La Mere Bauche | Page 9

by
these pledges. When she heard from his own mouth that he had
discarded her, then she would marry the capitaine--or indeed sacrifice
herself in any other way that La Mere Bauche might desire. What
would anything signify then?
Madame Bauche's spectacles remained unmoved; but not her heart.
Marie, she told the capitaine, should be equal to herself in the
establishment, when once she was entitled to be called Madame
Campan, and she should be to her quite as a daughter. She should have
her cup of coffee every evening, and dine at the big table, and wear a
silk gown at church, and the servants should all call her Madame; a
great career should be open to her, if she would only give up her foolish
girlish childish love for Adolphe. And all these great promises were
repeated to Marie by the capitaine.
But nevertheless there was but one thing in the world which in Marie's
eyes was of any value; and that one thing was the heart of Adolphe
Bauche. Without that she would be nothing; with that,--with that
assured, she could wait patiently till doomsday.
Letters were written to Adolphe during all these eventful doings; and a
letter came from him saying that he greatly valued Marie's love, but
that as it had been clearly proved to him that their marriage would be
neither for her advantage, nor for his, he was willing to give it up. He
consented to her marriage with the capitaine, and expressed his
gratitude to his mother for the pecuniary advantages which she had held
out to him. Oh, Adolphe, Adolphe! But, alas, alas! is not such the way
of most men's hearts--and of the hearts of some women?
This letter was read to Marie, but it had no more effect upon her than
would have had some dry legal document. In those days and in those
places men and women did not depend much upon letters; nor when
they were written, was there expressed in them much of heart or of
feeling. Marie would understand, as she was well aware, the glance of
Adolphe's eye and the tone of Adolphe's voice; she would perceive at
once from them what her lover really meant, what he wished, what in
the innermost corner of his heart he really desired that she should do.
But from that stiff constrained written document she could understand
nothing.

It was agreed therefore that Adolphe should return, and that she would
accept her fate from his mouth. The capitaine, who knew more of
human nature than poor Marie, felt tolerably sure of his bride. Adolphe,
who had seen something of the world, would not care very much for
the girl of his own valley. Money and pleasure, and some little position
in the world, would soon wean him from his love; and then Marie
would accept her destiny--as other girls in the same position had done
since the French world began.
And now it was the evening before Adolphe's expected arrival. La
Mere Bauche was discussing the matter with the capitaine over the
usual cup of coffee. Madame Bauche had of late become rather nervous
on the matter, thinking that they had been somewhat rash in acceding
so much to Marie. It seemed to her that it was absolutely now left to the
two young lovers to say whether or no they would have each other or
not. Now nothing on earth could be further from Madame Bauche's
intention than this. Her decree and resolve was to heap down blessings
on all persons concerned--provided always that she could have her own
way; but, provided she did not have her own way, to heap
down,--anything but blessings. She had her code of morality in this
matter. She would do good if possible to everybody around her. But she
would not on any score be induced to consent that Adolphe should
marry Marie Clavert. Should that be in the wind she would rid the
house of Marie, of the capitaine, and even of Adolphe himself.
She had become therefore somewhat querulous, and self-opinionated in
her discussions with her friend.
"I don't know," she said on the evening in question; "I don't know. It
may be all right; but if Adolphe turns against me, what are we to do
then?"
"Mere Bauche," said the capitaine, sipping his coffee and puffing out
the smoke of his cigar, "Adolphe will not turn against us." It had been
somewhat remarked by many that the capitaine was more at home in
the house, and somewhat freer in his manner of talking with Madame
Bauche, since this matrimonial alliance had been on the tapis than he
had ever been before. La Mere herself observed it, and did not quite
like it; but how could she prevent it