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diff --git a/15465-h/15465-h.htm b/15465-h/15465-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..68f695f --- /dev/null +++ b/15465-h/15465-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,6241 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> + +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml"> + <head> + <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=iso-8859-1" /> + <title> + The Project Gutenberg eBook of Parisian Points of View, by Ludovic Halévy. + </title> + <style type="text/css"> +/*<![CDATA[ XML blockout */ +<!-- + p { margin-top: .75em; + text-align: justify; + margin-bottom: .75em; + } + h1,h2,h3,h4,h5,h6 { + text-align: center; /* all headings centered */ + clear: both; + } + hr { width: 33%; + margin-top: 2em; + margin-bottom: 2em; + margin-left: auto; + margin-right: auto; + clear: both; + } + + table {margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;} + + body{margin-left: 10%; + margin-right: 10%; + } + + .linenum {position: absolute; top: auto; left: 4%;} /* poetry number */ + .blockquot{margin-left: 5%; margin-right: 10%;} + .pagenum {position: absolute; left: 92%; font-size: smaller; text-align: right;} /* page numbers */ + .sidenote {width: 20%; padding-bottom: .5em; padding-top: .5em; + padding-left: .5em; padding-right: .5em; margin-left: 1em; + float: right; clear: right; margin-top: 1em; + font-size: smaller; background: #eeeeee; border: dashed 1px;} + + .bb {border-bottom: solid 2px;} + .bl {border-left: solid 2px;} + .bt {border-top: solid 2px;} + .br {border-right: solid 2px;} + .bbox {border: solid 2px;} + + .center {text-align: center;} + .smcap {font-variant: small-caps;} + .u {text-decoration: underline;} + + .caption {font-weight: bold;} + + .figcenter {margin: auto; text-align: center;} + + .figleft {float: left; clear: left; margin-left: 0; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-top: + 1em; margin-right: 1em; padding: 0; text-align: center;} + + .figright {float: right; clear: right; margin-left: 1em; margin-bottom: 1em; + margin-top: 1em; margin-right: 0; padding: 0; text-align: center;} + + .footnotes {border: dashed 1px;} + .footnote {margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; font-size: 0.9em;} + .footnote .label {position: absolute; right: 84%; text-align: right;} + .fnanchor {vertical-align: super; font-size: .8em; text-decoration: none;} + + .poem {margin-left:10%; margin-right:10%; text-align: left;} + .poem br {display: none;} + .poem .stanza {margin: 1em 0em 1em 0em;} + .poem span {display: block; margin: 0; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} + .poem span.i2 {display: block; margin-left: 2em;} + .poem span.i4 {display: block; margin-left: 4em;} + // --> + /* XML end ]]>*/ + </style> + </head> +<body> + + +<pre> + +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Parisian Points of View, by Ludovic Halévy + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Parisian Points of View + +Author: Ludovic Halévy + +Commentator: Brander Matthews + +Translator: Edith V. B. Matthews + +Release Date: March 25, 2005 [EBook #15465] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK PARISIAN POINTS OF VIEW *** + + + + +Produced by Juliet Sutherland, Melissa Er-Raqabi and the +Online Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net. + + + + + + +</pre> + +<hr style="width: 95%;" /> + + + +<h4>MASTER-TALES</h4> + +<h1>PARISIAN</h1> +<h1>POINTS OF VIEW</h1> + +<h3>BY</h3> +<h2>LUDOVIC HALÉVY<br /><br /><br /><br /></h2> + + +<h4>TRANSLATED BY</h4> +<h3>EDITH V.B. MATTHEWS</h3> + +<h4>WITH INTRODUCTION BY</h4> +<h3>BRANDER MATTHEWS</h3> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p class="center">HARPER & BROTHERS PUBLISHERS<br /> +NEW YORK AND LONDON +<br /><br /><br /><br /></p> + + + + +<p class="center">Copyright, 1894, by HARPER & BROTHERS.</p> +<p class="center"><i>All rights reserved.</i> +</p> + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>CONTENTS</h2> + +<div class='center'> +<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary="Table of Contents"> +<tr><td align='left'><a href="#INTRODUCTION"><b>INTRODUCTION</b></a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><a href="#ONLY_A_WALTZ"><b>ONLY A WALTZ</b></a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><a href="#THE_DANCING_MASTER"><b>THE DANCING-MASTER</b></a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><a href="#THE_CIRCUS_CHARGER"><b>THE CIRCUS CHARGER</b></a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><a href="#BLACKY"><b>BLACKY</b></a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><a href="#THE_MOST_BEAUTIFUL_WOMAN_IN_PARIS"><b>THE MOST BEAUTIFUL WOMAN IN PARIS</b></a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><a href="#THE_STORY_OF_A_BALL_DRESS"><b>THE STORY OF A BALL-DRESS</b></a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><a href="#THE_INSURGENT"><b>THE INSURGENT</b></a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><a href="#THE_CHINESE_AMBASSADOR"><b>THE CHINESE AMBASSADOR</b></a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><a href="#IN_THE_EXPRESS"><b>IN THE EXPRESS</b></a></td></tr> +</table></div> + + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="INTRODUCTION" id="INTRODUCTION"></a>INTRODUCTION</h2> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>THE SHORT STORIES OF M. LUDOVIC HALÉVY</h2> + + +<p>To most American readers of fiction I fancy +that M. Ludovic Halévy is known chiefly, if not +solely, as the author of that most charming of modern +French novels, <i>The Abbé Constantin</i>. Some of +these readers may have disliked this or that novel +of M. Zola's because of its bad moral, and this or +that novel of M. Ohnet's because of its bad taste, +and all of them were delighted to discover in M. +Halévy's interesting and artistic work a story written +by a French gentleman for young ladies. Here +and there a scoffer might sneer at the tale of the +old French priest and the young women from Canada +as innocuous and saccharine; but the story of +the good Abbé Constantin and of his nephew, and +of the girl the nephew loved in spite of her American +millions—this story had the rare good fortune +of pleasing at once the broad public of indiscriminate +readers of fiction and the narrower circle of +real lovers of literature. Artificial the atmosphere +of the tale might be, but it was with an artifice at +once delicate and delicious; and the tale itself won +its way into the hearts of the women of America +as it had into the hearts of the women of France.</p> + +<p>There is even a legend—although how solid a +foundation it may have in fact I do not dare to discuss—there +is a legend that the lady-superior of a +certain convent near Paris was so fascinated by +<i>The Abbé Constantin</i>, and so thoroughly convinced +of the piety of its author, that she ordered all his +other works, receiving in due season the lively volumes +wherein are recorded the sayings and doings +of Monsieur and Madame Cardinal, and of the two +lovely daughters of Monsieur and Madame Cardinal. +To note that these very amusing studies of +certain aspects of life in a modern capital originally +appeared in that extraordinary journal, <i>La Vie +Parisienne</i>—now sadly degenerate—is enough to indicate +that they are not precisely what the good +lady-superior expected to receive. We may not +say that <i>La Famille Cardinal</i> is one of the books +every gentleman's library should be without; but +to appreciate its value requires a far different knowledge +of the world and of its wickedness than is +needed to understand <i>The Abbé Constantin</i>.</p> + +<p>Yet the picture of the good priest and the portraits +of the little Cardinals are the work of the +same hand, plainly enough. In both of these +books, as in <i>Criquette</i> (M. Halévy's only other +novel), as in <i>A Marriage for Love</i>, and the twoscore +other short stories he has written during the +past thirty years, there are the same artistic qualities, +the same sharpness of vision, the same gentle +irony, the same constructive skill, and the same +dramatic touch. It is to be remembered always +that the author of <i>L'Abbé Constantin</i> is also the +half-author of "Froufrou" and of "Tricoche et +Cacolet," as well as of the librettos of "La Belle +Hélène" and of "La Grande Duchesse de Gerolstein."</p> + +<p>In the two novels, as in the twoscore short stories +and sketches—the <i>contes</i> and the <i>nouvelles</i> which +are now spring-like idyls and now wintry episodes, +now sombre etchings and now gayly-colored pastels—in +all the works of the story-teller we see the +firm grasp of the dramatist. The characters speak +for themselves; each reveals himself with the swift +directness of the personages of a play. They are +not talked about and about, for all analysis has +been done by the playwright before he rings up the +curtain in the first paragraph. And the story unrolls +itself, also, as rapidly as does a comedy. The +movement is straightforward. There is the cleverness +and the ingenuity of the accomplished dramatist, +but the construction has the simplicity of the +highest skill. The arrangement of incidents is so +artistic that it seems inevitable; and no one is ever +moved to wonder whether or not the tale might +have been better told in different fashion.</p> + +<p>Nephew of the composer of "La Juive"—an +opera not now heard as often as it deserves, perhaps—and +son of a playwright no one of whose +productions now survives, M. Halévy grew up in +the theatre. At fourteen he was on the free-list of +the Opéra, the Opéra-Comique, and the Odéon. +After he left school and went into the civil service +his one wish was to write plays, and so to be able +to afford to resign his post. In the civil service +he had an inside view of French politics, which +gave him a distaste for the mere game of government +without in any way impairing the vigor of his +patriotism; as is proved by certain of the short +stones dealing with the war of 1870 and the revolt +of the Paris Communists. And while he did his +work faithfully, he had spare hours to give to literature. +He wrote plays and stories, and they were +rejected. The manager of the Odéon declared that +one early play of M. Halévy's was exactly suited +to the Gymnase, and the manager of the Gymnase +protested that it was exactly suited to the Odéon. +The editor of a daily journal said that one early +tale of M. Halévy's was too brief for a novel, and +the editor of a weekly paper said that it was too +long for a short story.</p> + +<p>In time, of course, his luck turned; he had plays +performed and stories published; and at last he +met M. Henri Meilhac, and entered on that collaboration +of nearly twenty years' duration to which +we owe "Froufrou" and "Tricoche et Cacolet," on +the one hand, and on the other the books of Offenbach's +most brilliant operas—"Barbebleue," for example, +and "La Périchole." When this collaboration +terminated, shortly before M. Halévy wrote +<i>The Abbé Constantin</i>, he gave up writing for the +stage. The training of the playwright he could +not give up, if he would, nor the intimacy with the +manners and customs of the people who live, move, +and have their being on the far side of the curtain.</p> + +<p>Obviously M. Halévy is fond of the actors and +the actresses with whom he spent the years of his +manhood. They appear again and again in his +tales; and in his treatment of them there is never +anything ungentlemanly as there was in M. Jean +Richepin's recent volume of theatrical sketches. +M. Halévy's liking for the men and women of the +stage is deep; and wide is his knowledge of their +changing moods. The young Criquette and the +old Karikari and the aged Dancing-master—he +knows them all thoroughly, and he likes them +heartily, and he sympathizes with them cordially. +Indeed, nowhere can one find more kindly portraits +of the kindly player-folk than in the writings +of this half-author of "Froufrou"; it is as though +the successful dramatist felt ever grateful towards +the partners of his toil, the companions of his +struggles. He is not blind to their manifold weaknesses, +nor is he the dupe of their easy emotionalism, +but he is tolerant of their failings, and towards +them, at least, his irony is never mordant.</p> + +<p>Irony is one of M. Halévy's chief characteristics, +perhaps the chiefest. It is gentle when he deals +with the people of the stage—far gentler then than +when he is dealing with the people of Society, with +fashionable folk, with the aristocracy of wealth. +When he is telling us of the young loves of millionaires +and of million-heiresses, his touch may seem +caressing, but for all its softness the velvet paw has +claws none the less. It is amusing to note how +often M. Halévy has chosen to tell the tale of love +among the very rich. The heroine of <i>The Abbé +Constantin</i> is immensely wealthy, as we all know, +and immensely wealthy are the heroines of <i>Princesse</i>, +of <i>A Grand Marriage,</i> and of <i>In the Express</i>.<a name="FNanchor_A_1" id="FNanchor_A_1"></a><a href="#Footnote_A_1" class="fnanchor">[A]</a> +Sometimes the heroes and the heroines +are not only immensely wealthy, they are also of +the loftiest birth; such, for instance, are the young +couple whose acquaintance we make in the pages +of <i>Only a Waltz</i>.</p> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_A_1" id="Footnote_A_1"></a><a href="#FNanchor_A_1"><span class="label">[A]</span></a> Perhaps the present writer will be forgiven if he wishes +to record here that <i>In the Express (Par le Rapide)</i> was +published in Paris only towards the end of 1892, while a tale +not wholly unlike it, <i>In the Vestibule Limited</i>, was published +in New York in the spring of 1891.</p></div> + +<p>There is no trace or taint of snobbery in M. +Halévy's treatment of all this magnificence; there +is none of the vulgarity which marks the pages of +<i>Lothair</i>, for example; there is no mean admiration +of mean things. There is, on the other hand, +no bitterness of scourging satire. He lets us see +that all this luxury is a little cloying and perhaps +not a little enervating. He suggests (although he +takes care never to say it) that perhaps wealth +and birth are not really the best the world can +offer. The amiable egotism of the hero of <i>In the +Express</i>, and the not unkindly selfishness of the +heroine of that most Parisian love-story, are set before +us without insistence, it is true, but with an +irony so keen that even he who runs as he reads +may not mistake the author's real opinion of the +characters he has evoked.</p> + +<p>To say this is to say that M. Halévy's irony is +delicate and playful. There is no harshness in his +manner and no hatred in his mind. We do not +find in his pages any of the pessimism which is +perhaps the dominant characteristic of the best +French fiction of our time. To M. Halévy, as to +every thinking man, life is serious, no doubt, but +it need not be taken sadly, or even solemnly. To +him life seems still enjoyable, as it must to most +of those who have a vivid sense of humor. He is +not disillusioned utterly, he is not reduced to the +blankness of despair as are so many of the disciples +of Flaubert, who are cast into the outer darkness, +and who hopelessly revolt against the doom +they have brought on themselves.</p> + +<p>Indeed, it is Merimée that M. Halévy would hail +as his master, and not Flaubert, whom most of +his fellow French writers of fiction follow blindly. +Now, while the author of <i>Salamnbo</i> was a romanticist +turned sour, the author of <i>Carmen</i> was +a sentimentalist sheathed in irony. To Gustave +Flaubert the world was hideously ugly, and he +wished it strangely and splendidly beautiful, and +he detested it the more because of his impossible +ideal. To Prosper Merimée the world was what +it is, to be taken and made the best of, every +man keeping himself carefully guarded. Like Merimée, +M. Halévy is detached, but he is not disenchanted. +His work is more joyous than Merimée's, +if not so vigorous and compact, and his delight +in it is less disguised. Even in the Cardinal +sketches there is nothing that leaves an acrid +after-taste, nothing corroding—as there is not seldom +in the stronger and sterner short stories of +Maupassant.</p> + +<p>More than Maupassant or Flaubert or Merimée, +is M. Halévy a Parisian. Whether or not the characters +of his tale are dwellers in the capital, whether +or not the scene of his story is laid in the city +by the Seine, the point of view is always Parisian. +The <i>Circus Charger</i> did his duty in the stately +avenues of a noble country-place, and <i>Blacky</i> performed +his task near a rustic water-fall; but the +men who record their intelligent actions are Parisians +of the strictest sect. Even in the patriotic +pieces called forth by the war of 1870, in the <i>Insurgent</i> +and in the <i>Chinese Ambassador</i>, it is the +siege of Paris and the struggle of the Communists +which seem to the author most important. His +style even, his swift and limpid prose—the prose +which somehow corresponds to the best <i>vers de société</i> +in its brilliancy and buoyancy—is the style of +one who lives at the centre of things. Cardinal +Newman once said that while Livy and Tacitus +and Terence and Seneca wrote Latin, Cicero wrote +Roman; so while M. Zola on the one side, and M. +Georges Ohnet on the other, may write French, M. +Halévy writes Parisian.</p> + +<p>BRANDER MATTHEWS.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="ONLY_A_WALTZ" id="ONLY_A_WALTZ"></a>ONLY A WALTZ</h2> + + +<p>"Aunt, dear aunt, don't believe a word of what +he is going to tell you. He is preparing to fib, to +fib outrageously. If I hadn't interrupted him at +the beginning of his talk, he would have told you +that he had made up his mind to marry me from +his and my earliest childhood."</p> + +<p>"Of course!" exclaimed Gontran.</p> + +<p>"Of course not," replied Marceline. "He was +going to tell you that he was a good little boy, +having always loved his little cousin, and that our +marriage was a delightful romance of tenderness +and sweetness."</p> + +<p>"Why, yes, of course," repeated Gontran.</p> + +<p>"Nonsense! The truth, Aunt Louise, the real +truth, in short, is this, never, never should we have +been married if on the 17th of May, 1890, between +nine and eleven o'clock, he had not lost 34,000 +points at bezique at the club, and if all the boxes +had not been sold, that same night, at the Bouffes-Parisiens +Theatre."</p> + +<p>Gontran began to laugh.</p> + +<p>"Oh, you can laugh as much as you please! +You know very well that but for this—on what +does fate depend?—I should now be married and +a duchess, it is true; but Duchess of Courtalin, and +not Duchess of Lannilis. Well, perhaps that would +have been better! At any rate, I wish to give +Aunt Louise the authentic history of our marriage."</p> + +<p>"Tell away, if it amuses you," said Gontran.</p> + +<p>"Yes, sir, it amuses me. You shall know all, +Aunt Louise—all, absolutely all; and I beg you to +be judge of our quarrel."</p> + +<p>This scene was taking place eight days after +Marceline de Lorlauge, at the Church of the Madeleine, +before the altar, hidden under a mountain of +roses, had answered "yes," with just the right +amount of nervousness and emotion (neither too +much nor too little, but exactly right), when she was +asked if she was willing to take for husband her +cousin, Jean Leopold Mathurin Arbert Gontran, +Duke of Lannilis.</p> + +<p>This marriage had been the great marriage of the +season. There had been an absolute crush under +the colonnade and against the railings of the church +to see the bride walk down those fearful steps of +the Madeleine. What an important feat that is! +Merely to be beautiful is not all that is needful; it +is necessary besides to know how to be beautiful. +There is an art about being pretty which requires +certain preparations and study. In society, as in +the theatre, success rarely comes at once. Mme. +de Lannilis had the good-fortune to make her +first appearance with decisive success. She was at +once quite easily and boldly at home in her beauty; +she had only to appear to triumph. Prince +Nérins had not a moment's hesitation concerning +it, and he it is, as every one knows, who, with +general consent, has made himself the distributor +of the patents of supreme Parisian elegance; +so while the new duchess, beneath the fire of a +thousand eyes and behind the ringing staffs, was +taking her first steps as a young married woman +with calm assurance, Nérins, struck with admiration, +was giving way, under the colonnade of the +Madeleine, to veritable transports of enthusiasm. +He went from group to group repeating:</p> + +<p>"She is aerial! There is no other expression +for her—aerial! She does not walk, she glides! +If she had the fantasy, with one little kick of her +heel, she could raise herself lightly over the heads +of those two tall fellows with spears, cross the +Place de la Concorde, and go and place herself on +the pediment of the Chamber of Deputies. Look +at her well; that is true beauty, radiant beauty, +blazing beauty! She is a goddess, a young goddess! +she will reign long, gentlemen—as long as +possible."</p> + +<p>The young goddess, for the present, did not go +farther than Lannilis, in Poitou, to her husband's +home—her home—in a mansion that had seen +many Duchesses of Lannilis, but never one more +charming, and never, it must be said, one more absolutely +in love. This little duchess of nineteen +was wild about this little duke of twenty-five, who +was jealously carrying her off for himself alone to +a quiet and solitary retreat.