"Thank you, Charles."

After stepping out of the carriage, Matilda thanked Charles for the third time tonight.

"No, it's just a gesture." Charles just smiled, then graciously held out his hand.

Matilda laughed too, and then took the hand.

Now Matilda's dress seems to be back to the old style. She wore tortoiseshell-rimmed glasses on her face, no powder on her face, and a gray dress, just like when she first visited her home.

This dress was so solemn that Charles thought it was a pilgrimage, and Matilda was canceled at that time.

However, he has no room to make fun of Matilda now.

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

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

He didn't regret it -- wouldn't it be stupid to go back in time and end up copying some other people's works and ideas and then coming out in his own name.

However, it's one thing not to regret it, it's another thing to have feelings or not.

"Charles?" Matilda, who was next to her, saw Charles standing there, and took his hand in confusion. "What's wrong?"

"Oh, it's nothing......" Charles came back to his senses, then smiled again, and threw away all the meaningless thoughts he had just had. I just remembered something. All right. Don't worry about that, let's go......"

"Well, let's go." Matilda is no longer pursuing it. Leaned over Charles and followed him up the steps.

Although she was 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 didn't even feel so nervous that night when she was pushed into bed by herself.

What's going on in this girl's head? Although they have been secretly dating for so long, Charles still feels a little confused at times.

Well, there's no need to fully understand her, otherwise what's the point? Charles thought to himself.

"Mr. Treville! You're finally here! "When the two of them walked to the door. The Mademoiselle de Périette was already on the steps to meet them.

However, when she saw that He Charles was walking hand in hand with a girl, her smile couldn't help but be slightly sluggish.

Because he already knew that Charles was going to marry Charlotte. So when she saw Charles and Matilda swaggering together like this, even Miss Blue Stockings, who had always been calm, couldn't help but be taken aback by Charles's low temperament.

"Is that okay?" She looked at Charles as if she was asking.

Charles raised an eyebrow, indicating that he didn't care. "Anyway, I'm here under a pseudonym. Nobody knows. ”

His answer. The young lady couldn't help but laugh, and then blinked. "You're bold!"

Of course, Matilda didn't feel the tacit eye contact between the two people, she just withdrew her hand from Charles's hand, then bowed slightly and saluted the other party.

"Mademoiselle de Périette, I have long admired your name, but I have never had the opportunity to see it. It is a great honor for me to visit you today! ”

Matilda's expression was stern and sincere. seems to regard this well-known Miss Blue Stockings in the literary and publishing circles as his idol.

Matilda's sincere greeting 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. It's a humble place, but I hope you can have a good time. She replied with a smile, "At the same time, I hope you don't keep your eyes on this gentleman, after all, our salon wants everyone to participate in small talk......

Miss Perriette did not ask for Matilda's name, for she knew that if she did, she would only get a pseudonym. And when she made such a joke, Matilda's face suddenly turned a little red.

"Well, I'm here to see your salon, and I've heard that your salon often discusses literary topics." Then, she did not dare to say anything to Miss Perriette, and secretly pulled Charles and urged him to hurry in.

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

"That's amazing, Mr. Treville, ...... always so popular?" As Charles passed her, she whispered a teaser in Charles' ear.

Charles didn't answer, just shrugged his shoulders slightly, and walked straight inside.

As Charles expected, there were already many guests in the living room of the mansion. However, perhaps because Blue Stockings was deliberately trying to find some young people tonight, Charles didn't find anyone he knew in them. But that's fine, and he doesn't have to go to say hello.

Since the host had not yet come in, the guests sat in their own small circles, either sitting on the sand or standing by the fireplace without a fire.

After observing the situation, Charles was going to take Matilda to find a place to sit first.

Suddenly, he felt as if some eyes were watching him, and he quickly subconsciously looked in that direction.

Then, he looked at the other man.

This is a beautiful woman with bright gold hair, her facial features are very upright, and her face seems to be rubbed with some powder, so it looks a little unusually pale, but it is not a heavy makeup. She didn't look young, she was about thirty years old, wearing a loose white gauze skirt and a white scarf around her neck, looking like some rich lady who was out on an outing.

She sat alone on a piece of sand, her expression was very indifferent, and it seemed that it was the reason for this indifference, and no one talked to her, just sat alone. After the two looked at each other for a moment, the golden woman looked away. No expression was revealed.

A strange feeling suddenly rose in Charles's heart.

This feeling is not because there is a beauty on the other side, but because he suddenly feels as if the other party is somewhat familiar.

However. He pondered it, but he didn't have any memories of the woman.

After thinking for a moment, Charles, who had no clue, had no choice but to put this aside and take Matilda to find a piece of sand leaning against the corner and sit down.

At this moment, with a clamor of the guests, the owner of the mansion, Mademoiselle Caterina de Perriette, walked in and officially announced the beginning of the salon tonight.

Same as usual. Miss Blue Stockings, dressed in a skirt and holding a fan, sat in the center, chatting with the guests who sat around her, while the servants served them cold drinks and snacks.

