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As the Judge looked at Madame Barbille, he was involuntarily, but none the less industriously, noting her characteristics; and the sum of his reflections, after a few moments' talk, was that dangers he had seen ahead of Jean Jacques, would not be averted by his wife, indeed might easily have their origin in her.
I am no meddler, but I have had much kindness at the hands of Monsieur and Madame Barbille, and I will do what I can to protect them and their daughter that good and sweet daughter, from the machinations, corruptions and malfeasance " "Three damn good words for the Court, bagosh!" exclaimed Masson with a jeer.
If he had been a real genius, rather than a mere lively variation of the commonplace a chicken that could never burst its shell, a bird which could not quite break into song he might have made his biographer guess hard and futilely, as to what he would do after having seen his wife's arms around the neck of another man than himself a man little more than a manual labourer, while he, Jean Jacques Barbille, had come of the people of the Old Regime.
He had come early, because he had been unable to sleep well, and also he had much to do before keeping his tryst with Carmen Barbille in the afternoon. As he passed the Manor Cartier this fateful morning, he saw her at the window, and he waved his hat at her with a cheery salutation which she did not hear. He knew that she did not hear or see. "My beauty!" he said aloud.
"Peace and plenty, peace and plenty" that was the phrase M. Jean Jacques Barbille, miller and moneymaster, applied to his home-scene, when he was at the height of his career. Both winter and summer the place had a look of content and comfort, even a kind of opulence.
You get us between the upper and the nether mill stones. You are cosmopolitan; M. Jean Jacques Barbille is a provincial; and you, because he has soul enough to forget business for a moment and to speak of things that matter more than money and business, you grind him into powder." M. Mornay shook his head and lighted his cigar again. "There you are wrong, Maitre Fille.
Jean Jacques half rose from his seat in sudden rage, but he restrained himself, and sat down again. "She had one husband only one. It was Jean Jacques Barbille. She could only treat one as she treated me me, her husband. But you, what had you to do with that! You used her so!" He made a motion as though to stamp out an insect with his foot.
It was only when he offered his own reflections on Carmen Dolores, now Carmen Barbille, and on women generally, that Judge Carcasson pulled him up. "So, so, I see. She has temperament and so on, but she's unsteady, and regarded by her neighbours not quite as one that belongs. Bah, the conceit of every race! They are all the same. The English are the worst as though the good God was English.
"If you had a wife you would not be dying now. You would not then meddle with the home of Jean Jacques Barbille," sneered Jean Jacques. The note was savage yet. "Ah, for sure, for sure! It is so. And if I lived I would marry at once." Desperate as his condition was, the master-carpenter could almost have laughed at the idea of marriage preventing him from following the bent of his nature.
After a moment he came back, a familiar voice following him. "It is Monsieur Barbille, monsieur," M. Fille said quietly, but with apprehensive eyes. "Well he wants to see me?" asked M. Mornay. "No, no, monsieur. It would be better if he did not see you. He is in some agitation." "Fille! Maitre Fille be quick now," called Jean Jacques' voice from the other room.
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