</p> + +<p>They had arrived Thursday, the 24th of June, at +about two o'clock—on an exquisite night beneath +a star-spangled sky—and they were suddenly +astounded at receiving a letter from their Aunt +Louise, dated July 1:</p> + +<p>"Eight days' steady tête-à-tête," she wrote, "is +enough, quite enough. Trust to the experience of +an old countrywoman, who would be delighted to +kiss her little nephew and niece. Don't eat all +your love in the bud—keep a little for the future."</p> + +<p>Thursday, the 1st of July! Eight days! They +had been eight days at Lannilis! It was impossible! +They tried to put some order in their reflections. +What had they done Friday, Saturday, +and Sunday? But all was vague, and became confused +in their minds. The days and the nights, +and the nights and days. What had they done? +It was always the same, same thing; and the same +thing had somehow never been the same thing.</p> + +<p>They had just loved, loved, loved; and, quite given +up to this very wise occupation, they had completely +forgotten that near Lannilis, in the old residence +of Chatellerault, there was dear old Aunt +Louise, who was expecting their first bridal visit—a +visit which was due her, for she had the best claim +in the world, on account of her eighty-four years, +her kindness, and also because of the gift of a +magnificent pearl necklace to Marceline.</p> + +<p>So it was necessary to be resigned, to leave off +dreaming, and to come back to reality; and it was +during this visit that, before the old aunt, much +amused at the quarrel, this great dispute had +abruptly burst forth between the young married +couple.</p> + +<p>Aunt Louise had accepted the position of arbitrator, +and, presiding over the discussion, she had +made the two contestants sit down before her in +arm-chairs, at a respectful distance. Marceline, +before being seated, had already taken the floor.</p> + +<p>"Every one agreed upon this point (you know +it, Aunt Louise; mamma must often have told you +in her letters)—every one was agreed on this point: +that there were really only two suitable matches +for me—the Duke of Lannilis here present, and the +Duke of Courtalin. I had the weakness to prefer +him—him over there. Why? I can scarcely tell-a +childish habit, doubtless. We had played together +when we were no higher than that at being +little husband and wife. I had remained faithful to +that childhood love, whereas he—"</p> + +<p>"Whereas I—"</p> + +<p>"All in due season, sir, and you will lose nothing +by waiting. However, there were all sorts of good +reasons for preferring—the other one, who had a +larger fortune and was of more ancient nobility."</p> + +<p>"Oh, as to that—in money, maybe, but as to +birth—"</p> + +<p>"It is indisputable! You are both dukes by +patent."</p> + +<p>"We in 1663."</p> + +<p>"And the Courtalin—"</p> + +<p>"In 1666 only."</p> + +<p>"Agreed."</p> + +<p>"Well, then?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, just wait! I am posted on the question; +mamma studied it thoroughly when things looked, +three months ago, as if I should be Duchess of +Courtalin. One morning mamma went to the archives +with an old friend of hers, a great historian, +who is a member of the Institute. You date from +1663, and the Courtalin from 1666; that is correct. +But Louis XIV., in 1672, by a special edict, gave the +precedence to the Courtalins; and you have not, +I suppose, any idea of disputing what Louis XIV. +thought best to do. Now, Aunt Louise, can he?"</p> + +<p>"Certainly not."</p> + +<p>"But Saint Simon—"</p> + +<p>"Oh, let us leave Saint Simon alone; he is prejudice +and inaccuracy itself! I know he is on your +side, but that doesn't count; but I will, to be agreeable +to you, acknowledge that you are better looking +and taller than M. de Courtalin—"</p> + +<p>"But—"</p> + +<p>"Oh, my dear, I begin to see! You are dying +for me to tell you that. Well, yes, you are a fairly +handsome man; but that is only a very perishable +advantage, and you have too much respect for conventionalities +to wish to make that equal to the decree +of Louis XIV. However, I loved you—I loved +you faithfully, tenderly, fondly, stupidly; yes, stupidly, +for when I had come out in society, the year +before, in April, 1889, at Mme. de Fresnes's ball, +when I had allowed my poor, little, thin shoulders +to be seen for the first time (I must have been about +seventeen), I noticed that the young marriageable +men in our set (they are all quoted, noted, and labelled) +drew away from me with strange, respectful +deference. I appeared to be of no importance or +interest, in spite of my name, my dowry, and my +eyes. You see, I had singed myself. I had so ridiculously +advertised my passion for you that I no +longer belonged to myself; I was considered as +belonging to you. As soon as I had put on my +first long dress, which gave me at once the right to +think of marriage and speak of love, I had told all +my friends that I loved, and would never love or +marry any one but you—you or the convent. Yes, +I had come to that! My friends had told their +brothers and cousins, who had repeated it to you +(just what I wanted), but it put me out of the race. +Dare to say, sir, that it is not all true, strictly true!"</p> + +<p>"I am saying nothing—?"</p> + +<p>"Because you are overcome, crushed by the evidence. +You say nothing now, but what did you +say last year? Last year! When I think that we +could have been married since last year! A year, +a whole year lost! And it was so long, and it could +have been so short! Well, he was there, at the +Fresnes' ball. He condescended to do me the honor +of dancing three times with me. I came home intoxicated, +absolutely intoxicated with joy. But that +great happiness did not last long, for this is what +that Gontran the next day said to his friend Robert +d'Aigremont, who told his sister Gabrielle, who repeated +it to me, that he saw clearly that they wished +to marry him to his cousin Marceline. I had, the +day before, literally thrown myself into his arms; +he had thought right, from pure goodness of heart, +to show some pity for the love of the little school-girl, +so he had resolved to dance with me; but he +had done, quite done—he wouldn't be caught again. +He would keep carefully away from coming-out +balls; they were too dangerous a form of gayety. +Marriage did not tempt him in the least. He had +not had enough of a bachelor's life yet—besides, he +knew of nothing more absurd than those marriages +between cousins. The true pleasure of marriage, he +said, must be to put into one's life something new +and unexpected, and to call by her first name, all +at once, on Tuesday morning, a person whom one +didn't so call Monday night. But a person whom +one already knew well, where would be the pleasure? +He made a movement, Aunt Louise; did you +see?"</p> + +<p>"I saw—"</p> + +<p>"He recognized the phrase."</p> + +<p>"True. I remember—"</p> + +<p>"Ah! but you did not say that phrase only—you +said all the others. But that is nothing as yet, Aunt +Louise. Do you know what was his principal objection +to a marriage with me? Do you know what +he told Robert? That he had seen me in evening-dress +the night before for the first time, and that I +was too thin! Too thin! Ah! that was a cruel +blow to me! For it was true. I was thin. The +evening after Gabrielle had told me that awful fact, +that evening in undressing I looked at my poor little +shoulders, with their poor little salt-cellars, and +I had a terrible spasm of sorrow—a flood of tears +that wouldn't stop—a torrent, a real torrent; and +then mamma appeared. I was alone, disrobed, hair +flying, studying my shoulders, deploring their meagreness—a +true picture of despair! Mamma took +me in her arms. 'My angel, my poor dear, what is +the matter?' I answered only by sobbing. 'My +child, tell me all.' Mamma was very anxious, but +I could not speak; tears choked my voice. 'My +dearest, do you wish to kill me?' So to reassure +mamma I managed to say between my sobs: 'I +am too thin, mamma; last night Gontran thought +me too thin!' At that mamma began to laugh +heartily; but as she was good-humored that evening, +after laughing she explained to me that she, +at seventeen, had been much thinner than I, and +she promised me in the most solemn manner that +I should grow stouter. Mamma spoke true; I +have fattened up. Will you have the goodness, sir, +to declare to our aunt that the salt-cellars have entirely +disappeared, and that you cannot have against +me, in that respect, any legitimate cause of complaint?"</p> + +<p>"I will declare so very willingly; but you will permit +me to add—"</p> + +<p>"I will permit you no such thing. I have the +floor, let me speak; but you will soon have a chance +to justify yourself. I intend to put you through a +little cross-questioning."</p> + +<p>"I'll wait, then—"</p> + +<p>"Yes, do. So last spring I began my first campaign. +I do not know, Aunt Louise, what the customs +were in your time, but I know that to-day, at +the present time, the condition of young girls is one +of extreme severity. We are kept confined, closely +confined, till eighteen, for mamma was very indulgent +in bringing me out when I was only seventeen; +but mamma is goodness itself, and then she isn't +coquettish for a sou—she didn't mind admitting that +she had a marriageable daughter. All mothers are +not like that, and I know some who are glad to put +off the public and official exhibition of their poor +children so as to gain a year. At the same time +that they race at Longchamps and Chantilly the +great fillies of the year, they take from their boxes +the great heiresses of the year who are ripe for matrimony, +and in a series of white balls given for that +purpose, between Easter Sunday and the Grand +Prix, they are made to take little trial gallops before +connoisseurs. They have to work rapidly and find +a buyer before the Grand Prix; for after that all is +up, the young girls are packed back to their governesses, +dancing-masters, and literary professors. +The campaign is over. That is all for the year. +They are not seen again, the poor things, till after +Lent. So mamma took me last year to a dozen +large balls, which were sad and sorrowful for me. +He was not there! He didn't wish to marry! He +told it to every one insolently, satirically. He +would never, never, never marry! He told it to +me."</p> + +<p>"At your mother's request."</p> + +<p>"Yes, that is true. I know since that it was at +mamma's petition that he talked that way; she +hoped it would prevent my being stubborn in my +craze for him."</p> + +<p>"Craze!" exclaimed Aunt Louise.</p> + +<p>"Excuse me, Aunt Louise, it is a word of to-day."</p> + +<p>"And means—"</p> + +<p>"It means a sort of unexplainable, absurd, and +extravagant love that comes without its being possible +to know why—in short, Aunt Louise, exactly +the love I have for him."</p> + +<p>"Much obliged! But you do not tell everything. +You do not say that your mother desired your marriage +with Courtalin—"</p> + +<p>"Yes, of course; mamma was quite right. M. de +Courtalin has a thousand sterling merits that you +have not—that you will never have; and then M. de +Courtalin had a particularly good point in mamma's +eyes: he did not find me too thin, and he asked for +my hand in marriage. One day about four o'clock +(that was the 2d of June last year) mamma came +into my room with an expression on her face +I had never seen before. 'My child,' she said—'my +dear child!' She had no need to finish; I had +understood. M. de Courtalin all the evening before, +at the Princess de Viran's, had hovered about +me, and the next day his mother had come to declare +to mamma that her son knew of nothing more +delightful than my face. I answered that I knew +of nothing less delightful than M. de Courtalin's +face. I added that, besides, I was in no hurry to +marry. Mamma tried to make me hear reason. I +was going to let slip an admirable chance. The +Duke of Courtalin was the target of all the ambitious +mothers—a great name, a great position, a great +fortune! I should deeply regret some day to have +shown such disdain for advantages like these, etc. +And to all these things, which were so true and +sensible, I could find only one word to say: his +name, Gontran, Gontran, Gontran! Gontran or the +convent, and the most rigorous one of all, the Carmel, +in sackcloth and ashes! Oh, Aunt Louise, do +look at him! He listens to all this with an unbearable +little air of fatuity."</p> + +<p>"You have forbidden me to speak."</p> + +<p>"True. Don't speak; but you have deserved a little +lesson in modesty and humility. Good gracious! +you think perhaps it was for your merits that I chose +you, insisted on you. You would be far from the +mark, my poor dear. It is, on the contrary, because +of your want of merit. Now, as to M. de Courtalin. +Why, there is a man of merit! I had, from morning +to night, M. de Courtalin's merit dinned into +my ears, and that was why I had taken a dislike to +him. What I dreaded more than anything for a +husband was what is called a superior man; and +mamma went the wrong way to work to win me +over to her candidate when she said to me: 'He is +a very intelligent, very serious, very deep-thinking, +and very distinguished man; he has spent his +youth honorably; he has been a model son, and +would make a model husband.' It made me shiver +to hear mamma talk so. I know nothing more +awful than people who are always, always right; +who, under all circumstances, give evidence of unfailing +good sense; who crush us with their superiority. +With Gontran I am easy, quite easy. It +isn't he who would crush me with his superiority. +I do not know much, Aunt Louise, but my ignorance +beside his is learning. He had great trouble +in getting his baccalaureate. He flunked three +times."</p> + +<p>"Flunked!" exclaimed Aunt Louise.</p> + +<p>"It means failed. He taught me the word. All +the queer words I use, Aunt Louise, were taught +me by him."</p> + +<p>"Come, now—"</p> + +<p>"Yes, all. I can see him now, coming to the +house one day, and I can hear him say, 'Flunked +again!' That was the third time. Then he went +and took his examination in the country at a little +college at Douai; it was easier, and he passed at +last. M. de Courtalin has never been flunked; he +is everything that one can be at his age: bachelor, +advocate, lawyer, and grave, exact, and severe in +his language, and dressed—always in a black +frock-coat, with two rows of buttons, always all +buttoned—in short, a man of the past. And what a +future before him! Already a member of the General +Council, and very eloquent, very influential, +he will be deputy in three years, and then, when +we have a government that people of our class can +recognize, minister, ambassador, and I know not +what! The highest offices wait for him, and all +his ambitions will be legitimate when he has a +chance to put his superior talents at the service of +the monarchy. That's one of mamma's phrases. +Whereas you, my poor Gontran—you will never be +anything other than a very funny and very nice +old dear, whom I shall lead as I like with my little +finger."</p> + +<p>"Oh! oh!"</p> + +<p>"You will see. Besides, you have seen for eight +days."</p> + +<p>"The first eight days don't count."</p> + +<p>"I will continue, rest assured. I love you, besides. +I love you, and do you know why? It is because +you are not a man of the past; you are distinctly +modern, very modern. Look at him, Aunt +Louise. Isn't he very nice, very well turned out, +very modern, in fact—I repeat it—in his little pearl-gray +suit. He is devoted to his clothes. He consults +for hours and hours with his tailor, which +delights me, for I intend to consult for hours and +hours with my dress-maker. And he will pay the +bills without a tremor, for he will be charmed to see +me very stylish and very much admired. Ah, we +shall make the most brilliant and most giddy little +couple! He is modern, I shall be modern, we shall +be modern! After three, four, or five weeks (we +do not know exactly) dedicated to pure love, we +shall take flight towards the country, where one has +a good time; and then we shall be talked about, +Aunt Louise, we shall be talked about. And now, +where was I in my story? I am sure I do not +know at all."</p> + +<p>"Nor I."</p> + +<p>"Nor I."</p> + +<p>"Ah, I know. Mme. de Courtalin had come to +ask my hand for her honorable son, and when +mamma had spoken to me of that I had exclaimed, +'Sooner the convent!' I do not know +exactly what mamma said to Mme. de Courtalin—at +any rate, I was left alone for the time being. +There was a rush to the Grand Prix, and then a +general breaking-up. We went to spend a month +at Aix-les-Bains for papa's complaint, and then a +fortnight here, Aunt Louise; and then, do you remember, +you received the confessions of my poor +torn heart. Ah! I must say you are the only +young member of the family—you were the only +one who did not make a long face when I spoke of +my love for that rogue. Mamma, however, had +preached to you, and you vaunted the advantages +of an alliance with Courtalin, but without conviction. +I felt that you were at bottom on my side +against mamma, and it was so easily explained—mamma +could not understand me, whereas you! +They think we little girls know nothing, and we +know everything. I knew that mamma had made a +worldly marriage, which had, however, turned out +very well; and you, Aunt Louise, had married for +love. You must have battled to get the husband +you wished, and you had him, and you resolutely +conquered your happiness. Yes, I knew all that; +I dared even to allude to those things of the past, +and those memories brought a smile to your lips +and tears to your eyes. And to-day again, Aunt +Louise, there it is, the smile, and there are the +tears."</p> + +<p>Marceline interrupted her talk, affectionately +threw herself on her Aunt Louise's neck, and kissed +her with all her heart. She wiped away the tears +with kisses, and only the smile remained. Yes, +Aunt Louise remembered that she had had hard +work to get as husband a certain handsome officer +of the Royal Guard, who was there present at +the scene, in an old decorated frame, standing up +with his helmet on his head in a martial attitude, +leaning on the hilt of his cavalry sabre.</p> + +<p>He, too, had been modern, that conqueror of the +Trocadero, when he entered Madrid in 1822 on the +staff of the Duke of Angoulême. And she, too, old +Aunt Louise, had been modern, very modern, the +day when, from a window of the Palace of the Tuileries, +during a military parade, she had murmured +this phrase in her mother's ear: "Mamma, there is +the one I love."</p> + +<p>"Ah, how cowardly we are!" exclaimed Marceline, +abruptly, changing her tone. "Yes, how cowardly +we are to love them—those, those dreadful +men, who know so little how to care for us. I say +that for Gontran. What was he doing while I +was telling you my sorrows, Aunt Louise? Quite +calmly taking a trip around the world. But let him +speak now, let him speak, especially as I cannot +any more. In all my life I have never made so +long a speech. Speak, sir; why were you going +round the world?"</p> + +<p>"Because your mother, on the morning of the +day before you departed for Aix-les-Bains, had had +a very long conversation with me."</p> + +<p>"And she had said to you?"</p> + +<p>"She had said to me, 'Put a stop to this; marry +her or go away, and let her not hear of you again +till her marriage.' And as I had for some time +been debating whether to take a little trip to Japan, +I started for Japan."</p> + +<p>"He started for Japan! That goes without saying. +You hear him, Aunt Louise; he admits that +this time last year he preferred to expatriate himself +rather than marry me. So there he was in +America, in China, and in Japan. This lasted ten +months; from time to time, humbly and timidly, I +asked for news of him. He was very well; his +last letter was from Shanghai, or Sidney, or Java. +For me, not a word, not a remembrance—nothing, +nothing, absolutely nothing!"</p> + +<p>"I had promised your mother. One day at Yokohama +I had bought you a lot of fascinating little +things. The box was done up and addressed to +you when I remembered my promise. I sent all +those Japaneseries to your mother, thinking that +you would have your share of the spoil."</p> + +<p>"I had nothing at all. The arrival of the box +was kept a secret. It would have been necessary +to have pronounced your name before me, and +mamma didn't wish that. On the other hand, there +was always one name on her lips—Courtalin. Still +Courtalin, and always Courtalin. He had all qualities, +all virtues. Then he had just lost his aunt +in Brittany, and he had inherited something. It +was thought that he would only have a quarter of +the property, and he had had three-quarters. Besides, +it was a country-seat, and all around this +seat, an admirable domain, sixteen or seventeen +hundred hectares. I say it to my shame, Aunt +Louise, to my great shame, the thought of giving +in came to me; and then, to be absolutely frank, +it rather pleased me to become a duchess; so +mamma made me out a list of all possible husbands +for me, and there was no other duke in the +list but M. de Courtalin. There was, of course, +the little Count of Limiers, who would be duke +some day. But when? His father is forty-five and +an athlete, and has an iron constitution. So I was +obliged to admit it when I talked it over with +mamma in the evening. To be duchess it was +necessary to agree on M. de Courtalin. Mamma, +however, was perfect, and delightfully gentle. She +did not press me, nor treat me harshly, nor torment +me; she waited. Only I knew she had said to +Mme. de Nelly: 'It will be accomplished, my dear, +before the 20th of June. It must be.' Papa +was obliged to return to Aix for his complaint. +The 20th of June was the date for his departure. +I no longer said, 'No, no, no!' with that savage +energy of the year before. You see, Gontran, +I open my whole heart to you; you will have, I +hope, soon the same courage and sincerity."