[The Hated Son by Honore de Balzac]@TWC D-Link book
The Hated Son

CHAPTER V
12/21

He threw off his felt hat, adorned with an old red plume, in order to rub his hand over his bald head.
Again he looked at his daughter, who, beneath the brown rafters of that leather-hung room, with its ebony furniture and portieres of silken damask, and its tall chimney-piece, the whole so softly lighted, was still his very own.

The poor father felt the tears in his eyes and hastened to wipe them.

A father who loves his daughter longs to keep her always a child; as for him who can without deep pain see her fall under the dominion of another man, he does not rise to worlds superior, he falls to lowest space.
"What ails you, my son ?" said his old mother, taking off her spectacles, and seeking the cause of his silence and of the change in his usually joyous manner.
The old physician signed to the old mother to look at his daughter, nodding his head with satisfaction as if to say, "How sweet she is!" What father would not have felt Beauvouloir's emotion on seeing the young girl as she stood there in the Norman dress of that period?
Gabrielle wore the corset pointed before and square behind, which the Italian masters give almost invariably to their saints and their madonnas.

This elegant corselet, made of sky-blue velvet, as dainty as that of a dragon-fly, enclosed the bust like a guimpe and compressed it, delicately modelling the outline as it seemed to flatten; it moulded the shoulders, the back, the waist, with the precision of a drawing made by an able draftsman, ending around the neck in an oblong curve, adorned at the edges with a slight embroidery in brown silks, leaving to view as much of the bare throat as was needed to show the beauty of her womanhood, but not enough to awaken desire.

A full brown skirt, continuing the lines already drawn by the velvet waist, fell to her feet in narrow flattened pleats.


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