The Shadow of Great Britain

Chapter 952: Chapter 39 Picky Miss_2

With the influence of Jusco, Arthur, who was just wandering alone in the banquet hall, immediately became the center of a small circle.

Before Arthur returned from Louis’s room, only a couple of kind gentlemen, who took pity on him, spoke with him.

As for his original friends, the Great Dumas, who had returned to Paris, was busy re-establishing his social status in the theater circle; Balzac was scheming to thwart Dumas’ aspirations, while Hugo played the peacemaker between them.

The naturally shy Chopin was surrounded heavily by groups of noblewomen. Of course, not all piano-loving ladies were drawn to him because Liszt’s burden was obviously heavier than Chopin’s.

There were also some shrewd gentlemen skilled in finance sneakily gathering around Liszt. If Heine were here, he would surely see through their tricks, as these gentlemen were most likely collecting Liszt’s leftover cigar ends, which could fetch a hundredfold price on the market.

As for Parisian Sleuth Victor, at this banquet, he was clearly in a relatively low position. The host invited him only to satisfy the curiosity of some prominent figures.

For example, British gentlemen led by Lord Dalhousie dragged him around with endless questions. They had mostly seen the play “Parisian Sleuth” performed in London a few years ago, and now that they finally met the real-life prototype of the story, they naturally wouldn’t let this opportunity slip by to satisfy their curiosity.

At social gatherings, newcomers never pay attention to the flow of the crowd. But for those meticulous people who live by socializing, every eye and ear of theirs is not in vain; what wine was served or what wind was blowing at the banquet, who held a higher or lower status, they could tell at a glance.

And for those who kept an eye on Arthur’s whereabouts, the phenomenon of this young stranger suddenly becoming a leader of a small circle was particularly noteworthy.

Miss Emily was being pulled into a corner by her father at this moment, as the gray-haired old banker Mr. DelaSalle painstakingly advised his distressed daughter.

“Emily, talking to you about this is not easy for me. Silly child! Listen, I wholeheartedly hope all my children can have a satisfactory life. But I am unwilling to continue damaging my personality to host banquet after banquet, only to watch one after another of those passionate young men be ridiculed away by you.

According to your opinion, people who are overweight have no emotions, are bad husbands, and do not deserve to enter civilized society. But you must know that in the East, ‘plump’ is also a standard of beauty. You cannot look at those plump women and say their figure is unfortunate, nor can you mock a ‘plump’ gentleman, saying it is a crime for him to be like that.

Although your absurd opinions are sometimes amusing due to their lighthearted expression, you must know that not everyone can accept your jokes. One day, the conditions you’ve set for people will inevitably become a subject of ridicule.

Don’t think I’m being alarmist. Your father walked through the Great Revolution period and has seen too much of this. Those people outwardly cater to you not because they genuinely find your words interesting but because you currently have more power than they do, so they won’t publicly contradict you. But as soon as they get a chance, they will ultimately retaliate against you!

This chance could be three or five years, or it could be eight or ten. Your strange opinions will only offend people. You don’t know how I tremble with fear every night when I close my eyes, knowing that this ruthless society has long started mocking me because you are already 22 years old and still unmarried.

Those you mocked, those women, are gossiping about me and your mother behind our backs. Those rejected protagonists, filled with discontent, are waiting for an opportunity to take revenge. You must know, for the past two or three years, I’ve had to host a banquet almost regularly, bringing Paris’s most outstanding youths before you.

Yet, you don’t fancy any of them and even mock them, pointing out their flaws to their faces. I hope today you can understand our difficult situation. My daughter, you’re 22! According to our plan, you should have been married three years ago. Your brothers and sisters are all married wealthy and happily. The wedding expenses, plus the costs of these social banquets over the years, have eaten up most of our income.

Emily, you are our darling, at home, everyone gives in to you; no one argues with you or fights over anything. But now, I must be frank and say that from today on, I at least need to consider your mother’s future. She shouldn’t continue sacrificing her interests for her children’s happiness.

If one day I’m gone, I don’t want your mother to rely on others. She should continue living comfortably — it’s my repayment for her past hardship with me. Therefore, you must know that your dowry is very meager. I can barely scrape together one hundred thousand francs for you, which does not match your high expectations.

Don’t cry or get red-eyed! Because you must understand, I’ve only made this sacrifice for you alone; none of your three brothers or two sisters have this, and your brothers-in-law and sisters-in-law have already generously agreed not to demand the same treatment as you, our most loved daughter.”

Mr. DelaSalle thought after hearing this, his daughter would finally quell her disposition. Unexpectedly, his daughter not only showed no gratitude but sarcastically said about her brothers-in-law and sisters-in-law: “Father, that’s their duty. Not one of them is noble; they’re either merchants’ daughters or bankers’ sons, while I am to marry into nobility.”

Mr. DelaSalle seemed accustomed to his daughter’s arrogant attitude. He was not angry, only sighed: “My dear Emily, you must be grateful to them. They love you greatly, and there’s no jealousy of your mother and me for favoring you. You are not young anymore; you should think like a mature girl. Alright, let’s talk seriously now; among the young men you’ve recently met, is there anyone you fancy?”

Emily lifted her long skirt, shaking her head: “No.”

DelaSalle racked his brains and suggested a young man he thought was good: “What do you think of Mr. Kurz?”

“A mediocre City Hall clerk with no insight, not an ounce of learning, and he acts as if becoming a director there is something remarkable. He boasted to me about his prowess, but in reality, his job is just stamping papers; even a dock worker could do it, whether he can read or write.”

Mr. DelaSalle, hearing this, urged: “But Mr. Kurz manages land trades. If he marries you, it would greatly facilitate not only my business but also those of your brothers-in-law…”

“Father, I’m looking for a husband, not a business partner for you. He’s not a nobleman, not even a descendant of nobility; five generations back, his ancestors were German fishermen.”

DelaSalle, sweating, said, “Alright, alright, then what about Mr. De Bolayno? His name has ‘De,’ which makes him a genuine noble descendant.”

“He’s a noble descendant, but not a noble himself, and besides, he’s ugly and fat. Plus, his hair is golden chestnut, and I don’t like such men.”

“What about…”