</p> + +<p>"You may be sure of it."</p> + +<p>"I was waiting, however—I was waiting for his +return. I wished to have with him a very serious +conversation. It is quite true that I felt like fainting +with fear at the mere thought of that explanation; +but I was none the less resolved to speak, and +I would speak. It seemed to me impossible that +he had not thought of me sometimes out there in +China and Cochin China. We had always loved +each other (till the unhappy day on which I had +become marriageable) with a tender and faithful +affection! I knew that he would arrive in Paris +during the night of the 2d or 3d of April. Very +certainly the day after he would come and see us. +And so, in fact, towards two o'clock he came. +Mamma hadn't finished dressing; I was alone. I +ran to him. 'Ah, how glad I am to see you!' and +I kissed him with effusion. Then he, very much +moved, yes, very much moved, kissed me, and began +to say to me such nice and pretty things that I +felt my heart melting. Ah, if mamma hadn't come +for five minutes—I would only have asked for five +minutes!—and how quickly it would have turned +into love-making our little explanation!"</p> + +<p>"Yes, that is true. The impulse that threw you +into my arms was so sincere. Ah, very certainly +it was that day, at that moment, that I began to love +you. And then I looked at you. You were no +longer the same. There was such great and happy +change."</p> + +<p>"He does not dare say it, Aunt Louise, but I +will say it: I had become fatter. Ah, when I +think that I might be Duchess of Courtalin if I +had remained thin. Those men! Those men! +What wretches! But mamma came in, then papa, +and then my brother George. No explanation possible! +There they all were engaged in an odious +conversation on the comparative merits of the +English and French boats—the English ones are +faster, the food on the French ones is better, etc. +It was charming! At the end of an hour Gontran +went away, but not without giving me a very tender +and eloquent hand-shake. I could wish nothing +more speaking than that hand-shake. But mamma, +who was observing us attentively, had clearly seen +our two hands, after having found a way to say +very pleasant things, had had a great deal of trouble +in separating. I expected, of course, to see him +the next day. Did you come?"</p> + +<p>"No."</p> + +<p>"And the day after that?"</p> + +<p>"No, nor then."</p> + +<p>"At last, after three days, mamma took me to +the races at the Bois de Boulogne. We arrived, +and there at once, two steps from me, I saw him. +But no, it was no longer he; frigid greeting, frigid +good-day, frigid hand-shake, frigid words, and very +few of them—scarcely a few sentences, awkward +and embarrassed. Then he was lost in the crowd, +and that was all. He did not appear again. I +was dumfounded, overcome, crushed."</p> + +<p>"But it was your mother who—"</p> + +<p>"Yes, I know now; but I did not know that day. +Yes, it was mamma. Oh, must I not love mamma +to have forgiven her that?"</p> + +<p>"She had come to me very early in the morning +the day after the very eloquent hand-shake and +there, in tears—yes, literally in tears (she was sobbing)—she +had appealed to my sense of honor, of +delicacy, of integrity. 'You both had,' she said to +me, 'yesterday, on seeing each other again after a +long absence, a little spasm of emotion. That is +all right; but you must stop there, and not prolong +this foolishness,' And, just as I was going to protest: +'Oh yes; foolishness!' 'Remember, Marceline's +happiness is at stake. You have no right to +compromise her. You come back from China all +at once, and your abrupt return will break off more +sensible, more studied arrangements. M. de Courtalin +is thirty-four; he is a man of great knowledge +and wisdom. However, I know that that is only a +secondary consideration; but love passes away, and +money remains, and M. de Courtalin is richer, very +much richer, than you. With him Marceline will +have quite a grand position. Whereas you, you +know how I love you, and I know how worthy you +are of being loved. You are charming, charming, +charming.' It was your mother who spoke thus."</p> + +<p>"I know; I know."</p> + +<p>"'Yes, charming; but when I have said that, I +have said all. So I will ask you this question, and +I expect from you a faithful answer: Have you +those solid qualities which alone can make a husband, +a true husband? Marceline is a little light-headed, +a little frivolous, a little coquettish.' It is +always your mother who is speaking."</p> + +<p>"I know; I know."</p> + +<p>"I was embarrassed, Aunt Louise; it seemed to +me that that speech was not without reason. I +hadn't a very high idea of myself as a husband, +and even now I ask myself—"</p> + +<p>"Don't ask yourself anything. Be an affectionate +husband, and you will have all the virtues. +Nothing simpler, as you see. You can go on."</p> + +<p>"Well, your mother was so skilfully persuasive +that the day after, at the races, I gave that cold +greeting."</p> + +<p>"And so I, that same day, on entering the +house, threw myself into mamma's arms, exclaiming, +'Yes, I am willing to marry M. de Courtalin!' +Ah, how many times between that day and +the 16th of May I threw myself into mamma's +arms! I did nothing else. Mamma got used to +it, and never saw me appear without mechanically +opening her arms. 'Yes, I am willing,' and sometimes, +'No, I am not.' But the 'No, I am nots' +became fewer and fewer. M. de Courtalin, besides, +was perfect; a model of tact, of gentleness, +and of resignation. He waited, always in his black +frock-coat, always buttoned, with an inexhaustible +patience. Mamma was, in short, pledged to Mme. +de Courtalin, and I felt the circle tighten round +me. The papers announced, in a covert but transparent +way, that there was question of an alliance +between two families of the Faubourg Saint-Germain, +and they made it pretty clear that it concerned +two important families. I already received +vague congratulations, and I dared respond only +by vague denials. The morning of the famous +17th of May mamma had said to me, 'Come, +my child, don't make a martyr of that poor boy. +Since it is to be "yes," for it will be "yes," you +know yourself, say "yes" at once.' I had obtained +only a miserable respite of twenty-four +hours; and things were thus when, still on the 17th +of May, mamma and I arrived, a little late (after +eleven), at Mme. de Vernieux's, who was giving a +ball, a very large ball. I went in, and I had at +once the feeling that I must be looking extremely +well that evening. They formed into a little +hedge along my way, and I heard a little 'oh!' +of surprise, and a big 'ah!' of admiration which +went straight to my heart. I had had already in +society certain successes, but never any as marked +as that one. M. de Courtalin came towards me. +He wished to engage me for all the waltzes, for all +the quadrilles, for the entire evening, for the night, +for life. I answered him: 'Later, presently, we will +see. I feel a little tired.' The fact was I hadn't +the heart to dance. Mamma and I took our seats. +A waltz began. Mamma scolded softly: 'Dance +with him, my child, I beg.' I didn't listen to her. +I was abstractedly looking around the room when +suddenly I saw in a corner two eyes fixed, fastened, +pinioned on me—two eyes that I well knew, but +that I had some difficulty in recognizing, for they +were tremendously enlarged by a sort of stupor."</p> + +<p>"Say by overwhelming admiration."</p> + +<p>"As you please But it is here, Aunt Louise, +that my interrogation will begin. Why and how +were you there? Where had you dined, Gontran?"</p> + +<p>"At the club."</p> + +<p>"And what did you intend to do after dinner? +Come to Mme. de Vernieux's?"</p> + +<p>"No; Robert d'Aigremont and I had meant to +go to the Bouffes-Parisiens."</p> + +<p>"You did not go? Why?"</p> + +<p>"We had telephoned from the club to have a +box; all were sold—"</p> + +<p>"So you said to Robert—"</p> + +<p>"I said to Robert, 'Let's play bezique;' and I +was beaten by one of those streaks of bad luck—34,000 +points in a dozen games—so thoroughly +that towards half-past ten I thought that bezique +had lasted long enough—"</p> + +<p>"And so—"</p> + +<p>"And so—"</p> + +<p>"So Robert wished to bring you to Mme. de +Vernieux's. And you didn't want to go! If +you hadn't come, however, and if there had been +a box at the Bouffes-Parisiens, or if you had won +at bezique, my marriage with M. de Courtalin +would have been publicly announced the next day."</p> + +<p>"Yes, but I came; and there I was in the corner +looking at you, looking at you, looking at you. +It was you, and yet not you—"</p> + +<p>"I, immediately on seeing the way you were looking +at me, understood that something extraordinary +was going to happen. Your eyes shone, burned, +blazed!"</p> + +<p>"Because I had discovered that you were simply +the prettiest woman of the ball, where all the prettiest +women of Paris were. Yes, the prettiest, and +such shoulders, such shoulders!"</p> + +<p>"Ripe! in fact, I was ripe!"</p> + +<p>"My head was turned at once. I saw Courtalin +manoeuvring and trying to get near you. I understood +that there was not a moment to be lost. To +reach there ahead of Courtalin I threw myself intrepidly +into the midst of the room, among the waltzers, +pushing and being pushed. I forged a passage +and tore into rags one of the lace flounces of Mme. +de Lornans—she hasn't yet forgiven me. But I +got there—I got there before Courtalin, and threw +myself on you, and took you round your waist +(I can still hear your little cry), and I dragged +you off."</p> + +<p>"Mamma had scarcely time to scream 'Marceline, +Marceline!' when I was there no more. He +had lifted me off, and carried me away; and we +were waltzing wildly, furiously!—oh, what a waltz!—and +he was saying to me: 'I love you! I adore +you! You are grace and beauty itself! There is +only one pretty woman here—you; and it is I who +will be your husband. I, do you hear? I, and not +another!' And I, quite suffocated with surprise, +pleasure, and emotion, allowed myself to be nearly +carried by him, but I kept begging him to speak +lower. 'Anything you wish; yes, I will be your +wife; but take care—you will be heard—you will be +heard.'"</p> + +<p>"That is what I wished; and I continued, 'I love +you! I adore you!'"</p> + +<p>"Then I, absolutely breathless: 'Not so fast. +I pray, not so fast; I shall fall. I assure you everything +is going round, everything is going round. +Let us stop.' 'No, no; don't let's stop. Keep on +still. If we stop your mother will separate us, and +I have still so many things to say to you—so many +things, so many things. Swear to me that you will +be my wife.' 'Yes, I swear it; but enough, enough—' +I was smothering. He heard nothing. He was +going, going like a madman. We had become a +hurricane, a whirlwind, a cyclone. We caused surprise +and fright. No one danced any more, but +looked at us. And he held me so close, and his +face was so near my face, his lips so near my lips, +that all at once I felt myself giving way. I slipped, +and let myself into his arms. A cloud passed +before my eyes; I could not speak nor think; +then blankness. Everything had disappeared before +me in a vertigo not too disagreeable, I must +say. I had fainted, absolutely fainted."</p> + +<p>"The next day our marriage was decided, perfectly +decided. Our waltz had caused scandal. +That was just what I wanted."</p> + +<p>"There, Aunt Louise, is the history of our marriage, +and I want to-day to draw this conclusion: +it is that I was the first to begin to love, and I shall +have, consequently, one day, when it pleases me, +the right to stop the first."</p> + +<p>"Ah, no, indeed; tell her, Aunt Louise, that she +will never have that right—"</p> + +<p>A new quarrel threatened to break out.</p> + +<p>"This, my children," said the old aunt, "is all I +have to say: she did, in truth, start the first to love; +but it seems to me, Gontran, that you started all at +once at such a great pace that you must have +caught up with her."</p> + +<p>"Passed her, Aunt Louise."</p> + +<p>"Oh no!" exclaimed Marceline.</p> + +<p>"Oh yes—"</p> + +<p>"Oh no—"</p> + +<p>"Well," continued Aunt Louise, "try never to +have any other quarrels than that one. Try to walk +always in life step by step, side by side, and heart +to heart. I have seen many inventions since I was +born, and the world is no longer what it was then. +But there is one thing to which inventions have +made no difference, and never will. That thing +you have; keep it. It is love! Love each other, +children, as strongly and as long as possible."</p> + +<p>And Aunt Louise wept another tear, and smiled +on looking at the portrait of the officer of the Royal +Guard.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="THE_DANCING_MASTER" id="THE_DANCING_MASTER"></a>THE DANCING-MASTER</h2> + + +<p>I was dining at the house of some friends, and +in the course of the evening the hostess said to me:</p> + +<p>"Do you often go to the opera?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, very often."</p> + +<p>"And do you go behind the scenes?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, I go behind."</p> + +<p>"Then you can do me a favor. In the ballet +department there's an old man called Morin, who +is perfectly respectable, it seems. He is the little +B——'s dancing-master. He gives excellent lessons. +I should like to have him for my little girls, +so ask him if he could come twice a week."</p> + +<p>I willingly undertook the delicate mission.</p> + +<p>The next day, February 17, 1881, about ten in +the evening, I arrived at the opera, and went behind +the scenes to search for Monsieur Morin. +"The Prophet" was being played, and the third +act had just begun. On the stage the Anabaptists +were singing forcibly:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span>"Du sang! que Judas succombe!<br /></span> +<span>Du sang! Dansons sur leur tombe!<br /></span> +<span>Du sang! Voila l'hécatombe<br /></span> +<span>Que Dieu nous demande encor!"<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>Axes were raised over the heads of a crowd +of hapless prisoners, who were barons, bishops, +monks, and grand ladies. In the wings, balanced +on their skates, all the ballet-girls were waiting the +right moment to</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span>"Effleurer la glace<br /></span> +<span>Sans laisser de trace."<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>I respectfully begged one of the young Westphalian +peasant-girls to point out to me the man +named Morin.</p> + +<p>"Morin," she replied, "is not one of the skaters. +Look, he is on the stage. That's he over there, the +one who is doing the bishop; that bishop, you see, +who is being pushed and pulled. Wait, he will be +off directly."</p> + +<p>One of the Anabaptist leaders intervened, however, +declaring that the nobles and priests who +could pay ransom should be spared. Morin escaped +with his life, and I had the honor of being +presented to him by the little Westphalian peasant-girl.</p> + +<p>He had quite a venerable air, with his long gray +beard and his fine purple robe with his large pastoral +cross. While he was arranging somewhat +his costume, which had been so roughly pulled by +those violent Anabaptists, I asked him if he would +be willing to give lessons to two young girls of +good family.</p> + +<p>The pious bishop accepted with alacrity. His +price was ten francs an hour.</p> + +<p>The little skaters had gone on the stage, and +were performing wonderful feats. The wings had +suddenly become calm and silent. We gave ourselves +up, his Reverence and myself, to a little +friendly chat.</p> + +<p>"Yes, sir," his Highness said to me, "I give +dancing lessons. I have many patrons among the +aristocracy and the bankers. I have no reason to +complain; and yet one must admit things were +better once, much better. Dancing is going out, +sir, dancing is going out."</p> + +<p>"Is it possible?"</p> + +<p>"It is as I have the honor of telling you. Women +still learn to dance; but no longer the young +men, sir, no longer. Baccarat, races, and the minor +theatres—that's what they enjoy. It's a little the +fault of the Government."</p> + +<p>"How can that be?"</p> + +<p>"M. Jules Ferry has recently rearranged the +curriculum of the University. He has made certain +studies obligatory—modern languages, for instance. +I don't blame him for that; the study of +modern languages has great advantages. But dancing, +sir; nothing has been done for dancing, and it +is dancing which ought, after all, to have been made +obligatory. There ought to be a dancing-master +in every high-school, and a normal-school for +dancing with examinations and competitions in +dancing. Dancing ought to be studied the same +as Latin or Greek. Dancing, too, is a language, +and a language that every well-bred man ought to +be able to speak. Well, do you know what happens +nowadays? Sometimes it happens, sir, that diplomatic +posts are given to people who get confused +in the figures of a quadrille, and who are incapable +of waltzing for two minutes. They know very well +that their education is incomplete. Quite lately a +young man came to me—a young man of great +merit, it seems, except in regard to dancing. He +had just been attached to a great embassy. He +had never danced in his life—never. Do you understand? +Never! It is scarcely to be credited, and +yet it is true. That's the way M. Barthélémy-Saint-Hilaire +picks them out. Oh, this beard smothers +me! Will you permit me?"</p> + +<p>"Certainly."</p> + +<p>He took off his gray beard, and thus looked much +less venerable. He then continued:</p> + +<p>"I said to this young man: 'We will try, but it +will be hard work. One oughtn't to begin dancing +at twenty-eight.' I limbered him up as best I could. +I had only two weeks to do it in. I begged him to +put off his departure, to obtain a reprieve of three +or four months—I could have made something of +him. He would not. He went without knowing +anything. I often think of him. He will represent +us out there; he will represent us very badly; he will +not be an honor to his country. Please to remember +that he may be called upon to take part in some +official quadrille—to dance, for instance, with an +archduchess. Well, if he slips up in it, with his +archduchess, it will be charming! All this is very +sad indeed. I am a Republican, sir, an old Republican, +and it is painful to think that the republic is +represented by diplomats who cannot distinguish +between a change of foot and a simple step. Do +you know what is said in foreign courts? 'Why, +who are those savages that France sends us?' +Yes, that's what they say. The diplomatic corps +in the time of the Empire was not brilliant. Oh +no; those gentlemen did many foolish things. Oh +yes; but still they knew how to dance!"</p> + +<p>And the good old bishop, seeing that I listened +with much interest, went on with his brilliant improvisation.</p> + +<p>"Dancing, sir, is not merely a pleasure, an amusement; +no, it is of great social interest. Why, the +question of marriage is closely connected with dancing. +At present, in France, marriage is languishing. +That is proved by statistics. Well, I am convinced +that if there are fewer marriages it is because +there is less dancing. Consider this first of all, +that to know how to dance well, very well, is, for +an agreeable young man who is without fortune, +a great advantage in society. One of my pupils, +sir, has recently married extremely well. He was +a very ordinary kind of youth, who had tried everything +and had succeeded in nothing; but he was a +first-rate waltzer, and he danced away with two +millions."</p> + +<p>"Two millions!"</p> + +<p>"Yes, two millions, and they were two cash millions; +she was an orphan, no father nor mother—all +that can be dreamed of. He clasped that young +lady (she was very plump). Well, in his arms, she +felt herself light as a feather. She thought of but +one thing—waltzing with him. She was as one +wild. He gave her a new sensation, and what is +it women desire above all things? To have new +sensations, in short, she refused marquises, counts, +and millionaires. She wanted him only. She got +him, and he was penniless, and his name is Durand. +Ah, do not repeat his name; I oughtn't to +have told you."</p> + +<p>"Don't be afraid."</p> + +<p>"After all, you can repeat it; it doesn't matter, it's +such a common name. There is public policy in love-matches +which cause a rich girl to marry a poor +man, or a poor girl to marry a rich man. It sets +money circulating, it prevents its remaining in the +same place, it keeps capital moving. Well, three-fourths +of the love-matches were formerly made +by the dance. Now there are short interviews in +parlors, in galleries, and at the Opéra Comique. +They chat; that's all right, but chatting is not +sufficient. Wit is something, but not everything. +A waltz furnishes much knowledge that conversation +cannot. Dress-makers nowadays are so +wily. They know how to bring out this point and +hide that; they remodel bad figures. They give +plumpness and roundness to the thin; they make +hips, shoulders—everything, in fact. One doesn't +know what to expect, science has made such advances. +The eye may be deceived, but the hand +of an experienced dancer never! A waltzer with +tact knows how to find out the exact truth about +things."</p> + +<p>"Oh! oh!"