Flowers, Swords and France

De Lautrec?

When he saw this last name, Ciel couldn't help but frown.

Isn't this the surname of the young man I met at the War Department? That Viscount Constantine de Lautrec.

Is it a coincidence? Or is there really any connection? Ciel fell into deep thought.

If you think about it carefully, the two people are similar even in their habits. One likes to drink black tea, and the other claims to have returned from traveling in England. If you look at them together, they don't look like they are unrelated people.

Driven by this doubt, Charles couldn't help but cast his gaze at the lady again, but he couldn't see any clues from her calm face. He had no choice but to keep his doubts in his heart.

"Charle, can I go over and have a chat with her?" Suddenly, Matilda asked in Charles's ear.

Because she had just agreed with her statement, Matilda was also very fond of this lady, so she wanted to go over and chat with her.

"Of course, you can have fun tonight." Charles replied calmly. "Go ahead."

Matilda smiled and nodded to Charles, then stood up and walked towards where the lady was sitting, while Charles pretended to observe them casually. "Hello, madam." Because she was not sure whether the other party was married, Matilda changed her title to a more polite one.

"What's going on?" The other party's eyes slowly moved over. Looking at Matilda.

"It's nothing, I just came to say hello." The sight made her feel a little nervous, but she still forced a smile, "Thank you for your speech just now."

"It's nothing. This is just me saying some of my feelings. I don't mean to please you." The other party's face was still expressionless, as if she didn't have much interest in talking to Matilda. "You don't have to be particularly happy about this. , because if I don’t agree with your opinion, I will say it directly.”

It’s really a British habit. So cold and unapproachable! Matilda smiled bitterly inwardly.

"Of course it doesn't matter. Since it's a discussion, you should speak freely." She still smiled and replied, "You seem to be interested in British literature too?" "Oh, that's great!" Because they found a common topic. , Matilda felt a little inspired, "I think so too! In fact, I even think that in some aspects of literature, the British even surpass our country."

"oh?"

"Aside from Mr. Dickens, the most exciting thing about British literature now is that women can also write classic works that have been handed down for generations." Matilda sat next to this woman. "Yes, I'm talking about the Bronte sisters."

"Have you heard of them too?" The lady's originally cold and unapproachable face finally changed slightly. It seemed as if she was a little surprised by Matilda's extensive knowledge.

Because, after all, the Brontë sisters published their works one after another in 1847. With the speed of cultural communication in this era, it was already very fast for Matilda to know about their statements and works.

"Yes, of course. I like their works very much. I have read every one of them." Matilda was a little excited. He continued, "Anyone who has read their works can feel the aura and wisdom in their words, as well as the passion that touches people's hearts. I think except for Miss George Sand, I have no To see a French female writer who has the talent to compete with them. So in that respect, I think English literature has surpassed French literature today.”…

"What an enthusiastic explanation..." The lady smiled slightly, and then nodded slightly, apparently acknowledging Matilda's statement, "But it does make sense. They really deserve praise."

"Sure enough, you think so too!" Seeing that her opinion was recognized, Matilda was very happy and secretly happy that she did not come here in vain. "I think the reputation of the Bronte sisters can be spread for a long time. "

"That's right, but it's a pity that they probably can't see it themselves." The other party's smile faded again, "Geniuses don't always stay in this world for a long time. It's a pity."

"It is indeed a pity that he passed away at such a young age..." After hearing what the other party said, Matilda's expression darkened, "I hope Miss Charlotte can escape this unfortunate fate."

At this time, among the three Brontë sisters, Emily Brontë, who wrote "Wuthering Heights", had died of tuberculosis in 1848 at the age of 3; Sister Anne died the next year at the age of 9. That's why two people lament the premature death of genius here.

If nothing else happens, the eldest sister Charlotte, who wrote "Jane Eyre", will also die of pregnancy complications five years later in 2018, at the age of only 39 years old - of course, Matilda It cannot be known in advance.

"So, can you tell me which of their works is your favorite?" Matilda suddenly asked the other party after the oppressive silence lasted for a moment. "In other words, which one do you think is the best?"

"Me? I like every one of them, but when it comes to my favorite..." Matilda frowned slightly, "I really like "Jane Eyre" the most, right? After watching it, I think I feel very happy, and I really like the strong character of the heroine..."

"Sure enough, you are still young." The other party muttered in a low voice, curling the corner of his mouth slightly, as if he sneered in a mocking way.

