British -- France -- Fiction; Humorous stories; Riviera (France) -- Fiction; Spouses -- Fiction
The thin man had called himself a fool seven times in sight of his
looking-glass the night before; but Ermengarde must have applied the
name to herself seventy times seven that afternoon, when, after
tucking Dorris up in eider-downs, comforting her with eau-de-Cologne,
and leaving her to slumber and the digestion of good counsel, she
fled blindly out to the mountain-path, whither she neither knew nor
cared. But as you had--owing to the narrowness of the ridge behind
the hotel--only two possible ways to go, one up and one down, she
instinctively took the upper, as leading farther from the haunts of
mankind, which had in the mass suddenly become distasteful and
abhorrent to her.
Yes; she saw it all now--the Carnival incidents, the scene at dawn on
the brink of the ravine, the Malmaison episode, M. Isidore's
impassioned declaration during the Italian lesson watched by
Geneviève, and avenged upon herself by instant sentence of expulsion
from the little mountain paradise. Everybody had fooled her--she
herself most of all. Fool, not seven times, nor seventy, but seventy
times seven! Even the woman of mystery, for all the darkness of her
suppositions cloud of strange, unknown sins, had tried to warn her
from her folly. The bitterness of being warned, and vainly warned,
by such as she! To be patronized, protected, and advised, to owe
anything to the good-nature, the compassion even of an unfortunate
young person, whose undesirable companionship would never have been
tolerated, except for the pity she inspired and the capacity for
better things she occasionally showed. Red horror flushed her cheeks
at the thought of what inferences M. Isidore might have drawn from
her tacit acceptance of his supposed homage. The little traitor, the
coxcomb! No; never again--from a Frenchman. What heavenly comfort
in the thought that Arthur would never know the true history of those
few weeks--at least, not unless he turned quite nice and sympathetic,
when both were grey and old, and preparing to end their days. Then
it might be safe to tell him, not before.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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