</p> + +<p>"Remaining all the time, sir, perfectly respectful +and perfectly reserved. Good heavens! look at +myself, for instance. It is to waltzing that I owe +my happiness. Mme. Morin was not then Mme. +Morin. I kept my eye on her, but I hesitated. +She appeared thin, and—well, I'll admit that to +marry a thin woman didn't suit my ideas. You +know every one has his ideals. So, sir, I was +still hesitating, when one evening, at the wedding +of one of my friends, a very capable young man, +a deputy manager of a department at the Ministry +of Religion, they started a little dance. For +the first waltz I asked the one who was to be my +companion through life. Immediately I felt in my +hand a delightful figure—one of those full but supple +figures; and while waltzing, quite enchanted, I +was saying to myself, 'She isn't really thin! she +isn't really thin!' I took her back to her place +after the waltz, and went at once to her mother to +ask for her hand, which was granted me. For fourteen +years I have been the happiest of men, and +perhaps I shouldn't have made that marriage if I +hadn't known how to waltz. You see, sir, the results +of a waltz?"</p> + +<p>"Perfectly."</p> + +<p>"That is not all, sir. Thanks to dancing, one +discovers not only the agreeable points of a person, +the fulness of her figure, the lithesomeness of +her waist, but also, in a briskly led waltz, a little +examination of the health and constitution of a +woman can be had. I remember one evening +twelve or so years ago—in the Rue Le Peletier, in +the old Opéra-house, which has burned down—I +was on the stage awaiting my cue for the dance +in 'William Tell,' you know, in the third act. Two +subscribers were talking quite close to me, in the +wings. One of the gentlemen was an old pupil of +mine. I have had so many pupils! Without wishing +to, I heard scraps of the conversation, and these +two sentences struck my ear: 'Well, have you decided?' +'Oh,' replied my pupil, 'I find her very +charming, but I have heard that she is weak in the +lungs.' Then, sir, I did a very unusual thing for +me. I begged pardon for having heard unintentionally, +and I said to my old pupil: 'I think I +have guessed that a marriage is in question. Will +you authorize me to give you a piece of advice—advice +drawn from the practice of my profession? +Do they allow this young lady to waltz?' You know +there are mothers who do not permit—"</p> + +<p>"I know, I know."</p> + + +<p>We had arrived at this point in that interesting +conversation when the ballet ended. The bishop +and myself were assailed by an actual whirlwind +of skaters, and my little Westphalian peasant-girl +found me where she had left me.</p> + +<p>"I declare!" she said to me, "so you come to +confess at the opera? Give him absolution, Morin, +and give it to me, too. Now then, come along +to the greenroom."</p> + +<p>She took my arm, and we went off together, while +the excellent Morin, with gravity and dignity beneath +his sacred ornaments, withstood the shock +of this avalanche of dancers.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="THE_CIRCUS_CHARGER" id="THE_CIRCUS_CHARGER"></a>THE CIRCUS CHARGER</h2> + + +<p>After George had related how he had been married +off at twenty-two by his aunt, the Baroness +de Stilb, Paul said: "<i>I</i> was married off by a circus +charger. I was very nearly forty years of age, and +I felt so peacefully settled in my little bachelor +habits that, in the best faith in the world, on all +occasions, I swore by the gods never to run the +great risk of marriage; but I reckoned without the +circus charger.</p> + +<p>"It was in the last days of September, 1864. I +had just arrived from Baden-Baden, and my intention +was to spend only twenty-four hours in Paris. +I had invited four or five of my friends—Callières, +Bernheim, Frondeville, and Valreas—to my place in +Poitou for the shooting season. They were to +come in the first part of October, and it needed a +week to put all in order at Roche-Targé. A letter +from my overseer awaited me in Paris, and the +letter brought disastrous news; the dogs were well, +but out of the dozen hunting horses that I had +there, five, during my sojourn at Baden, had fallen +sick or lame, and I found myself absolutely forced +to get new horses.</p> + +<p>"I made a tour of the Champs-Elysées sellers, +who showed me as hunters a fine collection of +broken—down skeletons. Average price, three +thousand francs. Roulette had treated me badly of +late, and I was neither in the humor, nor had I the +funds, to spend in that way seven or eight hundred +louis in a morning.</p> + +<p>"It was a Wednesday, and Chéri was holding his +first autumn sale. I went to the Rue de Ponthieu +during the day; and there out of the lot, on chance, +without inquiry, blindly, by good-luck, and from +the mere declarations of the catalogue—'<i>Excellent +hunter, good jumper, has hunted with lady rider</i>,' etc.—I +bought eight horses, which only cost me five +thousand francs. Out of eight, I said to myself, +there will always be four or five who will go, and +who will be good enough to serve as remounts.</p> + +<p>"Among the horses there was one that I had +bought, I must confess, particularly on account of +his coat, which was beautiful. The catalogue did +not attribute to him any special qualifications for +hunting, but limited itself to '<i>Brutus, riding horse</i>.' +He was a large dapple-gray horse, but never, I +think, have I seen gray better dappled; the white +coat was strewn almost regularly with beautiful +black spots, which were well distributed and well +marked.</p> + +<p>"I left town the next day for Roche-Targé, and +the following day, early, they announced to me that +the horses had arrived. I at once went down to +see them, and my first glance was at Brutus. He +had been trotting in my head for forty-eight hours, +that devil of a gray horse, and I had a singular +desire to know what he was and of what he was +capable.</p> + +<p>"I had him taken out of the stable first. A +groom led him to me with a strap. The horse had +long teeth, hollows in the chest, lumpy fetlocks—in +short, all the signs of respectable age; but he had +powerful shoulders, a large breast, a neck which +was both strong and supple, head well held, tail +well placed, and an irreproachable back. It wasn't, +however, all this that attracted most my attention. +What I admired above all was the air with which +Brutus looked at me, and with what an attentive, +intelligent, and curious eye he followed my movements +and gestures. Even my words seemed to +interest him singularly; he inclined his head to my +side as if to hear me, and, as soon as I had finished +speaking, he neighed joyously in answer.</p> + +<p>"They showed me successively the seven other +horses; I examined them rapidly and absent-mindedly. +They were horses like all other horses. +Brutus certainly had something in particular, and I +was anxious to make in his company a short jaunt +in the country. He allowed himself to be saddled, +bridled, and mounted like a horse who knows his +business, and so we both started in the quietest +way in the world.</p> + +<p>"I had at first ridden him with the snaffle, and +Brutus had gone off at a long easy gait, with +rather a stiff neck and projected head; but as +soon as I let him feel the curb, he changed with +extraordinary rapidity and suppleness, drawing his +head back to his breast, and champing his bit noisily; +then at the same time he took a short gait, +which was light and even, lifting well his feet and +striking the sod with the regularity of a pendulum.</p> + +<p>"Chéri's catalogue had not lied; the horse was a +good rider—too good a rider, in fact. I made him +trot, then gallop; the horse at the first suggestion +gave me an excellent little trot and an excellent little +gallop, but always plunging to the ground and +pulling my arms when I tried to lift his head. +When I wished to quicken his gait, the horse +broke at once. He began to rack in great style, +trotting with the fore-feet and galloping with the +hind ones. 'Well,' I said to myself, 'I see now; +I've bought some old horse of the Saumur or +Saint-Cyr school, and it's not on this beast that +I'll hunt in eight days.'</p> + +<p>"I was about to turn and go home, quite edified +as to Brutus's qualities, when the report of a gun +was heard twenty yards away in the woods. It +was one of my keepers who was shooting a rabbit, +and who received some time after a handsome +present from my wife for that shot.</p> + +<p>"I was then in the centre of the cross-roads, which +formed a perfect circle of five or six yards in radius; +six long green alleys came to an end at this +spot. On hearing the report, Brutus had stopped +short, planted himself on his four legs, with ears +erect and head raised. I was surprised to find the +horse so impressionable. I should have thought +that after the brilliant education that very certainly +he had received in his youth, Brutus must be an +artillery horse, used to gun and cannon. I drew in +my legs to urge the horse on, but Brutus didn't +move; I spurred him sharply twice, but Brutus +didn't move; I whipped him soundly, but Brutus +didn't move. I tried to back the horse, to push him +to the right, to the left, but I couldn't move him in +the slightest degree. Brutus seemed glued to the +ground, and yet—don't you dare to laugh, and be +assured that my tale is absolutely true—each time +that I attempted to put the horse in motion he +turned his head and looked at me with an expression +which could clearly be read as impatience +and surprise; then he would again become as immovable +as a statue. There was evidently some +misunderstanding between the horse and myself. +I saw that in his eyes, and Brutus said to me, with +all the clearness he could put in his expression, 'I, +as a horse, am doing my duty, and it's you, as a +rider, who are not doing yours!'</p> + +<p>"I was more puzzled than embarrassed. 'What +extraordinary kind of a horse have I bought at +Chéri's,' I said to myself, 'and why does he look +at me so queerly?' I was, however, going to take +strong measures—that is to say, I was preparing to +whip him smartly—when another report was heard.</p> + +<p>"Then the horse gave a jump. I thought I had +the best of it, and, profiting by his bound, I tried +to carry him forward with hand and knee. But +no; he stopped short after his bound, and again +planted himself on the ground more energetically +and more resolutely than the first time. Ah, then +I grew angry, and my whip came into play; I +grasped it firmly and began to strike the horse +with all my strength to the right and left. But +Brutus, he too lost patience, and, instead of the +cold and immovable opposition that at first he +had shown, I met with furious retaliations, strange +springs, bucking, extraordinary rearing, fantastic +whirling; and in the midst of this battle, while the +infatuated horse bounded and reared, while I, exasperated, +struck with vigor the leather pommel +with my broken whip, Brutus still found time to +give me glances not only of surprise and impatience, +but also of anger and indignation. While I +was asking the horse for the obedience which he +refused me, it is certain that he expected from me +something that I was not doing.</p> + +<p>"How did it end? To my shame, to my great +shame, I was pitifully unhorsed by an incomparable +feat! Brutus understood, I think, that he +would not get the better of me by violence, and +judged it necessary to try cunning; after a pause +which was most certainly a moment of reflection, +the horse rose up, head down, upright on his fore-feet, +with the skill, the calm, and the perfect +equilibrium of a clown who walks on his hands. +Thus I tumbled into the sand, which, by good-luck, +was thick in that spot.</p> + +<p>"I tried to get up. I screamed and fell back ridiculously, +flat on my stomach, on my nose. At the +slightest movement I felt as though a knife ran +through my left leg. It's a slight matter, however—the +rupture of a slender sinew; but though slight, the +injury was none the less painful. I succeeded, nevertheless, +in turning over and sitting up; but just +when, while rubbing my eyes, filled with sand, I +was beginning to ask myself what in the midst of +this tumult had become of my miserable dapple-gray, +I saw over my head a large horse's hoof +descending. Then this large hoof pressed, with a +certain gentleness, however, on my chest, and +pushed me delicately back on the ground, on my +back this time.</p> + +<p>"I was greatly discouraged; and feeling incapable +of another effort, I remained in that position, +continuing to ask myself what sort of a horse I had +bought at Chéri's, closing my eyes, and awaiting +death.</p> + +<p>"Suddenly I heard a curious trampling around +me; a quantity of little hard things struck me on +the face. I opened my eyes, and perceived Brutus, +who, with his fore-feet and hind-legs, was trying with +incredible activity and prodigious skill to bury me +in the sand. He was doing his best, poor beast, +and from time to time he stopped to gaze at his +work; then, raising his head, he neighed and began +his work again. That lasted for a good three +or four minutes, after which Brutus, judging me +doubtless sufficiently interred, placed himself very +respectfully on his knees before my tomb—on his +knees, literally on his knees! He was saying, I +suppose, a little prayer. I looked at him. It interested +me extremely.</p> + +<p>"His prayer finished, Brutus made a slight bow, +went off a few steps, stopped, then, beginning to +gallop, made at least twenty times the circuit of the +open space in the middle of which he had buried +me. Brutus galloped very well, with even stride, +head well held, on the right foot, making around +me a perfect circle. I followed him with my eyes, +but it made me uneasy to see him go round and +round and round. I had the strength to cry +'Stop! stop!' The horse stopped and seemed +embarrassed, without doubt asking himself what +there was still to be done; but he perceived my +hat, which in my fall had got separated from me, +and at once made a new resolution: he walked +straight to the hat, seized it in his teeth, and galloped +off, this time by one of the six alleys that led +from my tomb.</p> + +<p>"Brutus got farther and farther away, and disappeared; +I remained alone. I was puzzled, positively +puzzled. I shook off the little coating of +dust which covered me, and without getting up, by +the help of my two arms and right leg—to move +my left leg was not to be thought of—I succeeded +in dragging myself to a little grassy slope on the +edge of one of the alleys. Once there, I could sit +down, after a fashion, and I began to shout with +all the strength of my lungs, 'Hi, there! hi! hi, +there!' No answer. The woods were absolutely +deserted and still. The only thing to be done +was to wait till some one passed by to aid me.</p> + +<p>"For half an hour I had been in that hateful position +when I perceived in the distance, at the very +end of the same alley by which he had gone off, +Brutus coming back, with the same long gallop he +had used in going. A great cloud of dust accompanied +the horse. Little by little, in that cloud, I +perceived a tiny carriage—a pony-carriage; then +in that little pony-carriage a woman, who drove +herself, and behind the woman a small groom.</p> + +<p>"A few moments later Brutus, covered with foam, +stopped before me, let my hat drop at my feet and +neighed, as though to say, 'I've done my duty; here +is help.' But I no longer bothered myself about +Brutus and the explanations that he made me. My +only thoughts were for the fairy who was to relieve +me, and who, after lightly jumping from her little +carriage, was coming quickly towards me. Besides, +she, too, was examining me curiously, and all at +once we both exclaimed, at the same time:</p> + +<p>"'Mme. de Noriolis!'</p> + +<p>"'M. de La Roche-Targé!'</p> + +<p>"A little while ago George spoke to us of his +aunt, and mentioned how she had married him quite +young, at one stroke, without giving him time to +reflect or breathe. I, too, have an aunt, and between +us for a number of years there has been a +perpetual battle. 'Marry.' 'I don't want to marry.' +'Do you want young girls? There is Mademoiselle +A, Mademoiselle B, Mademoiselle C.' +'I don't want to marry.' 'Do you want widows? +There is Madame D, Madame E, Madame F.' 'I +don't want to marry.'</p> + +<p>"Mme. de Noriolis figured always in the first rank +in the series of widows, and I noticed that my aunt +put stress, with evident favoritism, on all the good +points and advantages that I should find in that +marriage. She didn't have to tell me that Mme. de +Noriolis was very pretty—any one could see that; +or that she was very rich—I knew it already. But +she explained to me that M. de Noriolis was an +idiot, who had had the merit of making his wife +perfectly miserable, and that thus it would be very +easy for the second husband to make himself very +much loved.</p> + +<p>"Then, when she had discoursed at length on the +virtues, graces, and merits of Mme. de Noriolis, +my aunt, who is clever and knows my weakness, +pulled out of her desk a topographical map, and +spread it out with care on the table.</p> + +<p>"It was the map of the district of Chatellerault, +a very correct and minute map, that my aunt had +gone herself to the military station to buy, with the +view of convincing me that I ought to marry Mme. +de Noriolis. The places of Noriolis and of La +Roche-Targé were scarcely three kilometers apart +in that map. My aunt, with her own hands, had +drawn a line of red ink, and slily united the two +places, and she forced me to look at her little red +line, saying to me, 'Two thousand acres without a +break, when the places of Noriolis and La Roche-Targé +are united; what a chance for a hunter!'</p> + +<p>"I closed my eyes, so strong was the temptation, +and repeated my refrain, 'I don't want to marry.' +But I was afraid, seriously afraid; and when I met +Mme. de Noriolis I always saw her surrounded, +as by a halo, by the little red line of my aunt, and +I said to myself: 'A charming, and clever, and +sensible woman, whose first husband was an idiot, +and this and that, and two thousand acres without +a break. Run away, wretch, run away, since you +don't wish to marry.'</p> + +<p>"And I ran away! But this time by what means +could I run away? I was there, miserable, in the +grass, covered with sand, with my hair in disorder, +my clothes in rags, and my unfortunate leg stiff. +And Mme. de Noriolis came nearer, looking spick +and span—always in the halo of the little red +line—and said to me:</p> + +<p>"'You, M. de La Roche-Targé, is it you? What +are you doing there? What has happened to you?'</p> + +<p>"I frankly confessed my fall.</p> + +<p>"'At least you are not wounded?'</p> + +<p>"'No, no, I'm not wounded. I've something the +matter with that leg; but it's nothing serious, I +know.'</p> + +<p>"'And what horse played you that trick?'</p> + +<p>"'Why, this one.'</p> + +<p>"And I pointed out Brutus to Mme. de Noriolis. +Brutus was there, quite near us, untied, peacefully +crunching little tufts of broom.</p> + +<p>"'What, that one, that brave horse? Oh, he has +well made up for his faults, I assure you. I will +tell you about it, but later on. You must first get +home, and at once.'</p> + +<p>"'I can't walk a step.'</p> + +<p>"'But I am going to take you back myself, at the +risk of compromising you.'</p> + +<p>"And she called Bob, her little groom, and taking +me gently by the arm, while Bob took me by the +other, she made me get into her carriage; five minutes +later we were bowling off, both of us, in the +direction of La Roche-Targé: she, holding the reins +and driving the pony with a light hand; I, looking +at her, feeling troubled, confused, embarrassed, +ridiculous, and stupid. We were alone in the carriage. +Bob was commissioned to bring Brutus, +who, very docile, had allowed himself to be taken.</p> + +<p>"'Lie down,' Mme. de Noriolis said to me; 'keep +your leg straight; I am going to drive you slowly +so as to avoid bumps.'</p> + +<p>"In short, she made a lot of little amiable and +pleasant remarks; then, when she saw me well settled, +she said:</p> + +<p>"'Tell me how you came to fall, and then I will +tell you how I happened to come to your aid. It +seems to me this horse story must be queer.'</p> + +<p>"I began my tale; but as soon as I spoke of +Brutus's efforts to unhorse me, and the two reports +of the gun, she exclaimed:</p> + +<p>"'I understand, I understand. You have bought +a circus charger.'</p> + +<p>"'A circus charger!'</p> + +<p>"'Why, yes; that's it, and that explains everything. +You have seen twenty times at the Circus of +the Empress the performance of the circus charger—the +light-cavalryman who enters the arena on a +gray horse, then the Arabs come and shoot at the +cavalryman, who is wounded and falls; and as you +didn't fall, the horse, indignant and not understanding +how you could so far forget your part, threw +you on the ground. And when you were on the +ground, what did the horse do?'</p> + +<p>"I related Brutus's little work in burying me suitably.</p> + +<p>"'The circus charger,' she continued; 'still the +circus charger. He sees his master wounded, the +Arabs could come back and finish him, and so what +does the horse do? He buries the cavalryman. +Then goes off galloping, didn't he?'</p> + +<p>"'Yes, on a hard gallop,'</p> + +<p>"'Carrying the flag, which is not to fall into the +hands of the Arabs.'</p> + +<p>"'It's my hat that he took.'</p> + +<p>"'He took what he could. And where does the +circus charger gallop to?'</p> + +<p>"'Ah! I know, I know,' I exclaimed, in my turn, +'he goes to get the sutler.'</p> + +<p>"'Precisely. He goes to get the sutler; and the +sutler to-day, if you please, is I, Countess of Noriolis. +Your big gray horse galloped into my grounds. +I was standing on the porch, putting on my gloves +and ready to step into my carriage, when the stablemen +came running, upon seeing that horse arrive +saddled and bridled, without a rider, and a +hat in his mouth. They tried to catch him, but +he shunned them and escaped, and came straight +to the porch, falling on his knees before me. The +men approached, and once more tried to catch him; +but he got up, galloped away, stopped by the gate +of the grounds, turned around, and looked at me. +He called to me—I assure you, he called to me. I +told the men not to bother about the horse any +more. Then I jumped into my carriage and started; +the horse rushed into the woods; post-haste I followed +him by paths that were not always intended +for carriages; but still I followed him, and I arrived +and found you.'