In the Shadow of Young Girls in Flower Read Free

I suppose that my mother considered M. de Norpois a trifle
'out–of–date,' which was by no means a fault in her eyes, so far as
manners were concerned, but attracted her less in the region—not, in
this instance, of ideas, for those of M. de Norpois were extremely
modern—but of idiom. She felt, however, that she was paying a
delicate compliment to her husband when she spoke admiringly of the
diplomat who had shewn so remarkable a predilection for him. By
confirming in my father's mind the good opinion that he already had of
M. de Norpois, and so inducing him to form a good opinion of himself
also, she knew that she was carrying out that one of her wifely duties
which consisted in making life pleasant and comfortable for her
husband, just as when she saw to it that his dinner was perfectly
cooked and served in silence. And as she was incapable of deceiving my
father, she compelled herself to admire the old Ambassador, so as to
be able to praise him with sincerity. Incidentally she could
naturally, and did, appreciate his kindness, his somewhat antiquated
courtesy (so ceremonious that when, as he was walking along the
street, his tall figure rigidly erect, he caught sight of my mother
driving past, before raising his hat to her he would fling away the
cigar that he had just lighted); his conversation, so elaborately
circumspect, in which he referred as seldom as possible to himself and
always considered what might interest the person to whom he was
speaking; his promptness in answering a letter, which was so
astonishing that whenever my father, just after posting one himself to
M. de Norpois, saw his handwriting upon an envelope, his first thought
was always one of annoyance that their letters must, unfortunately,
have crossed in the post; which, one was led to suppose, bestowed upon
him the special and luxurious privilege of extraordinary deliveries
and collections at all hours of the day and night. My mother marvelled
at his being so punctilious although so busy, so friendly although so
much in demand, never realising that 'although,' with such people, is
invariably an unrecognised 'because,' and that (just as old men are
always wonderful for their age, and kings extraordinarily simple, and
country cousins astonishingly well–informed) it was the same system of
habits that enabled M. de Norpois to undertake so many duties and to
be so methodical in answering letters, to go everywhere and to be so
friendly when he came to us. Moreover she made the mistake which
everyone makes who is unduly modest; she rated everything that
concerned herself below, and consequently outside the range of, other
people's duties and engagements. The letter which it seemed to her so
meritorious in my father's friend to have written us promptly, since
in the course of the day he must have had ever so many letters to
write, she excepted from that great number of letters, of which
actually it was a unit; in the same way she did not consider that
dining with us was, for M. de Norpois, merely one of the innumerable
activities of his social life; she never guessed that the Ambassador
had trained himself, long ago, to look upon dining–out as one of his
diplomatic functions, and to display, at table, an inveterate charm
which it would have been too much to have expected him specially to
discard when he came to dine with us.
    The evening on which M. de Norpois first appeared at our table, in a
year when I still went to play in the Champs–Elysées, has remained
fixed in my memory because the afternoon of the same day was that upon
which I at last went to hear Berma, at a matinée , in Phèdre , and
also because in talking to M. de Norpois I realised suddenly, and
in a new and different way, how completely the feelings aroused in me
by all that concerned Gilberte Swann and her parents differed from any
that the same family could inspire in anyone else.
    It was no doubt the sight of the depression in which I was plunged by
the approach of the New Year