Volume 14 / Part 2 — IX THE GOLDFISH

On the following day Thélénie said to her husband:

“Monsieur, you will be dressed at two o’clock, when we will have the horses put in the calèche and go to pay some visits.”

“Visits! to whom, pray, madame? we don’t know anyone here.”

“That is the very reason why we must make acquaintances. We do not propose to live like bears, I presume?”

“My dear love, I never pretended to pass for a bear; in the first place, I haven’t that animal’s hairy coat.—We will go then; and where shall we go?”

“Don’t worry about that; I have obtained through Mélie a list of the principal people of the village.”

“Does your maid know them?”

“You don’t understand, monsieur, that servants go to the fruit-shops and the butchers, and in ten minutes learn all they want to know.”

“That is true; I am a donkey.—Shall I dress in black?”

“Why not?”

“White cravat?”

“To be sure; don’t you know that it is the dress which commands consideration, before all else?”

“I shall be most imposing, madame.”

“Do your utmost, monsieur.”

At two o’clock, Thélénie was arrayed in a lovely gown, made in the best possible taste; the carriage was ready and waiting in the courtyard. Madame came down and looked about for her husband.

“Where is monsieur, pray?”

“We do not know, madame.”

“What on earth does this mean? I told him to be ready at two o’clock, and it’s after two. Probably he hasn’t finished dressing. Go and tell him to hurry. I am waiting.”

The maid went up to monsieur’s apartment. In a moment she returned and said:

“Monsieur is not in his room, madame, but he must be dressed, for I saw on the chairs the clothes he had on this morning.”

“He is dressed, and yet he is not here! Really Monsieur de Belleville is becoming insufferable; always having to be hunted for! Can it be that he is a prisoner again in—you know, the place where he was yesterday? Let someone visit all the toilet-rooms in the house; then, if monsieur is there again, we shall find him.”

The servants executed their mistress’s orders; meanwhile Thélénie stepped into the calèche, murmuring impatiently:

“Mon Dieu! what an idiot I have married! but after all, he is just what I needed.”

The servants returned, having visited all the most secret corners of the house and failed to find their master. This time it was certain that he was not in the house. They were about to look for him in the garden, when he suddenly appeared in the distance, drenched to the skin, with his hair glued to his face, and covered with mud from head to foot.

“Oh! monsieur! what a sight you are!” cried Thélénie; “where have you been, then? Don’t come near me; you are disgusting.”

“I am dripping wet, it’s true. I fell into the pond, my dear love. You know, we have a fine pond on our place.”

“Yes, monsieur, I do know it; but I should say that it was visible to the naked eye, and that it can hardly be mistaken for a lawn in broad daylight.”

“And so, madame, I saw perfectly well that it was a pond.—I was dressed before the time, for I did not want to keep you waiting; and, seeing that I had a few minutes to spare, I walked about our magnificent gardens. I spied the pond—I didn’t see it yesterday; I went close to it and looked in. What did I see? red, cherry-colored, orange fishes! It was a fascinating sight; I was dazzled. I saw one that gleamed so that its scales seemed to be gold! Faith, in my curiosity to see him nearer, I leaned over to catch him; he slipped through my fingers; I leaned over farther, and pouf! I fell in among the fish and came near drowning; there’s a lot of water there!”

“Oh, no! monsieur—only two feet and a half.”

“Three feet, madame; and then, the fish blinded me; I couldn’t find the bank. However, I succeeded in getting out.”

“And in a pretty state! You don’t expect to come with me in that condition, I take it?”

“No, madame; I am going to change.”

“Make haste. What an idea, to try to catch one of those fish! Really, monsieur, you are worse than a child!”

“Ah! I have no luck in this place.”

“Go, quickly, and change your clothes.”

Chamoureau went up to his room. He was obliged to make an entire change. However, as he had but one black coat and his wife had told him to dress in black, he had no choice but to put that one on again; but he wiped it so carefully and rubbed it with so many towels, that it was soon in condition to be worn, and indeed was as glossy and shining as a new one.

Chamoureau entered the calèche, but, although he was well cleansed, madame required him to sit opposite her, not by her side. She found that he retained from his bath an odor of goldfish which made her sick.

