Free Cousin Bette by Honore Balzac Page A

cockles of his heart. But mum’s the word! You promised!’
    â€˜He’ll go the same way as the five others,’ the girl said teasingly, still looking at the seal.
    â€˜Six, Mademoiselle! I left one in Lorraine who would have fetched the moon out of the sky for me, and still would to this day.’
    â€˜This one does even better. He brings you the sun.’
    â€˜How can I make money out of that?’ Cousin Bette demanded. ‘You need to own a lot of land for the sun to be of any use to you.’
    Capping each other’s pleasantries with nonsense that may be imagined, they had burst into the laughter that had caused the Baroness such poignant distress as she saw her daughter unrestrainedly enjoying the gaiety natural at her age and was forced to think what her future might be.
    â€˜But if he gives you jewels that have taken six months to make, it must be because he owes you a great deal?’ said Hortense, her mind profoundly exercised by the seal.
    â€˜Ah, you want to know too much all at once!’ Cousin Bette replied. ‘But listen… now I’m going to let you into a secret.’
    â€˜Shall I be with your sweetheart in it?’
    â€˜Ah! you would like to see him, wouldn’t you? But, you know, when an old maid like your Bette has managed to keep a sweetheart for five years, she has him well tucked away. So you may leave us alone. I don’t possess a cat or a canary, you see, or a dog or a parrot, and an old nanny like me needs some little thing to love and make a fuss over; well… I give myself a Pole.’
    â€˜Has he got moustaches?’
    â€˜As long as that,’ said Bette, holding up a large needle filled with gold thread. She always took her sewing out with her, and worked while waiting for dinner.
    â€˜If you keep interrupting me with questions,’ she went on, ‘you shall not be told anything. Here you are, only twenty-two, and you have much more to say than I have at forty-two, almost forty-three.’
    â€˜I’m all ears. I’m as dumb as a doorpost,’ said Hortense.
    â€˜My sweetheart has made a bronze group ten inches high of Samson tearing a lion to pieces,’ Cousin Bette continued; ‘and he buried it in the ground and got it covered with verdigris, so that anyone would think that it’s as old as Samson. It’s for sale as a work of art in one of the antique shops in the place du Carrousel, near my house. If only your father, knowing Monsieur Popinot, the Minister of Commerce and Agriculture,and Count de Rastignac, as he does, would speak to them about this group as a fine antique that he had happened to notice in passing! It seems that the great have a taste for that kind of thing instead of keeping their minds on our sword-knots, and that my sweetheart’s fortune would be made if they bought or even came to look at this worn-looking lump of metal. The poor boy declares that the thing would be taken for an antique, and fetch a handsome price. And then, if it was one of the Ministers who took the group, he would go and present himself, prove that he made it, and bays would crown his head! Oh, he thinks no small beer of himself, that young man! He’s as full of pride as two new-made Counts!’
    â€˜He’s Michelangelo over again,’ said Hortense; ‘and for a lover he has kept his wits… How much does he want for it?’
    â€˜Fifteen hundred francs! The dealer can’t take less, because he has to have his share.’
    â€˜Papa is King’s Commissioner at present,’ said Hortense. ‘He sees the two Ministers every day in the Chamber and he’ll arrange what you want, I’ll see to it. You’ll be a rich woman, Madame la Comtesse Steinbock!’
    â€˜No, my young man is too lazy. He spends whole weeks twisting and playing with red wax, and nothing gets done. Ah bah! he spends his life in the Louvre, in the Library, looking at engravings and