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By Root 1477 0

slightest desire for her person before. The Marquis de Chouard, his nose buried in his plate, was thinking of Gaga’s young lady; he recollected having nursed her on his knee. How quickly children grew up! She was really becoming quite a plump little thing. Count Muffat, his face very red, remained absorbed in reflection. He continually glanced at George. When dinner was over he went and shut himself in his room, complaining of a slight touch of fever. M. Venot had hastened after him; and upstairs there was quite a scene between them. The count had flung himself on the bed and was stifling his nervous sobs in the pillow, whilst M. Venot, in a mild tone of voice, called him his brother, and exhorted him to implore the divine mercy. He heard not, he had a rattling in his throat. All on a sudden, he jumped from the bed, and stammered,

“I am going—I can no longer resist—”

“Very well,” said the old man, “I will go with you.”

As they went out, two shadows were disappearing in the depths of a side-walk. Every night, Fauchery and Countess Sabine now let Daguenet help Estelle make the tea. On the high road, the count walked at such a pace, that his companion was obliged to run to keep up with him. Though short of breath, the old man did not cease offering him the best possible arguments against succumbing to the temptations of the flesh. The other never opened his mouth, but hurried onwards in the darkness. When he reached La Mignotte, however, he said,

“I can fight no more—leave me.”

“Then, God’s will be done,” murmured M. Venot. “He takes all means to assure his triumph. Your sin will become one of his weapons.”

At La Mignotte, a good deal of quarrelling went on during the repast. Nana had received a letter from Bordenave, in which he advised her to take plenty of rest, but in a way that showed he did not care a pin about her: little Violaine was called twice before the curtain every night. And, as Mignon again pressed her to leave with them all on the morrow, Nana, exasperated, declared that she was not in want of advice from any one. Besides, whilst at table, she had behaved in a most ridiculously strait-laced manner. Madame Lerat, having made use of a rather objectionable word, she cried out—hang it all! she would allow nobody, not even her aunt, to utter filthy expressions in her presence. Then influenced by an idiotic attack of respectability, she bored everyone with her goody-goody sentiments, with her ideas of giving little Louis a religious education, and a whole course of good behaviour for herself. As they all laughed, she made use of some very profound words, wagging her head like a worthy woman thoroughly convinced, saying that order alone led to fortune, and that she didn’t want to die on a dung heap. The other women, having had enough of it, protested. Was it possible! some one must have changed Nana! But she, immovable in her seat, relapsed into her reverie, her eyes gazing into space, and conjuring up a vision of a Nana very rich and very much bowed to.

When Muffat arrived, they were all just going up to bed. Labordette noticed him in the garden, and, understanding his object, rendered him the service of getting Steiner out of the way, and of leading him by the hand along the dark passage to the door of Nana’s room. Labordette, for this sort of jobs, had a most gentlemanly way, was very dexterous, and seemed delighted at conducing to another’s happiness. Nana showed no surprise, but merely felt bored by Muffat’s persistence. However, one must have an eye for business during life! It was stupid to love, it led to nothing. Besides, she had scruples on account of Zizi’s youth: she had really behaved disgracefully. Well! she would return to the right path, and go for the old fellow.

“Zoé,” said she to the maid who was only too delighted to leave the country, “pack the trunks the first thing to-morrow morning. We are going back to Paris.”

And she allowed Muffat to remain, though it caused her no pleasure.

CHAPTER VII

Three months later, one night in December, Count Muffat was walking up and down the Passage