They drove first to Madame Droguet’s; she was at the head of the list which Thélénie consulted.

When the calèche stopped at Madame Droguet’s door, it caused a general turmoil in the house. Everybody ran upstairs or downstairs, crying:

“A carriage for us!”

“The new owners of Goldfish Villa!”

“Monsieur and Madame de Belleville coming here!”

“Joséphine, my cap with bunches of jasmine.”

“Yes, madame.”

“Monsieur Droguet, run and put on a black coat.”

“Yes, wife. Must I change my waistcoat too?”

“Yes, if you have time. Mon Dieu! here they are! and I haven’t my jasmine cap! Joséphine, let them wait a moment in the salon. Say that I—that I——”

“I will say that madame is washing her hands.”

“No, indeed! that would be nice! You will say that I am taking a foot bath; that is much more comme il faut.”

Meanwhile Monsieur and Madame de Belleville had entered the house and given their names to the concierge, who performed the duties of footman as well.

Joséphine came to say that her mistress was taking a foot bath, and requested them to have the kindness to wait a moment in the salon into which she ushered them.

Thélénie proceeded at once to take a survey of the room, while Chamoureau gazed at the two full-length portraits, life size, representing the master and the mistress of the house.

“It’s very fine here,” he murmured; “handsome furniture, rich paper, and a superb clock!”

“Hush, monsieur! all this is in execrable taste, and the portraits alone are enough to tell us what sort of people they represent—rich grocers, I fancy. Never mind; let us be very agreeable; we must dazzle all these people, and it ought not to be very difficult.”

Madame Droguet soon arrived, with her cap a little too much over one ear; but that gave the ex-vivandière a martial look which was not unbecoming to her.

Monsieur Droguet came at his wife’s heels, in a very short coat and a too long waistcoat, which lacked several buttons; but he had not had time to notice it.

They bestowed a most affable welcome on their new neighbors; it was easy to see that Thélénie’s genuine refinement produced a deep impression on Madame Droguet, who confounded herself in compliments and courtesies, at the same time saying to her husband in an undertone:

“Button yourself up!”

And he, thinking that his wife referred to his waistcoat, murmured with a contrite expression:

“The buttons are missing.”

Thélénie informed Madame Droguet that she proposed to give dinners, receptions, festivities of all sorts, and that she should hope for her company as well as her husband’s.

The corpulent dame was beside herself with joy, and Monsieur Droguet wrenched off one of the two remaining buttons of his waistcoat.

They then proceeded to discuss the question of the other persons to be invited. Madame Droguet named her own particular friends, and Thélénie asked with an indifferent air:

“Haven’t you a certain Madame Dalmont here—a so-called widow, who has a young woman living with her?”

“Yes, we have,” replied Madame Droguet with a sneering smile. “But, between us, dear Madame de Belleville, I don’t think that they are people worthy to be received at your house. In the first place, they are not polite. When they came here to live they did not call upon us as is customary.”

“That indicates at once a lack of savoir-vivre.”

“Does it not, madame? Then they have struck up a friendship with a very low-lived person, a sort of wolf, whom nobody in the neighborhood cared to know, and who seems to be on the best of terms with them already. He walks home with them at night. And then——”

“What! isn’t that all?”

“A young man from Paris, named Edmond Didier, hired a house here in Chelles, soon after those strangers came here. And since he’s been here, he passes almost all his time at their house, until it’s got to be a perfect scandal. I am not evil-minded certainly, but there are things one can’t help seeing.—Let your waistcoat alone, Droguet, and button yourself up!”

“What you tell me on the subject of these women, madame, does not surprise me in the least,” cried Thélénie, delighted by what she had heard. “We have known Monsieur Edmond Didier a long while; my husband was once very intimate with him——”

At this point, Chamoureau, who had not been able as yet to put in a word and had confined himself to watching Monsieur Droguet as he felt for the missing buttons or wrenched off the others,—Chamoureau thought that he saw an opportunity to speak.

“Yes,” he said, “I used to know Monsieur Edmond Didier—that is to say, through Freluchon, who used—at the time when——”

Thélénie made haste to cut him short:

“In fact, madame, we heard in Paris that Monsieur Edmond had formed a liaison unworthy of him, which distressed his family; for what you have told me of this Dalmont woman corresponds perfectly with what people think of her in Paris, where she is looked upon as a scheming adventuress; and doubtless her young friend is little better; birds of a feather flock together.”

