France -- History -- Wars of the Vendée, 1793-1832 -- Fiction; Marriage -- Fiction
In a word, this military pedant was impracticable, and Rose gave him up
in disgust, and began to call up a sulky look when the other two sang
his praises. For the old lady pronounced him charming, and Josephine
said he was a man of crystal; never said a word he did not mean, and
she wished she was like him. But the baroness thought this was going a
little too far.
“No, thank you,” said she hastily; “he is a man, a thorough man. He
would make an intolerable woman. A fine life if one had a parcel of
women about, all blurting out their real minds every moment, and never
smoothing matters.”
“Mamma, what a horrid picture!” chuckled Rose.
She then proposed that at his next visit they should all three make an
earnest appeal to him to let them know what Edouard had decided.
But Josephine begged to be excused, feared it would be hardly delicate;
and said languidly that for her part she felt they were in good hands,
and prescribed patience. The baroness acquiesced, and poor Rose and her
curiosity were baffled on every side.
At last, one fine day, her torments were relieved without any further
exertion on her part. Jacintha bounced into the drawing-room with a
notice that the commandant wanted to speak to Josephine a minute out in
the Pleasaunce.
“How droll he is,” said Rose; “fancy sending in for a young lady like
that. Don’t go, Josephine; how, he would stare.”
“My dear, I no more dare disobey him than if I was one of his soldiers.”
And she laid down her work, and rose quietly to do what she was bid.
“Well,” said Rose, superciliously, “go to your commanding officer. And,
O Josephine, if you are worth anything at all, do get out of him what
that Edouard has settled.”
Josephine kissed her, and promised to try. After the first salutation,
there was a certain hesitation about Raynal which Josephine had never
seen a trace of in him before; so, to put him at his ease, and at the
same time keep her promise to Rose, she asked timidly if their mutual
friend had been able to suggest anything.
“What! don’t you know that I have been acting all along upon his
instructions?” answered Raynal.
“No, indeed! and you have not told us what he advised.”
“Told you? why, of course not; they were secret instructions. I
have obeyed one set, and now I come to the other; and there is the
difficulty, being a kind of warfare I know nothing about.”
“It must be savage warfare, then,” suggested the lady politely.
“Not a bit of it. Now, who would have thought I was such a coward?”
Josephine was mystified; however, she made a shrewd guess. “Do you
fear a repulse from any one of us? Then, I suppose, you meditate some
extravagant act of generosity.”
“Not I.”
“Of delicacy, then.”
“Just the reverse. Confound the young dog! why is he not here to help
me?”
“But, after all,” suggested Josephine, “you have only to carry out his
instructions.”
“That is true! that is true! but when a fellow is a coward, a poltroon,
and all that sort of thing.”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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