Original Short Stories - Volume 07 , livre ebook

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75 pages

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pubOne.info present you this new edition. Monsieur Lantin had met the young girl at a reception at the house of the second head of his department, and had fallen head over heels in love with her.

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Publié par	Pub One Info
Date de parution	06 novembre 2010
Nombre de lectures	0
EAN13	9782819945482
Langue	English

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THE FALSE GEMS
Monsieur Lantin had met the young girl at areception at the house of the second head of his department, andhad fallen head over heels in love with her.
She was the daughter of a provincial tax collector,who had been dead several years. She and her mother came to live inParis, where the latter, who made the acquaintance of some of thefamilies in her neighborhood, hoped to find a husband for herdaughter.
They had very moderate means, and were honorable,gentle, and quiet.
The young girl was a perfect type of the virtuouswoman in whose hands every sensible young man dreams of one dayintrusting his happiness. Her simple beauty had the charm ofangelic modesty, and the imperceptible smile which constantlyhovered about the lips seemed to be the reflection of a pure andlovely soul. Her praises resounded on every side. People nevertired of repeating: “Happy the man who wins her love! He could notfind a better wife. ”
Monsieur Lantin, then chief clerk in the Departmentof the Interior, enjoyed a snug little salary of three thousandfive hundred francs, and he proposed to this model young girl, andwas accepted.
He was unspeakably happy with her. She governed hishousehold with such clever economy that they seemed to live inluxury. She lavished the most delicate attentions on her husband,coaxed and fondled him; and so great was her charm that six yearsafter their marriage, Monsieur Lantin discovered that he loved hiswife even more than during the first days of their honeymoon.
He found fault with only two of her tastes: Her lovefor the theatre, and her taste for imitation jewelry. Her friends(the wives of some petty officials) frequently procured for her abox at the theatre, often for the first representations of the newplays; and her husband was obliged to accompany her, whether hewished it or not, to these entertainments which bored himexcessively after his day's work at the office.
After a time, Monsieur Lantin begged his wife torequest some lady of her acquaintance to accompany her, and tobring her home after the theatre. She opposed this arrangement, atfirst; but, after much persuasion, finally consented, to theinfinite delight of her husband.
Now, with her love for the theatre, came also thedesire for ornaments. Her costumes remained as before, simple, ingood taste, and always modest; but she soon began to adorn her earswith huge rhinestones, which glittered and sparkled like realdiamonds. Around her neck she wore strings of false pearls, on herarms bracelets of imitation gold, and combs set with glassjewels.
Her husband frequently remonstrated with her,saying:
“My dear, as you cannot afford to buy real jewelry,you ought to appear adorned with your beauty and modesty alone,which are the rarest ornaments of your sex. ”
But she would smile sweetly, and say:
“What can I do? I am so fond of jewelry. It is myonly weakness. We cannot change our nature. ”
Then she would wind the pearl necklace round herfingers, make the facets of the crystal gems sparkle, and say:
“Look! are they not lovely? One would swear theywere real. ”
Monsieur Lantin would then answer, smilingly:
“You have bohemian tastes, my dear. ”
Sometimes, of an evening, when they were enjoying atete-a-tote by the fireside, she would place on the tea table themorocco leather box containing the “trash, ” as Monsieur Lantincalled it. She would examine the false gems with a passionateattention, as though they imparted some deep and secret joy; andshe often persisted in passing a necklace around her husband'sneck, and, laughing heartily, would exclaim: “How droll you look! ”Then she would throw herself into his arms, and kiss himaffectionately.
One evening, in winter, she had been to the opera,and returned home chilled through and through. The next morning shecoughed, and eight days later she died of inflammation of thelungs.
Monsieur Lantin's despair was so great that his hairbecame white in one month. He wept unceasingly; his heart wasbroken as he remembered her smile, her voice, every charm of hisdead wife.
Time did not assuage his grief. Often, during officehours, while his colleagues were discussing the topics of the day,his eyes would suddenly fill with tears, and he would give vent tohis grief in heartrending sobs. Everything in his wife's roomremained as it was during her lifetime; all her furniture, even herclothing, being left as it was on the day of her death. Here he waswont to seclude himself daily and think of her who had been histreasure-the joy of his existence.
