The Flower of the Chapdelaines

by George Washington Cable

  There was a smiling silence, and then--"Well," madame said, "they areall to stop here as they riturn. Waiting here, you'll see them all."

  "Yes, and beside', I have some good news for you; news anyhow to me."

  The pair smiled brightly: "You 'ave another letter from Dubroca!"

  "Yes. He's again wounded and in hospital."

  "Oh-h, terrible! tha'z to you good news?"

  "Yes. Look, monsieur; he has, at the front, the chance to be hit somany times. If he's hit and only wounded his chances to be hit againare made one less, eh? And while he's in hospital they are again twoor three less. Shall we not be glad for that? And moreover, how hegot his wound, that is better. He got that taking, by himself, nineBoches! And still the best news is what he writes about his friendCastanado."

  "Ah, Melanie! And you hold that back till now? And you know we arewithout news of him sinze a month! He's promote'? He's decorate'?"

  "He's found a treasure. I think maybe you'll get his letter to-morrow.Me, I got mine soon; passing the post-office I went in and asked."

  "But how, he found a treasure? and what sort?"

  "He just happened to dig it up, in a cellar, in Rheims. He'sbetrothed.'

  "Melanie! What are you saying?"

  "What he says. And that's all he says. I hope you'll hear all aboutthat to-morrow."

  "Oh, any'ow tha'z the bes' of news!" Castanado said, kissing his wife'shand and each temple. "Doubtlezz he's find some lovely orphan of thathideouz war; we can trus' his good sense, our son. But, Melanie, hemuz' have been sick, away from the front, to make that courtship."

  "I do not know. Everything happens terribly fast these days. I hopeyou'll hear all about that to-morrow."

  Castanado playfully lifted a finger: "Melanie, how is that, you passthat poss-office, when it is up-town, while you--?" The question hungunfinished--maybe because Melanie turned so red, maybe because thedoor-bell rang again.

  Enlivened by the high art they had been enjoying and by the fresh nightair, a full half-dozen came in: M. and Mme. De l'Isle, whom the othershad chanced upon as they left the theatre; Dubroca and his wife; Mme.Alexandre; and finally Beloiseau. "Melanie!" was the cry of each ofthese as he or she turned from saluting madame; this was one ofmadame's largest joys; to get early report from larger or smallerfractions of the coterie, on the good things they had seen or heard,from which her muchness otherwise debarred her. The De l'Isles,however, were not such a matter of course as the others, and Mme. Del'Isle, as she greeted Mme. Castanado, said, in an atmosphere thattrembled with its load of mingled French and English:

  "We got something to show you!"

  In the same atmosphere--"And how got you away from yo' patient?" Mme.Alexandre asked her daughter as they embraced a second time.

  "I tore myself," said Melanie, while Castanado, to all the rest, wassaying:

  "And such great news as Mel'----"

  But a sharp glance from Melanie checked him. "Such great news as wehave receive'! Our son is bethroath'!--to a good, dizcreet, beautifulFrench girl; which he _foun_', in a cellar at Rheims!" When adrum-fire of questions fell on him he grew reticent and answeredquietly: "We have only that by firz' letter. Full particular' prettysoon, perchanze to-morrow."

  "Then to-morrow we'll come hear ab-out it," Beloiseau said, "and tellab-out the movie. Mme. De l'Isle she's also got fine news, what shecann' tell biffo' biccause"--he waved to Mme. De l'Isle to say why, buther husband spoke for her.

  "Biccause," he said, "'tis all in a pigture, war pigture, on a New YorkSunday paper, and of co'se we coul'n' stop under street lamp for that;and with yo' permission"--to Mme. Castanado--"we'll show that firz' ofall to Scipion."

  Beloiseau put on glasses and looked. "'General Joffre--'" he began toread.

  "No, no! not that! This one, where you know the _general_ only by theback of his head."

  "Ah--ah, yes; 'Two _aviateur_' riceiving from General Joffre'--my God!De l'Isle--my God! madame,"--Scipion pounded his breast with thepaper--"they are yo' son and mine!"

  The company rushed to his elbows. "My faith! Castanado, there aretheir name'! and 'For destrugtion of their eighteenth enemy aeroplane,under circumstance' calling for exceptional coolnezz and intrepid-ity!'"

