Though he loved mirth and fun as much as any one, Andrè was extremely regular in his habits, and every engagement he made was pretty sure of being punctually attended to. Julienne quickly discovered that thrice every week, precisely at seven o'clock in the evening, her husband left his home, to which he returned generally after the lapse of two hours. Whither he went she did not know, nor could she find out.
Andrè always parried her little inquisitions with jokes and laughter. She perceived, however, that his excursions might be connected with business in some way or other, for he never expended money, as he would had he gone to a café or estaminet. Julienne's speculations went no further than this. As to the husband and wife, had they been left to themselves, not the slightest interruption of mutual good-feeling would ever have arisen out of this matter.
But it is a long lane which has no turning, and a very slight circumstance gave an unhappy twist to the path which had promised such a direct and pleasant voyage through life. Julienne had almost ceased to puzzle herself about her husband's periodical absences, indeed had ceased to joke when he returned from them, having easily learned—the good-tempered little woman—to consider them as nothing more than some engagement connected with the ordinary course of business. One night, however, a neighbor, Madame Margot, stepped into the bowery cottage
of the young pair to have a chat and a cup of coffee with Madame Folitton. Madame Margot, though she had more words than Julienne, and could keep the conversation going at a more rattling pace, had by no means so sweet and gracious a presence. Her sharp eye and thin lips were true indices to a prying and somewhat ill-natured disposition; and the fact is, that Madame Margot, having several times seen Andrè pass her house alone in the evening, as if taking a walk by himself, had been seized with a strong desire to know "how things were going on" between him and his wife. Madame Margot had never joined other folks in their profuse prophesies of future happiness when Andrè and Julienne were wedded. She was not the woman to do it; her temper had spread her own bed, and her husband's too, with thorns and briars, and so she declared that the happiness of wedded life was something worse than a mauvaise plaisanterie. "Eh, bien!" she exclaimed, when folks spoke of Andrè and his wife. "I wish them well, but I have lived too long to suppose that such a beginning as theirs can hold on long! We shall hear different tales by and by!" So Madame Margot, with her sharp eye and thin lips, eager to verify her prognostications, had visited Andrè's house to reconnoitre.
"M. Folitton? he is not here?" said she, in the course of conversation.
"He is from home," answered Julienne; and as she saw the peering expression of Madame Margot's face, she answered in such a manner as to check further inquiry.
"I knew it!" thought Madame Margot. "I was sure there was something wrong!"
"Andrè will be in presently," added Julienne.
"Ah, well," exclaimed her companion, with the look of one resigned to the inconveniences of life, "it is well that he is so attentive to business; and very glad I am to see how much he has upon his hands: early in the morning till late at night. Fortune and leisure await those who work like him."
"You are kind," said Julienne. "It is true that Andrè works very hard. Let me fill your cup."