Country life -- Fiction; France -- Fiction; Love stories
"Of me? why of me more than of you? God is my witness that I am not
thinking of myself when I work and pray for Joseph. My future
troubles me very little, Brulette; I don't understand why people
should be thinking of themselves in the friendship they give to
others."
"Then," said Brulette, "you are a sort of saint, dear Thérence, and I
feel I am not worthy of you; for I do think about myself, and a great
deal, too, when I dream of love and happiness. Perhaps you do not
love Joseph as I fancied you did; but, however that may be, I ask you
to tell me how I had better behave to him. I am not at all sure that
if I take all hope away from him the blow would kill him; otherwise
you would not see me so easy. But he is ill, that's very true; and I
owe him great consideration. Here is where my friendship for him has
been loyal and sincere; and I have not been as coquettish as you
think for. For if it is true that I have, as you say, fifty lovers
in my own village, what advantage or amusement would it be to me to
follow the humblest of them all into these woods? I think, on the
contrary, that I deserve your good-will for having, as it seemed
right to do so, sacrificed without regret my lively friends to bring
comfort to a poor fellow who asked for my remembrance."
Thérence, understanding at last that she was wrong, threw herself
into Brulette's arms, without making any excuses, but showing plainly
by tears and kisses that she was heartily sorry.
They were sitting thus together when Huriel, followed by his mules,
preceded by his dogs, and mounted on his little horse, appeared at
the end of the path where we were. He came to bid us good-bye; but
nothing in his air or manner showed the grief of a man who seeks by
flight to cure a hopeless love. He seemed, on the contrary, cheerful
and content; and Brulette thought that Thérence had put him on the
list of her admirers only to give one reason more, good or bad, for
her vexation. She even tried to make him tell the real reason for
his departure; and when he pretended that it was pressing business,
which Thérence denied, urging him to stay, Brulette, rather piqued at
his coolness, reproached him with getting tired of his Berrichon
guests. He let himself be teased without making any change in his
plans; and this finally affronted Brulette, and led her to say,--
"As I may never see you again, Maître Huriel, don't you think you had
better return me the little token which you wear in your ear though
it does not belong to you?"
"Yes, but it does," he answered. "It belongs to me as much as my ear
belongs to my head, for my sister gave it to me."
"Your sister could not have given you what is either Joseph's or
mine."
"My sister made her first communion just as you did, Brulette; and
when I returned your jewel to José she gave me hers. Ask her if that
isn't true."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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