  There was great and general rejoicing and some quite pardonableboasting, under cover of which Melanie and her mother slipped out bythe inside way, without mention of the young Dubroca, his prisoners,sickness, or letter, except to his father and mother, who told of himmore openly when the Alexandres were safely gone. That brought freshgladness and praise, a fair share of which was for Melanie.

  So presently the remaining company vanished, leaving Mme. Castanadofree to embrace her kneeling husband and boast again the power ofprayer.

  XLV

  The cathedral that year was undergoing repairs.

  Its cypress-log foundations, which had kept sound from colonial days ina soil always wet, had begun to decay when a new drainage system beganto dry it out. Fact, but also allegory.

  It may have been in connection with this work, or with some change inthe house of the Discalceated Sisters of Mt. Carmel, or of thearchbishop, or of St. Augustine's Church, that a certain priest ofexceptional taste, Beloiseau's father confessor, dropped in on him toorder an ornamental wrought-iron grille for the upper half of a newdoor. While looking at patterns he asked:

  "And what is the latest word from your son?"

  Scipion showed him that picture--he had bought one for himself--thedear old unmistakable back of "Papa Joffre," and the dear youngunmistakable faces of the two boys, Beloiseau and De l'Isle.

  A talk followed, on the conflict between a father's pride and hisyearning to see his only son safely delivered from constant deadlyperil. They spoke of Aline. Not for the first time; Scipion, unawarethat the good father was her confessor also, had told him before of hisson's hopeless love, to ask if it was not right for him, the father, tohelp Chester win the marvellous girl, since winning would win the twoboys home again.

  Patterns waited while the ironworker said that to the tender chagrin ofall the coterie Chester was refused--a man of such fineness, suchpromise, mind, charm, and integrity, and so fitted for her in years,temperament, and tastes, that no girl, however perfect, could hope tobe courted by more than one such in a lifetime.

  In brief Creole prose he struck the highest key of Shakespeare'ssonnets: "Was she not doing a grievous wrong to herself and Chester, tothe whole coterie that so adored her, especially to the De l'Isles andhimself, and even to society at large? Her reasons," he said, shiftingto English, "I can guess _at them_, but guessing at 'alf-a-dozenconvinze' me of none!"

  "Have you guess' at differenze of rilligious faith?" the priestinquired.

  "Yes, but--nothing doing; I 'ave to guess no."

  "Tha'z a great matter to a good Catholic."

  "Ah, father! Or-_din_-arily, yes. Bud this time no. Any'ow, thistime tha'z not for us Catholic' to be diztress' ab-out. . . . Ah, yes,chil'ren. But, you know? If daughter', they'll be of the faith andconduc' of the mother; if son', faith of the mother, conduc' of thefather; and I think with that even you, pries' of God, be satizfie', eh?

  "My dear frien', you know what I billieve? Me, I billieve in heaventhey are _waiting impatiently_ for that marriage."

  The priest may have been professionally delinquent, but he chose toleave the argument unrefuted. He smilingly looked at his watch."Well," he said, "I choose this design. Make it so. Good evening."He turned away. Beloiseau called after him, but the man of God keptstraight on.

  The ironworker loitered back to where the chosen pattern lay, and stoodover it still thinking of Chester. Presently a soft voice sounded soclose by that he turned abruptly. At his side was an extremely winsomestranger. His artistic eye instantly remarked not only herwell-preserved beauty, but its gentle dignity, rare refinement, anduntypical quality. Whether it was Creole or _Americain_, Southern,Northern, or Western, nothing betrayed; on the surface at lea
st, theprovincial, as far as the ironworker could see, was wholly bred out ofher. He noted also the unimpaired excellence of her erect and girlishslightness and, under her pretty hat and early whitened hair, thecarven fineness of her features. Her whole attire pleasantly befittedher years, which might have been anything short of fifty; and yet, ifScipion was right, she might have dressed for thirty.

  "Are you Mr. Beloiseau?" she inquired.

  "I am," he said.

  "Mr. Beloiseau, I'm the mother of Geoffry Chester. You know him, Ibelieve?"

  "Oh, is that possible? He is my esteem' frien', madame. Will you"--hebegan to dust a lone chair.

  "No, thank you; I came to find Geoffry's quarters. I left the hotelwith my memorandum, but must have dropped it. I remember onlyBienville Street."

