“Ah! where shall we stop, monsieur?”
XXV
WHICH COVERS A PERIOD OF THREE YEARS
Let us leave Auguste and Bertrand to pursue their travels, the one promising never again to allow himself to be led astray by the sly glances of the first pretty face he may meet; the other, swearing because his advice was not heeded, and reviling the sex which led his master into so many scrapes. You must forgive Bertrand, ladies, and pardon his ill humor; he really had some reason to distrust beauty. But if he had been twenty years younger, and some pretty creature had undertaken to make a conquest of him, who can say that, like his master, he would not have succumbed? Let us return to the village, to the little milkmaid, from whom Auguste’s follies have kept us away too long; and may the picture of innocence and of true love give our eyes a little rest after that of the passions and intrigues of cities, and the hypocrisy and selfishness of society. It is like turning to a lovely landscape of Regnier after looking at one of Gudin’s tempests; but, if the representation of the conflict causes us keen emotions, the sight of a pure sky and fields bright with blossoms brings sweet repose to our souls and often arouses pleasanter sensations within us.
Denise took back to her aunt the three thousand francs that she had intended to force upon Auguste; she heaved a profound sigh as she handed her the bag of money.
“Wouldn’t he take it?” asked Mère Fourcy.
“Alas! it was too late, aunt! he had gone away! He’s gone round the world! and God only knows when he will come back!”
“It ain’t our fault, child; we got the money together just as quick as we possibly could; for, you see, three thousand francs ain’t like a cheese. If he’s gone travelling, it must be that he wasn’t in need of money; at any rate we’ve nothing to blame ourselves for, and when he comes to see us again, he’ll see what a pretty cottage we’ve had built for Coco.”
Denise felt confident that Virginie would keep her promise, that she would succeed in finding out where Auguste had gone, and that she would send her news of him; that hope was the sole joy of her life. Hope always counts for much in the sum total of happiness that we mortals enjoy on earth; how many people have never known any other happiness than that which it gives!
Virginie had said to Denise, to console her:
“You will see Auguste again, and when he knows how dearly you love him, I am sure that he will care for you.”