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"Listen, Eve," he continued, seeming to bethink himself; "you have no faith in me now; you do not trust me, so it is not likely you will trust Petit-Claud; but in ten or twelve days you will change your mind," he added, with a touch of fatuity. And he went to his room, and indited the following epistle to Lousteau: Lucien to Lousteau.
Shea was a heavy man, and by the time Lucien had him aboard he was ready to faint from exhaustion and the loss of blood. Now he must pump up over the little hill; for if the express should come round the curve and fall down the grade, the hand-car would be in greater danger than ever.
A young officer of the party, Jacquemont, a relation of the former husband of the present Madame Lucien, observed that he thought it rather an evidence of the indifference of the French people to all religion; the consequence of the great havoc the tenets of infidelity and of atheism had made among the flocks of the faithful. To this assertion Joseph nodded an assent.
Eve, dearest, this is the first moment of pure and unmixed joy that fate has given to me! I do not think that Lucien can be as happy as I am." David felt Eve's hand, damp and quivering in his own, and a tear fell upon it. "May I not know the secret?" she pleaded coaxingly.
"It confirms some observations of my own. There is a spice of vanity in Lucien." "He is a poet," said d'Arthez. "But do you grudge me such a very natural feeling?" asked Lucien. "We should bear in mind that he did not hide it," said Leon Giraud; "he is still open with us; but I am afraid that he may come to feel shy of us." "And why?" Lucien asked.
Mme. de Bargeton renounced Lucien as Lucien himself had renounced her; a ghastly fear lest her cousin should learn the manner of her journey shot through her mind. "Dear cousin, I am in despair that I have compromised you." "People do not compromise me," Mme. d'Espard said, smiling; "I am only thinking of you." "But you have asked him to dine with you on Monday."
Jeanne and Lucien played at their feet. There would be long intervals of silence, and then Madame Deberle, who disliked reverie, would chatter for hours, quite satisfied with the silent acquiescence of Helene, and rattling off again if the other even so much as nodded.
Lucien, guided by his adviser, paid the recluse at Saint-Germain five or six visits. The merciless author of all these machinations thought this necessary to save Esther from pining to death, for her beauty was now their capital.
Suffering as we were, it was no use to think of resuming our journey; so we made a virtue of necessity, and remained stationary until we felt more fit to endure fatigue. In the afternoon, Sumichrast and Lucien complained that they were famished, which was an excellent symptom; so we took our guns, and, following in Indian file, ascended the course of the stream.
Silvia's eyes and mine had met in speechless horror since she had mentioned the "writing woman." "Lucien!" Silvia now said in a tragic, hoarse whisper "the Polydores!" "Oh, do you know them?" asked Miss Frayne. "Dr. Felix Polydore, the eminent LL.D. or something like that." "The whole family are D's," I said. "His wife is the highest of high-brows, and they are averse to interviews.
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