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ORIGINAL SHORT STORIES - VOLUME 7.
ORIGINAL SHORT STORIES - VOLUME 7. GUY DE MAUPASSANT VOLUME VII.
THE FALSE GEMS
FASCINATION
YVETTE SAMORIS
A VENDETTA
MY TWENTY-FIVE DAYS
"THE TERROR"
LEGEND OF MONT ST. MICHEL
A NEW YEAR'S GIFT
FRIEND PATIENCE
ABANDONED
THE MAISON TELLIER
DENNIS
MY WIFE
THE UNKNOWN
THE APPARITION
THE FALSE GEMS
Monsieur Lantin had met the young girl at a reception at the house of the
second head of his department and had fallen head over heels in love
with her.
She was the daughter of a provincial tax collector who had been dead
several years. She and her mother came to live in Paris where the
latter who made the acquaintance of some of the families in her
neighborhood hoped to find a husband for her daughter.
They had very moderate means and were honorable gentle and quiet.
The young girl was a perfect type of the virtuous woman in whose hands
every sensible young man dreams of one day intrusting his happiness.
Her simple beauty had the charm of angelic modesty and the imperceptible
smile which constantly hovered about the lips seemed to be the reflection
of a pure and lovely soul. Her praises resounded on every side. People
never tired of repeating: "Happy the man who wins her love! He could not
find a better wife."
Monsieur Lantin then chief clerk in the Department of the Interior
enjoyed a snug little salary of three thousand five hundred francs and
he proposed to this model young girl and was accepted.
He was unspeakably happy with her. She governed his household with such
clever economy that they seemed to live in luxury. She lavished the most
delicate attentions on her husband coaxed and fondled him; and so great
was her charm that six years after their marriage Monsieur Lantin
discovered that he loved his wife even more than during the first days of
their honeymoon.
He found fault with only two of her tastes: Her love for the theatre and
her taste for imitation jewelry. Her friends (the wives of some petty
officials) frequently procured for her a box at the theatre often for
the first representations of the new plays; and her husband was obliged
to accompany her whether he wished it or not to these entertainments
which bored him excessively after his day's work at the office.
After a time Monsieur Lantin begged his wife to request some lady of her
acquaintance to accompany her and to bring her home after the theatre.
She opposed this arrangement at first; but after much persuasion
finally consented to the infinite delight of her husband.
Now with her love for the theatre came also the desire for ornaments.
Her costumes remained as before simple in good taste and always
modest; but she soon began to adorn her ears with huge rhinestones which
glittered and sparkled like real diamonds. Around her neck she wore
strings of false pearls on her arms bracelets of imitation gold and
combs set with glass jewels.
Her husband frequently remonstrated with her saying:
"My dear as you cannot afford to buy real jewelry you ought to appear
adorned with your beauty and modesty alone which are the rarest
ornaments of your sex."
But she would smile sweetly and say:
"What can I do? I am so fond of jewelry. It is my only weakness. We
cannot change our nature."
Then she would wind the pearl necklace round her fingers make the facets
of the crystal gems sparkle and say:
"Look! are they not lovely? One would swear they were real."
Monsieur Lantin would then answer smilingly:
"You have bohemian tastes my dear."
Sometimes of an evening when they were enjoying a tete-a-tote by the
fireside she would place on the tea table the morocco leather box
containing the "trash" as Monsieur Lantin called it. She would examine
the false gems with a passionate attention as though they imparted some
deep and secret joy; and she often persisted in passing a necklace around
her husband's neck and laughing heartily would exclaim: "How droll you
look!" Then she would throw herself into his arms and kiss him
affectionately.
One evening in winter she had been to the opera and returned home
chilled through and through. The next morning she coughed and eight
days later she died of inflammation of the lungs.
Monsieur Lantin's despair was so great that his hair became white in one
month. He wept unceasingly; his heart was broken as he remembered her
smile her voice every charm of his dead wife.
Time did not assuage his grief. Often during office hours while his
colleagues were discussing the topics of the day his eyes would suddenly
fill with tears and he would give vent to his grief in heartrending
sobs. Everything in his wife's room remained as it was during her
lifetime; all her furniture even her clothing being left as it was on
the day of her death. Here he was wont to seclude himself daily and
think of her who had been his treasure-the joy of his existence.
But life soon became a struggle. His income which in the hands of his
wife covered all household expenses was now no longer sufficient for
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Unpublished Work 
