must confess you do things royally. It certainly cannot be these ladies, with their small, very small fortune, who have by themselves given us such a fête as this. And then, it is not according to their tastes. If by accident they should have a little too much money, they would have less pleasure in offering a ball to their friends than a breakfast to their old poor.”
“My dear Madame Martin, when one does as one can, one does as one should,” replied, with a deep bow, M. Maubars, responding to her compliment to himself. “As to these ideas of our excellent friend Madame de Guers, you see, we must not be surprised at them. She has always lived a little above our so-called middle society; she is a woman—how shall I say it?—well, of the old régime. In her devotions, in good works, and perseverance, she has grand ideas; the commandments of Christ, the love of her neighbor, the good of the poor. It is all beautiful, Madame Martin, and sits superbly on a woman like her, grave and dignified, with such handsome white hair.”
“But for the little one—for Valentine—do you think, M. Maubars, that it will suit her as well?” replied, quickly, the lady, with a mocking smile.
“Oh! why not? Everything becomes a child. All these fine devotions are an occupation for the widow and an amusement for the little one. It is much better to direct her by caring for the poor than by ruining the reputations of others and seeking false excitements. Wait till Valentine becomes the wife of Alfred; that will change everything, you know, neighbor. The dear child will only have one end, one duty, one love—her husband.”
“Do you really think so, neighbor?”
interrupted Madame Martin, in a jeering tone.
“It is, at least, what all women promise at the altar, madame. And Valentine will do as she promises, I am certain. A child so docile, a nature so pliable, and a heart of gold. Yes, madame; I do not doubt, if my Alfred wishes it, she will prefer the road to the market or the grocery in preference to that of the church. And as to the refuge of which you speak, Madame de Guers will take care of that, as it will be her only occupation. My daughter-in-law will visit it occasionally in her leisure moments.”
“It will become her well to adapt her household to his wishes; for every one knows, neighbor, your son brings her a fortune far superior to her own.”
“Alas! yes, you say truly; her dowry is the only weak point.”
“The little one will have scarcely anything, will she, M. Maubars?” asked the lady precipitately, in her ardent, almost joyous curiosity.