback to pay a ceremonious visit; and in the second place, we are not bigwigs, and as this lady chooses to make friends of all the people who talk ill of us, it is probable that we shall never make friends with her. But if you hear any more gossip, Père Ledrux, about Monsieur Edmond Didier’s frequent visits to us, I authorize you to say that there is nothing surprising in the fact of a young man’s paying court to the person he is to marry; for Monsieur Edmond and Agathe are engaged.”
“Well, well! I had a suspicion of that!” cried the gardener; “I says to myself: ‘That young man and that girl—hum! it might well be—they’re both very good-looking!’—But, you understand, I just said that to myself, by way of reflection; for it don’t concern me, it’s none of my business.—I’ll just go and take a look at your hens; it’s as sure as can be that the black one fights with the others; if you don’t eat her, I’ll have to take her away; she makes the others too miserable.”