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Domestic Peace-Part1_Honore de Balzac(1799-1850)_Translated Works(翻译文学)-第2页

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and the swarm of dancing men that buzz under the chandelier? And was



it not only by the help of your eyeglass that you were able to

discover her at all in the corner by that pillar, where she seems



buried in the gloom, in spite of the candles blazing above her head?

Between her and us there is such a sparkle of diamonds and glances, so



many floating plumes, such a flutter of lace, of flowers and curls,

that it would be a real miracle if any dancer could detect her among



those stars. Why, Martial, how is it that you have not understood her

to be the wife of some sous-prefet from Lippe or Dyle, who has come to



try to get her husband promoted?"

"Oh, he will be!" exclaimed the Master of Appeals quickly.



"I doubt it," replied the Colonel of Cuirassiers, laughing. "She seems

as raw in intrigue as you are in diplomacy. I dare bet, Martial, that



you do not know how she got into that place."

The lawyer looked at the Colonel of Cuirassiers with an expression as



much of contempt as of curiosity.

"Well," proceeded Montcornet, "she arrived, I have no doubt,



punctually at nine, the first of the company perhaps, and probably she

greatly embarrassed the Comtesse de Gondreville, who cannot put two



ideas together. Repulsed by the mistress of the house, routed from

chair to chair by each newcomer, and driven into the darkness of this



little corner, she allowed herself to be walled in, the victim of the

jealousy of the other ladies, who would gladly have buried that



dangerous beauty. She had, of course, no friend to encourage her to

maintain the place she first held in the front rank; then each of



those treacherous fair ones would have enjoined on the men of her

circle on no account to take out our poor friend, under pain of the



severest punishment. That, my dear fellow, is the way in which those

sweet faces, in appearance so tender and so artless, would have formed



a coalition against the stranger, and that without a word beyond the

question, 'Tell me, dear, do you know that little woman in blue?'--



Look here, Martial, if you care to run the gauntlet of more flattering

glances and inviting questions than you will ever again meet in the



whole of your life, just try to get through the triplerampart which

defends that Queen of Dyle, or Lippe, or Charente. You will see



whether the dullest woman of them all will not be equal to inventing

some wile that would hinder the most determined man from bringing the



plaintive stranger to the light. Does it not strike you that she looks

like an elegy?"



"Do you think so, Montcornet? Then she must be a married woman?"

"Why not a widow?"



"She would be less passive," said the lawyer, laughing.

"She is perhaps the widow of a man who is gambling," replied the



handsome Colonel.

"To be sure; since the peace there are so many widows of that class!"



said Martial. "But my dear Montcornet, we are a couple of simpletons.

That face is still too ingenuous, there is too much youth and



freshness on the brow and temples for her to be married. What splendid

flesh-tints! Nothing has sunk in the modeling of the nose. Lips, chin,



everything in her face is as fresh as a white rosebud, though the

expression is veiled, as it were, by the clouds of sadness. Who can it



be that makes that young creature weep?"

"Women cry for so little," said the Colonel.



"I do not know," replied Martial; "but she does not cry because she is

left there without a partner; her grief is not of to-day. It is



evident that she has beautified herself for this evening with

intention. I would wager that she is in love already."



"Bah! She is perhaps the daughter of some German princeling; no one

talks to her," said Montcornet.



"Dear! how unhappy a poor child may be!" Martial went on. "Can there

be anything more graceful and refined than our little stranger? Well,



not one of those furies who stand round her, and who believe that they

can feel, will say a word to her. If she would but speak, we should



see if she has fine teeth.

"Bless me, you boil over like milk at the least increase of






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