The Pomp of the Lavilettes | Page 4

people of Bonaventure like selling his
birthright), he was greatly surprised to find Monsieur Lavilette ready
with ten thousand dollars, to purchase the Manor Casimbault. Before
the parish had time to take breath Monsieur Casimbault had handed
over the deed, pocketed the money, and leaving the ancient heritage of
his family in the hands of the Lavilettes, (who forthwith prepared to
enter upon it, house and land), had hurried away to Quebec again
without any pangs of sentiment.
It was a little before this time that impertinent peasants in the parish
began to sing:
"O when you hear my little silver drum, And when I blow my little
gold trompette-a, You must drop your work and come, You must leave
your pride at home, And duck your heads before the Lavilette-a!"
Gatineau the miller, and Baby the keeper of the bridge, gave their own
reasons for the renewed progress of the Lavilettes. They met in
conference at the mill on the eve of the marriage of Sophie Lavilette to
Magon Farcinelle, farrier, farmer and member of the provincial
legislature, whose house lay behind the piece of maple wood, a mile or
so to the right of the Lavilettes' farmhouse. Farcinelle's engagement to
Sophie had come as a surprise to all, for, so far as people knew, there
had been no courting. Madame Lavilette had encouraged, had even
tempted, the spontaneous and jovial Farcinelle. Though he had never
made a speech in the House of Assembly, and it was hard to tell why he
was elected, save because everybody liked him, his official position
and his popularity held an important place in Madame Lavilette's
long-developed plans, which at last were to place her in a position
equal to that of the old seigneur, and launch her upon society at the
capital.
They had gone more than once to the capital, where their family had
been well-known fifty years before, but few doors had been opened to
them. They were farmers--only farmers--and Madame Lavilette made
no remarkable impression. Her dress was florid and not in excellent

taste, and her accent was rather crude. Sophie had gone to school at the
convent in the city, but she had no ambition. She had inherited the
stolid simplicity of her English grandfather. When her schooling was
finished she let her school friends drop, and came back to Bonaventure,
rather stately, given to reading, and little inclined to bother her head
about anybody.
Christine, the younger sister, had gone to Quebec also, but after a week
of rebellion, bad temper and sharp speaking, had come home again
without ceremony, and refused to return. Despite certain likenesses to
her mother, she had a deep, if unintelligible, admiration for her father,
and she never tired looking at the picture of her great-grandfather in the
dress of a chevalier of St. Louis--almost the only thing that had been
saved from the old Manor House, destroyed so long before her time.
Perhaps it was the importance she attached to her ancestry which made
her impatient with their present position, and with people in the parish
who would not altogether recognise their claims. It was that which
made her give a little jerky bow to the miller and the postmaster when
she passed the mill.
"Come, dusty-belly," said Baby, "what's all this pom-pom of the
Lavilettes?"
The miller pursed out his lips, contracted his brows, and arranged his
loose waistcoat carefully on his fat stomach.
"Money," said he, oracularly, as though he had solved the great
question of the universe.
"La! la! But other folks have money; and they step about Bonaventure
no more louder than a cat."
"Blood," added Gatineau, corrugating his brows still more.
"Bosh!"
"Both together--money and blood," rejoined the miller. Overcome by
his exertions, he wheezed so tremendously that great billows of

excitement raised his waistcoat, and a perspiration broke out upon his
mealy face, making a paste which the sun, through the open doorway,
immediately began to bake into a crust.
"Pah, the airs they have always had, those Lavilettes!" said Baby.
"They will not do this because it is not polite, they will not do that
because they are too proud. They say that once there was a baron in
their family. Who can tell how long ago! Perhaps when John the
Baptist was alive. What is that? Nothing. There is no baron now. All at
once somebody die a year ago, and leave them ten thousand dollars;
and then-- mais, there is the grand difference! They have save and save
twenty years to pay their debts and to buy a seigneury, like that baron
who live in the time of John the Baptist. Now it is to stand on a ladder
to speak to them. And when all's done, they marry Ma'm'selle Sophie to
a farrier,