</p> + +<p>"At the moment Mme. de Noriolis was speaking +those last words the carriage received a tremendous +shock from behind; then we saw in the air Brutus's +head, which was held there upright as though by a +miracle. For it was again Brutus. Mounted by +Bob, he had followed the carriage for several minutes, +and seeing that the back seat of the little pony-carriage +was unoccupied, he had, like a true artist, +cleverly seized the moment to give us a new proof +of his talent in executing the most brilliant of his +former performances. In one jump he had placed +his fore-feet on the carriage, then, that done, he +quietly continued trotting on his two hind-legs. +Bob, distracted, with his body thrown over and his +head thrown back, was making vain attempts to put +the horse back on his four legs.</p> + +<p>"As to Mme. de Noriolis, she was so well frightened, +that, letting the reins drop from her hands, +she had simply thrown herself in my arms. Her +adorable little head had rolled hap-hazard on my +shoulder, and my lips just touched her hair. With +my left hand I tried to recover the reins, with my +right I supported Mme. de Noriolis; my leg hurt +me frightfully, and I was seized with a queer feeling +of confusion.</p> + +<p>"It was thus that Mme. de Noriolis made her +first entry into La Roche-Targé.</p> + +<p>"When she returned there, one evening at midnight, +six weeks later, having during the day become +Mme. de La Roche-Targé, she said:</p> + +<p>"'What is life, after all? Nothing like this would +have happened if you hadn't bought the circus +charger.'"</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="BLACKY" id="BLACKY"></a>BLACKY</h2> + + +<p>"Don't be alarmed, sir; you won't miss the +train. For the last fifteen years I've been carrying +travellers to the station, and I've never yet missed +a train! Think of that, sir; never!"</p> + +<p>"But—"</p> + +<p>"Oh, don't look at your watch. There is one +thing you don't know and that you must learn, +and that your watch will never be able to tell you—that +is, that the train is always a quarter of an +hour late. Such a thing as the train's being on +time has never happened."</p> + +<p>Such a thing happened that day, however, for +the train was on time, and so I missed it. My +driver was furious.</p> + +<p>"You should warn us," he said to the station-master, +"if your trains are suddenly going to start +at the right hour. Who ever saw the like!"</p> + +<p>And he turned to one or two of the porters for +witnesses.</p> + +<p>"Did you ever see such a thing? I don't wish +to appear blamable before the gentleman. A train +on time—on time! You know it's the first time it +has ever happened."</p> + +<p>There was a general cry of "Yes, indeed; usually +there's some delay." But, for all that, I had none +the less three long hours to pass in a very desolate +village (in the Canton of Vaud) shut in by two +sad-looking mountains, which had their little topknots +covered with snow.</p> + +<p>But how kill three hours? In my turn I now +asked advice, and again there was a chorus of +"Go see the Caldron; that's the only sight to be +seen in this part of the country." "And where +is this Caldron?" On the mountain, to the right, +half way up; but the path was a little complicated, +and I was advised to take a guide; and there, +over there in that white cottage with green blinds, +I would find the best guide there was about here, +an honest man—Old Simon.</p> + +<p>So I went and knocked at the door of the little +house.</p> + +<p>An old woman opened it.</p> + +<p>"Simon, the guide?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, right here; but—if it's to go to the Caldron—"</p> + +<p>"It is to go to the Caldron."</p> + +<p>"Well, Simon hasn't been very well since morning; +he hasn't much strength, and he can't go +out. But don't worry yourself; there is some one +who can replace him—there is Blacky."</p> + +<p>"All right, let it be Blacky, then."</p> + +<p>"Only I must tell you that Blacky isn't a person."</p> + +<p>"Not a person?"</p> + +<p>"No, he's our dog."</p> + +<p>"A dog? What do you mean?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, Blacky; and he will guide you very well—quite +as well as my husband. He is in the habit +of—"</p> + +<p>"In the habit?"</p> + +<p>"Certainly; for years and years Simon took him +along, so he learned the different places, and now +he does very well all by himself. He has often +taken travellers, and we have always been complimented +about him. As for intelligence, don't be +afraid—he has as much as you or I. He needs +only speech, but speech isn't required. If it was +to show a monument, now—why, yes, for then it +would be necessary to give some account and know +the historical dates; but here there are only the +beauties of nature. Take Blacky, and it will be +cheaper also; my husband would cost three francs, +whereas Blacky is only thirty sous, and he will +show you as much for thirty sous as my husband +would for three francs."</p> + +<p>"Very well; and where is Blacky?"</p> + +<p>"He is resting in the sun, in the garden. Already +this morning he has taken some English +people to the Caldron. Shall I call him?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, call him."</p> + +<p>"Blacky! Blacky!"</p> + +<p>He came with a leap through the window. He +was a rather ugly-looking little dog, with long frizzy +hair, all mussed; he wasn't much to look at, but he +had, however, about him a certain air of gravity, +resolution, and importance. His first glance was +at me—a clear, searching, confident look that took +me in from head to toe, and that seemed to say, +"It's a traveller, and he wants to see the Caldron."</p> + +<p>One train missed sufficed me for that day, and I +was particularly anxious not to lay myself open to +another such experience, so I explained to the +good woman that I had only three hours for my +visit to the Caldron.</p> + +<p>"Oh, I know," she said; "you wish to take the +four-o'clock train. Don't be alarmed; Blacky will +bring you back in time. Now then, Blacky, off +with you; hurry up!"</p> + +<p>But Blacky didn't seem at all disposed to mind. +He stayed there motionless, looking at his mistress +with a certain uneasiness.</p> + +<p>"Ah, how stupid of me!" said the old woman. +"I forgot the sugar;" and she went to get four +pieces of sugar from a drawer, and gave them to +me, saying: "That's why he wouldn't start; you +had no sugar. You see, Blacky, the gentleman +has the sugar. Now then, run along with you, +sir, to the Caldron! to the Caldron! to the Caldron!"</p> + +<p>She repeated these last words three times, slowly +and distinctly, and during that time I was closely +examining Blacky. He acknowledged the words +of his mistress with little movements of the head, +which rapidly became more emphatic, and towards +the end he evinced some temper and impatience. +They could be interpreted thus: "Yes, yes, to the +Caldron—I understand. The gentleman has the +pieces of sugar, and we are going to the Caldron—it's +settled. Do you take me for a fool?"</p> + +<p>And, without waiting for Mme. Simon's third +"To the Caldron!" Blacky, evidently hurt, turned +tail, came and placed himself in front of me, and +by his look showed me the door, which told me as +plainly as a dog can tell, "Now then, come along, +you!"</p> + +<p>I meekly followed him. We two started, he in +front, I behind. In this manner we went through +the entire village. The children who were playing +in the street recognized my guide.</p> + +<p>"Hello, Blacky! good-morning, Blacky!" They +wanted to play with the dog, but he turned his +head with a disdainful air—the air of a dog who +hasn't the time to answer himself, and who is +doing his duty and earning thirty sous. One of +the children exclaimed:</p> + +<p>"Leave him alone; don't you see he is taking +the gentleman to the Caldron? Good-day, sir!"</p> + +<p>And all repeated, laughing, "Good-day, sir!"</p> + +<p>I smiled rather awkwardly; I am sure I felt +embarrassed, even a little humiliated. I was, in fact, +under the lead of that animal. He, for the present, +was my master. He knew where he was going; +I did not. I was in a hurry to get out of the village +and find myself alone with Blacky and face to +face with the beauties of nature that he had been +commissioned to show me.</p> + +<p>These beauties of nature were, at the beginning, +a fearfully hot and dusty road, on which the sun +fell with full force. The dog walked with a brisk +step, and I was getting tired following him. I +tried to slacken his gait. "Come, I say, Blacky, +my friend, not so quickly." But Blacky turned a +deaf ear, and continued, without listening to me, +his little trot. He was taken suddenly with a real +fit of anger when I wished to sit down in the corner +of a field, under a tree that gave a meagre +shade. He barked furiously, and cast on me outraged +looks; evidently what I was doing was +against the rule. He was not in the habit of +stopping there, and his barks were so piercing +and annoying that I rose to continue on my way. +Blacky became calm at once, and walked placidly +in front of me—I had understood him, and he was +satisfied.</p> + +<p>Shortly afterwards we entered a delightful path, +in full blossom, shady, sweet-smelling, and filled +with freshness and the murmur of springs. Blacky +immediately entered the wood, took to his heels, +and disappeared in the little footway. I followed, +slightly out of breath, and had not gone a hundred +steps when I found Blacky waiting for me, with +head erect and bright eyes, in a clearing enlivened +by the tinkle of a tiny cascade. There was there +an old rustic bench, and Blacky looked impatiently +from me to the seat and from the seat to me. I +was beginning to understand Blacky's language.</p> + +<p>"There now," he said to me, "here is indeed a +place to rest in. It's nice and cool here; but you +were so stupid, you wanted to stop in the sun. +Come on, now; sit down; you really can sit down. +I will allow you."</p> + +<p>I stopped, sat down, and lit a cigar, and came +near offering one to Blacky; perhaps he smoked. +But I thought he would prefer a piece of sugar. +He caught it on the fly very cleverly, and crunched +it with enjoyment. Then he lay down and took a +nap at my feet. He was evidently accustomed to +a little siesta at this place.</p> + +<p>He slept barely ten minutes I was, however, +perfectly easy, for Blacky began to inspire me with +absolute confidence, and I was determined to obey +him blindly. He got up, stretched himself, and +threw me a glance that meant, "Come along, my +friend, come along." And, like two old friends, +we set off slowly. Blacky was enjoying the silence +and the sweetness of the place. On the road, previously, +being in a hurry, he had walked with an +abrupt, sturdy, hurried step—he was walking to +get there; but now, refreshed and revived, Blacky +was walking for the pleasure of a promenade in one +of the prettiest paths in the Canton of Vaud.</p> + +<p>Presently a side path appeared, leading off to the +left; there was a short hesitation on the part of +Blacky, who reflected, and then passed it, continuing +on his way straight ahead, but not without +some doubt and uncertainty in his manner. Then +he stopped; he must have made some mistake. +Yes; for he retraced his steps, and we took the +turning to the left, which, at the end of a hundred +feet, led into an open circular space, and Blacky, +with his nose in the air, invited me to contemplate +the highly respectable height of the lofty rocks +which formed this circle. When Blacky thought +I had seen sufficient, he turned around, and we +went on again in the path through the woods. +Blacky had forgotten to show me the circle of +rocks—a slight error quickly repaired.</p> + +<p>The road soon became very mountainous, broken, +and difficult, and I advanced slowly and with many +precautions. As to Blacky, he sprang lightly from +rock to rock, but did not forsake me. He waited +and fixed his eyes on me with the most touching +solicitude. At last I began to hear a rushing of +water; Blacky commenced barking joyously.</p> + +<p>"Courage!" he said to me; "courage! We are +nearly there; you will soon see the Caldron."</p> + +<p>It was in truth the Caldron. From a short +height a modest stream fell, splashing and rebounding +on a large rock slightly hollowed. I +should never have been consoled for such a steep +climb to see such a small sight if I had not had +brave little Blacky for a companion. He, at least, +was much more interesting and marvellous than the +Caldron. On either side of the fall, in little Swiss +chalets, were two dairy-maids; one was a blonde +and the other a brunette; both were in their national +dress, and were eagerly on the lookout for my coming, +standing on the door-steps of their tiny houses—little +wooden boxes, seemingly cut out by machine.</p> + +<p>It seemed to me that the blonde had very pretty +eyes, and I had already taken several steps towards +her when Blacky began to bark emphatically, and +resolutely barred the way. Could he have a preference +for the dark one? I walked in the other +direction. That was it; Blacky calmed down as +though by enchantment when he saw me seated +at a table in front of the house of his young protégée. +I asked for a cup of milk; Blacky's friend +entered her little toy house, and Blacky slipped in +at her feet. Through a half-open window I followed +him with my eyes. The wretch! He was +waited upon before I was. He it was who first +had his large bowl of milk. He had sold himself! +After which, with white drops on his mustache, +Blacky came to keep me company and look at me +drink my milk. I gave him a piece of sugar, and +both of us, absolutely satisfied with each other, +filled our lungs with the sharp air of the mountain. +We were at a height of about three or four hundred +yards. It was a delightful half-hour.</p> + +<p>Blacky began to show signs of impatience and +agitation. I could read him then like a book. It +was time to go. I paid, got up, and while I went +off to the right towards the path by which we came +to the mountain, I saw Blacky go and plant himself +on the left, at the opening of another path. He +gave me a serious and severe look. What progress +I had made during the last two hours, and how +familiar Blacky's eloquent silence had become!</p> + +<p>"What must you think of me?" said Blacky to +me. "Do you imagine I am going to take the +same path twice? No, indeed. I am a good +guide, and I know my business. We shall make +the descent another way."</p> + +<p>We went back by another road, which was much +prettier than the first. Blacky, quite sprightly, +often turned around to me with an air of triumphant +joy. We traversed the village, and at the station +Blacky was assailed by three or four dogs of +his acquaintance, who seemed desirous of a talk or +game with their comrade. They attempted to +block his way, but Blacky, grumbling and growling, +repulsed their advances.</p> + +<p>"Can't you see what I am doing? I am taking +this gentleman to the station."</p> + +<p>It was only in the waiting-room that he consented +to leave me, after having eaten with relish +the two last pieces of sugar. And this is how I +interpreted the farewell look of Blacky:</p> + +<p>"We are twenty minutes ahead of time. It isn't +I who would have let you lose the train. Well, +good-bye—pleasant journey!"</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="THE_MOST_BEAUTIFUL_WOMAN_IN_PARIS" id="THE_MOST_BEAUTIFUL_WOMAN_IN_PARIS"></a>THE MOST BEAUTIFUL WOMAN IN PARIS</h2> + + +<p>On Friday, April 19th, Prince Agénor was really +distracted at the opera during the second act of +"Sigurd." The prince kept going from box to box, +and his enthusiasm increased as he went.</p> + +<p>"That blonde! Oh, that blonde! She is ideal! +Look at that blonde! Do you know that blonde?"</p> + +<p>It was from the front part of Mme. de Marizy's +large first tier box that all these exclamations were +coming at that moment.</p> + +<p>"Which blonde?" asked Mme. de Marizy.</p> + +<p>"Which blonde! Why, there is but one this +evening in the house. Opposite to you, over there, +in the first box, the Sainte Mesme's box. Look, +baroness, look straight over there—"</p> + +<p>"Yes I am looking at her. She is atrociously +got up, but pretty—"</p> + +<p>"Pretty! She is a wonder! Simply a wonder! +Got up? Yes, agreed—some country relative. The +Sainte Mesmes have cousins in Périgord. But what +a smile! How well her neck is set on! And the slope +of the shoulders! Ah, especially the shoulders!"</p> + +<p>"Come, either keep still or go away. Let me +listen to Mme. Caron—"</p> + +<p>The prince went away, as no one knew that incomparable +blonde. Yet she had often been to the +opera, but in an unpretentious way—in the second +tier of boxes. And to Prince Agénor above the +first tier of boxes there was nothing, absolutely +nothing. There was emptiness—space. The prince +had never been in a second-tier box, so the second-tier +boxes did not exist.</p> + +<p>While Mme. Caron was marvellously singing the +marvellous phrase of Reyer, "<i>Ô mon sauveur silencieux +la Valkyrie est ta conquête</i>," the prince strolled +along the passages of the opera. Who was that +blonde? He wanted to know, and he would know.</p> + +<p>And suddenly he remembered that good Mme. +Picard was the box-opener of the Sainte Mesmes, +and that he, Prince of Nérins, had had the honor of +being for a long time a friend of that good Mme. +Picard. It was she who in the last years of the +Second Empire had taught him bezique in all its +varieties—Japanese, Chinese, etc. He was then +twenty, Mme. Picard was forty. She was not then +box-opener of the National Academy of Music; she +had in those times as office—and it was not a +sinecure—the position of aunt to a nice young +person who showed a very pretty face and a very +pretty pair of legs in the chorus of the <i>revues</i> of +the Variétée. And the prince, while quite young, +at the beginning of his life, had, for three or four +years, led a peaceful, almost domestic life, with the +aunt and niece. Then they went off one way and +he another.</p> + +<p>One evening at the opera, ten years later, in +handing his overcoat to a venerable-looking old +dame, Agénor heard himself saluted by the following +little speech:</p> + +<p>"Ah, how happy I am to see you again, prince! +And not changed—not at all changed. Still the +same, absolutely the same—still twenty."</p> + +<p>It was Mme. Picard, who had been raised to the +dignity of box-opener. They chatted, talked of +old times, and after that evening the prince never +passed Mme. Picard without greeting her. She +responded with a little deferential courtesy. She +was one of those people, becoming rarer and rarer +nowadays, who have the exact feeling for distances +and conventions. There was, however, a little remnant +of familiarity, almost of affection, in the way +in which she said "prince." This did not displease +Agénor; he had a very good recollection of Mme. +Picard.</p> + +<p>"Ah, prince," said Mme. Picard on seeing Agénor, +"there is no one for you to-night in <i>my</i> boxes. +Mme. de Simiane is not here, and Mme. de Sainte +Mesme has rented her box."</p> + +<p>"That's precisely it. Don't you know the people +in Mme. de Sainte Mesme's box?"</p> + +<p>"Not at all, prince. It's the first time I have +seen them in the marquise's box—"</p> + +<p>"Then you have no idea—"</p> + +<p>"None, prince. Only to me they don't appear +to be people of—"</p> + +<p>She was going to say of <i>our</i> set. A box-opener +of the first tier of boxes at the opera, having generally +only to do with absolutely high-born people, +considers herself as being a little of their set, and +shows extreme disdain for unimportant people; it +displeases her to receive these unimportant people +in <i>her</i> boxes. Mme. Picard, however, had tact +which rarely forsook her, and so stopped herself in +time to say:</p> + +<p>"People of <i>your</i> set. They belong to the middle +class, to the wealthy middle class; but still the middle +class. That doesn't satisfy you; you wish to +know more on account of the blonde. Is it not so, +prince?"</p> + +<p>Those last words were spoken with rare delicacy; +they were murmured more than spoken—box-opener +to a prince! It would have been unacceptable without +that perfect reserve in accent and tone; yes, it +was a box-opener who spoke, but a box-opener who +was a little bit the aunt of former times, the aunt +<i>à la mode de Cythère</i>. Mme. Picard continued:</p> + +<p>"Ah, she is a beauty! She came with a little +dark man—her husband, I'm sure; for while she +was taking off her cloak—it always takes some +time—he didn't say a word to her. No eagerness, +no little attentions. Yes, he could only be a husband. +I examined the cloak. People one doesn't +know puzzle me and <i>my</i> colleague. Mme. Flachet +and I always amuse ourselves by trying to guess +from appearances. Well, the cloak comes from a +good dress-maker, but not from a great one. It is +fine and well-made, but it has no style. I think +they are middle-class people, prince. But how +stupid I am! You know M. Palmer—well, a little +while ago he came to see the beautiful blonde!"</p> + +<p>"M. Palmer?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, and he can tell you."