SOOTHING WORDS.
During the interview of Adrienne with Rose-Pompon a touching scene took place between Agricola and Mother Bunch, who had been much surprised at Mdlle.de Cardoville's condescension with regard to the grisette.
Immediately after the departure of Adrienne, Agricola had knelt down beside Mother Bunch, and said to her, with profound emotion: "We are alone, and I can at length tell you what weighs upon my heart.This act is too cruel--to die of misery and despair, and not to send to me for assistance."
"Listen to me, Agricola--"
"No, there is no excuse for this.What! we called each other by the names of brother and sister, and for fifteen years gave every proof of sincere affection--and, when the day of misfortune comes, you quit life without caring for those you must leave behind--without considering that to kill yourself is to tell them they are indifferent to you!"
"Forgive me, Agricola! it is true.I had never thought of that," said the workgirl, casting down her eyes; "but poverty--want of work--"
"Misery! want of work! and was I not here?"
"And despair!"
"But why despair? This generous young lady had received you in her house; she knew your worth, and treated you as her friend--and just at the moment when you had every chance of happiness, you leave the house abruptly, and we remain in the most horrible anxiety on your account."
"I feared--to be--to be a burden to my benefactress," stammered she.
"You a burden to Mdlle.de Cardoville, that is so rich and good!"
"I feared to be indiscreet," said the sewing-girl, more and more embarrassed.
Instead of answering his adopted sister, Agricola remained silent, and contemplated her for some moments with an undefinable expression; then he exclaimed suddenly, as if replying to a question put by himself: "She will forgive me for disobeying her.--I am sure of it."
He next turned towards Mother Bunch, who was looking at him in astonishment, and said to her in a voice of emotion: "I am too frank to keep up this deception.I am reproaching you--blaming you--and my thoughts are quite different."
"How so, Agricola?"
"My heart aches, when I think of the evil I have done you."
"I do not understand you, my friend; you have never done me any evil."
"What! never? even in little things? when, for instance, yielding to a detestable habit, I, who loved and respected you as my sister, insulted you a hundred times a day?"
"Insulted me!"
"Yes--when I gave you an odious and ridiculous nickname, instead of calling you properly."
At these words, Mother Bunch looked at the smith in the utmost alarm, trembling lest he had discovered her painful secret, notwithstanding the assurance she had received from Mdlle.de Cardoville.Yet she calmed herself a little when she reflected, that Agricola might of himself have thought of the humiliation inflicted on her by calling her Mother Bunch, and she answered him with a forced smile."Can you be grieved at so small a thing? It was a habit, Agricola, from childhood.When did your good and affectionate mother, who nevertheless loved me as her daughter, ever call me anything else?"
"And did my mother consult you about my marriage, speak to you of the rare beauty of my bride, beg you to come and see her, and study her character, in the hope that the instinct of your affection for me would warn you--if I made a bad choice? Did my mother have this cruelty?--No;
it was I, who thus pierced your heart!"
The fears of the hearer were again aroused; there could be but little doubt that Agricola knew her secret.She felt herself sinking with confusion; yet, ****** a last effort not to believe the discovery, she murmured in a feeble voice: "True, Agricola! It was not your mother, but yourself, who made me that request--and I was grateful to you for such a mark of confidence."
"Grateful, my poor girl!" cried the smith, whilst his eyes filled with tears; "no, it is not true.I pained you fearfully--I was merciless--
heaven knows, without being aware of it!"
"But," said the other, in a voice now almost unintelligible, "what makes you think so?"
"Your love for me!" cried the smith, trembling with emotion, as he clasped Mother Bunch in a brotherly embrace.
"Oh heaven!" murmured the unfortunate creature, as she covered her face with her hands, "he knows all."
"Yes, I know all," resumed Agricola, with an expression of ineffable tenderness and respect: "yes, I know all, and I will not have you blush for a sentiment, which honors me, and of which I feel so justly proud.
Yes, I know all; and I say to myself with joy and pride, that the best, the most noble heart in the world is mine--will be mine always.Come, Magdalen; let us leave shame to evil passions.Raise your eyes, and look at me! You know, if my countenance was ever false--if it ever reflected a feigned emotion.Then look and tell me, if you cannot read in my features, how proud I am, Magdalen, how justly proud of your love!"