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Updated: June 5, 2025
Elodie can scarcely put up with herself. She gives orders in writing to tradesmen now and subscribes herself 'Madame La Colonelle Patou. She has turned down a bird engagement offered by Moignon, as beneath her present dignity. You had better come home as soon as you can." Andrew laughed and threw the letter away. He had far more serious things to attend to than Elodie's pretty foibles.
"I never did you the wrong, my dear, of thinking you would feel otherwise." "Neither did I, my good Elodie," said Bakkus, hurriedly opportunist. "If I have had one ambition in my life it is to sun myself in the vicarious glamour of a hero." The corsets rolled off Elodie's lap as she turned swiftly. "You really think Andre if he enlists in the English Army will be a hero?"
If Andre thinks it is his duty to fight for England, it may be mad, but it is fine, all the same. Yesterday, in the street, I sang the Marseillaise with the rest. 'Amour sacre de la Patrie. Eh bien! There are other countries besides France. Do you deny that the amour sacre exists for the Englishman?" Andrew rose and gravely took Elodie's face in his delicate hands and kissed her.
Bakkus threw a pair of Elodie's corsets which encumbered the other end of the sofa on which he was lounging on to the floor and put up his feet and sucked at his cigar, one of Andrew's best the box, by the way, Elodie, who kept the key of a treasure cupboard, seldom brought out except for Bakkus and said: "Andrew isn't a very intellectual being. He bases his actions on formulas.
She is going to marry me because there's no possibility of any kind of illusion whatsoever. My good brother whom, I grieve to say, is in the very worst of health, informs me that he has made a will in my favour. Heaven knows, I am contented enough as I am. But, the fact remains, which no doubt will ease our dear frie mind, that Elodie's future is assured.
Like a sweet echo of his thoughts, Élodie's voice sighed in his ear: "Do you remember, Évariste, how, at sight of the green fields, you wanted to be a country justice in a village? Yes, that would be happiness." But above the rustling of the trees and the girl's voice, he could hear the tocsin and alarm-drums, the distant tramp of horses, and rumbling of cannon along the streets.
Where in this universe, then, could I find a fitter mate than Elodie? Which brings me back, although I'm aware of glaring psychological flaws, to my Touchstone and Audrey prelude. Writing, as I am doing, in a devil of a hurry, I don't pretend to Meredithean analysis. Elodie's refusal to marry Andrew Lackaday had something to do a woman's illusions.
Then Elodie's swift brain conceived a daring idea. "You would have to train the assistant." "Of course. But," he added in a dismal tone, "most of the assistants I have seen are abysmally stupid. They are dummies. They give nothing of themselves, for the performer to act up to."
He bent over the work, and the girl's ringlets swept lightly over his cheek. Their hands met and their breaths mingled. For an instant Évariste tasted an ecstatic bliss, but to feel Élodie's lips so close to his own filled him with fear, and dreading to alarm her modesty, he drew back quickly.
The pleading dog's look in Elodie's eyes was too much for him. He felt powerless to resist. His brain worked swiftly, devising all kinds of artistic possibilities. Besides, was not Fate accomplishing itself by presenting this solution of both their difficulties? "I wonder whether you would care to try the experiment?"
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