Charlottes Inheritance | Page 6

might be happier in the society of a husband. I like your son; and
my wife, too, likes him better than any other young man of our
acquaintance. Madelon has seen a good deal of him when she has been
home from the convent in her holidays, and I have reason to think she
does not dislike him. If he likes her and she likes him, and the idea is
pleasing to you and madame, we will make a match of it. If not, let it
pass; we will say no more."
Again the seigneur of Beaubocage assured his friend that Gustave
would be enchanted with the proposal; and again it was of Côtenoir that
he thought, and not of the heart or the inclinations of his son.
This conversation took place late in autumn, and at the new year
Gustave was to come. Nothing was to be said to him about his intended
wife until he arrived; that was a point upon which the Baron insisted.
"The young man may have fallen in love with some fine young person
in Paris," he said; "and in that case we will say nothing to him of
Madelon. But if we find him with the heart free, and inclined to take to
my daughter, we may give him encouragement."
This was solemnly agreed between the two fathers. Nor was

Mademoiselle Frehlter to be told of the matrimonial scheme until it
ripened. But after this dinner at Côtenoir the household at Beaubocage
talked of little else than of the union of the two families. What grandeur,
what wealth, what happiness! Gustave the lord of Côtenoir! Poor
Cydalise had never seen a finer mansion than the old château, with its
sugar-loaf towers and stone terraces, and winding stairs, and tiny
inconvenient turret chambers, and long dreary salon and
salle-à-manger. She could picture to herself nothing more splendid. For
Gustave to be offered the future possession of Côtenoir was as if he
were suddenly to be offered the succession to a kingdom. She could not
bring herself to consider that Madelon was neither agreeable nor
attractive, and that, after all, the wife must count for something in every
marriage contract. She could see nothing, she could think of nothing,
but Côtenoir. The glory and grandeur of that estate absorbed every
other consideration.
No one of those three conspirators feared any opposition on the part of
their victim. It was just possible that Gustave might have fallen in love
with some Parisian damsel, though his letters gave no hint of any such
calamity. But if such a misfortune had happened, he would, of course,
fall out of love again, return the damsel her troth and obtain the return
of his own, and straightway offer the second-hand commodity to
Mademoiselle Frehlter.
The object of all these cares and hopes and dreams arrived at last, full
of life and spirits, with plenty to tell about Paris in general, and very
little to tell about himself in particular. The women questioned him
unmercifully. They insisted on a graphic description of every female
inmate of the boarding-house, and would scarcely believe that all
except the little music-mistress were elderly and unattractive. Of the
music-mistress herself they were inclined to be very suspicious, and
were not altogether reassured by Gustave's assertion that she was
neither pretty nor fascinating.
"She is a dear, good, industrious little thing," he said, "and works
harder than I do. But she is no miracle of beauty; and her life is so
dreary that I often wonder she does not go into a convent. It would be

gayer and pleasanter for her than to live with those old women at the
Pension Magnotte."
"I suppose there are many beautiful women in Paris?" said Cydalise,
bent upon knowing the worst.
"Well, I dare say there are," Gustave answered frankly; "but we
students don't see much of them in our quarter. One sees a pretty little
milliner's girl now and then, or a washerwoman. In short, there are a
good many grisettes in our part of the world," added the young man,
blushing, but for no sin of his own. "We get a glimpse of a handsome
woman sometimes, rattling past in her carriage; but in Paris handsome
women do not go on foot. I have seen prettier girls at Vevinord than in
Paris."
Cydalise was enchanted with this confession.
"Yes," she exclaimed, "our Normandy is the place for pretty girls.
Madelon Frehlter. for example, is not she a very--amiable girl?"
"I dare say she's amiable enough," answered Gustave; "but if there were
no prettier girls than Mademoiselle Frehlter in this part of the world,
we should have no cause to boast. But there are prettier girls, Cydalise,
and thou art thyself one of them."
After this speech the young man