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She pouted at this, but only as a loving woman sulks to get something for it. Wenceslas, tired out with such a morning's work, went off to his studio to make a clay sketch of the Samson and Delilah, for which he had the drawings in his pocket.
She really adored Valerie; she had taken her to be her child, her friend, her love; she found her docile, as Creoles are, yielding from voluptuous indolence; she chattered with her morning after morning with more pleasure than with Wenceslas; they could laugh together over the mischief they plotted, and over the folly of men, and count up the swelling interest on their respective savings.
"I do not think Wenceslas guilty; but I think him weak, and I cannot promise that he will not yield to her refinements of temptation. My mind is made up. The woman is fatal to you; she will bring you all to utter ruin. I will not even seem to be concerned in the destruction of my own family, after living there for three years solely to hinder it.
"I do not think Wenceslas guilty; but I think him weak, and I cannot promise that he will not yield to her refinements of temptation. My mind is made up. The woman is fatal to you; she will bring you all to utter ruin. I will not even seem to be concerned in the destruction of my own family, after living there for three years solely to hinder it.
Thanks to these contributions, even an exacting Parisian would have been pleased with the rooms the young couple had taken in the Rue Saint-Dominique, near the Invalides. Everything seemed in harmony with their love, pure, honest, and sincere. At last the great day dawned for it was to be a great day not only for Wenceslas and Hortense, but for old Hulot too.
At this instant the door opened, the women both looked round, and saw Wenceslas Steinbock, who had been admitted by the cook in the maid's absence. "Hortense!" cried the artist, with one spring to the group of women. And he kissed his betrothed before her mother's eyes, on the forehead, and so reverently, that the Baroness could not be angry. It was a better restorative than any smelling salts.
"He may make a martyr of her, or a happy woman," thought she to herself, as every mother thinks when she sees her daughter married. "It seems to me," she said aloud, "that I am miserable enough to hope to see my children happy." "Be quite easy, dear mamma," said Wenceslas, only too glad to see this critical moment end happily. "In two months I shall have repaid that dreadful woman.
"Well, then, child, Wenceslas had better come with me to see the lender, who will oblige him at my request. It is Madame Marneffe. If you flatter her a little for she is as vain as a parvenue she will get you out of the scrape in the most obliging way. Come yourself and see her, my dear Hortense."
Wenceslas, finding his trick successful, expatiated on the Duc d'Herouville. "I will fit you out in a black suit, and get you some new linen," said Lisbeth, "for you must appear presentably before your patrons; and then you must have a larger and better apartment than your horrible garret, and furnish it property.
"P. S. I told the Prince you were away, and would not return till to-morrow, so he said, 'Very good to-morrow." Count Wenceslas went to bed in sheets of purple, without a rose-leaf to wrinkle them, that Favor can make for us Favor, the halting divinity who moves more slowly for men of genius than either Justice or Fortune, because Jove has not chosen to bandage her eyes.
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