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Père Jerome waited a little before replying; then he said, very gently: "I suppose dad muss 'ave been by accyden', Madame Delphine?" The little father felt a wish one which he often had when weeping women were before him that he were an angel instead of a man, long enough to press the tearful cheek upon his breast, and assure the weeper God would not let the lawyers and judges hurt her.
Behind the counter, exchanging some last words with a busy-mannered man outside, who, in withdrawing, seemed bent on running over Madame Delphine, stood the man in blue cottonade, whom she had met in Père Jerome's doorway. Now, for the first time, she saw his face, its strong, grave, human kindness shining softly on each and every bronzed feature. The recognition was mutual.
"Monsieur, how idle are these cross-purposes!" she said, folding her fan. "Delphine," I continued, taking the fan, "tell me frankly which of these two men you prefer, the Marquis or his Excellency." "The Marquis? He is antiphlogistic, he is ice. Why should I freeze myself? I am frozen now, I need fire!" Her eyes burned as she spoke, and a faint red flushed her cheek.
The officers of the Government had not found him, nor had Père Jerome seen him; yet he believed they had, in a certain indirect way, devised a simple project by which they could at any time "figs dad law," providing only that these Government officials would give over their search; for, though he had not seen the fugitive, Madame Delphine had seen him, and had been the vehicle of communication between them.
Madame Delphine looked an instant into the upturned face, and then turned her own away, with a long, low cry of pain, looked again, and laying both hands upon the suppliant's head, said: "Oh, chère piti
He leaned on the back of a chair and listened. One spoke of the new gallery of the Tuileries, and the five pavilions, a remark which led us to architecture. "We all build our own houses," said Delphine, at last, "and then complain that they cramp us here, and the wind blows in there, while the fault is not in the order, but in us, who increase here and shrink there without reason."
One afternoon, some three weeks after Capitaine Lemaitre had called on Madame Delphine, the priest started to make a pastoral call and had hardly left the gate of his cottage, when a person, overtaking him, plucked his gown: "Père Jerome " He turned. The face that met his was so changed with excitement and distress that for an instant he did not recognize it. "Why, Madame Delphine "
Although Delphine has many more personages and much more action of the purely novel kind than Corinne, it is certainly not an interesting book; I think, though I have been reproached for, to say the least, lacking fervour as a Staelite, that Corinne is.
You will dine with me soon? Au revoir!" and she gave me her hand graciously, while Delphine bowed as if I were already gone, threw herself into a garden-chair, and commenced pouring the wine on a stone for a little tame snake which came out and lapped it. Such women as Mme. de St. Cyr have a species of magnetism about them.
And with the hot indignation of youth, he told the story of Mme. de Restaud's vanity and cruelty, of her father's final act of self-sacrifice, that had brought about this struggle between life and death, of the price that had been paid for Anastasie's golden embroideries. Delphine cried. "I shall look frightful," she thought. She dried her tears.
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