</p> + +<p>"Thanks, Mme. Picard, thanks—"</p> + +<p>"Good-bye, prince, good-bye," and Mme. Picard +went back to her stool, near her colleague, Mme. +Flachet, and said to her:</p> + +<p>"Ah, my dear, what a charming man the prince +is! True gentlefolks, there is nothing like them! +But they are dying out, they are dying out; there +are many less than formerly."</p> + +<p>Prince Agénor was willing to do Palmer—big Palmer, +rich Palmer, vain Palmer—the honor of being +one of his friends; he deigned, and very frequently, +to confide to Palmer his financial difficulties, +and the banker was delighted to come to his aid. +The prince had been obliged to resign himself to +becoming a member of two boards of directors +presided over by Palmer, who was much pleased at +having under obligations to him the representative +of one of the noblest families in France. Besides, +the prince proved himself to be a <i>good prince</i>, and +publicly acknowledged Palmer, showing himself in +his box, taking charge of his entertainments, and +occupying himself with his racing-stable. He had +even pushed his gratitude to the point of compromising +Mme. Palmer in the most showy way.</p> + +<p>"I am removing her from the middle class," he +said; "I owe it to Palmer, who is one of the best +fellows in the world."</p> + +<p>The prince found the banker alone in a lower +box.</p> + +<p>"What is the name—the name of that blonde in +the Sainte Mesme's box?"</p> + +<p>"Mme. Derline."</p> + +<p>"Is there a M. Derline?"</p> + +<p>"Certainly, a lawyer—my lawyer; the Sainte +Mesme's lawyer. And if you want to see Mme. +Derline close to, come to my ball next Thursday. +She will be there—"</p> + +<p>The wife of a lawyer!. She was only the wife of +a lawyer! The prince sat down in the front of the +box, opposite Mme. Derline, and while looking +at that lawyeress he was thinking. "Have I," he +said to himself, "sufficient credit, sufficient power, +to make of Mme. Derline the most beautiful woman +in Paris?"</p> + +<p>For there was always a <i>most beautiful woman in +Paris</i>, and it was he, Prince Agénor, who flattered +himself that he could discover, proclaim, crown, +and consecrate that most beautiful woman in Paris. +Launch Mme. Derline in society! Why not? He +had never launched any one from the middle class. +The enterprise would be new, amusing, and bold. +He looked at Mme. Derline through his opera-glass, +and discovered thousands of beauties and +perfections in her delightful face.</p> + +<p>After the opera, the prince, during the exit, +placed himself at the bottom of the great staircase. +He had enlisted two of his friends. "Come," he +had said to them, "I will show you the most beautiful +woman in Paris." While he was speaking, +two steps away from the prince was an alert young +man who was attached to a morning paper, a very +widely-read paper. The young man had sharp +ears, he caught on the fly the phrase of the Prince +Agénor, whose high social position he knew; he +succeeded in keeping close to the prince, and when +Mme. Derline passed, the young reporter had the +gift of hearing the conversation, without losing +a word, of the three brilliant noblemen. A quarter +of an hour later he arrived at the office of the +paper.</p> + +<p>"Is there time," he asked, "to write a dozen lines +in the <i>Society Note-book</i>?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, but hurry."</p> + +<p>The young man was a quick writer; the fifteen +lines were done in the twinkling of an eye. They +brought seven francs fifty to the reporter, but cost +M. Derline a little more than that.</p> + +<p>During this time Prince Agénor, seated in the +club at the whist-table, was saying, while shuffling +the cards:</p> + +<p>"This evening at the opera there was a marvellous +woman, a certain Mme. Derline. She is the +most beautiful woman in Paris!"</p> + +<p>The following morning, in the gossip-corner of +the Bois, in the spring sunshine, the prince, surrounded +by a little group of respectful disciples, +was solemnly delivering from the back of his roan +mare the following opinion:</p> + +<p>"Listen well to what I say. The most beautiful +woman in Paris is a certain Mme. Derline. This +star will be visible Thursday evening at the Palmer's. +Go, and don't forget the name—Mme. +Derline."</p> + +<p>The disciples dispersed, and went abroad spreading +the great news.</p> + +<p>Mme. Derline had been admirably brought up +by an irreproachable mother; she had been taught +that she ought to get up in the morning, keep a +strict account of her expenses, not go to a great +dress-maker, believe in God, love her husband, visit +the poor, and never spend but half her income in +order to prepare dowries for her daughters. Mme. +Derline performed all these duties. She led a +peaceful and serene life in the old house (in the +Rue Dragon) which had sheltered, since 1825, three +generations of Derlines; the husbands had all three +been lawyers, the wives had all three been virtuous. +The three generations had passed there a happy +and moderate life, never having any great pleasures, +but, also, never being very bored.</p> + +<p>The next day at eight o'clock in the morning +Mme. Derline awoke with an uneasy feeling. She +had passed a troubled night—she, who usually slept +like a child. The evening before at the opera, in +the box, Mme. Derline had vaguely felt that something +was going on around her. And during the +entire last act an opera-glass, obstinately fixed on +her—the prince's opera-glass—had thrown her +into a certain agitation, not disagreeable, however. +She wore a low dress—too much so, in her mother's +opinion—and two or three times, under the fixity +of that opera-glass, she had raised the shoulder-straps +of her dress.</p> + +<p>So, after opening her eyes, Mme. Derline reclosed +them lazily, indolently, with thoughts floating +between dreamland and reality. She again +saw the opera-house, and a hundred, two hundred, +five hundred opera-glasses obstinately fixed on her—on +her alone.</p> + +<p>The maid entered, placed a tray on a little table, +made up a big fire in the fire-place, and went away. +There was a cup of chocolate and the morning paper +on the tray, the same as every morning. Then Mme. +Derline courageously got up, slipped her little +bare feet into fur slippers, wrapped herself in a +white cashmere dressing-gown, and crouched shivering +in an arm-chair by the fire. She sipped the +chocolate, and slightly burned herself; she must +wait a little while. She put down the cup, took up +the paper, unfolded it, and rapidly ran her eye +over the six columns of the front page. At the +bottom, quite at the bottom of the sixth column, +were the following lines:</p> + +<blockquote><p><i>Last evening at the opera there was a very brilliant +performance of "Sigurd." Society was well represented +there; the beautiful Duchess of Montaiglon, the +pretty Countess Verdinière of Lardac, the marvellous +Marquise of Muriel, the lively Baroness of</i>—</p></blockquote> + +<p>To read the name of the baroness it was necessary +to turn the page. Mme. Derline did not turn +it; she was thinking, reflecting. The evening before +she had amused herself by having Palmer point out +to her the social leaders in the house, and it so +happened that the banker had pointed out to her +the marvellous marquise. And Mme. Derline—who +was twenty-two—raised herself a little to look in the +glass. She exchanged a slight smile with a young +blonde, who was very pink and white.</p> + +<p>"Ah," she said to herself, "if I were a marquise +the man who wrote this would perhaps have paid +some attention to me, and my name would perhaps +be there. I wonder if it's fun to see one's name +printed in a paper?"</p> + +<p>And while addressing this question to herself, she +turned the page, and continued reading:</p> + +<blockquote><p>—<i>the lively Baroness of Myrvoix, etc. We have +to announce the appearance of a new star which has +abruptly burst forth in the Parisian constellation. +The house was in ecstasy over a strange and disturbing +blonde, whose dark steel eyes, and whose shoulders—ah, +what shoulders! The shoulders were the event +of the evening. From all quarters one heard asked, +"Who is she?" "Who is she?" "To whom do +those divine shoulders belong?" "To whom?" We +know, and our readers will doubtless thank us for telling +them the name of this ideal wonder. It is Mme. +Derline.</i></p></blockquote> + +<p>Her name! She had read her name! She was +dazzled. Her eyes clouded. All the letters in +the alphabet began to dance wildly on the paper. +Then they calmed down, stopped, and regained +their places. She was able to find her name, and +continue reading;</p> + +<blockquote><p><i>It is Mme. Derline, the wife of one of the most +agreeable and richest lawyers in Paris. The Prince +of Nérins, whose word has so much weight in such +matters, said yesterday evening to every one who would +listen, "She is the most beautiful woman in Paris." +We are absolutely of that opinion.</i></p></blockquote> + +<p>A single paragraph, and that was all. It was +enough, it was too much! Mme Derline was seized +with a feeling of undefinable confusion. It was +a combination of fear and pleasure, of joy and +trouble, of satisfied vanity and wounded modesty. +Her dressing-gown was a little open; she folded it +over with a sort of violence, and crossed it upon, +her feet, abruptly drawn back towards the arm-chair. +She had a feeling of nudity. It seemed to +her that all Paris was there, in her room, and that +the Prince de Nérins was in front saying to all Paris, +"Look, look! She is the most beautiful woman in +Paris."</p> + +<p>The Prince of Nérins! She knew the name +well, for she read with keen interest in the papers +all the articles entitled "<i>Parisian Life</i>," "<i>High +Life</i>," "<i>Society Echoes</i>," etc.; and all the society +columns signed "<i>Mousseline</i>," "<i>Fanfreluche</i>," "<i>Brimborion</i>," +"<i>Véloutine</i>"; all the accounts of great marriages, +great balls, of great comings out, and of +great charity sales. The name of the prince often +figured in these articles, and he was always quoted +as supreme arbiter of Parisian elegances.</p> + +<p>And it was he who had declared—ah!—decidedly +pleasure got the better of fear. Still trembling with +emotion, Mme. Derline went and placed herself +before a long looking-glass, an old cheval-glass +from Jacob's, which never till now had reflected +other than good middle-class women married to +good lawyers. In that glass she looked at herself, +examined herself, studied herself, long, curiously, +and eagerly. Of course she knew she was pretty, +but oh, the power of print! She found herself absolutely +delightful. She was no longer Mme. +Derline—she was the most beautiful woman in Paris! +Her feet, her little feet—their bareness no longer +troubled her—left the ground. She raised herself +gently towards the heavens, towards the clouds, and +felt herself become a goddess.</p> + +<p>But suddenly an anxiety seized her. "Edward! +What would Edward say?" Edward was her husband. +There had been but one man's surname in +her life—her husband's. The lawyer was well loved! +And almost at the same moment when she was asking +herself what Edward would say, Edward abruptly +opened the door.</p> + +<p>He was a little out of breath. He had run up-stairs +two at a time. He was peacefully rummaging +among old papers in his study on the ground-floor +when one of his brother-lawyers, with forced congratulations, +however, had made him read the famous +article. He had soon got rid of his brother-lawyer, +and he had come, much irritated, to his +room. At first there was simply a torrent of words.</p> + +<p>"Why do these journalists meddle? It's an outrage! +Your name—look, there is your name in this +paper!"</p> + +<p>"Yes, I know, I've seen—"</p> + +<p>"Ah, you know, you have seen—and you think +it quite natural!"</p> + +<p>"But, dear—"</p> + +<p>"What times do we live in? It's your fault, too."</p> + +<p>"My fault!"</p> + +<p>"Yes, your fault!"</p> + +<p>"And how?"</p> + +<p>"Your dress last night was too low, much too +low. Besides, your mother told you so—"</p> + +<p>"Oh, mamma—"</p> + +<p>"You needn't say 'Oh, mamma!' Your mother +was right. There, read: 'And whose shoulders—ah, +what shoulders!' And it is of your shoulders +they are speaking. And that prince who dares to +award you a prize for beauty!"</p> + +<p>The good man had plebeian, Gothical ideas—the +ideas of a lawyer of old times, of a lawyer of the +Rue Dragon; the lawyers of the Boulevard Malesherbes +are no longer like that.</p> + +<p>Mme. Derline very gently, very quietly, brought +the rebel back to reason. Of course there was charm +and eloquence in her speech, but how much more +charm and eloquence in the tenderness of her +glance and smile.</p> + +<p>Why this great rage and despair? He was accused +of being the husband of the most beautiful +woman in Paris. Was that such a horrible thing, +such a terrible misfortune? And who was the +brother-lawyer, the good brother-lawyer, who had +taken pleasure in coming to show him the hateful +article?</p> + +<p>"M. Renaud."</p> + +<p>"Oh, it was M. Renaud—dear M. Renaud!"</p> + +<p>Thereupon Mme. Derline was seized with a +hearty fit of laughter; so much so that the blond +hair, which had been loosely done up, came down +and framed the pretty face from which gleamed the +dark eyes which could also, when they gave themselves +the trouble, look very gentle, very caressing, +very loving.</p> + +<p>"Oh, it was M. Renaud, the husband of that +delightful Mme. Renaud! Well, do you know what +you will do immediately, without losing a minute? +Go to the president of the Tribunal and ask for +a divorce. You will say to him: 'M. Aubépin, deliver +me from my wife. Her crime is being pretty, +very pretty, too pretty. I wish another one who +is ugly, very ugly, who has Mme. Renaud's large +nose, colossal foot, pointed chin, skinny shoulders, +and eternal pimples.' That's what you want, isn't +it? Come, you big stupid, kiss your poor wife, and +forgive her for not being a monster."</p> + +<p>As rather lively gestures had illustrated this little +speech, the white cashmere dressing-gown had +slipped—slipped a good deal, and had opened, very +much opened; the criminal shoulders were within +reach of M. Derline's lips—he succumbed. Besides, +he too felt the abominable influence of the +press. His wife had never seemed so pretty to +him, and, brought back to subjection, M. Derline +returned to his study in order to make money for +the most beautiful woman in Paris.</p> + +<p>A very wise and opportune occupation; for scarcely +was Mme. Derline left alone when an idea +flashed through her head which was to call forth +a very pretty collection of bank-notes from the cash-box +of the lawyer of the Rue Dragon. Mme. +Derline had intended wearing to the Palmer's ball +a dress which had already been much seen. Mme. +Derline had kept the dress-maker of her wedding-dress, +her mother's dress-maker, a dress-maker +of the Left Bank. It seemed to her that her new +position imposed new duties on her. She could +not appear at the Palmer's without a dress which +had not been seen, and stamped with a well-known +name. She ordered the carriage in the afternoon, +and resolutely gave her coachman the address of +one of the most illustrious dress-makers in Paris. +She arrived a little agitated, and to reach the great +artist was obliged to pass through a veritable crowd +of footmen, who were in the antechamber chatting +and laughing, used to meeting there and making +long stops. Nearly all the footmen were those of +society, the highest society; they had spent the +previous evening together at the English Embassy, +and were to be that evening at the Duchess of Grémoille.</p> + +<p>Mme. Derline entered a sumptuous parlor; it +was very sumptuous, too sumptuous. Twenty great +customers were there—society women and actresses, +all agitated, anxious, feverish—looking at the beautiful +tall saleswomen come and go before them, +wearing the last creations of the master of the +house. The great artist had a diplomatic bearing: +buttoned-up black frock-coat, long cravat with pin +(a present from a royal highness who paid her +bills slowly), and a many-colored rosette in his +button-hole (the gift of a small reigning prince +who paid slower yet the bills of an opera-dancer). +He came and went—precise, calm, and cool—in +the midst of the solicitations and supplications of +his customers. "M. Arthur! M. Arthur!" One +heard nothing but that phrase. He was M. Arthur. +He went from one to the other—respectful, without +too much humility, to the duchesses, and easy, +without too much familiarity, to the actresses. +There was an extraordinary liveliness, and a confusion +of marvellous velvets, satins, and embroidered, +brocaded, and gold or silver threaded stuffs, +all thrown here and there, as though by accident—but +what science in that accident—on arm-chairs, +tables, and divans.</p> + +<p>In the first place Mme. Derline ran against a +shop-girl who was bearing with outstretched arms +a white dress, and was almost hidden beneath a +light mountain of muslins and laces. The only +thing visible was the shop-girl's mussed black +hair and sly suburban expression. Mme. Derline +backed away, wishing to place herself against the, +wall; but a tryer-on was there, a large energetic brunette, +who spoke authoritatively in a high staccato. +"At once," she was saying—"bring me at once +the princess's dress!"</p> + +<p>Frightened and dazed, Mme. Derline stood in +a corner and watched an opportunity to seize a +saleswoman on the fly. She even thought of giving +up the game. Never, certainly, should she +dare to address directly that terrible M. Arthur, +who had just given her a rapid glance in which +she believed to have read, "Who is she? She +isn't properly dressed! She doesn't go to a fashionable +dress-maker!" At last Mme. Derline +succeeded in getting hold of a disengaged saleswoman, +and there was the same slightly disdainful +glance—a glance which was accompanied by the +phrase:</p> + +<p>"Madame is not a regular customer of the +house?"</p> + +<p>"No, I am not a customer—"</p> + +<p>"And you wish?"</p> + +<p>"A dress, a ball-dress—and I want the dress +for next Thursday evening—"</p> + +<p>"Thursday next!"</p> + +<p>"Yes, Thursday next."</p> + +<p>"Oh! madame, it is not to be thought of. +Even for a customer of the house it would be impossible."</p> + +<p>"But I wished it so much—"</p> + +<p>"Go and see M. Arthur. He alone can—"</p> + +<p>"And where is M. Arthur?"</p> + +<p>"In his office. He has just gone into his office. +Over there, madame, opposite."</p> + +<p>Mme. Derline, through a half-open door, saw a +sombre and severe but luxurious room—an ambassador's +office. On the walls the great European +powers were represented by photographs—the +Empress Eugénie, the Princess of Wales, a +grand-duchess of Russia, and an archduchess +of Austria. M. Arthur was there taking a few +moments' rest, seated in a large arm-chair, with +an air of lassitude and exhaustion, and with a +newspaper spread out over his knees. He arose +on seeing Mme. Derline enter. In a trembling +voice she repeated her wish.</p> + +<p>"Oh, madame, a ball-dress—a beautiful ball-dress—for +Thursday! I couldn't make such a promise—I +couldn't keep it. There are responsibilities +to which I never expose myself."</p> + +<p>He spoke slowly, gravely, as a man conscious +of his high position.</p> + +<p>"Oh, I am so disappointed. It was a particular +occasion and I was told that you alone +could—"</p> + +<p>Two tears, two little tears, glittered on her eye-lashes. +M. Arthur was moved. A woman, a +pretty woman, crying there, before him! Never +had such homage been paid to his genius.</p> + +<p>"Well, madame, I am willing to make an attempt. +A very simple dress—"</p> + +<p>"Oh no, not simple. Very brilliant, on the contrary—everything +that is most brilliant. Two of +my friends are customers of yours (she named +them), and I am Mme. Derline—"</p> + +<p>"Mme. Derline! You are Mme. Derline?"</p> + +<p>The two <i>Mme. Derlines</i> were followed by a +glance and a smile—the glance was at the newspaper +and the smile was at Mme. Derline; but it +was a discreet, self-contained smile—the smile of +a perfectly gallant man. This is what the glance +and smile said with admirable clearness:</p> + +<p>"Ah I you are Mme. Derline—that already celebrated +Mme. Derline—who yesterday at the opera—I +understand, I understand—I was reading just +now in this paper—words are no longer necessary—you +should have told your name at once—yes, +you need me; yes, you shall have your dress; +yes, I want to divide your success with you."</p> + +<p>M. Arthur called:</p> + +<p>"Mademoiselle Blanche, come here at once! +Mademoiselle Blanche!"</p> + +<p>And turning towards Mme. Derline, he said:</p> + +<p>"She has great talent, but I shall myself superintend +it; so be easy—yes, I myself."</p> + +<p>Mme. Derline was a little confused, a little embarrassed +by her glory, but happy nevertheless. +Mademoiselle Blanche came forward.</p> + +<p>"Conduct madame," said M. Arthur, "and +take the necessary measures for a ball-dress, +very low, and with absolutely bare arms. During +that time, madame, I am going to think seriously +of what I can do for you. It must be something +entirely new—ah! before going, permit me—"</p> + +<p>He walked very slowly around Mme. Derline, +and examined her with profound attention; then +he walked away, and considered her from a little +distance. His face was serious, thoughtful, and +anxious. A great thinker wrestling with a great +problem. He passed his hand over his forehead, +raised his eyes to the sky, getting inspiration by +a painful delivery; but suddenly his face lit up—the +spirit from above had answered.</p> + +<p>"Go, madame," he said, "go. Your dress is +thought out. When you come back, mademoiselle, +bring me that piece of pink satin; you know, the +one that I was keeping for some great occasion."