La dame aux camélias (Novel). English

by Alexandre Dumas

  Chapter 19

  In his first three letters my father inquired the cause of my silence;in the last he allowed me to see that he had heard of my change of life,and informed me that he was about to come and see me.

  I have always had a great respect and a sincere affection for my father.I replied that I had been travelling for a short time, and begged himto let me know beforehand what day he would arrive, so that I could bethere to meet him.

  I gave my servant my address in the country, telling him to bring methe first letter that came with the postmark of C., then I returned toBougival.

  Marguerite was waiting for me at the garden gate. She looked at meanxiously. Throwing her arms round my neck, she said to me: "Have youseen Prudence?"

  "No."

  "You were a long time in Paris."

  "I found letters from my father to which I had to reply."

  A few minutes afterward Nanine entered, all out of breath. Margueriterose and talked with her in whispers. When Nanine had gone outMarguerite sat down by me again and said, taking my hand:

  "Why did you deceive me? You went to see Prudence."

  "Who told you?"

  "Nanine."

  "And how did she know?"

  "She followed you."

  "You told her to follow me?"

  "Yes. I thought that you must have had a very strong motive for going toParis, after not leaving me for four months. I was afraid that somethingmight happen to you, or that you were perhaps going to see anotherwoman."

  "Child!"

  "Now I am relieved. I know what you have done, but I don't yet know whatyou have been told."

  I showed Marguerite my father's letters.

  "That is not what I am asking you about. What I want to know is why youwent to see Prudence."

  "To see her."

  "That's a lie, my friend."

  "Well, I went to ask her if the horse was any better, and if she wantedyour shawl and your jewels any longer."

  Marguerite blushed, but did not answer.

  "And," I continued, "I learned what you had done with your horses,shawls, and jewels."

  "And you are vexed?"

  "I am vexed that it never occurred to you to ask me for what you were inwant of."

  "In a liaison like ours, if the woman has any sense of dignity at all,she ought to make every possible sacrifice rather than ask her lover formoney and so give a venal character to her love. You love me, I am sure,but you do not know on how slight a thread depends the love one hasfor a woman like me. Who knows? Perhaps some day when you were boredor worried you would fancy you saw a carefully concerted plan in ourliaison. Prudence is a chatterbox. What need had I of the horses? It wasan economy to sell them. I don't use them and I don't spend anythingon their keep; if you love me, I ask nothing more, and you will love mejust as much without horses, or shawls, or diamonds."

  All that was said so naturally that the tears came to my eyes as Ilistened.

  "But, my good Marguerite," I replied, pressing her hands lovingly, "youknew that one day I should discover the sacrifice you had made, and thatthe moment I discovered it I should allow it no longer."

  "But why?"

  "Because, my dear child, I can not allow your affection for me todeprive you of even a trinket. I too should not like you to be able,in a moment when you were bored or worried, to think that if you wereliving with somebody else those moments would not exist; and to repent,if only for a minute, of living with me. In a few days your horses,your diamonds, and your shawls shall be returned to you. They are asnecessary to you as air is to life, and it may be absurd, but I like youbetter showy than simple."

  "Then you no longer love me."

  "Foolish creature!"

  "If you loved me, you would let me love you my own way; on thecontrary, you persist in only seeing in me a woman to whom luxury isindispensable, and whom you think you are always obliged to pay. You areashamed to accept the proof of my love. In spite of yourself, you thinkof leaving me some day, and you want to put your disinterestednessbeyond risk of suspicion. You are right, my friend, but I had betterhopes."

  And Marguerite made a motion to rise; I held her, and said to her:

  "I want you to be happy and to have nothing to reproach me for, that isall."

  "And we are going to be separated!"

  "Why, Marguerite, who can separate us?" I cried.

