OOM: September

[road_to_calvary]

It is a happy day, and it is a terrible day. The grandfather of Marius, Monsieur Gillenormand, asks for Cosette's hand for his grandson. Valjean bows. It is done.

He stands at the back of the room while the others exult, smiling yet grave - a vague smile to be sure, but a smile nonetheless. He says nothing, and goes unseen. That is, until later, when Monsieur Gillenormand remembers that all his money is in an annuity and becomes saddened by it - when he dies, the children will have nothing at all.

At this point, he steps forward.

"Mademoiselle Euphrasie Fauchelevent possesses six hundred thousand francs."

"What has Mademoiselle Euphrasie to do with the question?" inquired the startled grandfather.

"I am she," replied Cosette.

"Six hundred thousand francs?" resumed M. Gillenormand.

"Minus fourteen or fifteen thousand francs, possibly," said Jean Valjean.

And he laid on the table the package which Mademoiselle Gillenormand had mistaken for a book.

Jean Valjean himself opened the package; it was a bundle of bank-notes. They were turned over and counted. There were five hundred notes for a thousand francs each, and one hundred and sixty-eight of five hundred. In all, five hundred and eighty-four thousand francs.

"This is a fine book," said M. Gillenormand.



Valjean says nothing at all. He has kept a thousand francs for himself to live on, and so that he might continue to aid those who need it. He glances only once towards Cosette and Marius - they seem unaware of all that is happening around them, with eyes only for each other. Well, that is good. That is as it should be. Cosette deserves such adoration. 

 

 

Comments

[lark_in_flight]

Cosette's stare was as astonished as anyone else's. Six hundred thousand francs! Hers? She's never thought about money, she's never had to -- her father has always supplied her with any needs and any little desires, and never spoke a word to her of sums or origins, nor even of precisely what sort of business called him away occasionally -- any money she has, so far as she knows, is her father's. But this is a fortune! Even Cosette, who knows nothing of finances beyond what Toussaint has taught her of getting good prices at market, knows that.

She doesn't understand. She doesn't understand a thing.

But her father is displaying banknotes, and he and M. Gillenormand have put their heads together to count and consult, and she knows she has no place in that discussion. They will only nod their heads fondly at her and tell her not to worry about a thing.

Cosette buries her questions obediently in her heart, to excavate and examine later in quiet moments. Instead she clasps Marius's hands, raises them to her cheek, and murmurs to him only about her delight, which is just as genuine: "Oh! Then we need worry about nothing, my darling. You see, we will always be perfectly comfortable. You shall need for nothing, and neither shall I. You and I, married, in a little house, all the days of our lives. I am so happy!"

[road_to_calvary]

When it is counted - Marius's aunt cannot seem to stop exclaiming 'five hundred and eighty-four thousand francs!'- Valjean steps back. He will leave the money to be deposited at Gillenormand's bank, as he himself cannot do this. The rest of the visit passes with happiness all around, and he watching with that same vague smile on his face.

He has wondered whether Cosette would be curious about this revelation, of course. But she has never asked many questions, and he cannot answer them anyway. The money - it is simply a thing that needed to be done, and he cannot bank it for them himself; therefore, the grandfather must be made aware of it in order for arrangements to be made. And what better day to do it than on the day he gives permission for Cosette to leave him?

It will not be yet, he tells himself, watching the young couple gaze at each other. The boy is not well enough yet.

[lark_in_flight]

Cosette doesn't bring up any questions during the visit. Perhaps she doesn't even seem to be thinking about them.

As they begin the walk home, she's still only joy; she rests her head against her father's shoulder for a moment, and exclaims, "Oh! I am so happy, papa, I could burst." But later, with her hand tucked into the crook of her father's strong arm, she's quiet.

From overwhelming joy, and also from wondering.

[road_to_calvary]

She rests her head on his arm, and he smiles, and says nothing.

He says nothing for a long time, walking at a leisurely pace, just enjoying the slight weight of her hand on his arm. It is normal for him to be quiet, but Cosette - no, that is different. Especially after a visit with Marius. And on a day like today, with the engagement made official!

Eventually, he says calmly, 'is everything quite well, Cosette?'

[lark_in_flight]

Cosette's smile is as bright as anyone could ask for, and it appears immediately as her head turns to him, like a flower upturning to a sunbeam.

"Oh, yes, papa! Everything is wonderful."

