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Updated: June 11, 2025
"I should like very much to hear the poetry that has cost Nais her reputation," said Zephirine; "but after receiving Amelie's request in such a way, it is not very likely that she will give us a specimen." "She ought to have them recited in justice to herself," said Francis. "The little fellow's genius is his sole justification."
Zephirine turned to speak to the Marquise de Pimentel "Do you not see a strong likeness between M. Chardon and M. de Cante-Croix, madame?" she asked in a low but quite audible voice. "The likeness is ideal," smiled Mme. de Pimentel. "Glory has a power of attraction to which we can confess," said Mme. de Bargeton, addressing the Marquise.
"Wake up, Zephirine wake up, old lady, and listen to this." Zephirine, smitten affectionately on the ham, answered only with a short squeal like a bagpipe, and buried her snout deeper in the grass. "I like that," the old man went on. "To think of travelling down a river three days' journey, and putting up each night at the same auberge! Vieux drole d'Herodote!
The gold pieces rang as they fell, one by one, into her lap. The old Pen-Hoel gazed at this performance in stupefied amazement. "But they'll see you!" she whispered in her friend's ear. "Thirty-seven," answered Zephirine, continuing to count. "Every one will know how much you have." "Forty-two." "Double louis! all new! How did you get them, you who can't see clearly?" "I felt them.
Petit-Claud learned great news on the way to the house; Cointet told him that Zephirine had asked leave to present her dear Francoise's betrothed to the Countess, and that the Countess had granted the favor. Petit-Claud had seen at once that Lucien's return put Louise de Negrepelisse in a false position; and now, in a moment, he flattered himself that he saw a way to take advantage of it.
"Did you tell him that our dear Charlotte was to arrive to-day?" said Zephirine, turning to her sister-in-law. "No," replied the baroness. "I thought perhaps he was going to meet her," said Mademoiselle du Guenic, slyly. "If Charlotte is to stay three months with her aunt, he will have plenty of opportunities to see her," said his mother.
The Baron du Guenic had started from Guerande the moment that La Vendee and Brittany took arms; he fought through the war with Charette, with Cathelineau, La Rochejaquelein, d'Elbee, Bonchamps, and the Prince de Loudon. Before starting he had, with a prudence unique in revolutionary annals, sold his whole property of every kind to his elder and only sister, Mademoiselle Zephirine du Guenic.
It is, in matters of the heart, a repetition of the fable of the woodman calling upon Death, we soon ask Certainty to leave us blind. One morning, about two weeks after the first crisis, Sabine received this terrible letter: Guerande. To Madame la Baronne du Guenic: My dear Daughter, Your aunt Zephirine and I are lost in conjectures about the dressing-table of which you tell us in your letter.
"Yesterday the trouble was, I believe, in your legs," said the rector. "It moves about," replied the chevalier. "Legs to ribs?" asked Mademoiselle Zephirine. "Without stopping on the way?" said Mademoiselle de Pen-Hoel, smiling.
Women and men were alike impatient to know the truth; and the women who put their hands before their faces and shrieked the loudest were none other than Mesdames Amelie, Zephirine, Fifine, and Lolotte, all with more or less heavy indictments of illicit love laid to their charge. There were variations in every key upon the painful theme.
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