What Flowers Say. George Sand

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СКАЧАТЬ as if he needed to hide. He never spoke at the table, and in the evening, while waiting to supervise the children’s bedtime, he would walk in circles around the terrace in the garden, which was harmless but appeared to be an indication of a shallow mentality, given to foolish idleness. Miss Barbara didn’t think of him that way. She was terrified of Mr. Bat, first of all because of his name. She claimed that when a person had the misfortune to have such a name, he should leave the country and take another name. She had all sorts of prejudices against him. She held it against him that he had a good appetite, and she thought he was gluttonous and cruel. She contended that his strange circular walks were an indication of the most harmful inclinations and concealed the most sinister intentions.

      Therefore, when she saw him on the terrace, she shuddered. Elsie, who was clinging to Miss Barbara’s arm, felt it tremble. What was so astonishing about the fact that Mr. Bat, who loved the fresh air, was outside until his pupils’ bedtime? They went to bed later than Elsie, the youngest of the three. Miss Barbara was nonetheless shocked by this behavior, and walking past him, she couldn’t keep from saying dryly, “Do you plan to stay out here all night?”

      Mr. Bat started to run away, but, afraid of being impolite, he tried to answer with a question.

      “Does my presence bother anyone, and do they want me to go back in?”

      “I have no orders to give you,” continued Miss Barbara sharply, “but I’m inclined to believe you’d be better off in the parlor with the family.”

      “I’m uncomfortable in the parlor,” the tutor answered modestly. “My poor eyes suffer terribly from the heat and the bright light of the lamps.”

      “Oh! Your eyes can’t stand the light? I knew it! Twilight is the most light your eyes need? Would you like to be able to fly in circles all night long?”

      “Of course!” answered the tutor, trying to laugh and be pleasant. “I’m ‘batty,’ aren’t I?”

      “It’s nothing to brag about!” cried Miss Barbara, trembling with anger.

      And she dragged Elsie, dumbfounded, into the dark shadows of the little pathway.

      “His eyes, his poor eyes!” repeated Miss Barbara, with a convulsive shrug of her shoulders. “I can’t feel sorry for you, you savage beast!”

      “You’re very hard on that poor man,” said Elsie. “His eyes really are so sensitive that he can no longer see in the light.”

      “No doubt, no doubt! But how he makes up for it in the darkness! He’s hemeralopic, and what’s more, he’s presbyopic.”

      Elsie didn’t understand these epithets, which she supposed were degrading, and didn’t dare ask for an explanation. She was still in the shadowy pathway, which she didn’t like one bit, but she finally saw the tree-covered walk open in front of her. The summerhouse was appearing beyond it, whitened by the light of the rising moon, when suddenly she drew back, forcing Miss Barbara to draw back too.

      “What is it?” asked the lady with the big eyes, who saw nothing at all.

      “It’s . . . it’s nothing,” answered Elsie, embarrassed. “I saw the dark form of a man in front of us, and now I can make out Mr. Bat crossing by the door to your summerhouse. He’s walking in your flower border.”

      “Ah!” cried Miss Barbara indignantly. “I should have expected it. He follows me, he spies on me, he’s trying to ruin my life. But don’t be afraid, dear Elsie, I’ll give him what he deserves.”

      Miss Barbara rushed forward.

      “Aha! Sir,” she said, talking to a large tree against which the moon cast strange shadows. “When will you stop pestering me with your harassments?”

      She was going to scold him properly, when Elsie interrupted her and led her toward the door to the summerhouse, saying, “Dear Miss Barbara, you’re mistaken. You think you’re talking to Mr. Bat but you’re talking to your shadow. Mr. Bat is already gone. I don’t see him anymore and I don’t think he was trying to follow us.”

      “Frankly, I don’t agree with you,” answered the governess. “How can you explain the fact that he arrived ahead of us, since we left him behind, and we neither saw nor heard him pass by us?”

      “He could have walked through the flower beds,” answered Elsie. “It’s the shortest way and it’s the way I often go when the gardener isn’t looking.”

      “No, no!” said Miss Barbara distressfully, “he went over the trees. Look, you can see far, look over your head! I bet he’s lurking in front of my windows!”

      Elsie looked and saw only the sky, but, after a minute, she saw the moving shadow of a huge bat pass back and forth on the cottage walls. She didn’t want to say anything to Miss Barbara, whose obsessions were making Elsie impatient because they were keeping her from satisfying her curiosity. Elsie urged her to go into the summerhouse, saying that there were neither bats nor tutors spying on them.

      “Besides,” she added, entering the little parlor on the first floor, “if you’re worried, we could close the windows and curtains very tightly.”

      “Now that is impossible!” answered Miss Barbara. “I’m giving a ball and my guests must come through the window.”

      “A ball!” cried Elsie, dumbfounded. “A ball in this little cottage? Guests who enter through the window? You’re making fun of me, Miss Barbara.”

      “It’s a ball, I say. A grand ball,” answered Miss Barbara, lighting a lamp, which she placed on the windowsill. “Magnificent costumes, unbelievable luxury!”

      “If that’s true,” said Elsie, shaken by her governess’s confidence, “I can’t stay here in this old dress I have on. You should have warned me. I would have put on my pink dress and my pearl necklace.”

      “Oh! My dear girl,” answered Miss Barbara, placing a basket of flowers next to the lamp. “It would do you no good to cover yourself in gold and jewels—you could never compare with my guests.”

      Elsie, a little mortified, said nothing. Miss Barbara put some water and honey in a saucer and said, “I’m preparing the refreshments.”

      Then, suddenly, she cried out, “Here’s one now! It’s the princess moth, the Nepticula marinicollella, in her black velvet tunic crossed with a large band of gold. Her dress is of black lace with a long fringe. Let’s present her with an elm leaf; it’s the palace of her ancestors where she was born. Wait! Give me that leaf from the apple tree for her first cousin, the beautiful Malella, whose black dress has silver stripes and a skirt fringed in pearly white. Give me some flowering broom, to brighten the eyes of my dear Cemiostoma spartifoliella, who is approaching in her white gown with black and gold accents. Here are some roses for you, Marquise Nepticula centifoliella. Just look, dear Elsie! Look at this dark red tunic, trimmed in silver. And these two illustrious blue moth Lavernides: lineela, who is wearing an orange scarf embroidered in gold over her dress, while schranckella has an orange scarf striped with silver. What taste, what harmony in these gaudy colors, softened by the velvety fabrics, the transparency of the silky fringes, and the delightful patterns! The Adelida panzerella is wrapped in gold, embroidered with black; her skirt is in lilac with gold fringe. Finally, here’s the pyralid moth rosella, one of the most simply dressed, who has an overdress of bright pink tinted with white СКАЧАТЬ