It's only that she doesn't understand. She doesn't understand, but she's accustomed to that; it's only that she wonders to herself, all the same.

[road_to_calvary]

'You are quiet, that is all.'

Has he considered that the revelation of today would be a surprise to her? Yes, of course. But she is so enraptured by Marius, it did not seem important to warn her in advance. After all, finding oneself wealthy should be pleasant, he thinks. He has set the story he will tell in his mind, and can see no particular flaws with it.

[lark_in_flight]

Cosette turns her face back to the road before them, and is quiet again for a few steps.

"It's only that I don't quite understand."

He'll likely say that she needn't understand, she thinks, and she can't decide if she's piqued by it -- it's her own money, now, even if it will soon be Marius's just as much, even if her father will always have as much of it as he might ask -- or if she's too happy for that.

[road_to_calvary]

'What is there to understand, my child? You are rich.'

It is understanding enough, he hopes.

'You and your husband are free to do as you wish.'

[lark_in_flight]

"Yes, but--"

But how, and why, and why did she never know?

Well, because she never had to know, and so her father didn't say. He protects her always, and he speaks little, and he has so many secrets and so many silences.

She's not in the habit of questioning her father. She doesn't quite know how to ask. She tries to form the question, but every attempt seems childish, or seems as if it's crashing too far into terrain forbidden by the unspoken rules of their lives.

"I know you're rich, papa. You've always given me everything I could want. But, papa, I don't understand why I am."

[road_to_calvary]

'That is because the person who left you the money did not want their name to be known.'

There is no inflection on these words; no hint that he has knowledge of names he is concealing, or doing anything more than revealing a long-known fact at the appropriate time.

'It has always been yours, Cosette. Now you are to marry, it is right you should know about it. That is all.'

[lark_in_flight]

"Well," she says, uncertainly.

Who on earth could it be?

Should she ask her mother? Her mother in Milliways, mysterious and lovely and dead -- would it be right to ask, or would she only be silent like her father always is, or would it be cruel to ask her to speak of more than she wishes to volunteer? Cosette doesn't know enough of Fantine's life to know. But perhaps.

"Well, that was very kind of this mysterious person! I'm grateful -- truly I am. I hope my benefactor knows that." In heaven, if not on earth.

[road_to_calvary]

He walks a few more paces before attempting to reply to this, so it might not look to be confirmation of the 'benefactor's' death.

'I am sure this person wishes you to be happy, and enjoy your fortune,' he says eventually, in the same neutral tone.

'That is why it has been left to you, after all. Of course it will be Marius's also, but you and he are of such a mind, that surely will not hinder your use of it.'

They are young, and beautiful, and free - why should they not have all the trappings of wealth? Valjean knows there is little that gives his heart more pleasure than the thought of Cosette dressed in her finery, riding in her own carriage to her own box at the theatre, or opera, or ballet. Without him holding her back, there is no reason why she should not be fully part of society, as she deserves.

[lark_in_flight]

"Yes," says Cosette, turned to uncomplicated happiness again by the mention of Marius. "Oh! I am not in the least worried about that. He is like you, papa, he's grave often but he wants only for me to be happy. We shall have a little house, and you will always have a room in it too -- you will live with us, whenever you're not traveling for business, I insist on it, and Toussaint too -- and we shall be comfortable always. I know Marius had worried. He felt guilty, you see, he wanted to provide for me just as well as you always have. And now he need not worry a bit."

[road_to_calvary]

Valjean smiles when she does, and seemingly matches her joy. He studiously says nothing at all about their future living arrangements.

'He need not worry,' he echoes, and gently squeezes her small hand on his arm.

'And neither must you, my child. All will be arranged. You must concentrate on helping him become well, that is all.'

[lark_in_flight]

"I shall. You know that I shall."

She rests her head for an instant against his shoulder, and smiles down.

And if she wonders still -- well, either she'll learn the answer, or she won't, but there's no good in pestering her father further. She'll think more about it before she asks her mother.

After all, does it really matter? If her benefactor doesn't want to be known, it would be rude to inquire too closely. She and Marius will be married and happy, and that's the end of it.

[road_to_calvary]

And if Valjean knows his daughter well enough to know that she will ask no further questions, and he can comfortably let this lie - well, it is just one more thing to pray forgiveness for before he goes to sleep.

He lets the silence fall as they walk; she with her thoughts, and he with his.