Beauregard de Farniente - The Adventures of Father Silas

Susan, as I have before related, had made a nosegay for Madame Dinville, (for that was the name of her godmother), the wife of a counsellor of the neighboring town, who came to reside at her country house for the purpose of taking a milk diet to repair a stomach damaged by champagne and other causes.

Susan had decked herself out in her best, which made her still more lovely in my eyes, and I was invited to accompany her. We went to the chateau, and there we found the lady enjoying the cool air of a summer apartment. Figure to yourself a woman of the middle size, with dark hair, a white skin, a face, on the whole rather ugly, reddened by drinking champagne; dark eyes, full breasts, and as amorously inclined as any woman in the world. This at first appeared to me her only good quality; those two globes have always been my weak side. Oh, 'tis something so nice, when you put your hands on them, when you… But every one to his own taste, give me these.

As soon as the lady saw us, she gave us a kind look without changing her posture. She was reclining on a sofa, with one leg up and the other on the floor; she had on merely a single white petticoat, short enough to show you her knee, which was not so much covered as to make you think it would be very difficult to see the rest; a short corset of the same color, and a jacket of rose-colored taffetas negligently put on; her hand was under her petticoat-guess for what purpose. My imagination was up in a moment, and my heart was not far behind; henceforward it became my fate to fall in love with every woman I saw; the discovery of the last evening had awakened in me all these laudable propensities.

“Ah! good day, my dear child,” said Madame Dinville to Susan; “and so you have come to see me. What! Have you brought me a nosegay? Truly I am very much obliged to you, my dear girl. Come and embrace me.”

Susan did so. “But,” continued she, looking at me, “who is that fine big boy there? What, my little dear, you have brought a boy to accompany you; that is pretty.” I looked on the ground, but Susan said that I was her brother, at which I bowed.

“Your brother,” replied Madame Dinville, “come then,” she continued, looking at me as she spoke, “kiss me, my son; we must be acquainted.” She gave me a kiss on the mouth, and I felt a little tongue slip between my lips, and a hand playing with the curls of my hair. I was rather confused, for I was not used to this way of kissing. I looked at her timidly, and met her shining and animated eyes, which made me turn mine down. Another and similar kiss succeeded, after which I was able to stir; for previously she held me so close that I could not. But I did not care for that, as it seemed to be cutting short the ceremonial of making acquaintance. I was no doubt indebted for my liberty to the reflections she made of the bad effect that such unbounded caresses at a first interview might produce. But these reflections were not of long duration, for she again began talking to Susan, and the burden of every period was “Come and kiss me.”

At first I kept a respectful distance.

“So,” said she, addressing me, “that big boy there won't come and…?”

I advanced and kissed her cheek, not yet daring to venture on the mouth, but still I was rather bolder than at first. She thus divided her caresses between me and my sister for some time; and at last I had made such progress, that I did not wait to be told when it was my turn. By degrees my sister desisted, and I had the exclusive privilege of enjoying the lady's kisses, while Susan was content with words.

We sat on the sofa and chatted, for Madame Dinville was a precious gossip, Susan on her right, myself on her left. Susan looked in the garden, Madame looked at me, and amused herself with uncurling my hair, pinching my cheek, and gently patting me; I also amused myself with looking at her, and her easy manners soon emboldened me. I became quite impudent, yet she said nothing, only looked at me, laughed, and let me continue my sport. My hand descended insensibly from her neck to her bosom, and pressed with delight upon a breast whose elastic firmness rebounded to the touch.

My heart swam in pleasure, as I grasped one of those charming globes, which I handled as I pleased. I was going to put my lips to it; for by pushing forwards we reach the goal. I do believe I should have followed up my fortune to its proper conclusion, had not a cursed marplot, in the person of the bailiff of the village, an old ape sent by some demon jealous of my happiness, made his entry into the antechamber.

Madame Dinville, roused by the noise the old booby made, said to me: “What are you about, you little rogue!” I withdrew my hand hastily; my effrontery was not yet proof against censure; I blushed, and thought myself lost; but the kind lady saw my embarrassment, and gave me to understand by a gentle slap accompanied with a charming smile, that her anger was only a formality, and her looks convinced me that my boldness was less disagreeable to her than the arrival of the bailiff.

He came in-a tiresome blockhead!-After coughing, spitting, sneezing and blowing his nose, he made his harangue, which was more disagreeable than his personal appearance.

Had we escaped with that, it had not been far amiss; but it appeared as if the old knave had ordered the whole village to follow his example; for clown after clown came to pay their respects, until I grew almost mad. When Madame Dinville had replied to a great many foolish compliments, she turned towards us and said:

“Well, my children, you must come and dine with me tomorrow, and we shall be alone.”

It seemed to me that she meant to cast her eyes on me as she said the last word. My heart rejoiced in this assurance, and I felt that, without doing my inclinations any wrong, my little self-love had no dislike to be flattered.

“You will come, Susan,” continued Madame, “and will bring Silas with you” (for such is the appellation of your humble servant). “Silas, adieu,” said she embracing me, which I was no way backward in returning.

I certainly was in a condition to do myself honor in the eyes of Madame Dinville, had it not been for the unexpected visit of those stupid people with their still more stupid compliments: but what I felt towards her was not love, it was only a violent desire to do with some woman as I had seen Father Polycarp do with Annette, and the delay of a day imposed on me by Madame D. seemed an eternity. I attempted, as we went home, to get round Susan, by calling to her mind the occurrence of the previous evening.

“What a simpleton you were, Susan,” said I, “did you think I wished to hurt you yesterday?”

“What did you mean then?” said she.

“To please you much.”

“What!” said she, appearing to be surprised “by putting your hand under my petticoat, could you give me pleasure?”

“Certainly, and if you like I will prove it to you directly,” said I: “come aside with me here.” I anxiously read her countenance, to ascertain what effect my words had produced, but I saw nothing more usual. “Will you now, my dear,” continued I, caressing her.

“But,” replied she, without seeming to notice what I had proposed, “what is the pleasure of which you speak so highly?”

“It is,” I answered, “the union of a man and woman who embrace, closely pressing each other, and who finish by swooning while so locked together.” I kept my eyes on my sister's face, and concealed the emotions which agitated me. I perceived, by the heaving of her bosom, that she was becoming gradually excited.

“But,” said she, with a simplicity which seemed to augur well for my designs, “my father has held me as you say many times, and I never felt any such pleasure as you promise me.”

“That is,” I replied, “because he did not serve you exactly as I should.”