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Page 54
Lucan thanked her for the permission, but without availing himself of it;
then, while making all his little arrangements of neighborly comfort:
"You were remarkably handsome to-night, my dear child!" he said.
"Monsieur," said Julia, in a nonchalant but affirmative tone, "I forbid
you to think me handsome, and I forbid you to call me 'my dear child!'"
"As you please," said Lucan. "Well, then, you are not handsome, you are
not dear to me, and you are not a child."
"As for being a child, no!" she said, energetically.
She wound her vail around her head, crossed her arms over her bosom, and
settled herself in her corner, where a stray moonbeam came occasionally to
play over her whiteness.
"May I sleep?" she asked.
"Why, most certainly! Shall I close the window?"
"If you please. My flowers will not incommode you?"
"Not in the least."
After a pause:
"Monsieur de Lucan?" resumed Julia.
"Dear madam?"
"Do explain to me in what consist the usages of society; for there are
things which I do not understand. Is it admissible--is it proper to allow
a woman of my age and a gentleman of yours to return from a ball,
tete-a-tete, at two o'clock in the morning?"
"But," said Lucan, not without a certain gravity, "I am not a gentleman; I
am your mother's husband."
"Ah! that is true; of course, you are my mother's husband!" she said,
emphasizing these words in a ringing voice, which caused Lucan to fear
some explosion.
But, appearing to overcome a violent emotion, she went on in an almost
cheerful tone:
"Yes, you are my mother's husband; and what is more, you are, according to
my notion, a very bad husband for my mother."
"According to your notion!" said Lucan, quietly. "And why so?"
"Because you are not at all suited to her."
"Have you consulted your mother on that subject, my dear madam? It seems
to me that she must be a better judge of it than yourself."
"I need not consult her. It is enough to see you both together. My mother
is an angelic creature, whereas you;--no!"
"What am I, then?"
"A romantic, restless man--the very reverse, in fact. Sooner or later,
you'll betray her."
"Never!" said Lucan, somewhat sternly.
"Are you quite sure of that, sir?" said Julia, riveting her gaze upon him
from the depths of her hood.
"Dear madam," replied Monsieur de Lucan, "you were asking me, a moment
since, to explain to you what was proper and what was improper; well, it
is improper that we should take, you your mother, and I my wife, as the
text for a jest of that kind, and consequently, it is proper that we
should drop the subject."
She hushed, remained motionless and closed her eyes. In the course of a
minute or two, Lucan saw a tear fall down her long eyelashes and roll over
her cheek.
"Mon Dieu! my child," he said, "I have wounded your feelings! Allow me to
tender you my sincere apologies."
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