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Updated: May 29, 2025
You can understand, Lucien, that our men opened eyes as big as saucers. By the by, I see that you have saucers still left." "They are attached," explained Coralie. "I understand, and I resume. Show a publisher one manuscript volume and he will believe in all the rest. A publisher asks to see your manuscript, and gives you to understand that he is going to read it. Why disturb his harmless vanity?
She handed me the instrument, and I said "Hello." It was Coralie! She spoke very distinctly, and Alathea, who was near, must have been able to hear most of the words in the silence. "Nicholas, I am going to be by myself this evening, you will have a dinner for me? Just us alone, hein?" I permitted my face to express pleasure and amusement. My wife watched me agitatedly. "Non, chère Amie Alas!
Her air was one of subdued modesty and gentleness, and when I congratulated her she made the tenderest acceptance of it, which would have done justice to a young virgin of the ancien regime! Coralie met my eye with her shrewd small ones, and we looked away! After lunch we sat in the hall for a little, Maurice taking Alice to try on her clothes, so Coralie and I were left alone.
Florine was jealous of her, and Florine was as dangerous and depraved as Coralie was simple and generous. Roles must come to find Coralie; she was too proud to implore authors or to submit to dishonoring conditions; she would not give herself to the first journalist who persecuted her with his advances and threatened her with his pen.
As the rooms emptied, he drew Mlle. des Touches to a sofa in the boudoir, and told the story of Coralie's misfortune and his own so touchingly, that Mlle. des Touches promised to give the heroine's part to his friend. That promise put new life into Coralie.
When she came up again she held the warrants, in which Lucien was described as a tradesman, in her hand. How had she obtained those papers from Camusot? What promise had she given? Coralie kept a sad, gloomy silence, but when she returned she looked as if all the life had gone out of her.
The way in which that Calverley talks slang, is quite disgusting. I hate chaff in a woman. And old Colchicum! that old Col, coming down here in his brougham, with his coronet on it, and sitting bodkin between Mademoiselle Coralie and her mother! It's too bad. An English peer, and a horse-rider of Franconi's! It won't do; by Jove, it won't do. I ain't proud; but it will not do!"
The three stayed with Lucien, trying to soothe his despair with comforting words; but every spring seemed to be broken. All the men accompanied the actress to her last resting-place in Pere Lachaise. Camusot, shedding hot tears, had solemnly promised Lucien to buy the grave in perpetuity, and to put a headstone above it with the words: CORALIE August, 1822
Coralie put her arms about her lover and kissed him, and thought him a model son and brother; she could not make enough of him, for generosity is a trait of character which delights these kindly creatures, who always carry their hearts in their hands. "We have a dinner now every day for a week," she said; "we will make a little carnival; you have worked quite hard enough."
The old campaigner swung his loaded cane, and went down coughing as usual. Out in the street he was amazed to see a handsome carriage waiting on the boulevard for Lucien. "You are the army nowadays," he said, "and we are the civilians." "Upon my word," said Lucien, as he drove away with Coralie, "these young writers seem to me to be the best fellows alive.
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