  "He's not there any mo'. Sinze only two day' he's move'. Mrs.Chezter, if you'll egscuse me till I can change the coat I'll show youthose new quarter'. Whiles I'm changing you can look ad that book ofpattern', and also--here--there's a pigtorial of New York; that--tha'zof my son and the son of my neighbor up-stair', De l'Isle, ric'ivingmedal' from General Joffre----"

  "Why, Mr. Beloiseau can it be!"

  "But you know, Mrs. Chezter, he's not there presently, yo' son. He'sgone at St. Martinville, to the court there."

  "Yes, to be back to-morrow or next day. They told me in his officethis forenoon. I reached the city only at eleven, train late. Hedidn't know I was coming. My telegram's on his desk unopened. Buthaving time, I thought I'd see whether he's living comfortably or onlyfancies he is."

  On their way Mrs. Chester and her guide hardly spoke until Scipionasked: "Madame, when you was noticing yo' telegram on the desk of yo'son you di'n' maybe notiz' a letter from New York? We are prettieanxiouz for that to come to yo' son. I do' know if you know about thator no, but M. De l'Isle and madame, and Castanado and his madame, andDubroca and his madame, and Mme. Alexandre and me, and threeChapdelaine', we are all prettie anxiouz for that letter."

  "Yes, I know about it, and there is one, from a New Yorkpublishing-house, on Geoffry's desk."

  "Well, madame, Marais Street, here's the place. Ah! and street-car--orjitney--passing thiz corner will take you ag-ain at yo' hotel."

  XLVI

  Satisfied with her son's quarters, Mrs. Chester returned to her hoteland had just dined when her telephone rang.

  "Mme.--oh, Mme. De l'Isle, I'm so please'----"

  The instrument reciprocated the pleasure. "If Mrs. Chezter was not toofat-igue' by travelling, monsieur and madame would like to call."

  Soon they appeared and in a moment whose brevity did honor to bothsides had established cordial terms. Rising to go, the pair asked agreat favor. It made them, they said, "very 'appy to perceive that Mr.Chezter, by writing, has make his mother well acquaint' with that li'l'coterie in Royal Street, in which they, sometime', 'ave the honor to beinclude'." "The honor" meant the modest condescension, and when Mrs.Chester's charming smile recognized the fact the pair took freshdelight in her. "An' that li'l' coterie, sinze hearing that fromBeloiseau juz' this evening, are anxiouz to see you at ones; they are,like ourselve', so fon' of yo' son; and they cannot call alltogether--my faith, that would be a procession! And bi-side', Mme.Castanado she--well--you understan' why that is--she never go' h-out.Same time M. Castanado he's down-stair' waiting----

  "Shall I go around there with you? I'll be glad to go." They went.

  Through that "recommend'" of Chester, got by Thorndyke-Smith for thelaw firm, and by him shown to M. De l'Isle, the coterie knew that thepretty lady whom they welcomed in Castanado's little parlor was of afamily line from which had come three State governors, one of whom hadbeen also his State's chief justice. One of her pleasantestimpressions as she made herself at ease among them, and they around herand Mme. Castanado, was that they regarded this fact as honoring allwhile flattering none. She found herself as much, and as kindly, ontrial before them as they before her, and saw that behind all theirlively conversation on such comparatively light topics as the WorldWar, greater New Orleans, and the decay of the times, the main questionwas not who, but what, she was. As for them, they proved at leastequal to the best her son had ever written of them.

  And they found her a confirmation of the best they had ever discernedin her son. In her fair face they saw both his masculine beauty andthe excellence of his mind better interpreted than they had seen themin his own countenance. A point most pleasing to them was the palpablefact that she was in her son's confidence. Evidently, though arrivingsooner than expected, her coming was due to his initiative. Clearly hehad written things that showed a juncture wherein she, if but promptenough, might render the last great service of her life to his. Oh,how superior to the ordinary American slap-dash of the matrimoniallottery! They felt that they themselves had taken the American way toomuch for granted. Maybe that was where they were unlike Mlle. Aline.But she was not there, to perceive these things, nor her aunts, to beseen and estimated. The evening's outcome could be but inconclusive,but it was a happy beginning.

  Its most significant part was a brief talk following the mention of theCastanado soldier-boy's engagement. His expected letter had come,bringing many pleasant particulars of it, and the two parents wereenjoying a genuine and infectious complacency. "And one thing of thelargez' importanze, Mrs. Chezter," madame said with sweet enthusiasm,"--the two they are of the one ril-ligion!"

