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Two Poets-Part23_Honore de Balzac(1799-1850)_Translated Works(翻译文学)-第2页

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happened to his son-in-law, he should avenge him. A cavalry officer



lent the pistols. M. de Negrepelisse tried them over and over again.

M. du Chatelet tried to prevent them from practising with the pistols,



but they referred the question to the officer; and he said that,

unless they meant to behave like children, they ought to have pistols



in working order. The seconds put them at twenty-five paces. M. de

Bargeton looked as if he had just come out for a walk. He was the



first to fire; the ball lodged in M. de Chandour's neck, and he

dropped before he could return the shot. The house-surgeon at the



hospital has just said that M. de Chandour will have a wry neck for

the rest of his days. I came to tell you how it ended, lest you should



go to Mme. de Bargeton's or show yourself in Angouleme, for some of M.

de Chandour's friends might call you out."



As she spoke, the apprentice brought in Gentil, M. de Bargeton's

footman. The man had come with a note for Lucien; it was from Louise.



"You have doubtless heard the news," she wrote, "of the duel between

Chandour and my husband. We shall not be at home to any one to-day. Be



careful; do not show yourself. I ask this in the name of the affection

you bear me. Do you not think that it would be best to spend this



melancholy day in listening to your Beatrice, whose whole life has

been changed by this event, who has a thousand things to say to you?"



"Luckily, my marriage is fixed for the day after to-morrow," said

David, "and you will have an excuse for not going to see Mme. de



Bargeton quite so often."

"Dear David," returned Lucien, "she asks me to go to her to-day; and I



ought to do as she wishes, I think; she knows better than we do how I

should act in the present state of things."



"Then is everything ready here?" asked Mme. Chardon.

"Come and see," cried David, delighted to exhibit the transformation



of the first floor. Everything there was new and fresh; everything was

pervaded by the sweet influences of early married days, still crowned



by the wreath of orange blossoms and the bridal veil; days when the

springtide of love finds its reflection in material things, and



everything is white and spotless and has not lost its bloom.

"Eve's home will be fit for a princess," said the mother, "but you



have spent too much, you have been reckless."

David smiled by way of answer. But Mme. Chardon had touched the sore



spot in a hidden wound which caused the poor lover cruel pangs. The

cost of carrying out his ideas had far exceeded his estimates; he



could not afford to build above the shed. His mother-in-law must wait

awhile for the home he had meant to make for her. There is nothing



more keenlypainful to a generous nature than a failure to keep such

promises as these; it is like mortification to the little vanities of



affection, as they may be styled. David sedulously hid his

embarrassment to spare Lucien; he was afraid that Lucien might be



overwhelmed by the sacrifices made for his sake.

"Eve and her girl friends have been working very hard, too," said Mme.



Chardon. "The wedding clothes and the house linen are all ready. The

girls are so fond of her, that, without letting her know about it,



they have covered the mattresses with white twill and a rose-colored

piping at the edges. So pretty! It makes one wish one were going to be



married."

Mother and daughter had spent all their little savings to furnish



David's home with the things of which a young bachelor never thinks.

They knew that he was furnishing with great splendor, for something



had been said about ordering a dinner-service from Limoges, and the

two women had striven to make Eve's contributions to the housekeeping



worthy of David's. This little emulation in love and generosity could

but bring the husband and wife into difficulties at the very outset of



their married life, with every sign of homely comfort about them,

comfort that might be regarded as positiveluxury in a place so behind



the times as the Angouleme of those days.

As soon as Lucien saw his mother and David enter the bedroom with the



blue-and-white draperies and neat furniture that he knew, he slipped

away to Mme. de Bargeton. He found Nais at table with her husband; M.



de Bargeton's early morning walk had sharpened his appetite, and he

was breakfasting quite unconcernedly after all that had passed. Lucien



saw the dignified face of M. de Negrepelisse, the old provincial

noble, a relic of the old French noblesse, sitting beside Nais.



When Gentil announced M. de Rubempre, the white-headed old man gave

him a keen, curious glance; the father was anxious to form his own






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