  "You, who will not let me take you on your own level, but insist ontaking me on mine; you, who wish me to keep the luxury in the midst ofwhich I have lived, and so keep the moral distance which separates us;you, who do not believe that my affection is sufficiently disinterestedto share with me what you have, though we could live happily enough onit together, and would rather ruin yourself, because you are stillbound by a foolish prejudice. Do you really think that I could comparea carriage and diamonds with your love? Do you think that my realhappiness lies in the trifles that mean so much when one has nothingto love, but which become trifling indeed when one has? You will pay mydebts, realize your estate, and then keep me? How long will that last?Two or three months, and then it will be too late to live the life Ipropose, for then you will have to take everything from me, and thatis what a man of honour can not do; while now you have eight or tenthousand francs a year, on which we should be able to live. I will sellthe rest of what I do not want, and with this alone I will make twothousand francs a year. We will take a nice little flat in which we canboth live. In the summer we will go into the country, not to a houselike this, but to a house just big enough for two people. You areindependent, I am free, we are young; in heaven's name, Armand, do notdrive me back into the life I had to lead once!"

  I could not answer. Tears of gratitude and love filled my eyes, and Iflung myself into Marguerite's arms.

  "I wanted," she continued, "to arrange everything without telling you,pay all my debts, and take a new flat. In October we should have beenback in Paris, and all would have come out; but since Prudence hastold you all, you will have to agree beforehand, instead of agreeingafterward. Do you love me enough for that?"

  It was impossible to resist such devotion. I kissed her hands ardently,and said:

  "I will do whatever you wish."

  It was agreed that we should do as she had planned. Thereupon, she wentwild with delight; danced, sang, amused herself with calling up picturesof her new flat in all its simplicity, and began to consult me as toits position and arrangement. I saw how happy and proud she was of thisresolution, which seemed as if it would bring us into closer and closerrelationship, and I resolved to do my own share. In an instant I decidedthe whole course of my life. I put my affairs in order, and made overto Marguerite the income which had come to me from my mother, and whichseemed little enough in return for the sacrifice which I was accepting.There remained the five thousand francs a year from my father; and,whatever happened, I had always enough to live on. I did not tellMarguerite what I had done, certain as I was that she would refuse thegift. This income came from a mortgage of sixty thousand francs on ahouse that I had never even seen. All that I knew was that every threemonths my father's solicitor, an old friend of the family, handed overto me seven hundred and fifty francs in return for my receipt.

  The day when Marguerite and I came to Paris to look for a flat, I wentto this solicitor and asked him what had to be done in order to makeover this income to another person. The good man imagined I was ruined,and questioned me as to the cause of my decision. As I knew that Ishould be obliged, sooner or later, to say in whose favour I made thistransfer, I thought it best to tell him the truth at once. He made noneof the objections that his position as friend and solicitor authorizedhim to make, and assured me that he would arrange the whole affair inthe best way possible. Naturally, I begged him to employ the greatestdiscretion in regard to my father, and on leaving him I rejoinedMarguerite, who was waiting for me at Julie Duprat's, where she had gonein preference to going to listen to the moralizings of Prudence.

  We began to look out for flats. All
those that we saw seemed toMarguerite too dear, and to me too simple. However, we finally found,in one of the quietest parts of Paris, a little house, isolated fromthe main part of the building. Behind this little house was acharming garden, surrounded by walls high enough to screen us from ourneighbours, and low enough not to shut off our own view. It was betterthan our expectations.

  While I went to give notice at my own flat, Marguerite went to seea business agent, who, she told me, had already done for one of herfriends exactly what she wanted him to do for her. She came on to theRue de Provence in a state of great delight. The man had promised to payall her debts, to give her a receipt for the amount, and to hand overto her twenty thousand francs, in return for the whole of her furniture.You have seen by the amount taken at the sale that this honest man wouldhave gained thirty thousand francs out of his client.

  We went back joyously to Bougival, talking over our projects for thefuture, which, thanks to our heedlessness, and especially to our love,we saw in the rosiest light.

  A week later, as we were having lunch, Nanine came to tell us that myservant was asking for me. "Let him come in," I said.

  "Sir," said he, "your father has arrived in Paris, and begs you toreturn at once to your rooms, where he is waiting for you."

  This piece of news was the most natural thing in the world, yet, as weheard it, Marguerite and I looked at one another. We foresaw trouble.Before she had spoken a word, I replied to her thought, and, taking herhand, I said, "Fear nothing."

  "Come back as soon as possible," whispered Marguerite, embracing me; "Iwill wait for you at the window."

  I sent on Joseph to tell my father that I was on my way. Two hours laterI was at the Rue de Provence.