It immediately occurred to me that I would impart my discovery to my sister Susan, who was some years older than myself. She was a pretty little fair complexioned girl, with one of those open countenances that you might be ready to think silly because they appear indolent. Her eyes were beautifully blue, full of a melting softness, and seemed to look at you without meaning it. They produced quite as much effect on one as the bright eyes of a brunette with their piercing glance. How was that? I don't know; for I have always been satisfied with feeling it to be so, without investigating the cause. May it not be that the delicate fair one with her languishing looks, seems to entreat you to give her your heart, and that the brunette threatens to take it by storm? The one only asks your compassion in this seductive manner, and in granting that you give her your love: the other, on the contrary, wishes to make you yield without promising a return, and at this your heart rebels; is it not so? What do you think, reader?
I am ashamed to say that it had never yet come into my head to cast a lascivious eye on Susan; rather an extraordinary thing for me who lusted after all the girls I saw. It is true that as she was the goddaughter of the lady of the village, who was greatly attached to her and brought her up, I had few opportunities of seeing her.
She had, indeed, been a year at a convent, and had only left it about a week before this epoch; and her godmother, who was coming to spend some time in the country, had promised her a visit to Ambrose. I suddenly became anxious to initiate my dear sister, and to partake with her the same pleasures that I had just seen enjoyed by Farther Polycarp and Annette. With respect to her, I was no longer the same person. I now saw in her a thousand charms that had hitherto escaped me. Her breasts, white as lilies, were firm and globe-like. In imagination, I already sucked the two little strawberries that I saw at the extremity of her bubbles: but, above all, in my picture of her charms I did not omit that centre, that abyss of pleasures of which I made myself such ravishing images. Excited by the burning ardor which these ideas diffused throughout my body, I went to seek Susan. The sun had just set, and it was getting dusk; I flattered myself that under the favor of the darkness, I should soon be at the very pinnacle of my wishes, if I could find her. I saw her at a distance, gathering flowers. Little did she think that I meditated gathering the choicest flower of her nosegay. I flew towards her, but seeing her so entirely occupied in such an innocent manner, I hesitated a moment whether or not I should communicate my design to her. As I approached her I felt my eagerness abate; and a sudden shiver seemed to reproach me with my intention. I thought it was my duty to respect her innocence, but was deterred from my attempt only by the uncertainty of success. I accosted her, but in such an agitation that I could not utter two words without taking breath.
“What are you doing there, Susan?” said I; and as I offered to embrace her, she ran away, laughing and saying: “What! do you not see I am gathering flowers? Yes, indeed, don't you know that tomorrow is the birthday of my godmother?”
At this name I trembled, as if in fear that Susan might escape me. My heart had (if I may so say) already accustomed itself to look on her as a sure conquest; and the idea of her going further away seemed to menace me with the loss of a pleasure that I regarded as certain, although I had no experience in those affairs.
“I shall never see you again, Susan,” said I to her with a sorrowful air.
“Why not,” answered she; “shall I not still come here? But,” she continued with a charming expression of countenance, “help me make my nosegay.”
I only answered her by throwing some flowers in her face, which she immediately returned in like manner.
“Hold, Susan,” said I, “if you throw any more, I'll… you shall pay for it.”-To show that she cared nothing for my threats, she threw a handful at me. In a moment my timidity left me; I was no more afraid of being seen.
My impudence was favored by the darkness, which prevented anything being visible at a distance. I threw myself upon her and she pushed me away. I embraced her and she cuffed me; I laid her down on the grass, and when she tried to rise I hindered her. I held her closely pressed in my arms, kissing her bosom, while she kept struggling to release herself. I put my hand up under her clothes, but she cried out like a little devil, and so well defended herself that I despaired of success, and was afraid somebody would come to us. I got up laughing, and I did not think that she had more mischief in her than myself. How much was I deceived!
“Come, then, Susan,” said I, “to show that I intended no harm I will indeed help you.”
“Yes, yes,” she replied, as much agitated as I was; “come, see yonder is mother coming, and I…”
“Oh Susan,” said I hastily, to prevent her saying more, “do not tell her anything; and I will give you… anything, whatever you like.” I pledged my word with another kiss at which she laughed. Annette came up to us. I was afraid Susan would tell her; but she did not say a word, and we all went home together to supper as if nothing had happened.
Since Father Polycarp had been at the house, he had given fresh proofs of the kindness of the convent for the supposed son of Ambrose, in the shape of a complete suit of new clothes.
In truth, in that matter, his Reverence had less consulted monarchal charity, which is rather limited, than paternal affection, which is much more liberal, and sometimes unbounded. The good Father by such prodigality exposed the legitimacy of my birth to violent suspicions; but our rustics were a good sort of people, and looked no further into things than one would wish.
Besides, who could have the audacity to scrutinize with an evil eye the motives of the reverend Fathers' generosity? They were such respectable persons, such worthy characters, who did good to all men and revered the honor of prudent women, that everybody was content. But I return to my own person, for I am about to enter on a glorious adventure.
Apropos of that said person, I had rather a conceited air, but not to a degree to prejudice any one against me. I was well dressed, my eyes had a wicked look; and my long black hair, which fell in curls on my shoulders, set off to advantage the blooming color of my face, which, though not exactly fair, could not be found fault with. This is a most authentic testimony that I am obliged to bear to the judgment of several very respectable and virtuous dames to whom I have paid my homage.
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