Madame de Belleville, who was doing her best to play the grande dame, forgot that it was not good form to quote proverbs; but it was as right as possible in the eyes of Madame Droguet, who was radiant with delight and exclaimed:

“You hear, Droguet; they’re adventuresses, nobodies! I was sure of it, myself; I am never mistaken in my conjectures; didn’t I say so, only last night, to Doctor Antoine, who undertook to stand up for them!—Just be sick, Droguet, be sick, my dear man; I tell you beforehand that I won’t send for the doctor.”

Monsieur Droguet, who had finally found one button of his waistcoat firmly attached, had just buttoned it with an air of proud satisfaction, and seemed to pay little heed to what his wife said.

At that moment Chamoureau was seized with a paroxysm of sneezing, which ended in a shower and spattered his neighbors; he hurriedly drew his handkerchief, to make his nose presentable; but in his haste to unfold it, he threw into Madame Droguet’s face an object which slid down that lady’s cheek into her bosom, where it disappeared. She uttered a shriek, her husband jumped backward, and Thélénie glared sternly at Chamoureau, as she demanded:

“What was that you threw at madame?”

“I, threw something at madame! why I had nothing to throw.”

Meanwhile Madame Droguet had thrown herself back in her chair, shrieking frantically:

“Oh! take it away! oh! the horrid beast! what kind of a creature is it? It’s still there; it’s slipped down inside my corsets! Take it away! take it away! or I’ll scratch someone!”

Chamoureau stared at her with a terrified expression, but he did not move. Monsieur Droguet let his wife shriek, while he tried obstinately to put another button through its buttonhole.

“Well! does neither of you propose to assist madame?” Thélénie asked them.

“It seems to me,” muttered Chamoureau, “that it isn’t for me to go fumbling in that lady’s corsets; that’s her husband’s business.”

Madame Droguet, seeing that no one came to her assistance, concluded to put her right hand inside her dress. She brought to light a small goldfish which its enforced sojourn in a warm pocket had deprived of a great part of its activity.

“A goldfish!” murmured Madame Droguet in amazement. “What! monsieur,” she added, somewhat reassured when she found that it was not a frog which she had been warming in her bosom, “do you carry goldfish in your handkerchief?”

Chamoureau, as the explanation of the incident began to dawn upon him, turned as red as his fish, and did not know what to say. But Thélénie at once spoke up and told the story of the accident which had happened to her husband, and which explained the presence of an inhabitant of the pond in his coat pocket, unsuspected by him. Thereupon they ended by laughing at the episode, and to obtain full forgiveness for the fish, Thélénie invited the Droguet family to dinner on the Thursday following.

The invitation was accepted with profuse thanks and compliments, and Monsieur and Madame de Belleville took their leave; the Droguets escorted them to their calèche, and they parted well pleased with one another.

“Please examine your pockets, monsieur,” said Thélénie, “and make sure that there are no more goldfish in them, for I have no desire that you should throw any more of them in the faces of the people we are going to call upon.”

“I have no more in my pockets, madame.”

“I am not surprised that you have such a horrible smell of fish about you; why didn’t you change your coat?”

“Because I haven’t any other black one that fits me, madame.”

“Then you must have another one made, monsieur; I believe that you are rich enough to have more than one coat.”

On leaving Madame Droguet’s, Thélénie drove to the Remplumés, then to the Jarnouillards, then to the mayor’s, and to all the leading people of the place, who were extremely flattered by the courtesies and the invitations they received from Monsieur and Madame de Belleville. Thélénie overlooked neither Monsieur Luminot nor the doctor; she left at their houses invitations to dine with her on the Thursday following.

Then they returned to Goldfish Villa, and Chamoureau said to himself:

“I propose to stay quietly in my room, for fear some other unpleasant accident may happen to me.”

Thélénie, for her part, was well content with her day. She had begun a campaign of calumny against the persons whom Edmond visited, and she was persuaded that her spiteful words would soon be repeated and exaggerated, for calumny is the most agreeable pastime of fools. They would be of so little account in the world, if they did not speak ill of their neighbors.