Whatever she has done, I sha'n't eat her. Is she afraid of me? Even if she has plastered Charles with gold from head to foot, he is on the high seas, and nobody can get at him, hein!""But, monsieur--" Excited by the nervous crisis through which she had passed, and by the fate of her daughter, which brought forth all her tenderness and all her powers of mind, Madame Grandet suddenly observed a frightful movement of her husband's wen, and, in the very act of replying, she changed her speech without changing the tones of her voice,--"But, monsieur, I have not more influence over her than you have. She has said nothing to me; she takes after you.""Tut, tut! Your tongue is hung in the middle this morning. Ta, ta, ta, ta! You are setting me at defiance, I do believe. I daresay you are in league with her."He looked fixedly at his wife.
"Monsieur Grandet, if you wish to kill me, you have only to go on like this. I tell you, monsieur,--and if it were to cost me my life, Iwould say it,--you do wrong by your daughter; she is more in the right than you are. That money belonged to her; she is incapable of making any but a good use of it, and God alone has the right to know our good deeds. Monsieur, I implore you, take Eugenie back into favor; forgive her. If you will do this you will lessen the injury your anger has done me; perhaps you will save my life. My daughter! oh, monsieur, give me back my daughter!""I shall decamp," he said; "the house is not habitable. A mother and daughter talking and arguing like that! Broooouh! Pouah! A fine New Year's present you've made me, Eugenie," he called out. "Yes, yes, cry away! What you've done will bring you remorse, do you hear? What's the good of taking the sacrament six times every three months, if you give away your father's gold secretly to an idle fellow who'll eat your heart out when you've nothing else to give him? You'll find out some day what your Charles is worth, with his morocco boots and supercilious airs. He has got neither heart nor soul if he dared to carry off a young girl's treasure without the consent of her parents."When the street-door was shut, Eugenie came out of her room and went to her mother.
"What courage you have had for your daughter's sake!" she said.
"Ah! my child, see where forbidden things may lead us. You forced me to tell a lie.""I will ask God to punish only me."
"Is it true," cried Nanon, rushing in alarmed, "that mademoiselle is to be kept on bread and water for the rest of her life?""What does that signify, Nanon?" said Eugenie tranquilly.
"Goodness! do you suppose I'll eat /frippe/ when the daughter of the house is eating dry bread? No, no!""Don't say a word about all this, Nanon," said Eugenie.
"I'll be as mute as a fish; but you'll see!"
*****
Grandet dined alone for the first time in twenty-four years.
"So you're a widower, monsieur," said Nanon; "it must be disagreeable to be a widower with two women in the house.""I did not speak to you. Hold your jaw, or I'll turn you off! What is that I hear boiling in your saucepan on the stove?""It is grease I'm trying out."
"There will be some company to-night. Light the fire."The Cruchots, Madame des Grassins, and her son arrived at the usual hour of eight, and were surprised to see neither Madame Grandet nor her daughter.
"My wife is not very well, and Eugenie is with her," said the old wine-grower, whose face betrayed no emotion.
At the end of an hour spent in idle conversation, Madame des Grassins, who had gone up to see Madame Grandet, came down, and every one inquired,--"How is Madame Grandet?"
"Not at all well," she answered; "her condition seems to me really alarming. At her age you ought to take every precaution, Papa Grandet.""We'll see about it," said the old man in an absent way.
They all wished him good-night. When the Cruchots got into the street Madame des Grassins said to them,--"There is something going on at the Grandets. The mother is very ill without her knowing it. The girl's eyes are red, as if she had been crying all day. Can they be trying to marry her against her will?"*****
When Grandet had gone to bed Nanon came softly to Eugenie's room in her stockinged feet and showed her a pate baked in a saucepan.
"See, mademoiselle," said the good soul, "Cornoiller gave me a hare.
You eat so little that this pate will last you full a week; in such frosty weather it won't spoil. You sha'n't live on dry bread, I'm determined; it isn't wholesome.""Poor Nanon!" said Eugenie, pressing her hand.
"I've made it downright good and dainty, and /he/ never found it out.
I bought the lard and the spices out of my six francs: I'm the mistress of my own money"; and she disappeared rapidly, fancying she heard Grandet.
