Flowers, Swords and France

"Charles, thank you."

After getting off the carriage, Matilda thanked Charles for the third time tonight.

"No, it's just a small favor." Charles just smiled and extended his hand gracefully.

Matilda also laughed and took the hand.

Matilda's current dress seemed to have returned to the old style. She wore tortoise-shell glasses on her face, without makeup, and wore a gray dress, just like the dress she wore when she first visited her home.

This dress was so solemn and serious that Charles even thought she was going on a pilgrimage, so he canceled Matilda's visit at that time.

However, he no longer had the luxury of making fun of Matilda.

He looked up and looked forward, looking at the mansion outside the Bois de Boulogne, and suddenly felt both familiar and strange.

Yes, he had been here many times, but he had said goodbye for a long time, just as he had said goodbye to his literary path.

He didn't regret it - he finally traveled through time, but his life's achievement was to copy some other people's works and ideas and publish them under his own name. Isn't that stupid? However, not regretting is one thing, and whether he feels emotional is another.

"Charles?" Matilda, who was standing next to him, saw Charles standing there, so she pulled his hand in confusion. "What's wrong?"

"Oh, nothing..." Charles came back to his senses, then smiled again, throwing away those meaningless thoughts just now. "I just suddenly remembered something. Okay, don't worry about it, let's go..."

"Yeah. Let's go." Matilda didn't pursue it anymore, leaned against Charles, and followed him up the stairs.

Although she looked calm on the surface, Charles, who was close to her, could clearly feel that Matilda was a little nervous, and even her steps were a little unsteady. Charles even felt that she was not so nervous when he pushed her onto the bed that night.

What is this girl thinking about? Although they have been dating secretly for so long. But Charles still felt a little confused sometimes.

Well, there was no need to understand her completely, otherwise what was the point? Charles thought.

"Mr. Treville! You are finally here!" When the two of them walked to the door, Miss de Perriette was already on the steps to greet them. However, when she saw that Charles was walking over with a girl arm in arm, her smile could not help but hesitate a little.

Because she had already known that Charles was going to marry Charlotte. So when she saw Charles and Matilda coming over so swaggeringly, even the usually calm Miss Blue Stockings couldn't help but be surprised at Charles' low moral value.

"Is this okay?" She looked at Charles as if asking.

Charles raised his eyebrows to show that he didn't care. "Anyway, I came here under an alias, and no one knows."

His answer. The lady couldn't help but laugh, and then blinked. "You are so brave!"

The two exchanged glances, of course Matilda could not feel it, she just pulled her hand back from Charles's hand, then bowed slightly and saluted the other party.

"Ms. de Perriette, I have long heard of your name, but I have never met you. I am honored to visit you today!"

Matilda's expression was serious and sincere, as if she regarded this Miss Blue Stockings, who was well-known in the literary and publishing circles, as her idol.

Matilda's sincere greetings made Blue Stockings smile even more happily, and it seemed that her eyebrows were playing.

"Miss, don't be so restrained, I'm just an ordinary person. Although my house is simple, I hope you can have fun." She replied with a smile. "At the same time, I hope you don't keep your eyes on this gentleman. After all, our salon hopes that everyone will participate in the chat..."

Ms. Perriette did not ask Matilda's name. Because she knew that even if she asked, she would only get a pseudonym. Matilda's face suddenly turned red after being teased by her.

"Well, I just came to see your salon. I've heard that your salon often discusses literary topics." Then, she no longer dared to say anything to Miss Perriette, and secretly pulled Charles, urging him to go in quickly.

Charles nodded to Miss Perriette, and then took Matilda into the mansion.

"It's amazing, Mr. Treville, always so popular with women..." When Charles passed by her, she whispered in Charles' ear.

Charles did not answer, but shrugged lightly and walked in directly.

As Charles expected, many guests had come to the living room of the mansion. However, perhaps because Blue Stockings deliberately wanted to find some young people tonight, Charles did not find anyone he knew among them. But it was good that way, he also saved the trouble of saying hello.

Because the host had not come in yet, the guests were in their own small circle, either sitting on the sofa or standing by the unlit fireplace to chat.

After observing the situation, Charles prepared to take Matilda to find a place to sit for a while.

Suddenly, he felt as if someone was looking at him, and he subconsciously looked in that direction.

Then, he and the other person looked at each other.

This is a beauty with bright blond hair. Her facial features are very regular. She seems to have some powder on her face, so she looks abnormally pale, but she is not wearing heavy makeup. She didn't look young, about thirty years old. She was wearing a loose white gauze skirt and a white gauze scarf around her neck. She looked like a rich lady going out for an outing.

She sat on a sofa alone, with a very indifferent expression. It seemed that this was the reason for her indifference. No one was chatting with her, she just sat alone. After the two people looked at each other for a moment, the blond woman looked away without showing any expression.

A strange feeling suddenly arose in Charles's heart.

This feeling is not because there is a beauty across from me. It was because he suddenly felt as if there was something familiar about the other party.

However, when he thought about it carefully, he had no memory related to this woman.

After thinking for a moment, Charles, who had no clue, had to put this aside and took Matilda to find a sofa in the corner and sit down.

Just then. With a burst of noise from the guests, the owner of the mansion, Miss Caterina de Perriette, walked in and officially announced the start of the salon tonight.

As usual, the lady in blue stockings wearing a skirt and holding a fan sat in the center, chatting with the guests sitting around her, while the servants kept bringing cold drinks and snacks to the guests.

