LAbbe Constantin, vol 2 | Page 5

and became in some
measure the image of one and the same person. Any parallel became
impossible between them, thanks to this singular confusion of the two
points of comparison. Mrs. Scott and Miss Percival remained thus
inseparable in the thoughts of Jean until the day when it was granted to
him to see them again. The impression of that meeting was not effaced;
it was always there, persistent, and very sweet, till Jean began to feel
disturbed.
"Is it possible"--so ran his meditations--"is it possible that I have been
guilty of the folly of falling in love madly at first sight? No; one might
fall in love with a woman, but not with two women at once."
That thought reassured him. He was very young, this great fellow of
four-and-twenty; never had love entered fully into his heart. Love! He
knew very little about it, except from books, and he had read but few of
them. But he was no angel; he could find plenty of attractions in the
grisettes of Souvigny, and when they would allow him to tell them that
they were charming, he was quite ready to do so, but it had never
entered his head to regard as love those passing fancies, which only
caused the slightest and most superficial disturbance in his heart.
Paul de Lavardens had marvellous powers of enthusiasm and
idealization. His heart sheltered always two or three grandes passions,
which lived there in perfect harmony. Paul had been so clever as to
discover, in this little town of 15,000 souls, numbers of pretty girls, all

made to be adored. He always believed himself the discoverer of
America, when, in fact, he had done nothing but follow in the track of
other navigators.
The world-Jean had scarcely encountered it. He had allowed himself to
be dragged by Paul, a dozen times, perhaps, to soirees or balls at the
great houses of the neighborhood. He had invariably returned
thoroughly bored, and had concluded that these pleasures were not
made for him. His tastes were simple, serious. He loved solitude, work,
long walks, open space, horses, and books. He was rather savage--a son
of the soil. He loved his village, and all the old friends of his childhood.
A quadrille in a drawing-room caused him unspeakable terror; but
every year, at the festival of the patron saint of Longueval, he danced
gayly with the young girls and farmers' daughters of the neighborhood.
If he had seen Mrs. Scott and Miss Percival at home in Paris, in all the
splendor of their luxury, in all the perfection of their costly
surroundings, he would have looked at them from afar, with curiosity,
as exquisite works of art. Then he would have returned home, and
would have slept, as usual, the most peaceful slumber in the world.
Yes, but it was not thus that the thing had come to pass, and hence his
excitement, hence his disturbance. These two women had shown
themselves before him in the midst of a circle with which he was
familiar, and which had been, if only for this reason, singularly
favorable to them. Simple, good, frank, cordial, such they had shown
themselves the very first day, and delightfully pretty into the bargain--a
fact which is never insignificant. Jean fell at once under the charm; he
was there still!
At the moment when he dismounted in the barrack-yard, at nine o'clock,
the old priest began his campaign joyously. Since the previous evening
the Abbe's head had been on fire; Jean had not slept much, but he had
not slept at all. He had risen very early, and with closed doors, alone
with Pauline, he had counted and recounted his money, spreading out
his one hundred Louis-d'or, gloating over them like a miser, and like a
miser finding exquisite pleasure in handling his hoard. All that was his!
for him! that is to say, for the poor.

"Do not be too lavish, Monsieur le Cure," said Pauline; "be economical.
I think that if you distribute to-day one hundred francs--"
"That is not enough, Pauline. I shall only have one such day in my life,
but one I will have. How much do you think I shall give to-day?"
"How much, Monsieur le Cure?"
"One thousand francs!"
"One thousand francs!"
"Yes. We are millionaires now; we possess all the treasures of America,
and you talk about economy? Not to-day, at all events; indeed, I have
no right to think of it."
After saying mass at nine o'clock he set out and showered gold along
his way. All had a share--the poor who acknowledged their poverty and
those who concealed it. Each alms was accompanied by the same little
discourse:
"This comes from the new owners of the Longueval--two American
ladies, Mrs. Scott and Miss Percival. Remember