"Huh? What do you mean?" Matilda looked at her with some confusion.

"I don't like "Jane Eyre"," the other party replied simply. "I think that although the writing in this book is fresh and beautiful, it is nothing more than that."

"Why do you think so?" Matilda was very surprised. "Aren't you moved by the love in it?"

"I'm really not very moved, miss." The other party nodded slightly, "I think the 'love' in it is just a kind of psychedelic mist at best."

"how?"

"Am I wrong? Isn't that what the plot is like? The author forcibly equipped the heroine with two rich men who loved her to the point of risking their lives. Then he pointed at her and said - you see, in fact, if there is no money , As long as there is love and an independent and self-respecting mind, how good a woman can live!" "This woman! Shi shrugged slightly, "Is there any more boring proof than this? She finally returned to the rich man. Back to the manor! She claimed it was for love, so what if the other person didn't have a manor? What if How can the prince and princess live happily together without a castle?

"But..." Matilda was a little confused by this sudden attack. She felt something was wrong, but she didn't know how to refute the other party. "This kind of speculation. Isn't it too much..."

"You are still young, so it is normal to disagree with my point of view." The other party glanced at Matilda again, but there was not much cancellation in his eyes. "What I want to say is that the respectable author deliberately used love To obscure the nature of society dominated by money, but the cover-up job is not very good - the heroine is obviously in love with a man from the upper class, but in the end, it is said that money is not the pivot of society. Isn't this excessive? ?”…

"But!" Matilda felt a little uncomfortable.

"I don't agree with her point of view, because I have never despised money so much." The other party still smiled. His tone was very calm, but with an unconcealable arrogance, "I know very well that it is money that gives me honor and leisure, so I will never insult money."

"Then can you deny love based on this? There is indeed love in the world." Matilda's attitude became a little stiff.

It's just that you haven't met my sister.

"I do not deny love. I believe that there is love without any impurities - although I have never seen it personally, Mademoiselle." Mademoiselle Cecilia de Lautrec smiled. Another nod to Matilda. "However, while relying on money and enjoying the leisure and convenience it brings, we shout that love is higher than money. What I deny is this dishonest attitude. From this aspect, "Wuthering Heights" and "Vanity Fair" It is much more honest and profound.

Read the original text in Liu#9@书/吧!

Of course, because everyone in the world prefers fairy tales to cold reality—even adults—so I think "Jane Eyre" should indeed be more popular than "Wuthering Heights"... But, Despite this, I still prefer Wuthering Heights. ah! Miss Emily Brontë is truly an unspeakable genius! I really admire her for being able to control such violent words! What a pity she left everyone so early! "

After saying this, she picked up the tea cup on the coffee table and took a leisurely sip of tea. "Miss, although I don't know your name, I am very happy to be able to chat with you about this issue. I hope my words will not make you feel bad. This is just my personal opinion. You don't need to take it to heart."

Matilda was silent, chewing the other person's words secretly, and then nodded quietly and said goodbye. "Thank you, your words will give me some inspiration."

Although she didn't quite agree with the other party's point of view, she really didn't think of how to refute him, so she had to leave first.

Maybe I can meet her when I come to the party next time... As expected, my visit today was not in vain. It seems that Miss de Periette's salon is as interesting as the rumors say, and you can really meet many insightful people. people.

………………

At this time, Charles had been secretly observing the interaction between the two people.

Although he didn't know what the two of them were talking about, that wasn't what he was paying attention to.

His focus is on the woman herself.

Her arrogant attitude as she looked around, the gauze scarf around her neck, and the way she subconsciously picked up the tea cup... were all observed by Charles, and he also remembered them. Slowly reunite.

In his mind, he slowly came to a terrible conclusion.

No way! He couldn't help but pick up the wine glass and drink it in one gulp to calm the horror in his heart.

………………

The night was already deep, Mademoiselle de Perriette's party had come to an end, and the guests began to prepare to say goodbye to their host.

The lady had not spoken to a few people since Matilda left. At this time, she left her seat directly and seemed to be preparing to go home.

She walked all the way through the living room, her expression still extremely indifferent, as if she didn't care about anything, and she didn't say hello to anyone. She walked straight to the door, as if she was leaving like a ghost.

As she passed by, Charles, who had been in the dark of the corridor, shouted inadvertently.

"Alex, wait, your things fell!"

"What!?"

The lady who called herself Cecilia turned her head subconsciously.

Then, his face suddenly turned pale.