  Was the announcement unlucky, or astute? At any rate it threw thesubject wide open by a side door, and Mrs. Chester calmly walked in.

  "That's certainly fortunate," she said. Every ear was alert andBeloiseau was suddenly eager to speak, but she smilingly went on: "It'strue that, coming of a family of politicians, and being petdaughter--only one--of a judge, I may be a trifle broad on that point.Still I think you're right and to be congratulated."

  The whole coterie felt a glad thrill. "Ah, madame," Beloiseauexclaimed, "you are co'rec'! But, any'ow, in a caze where the twofaith' _are_ con-_tra_-ry 'tis not for you Protestant' to be diztres'ab-out! You, you don' care so much ab-out those myzterie' of bil-iefas about those rule' of conduc'. Almoze, I may say, you run those_rule_' of conduc' into the groun'--and tha'z right! And bis-ide', you'ave in everything--politic', law, trade, society--so much the upperhan'--in the bes' senze--ah, of co'se in the bes' senze!--that thechil'ren of such a case they are pretty sure goin' to be Protestant!"

  Mrs. Chester, having her choice, to say either that marriages acrossdifferences of faith had peculiar risks, or that Geoffry's uncle, the"Angel of the Lord," had married, happily, a Catholic, chose neither,let the subject be changed, and was able to assure the company that themissive on Geoffry's desk was no bulky manuscript, but a neat thinletter under one two-cent stamp.

  "Accept'!" they cried, "that beautiful true story of 'The 'Oly Crozz'is accept'! Mesdemoiselles they have strug the oil!"

  Mme. Castanado had a further conviction:

  "'Tis the name of it done that! They coul'n' rif-use that name!--andeven notwithstanding that those publisher' they are maybe Protestant!"

  The good nights were very happy. The last were said five squares away,at the hotel, to which the De l'Isles brought her back afoot. "Andto-morrow evening, four o'clock," madame said, "I'll come and we'll gomake li'l' visite at those Chapdelaine'."

  Mrs. Chester had but just removed her hat when again the telephone;from the hotel office--"Your son is here. Yes, shall we send him up?"

  XLVII

  With hands under their gray sleeves two white-bonneted _religieuses_turned into Bourbon Street and rang the Chapdelaines' street bell.

  Mlle. Yvonne flutteringly let them into the garden, Mlle. Corinne intothe house. The conversation was in English, for, though SisterConstance was French, Sister St. Anne, young, fair, and the chiefspeaker, was Irish. They came from Sister Superior Veronique, theysaid, to see further about mesdemoiselles entering, eh----

  Smilingly mesdemoiselles fluttered more than ever. "Ah, yes, yes!Well
, you know, sinze we talk ab-out that with the archbishop we'vetalk' ab-out it with our niece al-_so_, and we think she's got to getmarrie' befo' we can do that, biccause to live al-lone that way she'stoo young. But we 'ave the 'ope she's goin' to marry, and then----!"

  "Have you made a will?"

  "Will! Ah, we di'n' never think of that! Tha'z a marvellouz we di'n'never think of that--when we are the two-third' owner' of that lovelyproprity there! And we think tha'z always improving in cozt, thatplace, biccause so antique an' so pittoresque. And if Aline shemarrie' and we, we join that asylum doubtlezz Aline she'll be rij-oice'to combine with us to leave that lovely proprity ad the lazt to thechurch! Biccause, you know, to take that to heaven with us, tha'zimpossible, and the church tha'z the nearez' we can come." Odd as themoment seemed for them, tears rolled down their smiling faces.

  "But"--they dried their eyes--"there's another thing also bisside'. Weare, all three, the authorezz' of a story that we are prettie suretha'z accept' by the publisher'; an' of co'ze if tha'z accept'--and ifthose publisher' they don' swin'le us, like so oftten--we don't need tobe orphan' never any mo', and we'll maybe move up-town and juz' keepthat proprity here for a souvenir of our in-fancy. But that betwo-three days yet biffo' we can be sure ab-oud that. Maybe ad thelaz' we'll 'ave to join the asylum, but tha'z our hope, to move up towninto the _quartier nouveau_ and that beautiful 'garden diztric'.' Butwe'll always _con_-tinue to love the old 'ouse here. 'Tis a verygenuine ancient _relique_, that 'ouse. You see those wall'? Solidplank of two inch' and from Kentucky!" They went through the wholestory--the house, the relics of their childhood--"Go you, Yvonne, fedgethem!"