VIII
When, on the morning after this dinner, which was to form an era inher life, Mme. Favoral woke up, her husband was already up, pencilin hand, and busy figuring.
The charm had vanished with the fumes of the champagne; and theclouds of the worst days were gathering upon his brow.
Noticing that his wife was looking at him,
"It's expensive work," he said in a bluff tone, "to set a businessgoing; and it wouldn't do to commence over again every day."
To hear him speak, one would have thought that Mme. Favoral alone,by dint of hard begging, had persuaded him into that expense whichhe now seemed to regret so much. She quietly called his attentionto the fact, reminding him that, far from urging, she had endeavoredto hold him back; repeating that she augured ill of that businessover which he was so enthusiastic, and that, if he would believe her,he would not venture.
"Do you even know what the project is?" he interrupted rudely.
"You have not told me."
"Very well, then: leave me in peace with your presentiments. Youdislike my friends; and I saw very well how you treated Mme. deThaller. But I am the master; and what I have decided shall be.Besides, I have signed. Once for all, I forbid you ever speakingto me again on that subject."
Whereupon, having dressed himself with much care, he started off,saying that he was expected at breakfast by Saint Pavin, thefinancial editor, and by M. Jottras, of the house of Jottras& Brother.
A shrewd woman would not have given it up so easy, and, in the end,would probably have mastered the despot, whose intellect was farfrom brilliant. But Mme. Favoral was too proud to be shrewd; andbesides, the springs of her will had been broken by the successiveoppression of an odious stepmother and a brutal master. Herabdication of all was complete. Wounded, she kept the secret ofher wound, hung her head, and said nothing.
She did not, therefore, venture a single allusion; and nearly aweek elapsed, during which the names of her late guests were notonce mentioned.
It was through a newspaper, which M. Favoral had forgotten in theparlor, that she learned that the Baron de Thaller had just foundeda new stock company, the Mutual Credit Society, with a capital ofseveral millions.
Below the advertisement, which was printed in enormous letters,came a long article, in which it was demonstrated that the newcompany was, at the same time, a patriotic undertaking and aninstitution of credit of the first class; that it supplied a greatpublic want; that it would be of inestimable benefit to industry;that its profits were assured; and that to subscribe to its stockwas simply to draw short bills upon fortune.
Already somewhat re-assured by the reading of this article, Mme.Favoral became quite so when she read the names of the board ofdirectors. Nearly all were titled, and decorated with many foreignorders; and the remainder were bankers, office-holders, and evensome ex-ministers.
"I must have been mistaken," she thought, yielding unconsciously tothe influence of printed evidence.
And no objection occurred to her, when, a few days later, herhusband told her,
"I have the situation I wanted. I am head cashier of the companyof which M. de Thaller is manager."
That was all. Of the nature of this society, of the advantageswhich it offered him, not one word.
Only by the way in which he expressed himself did Mme. Favoral judgethat he must have been well treated; and he further confirmed her inthat opinion by granting her, of his own accord, a few additionalfrancs for the daily expenses of the house.
"We must," he declared on this memorable occasion, "do honor to oursocial position, whatever it may cost."
For the first time in his life, he seemed heedful of public opinion.He recommended his wife to be careful of her dress and of that ofthe children, and re-engaged a servant. He expressed the wish ofenlarging their circle of acquaintances, and inaugurated his Saturdaydinners, to which came assiduously, M. and Mme. Desclavettes, M.Chapelain the attorney, the old man Desormeaux, and a few others.
As to himself he gradually settled down into those habits fromwhich he was nevermore to depart, and the chronometric regularityof which had secured him the nickname of Old Punctuality, of whichhe was proud.
In all other respects never did a man, to such a degree, become soutterly indifferent to his wife and children. His house was for himbut a mere hotel, where he slept, and took his evening meal. Henever thought of questioning his wife as to the use of her time, andwhat she did in his absence. Provided she did not ask him for money,and was there when he came home, he was satisfied.
Many women, at Mme. Favoral's age, might have made a strange use ofthat insulting indifference and of that absolute freedom.
If she did avail herself of it, it was solely to follow one of thoseinspirations which can only spring in a mother's heart.
The increase in the budget of the household was relatively large, butso nicely calculated, that she had not one cent more that she couldcall her own.
With the most intense sorrow, she thought that her children mighthave to endure the humiliating privations which had made her ownlife wretched. They were too young yet to suffer from the paternalparsimony; but they would grow; their desires would develop; and itwould be impossible for her to grant them the most innocentsatisfactions.
Whilst turning over and over in her mind this distressing thought,she remembered a friend of her mother's, who kept, in the Rue St.Denis, a large establishment for the sale of hosiery and woollengoods. There, perhaps, lay the solution of the problem. She calledto see the worthy woman, and, without even needing to confess thewhole truth to her, she obtained sundry pieces of work, ill paidas a matter of course, but which, by dint of close application,might be made to yield from eight to twelve francs a week.
From this time she never lost a minute, concealing her work as ifit were an evil act.
She knew her husband well enough to feel certain that he wouldbreak out, and swear that he spent money enough to enable his wifeto live without being reduced to making a work woman of herself.
But what joy, the day when she hid way down at the bottom of adrawer the first twenty-franc-piece she had earned, a beautifulgold-piece, which belonged to her without contest, and which shemight spend as she pleased, without having to render any accountto any one!
And with what pride, from week to week, she saw her little treasureswell, despite the drafts she made upon it, sometimes to buy a toyfor Maxence, sometimes to add a few ribbons or trinkets to Gilberte'stoilet!
This was the happiest time of her life, a halt in that painfuljourney through which she had been dragging herself for so manyyears. Between her two children, the hours flew light and rapidas so many seconds. If all the hopes of the young girl and of thewoman had withered before they had blossomed, the mother's joysat least should not fail her. Because, whilst the present sufficedto her modest ambition, the future had ceased to cause her anyuneasiness.
No reference had ever been made, between herself and her husband,to that famous dinner-party: he never spoke to her of the MutualCredit Society; but now and then he allowed some words or exclamationsto escape, which she carefully recorded, and which betrayed aprosperous state of affairs.
"That Thaller is a tough fellow!" he would exclaim, "and he has themost infernal luck!"
And at other times,
"Two or three more operations like the one we have just successfullywound up, and we can shut up shop!"
From all this, what could she conclude, if not that he was marchingwith rapid strides towards that fortune, the object of all hisambition?
Already in the neighborhood he had that reputation to be very rich,which is the beginning of riches itself. He was admired for keepinghis house with such rigid economy; for a man is always esteemed whohas money, and does not spend it.
"He is not the man ever to squander what he has," the neighborsrepeated.
The persons whom he received on Saturdays believed him more thancomfortably off. When M. Desclavettes and M. Chapelain hadcompl
ained to their hearts' contents, the one of the shop, theother of his office, they never failed to add,
"You laugh at us, because you are engaged in large operations, wherepeople make as much money as they like."
They seemed to hold his financial capacities in high estimation.They consulted him, and followed his advice.
M. Desormeaux was wont to say,
"Oh! he knows what he is about."
And Mme. Favoral tried to persuade herself, that, in this respectat least, her husband was a remarkable man. She attributed hissilence and his distractions to the grave cares that filled his mind.In the same manner that he had once announced to her that they hadenough to live on, she expected him, some fine morning, to tell herthat he was a millionaire.