All the people of the village assembled to see the little milkmaid married. The peasants said to one another:
“Now’s the time she’s going to play the fine lady! She’s marrying a swell! How high she’ll hold her head!”
But they were mistaken: Denise, after she became Madame Dalville, was as sweet and kindhearted as when she was a simple peasant girl herself.
As he escorted his young wife to their new home, Auguste cast a glance now and then at the comely women whom they happened to pass; but it was a matter of habit simply—Denise alone had his heart.
True to her promise, Denise did not desire to leave the village; and for a long while Auguste did not go awayfrom his wife. Later, however, he went occasionally to Paris. On one of his visits to the capital he learned that the vivacious Athalie had separated from her husband, because Mère Thomas made a second trip to Paris; and that Monsieur de la Thomassinière, having made some unfortunate speculations and allowed himself to be ruined by Monsieur de Cligneval, had been compelled to turn over all his property to his creditors, and had become a cab-driver—a trade in which he seemed much more in his proper place than when he was in a salon.
The Marquis de Cligneval, having ventured to indulge in divers sharper’s tricks at écarté, which were not to the liking of his adversary, was forced to fight a duel with him, and was killed. As for Destival, when he tried to do business in England on the same plan as in Paris, one of his clients, whose money he had appropriated, struck him a blow from which he did not recover.
It was Monsieur Monin who supplied Auguste with all this news, after asking him how his health was; having applied to his snuff-box, he rejoined Bichette, whom he had left with Monsieur Bisbis in a clump of shrubbery at the Café Turc.
Auguste also saw Dorfeuil and his daughter; but he went very rarely to the young linen-draper’s, because she was very pretty. By way of compensation he often saw Virginie, who was no longer pretty, but who had reformed entirely, and whose warm heart caused her former follies to be forgotten.
When he had passed a short time at Paris, Auguste returned to Montfermeil, and it was with ever-renewed delight that he found himself once more in the company of his little milkmaid, of Bertrand, and of Coco, who, as he grew to manhood, often congratulated himself on having broken his bowl.