add: "Yes, of course, I know that she hasn't yet
quite cured you. But we must not despair of her kindness. She loves us so
well, she shows us so many favours that she will certainly end by curing
you, since that is now the only favour that remains for her to grant us."
Madame Vigneron, who was listening, drew near and said: "How happy we
should have been to have returned to Paris all three hale and hearty!
Nothing is ever perfect!"
"I say!" suddenly observed Monsieur Vigneron, "I sha'n't be able to leave
with you this afternoon, on account of the formalities which have to be
gone through. I hope that my return ticket will still be available
to-morrow!"
They were both getting over the frightful shock, feeling a sense of
relief in spite of their affection for Madame Chaise; and, in fact, they
were already forgetting her, anxious above all things to leave Lourdes as
soon as possible, as though the principal object of their journey had
been attained. A decorous, unavowed delight was slowly penetrating them.
"When I get back to Paris there will be so much for me to do," continued
M. Vigneron. "I, who now only long for repose! All the same I shall
remain my three years at the Ministry, until I can retire, especially now
that I am certain of the retiring pension of chief clerk. But
afterwards--oh! afterwards I certainly hope to enjoy life a bit. Since
this money has come to us I shall purchase the estate of Les Billottes,
that superb property down at my native place which I have always been
dreaming of. And I promise you that I sha'n't find time hanging heavy on
my hands in the midst of my horses, my dogs, and my flowers!"
Little Gustave was still on his father's knee, his night-shirt tucked up,
his whole wretched misshapen body shivering, and displaying the
scragginess of a slowly dying child. When he perceived that his father,
now full of his dream of an opulent life, no longer seemed to notice that
he was there, he gave one of his enigmatical smiles, in which melancholy
was tinged with malice. "But what about me, father?" he asked.
M. Vigneron started, like one aroused from sleep, and did not at first
seem to understand. "You, little one? You'll be with us, of course!"
But Gustave gave him a long, straight look, without ceasing to smile with
his artful, though woeful lips. "Oh! do you think so?" he asked.
"Of course I think so! You'll be with us, and it will be very nice to be
with us."
Uneasy, stammering
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