Read Online Ursula by Honoré de Balzac - Free Book Online
Authors: Honoré de Balzac
Tags: French literature
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fair hair, laid flat on either side of the head, each little strand reflecting the light as she walked. Her gray eyes, soft and proud at the same time, were in harmony with a finely modeled brow. A rosy tinge, suffusing her cheeks like a cloud, brightened a face which was regular without being insipid; for nature had given her, by some rare privilege, extreme purity of form combined with strength of countenance. The nobility of her life was manifest in the general expression of her person, which might have served as a model for a type of trustfulness, or of modesty. Her health, though brilliant, was not coarsely apparent; in fact, her whole air was distinguished. Beneath the little gloves of a light color it was easy to imagine her pretty hands. The arched and slender feet were delicately shod in bronzed kid boots trimmed with a brown silk fringe. Her blue sash holding at the waist a small flat watch and a blue purse with gilt tassels attracted the eyes of every woman she met.
"He has given her a new watch!" said Madame Cremiere, pinching her husband's arm.
"Heavens! is that Ursula?" cried Desire; "I didn't recognize her."
"Well, my dear uncle," said the post master, addressing the doctor and pointing to the whole population drawn up in parallel hedges to let the doctor pass, "everybody wants to see you."
"Was it the Abbe Chaperon or Mademoiselle Ursula who converted you, uncle," said Massin, bowing to the doctor and his protegee, with Jesuitical humility.
"Ursula," replied the doctor, laconically, continuing to walk on as if annoyed.
The night before, as the old man finished his game of whist with Ursula, the Nemours doctor, and Bongrand, he remarked, "I intend to go to church to-morrow."
"Then," said Bongrand, "your heirs won't get another night's rest."
The speech was superfluous, however, for a single glance sufficed the sagacious and clear-sighted doctor to read the minds of his heirs by the expression of their faces. Zelie's irruption into the church, her glance, which the doctor intercepted, this meeting of all the expectant ones in the public square, and the expression in their eyes as they turned them on Ursula, all proved to him their hatred, now freshly awakened, and their sordid fears.
"It is a feather in your cap, Mademoiselle," said Madame Cremiere, putting in her word with a humble bow,—"a miracle which will not cost you much."
"It is God's doing, madame," replied Ursula.
"God!" exclaimed Minoret-Levrault; "my father-in-law used to say he served to blanket many horses."
"Your father-in-law had the mind of a jockey," said the doctor severely.
"Come," said Minoret to his wife and son, "why don't you bow to my uncle?"
"I shouldn't be mistress of myself before that little hypocrite," cried Zelie, carrying off her son.
"I advise you, uncle, not to go to mass without a velvet cap," said Madame Massin; "the church is very damp."
"Pooh, niece," said the doctor, looking round on the assembly, "the sooner I'm put to bed the sooner you'll flourish."
He walked on quickly, drawing Ursula with him, and seemed in such a hurry that the others dropped behind.
"Why do you say such harsh things to them? it isn't right," said Ursula, shaking his arm in a coaxing way.
"I shall always hate hypocrites, as much after as before I became religious. I have done good to them all, and I asked no gratitude; but not one of my relatives sent you a flower on your birthday, which they know is the only day I celebrate."
At some distance behind the doctor and Ursula came Madame de Portenduere, dragging herself along as if overcome with trouble. She belonged to the class of old women whose dress recalls the style of the last century. They wear puce-colored gowns with flat sleeves, the cut of which can be seen in the portraits of Madame Lebrun; they all have black lace mantles and bonnets of a shape gone by, in keeping with their slow and dignified deportment; one might almost fancy that they still wore paniers under their
"He has given her a new watch!" said Madame Cremiere, pinching her husband's arm.
"Heavens! is that Ursula?" cried Desire; "I didn't recognize her."
"Well, my dear uncle," said the post master, addressing the doctor and pointing to the whole population drawn up in parallel hedges to let the doctor pass, "everybody wants to see you."
"Was it the Abbe Chaperon or Mademoiselle Ursula who converted you, uncle," said Massin, bowing to the doctor and his protegee, with Jesuitical humility.
"Ursula," replied the doctor, laconically, continuing to walk on as if annoyed.
The night before, as the old man finished his game of whist with Ursula, the Nemours doctor, and Bongrand, he remarked, "I intend to go to church to-morrow."
"Then," said Bongrand, "your heirs won't get another night's rest."
The speech was superfluous, however, for a single glance sufficed the sagacious and clear-sighted doctor to read the minds of his heirs by the expression of their faces. Zelie's irruption into the church, her glance, which the doctor intercepted, this meeting of all the expectant ones in the public square, and the expression in their eyes as they turned them on Ursula, all proved to him their hatred, now freshly awakened, and their sordid fears.
"It is a feather in your cap, Mademoiselle," said Madame Cremiere, putting in her word with a humble bow,—"a miracle which will not cost you much."
"It is God's doing, madame," replied Ursula.
"God!" exclaimed Minoret-Levrault; "my father-in-law used to say he served to blanket many horses."
"Your father-in-law had the mind of a jockey," said the doctor severely.
"Come," said Minoret to his wife and son, "why don't you bow to my uncle?"
"I shouldn't be mistress of myself before that little hypocrite," cried Zelie, carrying off her son.
"I advise you, uncle, not to go to mass without a velvet cap," said Madame Massin; "the church is very damp."
"Pooh, niece," said the doctor, looking round on the assembly, "the sooner I'm put to bed the sooner you'll flourish."
He walked on quickly, drawing Ursula with him, and seemed in such a hurry that the others dropped behind.
"Why do you say such harsh things to them? it isn't right," said Ursula, shaking his arm in a coaxing way.
"I shall always hate hypocrites, as much after as before I became religious. I have done good to them all, and I asked no gratitude; but not one of my relatives sent you a flower on your birthday, which they know is the only day I celebrate."
At some distance behind the doctor and Ursula came Madame de Portenduere, dragging herself along as if overcome with trouble. She belonged to the class of old women whose dress recalls the style of the last century. They wear puce-colored gowns with flat sleeves, the cut of which can be seen in the portraits of Madame Lebrun; they all have black lace mantles and bonnets of a shape gone by, in keeping with their slow and dignified deportment; one might almost fancy that they still wore paniers under their
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