The cabriolet was sold, the little groom found another place. When Madame Saint-Edmond observed that her neighbor was cutting down his establishment, she no longer deigned to look at him, but passed him without even bowing to him. Bertrand was indignant at her discourtesy, but Auguste laughed at it, saying:
“I am certain now that that woman never loved me, and it is always pleasant to know whom one is dealing with.”
But Bertrand muttered:
“Just let her lose her poodle again; and if I find him I’ll make him do a turn of sentry duty that he’ll never be relieved from.”
Auguste continued to seek distraction in society, and as distraction is ordinarily expensive, he spent much more than he should have done, although he had determined to be virtuous and orderly. He considered himself very prudent, because, instead of losing fifty louis at an evening party, he lost only fifty crowns; because, instead of hiring a box at the theatre, he contented himself with buying seat tickets at the office; and because he rode in cabs instead of keeping a cabriolet. But even this outlay was too large for a person who had only a small capital and no income. Bertrand saw with dismay that their funds would not last as long as he had hoped; he dared not remonstrate with Auguste, but he often said to him:
“Let’s go see the pretty milkmaid, monsieur, and that little Coco that you’re so fond of; that will divert you. We can pass a few days at the village, and amusements don’t cost so much there as they do in Paris.”
Auguste constantly postponed visiting Montfermeil. He did not tell Bertrand the reason that he dreaded to go there; but he was pained to think that he was no longer able to do all that he had hoped to do for the child; he supposed that the money which he had left for him had been used; and, being accustomed to follow nothing but the impulses of his heart and give money away with a lavish hand, he sighed at the idea of being obliged to reckon the extent of his benefactions. That pang was the keenest that the loss of his fortune had as yet caused him.
After an absence of six weeks, Monsieur and Madame de la Thomassinière returned to Paris. Their mansion became once more the rendezvous of the people who love good dinners, evening parties and balls; and the old chevalier of the pigeon’s wings was not the last to return thither, although at their last dinner-party he had sworn that they would never catch him there again. The marquises and dandies, the women of fashion, the poets and bankers were very careful not to mention Madame Thomas to Monsieur de la Thomassinière; and he said to himself, rubbing his hands:
“It’s all forgotten, nobody thinks about it now, it hasn’t injured me in the least. For all that, I did well to pass six weeks in England; that sufficed to forget it.”
Monsieur de la Thomassinière was mistaken; Madame Thomas’s visit was not forgotten; but so long as he was rich and continued to give gorgeous parties and grand dinners, people would continue to go to his house and to welcome him warmly. Let him but lose his money, and everybody would very soon discover what he was—a very stupid, vulgar individual. So that it was not necessary for him to make the journey to England. To be sure, he did not say all this to himself.