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〃Moreover； mademoiselle； you have not put on your corset； a cold in
the head wouldn't oblige you to disfigure your waist and wear half a
dozen petticoats； nor hide your hands in these old gloves； and your
pretty feet in those hideous shoes； nor dress yourself like a beggar…
woman； nor〃
〃That's enough；〃 she said。 〃How am I to be certain that you will obey
me？〃
〃My master is obliged to go to Sainte…Adresse。 He does not like it；
but he is so truly good he won't deprive me of my Sunday； I will offer
to go for him。〃
〃Go； and I will trust you。〃
〃You are sure I can do nothing for you in Havre？〃
〃Nothing。 Hear me； mysterious dwarf；look；〃 she continued； pointing
to the cloudless sky； 〃can you see a single trace of that bird that
flew by just now？ No； well then； my actions are pure as the air is
pure； and leave no stain behind them。 You may reassure Dumay and the
Latournelles； and my mother。 That hand；〃 she said； holding up a pretty
delicate hand； with the points of the rosy fingers； through which the
light shone； slightly turning back； 〃will never be given； it will
never even be kissed by what people call a lover until my father has
returned。〃
〃Why don't you want me in the church to…day？〃
〃Do you venture to question me after all I have done you the honor to
say； and to ask of you？〃
Butscha bowed without another word； and departed to find his master；
in all the rapture of being taken into the service of his goddess。
Half an hour later； Monsieur and Madame Latournelle came to fetch
Modeste； who complained of a horrible toothache。
〃I really have not had the courage to dress myself；〃 she said。
〃Well then；〃 replied the worthy chaperone； 〃stay at home。〃
〃Oh； no！〃 said Modeste。 〃I would rather not。 I have bundled myself up；
and I don't think it will do me any harm to go out。〃
And Mademoiselle Mignon marched off beside Latournelle； refusing to
take his arm lest she should be questioned about the outward trembling
which betrayed her inward agitation at the thought of at last seeing
her great poet。 One look； the first；was it not about to decide her
fate？
CHAPTER XIII
A FULL…LENGTH PORTRAIT OF MONSIEUR DE LA BRIERE
Is there in the life of man a more delightful moment than that of a
first rendezvous？ Are the sensations then hidden at the bottom of our
hearts and finding their first expression ever renewed？ Can we feel
again the nameless pleasures that we felt when； like Ernest de La
Briere； we looked up our sharpest razors； our finest shirt； an
irreproachable collar； and our best clothes？ We deify the garments
associated with that all…supreme moment。 We weave within us poetic
fancies quite equal to those of the woman； and the day when either
party guesses them they take wings to themselves and fly away。 Are not
such things like the flower of wild fruits； bitter…sweet； grown in the
heart of a forest； the joy of the scant sun…rays； the joy； as Canalis
says in the 〃Maiden's Song；〃 of the plant itself whose eyes unclosing
see its own image within its breast？
Such emotions； now taking place in La Briere； tend to show that； like
other poor fellows for whom life begins in toil and care； he had never
yet been loved。 Arriving at Havre overnight； he had gone to bed at
once； like a true coquette； to obliterate all traces of fatigue； and
now； after taking his bath； he had put himself into a costume
carefully adapted to show him off to the best advantage。 This is；
perhaps； the right moment to exhibit a full…length portrait of him； if
only to justify the last letter that Modeste was still to write to
him。
Born of a good family in Toulouse； and allied by marriage to the
minister who first took him under his protection； Ernest had that air
of good…breeding which comes of an education begun in the cradle； and
the habit of managing business affairs gave him a certain sedateness
which was not pedantic；though pedantry is the natural outgrowth of
premature gravity。 He was of ordinary height； his face； which won upon
all who saw him by its delicacy and sweetness； was warm in the flesh…
tints； though without color； and relieved by a small moustache and
imperial a la Mazarin。 Without this evidence of virility he might have
resembled a young woman in disguise； so refined was the shape of his
face and the cut of his lips； so feminine the transparent ivory of a
set of teeth； regular enough to have seemed artificial。 Add to these
womanly points a habit of speech as gentle as the expression of the
face； as gentle； too； as the blue eyes with their Turkish eyelids； and
you will readily understand how it was that the minister occasionally
called his young secretary Mademoiselle de La Briere。 The full； clear
forehead； well framed by abundant black hair； was dreamy； and did not
contradict the character of the face； which was altogether melancholy。
The prominent arch of the upper eyelid； though very beautifully cut；
overshadowed the glance of the eye； and added a physical sadness；if
we may so call it；produced by the droop of the lid over the eyeball。
This inward doubt or eclipsewhich is put into language by the word
modestywas expressed in his whole person。 Perhaps we shall be able
to make his appearance better understood if we say that the logic of
design required greater length in the oval of his head； more space
between the chin； which ended abruptly； and the forehead； which was
reduced in height by the way in which the hair grew。 The face had； in
short； a rather compressed appearance。 Hard work had already drawn
furrows between the eyebrows； which were somewhat too thick and too
near together； like those of a jealous nature。 Though La Briere was
then slight； he belonged to the class of temperaments which begin；
after they are thirty； to take on an unexpected amount of flesh。
The young man would have seemed to a student of French history a very
fair representative of the royal and almost inconceivable figure of
Louis XIII。；that historical figure of melancholy modesty without
known cause； pallid beneath the crown； loving the dangers of war and
the fatigues of hunting； but hating work； timid with his mistress to
the extent of keeping away from her； so indifferent as to allow the
head of his friend to be cut off；a figure that nothing can explain
but his remorse for having avenged his father on his mother。 Was he a
Catholic Hamlet； or merely the victim of incurable disease？ But the
undying worm which gnawed at the king's vitals was in Ernest's case
simply distrust of himself；the timidity of a man to whom no woman
had ever said； 〃Ah； how I love thee！〃 and； above all； the spirit of
self…devotion without an object。 After hearing the knell of the
monarchy in the fall of his patron's ministry； the poor fellow had
next fallen upon a rock covered with exquisite mosses； named Canalis；
he was； therefore； still seeking a power to love； and this spaniel…
like search for a master gave him outwar