Young people attend in order to gain the admiration of others and the favor of their hosts. He kept talking, occasionally interspersed with a few wisecracks, so the salon was full of laughter, but Charles suddenly found a trace of past memories.

Because this salon usually discusses literary topics, I don’t know who started it. Everyone discussed the country on the other side of the strait. The guests each expressed their own opinions on the literature of the British Isles, either praising or criticizing it, and the atmosphere of the discussion suddenly became lively.

"The British are indifferent and lack enthusiasm, and the most important thing about literature is passion. Without the burst of passion, there will be no literature. I dare say that the island people, who are naturally cold and arrogant, cannot have any literature worth mentioning. "A young man present commented. "Of course, we have to admit that even though it doesn't look like it, the British still have a bit of culture after all - but only a bit."

Read the original text in Liu#9@书/吧!

His comment caused a burst of echoing laughter. After all, the French have been mocking the British for their lack of culture for hundreds of years.

After hearing someone express disdain for British literature, Matilda finally couldn't help it. She also forgot her original composure and spoke out to participate in the debate.

"Sir, I think your conclusion is inappropriate." Matilda raised her head and looked at the other party, "Although it may not be as good as our country. But Britain is not the desert you described. Is it possible that Lord Byron, Are the works of Mr. Shelley and Mr. Wordsworth not good enough? After reading their works, I think they are talented..."

"Byron? I don't think his works are good, he is just a cynic; Shelley is good, but he can't compare with our De Florian. As for Wordsworth, hey, he is nothing!" The young man who was refuted seemed a little unhappy, so he answered in an impatient tone.

"Although Mr. de Florian is very good, there is no reason to belittle Lord Byron and Shelley, right? I think literature should have no national boundaries. Good is good, sir." Maybe it's because of interest. For the reason, Matilda became unusually stern, "Moreover, I think Mr. de Florian's talent in poetry cannot be compared with Shelley's, absolutely not."

[Jean-Pierre-Laris-de-Florian (jean-pierre-laris-de-florian, 1755-1794), Voltaire’s great-nephew, was very talented. He once translated "Don Quixote" and wrote a large number of novels, novellas, comedies and pastoral pastoral poems. He entered the French Academy at the age of thirty-seven.

He is considered to be the most important allegorical poet in the history of French literature after La Fontaine. During the Revolution, he was arrested because of his noble birth and died shortly after being released from prison. He was only thirty-nine years old. 】

"That's just your personal opinion." The other party replied, "Besides, they are all dead now. Our literary heritage has a long history, including Stendhal, Balzac, and Hugo, and there will be more shining ones in the future. stars, but what else can the British boast about for another three hundred years?"

"Shakespeare deserves to be remembered for another three hundred years." Matilda showed no sign of weakness. "What's more, the British are not without some outstanding writers. I think Mr. Dickens is very good."

Her words unexpectedly triggered a burst of approval. Apparently many others agreed with her.

In this era, Dickens had not yet written the later book "A Tale of Two Cities" that received rave reviews in France (because this book, which was published in 1859, was too divorced from the reality of France in the background) and damaged his own good reputation. The reputation of the writer who wrote "Oliver Twist" and "David Copperfield" is being appreciated by the French across the Channel.

"Even if you protect this little nation in every possible way, you can't change the fact that it is just a cultural desert." Seeing that the wind was not going in their favor, someone made an unfriendly sarcastic comment, "The British are just a hodgepodge, and they are not worth mentioning. The culture of mention.”

[Dian Xiao Erzuo was a scornful term used by some people on the European continent for the British at that time, describing them as stingy, selfish, cold and snobbish. 】

Just when Matilda was still about to say something, a voice suddenly came from the corner.

"This nation of shopkeepers has defeated all enemies in front of them for hundreds of years, even our country. If we mock them, wouldn't we be doubly mocking ourselves? Sir, you seem to be dissatisfied with the current situation. It's a bit too clear-sighted. Denying other people's merits out of boredom is not patriotism, it's pure stupidity, sir."

This voice was low and arrogant, and it immediately attracted the attention of almost everyone. Charles also moved his gaze and found that the woman who spoke was the woman who had caught his attention just now.

"You are right, mademoiselle." The young man opened his eyes wide and was about to argue. Miss de Perriette suddenly clapped her hands with her fan and made a crisp sound. Suddenly the buzzing ended. "Mr. Dickens is really good. I have read some of his works and I think they are very good. I have also found someone in the UK and want to buy the publishing rights of his works in France from him..."

After Miss de Perriette said this, the original argument slowly turned in favor of Matilda - after all, who called this lady a big patron?

However, in normal debates, this lady would not intervene so early. She would just watch people argue quietly. Only Charles knew why she behaved like this today - obviously, she was a little dissatisfied that some people were so unfaithful to Britain, so she expressed her judgment early.

Under the forcible decision of the host here, the winner of this debate was determined early. The originally enthusiastic people suddenly relaxed, so they started chatting with the people next to them in twos and threes, waiting for the next topic. of the outbreak.

Charles took this opportunity and asked the servant to send a note to Blue Stockings.

"Who was the woman who spoke just now?"

After a while, the servant returned a note.

"It was introduced by a friend. Her name is Miss Cecilia de Lautrec. It is said that she seems to have traveled in the UK. Others are unknown."

Yeah……