Paris (France) -- Social life and customs -- Fiction; Short stories, American
But Eugène was in no mood for light conversation. For sole reply, he
paid his score, and then drank the milk slowly, looking out toward the
lower lake, across the wide stretch of fresh grass mottled with flecks
of sunlight sifted through the foliage above. At his side Vivandière
nuzzled the turf along the border of the graveled terrasse, the lithe
muscles rippling in her polished neck, and her deep eye shifting now and
again in its socket as she looked doubtfully, almost pleadingly, toward
her master. They were well known on the Allée and the bridle-path of the
avenue du Bois, these two,--the young chasseur, tall, clean-cut, and
slender, with a complexion like a girl's, and the gayety of Polichinelle
himself, in full red breeches and tunic of black and light blue; and the
chestnut mare, nervous and alert, with her racing lines, and her long,
leisurely gallop, superb in its suggestion of reserve speed and
unflagging endurance.
The fates were kind to Lieutenant Eugène Drouin. Paris, spring, youth,
an ample fortune, a commission in the _chasseurs_, good looks, a
thoroughbred Arab, and a half dozen women frankly in love with
him,--surely there was nothing lacking; and yet he knew that something
was lacking, though he could not have said what, as he sat sprawling in
his little iron chair at the Pré Catalan that morning.
He straightened himself suddenly, as she came up the driveway from the
left, and then rose with a stiff salute, for, a pace or so behind,
walked Vieux César, so-called by an irreverent garrison, leading two
horses, one limping badly. Eugène had seen him but once, at the review
of the Quatorze Juillet, but, though he was not in uniform now, the
fierce gray mustache and keen black eyes of General Tournadour were too
familiar to Parisians to pass unrecognized in a throng, much less under
circumstances such as these. When one has been Military Governor of
Paris, and held the portfolio of war, one does not achieve _incognito_
merely by donning a black civile. So Eugène saluted the general--but
with his eyes on the girl.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Elsewhere in the archive
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account