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A Daughter of Eve-Part3_Honore de Balzac(1799-1850)_Translated Works(翻译文学)-第2页

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evening, now, instantly," said Madame de Vandenesse, throwing herself



into Madame du Tillet's arms with a burst of tears.

"I can't go out at eleven o'clock at night," replied her sister.



"My carriage is here."

"What are you two plotting together?" said du Tillet, pushing open the



door of the boudoir.

He came in showing a torpid face lighted now by a speciously amiable



expression. The carpets had dulled his steps and the preoccupation of

the two sisters had kept them from noticing the noise of his carriage-



wheels on entering the court-yard. The countess, in whom the habits of

social life and the freedom in which her husband had left her had



developed both wit and shrewdness,--qualities repressed in her sister

by marital despotism, which simply continued that of their mother,--



saw that Eugenie's terror was on the point of betraying them, and she

evaded that danger by a frank answer.



"I thought my sister richer than she is," she replied, looking

straight at her brother-in-law. "Women are sometimes embarrassed for



money, and do not wish to tell their husbands, like Josephine with

Napoleon. I came here to ask Eugenie to do me a service."



"She can easily do that, madame. Eugenie is very rich," replied du

Tillet, with concealed sarcasm.



"Is she?" replied the countess, smiling bitterly.

"How much do you want?" asked du Tillet, who was not sorry to get his



sister-in-law into his meshes.

"Ah, monsieur! but I have told you already we do not wish to let our



husbands into this affair," said Madame de Vandenesse, cautiously,--

aware that if she took his money, she would put herself at the mercy



of the man whose portrait Eugenie had fortunately drawn for her not

ten minutes earlier. "I will come to-morrow and talk with Eugenie."



"To-morrow?" said the banker. "No; Madame du Tillet dines to-morrow

with a future peer of France, the Baron de Nucingen, who is to leave



me his place in the Chamber of Deputies."

"Then permit her to join me in my box at the Opera," said the



countess, without even glancing at her sister, so much did she fear

that Eugenie's candor would betray them.



"She has her own box, madame," said du Tillet, nettled.

"Very good; then I will go to hers," replied the countess.



"It will be the first time you have done us that honor," said du

Tillet.



The countess felt the sting of that reproach, and began to laugh.

"Well, never mind; you shall not be made to pay anything this time.



Adieu, my darling."

"She is an insolent woman," said du Tillet, picking up the flowers



that had fallen on the carpet. "You ought," he said to his wife, "to

study Madame de Vandenesse. I'd like to see you before the world as



insolent and overbearing as your sister has just been here. You have a

silly, bourgeois air which I detest."



Eugenie raised her eyes to heaven as her only answer.

"Ah ca, madame! what have you both been talking of?" said the banker,



after a pause, pointing to the flowers. "What has happened to make

your sister so anxious all of a sudden to go to your opera-box?"



The poor helot endeavored to escape questioning on the score of

sleepiness, and turned to go into her dressing-room to prepare for the



night; but du Tillet took her by the arm and brought her back under

the full light of the wax-candles which were burning in two silver-



gilt sconces between fragrant nosegays. He plunged his light eyes into

hers and said, coldly:--



"Your sister came here to borrow forty thousand francs for a man in

whom she takes an interest, who'll be locked up within three days in a



debtor's prison."

The poor woman was seized with a nervous trembling, which she



endeavored to repress.

"You alarm me," she said. "But my sister is far too well brought up,



and she loves her husband too much to be interested in any man to that

extent."



"Quite the contrary," he said, dryly. "Girls brought up as you two

were, in the constraints and practice of piety, have a thirst for



liberty; they desire happiness, and the happiness they get in marriage

is never as fine as that they dreamt of. Such girls make bad wives."



"Speak for me," said poor Eugenie, in a tone of bitter feeling, "but

respect my sister. The Comtesse de Vandenesse is happy; her husband



gives her too much freedom not to make her truly attached to him.

Besides, if your supposition were true, she would never have told me



of such a matter."

"It is true," he said, "and I forbid you to have anything to do with






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