</p> + +<p>Thus Mme. Derline found herself with Mademoiselle +Blanche in a trying-on room, which was +a sort of little cabin lined with mirrors. A quarter +of an hour later, when the measures had been taken, +Mme. Derline came back and discovered M. Arthur +in the midst of pieces of satin of all colors, of +crêpes, of tulles, of laces, and of brocaded stuffs.</p> + +<p>"No, no, not the pink satin," he said to Mademoiselle +Blanche, who was bringing the asked-for +piece; "no, I have found something better. +Listen to me. This is what I wish: I have +given up the pink, and I have decided on this, this +peach-colored satin. A classic robe, outlining all +the fine lines and showing the suppleness of the +body. This robe must be very clinging—hardly +any underskirts. It must be of surah. Madame +must be melted into it—do you thoroughly understand?—absolutely +melted into the robe. We will +drop over the dress this crêpe—yes, that one, but +in small, light pleats. The crêpe will be as a cloud +thrown over the dress—a transparent, vapory, impalpable +cloud. The arms are to be absolutely +bare, as I already told you. On each shoulder +there must be a simple knot, showing the upper +part of the arm. Of what is the knot to be? I'm +still undecided—I need to think it over—till to-morrow, +madame, till to-morrow."</p> + +<p>Mme. Derline came back the next day, and the +next, and every day till the day before the famous +Thursday; and each time that she came back, +while awaiting her turn to try on, she ordered +dresses, very simple ones, but yet costing from +seven to eight hundred francs each.</p> + +<p>And that was not all. On the day of her first +visit to M. Arthur, when Mme. Derline came out +of the great house, she was broken-hearted—positively +broken-hearted—at the sight of her brougham; +it really did make a pitiful appearance among +all the stylish carriages which were waiting in three +rows and taking up half the street. It was the +brougham of her late mother-in-law, and it still +rolled through the streets of Paris after fifteen +years' service. Mme. Derline got into the woe-begone +brougham to drive straight to a very well-known +carriage-maker, and that evening, cleverly +seizing the psychological moment, she explained +to M. Derline that she had seen a certain little +black coupé lined with blue satin that would frame +delightfully her new dresses.</p> + +<p>The coupé was bought the next day by M. +Derline, who also was beginning fully to realize +the extent of his new duties. But the next day it +was discovered that it was impossible to harness +to that jewel of a coupé the old horse who had +pulled the old carriage, and no less impossible to +put on the box the old coachman who drove the +old horse.</p> + +<p>This is how on Thursday, April 25th, at half-past +ten in the evening, a very pretty chestnut +mare, driven by a very correct English coachman, +took M. and Mme. Derline to the Palmer's. They +still lacked something—a little groom to sit beside +the English coachman. But a certain amount of +discretion had to be employed. The most beautiful +woman in Paris intended to wait ten days before +asking for the little groom.</p> + +<p>While she was going up-stairs at the Palmer's, +she distinctly felt her heart beat like the strokes of +a hammer. She was going to play a decisive game. +She knew that the Palmers had been going everywhere, +saying, "Come on Thursday; we will show +you Mme. Derline, the most beautiful woman in +Paris." Curiosity as well as jealousy had been +well awakened.</p> + +<p>She entered, and from the first minute she had +the delicious sensation of her success. Throughout +the long gallery of the Palmer's house it was a +true triumphal march. She advanced with firm +and precise step, erect, and head well held. She +appeared to see nothing, to hear nothing, but how +well she saw! how well she felt, the fire of all those +eyes on her shoulders! Around her arose a little +murmur of admiration, and never had music been +sweeter to her.</p> + +<p>Yes, decidedly, all went well. She was on a fair +way to conquer Paris. And, sure of herself, at +each step she became more confident, lighter, and +bolder, as she advanced on Palmer's arm, who, in +passing, pointed out the counts, the marquises, and +the dukes. And then Palmer suddenly said to her:</p> + +<p>"I want to present to you one of your greatest +admirers, who, the other night at the opera, spoke +of nothing but your beauty; he is the Prince of +Nérins."</p> + +<p>She became as red as a cherry. Palmer looked +at her and began to laugh.</p> + +<p>"Ah, you read the other day in that paper?"</p> + +<p>"I read—yes, I read—"</p> + +<p>"But where is the prince, where is he? I saw +him during the day, and he was to be here early."</p> + +<p>Mme. Derline was not to see the Prince of +Nérins that evening. And yet he had intended to +go to the Palmers and preside at the deification of +his lawyeress. He had dined at the club, and had +allowed himself to be dragged off to a first performance +at a minor theatre. An operetta of the +regulation type was being played. The principal +personage was a young queen, who was always +escorted by the customary four maids-of-honor.</p> + +<p>Three of these young ladies were very well +known to first-nighters, as having already figured +in the tableaux of operettas and in groups of +fairies, but the fourth—Oh, the fourth! She was +a new one, a tall brunette of the most striking +beauty. The prince made himself remarked more +than all others by his enthusiasm. He completely +forgot that he was to leave after the first act. The +play was over very late, and the prince was still +there, having paid no attention to the piece or the +music, having seen nothing but the wonderful +brunette, having heard nothing but the stanza +which she had unworthily massacred in the middle +of the second act. And while they were leaving +the theatre, the prince was saying to whoever +would listen:</p> + +<p>"That brunette! oh, that brunette! She hasn't +an equal in any theatre! She is the most beautiful +woman in Paris! The most beautiful!"</p> + +<p>It was one o'clock in the morning. The prince +asked himself if he should go to the Palmers. +Poor Mme. Derline; she was of very slight importance +beside this new wonder! And then, too, +the prince was a methodical man. The hour for +whist had arrived; so he departed to play whist.</p> + +<p>The following morning Mme. Derline found ten +lines on the Palmer's ball in the "society column." +There was mention of the marquises, the +countesses, and the duchesses who were there, but +about Mme. Derline there was not a word—not a +word.</p> + +<p>On the other hand, the writer of theatrical gossip +celebrated in enthusiastic terms the beauty of that +ideal maid-of-honor, and said, "<i>Besides, the Prince +of Nérins declared that Mademoiselle Miranda was +indisputedly the most beautiful woman in Paris!</i>"</p> + +<p>Mme. Derline threw the paper in the fire. She +did not wish her husband to know that she was +already not the most beautiful woman in Paris.</p> + +<p>She has, however, kept the great dress-maker +and the English coachman, but she never dared to +ask for the little groom.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="THE_STORY_OF_A_BALL_DRESS" id="THE_STORY_OF_A_BALL_DRESS"></a>THE STORY OF A BALL-DRESS</h2> + + +<p>When the women of the seventeenth and eighteenth +centuries write their memoirs they boldly +present themselves to the reader thus: "I have a +well-shaped mouth," said the Marquise of Courcelles, +"beautiful lips, pearly teeth, good forehead, +cheeks, and expression, finely chiselled throat, divine +hands, passable arms (that is to say, they are +a little thin); but I find consolation for that misfortune +in the fact that I have the prettiest legs in +the world."</p> + +<p>And I will follow the marquise's example. Here +is my portrait: Overskirt of white illusion trimmed +with fringe, and three flounces of blond alternating +with the fringe; court mantle of cherry silk +girt by a high flounce of white blond which falls +over the fringe and is caught up by Marie Antoinette +satin; two other flounces of blond are +placed behind at intervals above; on each side +from the waist up are facings composed of little +alternating flounces of blond, looped up with satin; +the big puff behind is bound by a flounce of white +blond. A little white waist, the front and shoulder-straps +of which are of satin trimmed with blond. +Belt of red satin with large red butterfly.</p> + +<p>The world was made in six days, I in three. And +yet I too am in the world—a little complicated world +of silk, satin, blond, loops, and fringes. Did God +rest while he was making the world? I do not +know; but I do know that the scissors that cut +me out and the needle that sewed me rested neither +day nor night from Monday evening, January +24, 1870, to Thursday morning, January 27th. The +slashes of the scissors and the pricks of the needle +caused me great pain at first, but I soon paid no +attention to them at all. I began to observe what +was going on, to understand that I was becoming +a dress, and to discover that the dress would be a +marvel. From time to time M. Worth came himself +to pay me little visits. "Take in the waist," +he would say, "add more fringe, spread out the +train, enlarge the butterfly," etc.</p> + +<p>One thing worried me: For whom was I intended? +I knew the name, nothing more—the Baroness +Z——. Princess would have been better; but +still, baroness did very well. I was ambitious. I +dreaded the theatre. It remained to be seen whether +this baroness was young, pretty, and equal to +wearing me boldly, and whether she had a figure +to show me off to advantage. I was horribly afraid +of falling into the hands of an ugly woman, a provincial, +or an old coquette.</p> + +<p>How perfectly reassured I was as soon as I saw +the baroness! Small, delicate, supple, stylish, a +fairy waist, the shoulders of a goddess, and, besides +all this, a certain little air of audacity, of raillery, +but in exquisite moderation.</p> + +<p>I was spread out on a large pearl-gray lounge, +and I was received with marks of frank admiration. +M. Worth had been good enough to bring me <i>himself</i>, +and he didn't trouble himself about all dresses.</p> + +<p>"How original!" exclaimed the little baroness; +"how new! But very dear, isn't it?"</p> + +<p>"One thousand and fifty francs."</p> + +<p>"One thousand and fifty francs! And I furnished +the lace! Ah, how quickly I should leave +you if I didn't owe you so much! For I owe you +a lot of money."</p> + +<p>"Oh, very little, baroness—very little."</p> + +<p>"No, no; a great deal. But we will discuss that +another day."</p> + +<p>That evening I made my first appearance in society, +and I came out at the Tuileries. We both +of us, the baroness and myself, had an undeniable +success. When the Empress crossed the Salon of +Diana, making pleasant remarks to the right and +left, she had the graciousness to stop before us and +make the following remark, which seemed to me +extremely witty, "Ah, baroness, what a dress—what +a dress! It's a dream!" On that occasion +the Empress wore a dress of white tulle dotted with +silver, on a design of cloudy green, with epaulettes +of sable. It was queer, not ineffective, but in +doubtful taste.</p> + +<p>We received much attention, the baroness and I. +The new Minister, M. Émile Ollivier, was presented +to us; we received him coldly, as the little baroness +did not approve, I believe, of liberal reforms, +and looked for nothing good from them. We had +a long chat on the window-seat with the Marshal +Lebœuf. The only topic during that interesting +conversation was the execution of Troppmann. It +was the great event of the week.</p> + +<p>At two o'clock we left—the baroness, I, and the +baron. For there was a husband, who for the time +being was crowded in the corner of the carriage, +and hidden under the mass of my skirts and of my +train, which was thrown back on him all in a heap.</p> + +<p>"Confess, Edward," said the little baroness—confess +that I was pretty to-night."</p> + +<p>"Very."</p> + +<p>"And my dress?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, charming!"</p> + +<p>"You say that indolently, without spirit or enthusiasm. +I know you well. You think I've been +extravagant. Well, indeed I haven't. Do you +know how much this dress cost me? Four hundred +francs—not a centime more."</p> + +<p>We arrived home, which was a step from the +Tuileries, in the Place Vendôme. The baron went +to his rooms, the baroness to hers; and while Hermance, +the maid, cleverly and swiftly untied all my +rosettes and took out the pins, the little baroness +kept repeating: "How becoming this dress is to +me! And I seem to become it, too. I shall wear +it on Thursday, Hermance, to go to the Austrian +Embassy. Wait a minute, till I see the effect of +the butterfly in the back. Bring the lamp nearer; +nearer yet. Yes, that's it. Ah, how pretty it is! +I am enchanted with this dress, Hermance—really +enchanted!"</p> + +<p>If the little baroness was enchanted with me, I +was equally enchanted with the baroness. We two +made the most tender, the most intimate, and the +most united of families. We comprehended, understood, +and completed each other so well. I +had not to do with one of those mechanical dolls—stupidly +and brutally laced into a padded corset. +Between the little baroness and myself there was +absolutely nothing but lace and fine linen. We +could confidentially and surely depend on one another. +The beauty of the little baroness was a real +beauty, without garniture, conjuring, or trickery.</p> + +<p>So the following Thursday I went to the Austrian +Embassy, and a week later to the Princess +Mathilde's. But, alas! the next morning the little +baroness said to her maid: "Hermance, take that +dress to the reserve. I love it, and I'd wear it +every evening; but it has been seen sufficiently +for this winter. Yesterday several people said to +me, 'Ah, that's your dress of the Tuileries; it's +your dress of the Austrian Embassy.' It must be +given up till next year. Good-bye, dear little +dress."</p> + +<p>And, having said that, she placed her charming +lips at hap-hazard among my laces and kissed me +in the dearest way in the world. Ah, how pleased +and proud I was of that childish and sweet fellowship! +I remembered that the evening before, on +our return, the little baroness had kissed her +husband; but the kiss she had given him was a +quick, dry kiss—one of those hurried kisses with +which one wishes to get through; whereas my kiss +had been prolonged and passionate. She had +cordiality for the baron, and love for me. The +little baroness wasn't twenty, and she was a coquette +to the core. I say this, in the first place, +to excuse her, and, in the second place, to give an +exact impression of her character.</p> + +<p>So at noon, in the arms of Hermance, I made +my entry to the reserve. It was a dormitory of +dresses, an immense room on the third story, very +large, and lined with wardrobes of white oak, carefully +locked. In the middle of the room was an +ottoman, on which Hermance deposited me; after +which she slid back ten or twelve wardrobe doors, +one after the other. Dresses upon dresses! I +should never be able to tell how many. All were +hung in the air by silk tape on big triangles. Hermance, +however, seemed much embarrassed.</p> + +<p>"In the reserve," she murmured, "in the reserve; +that is easy to say. But where is there any +room? And this one needs a lot." At last Hermance, +after having given a number of little taps +to the right and left, succeeded in making a sort of +slit, into which I had great difficulty in sliding. +Hermance gave me and my neighbors some more +little taps to lump us together, and then shut the +door. Darkness reigned. I was placed between a +blue velvet dress and a mauve satin one.</p> + +<p>Towards the end of April we received a visit +from the little baroness, and in consequence of +that visit there was great disturbance. Winter +dresses were hung up; spring dresses were got +down. At the beginning of July another visit, +another disturbance—entry of the costumes from +the races; departure of others for the watering-places. +I lost my neighbor to the right, the mauve +dress, and kept my neighbor on the left, the blue +dress, a cross and crabbed person who was forever +groaning, complaining, and saying to me, "Oh, my +dear, you do take up so much room; do get out of +the way a little." I must admit that the poor blue +velvet dress was much to be pitied. It was three +years old, having been a part of the little baroness's +trousseau, and had never been worn. "A high-neck +blue velvet dress, at my age, with my shoulders +and arms!" had exclaimed the little baroness; +"I should look like a grandmother!" Thus it was +decreed, and the unfortunate blue dress had gone +from the trousseau straight to the reserve.</p> + +<p>A week or ten days after the departure of the +dresses for Baden-Baden we heard a noise, the +voices of women, and all the doors were opened. +It was the little baroness, who had brought her +friend the Countess N——.</p> + +<p>"Sit there, my dear, on that ottoman," said the +little baroness. "I have come to look over my +dresses. I am very hurried; I arrived but just +now from Baden, and I start again to-night for +Anjou. We can chatter while Hermance shows +me the dresses. Oh, those Prussians, my dear, the +monsters! We had to run away, Blanche and myself, +like thieves. (Very simple dresses, Hermance, +every-day dresses, and walking and boating dresses.) +Yes, my dear, like thieves! They threw stones at +us, real stones, in the Avenue of Lichtental, and +called us 'Rascally Frenchwomen! French rabble!' +The Emperor did well to declare war against such +people. (Dresses for horseback, Hermance—my +brown riding-habit.) At any rate, there's no need +to worry. My husband dined yesterday with Guy; +you know, the tall Guy, who is an aide of Lebœuf. +Well, we are ready, admirably ready, and the Prussians +not at all. (Very simple, I said, Hermance. +You are showing me ball-dresses. I don't intend +to dance during the war.) And then, my dear, it +seems that this war was absolutely necessary from +a dynastic point of view. I don't quite know +why, but I tell it to you as I heard it. (These +dozen dresses, Hermance, will be sufficient. But +there are thirteen. I never could have thirteen. +Take away the green one; or, no, add another—that +blue one; that's all.) Now let's go down, my +dear."</p> + +<p>Whereupon she departed. So war was declared, +and with Prussia. I was much moved. I was a +French dress and a Bonapartist dress. I was +afraid for France and afraid for the dynasty, but the +words of the tall Guy were so perfectly reassuring.</p> + +<p>For two months there was no news; but about +the 10th of September the little baroness arrived +with Hermance. She was very pale, poor little +baroness—very pale and agitated.</p> + +<p>"Dark dresses, Hermance," she said, "black +dresses. I know! What remains of Aunt Pauline's +mourning? There must remain quite a lot +of things. You see, I am too sad—"</p> + +<p>"But if madame expects to remain long in England?"</p> + +<p>"Ah! as long as the Republic lasts."</p> + +<p>"Then it may be a long time."</p> + +<p>"What do you mean—a long time? What <i>do</i> +you mean, Hermance? Who can tell you such +things?"</p> + +<p>"It seems to me that if I were madame I'd take +for precaution's sake a few winter dresses, a few +evening-dresses—"</p> + +<p>"Evening-dresses! Why, what are you thinking +of? I shall go nowhere, Hermance, alone in England, +without my husband, who stays in Paris in +the National Guard."</p> + +<p>"But if madame should go to see their Majesties +in England?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, of course I shall, Hermance."</p> + +<p>"Well, it's because I know madame's feelings +and views that—"</p> + +<p>"You are right; put in some evening-dresses."</p> + +<p>"Will madame take her last white satin dress?"</p> + +<p>"Oh no, not that one; it would be too sad a +memory for the Empress, who noticed it at the last +ball at the Tuileries. And then the dress wouldn't +stand the voyage. My poor white satin dress! +Shall I ever wear it again?"</p> + +<p>That is why I did not emigrate, and how I found +myself blockaded in Paris during the siege. From +the few words that we had heard of the conversation +of the little baroness and Hermance we had a +pretty clear idea of the situation. The Empire was +overthrown and the Republic proclaimed. The +Republic! There were among us several old family +laces who had seen the first Republic—that of +'93. The Reign of Terror! Ah, what tales they +told us! The fall of the Empire, however, did not +displease these old laces, who were all Legitimists +or Orleanists. In my neighborhood, on a gooseberry +satin skirt, there were four flounces of lace +who had had the honor of attending the coronation +of Charles X., and who were delighted, and kept +saying to us: "The Bonapartes brought about invasion; +invasion brings back the Bourbons. Long +live Henry V.!"</p> + +<p>We all had, however, a common preoccupation. +Should we remain in style? We were nearly all +startling, risky, and loud—so much so that we were +quite anxious, except three or four quiet dresses, +velvet and dark cloth dresses, who joined in the +chorus with the old laces, and said to us: "Ah, +here's an end to the carnival, to this masquerade +of an empire! Republic or monarchy, little we care; +we are sensible and in good taste." We felt they were +somewhat in the right in talking thus. From September +to February we remained shut up in the wardrobes, +wrangling with each other, listening to the +cannon, and knowing nothing of what was going on.</p> + +<p>Towards the middle of February all the doors +were opened. It was the little baroness—the little +baroness!