The young people who attended in order to be appreciated by others and favored by their hosts. The vigorous talk, interspersed with a few witticisms, kept the salon laughing and laughing, but Charles suddenly found a trace of the past.

Because this salon is usually talking about literary topics. So I don't know who started it. The discussion went to the country across the strait. The guests expressed their own interpretations of the literature of the British Isles, either appreciating or praising or disapproving them, and for a moment the atmosphere of discussion suddenly became enthusiastic.

"The English are cold and lack enthusiasm, and the most important thing in literature is passion, and there can be no literature without passion, and I dare say that the nature is indifferent and arrogant island peoples, and there can be no literature worth mentioning." A young man in the room commented. "Of course, we have to admit it. It doesn't look like it, but the British are still a bit of a cultural – but it's just a little bit. ”

His comment provoked a chorus of laughter, after all, the French have been mocking the British for being uneducated for hundreds of years.

When she heard that some people expressed disdain for English literature, Matilda finally couldn't help it, and she forgot her original composure and joined the argument herself.

"Sir, I don't think your assertion is appropriate." Matilda looked up at the other party, "Although it may not be as good as my country, but England is not the desert you described, are the works of Lord Byron, Mr. Shelley, and Mr. Wordsworth not good enough?" After reading their work, I think they are very talented......"

"Byron? I don't think his work is good, just a cynic; Shelley is good, but he can't compare to our De Florian, and as for Wordsworth, hey, he's nothing! The young man who had been refuted seemed a little upset, so he replied in an impatient tone.

"Monsieur de Florian is very good, but there is no reason to belittle Lord Byron and Shelley for this, right? I think literature should have no borders, and good is good, sir. Perhaps because of her interest, Matilda became unusually stern, "and, I don't think Monsieur de Florian's talent for poetry can be compared with Shelley's, absolutely not." ”

Jean-Pierre-Net (1755-1794), the grandnephew of Voltaire, was gifted. He translated Don Quixote and wrote a large number of novels, novellas, comedies and pastoral idylls, and entered the Académie de France at the age of thirty-seven.

He is considered the most important allegorical poet in the history of French literature after La Fontaine. During the Revolution, he was arrested for his aristocratic origins and died shortly after his release from prison at the age of thirty-nine. 】

"That's just your opinion." The other replied, "Besides, they're all dead now." Our literary heritage has a long history, there are Stendhal, Balzac, and Hugo, and there will be more shining stars in the future, but what else do the British have? Can we hold Shakespeare and boast for another 300 years? ”

"Shakespeare deserves to be remembered for another 300 years." Matilda did not show any weakness, "Besides, the English are not without excellent writers now, and I think Mr. Dickens is very good." ”

Her words unexpectedly caused a burst of approval. Apparently quite a few people agree with her.

At this time, Dickens had not yet tarnished his good reputation by writing the later critically acclaimed A Tale of Two Cities in France (because the man who published it in 1859 was too far removed from the realities of France in the context of the time), and the writer who wrote The Orphan of the Fog and David Copperfield was being admired by the French people across the Channel.

"Even if you do everything you can to maintain this shopkeeper and the second nation, you can't change the fact that it's just a cultural desert." Seeing that the wind was not in his favor, someone said a less friendly mockery, "The Britons are just a hodgepodge, and there is no culture worth mentioning." ”

[The two ethnic groups were the contemptuous names of some people in Europe at that time for the British, describing them as petty, selfish, indifferent and snobbish. 】

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

"This small two people have defeated an enemy in front of us for hundreds of years, and even defeated our own country—if we mock them, wouldn't it be a double mockery of ourselves? Sir, you seem to be a little too unaware of the status quo. To deny the merits of others because of boredom is not patriotism, it is pure stupidity, sir. ”

The voice was low and arrogant, and it immediately caught the attention of almost everyone. Charles looked away, revealing the woman who had caught his attention.

"You're right, miss." The young man's eyes widened and he was about to argue something, when Mademoiselle de Périette suddenly slapped her hand with a fan, and there was a crisp sound that abruptly put an end to the buzzing. "Monsieur Dickens is really good, I have read some of his works, and I feel very good, and I have even found someone in England who wants to buy the French rights to his works......"

After Mademoiselle de Périette said this, the original argument slowly shifted in Matilda's favour - after all, who called this young lady her great patron?

However, in the usual arguments, this young lady would not interject so early, and would only quietly watch people arguing. Today she said this, and only Charles knew the reason—apparently, some people were so dark that she was a little unhappy in her heart, and therefore made her stand early on in her judgment.

Under the forcible decision of the master here, the winner of this debate was divided early, and the people who were originally full of enthusiasm suddenly relaxed, so they talked with the people next to them again, waiting for the next topic to explode.

Charles took advantage of this opportunity to beckon the servant to send a note to Blue Stockings.

"Who was that woman just now?"

After a long time, the servant returned with a note.

"It was introduced by a friend, named Miss Cecilia de Lautrec, who seems to have travelled in England, but nothing else."

Is it...... (To be continued!)

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