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An Old Maid-Part15_Honore de Balzac(1799-1850)_Translated Works(翻译文学)-第2页

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tone. "Tell HIM to go to Moreau; I must be dressed! Fancy if Monsieur

de Troisville surprised me as I am now! and my uncle not here to



receive him! Oh, uncle, uncle! Come, Josette; come and dress me at

once."



"But Penelope?" said Josette, imprudently.

"Always Penelope! Penelope this, Penelope that! Is Penelope the



mistress of this house?"

"But she is all of a lather, and she hasn't had time to eat her oats."



"Then let her starve!" cried Mademoiselle Cormon; "provided I marry,"

she thought to herself.



Hearing these words, which seemed to her like homicide, Josette stood

still for a moment, speechless. Then, at a gesture from her mistress,



she ran headlong down the steps of the portico.

"The devil is in her, Jacquelin," were the first words she uttered.



Thus all things conspired on this fateful day to produce the great

scenic effect which decided the future life of Mademoiselle Cormon.



The town was already topsy-turvy in mind, as a consequence of the five

extraordinary circumstances which accompanied Mademoiselle Cormon's



return; to wit, the pouring rain; Penelope at a gallop, in a lather,

and blown; the early hour; the parcels half-packed; and the singular



air of the excited old maid. But when Mariette made an invasion of the

market, and bought all the best things; when Jacquelin went to the



principal upholsterer in Alencon, two doors from the church, in search

of a bed,--there was matter for the gravest conjectures. These



extraordinary events were discussed on all sides; they occupied the

minds of every one, even Mademoiselle Armande herself, with whom was



Monsieur de Valois. Within two days the town of Alencon had been

agitated by such startling events that certain good women were heard



to remark that the world was coming to an end. This last news,

however, resolved itself into a single question, "What is happening at



the Cormons?"

The Abbe de Sponde, adroitly questioned when he left Saint-Leonard's



to take his daily walk with the Abbe Couturier, replied with his usual

kindliness that he expected the Vicomte de Troisville, a nobleman in



the service of Russia during the Emigration, who was returning to

Alencon to settle there. From two to five o'clock a species of labial



telegraphy went on throughout the town; and all the inhabitants

learned that Mademoiselle Cormon had at last found a husband by



letter, and was about to marry the Vicomte de Troisville. Some said,

"Moreau has sold them a bed." The bed was six feet wide in that



quarter; it was four feet wide at Madame Granson's, in the rue du

Bercail; but it was reduced to a simple couch at Monsieur du



Ronceret's, where du Bousquier was dining. The lesser bourgeoisie

declared that the cost was eleven hundred francs. But generally it was



thought that, as to this, rumor was counting the chickens before they

were hatched. In other quarters it was said that Mariette had made



such a raid on the market that the price of carp had risen. At the end

of the rue Saint-Blaise, Penelope had dropped dead. This decease was



doubted in the house of the receiver-general; but at the Prefecture it

was authenticated that the poor beast had expired as she turned into



the courtyard of the hotel Cormon, with such velocity had the old maid

flown to meet her husband. The harness-maker, who lived at the corner



of the rue de Seez, was bold enough to call at the house and ask if

anything had happened to Mademoiselle Cormon's carriage, in order to



discover whether Penelope was really dead. From the end of the rue

Saint-Blaise to the end of the rue du Bercail, it was then made known



that, thanks to Jacquelin's devotion, Penelope, that silent victim of

her mistress's impetuosity, still lived, though she seemed to be



suffering.

Along the road to Brittany the Vicomte de Troisville was stated to be



a younger son without a penny, for the estates in Perche belonged to

the Marquis de Troisville, peer of France, who had children; the



marriage would be, therefore, an enormous piece of luck for a poor

emigre. The aristocracy along that road approved of the marriage;



Mademoiselle Cormon could not do better with her money. But among the

Bourgeoisie, the Vicomte de Troisville was a Russian general who had



fought against France, and was now returning with a great fortune made

at the court of Saint-Petersburg; he was a FOREIGNER; one of those



ALLIES so hated by the liberals; the Abbe de Sponde had slyly

negotiated this marriage. All the persons who had a right to call upon



Mademoiselle Cormon determined to do so that very evening.

During this transurban excitement, which made that of Suzanne almost a



forgotten affair, Mademoiselle was not less agitated; she was filled

with a variety of novel emotions. Looking about her salon, dining-



room, and boudoir, cruel apprehensions took possession of her. A

species of demon showed her with a sneer her old-fashionedluxury. The






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