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Updated: June 21, 2025
Gilberte Favoral had just completed her eighteenth year. Rather tall, slender, her every motion betrayed the admirable proportions of her figure, and had that grace which results from the harmonious blending of litheness and strength.
Favoral and M. Chapelain entered a cab which had been sent for, and drove to M. de Thaller's. Left alone, Mlle. Gilberte had but one thought, to notify M. de Tregars, and obtain word from him. Any thing seemed preferable to the horrible anxiety which oppressed her.
Soon he appeared, showing out an old gentleman, who seemed utterly confused at the scene, and to whom he was screaming, "No, sir, no! 'The Financial Pilot' does not take that sort of business; and I find you very bold to come and propose to me a twopenny rascality." But, noticing Maxence, "M. Favoral!" he said. "By Jove! it is your good star that has brought you here.
"Then you must carry me there as I am," she said in a tone of defiance; "for I shall certainly not get up." For the first time since his marriage, M. Favoral met in his own house a more inflexible will than his own, and a more unyielding obstinacy. He was baffled. He threatened his daughter with his clinched fists, but could discover no means of making her obey.
There existed a soul within which she reigned supreme. What troubles would not a smile of her son have made her forget? With the admirable instinct of an egotist, M. Favoral understood so well what passed in the mind of his wife, that he dared not complain too much of what the little fellow cost.
She would be frightened; she would approve all; and, at the first alarm, she would confess all. "Am I, then, so weak and so foolish," she thought, "that I cannot take a determination which affects me personally?" She could not close her eyes all night; but in the morning her resolution was settled. And toward one o'clock: "Are we not going out mother?" she said. Mme. Favoral was hesitating.
"So we had," he replied with some embarrassment, "because he has never been willing to tell me why he had withdrawn; but people always make up again when they have interests in common." Formerly, before the war, M. Favoral would certainly never have condescended to enter into all these details. But he was becoming almost communicative. Mlle.
Favoral was terrified at this affected good nature. "Dear me!" she sighed, "what does it all mean?" But the cashier of the Mutual Credit was not preparing any new surprise to his family. If the means were different, it was still the same object that he was pursuing with the tenacity of an insect. When severity had failed, he hoped to succeed by gentleness, that's all.
"Private matters," he replied; "women's letters." "This will be moral evidence against you, sir." "I prefer it to material evidence." Without condescending to notice the impertinence, the commissary was casting a suspicious glance on Maxence and M. de Tregars. "Who are these gentlemen who were closeted with you?" he asked. "Visitors, sir. This is M. Favoral."
The confectioner and his wife were casting indignant glances at the proprietors of the Hotel des Folies. "You see, M. Favoral," replied Mme. Fortin, "such a girl as that was not made for our neighborhood. You must make up your mind to it; you won't see much more of her on the Boulevard du Temple." Without saying a word, Maxence ran to his room, the hot tears streaming from his eyes.
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