Modeste Mignon | Page 7

the latter.
The entrance to the Chalet is by a little trellised iron door, the uprights
of which, ending in lance-heads, show for a few inches above the fence
and its hedge. The little garden, about as wide as the more pretentious
lawn, was just now filled with flowers, roses, and dahlias of the
choicest kind, and many rare products of the hot-houses, for (another
Vilquinard grievance) the elegant little hot-house, a very whim of a
hot-house, a hot-house representing dignity and style, belonged to the
Chalet, and separated, or if you prefer, united it to the villa Vilquin.
Dumay consoled himself for the toils of business in taking care of this
hot-house, whose exotic treasures were one of Modeste's joys. The
billiard-room of the villa Vilquin, a species of gallery, formerly
communicated through an immense aviary with this hot-house. But

after the building of the wall which deprived him of a view into the
orchards, Dumay bricked up the door of communication. "Wall for
wall!" he said.
In 1827 Vilquin offered Dumay a salary of six thousand francs, and ten
thousand more as indemnity, if he would give up the lease. The cashier
refused; though he had but three thousand francs from Gobenheim, a
former clerk of his master. Dumay was a Breton transplanted by fate
into Normandy. Imagine therefore the hatred conceived for the tenants
of the Chalet by the Norman Vilquin, a man worth three millions! What
criminal leze-million on the part of a cashier, to hold up to the eyes of
such a man the impotence of his wealth! Vilquin, whose desperation in
the matter made him the talk of Havre, had just proposed to give
Dumay a pretty house of his own, and had again been refused. Havre
itself began to grow uneasy at the man's obstinacy, and a good many
persons explained it by the phrase, "Dumay is a Breton." As for the
cashier, he thought Madame and Mademoiselle Mignon would be
ill-lodged elsewhere. His two idols now inhabited a temple worthy of
them; the sumptuous little cottage gave them a home, where these
dethroned royalties could keep the semblance of majesty about them,--a
species of dignity usually denied to those who have seen better days.
Perhaps as the story goes on, the reader will not regret having learned
in advance a few particulars as to the home and the habitual
companions of Modeste Mignon, for, at her age, people and things have
as much influence upon the future life as a person's own character,--
indeed, character often receives ineffaceable impressions from its
surroundings.


CHAPTER II
A PORTRAIT FROM LIFE
From the manner with which the Latournelles entered the Chalet a

stranger would readily have guessed that they came there every
evening.
"Ah, you are here already," said the notary, perceiving the young
banker Gobenheim, a connection of Gobenheim-Keller, the head of the
great banking house in Paris.
This young man with a livid face--a blonde of the type with black eyes,
whose immovable glance has an indescribable fascination, sober in
speech as in conduct, dressed in black, lean as a consumptive, but
nevertheless vigorously framed--visited the family of his former master
and the house of his cashier less from affection than from self-interest.
Here they played whist at two sous a point; a dress- coat was not
required; he accepted no refreshment except "eau sucree," and
consequently had no civilities to return. This apparent devotion to the
Mignon family allowed it to be supposed that Gobenheim had a heart;
it also released him from the necessity of going into the society of
Havre and incurring useless expenses, thus upsetting the orderly
economy of his domestic life. This disciple of the golden calf went to
bed at half-past ten o'clock and got up at five in the morning. Moreover,
being perfectly sure of Latournelle's and Butscha's discretion, he could
talk over difficult business matters, obtain the advice of the notary
gratis, and get an inkling of the real truth of the gossip of the street.
This stolid gold-glutton (the epithet is Butscha's) belonged by nature to
the class of substances which chemistry terms absorbents. Ever since
the catastrophe of the house of Mignon, where the Kellers had placed
him to learn the principles of maritime commerce, no one at the Chalet
had ever asked him to do the smallest thing, no matter what; his reply
was too well known. The young fellow looked at Modeste precisely as
he would have looked at a cheap lithograph.
"He's one of the pistons of the big engine called 'Commerce,'" said poor
Butscha, whose clever mind made itself felt occasionally by such little
sayings timidly jerked out.
The four Latournelles bowed with the most respectful deference to an
old lady dressed in black velvet, who did not rise