The Country Doctor [61]
life out with my failings? He would perhaps work himself to death to satisfy my whims, and that would not be right. Pshaw! an unlucky lot has fallen to me, and I ought to bear it by myself."
"And besides, she is a born do-nothing," said Benassis. "We must take my poor Fosseuse as we find her. But all that she has been saying to you simply means that she has never loved as yet," he added, smiling. Then he rose and went out on to the lawn for a moment.
"You must be very fond of M. Benassis?" asked Genestas.
"Oh! yes, sir; and there are plenty of people hereabouts who feel as I do--that they would be glad to do anything in the world for him. And yet he who cures other people has some trouble of his own that nothing can cure. You are his friend, perhaps you know what it is? Who could have given pain to such a man, who is the very image of God on earth? I know a great many who think that the corn grows faster if he has passed by their field in the morning."
"And what do you think yourself?"
"I, sir? When I have seen him," she seemed to hesitate, then she went on, "I am happy all the rest of the day."
She bent her head over her work, and plied her needle with unwonted swiftness.
"Well, has the captain been telling you something about Napoleon?" said the doctor, as he came in again.
"Have you seen the Emperor, sir?" cried La Fosseuse, gazing at the officer's face with eager curiosity.
"PARBLEU!" said Genestas, "hundreds of times!"
"Oh! how I should like to know something about the army!"
"Perhaps we will come to take a cup of coffee with you to-morrow, and you shall hear 'something about the army,' dear child," said Benassis, who laid his hand on her shoulder and kissed her brow. "She is my daughter, you see!" he added, turning to the commandant; "there is something wanting in the day, somehow, when I have not kissed her forehead."
La Fosseuse held Benassis' hand in a tight clasp as she murmured, "Oh! you are very kind!"
They left the house; but she came after them to see them mount. She waited till Genestas was in the saddle, and then whispered in Benassis' ear, "Tell me who that gentleman is?"
"Aha!" said the doctor, putting a foot in the stirrup, "a husband for you, perhaps."
She stood on the spot where they left her, absorbed in watching their progress down the steep path; and when they came past the end of the garden, they saw her already perched on a little heap of stones, so that she might still keep them in view and give them a last nod of farewell.
"There is something very unusual about that girl, sir," Genestas said to the doctor when they had left the house far behind.
"There is, is there not?" he answered. "Many a time I have said to myself that she will make a charming wife, but I can only love her as a sister or a daughter, and in no other way; my heart is dead."
"Has she any relations?" asked Genestas. "What did her father and mother do?"
"Oh, it is quite a long story," answered Benassis. "Neither her father nor mother nor any of her relations are living. Everything about her down to her name interested me. La Fosseuse was born here in the town. Her father, a laborer from Saint Laurent du Pont, was nicknamed Le Fosseur, which is no doubt a contraction of fossoyeur, for the office of sexton had been in his family time out of mind. All the sad associations of the graveyard hang about the name. Here as in some other parts of France, there is an old custom, dating from the times of the Latin civilization, in virtue of which a woman takes her husband's name, with the addition of a feminine termination, and this girl has been called La Fosseuse, after her father.
"The laborer had married the waiting-woman of some countess or other who owns an estate at a distance of a few leagues. It was a love- match. Here, as in all country districts, love is a very small element in a marriage. The peasant, as a rule, wants a wife who will bear him children, a housewife who will make good soup and take it out to him in the fields, who will spin and make his shirts and mend his
"And besides, she is a born do-nothing," said Benassis. "We must take my poor Fosseuse as we find her. But all that she has been saying to you simply means that she has never loved as yet," he added, smiling. Then he rose and went out on to the lawn for a moment.
"You must be very fond of M. Benassis?" asked Genestas.
"Oh! yes, sir; and there are plenty of people hereabouts who feel as I do--that they would be glad to do anything in the world for him. And yet he who cures other people has some trouble of his own that nothing can cure. You are his friend, perhaps you know what it is? Who could have given pain to such a man, who is the very image of God on earth? I know a great many who think that the corn grows faster if he has passed by their field in the morning."
"And what do you think yourself?"
"I, sir? When I have seen him," she seemed to hesitate, then she went on, "I am happy all the rest of the day."
She bent her head over her work, and plied her needle with unwonted swiftness.
"Well, has the captain been telling you something about Napoleon?" said the doctor, as he came in again.
"Have you seen the Emperor, sir?" cried La Fosseuse, gazing at the officer's face with eager curiosity.
"PARBLEU!" said Genestas, "hundreds of times!"
"Oh! how I should like to know something about the army!"
"Perhaps we will come to take a cup of coffee with you to-morrow, and you shall hear 'something about the army,' dear child," said Benassis, who laid his hand on her shoulder and kissed her brow. "She is my daughter, you see!" he added, turning to the commandant; "there is something wanting in the day, somehow, when I have not kissed her forehead."
La Fosseuse held Benassis' hand in a tight clasp as she murmured, "Oh! you are very kind!"
They left the house; but she came after them to see them mount. She waited till Genestas was in the saddle, and then whispered in Benassis' ear, "Tell me who that gentleman is?"
"Aha!" said the doctor, putting a foot in the stirrup, "a husband for you, perhaps."
She stood on the spot where they left her, absorbed in watching their progress down the steep path; and when they came past the end of the garden, they saw her already perched on a little heap of stones, so that she might still keep them in view and give them a last nod of farewell.
"There is something very unusual about that girl, sir," Genestas said to the doctor when they had left the house far behind.
"There is, is there not?" he answered. "Many a time I have said to myself that she will make a charming wife, but I can only love her as a sister or a daughter, and in no other way; my heart is dead."
"Has she any relations?" asked Genestas. "What did her father and mother do?"
"Oh, it is quite a long story," answered Benassis. "Neither her father nor mother nor any of her relations are living. Everything about her down to her name interested me. La Fosseuse was born here in the town. Her father, a laborer from Saint Laurent du Pont, was nicknamed Le Fosseur, which is no doubt a contraction of fossoyeur, for the office of sexton had been in his family time out of mind. All the sad associations of the graveyard hang about the name. Here as in some other parts of France, there is an old custom, dating from the times of the Latin civilization, in virtue of which a woman takes her husband's name, with the addition of a feminine termination, and this girl has been called La Fosseuse, after her father.
"The laborer had married the waiting-woman of some countess or other who owns an estate at a distance of a few leagues. It was a love- match. Here, as in all country districts, love is a very small element in a marriage. The peasant, as a rule, wants a wife who will bear him children, a housewife who will make good soup and take it out to him in the fields, who will spin and make his shirts and mend his