Scenes from a Courtesan's Life [128]
by the most terrible suspicions.
The interior of the house, as much altered as the surroundings, was comfortable without luxury, as will be understood by a glance round the room where the little party were now assembled. A pretty Aubusson carpet, hangings of gray cotton twill bound with green silk brocade, the woodwork painted to imitate Spa wood, carved mahogany furniture covered with gray woolen stuff and green gimp, with flower-stands, gay with flowers in spite of the time of year, presented a very pleasing and homelike aspect. The window curtains, of green brocade, the chimney ornaments, and the mirror frames were untainted by the bad taste that spoils everything in the provinces; and the smallest details, all elegant and appropriate, gave the mind and eye a sense of repose and of poetry which a clever and loving woman can and ought to infuse into her home.
Madame Sechard, still in mourning for her father, sat by the fire working at some large piece of tapestry with the help of Madame Kolb, the housekeeper, to whom she intrusted all the minor cares of the household.
"A chaise has stopped at the door!" said Courtois, hearing the sound of wheels outside; "and to judge by the clatter of metal, it belongs to these parts----"
"Postel and his wife have come to see us, no doubt," said the doctor.
"No," said Courtois, "the chaise has come from Mansle."
"Montame," said Kolb, the burly Alsatian we have made acquaintance with in a former volume (Illusions perdues), "here is a lawyer from Paris who wants to speak with monsieur."
"A lawyer!" cried Sechard; "the very word gives me the colic!"
"Thank you!" said the Maire of Marsac, named Cachan, who for twenty years had been an attorney at Angouleme, and who had once been required to prosecute Sechard.
"My poor David will never improve; he will always be absent-minded!" said Eve, smiling.
"A lawyer from Paris," said Courtois. "Have you any business in Paris?"
"No," said Eve.
"But you have a brother there," observed Courtois.
"Take care lest he should have anything to say about old Sechard's estate," said Cachan. "HE had his finger in some very queer concerns, worthy man!"
Corentin and Derville, on entering the room, after bowing to the company, and giving their names, begged to have a private interview with Monsieur and Madame Sechard.
"By all means," said Sechard. "But is it a matter of business?"
"Solely a matter regarding your father's property," said Corentin.
"Then I beg you will allow monsieur--the Maire, a lawyer formerly at Angouleme--to be present also."
"Are you Monsieur Derville?" said Cachan, addressing Corentin.
"No, monsieur, this is Monsieur Derville," replied Corentin, introducing the lawyer, who bowed.
"But," said Sechard, "we are, so to speak, a family party; we have no secrets from our neighbors; there is no need to retire to my study, where there is no fire--our life is in the sight of all men----"
"But your father's," said Corentin, "was involved in certain mysteries which perhaps you would rather not make public."
"Is it anything we need blush for?" said Eve, in alarm.
"Oh, no! a sin of his youth," said Corentin, coldly setting one of his mouse-traps. "Monsieur, your father left an elder son----"
"Oh, the old rascal!" cried Courtois. "He was never very fond of you, Monsieur Sechard, and he kept that secret from you, the deep old dog! --Now I understand what he meant when he used to say to me, 'You shall see what you shall see when I am under the turf.' "
"Do not be dismayed, monsieur," said Corentin to Sechard, while he watched Eve out of the corner of his eye.
"A brother!" exclaimed the doctor. "Then your inheritance is divided into two!"
Derville was affecting to examine the fine engravings, proofs before letters, which hung on the drawing-room walls.
"Do not be dismayed, madame," Corentin went on, seeing amazement written on Madame Sechard's handsome features, "it is only a natural son. The rights of a natural son are not the same as those of a legitimate child. This man is
The interior of the house, as much altered as the surroundings, was comfortable without luxury, as will be understood by a glance round the room where the little party were now assembled. A pretty Aubusson carpet, hangings of gray cotton twill bound with green silk brocade, the woodwork painted to imitate Spa wood, carved mahogany furniture covered with gray woolen stuff and green gimp, with flower-stands, gay with flowers in spite of the time of year, presented a very pleasing and homelike aspect. The window curtains, of green brocade, the chimney ornaments, and the mirror frames were untainted by the bad taste that spoils everything in the provinces; and the smallest details, all elegant and appropriate, gave the mind and eye a sense of repose and of poetry which a clever and loving woman can and ought to infuse into her home.
Madame Sechard, still in mourning for her father, sat by the fire working at some large piece of tapestry with the help of Madame Kolb, the housekeeper, to whom she intrusted all the minor cares of the household.
"A chaise has stopped at the door!" said Courtois, hearing the sound of wheels outside; "and to judge by the clatter of metal, it belongs to these parts----"
"Postel and his wife have come to see us, no doubt," said the doctor.
"No," said Courtois, "the chaise has come from Mansle."
"Montame," said Kolb, the burly Alsatian we have made acquaintance with in a former volume (Illusions perdues), "here is a lawyer from Paris who wants to speak with monsieur."
"A lawyer!" cried Sechard; "the very word gives me the colic!"
"Thank you!" said the Maire of Marsac, named Cachan, who for twenty years had been an attorney at Angouleme, and who had once been required to prosecute Sechard.
"My poor David will never improve; he will always be absent-minded!" said Eve, smiling.
"A lawyer from Paris," said Courtois. "Have you any business in Paris?"
"No," said Eve.
"But you have a brother there," observed Courtois.
"Take care lest he should have anything to say about old Sechard's estate," said Cachan. "HE had his finger in some very queer concerns, worthy man!"
Corentin and Derville, on entering the room, after bowing to the company, and giving their names, begged to have a private interview with Monsieur and Madame Sechard.
"By all means," said Sechard. "But is it a matter of business?"
"Solely a matter regarding your father's property," said Corentin.
"Then I beg you will allow monsieur--the Maire, a lawyer formerly at Angouleme--to be present also."
"Are you Monsieur Derville?" said Cachan, addressing Corentin.
"No, monsieur, this is Monsieur Derville," replied Corentin, introducing the lawyer, who bowed.
"But," said Sechard, "we are, so to speak, a family party; we have no secrets from our neighbors; there is no need to retire to my study, where there is no fire--our life is in the sight of all men----"
"But your father's," said Corentin, "was involved in certain mysteries which perhaps you would rather not make public."
"Is it anything we need blush for?" said Eve, in alarm.
"Oh, no! a sin of his youth," said Corentin, coldly setting one of his mouse-traps. "Monsieur, your father left an elder son----"
"Oh, the old rascal!" cried Courtois. "He was never very fond of you, Monsieur Sechard, and he kept that secret from you, the deep old dog! --Now I understand what he meant when he used to say to me, 'You shall see what you shall see when I am under the turf.' "
"Do not be dismayed, monsieur," said Corentin to Sechard, while he watched Eve out of the corner of his eye.
"A brother!" exclaimed the doctor. "Then your inheritance is divided into two!"
Derville was affecting to examine the fine engravings, proofs before letters, which hung on the drawing-room walls.
"Do not be dismayed, madame," Corentin went on, seeing amazement written on Madame Sechard's handsome features, "it is only a natural son. The rights of a natural son are not the same as those of a legitimate child. This man is