The World's Greatest Books [Volumes 1-15, 17-20]

Renée was the youngest daughter of a distinguished Napoleonic officer, who, at the time of the revolution of 1830, was elected deputy, and fought with all his ardour for the Liberal cause, but who subsequently, at the urging of his wife, a tyrannical conventional member of the bourgeois, retired from the world of politics and established a sugar refinery, so as to be able to provide suitably for his three children.

The first two, a boy born in 1826 and a daughter in 1827, were a disappointment to the old soldier. They were too reasonable, too "grown-up" before they were children, but in Renée, who was born after an interval of eight years, M. Mauperin found ample consolation. His heart revelled in her pranks and merry laughter, and she grew up the pet of her father, whose affection she returned with all her heart. She was now twenty; her brother Henri, serious, studious, plodding and determined to make a career, was a lawyer, and had made some reputation by his articles on statistical subjects; and Henriette, her elder sister, had found a husband in M. Davarande, whose wealth and position allowed her to devote herself to the life of empty amusement, divided mainly between long rounds of calls, the opera, and the Bois, which filled the days of the moneyed Paris bourgeoisie of that time.

Madame Mauperin, delighted with Henriette's match, was anxious to find an equally suitable partner for Renée; but the high-spirited girl had a will of her own, and seemed to take almost a pleasure in crossing her mother's transparent matrimonial schemes. Quite a number of eligible young men had been introduced to the house at La Briche--and had left it without having furthered their suit. Reverchon had now been invited with similar intentions, and Renée was no more amenable than before. While her mother filled the young man's ears with praise of her accomplishments, the wayward girl, with her charming ingenuous talk, did her best to demonstrate her lack of those negative conventional virtues that were expected from a well-educated French girl in those days. She made Madame Mauperin turn first crimson, then pale, when she finally proceeded to cut Denoisel's hair in the drawing-room after dinner.

Denoisel was the son of Mauperin's bosom friend, who had fought by his side in many battles, and who on his death-bed had made him his son's guardian. Mauperin became more than a guardian to the boy--he became his father. When Henri and Henriette were born, it seemed to Denoisel that he had been given a brother and sister; but he adored the baby Renée, and he alone succeeded in making her listen and obey.

"Sometimes," said Henri to Denoisel as they travelled back to Paris, "my sister's follies are harmless enough; but to-night ... before that fellow ... I am sure the marriage will fall through. And such an excellent match!"

"You think so? I began to fear for her. And that's why I lent myself to her prank. He is too hopelessly commonplace--a tailor's dummy! He would never have understood her. Your sister ought to marry a man of intelligence and character."

And Madame Mauperin, as she prepared for bed, lectured her husband upon acceding to all his favourite's whims.

"Another marriage missed! Henri spoke to me this evening. He is sure Reverchon will not have her."

"Well, what of it?"

"Why, he is the tenth! Renée will get an awful reputation. She will see when she is thirty ... and you too." Then, after a pause, "And now about your son. He is twenty-nine now. He, at any rate, has no objection to marriage. Have you ever thought of finding him a suitable wife?"

She continued to talk and to grumble until Mauperin fell asleep.

"Henri is reasonable enough, but he is a young man, and you know the danger. It's driving me mad! What do you think of trying Madame Rosiéres?"

There was no reply. Madame Mauperin resigned herself to silence, and turned to find the sleep which only came with morning.

II.--Plots and Plays

Next morning Madame Mauperin proceeded to Paris, and drove to her son's apartments in the Rue Taitbout. She found him at work. After some beating about the bush she approached the object of her visit.

"I fear," she began, "that you must have some reason for ..."

"For not marrying, isn't it? My dear mother, you need not worry. I know that wealth is needed for a successful career, and that the best and most honourable way to obtain it is a good marriage. And I am determined to make a career. I shall get married soon enough... and better, perhaps, than you think."

At La Briche, meanwhile, M. Mauperin vainly tried to be stern with his pet.

"I have done it purposely," she said.

"And why?"

"Because I love you better than that young gentleman who was in no way sympathetic to me. You are ungrateful."

"But listen, my dear child! Fathers are egotists, and would prefer to keep their children. But I am old, and I should not like to part without seeing you married, a mother, with affections that will replace mine."