At that period, as at the present, and in every age of the world, the female sex, like the Jews of old, asks signs, while the Greeks—that is, the men—seek wisdom.
The time never was, and never will be, when a woman will cease to be curious,—when her imagination will not forecast the decrees of fate in regard to the culminating event of her life and her whole nature—marriage. It was in vain Doctor Gauthier protested his inability to read the stars without his celestial eye-glasses.
The ladies would not accept his excuses: he knew the heavens by heart, they said, and could read the stars of destiny as easily as the Bishop his breviary.
In truth the worthy doctor was not only a believer but an adept in astrology. He had favored his friends with not a few horoscopes and nativities, when pressed to do so. His good nature was of the substance of butter: any one that liked could spread it over their bread. Many good men are eaten up in that way by greedy friends.
Hortense de Beauharnais urged the Doctor so merrily and so perseveringly, promising to marry him herself if the stars said so, that he laughingly gave way, but declared he would tell Hortense's fortune first, which deserved to be good enough to make her fulfil her promise just made.
She was resigned, she said, and would accept any fate from the rank of a queen to a cell among the old maids of St. Cyr! The girls of Quebec hung all their hopes on the stars, bright and particular ones especially. They were too loving to live single, and too proud to live poor. But she was one who would not wait for ships to land that never came, and plums to drop into her mouth that never ripened. Hortense would be ruled by the stars, and wise Doctor Gauthier should to-night declare her fate.
They all laughed at this free talk of Hortense. Not a few of the ladies shrugged their shoulders and looked askance at each other, but many present wished they had courage to speak like her to Doctor Gauthier.
“Well, I see there is nothing else for it but to submit to my ruling star, and that is you, Hortense!” cried the Doctor; “so please stand up before me while I take an inventory of your looks as a preliminary to telling your fortune.”
Hortense placed herself instantly before him. “It is one of the privileges of our dry study,” remarked he, as he looked admiringly on the tall, charming figure and frank countenance of the girl before him.
“The querent,” said he gravely, “is tall, straight, slender, arms long, hands and feet of the smallest, hair just short of blackness, piercing, roving eyes, dark as night and full of fire, sight quick, and temperament alive with energy, wit, and sense.”