The Sin of Monsieur Antoine, Volume 2 (of 2) and Leone LeoniSand, George
General
The Sin of Monsieur Antoine, Volume 2 (of 2) and Leone Leoni
Sand, George
French fiction -- 19th century
In this way we had
something of the enjoyments of civilization amid the romantic beauties
of the desert.
When the weather was bad, as was often the case in the early spring, we
lighted a huge fire to keep the dampness from our little dwelling of
fir; we surrounded ourselves with screens which Leoni sawed out, put
together and painted with his own hand. We drank tea; and while he
smoked a long Turkish pipe I read to him. We called those our Flemish
days; while they were less exciting than the others, they were perhaps
even pleasanter. Leoni had an admirable talent for apportioning the time
so as to make life easy and agreeable. In the morning he would exert his
mind to lay out a scheme for the day and arrange our occupations for the
different hours; and when it was done he would come and submit it to me.
I always found it admirable, and we always adhered strictly to it. In
this way, ennui, which always pursues recluses and even lovers in their
tête-à-têtes, never came near us. Leoni knew all that must be avoided
and all that must be looked after to maintain mental tranquillity and
bodily well-being. He would give me directions in his adroitly
affectionate way; and, being as submissive to him as a slave to his
master, I never opposed a single one of his washes. He said, for
instance, that the exchange of thoughts between two people who love each
other is the sweetest thing imaginable, but that it may become the
greatest curse if it is abused. So he regulated the hours of our
interviews and the places where they were to be held. We worked all day;
I looked after the housekeeping; I prepared dainty dishes for him or
folded his linen with my own hands. He was extremely sensible of such
petty refinements of luxury, and found them doubly precious in our
little hermitage. He, on his side, provided for all our needs and
remedied all the inconveniences of our isolation. He had a little
knowledge of all sorts of trades; he did cabinet work, he put on locks,
he made partitions with wooden frames and painted paper panels, he
prevented chimneys from smoking, he grafted fruit trees, he diverted the
course of a stream, so that we had a supply of cool water near the
house. He was always busy about something useful, and he always did it
well. When these more important duties were performed, he painted in
water-colors, composed lovely landscapes from the sketches we had made
in our albums during our walks. Sometimes he wandered about the valley
alone, making verses, and hurried home to repeat them to me. He often
found me in the stable with my apron full of aromatic herbs of which the
goats were very fond. My two lovely pets ate from my lap. One was pure
white, without a speck: her name was _Snow_; she had a gentle,
melancholy air. The other was yellow like a chamois, with black beard
and legs. She was very young, with a wild, saucy face; we called her
_Doe_. The cow's name was _Daisy_. She was red, with black stripes
running transversely, like a tiger.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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