Book collectors -- Fiction; Detective and mystery stories; France -- Fiction
“Right or wrong (in my opinion wrong) Gelis says that he does not want
any dowry; he takes your ward with nothing but her chemise. Say yes,
and the thing is settled! Make haste about it! I want to show you two
or three very curious old tokens from Lorraine which I am sure you never
saw before.”
That is literally what he said to me. I answered him that I would
consult Jeanne, and I found no small pleasure in telling him that my
ward had a dowry.
Her dowry--there it is in front of me! It is my library. Henri and
Jeanne have not even the faintest suspicion about it; and the fact is I
am commonly believed to be much richer than I am. I have the face of
an old miser. It is certainly a lying face; but its untruthfulness has
often won for me a great deal of consideration. There is nobody so much
respected in this world as a stingy rich man.
I have consulted Jeanne,--but what was the need of listening for her
answer? It is done! They are betrothed.
It would ill become my character as well as my face to watch these young
people any longer for the mere purpose of noting down their words and
gestures. Noli me tangere:--that is the maxim for all charming love
affairs. I know my duty. It is to respect all the little secrets of that
innocent soul intrusted to me. Let these children love each other
all they can! Never a word of their fervent outpouring of mutual
confidences, never a hint of their artless self-betrayals, will be set
down in this diary by the old guardian whose authority was so gentle and
so brief.
At all events, I am not going to remain with my arms folded; and if they
have their business to attend to, I have mine also. I am preparing a
catalogue of my books, with a view to having them all sold at auction.
It is a task which saddens and amuses me at the same time. I linger over
it, perhaps a good deal longer than I ought to do; turning the leaves
of all those works which have become so familiar to my thought, to my
touch, to my sight--even out of all necessity and reason. But it is
a farewell; and it has ever been in the nature of man to prolong a
farewell.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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