When, on the morning after this dinner, which was to form an era in her life, Mme. Favoral woke up, her husband was already up, pencil in hand, and busy figuring.
The charm had vanished with the fumes of the champagne; and the clouds of the worst days were gathering upon his brow.
Noticing that his wife was looking at him, "It's expensive work," he said in a bluff tone, "to set a business going; and it wouldnt do to commence over again every day."
To hear him speak, one would have thought that Mme. Favoral alone, by dint of hard begging, had persuaded him, into that expense which he now seemed to regret so much. She quietly called his attention to the fact, reminding him that, far from urging, she had endeavored to hold him back; repeating that she augured ill of that business over which he was so enthusiastic, and that, if he would believe her, he would not venture.
"Do you even know what the project is?" he interrupted rudely.
"You have not told me."
"Very well, then: leave me in peace with your presentiments. You dislike my friends; and I saw very well how you treated Mme. de Thaller. But I am the master; and what I have decided shall be.
Besides, I have signed. Once for all, I forbid you ever speaking to me again on that subject."
Whereupon, having dressed himself with much care, he started off, saying that he was expected at breakfast by Saint Pavin, the financial editor, and by M. Jottras, of the house of Jottras & Brother.
A shrewd woman would not have given it up so easy, and, in the end, would probably have mastered the despot, whose intellect was far from brilliant. But Mme. Favoral was too proud to be shrewd; and besides, the springs of her will had been broken by the successive oppression of an odious stepmother and a brutal master. Her abdication of all was complete. Wounded, she kept the secret of her wound, hung her head, and said nothing.
She did not, therefore, venture a single allusion; and nearly a week elapsed, during which the names of her late guests were not once mentioned.
It was through a newspaper, which M. Favoral had forgotten in the parlor, that she learned that the Baron de Thaller had just founded a new stock company, the Mutual Credit Society, with a capital of several millions.
Below the advertisement, which was printed in enormous letters, came a long article, in which it was demonstrated that the new company was, at the same time, a patriotic undertaking and an institution of credit of the first class; that it supplied a great public want; that it would be of inestimable benefit to industry; that its profits were assured; and that to subscribe to its stock was simply to draw short bills upon fortune.
Already somewhat re-assured by the reading of this article, Mme.
Favoral became quite so when she read the names of the board of directors. Nearly all were titled, and decorated with many foreign orders; and the remainder were bankers, office-holders, and even some exministers.
"I must have been mistaken," she thought, yielding unconsciously to the influence of printed evidence.
And no objection occurred to her, when, a few days later, her husband told her, "I have the situation I wanted. I am head cashier of the company of which M. de Thaller is manager."
That was all. Of the nature of this society, of the advantages which it offered him, not one word.
Only by the way in which he expressed himself did Mme. Favoral judge that he must have been well treated; and he further confirmed her in that opinion by granting her, of his own accord, a few additional francs for the daily expenses of the house.
"We must," he declared on this memorable occasion, "do honor to our social position, whatever it may cost."
For the first time in his life, he seemed heedful of public opinion.
He recommended his wife to be careful of her dress and of that of the children, and re-engaged a servant. He expressed the wish of enlarging their circle of acquaintances, and inaugurated his Saturday dinners, to which came assiduously, M. and Mme. Desclavettes, M.
Chapelain the attorney, the old man Desormeaux, and a few others.
As to himself he gradually settled down into those habits from which he was nevermore to depart, and the chronometric regularity of which had secured him the nickname of Old Punctuality, of which he was proud.