The Deputy of Arcis [2]
learning the marriage of his brother the artillery officer to the daughter of a rich banker of Hamburg. It is well known what a fancy all Europe had for the splendid troopers of Napoleon!
In 1814, Madame Marion, half-ruined, returned to Arcis, her native place, where she bought, on the Grande-Place, one of the finest houses in the town. Accustomed to receive much company at Troyes, where the receiver-general reigned supreme, she now opened her salon to the notabilities of the liberal party in Arcis. A woman accustomed to the advantages of salon royalty does not easily renounce them. Vanity is the most tenacious of all habits.
Bonapartist, and afterwards a liberal--for, by the strangest of metamorphoses, the soldiers of Napoleon became almost to a man enamoured of the constitutional system--Colonel Giguet was, during the Restoration, the natural president of the governing committee of Arcis, which consisted of the notary Grevin, his son-in-law Beauvisage, and Varlet junior, the chief physician of Arcis, brother- in-law of Grevin, and a few other liberals.
"If our dear boy is not nominated," said Madame Marion, having first looked into the antechamber and garden to make sure that no one overheard her, "he cannot have Mademoiselle Beauvisage; his success in this election means a marriage with Cecile."
"Cecile!" exclaimed the old man, opening his eyes very wide and looking at his sister in stupefaction.
"There is no one but you in the whole department who would forget the /dot/ and the expectations of Mademoiselle Beauvisage," said his sister.
"She is the richest heiress in the department of the Aube," said Simon Giguet.
"But it seems to me," said the old soldier, "that my son is not to be despised as a match; he is your heir, he already has something from his mother, and I expect to leave him something better than a dry name."
"All that put together won't make thirty thousand a year, and suitors are already coming forward who have as much as that, not counting their position," returned Madame Marion.
"And?" asked the colonel.
"They have been refused."
"Then what do the Beauvisage family want?" said the colonel, looking alternately at his son and sister.
It may seem extraordinary that Colonel Giguet, the brother of Madame Marion in whose house the society of Arcis had met for twenty-four years, and whose salon was the echo of all reports, all scandals, and all the gossip of the department of the Aube,--a good deal of it being there manufactured,--should be ignorant of facts of this nature. But his ignorance will seem natural when we mention that this noble relic of the Napoleonic legions went to bed at night and rose in the morning with the chickens, as all old persons should do if they wish to live out their lives. He was never present at the intimate conversations which went on in the salon. In the provinces there are two sorts of intimate conversation,--one, which is held officially when all the company are gathered together, playing at cards or conversing; the other, which /simmers/, like a well made soup, when three or four friends remain around the fireplace, friends who can be trusted to repeat nothing of what is said beyond their own limits.
For nine years, ever since the triumph of his political ideas, the colonel had lived almost entirely outside of social life. Rising with the sun, he devoted himself to horticulture; he adored flowers, and of all flowers he best loved roses. His hands were brown as those of a real gardener; he took care himself of his beds. Constantly in conference with his working gardener he mingled little, especially for the last two years, with the life of others; of whom, indeed, he saw little. He took but one meal with the family, namely, his dinner; for he rose too early to breakfast with his son and sister. To his efforts we owe the famous rose Giguet, known so well to all amateurs.
This old man, who had now passed into the state of a domestic fetich, was exhibited, as we may well suppose, on all extraordinary occasions. Certain families enjoy the
In 1814, Madame Marion, half-ruined, returned to Arcis, her native place, where she bought, on the Grande-Place, one of the finest houses in the town. Accustomed to receive much company at Troyes, where the receiver-general reigned supreme, she now opened her salon to the notabilities of the liberal party in Arcis. A woman accustomed to the advantages of salon royalty does not easily renounce them. Vanity is the most tenacious of all habits.
Bonapartist, and afterwards a liberal--for, by the strangest of metamorphoses, the soldiers of Napoleon became almost to a man enamoured of the constitutional system--Colonel Giguet was, during the Restoration, the natural president of the governing committee of Arcis, which consisted of the notary Grevin, his son-in-law Beauvisage, and Varlet junior, the chief physician of Arcis, brother- in-law of Grevin, and a few other liberals.
"If our dear boy is not nominated," said Madame Marion, having first looked into the antechamber and garden to make sure that no one overheard her, "he cannot have Mademoiselle Beauvisage; his success in this election means a marriage with Cecile."
"Cecile!" exclaimed the old man, opening his eyes very wide and looking at his sister in stupefaction.
"There is no one but you in the whole department who would forget the /dot/ and the expectations of Mademoiselle Beauvisage," said his sister.
"She is the richest heiress in the department of the Aube," said Simon Giguet.
"But it seems to me," said the old soldier, "that my son is not to be despised as a match; he is your heir, he already has something from his mother, and I expect to leave him something better than a dry name."
"All that put together won't make thirty thousand a year, and suitors are already coming forward who have as much as that, not counting their position," returned Madame Marion.
"And?" asked the colonel.
"They have been refused."
"Then what do the Beauvisage family want?" said the colonel, looking alternately at his son and sister.
It may seem extraordinary that Colonel Giguet, the brother of Madame Marion in whose house the society of Arcis had met for twenty-four years, and whose salon was the echo of all reports, all scandals, and all the gossip of the department of the Aube,--a good deal of it being there manufactured,--should be ignorant of facts of this nature. But his ignorance will seem natural when we mention that this noble relic of the Napoleonic legions went to bed at night and rose in the morning with the chickens, as all old persons should do if they wish to live out their lives. He was never present at the intimate conversations which went on in the salon. In the provinces there are two sorts of intimate conversation,--one, which is held officially when all the company are gathered together, playing at cards or conversing; the other, which /simmers/, like a well made soup, when three or four friends remain around the fireplace, friends who can be trusted to repeat nothing of what is said beyond their own limits.
For nine years, ever since the triumph of his political ideas, the colonel had lived almost entirely outside of social life. Rising with the sun, he devoted himself to horticulture; he adored flowers, and of all flowers he best loved roses. His hands were brown as those of a real gardener; he took care himself of his beds. Constantly in conference with his working gardener he mingled little, especially for the last two years, with the life of others; of whom, indeed, he saw little. He took but one meal with the family, namely, his dinner; for he rose too early to breakfast with his son and sister. To his efforts we owe the famous rose Giguet, known so well to all amateurs.
This old man, who had now passed into the state of a domestic fetich, was exhibited, as we may well suppose, on all extraordinary occasions. Certain families enjoy the