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Paul de Lavardens had made his appearance on this scene, and had very rapidly become everybody's friend. He had received the brilliant and complicated education of a young man destined for pleasure. As soon as it was a question only of amusement, riding, croquet, lawn-tennis, polo, dancing, charades, and theatricals, he was ready for everything. He excelled in everything.
However, she received Paul very kindly, so kindly that for several days he had the weakness to misunderstand her. He believed that it was his personal graces which had obtained for him this very flattering and cordial reception. It was a great mistake. Paul de Lavardens had been introduced by Jean; he was the friend of Jean. In Bettina's eyes, therein lay all his merit. Mrs.
His superiority was evident, unquestionable. Paul became, in a short time, by general consent, the director and organizer of the fetes at Longueval. Bettina had not a moment of hesitation. Jean introduced Paul de Lavardens, and the latter had scarcely concluded the customary little compliment when Miss Percival, leaning toward her sister, whispered in her ear: "The thirty-fifth!"
The Abbe had still about a mile to walk before reaching the first houses of Souvigny, and was passing the park of Lavardens when he heard, above his head, voices calling to him: "Monsieur le Cure, Monsieur le Cure." At this spot adjoining the wall, a long alley of limetrees bordered the terrace, and the Abbe, raising his head, perceived Madame de Lavardens, and her son Paul.
This morning when we arrived, we met on the way a slight young man, with a fair mustache, he was riding a black horse, and bowed to us as we passed." "It was Paul de Lavardens, one of my friends; he has already had the honor of being introduced to you, but rather vaguely, and his ambition is to be presented again." "Well, you shall bring him one of these days," said Mrs. Scott.
What I wanted to say, in short, is that Miss Percival perhaps thinks I am agreeable; but as to considering me seriously, that little person will never commit such a folly. I must fall back upon Mrs. Scott, but without much confidence. You see, Jean, I shall amuse myself in this house, but I shall make nothing out of it." Paul de Lavardens did fall back upon Mrs.
"'But she does not wear a low gown on horseback; you have not seen her shoulders, and they are shoulders which ought to be seen. There is nothing better in Paris at this moment. "And I went to the ball, and I saw Mrs. Scott's red hair, and I saw Mrs. Scott's white shoulders, and I hope to see them again when there are balls at Longueval." "Paul!" said Madame de Lavardens, pointing to the Abbe.
Every one rushed on him, they surrounded they crushed him: 'The name, the name of the purchaser? 'It is an American, replied Gibert, 'Mrs. Scott." "Mrs. Scott!" cried Paul de Lavardens. "You know her?" asked Madame de Lavardens. "Do I know her? do I not at all. But I was at a ball at her house six weeks ago." "At a ball at her house! and you don't know her! What sort of woman is she, then?"
I am going to dine with you, godfather; I have warned Pauline of my visit; no time to stop to-day. I am on duty, and must be in quarters at three o'clock." "Stables?" asked Paul. "Yes. Good-by, Paul. To-morrow, godfather." The lieutenant galloped away. Paul de Lavardens gave his little horse her head. "What a capital fellow Jean is!" said Paul. "Oh, yes, indeed!"
Somewhere in America they have a silver mine, but a genuine mine, a real mine a mine with silver in it. Ah! we shall see what luxury will reign at Longueval! We shall all look like paupers beside them! It is said that they have 100,000 francs a day to spend." "Such are our neighbors!" cried Madame de Lavardens. "An adventuress! and that is the least of it a heretic, Monsieur l'Abbe, a Protestant!"
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