It was Ambroisine, whose right arm was passed through the arm of a girl even prettier than herself, but with a shy, timid air, who was evidently surprised beyond measure to find herself in the midst of that tumult. That girl was Bathilde, the daughter of Landry the bath keeper of Rue Dauphine.
How did it happen that she was so far from home, and without her mother, in the midst of that bold and curious crowd, where beauty and youth were the objective point of the glances of most of the sightseers? How did it happen that she was arm in arm with Ambroisine, upon whom Dame Ragonde had looked coldly for so long a time, and with whom she seemed afraid to allow her daughter to talk?
The reason was that Bathilde's mother had an old kinswoman in Normandie, who had always manifested much affection for her, and had refrained from marrying, with the intention of leaving all her property to Ragonde some day. That property consisted of a few acres of land and a wretched house—the whole being worth, perhaps, fifteen hundred livres; but we must remember that in those days fifteen hundred livres was equal to six thousand to-day; that Landry had no other property than his business; and lastly, that in Ragonde's eyes that fifteen hundred livres would be a sufficient dowry to obtain for Bathilde the hand of some respectable Parisian tradesman.
It happened that one fine day a message arrived from Caudebec, the old kinswoman's residence. A neighbor of hers wrote to Dame Landry, to inform her that her cousin was very ill, and was most anxious to have her by her side, to close her eyes. He added that haste was important, because the old maid seemed to have only a short time to live.
On receipt of this message, Dame Ragonde instantly made preparations for her journey; the famous inheritance being at stake, she felt that she must not hesitate! But as she was about to start, she thought of Bathilde, whom in her absorption she had forgotten. Should she take her or leave her with her father? To trust the old trooper of Henri IV to watch over a young girl was imprudent, perhaps. But, on the other hand, to take on a journey the child whom she had guarded so carefully up to that time was to expose her to the risk of listening to the chatter of every comer; of being the object of gallant attentions, perhaps even of bold enterprises, on the part of their fellow travellers. For Dame Ragonde had not the means to travel in a litter; and in those days travel was so slow, the means of transport so difficult, that one was obliged to pass a long time in a coach or other vehicle, even when one had not a long distance to travel. And then there was the matter of expense, which was of great importance to the bath keeper's wife. It cost a great deal to travel; and the expense would be doubled if she should take her daughter.
The result of her reflections was that Dame Ragonde set out alone, but not without saying to her husband many times:
"Keep a sharp eye on your daughter! Don't let her leave the house or receive any visits; make no change in the order which I have established in our household, so that no one may notice that I am absent! And always tell everyone that I am coming back in the course of the day."
If the person who goes away knew how soon her injunctions are forgotten, she would not take the trouble to repeat them so many times. It is not always disinclination to comply with them on the part of those whom you leave in your place; but when you give your instructions, you cannot at the same time impart your habits, your intelligence, your rigidity, your searching glance, your observant mind—in a word, your nature; and everyone acts according to his nature.
Landry, despite his moustaches and his surly manner, had a softer heart than his wife; and then, too, this persistent watching, this making one's self a spy upon one's daughter, is much more consonant with a woman's habit than with a man's. Moreover, as the old soldier had not the slightest doubt of his child's virtue, he did not understand why he must be incessantly on his guard, as with a prisoner who is always trying to escape.
The first days that followed Dame Ragonde's departure brought about no change in Bathilde's usual mode of life, for it did not occur to her to ask leave to go out, and no one came to divert her.