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Updated: June 11, 2025
Camors, now not more than a couple of feet from him, was passing on, and his handsome countenance gave not the slightest sign of emotion. Suddenly, without changing a single line of his face, he drew rein, took the cigar from his lips, and said, in a tranquil voice: "Hello! You have no longer a wolf head!" "Ha! Then you know me?" cried Lescande. "Know you? Why not?"
Consequently, it seemed a little strange to him that the simple mother of the simple wife of simple Lescande should be able to bear his radiance with such calmness; and this brought him out of his premeditated reserve. He took the trouble to be irresistible not to Madame Lescande, to whom he was studiously respectful but to Madame Mursois.
Lescande departed, and the young Count remained immovable, with his features convulsed and his eyes fixed on vacancy. This moment decided his whole future. Sometimes a man feels a sudden, unaccountable impulse to smother in himself all human love and sympathy.
So he was not in the most agreeable frame of mind when he stepped out of his dog-cart, that Tuesday evening, before the little villa of the Avenue Maillot. At his reception by Madame Lescande and her mother he took heart a little. They appeared to him what they were, two honest-hearted women, surrounded by luxury and elegance.
She is neat as a bird. I also try to be; but, alas! when I practise the piano, my cuffs rub. After this explanation, my good Theodore, I hope you will love me as before. Lescande wept over this note. Luckily he had his prospects as an architect; and Juliette had promised to wait for him ten years, by which time he would either be dead, or living deliciously in a humble house with his cousin.
Once master of the holy truth, you may be sure, dear old Lescande, I shall serve it unto death with my tongue, with my pen, and with my sword!" Such sentiments as these, pronounced with sincere emotion and accompanied by a warm clasp of the hand, drew tears from the old Lescande, otherwise called Wolfhead.
Since she patronizes the turf and subscribes for 'The Sport', she says to me, 'Your friend's horse has won again'; and in our family circle we rejoice over your triumphs." A flush tinged the cheek of Camors as he answered, quietly, "You are really too good." They walked a moment in silence over the gravel path bordered by grass, before Lescande spoke again.
Madame Lescande was embroidering on the balcony, by chance, and returned his salute over her tapestry. He remarked, too, that she saluted very gracefully, by a slight inclination of the head, followed by a slight movement of her symmetrical, sloping shoulders.
The whole evening he scattered around the mother the social epigrams intended to dazzle the daughter; Lescande meanwhile sitting with his mouth open, delighted with the success of his old schoolfellow. Next afternoon, Camors, returning from his ride in the Bois, by chance passed the Avenue Maillot.
Further, when they walked past the judge's stand, Madame Mursois, to whom he gave his arm, had the delight of being escorted in public by a cavalier in an orange jacket and topboots. Lescande and his wife followed in the wake of the radiant mother-in-law, partaking of her ecstasy. These agreeable relations continued for several weeks, without seeming to change their character.
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