Chérubin pressed Monfréville’s hand affectionately; then they left the house on the outer boulevard, which even little Bruno had abandoned, for they saw no sign of anybody. They entered the cab with Jasmin, upon whom they were almost obliged to use force, because the old fellow insisted on riding behind.
When they reached home, Chérubin told Monfréville how Daréna had managed the affair, and how he had urged him above all things to preserve the most absolute secrecy about it.
“I am not surprised,” said Monfréville, “that he urged you not to mention it to me; he knew that I would not be taken in by the story of a Polish countess who was anxious to be abducted by a young man whom she had seen just once, at the theatre.”
“He said that you set yourself up now as a man of strict virtue, to make people forget your former conduct; he declared that you used to be famous for your love-affairs, your conquests, and that your principles then were much less severe than they are to-day.--Forgive me--I am only repeating what he said.”
Monfréville’s brow had grown dark; his face wore an expression of deep sorrow, and he was silent for some time. At last, fixing his eyes upon Chérubin’s, he said in a melancholy tone:
“It is true, my friend, that in my youth I did many foolish things, and I have some serious faults with which to reproach myself. But I was so cruelly punished that I was cured in good season. That does not prevent me from being indulgent to others, because I am well aware that it is a part of our nature to be subject to passions and weakness, and to be led astray by them sometimes. Some day, Chérubin, I will tell you a story of my young days, which has had an influence on my whole life. You will see that these love-affairs, which we treat so cavalierly at twenty, sometimes have very bitter results.”
“Thus far,” said Chérubin, with a sigh, “I haven’t been lucky in my love-affairs, and my amorous adventures have not afforded me much enjoyment!”
After Monsieur de Noirmont expressed in such decided terms his resolution with respect to Louise, Ernestine’s mother said not a word to indicate that she still thought of dismissing the young woman; on the contrary it seemed that, having made up her mind to submit to her husband’s desire, Madame de Noirmont had recovered from her apparent prejudice against Louise. She still treated her with a coldness which sometimes approached severity; but the tone of her voice, sharp and curt at first, often softened so far as to seem almost affectionate. One would have said that she was vanquished by the charm with which the girl’s whole personality was instinct, by her timid obedience, by the eagerness with which she waited on her mistress, so that the latter was sometimes, in spite of herself, drawn on to love her.