He had already won his
Marshal's baton, and the King could do no more for him unless by
making him minister or a peer of France.
From 1818 till 1823, having no official occupation, Baron Hulot had
gone on active service to womankind. Madame Hulot dated her Hector's
first infidelities from the grand _finale_ of the Empire. Thus, for
twelve years the Baroness had filled the part in her household of
_prima donna assoluta_, without a rival. She still could boast of the
old-fashioned, inveterate affection which husbands feel for wives who
are resigned to be gentle and virtuous helpmates; she knew that if she
had a rival, that rival would not subsist for two hours under a word
of reproof from herself; but she shut her eyes, she stopped her ears,
she would know nothing of her husband's proceedings outside his home.
In short, she treated her Hector as a mother treats a spoilt child.
Three years before the conversation reported above, Hortense, at the
Theatre des Varietes, had recognized her father in a lower tier
stage-box with Jenny Cadine, and had exclaimed:
"There is papa!"
"You are mistaken, my darling; he is at the Marshal's," the Baroness
replied.
She too had seen Jenny Cadine; but instead of feeling a pang when she
saw how pretty she was, she said to herself, "That rascal Hector must
think himself very lucky.
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