But life soon became a struggle. His income, which,in the hands of his wife, covered all household expenses, was nowno longer sufficient for his own immediate wants; and he wonderedhow she could have managed to buy such excellent wine and the raredelicacies which he could no longer procure with his modestresources.
He incurred some debts, and was soon reduced toabsolute poverty. One morning, finding himself without a cent inhis pocket, he resolved to sell something, and immediately thethought occurred to him of disposing of his wife's paste jewels,for he cherished in his heart a sort of rancor against these“deceptions, ” which had always irritated him in the past. The verysight of them spoiled, somewhat, the memory of his lostdarling.
To the last days of her life she had continued tomake purchases, bringing home new gems almost every evening, and heturned them over some time before finally deciding to sell theheavy necklace, which she seemed to prefer, and which, he thought,ought to be worth about six or seven francs; for it was of veryfine workmanship, though only imitation.
He put it in his pocket, and started out in searchof what seemed a reliable jeweler's shop. At length he found one,and went in, feeling a little ashamed to expose his misery, andalso to offer such a worthless article for sale.
“Sir, ” said he to the merchant, “I would like toknow what this is worth. ”
The man took the necklace, examined it, called hisclerk, and made some remarks in an undertone; he then put theornament back on the counter, and looked at it from a distance tojudge of the effect.
Monsieur Lantin, annoyed at all these ceremonies,was on the point of saying: “Oh! I know well 'enough it is notworth anything, ” when the jeweler said: “Sir, that necklace isworth from twelve to fifteen thousand francs; but I could not buyit, unless you can tell me exactly where it came from. ”
The widower opened his eyes wide and remainedgaping, not comprehending the merchant's meaning. Finally hestammered: “You say— are you sure? ” The other replied, drily: “Youcan try elsewhere and see if any one will offer you more. Iconsider it worth fifteen thousand at the most. Come back; here, ifyou cannot do better. ”
Monsieur Lantin, beside himself with astonishment,took up the necklace and left the store. He wished time forreflection.
Once outside, he felt inclined to laugh, and said tohimself: “The fool! Oh, the fool! Had I only taken him at his word!That jeweler cannot distinguish real diamonds from the imitationarticle. ”
A few minutes after, he entered another store, inthe Rue de la Paix. As soon as the proprietor glanced at thenecklace, he cried out:
“Ah, parbleu! I know it well; it was bought here.”
Monsieur Lantin, greatly disturbed, asked:
“How much is it worth? ”
“Well, I sold it for twenty thousand francs. I amwilling to take it back for eighteen thousand, when you inform me,according to our legal formality, how it came to be in yourpossession. ”
This time, Monsieur Lantin was dumfounded. Hereplied:
“But— but— examine it well. Until this moment I wasunder the impression that it was imitation. ”
The jeweler asked:
“What is your name, sir? ”
“Lantin— I am in the employ of the Minister of theInterior. I live at number sixteen Rue des Martyrs. ”
The merchant looked through his books, found theentry, and said: “That necklace was sent to Madame Lantin'saddress, sixteen Rue des Martyrs, July 20, 1876. ”
The two men looked into each other's eyes— thewidower speechless with astonishment; the jeweler scenting a thief.The latter broke the silence.
“Will you leave this necklace here for twenty-fourhours? ” said he; “I will give you a receipt. ”
Monsieur Lantin answered hastily: “Yes, certainly. ”Then, putting the ticket in his pocket, he left the store.
He wandered aimlessly through the streets, his mindin a state of dreadful confusion. He tried to reason, tounderstand. His wife could not afford to purchase such a costlyornament. Certainly not.
But, then, it must have been a present! — a present!— a present, from whom? Why was it given her?
He stopped, and remained standing in the middle ofthe street. A horrible doubt entered his mind— She? Then, all theother jewels must have been presents, too! The earth seemed totremble beneath him— the tree before him to be falling; he threw uphis arms, and fell to the ground, unconscious. He recovered hissenses in a pharmacy, into which the passers-by had borne him. Heasked to be taken home, and, when he reached the house, he shuthimself up in his room, and wept until nightfall. Finally, overcomewith fatigue, he went to bed and fell into a heavy sleep.
The sun awoke him next morning, and he began todress slowly to go to the office. It was hard to work after suchshocks. He sent a letter to his employer, requesting to be excused.Then he remembered that he had to return to the jeweler's. He didnot like the idea; but he could not leave the necklace with thatman. He dressed and went out.
It was a lovely day; a clear, blue sky smiled on thebusy city below. Men of leisure were strolling about with theirhands in their pockets.
Monsieur Lantin, observing them, said to himself:“The rich, indeed, are happy. With money it is possible to forgeteven the deepest sorrow. One can go where one pleases, and intravel find that distraction which is the surest cure for grief. Ohif I were only rich! ”
He perce