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Updated: June 26, 2025
When the ceremony came to an end, there followed the happiness of the return home. Henri awaited their appearance at the door; the evenings grew warmer, and they wended their way through the dark, still streets of Passy, while scarce a word passed between them. "How devout you are getting, my dear!" said Madame Deberle one night, with a laugh.
In accordance with the rules of politeness, every head was turned towards her. But in the general stillness which ensued the deep voices of the men conversing in the small drawing-room could be heard. Madame Deberle was in despair. "They are a nuisance!" she muttered. "Let them stay there, if they don't want to come in; but at least they ought to hold their tongues!"
She railed at herself for her own painful repugnance when Juliette had shaken hands with her. Madame Deberle had now seemingly become reconciled with Malignon; she had curled up her little plump figure in an easy-chair, where she sat listening gleefully to his jests. Monsieur Deberle happened to pass them. "You're surely not quarrelling to-night?" asked he.
But what is Juliette dreaming about? She has been ever so long dressing Lucien!" Just at that moment Madame Deberle entered, leading the little marquis, and everybody present began raising admiring remarks. "Oh! what a love! What a darling he is!" His coat was of white satin embroidered with flowers, his long waistcoat was embroidered with gold, and his knee-breeches were of cherry-colored silk.
Her eyes often closed with weariness; her face was flushed; she had a bitter taste in her mouth; her lips were clammy, and she could scarcely articulate. When Juliette called, she could not exclude her from the bedroom, but allowed her to stay for a little while beside the bed. "My dear," Madame Deberle said to her one day in friendly tones, "you give way too much. Keep up your spirits."
The old woman wished to turn over, and Helene, drawing off her gloves, gently took hold of her and placed her as she desired. As she was still bending over her the door opened, and a flush of surprise mounted to her cheeks as she saw Dr. Deberle entering. Did he also make visits to which he never referred? "It's the doctor!" blurted out the old woman. "Oh!
Still, he climbed the stairs every other day to inquire how Jeanne was getting on, and sometimes chatted with his brother professional, Doctor Deberle, who paid him all the deference due to an elder. Moreover, it was useless to try to deceive Jeanne. Her senses had become wondrously acute. The Abbe and Monsieur Rambaud paid a visit every night; they sat down and spent an hour in sad silence.
For a time one could hear the noisy twittering of some sparrows quarrelling on the lawn. Before resuming her seat, Madame Deberle proceeded to draw down the embroidered tulle blind of a window facing her, and then returned to her sofa in the mellowed, golden light of the room. "I beg pardon," she now said. "We have had quite an invasion."
And as the hearse passed along the sunny street like a car symbolical of springtide, a number of white pigeons wheeled over the mourners' heads. "Good heavens! how annoying!" exclaimed Madame Deberle when she saw the procession start off. "If only Henri had postponed that consultation! I told him how it would be!"
Thereupon he began gravely pondering, sucking the head of his cane all the while. Pauline came up at the moment, and proclaimed her desire to appear as a soubrette. "You!" screamed Madame Deberle, in astonishment. "You won't appear in costume at all! Do you think yourself a child, you great stupid? You will oblige me by coming in a white dress."
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