Madame Claes recollected the curt tone in which the notary had spoken
to her that afternoon in the porch of the church, and she took note of
the change which her present reply had wrought in his demeanor; she
guessed its meaning and tried to read her daughter's mind by a
penetrating glance, seeking to discover if she thought of her cousin;
but the young girl's manner showed complete indifference.
After a few moments spent in general conversation on the current
topics of the day, the master of the house came down from his bedroom,
where his wife had heard with inexpressible delight the creaking sound
of his boots as he trod the floor. The step was that of a young and
active man, and foretold so complete a transformation, that the mere
expectation of his appearance made Madame Claes quiver as he descended
the stairs. Balthazar entered, dressed in the fashion of the period.
He wore highly polished top-boots, which allowed the upper part of the
white silk stockings to appear, blue kerseymere small-clothes with
gold buttons, a flowered white waistcoat, and a blue frock-coat. He
had trimmed his beard, combed and perfumed his hair, pared his nails,
and washed his hands, all with such care that he was scarcely
recognizable to those who had seen him lately. Instead of an old man
almost decrepit, his children, his wife, and the notary saw a
Balthazar Claes who was forty years old, and whose courteous and
affable presence was full of its former attractions.
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