</p> + +<p>"Ah!" she exclaimed, "my dresses, my beloved +dresses, there they are; how happy I am to see +them!"</p> + +<p>We could say nothing; but we, too, were very +happy to see the little baroness.</p> + +<p>"Now, then, Hermance," continued the little +baroness, "let us hunt around a little. What can +I take to Bordeaux? After such disasters I must +have quiet and sombre dresses."</p> + +<p>"Madame hasn't very many."</p> + +<p>"I beg your pardon, Hermance, I have dark +dresses—this one and that one. The blue velvet +dress! The blue velvet dress is just the thing, and +I've never worn it."</p> + +<p>And so my neighbor the blue dress was taken +down, and was at last going to make her first appearance +in the world. However, the little baroness +herself, with great activity, rummaged round in +the wardrobes.</p> + +<p>"Nothing, nothing," she said; "four or five +dresses only. All the rest are impossible, and +would not accord with the Government we shall +have in Bordeaux. Well, I shall be obliged to have +some republican dresses made—very moderate republican, +but still republican."</p> + +<p>The little baroness went away, to come back a +month later, always with Hermance, who was an excellent +maid, and much thought of by her mistress. +New deliberation.</p> + +<p>"Hermance," said the little baroness, "what can +I take to Versailles? I think we shall be able to +have a little more freedom. There will be receptions +and dinners with M. Thiers; then the princes +are coming. I might risk transition dresses. Do +you know what I mean by that, Hermance—transition +dresses?"</p> + +<p>"Perfectly, madame—pearl grays, mauves, violets, +lilacs."</p> + +<p>"Yes, that's it, Hermance; light but quiet colors. +You are an invaluable maid. You understand me +perfectly."</p> + +<p>The little baroness started for Versailles with a +collection of transition dresses. There must have +been twenty. It was a good beginning, and filled +us with hope. She had begun at Bordeaux with +sombre colors, and continued on at Versailles with +light ones, Versailles was evidently only a stepping-stone +between Bordeaux and Paris. The little +baroness was soon coming back to Paris, and once +the little baroness was in Paris we could feel assured +that we should not stay long in the wardrobes.</p> + +<p>But it happened that a few days after the departure +of the little baroness for Versailles we heard +loud firing beneath the windows of the house (we +lived in the Place Vendôme). Was it another revolt, +another revolution? For a week nothing more +was heard; there was silence. Then at the end of +that week the cannonade began around Paris worse +than ever. Was the war recommencing with the +Prussians? Was it a new siege?</p> + +<p>The days passed, and the boom of the cannon +continued. Finally, one morning there was a great +racket in the court-yard of our house. Cries, +threats, oaths! The noise came up and up. Great +blows with the butt ends of muskets were struck +on the wardrobe doors. They were smashed in +and we perceived eight or ten slovenly looking, +dirty, and bearded men. Among these men was a +woman, a little brunette; fairly pretty, I must say, +but queerly gotten up. A black dress with a short +skirt, little boots with red bows, a round gray felt +hat with a large red plume, and a sort of red scarf +worn crosswise. It was a peculiar style, but it was +style all the same.</p> + +<p>"Oh, oh!" exclaimed the little woman, "here's +luck! What a lot of dresses! Well, clear away all +this, sergeant, and take those duds to headquarters."</p> + +<p>Then all those men threw themselves upon us +with a sort of fury. We felt ourselves gripped and +dishonored by coarse, dirty hands.</p> + +<p>"Don't soil them too much, citizens," the little +woman would cry. "Do them up in packages, and +take the packages down to the ammunition-wagon."</p> + +<p>The headquarters was the apartment of the young +lady of the red plume. Our new mistress was the +wife of a general of the Commune. We were destined +to remain official dresses. Official during the +Empire, and official during the Commune. The +first thought of Mme. General was to hold a review +of us, and I had the honor of being the object of +her special attention and admiration.</p> + +<p>"Ah, look, Émile!" (Émile was the General.) +"Look! this is the toniest of the whole concern. +I'll keep it for the Tuileries."</p> + +<p>I was to be kept for the Tuileries! What tales +of woe and what lamentations there were in the +sort of alcove where we were thrown like rags! +Mme. General went into society every evening, and +never put on the same dress twice. My poor companions +the day after told me their adventures of +the day before. This one had dined at Citizen +Raoul Rigault's, the Préfecture of Police; that one +attended a performance of "Andromaque" at the +Théâtre Français, in the Empress's box, etc. At +last it was my turn. The 17th of May was the +day of the grand concert at the Tuileries.</p> + +<p>Oh, my dear little baroness, what had become +of you? Where were your long soft muslin petticoats +and your fine white satin corsets? Where +were your transparent linen chemisettes? Mme. +General had coarse petticoats of starched calico. +Mme. General wore such a corset! Mme. General +had such a crinoline! My poor skirts of lace and +satin were abominably stiffened and tossed about +by the hard crinoline hoops. As to the basque, +the strange thing happened that the basque of the +little baroness was much too tight for Mme. General +at the waist, and, on the contrary, above the waist +it was—I really do not know how to explain such +things. At any rate, it was just the opposite of +small, so much so that it had to be padded. Horrible! +Most horrible!</p> + +<p>At ten that evening I was climbing for the second +time the grand staircase of the Tuileries, in +the midst of a dense and ignoble mob. One of the +General's aides-de-camp tried in vain to open a passage.</p> + +<p>"Room, room, for the wife of the General!" he +cried.</p> + +<p>Much they cared for the wife of the General! +Great big boots trampled on my train, sharp spurs +tore my laces, and the bones of the corsets of Mme. +General hurt me terribly.</p> + +<p>At midnight I returned to Mme. General's den. I +returned in rags, shreds, soiled, dishonored, and +stained with wine, tobacco, and mud. A hateful +little maid brutally tore me from the shoulders of +Mme. General, and said to her mistress:</p> + +<p>"Well, madame, was it beautiful?"</p> + +<p>"No, Victoria," replied Mme. General, "it was too +mixed. But do hurry up! tear it off if it won't come. +I know where to find others at the same price."</p> + +<p>And I was thrown like a rag on a heap of pieces. +The heap of pieces was composed of ball-dresses +of the little baroness.</p> + +<p>One morning, three or four days later, the aide-de-camp +rushed in, crying, "The Versaillists! The +Versaillists are in Paris!"</p> + +<p>Thereupon Mme. General put on a sort of military +costume, took two revolvers, filled them with cartridges, +and hung them on a black leather belt +which she wore around her waist. "Where is the +General?" she said to the aide-de-camp.</p> + +<p>"At the Tuileries."</p> + +<p>"Very well, I shall go there with you." And +on that she departed, with her little gray felt hat +jauntily tilted over her ear.</p> + +<p>The cannonade and firing redoubled and came +nearer. Evidently there was fighting very near us, +quite close to us. The next day towards noon we +saw them both come back, the General and Mme. +General. And in what a condition! Panting, +frightened, forbidding, with clothes white with +dust, and hands and faces black with powder. +The General was wounded in the left hand, he +had twisted around his wrist a handkerchief bathed +in blood.</p> + +<p>"Does your arm hurt you?" Mme. General said +to him.</p> + +<p>"It stings a little, that's all."</p> + +<p>"Are they following us?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, I think so."</p> + +<p>"Listen! There are noises, shouts."</p> + +<p>"Look out of the window without showing yourself."</p> + +<p>"The red trousers! They are here!"</p> + +<p>"Lock and bolt the door. Get the revolvers and +load them. I can't on account of my arm. This +wound is a bore."</p> + +<p>"You are so pale!"</p> + +<p>"Yes; I am losing blood—a good deal of blood."</p> + +<p>"They are coming up the stairs!"</p> + +<p>"Into the alcove—let us go into the alcove, on +the dresses."</p> + +<p>"Here they are!"</p> + +<p>"Give me the revolver."</p> + +<p>The door gave way violently under the hammering +of the butts of the guns. A shower of bullets +fell on us and around us. The General, with a single +movement, fell heavily at full length on the bed +of silk, muslin, and laces that we made for him. +Three or four men with red trousers threw themselves +on Mme. General, who fought, bit, and +screamed, "Assassins! assassins!"</p> + +<p>A soldier tore away the bell-cord, firmly tied her +hands, and carried her away like a bundle. She +continued to repeat, in a strangled voice, "Assassins! +assassins!" The soldiers approached the alcove +and looked at the General. "As to him," they +said, "he's done for; he doesn't need anything +more. Let's be off."</p> + +<p>They left us, and we remained there for two days, +crushed beneath that corpse and covered with blood. +Finally, at the end of those two days, a man arrived +who was called a Commissioner, and who wore a +tricolored scarf around his waist. "This corpse +has been forgotten," he said. "Take it away."</p> + +<p>They tried to lift the body, but with fingers stiffened +by death the General held my big cherry satin +butterfly. They had nearly to break his fingers to +get it out.</p> + +<p>Meantime the Commissioner examined and +searched curiously among that brilliant heap of +rags on which the General had died. My waist +appeared to catch his eye. "Here is a mark," he +said to one of his men—"a mark inside the waist, +with the name and number of the maker. We can +learn where these dresses came from. Wrap this +waist in a newspaper and I'll take it."</p> + +<p>They wrapped me in an old number of the <i>Official +Journal of the Commune</i>. The following day we +went to M. Worth, the Commissioner and I. The +conversation was not long.</p> + +<p>"Was this dress made by you?" the Commissioner +asked.</p> + +<p>"Yes; here's the mark."</p> + +<p>"And for whom was it made?"</p> + +<p>"Number 18,223. Wait a moment; I'll consult +my books." The dress-maker came back in five +minutes, and said to the Commissioner, "It was for +the Baroness Z—— that I made this dress, eighteen +months ago, and it isn't paid for."</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="THE_INSURGENT" id="THE_INSURGENT"></a>THE INSURGENT</h2> + + +<p>"Prisoner," said the President of the Council +of War, "have you anything to add in your defence?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, colonel," replied the prisoner. "The little +lawyer you assigned me defended me according to +his idea; I want to defend myself according to +mine.</p> + +<p>"My name is Martin (Lewis Joseph). I am fifty-five +years old. My father was a locksmith. He had +a little shop in the upper part of the Saint-Martin +Quarter, and had a fair business. We just +existed. I learned to read in the <i>National</i>, which +was, I believe, the paper of M. Thiers.</p> + +<p>"On the 27th of July, 1830, my father went out +very early. That evening, at ten o'clock, he was +brought back to us on a litter, dying. He had received +a bullet in the chest. Beside him on the +litter was his musket.</p> + +<p>"'Take it,' he said to me. 'I give it to you; and +every time there is a riot, be against the Government—always, +always, always!'</p> + +<p>"An hour later he was dead. I went out in the +night. At the first barricade I stopped and offered +myself; a man examined me by the light of a lantern. +'A child!' he exclaimed. I was not fifteen. +I was very slight and undersized. I answered: 'A +child, maybe, but my father was killed two hours +ago. He gave me his musket. Teach me how to +use it.'</p> + +<p>"From that moment I became what I have always +been for forty years, an insurgent! If I fought +during the Commune, it was not because I was +forced, nor for the thirty sous; it was from taste, +from pleasure, from habit, from routine.</p> + +<p>"In 1830 I behaved rather bravely at the attack +on the Louvre. The urchin who first scaled the +gate beneath the bullets of the Swiss was I. I received +the Medal of July. But the shopkeepers +gave us a king. It had all to be done over. I +joined a secret society; I learned to melt bullets, +to make powder—in short, I completed my education, +and I waited.</p> + +<p>"I had to wait nearly two years. On June 5, +1832, at noon, in front of the Madeleine, I was the +first to unharness one of the horses of the hearse +of General Lamarque. I passed the day in shouting, +'Long live Lafayette!' and I passed the night +in making barricades. The next morning we were +attacked by the regulars. In the evening, towards +four o'clock, we were blocked, cannonaded, swept +with grape-shot, and crushed back into the Church +of Saint-Méry. I had a bullet and three bayonet-stabs +in my body when I was picked up by the soldiers +from the stone floor of a little chapel to the +left—the Chapel of St. John. I have often gone +back to that little chapel—not to pray, I wasn't +brought up with such ideas—but to see the stains +of my blood which still remain on the stones.</p> + +<p>"On account of my youth I received a ten-year +sentence. I was sent to Mont Saint-Michel. That +was why I didn't take part in the riots of 1834. +If I had been free I should have fought in Rue +Transnonian as I had fought in Rue Saint-Méry—'against +the Government—always, always, always!' +It was my father's last word; it was my gospel, my +religion. I call that my catechism in six words. I +came out of prison in 1842, and I again began to +wait.</p> + +<p>"The revolution of '48 was made without effort. +The shopkeepers were stupid and cowardly. They +were neither for nor against us. The municipal +guards alone defended themselves. We had a little +trouble in taking the guard-house of the Château +d'Eau. On the evening of February 24th I remained +three or four hours on the square before the Hôtel +de Ville. The members of the Provisional Government, +one after another, made speeches to us—said +that we were heroes, great citizens, the foremost nation +in the world, that we had broken the bonds of +tyranny. After having fed us on these fine speeches, +they gave us a republic which wasn't any better +than the monarchy we had overthrown.</p> + +<p>"In June I took up my musket again, but on that +occasion we were not successful. I was arrested, +sentenced, and sent to Cayenne. It seems that I +behaved well there. One day I saved a captain +of marines from drowning. Observe that I should +most certainly have shot at that captain if he had +been on one side of a barricade and I on the other; +but a man who is drowning, dying—in short, I received +my pardon, I came back to France in 1852, +after the Coup d'État; I had missed the insurrection +of 1851.</p> + +<p>"At Cayenne I had made friends with a tailor +named Barnard. Six months after my departure +for France, Barnard died. I went to see his widow. +She was in want. I married her. We had a son +in 1854—you will understand presently why I speak +to you of my wife and my son. But you must already +suspect that an insurgent who marries the +widow of an insurgent does not have royalist children.</p> + +<p>"Under the Empire there was nothing to do. +The police were very strict. We were dispersed, +disarmed. I worked, I brought up my son with +the ideas that my father had given me. The wait +was long. Rochefort, Gambetta, public reunions—all +that put us in motion again.</p> + +<p>"On the first important occasion I showed myself. +I was one of that little band who assaulted +the barracks of the firemen of Villette. Only there +we made a mistake. We killed a fireman, unnecessarily, +I was caught and thrown into prison, +but the Government of the Fourth of September +liberated us, from which I concluded that we did +right to attack those barracks and kill the fireman, +even unnecessarily.</p> + +<p>"The siege began. I immediately opposed the +Government, on the side of the Commune. I +marched against the Hôtel de Ville on the 31st of +October and on the 22d of January. I liked revolt +for revolt's sake. An insurgent—I told you in the +beginning I am an insurgent. I cannot hear a discussion +without taking part, nor see a riot without +running to it, nor a barricade without bringing my +paving-stone. It's in the blood.</p> + +<p>"And then, besides, I wasn't quite ignorant, and +I said to myself, It is only necessary to succeed +thoroughly some day, and then, in our turn, we +shall be the Government, and it will be better than +with all these lawyers, who place themselves behind +us during the battle, and pass ahead after the +victory.'</p> + +<p>"The 18th of March came, and naturally I was +in it. I shouted 'Hurrah for the regulars!' I fraternized +with the army. I went to the Hôtel de +Ville. I found a government already at work. It was +absolutely the same as on the 24th of February.</p> + +<p>"Now you tell me that that insurrection was not +lawful. That is possible, but I don't quite see why +not. I begin to get muddled—about these insurrections +which are a duty and those which are a +crime! I do not clearly see the difference.</p> + +<p>"I shot at the Versailles troops in 1871, as I had +shot at the royal guard in 1830 and on the municipals +in 1848. After 1830 I received the Medal of +July; after 1848 the compliments of M. de Lamartine. +This time I am going to get transportation +or death.</p> + +<p>"There are insurrections which please you. You +raise columns to them, you give their names to +streets, you give yourselves the offices, the promotions, +and the big salaries, and we folks, who made +the revolution, you call us great citizens, heroes, a +nation of brave men, etc. That's the coin we are +paid with.</p> + +<p>"And then there are other insurrections which +displease you. As a result, transportation, death. +Well, you see, if you hadn't complimented us so +after the first ones, perhaps we wouldn't have made +the last. If you hadn't raised the Column of July +at the entrance of our neighborhood, we wouldn't +perhaps have gone and demolished the Vendôme +Column in your neighborhood. Those two penny +trumpets didn't agree. One had to upset the other, +and that is what happened.</p> + +<p>"Now, why I threw away my captain's uniform +on the 26th of May, why I was in a blouse when I +was arrested, I will tell you. When I learned that +the gentlemen of the Commune, instead of coming +to shoot with us behind the barricades, were at +the Hôtel de Ville distributing among themselves +thousand-franc notes, were shaving their beards, +dyeing their hair, and hiding themselves in caves, +I did not wish to keep the shoulder-straps they had +given me.</p> + +<p>"Besides, shoulder-straps embarrassed me. 'Captain +Martin' sounded idiotic. 'Insurgent Martin'—why, +that's well and good. I wanted to end as +I had begun, die as my father had died, as a rioter +in a riot, as a barricader behind a barricade.</p> + +<p>"I could not get killed. I got caught. I belong +to you. But I wish to beg a favor of you. I have +a son, a child of seventeen; he is at Cherbourg, on +the hulks. He fought, it is true, and he does not +deny it; but it is I who put a musket in his hand, +it is I who told him that his duty was there. He +listened to me. He obeyed me. That is all his +crime. Do not sentence him too harshly.</p> + +<p>"As for me, you have got me; do not let me go, +that's the advice I give you. I am too old to mend; +and then, what can you expect? Nothing can +change it. I was born on the wrong side of the +barricade."</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="THE_CHINESE_AMBASSADOR" id="THE_CHINESE_AMBASSADOR"></a>THE CHINESE AMBASSADOR</h2> + + +<p>In the beginning of the year 1870 some English +and French residents had been massacred in +China. Reparation was demanded. His Excellency +Tchong-Keon, Tutor of the Heir-apparent and +Vice-President of the War Department, was sent +to Europe as Ambassador Extraordinary to the English +and French governments.</p> + +<p>Tchong-Keon has recently published at Pekin a +very curious account of his voyage. One of my +friends who lives in Shanghai, and who possesses +the rare talent of being able to read Chinese easily, +sent me this faithful translation of a part of Tchong-Keon's +book:</p> + +<div><br /></div> +<div><br /></div> +<p>HAVRE, <i>September 12, 1870</i>.</p> + +<p>I land, and I make myself known. I am the +Ambassador of the Emperor of China. I bear +apologies to the Emperor of the French, and presents +to the Empress. There is no Emperor and no +Empress. A Republic has been proclaimed. I +am much embarrassed. Shall I offer the apologies +and presents that were intended for the Empire to +the Republic?</p> + +<div><br /></div> +<div><br /></div> +<p>HAVRE, <i>September 14, 1870</i>.</p> + +<p>After much reflection, I shall offer the apologies +and keep the presents.</p> + +<div><br /></div> +<div><br /></div> +<p>HAVRE, <i>September 26, 1870</i>.</p> + +<p>Yes; but to whom shall I carry the apologies, and +to whom shall I present them? The Government +of the French Republic is divided in two: there is +one part in Paris and one part in Tours. To go to +Paris is not to be thought of. Paris is besieged +and blockaded by the Prussians. I shall go to +Tours.</p> + +<div><br /></div> +<div><br /></div> +<p>HAVRE, <i>October 2, 1870</i>.</p> + +<p>I did not go, and I shall not go, to Tours. I received +yesterday a visit from the correspondent +of the <i>Times</i>, a most agreeable and sensible man. +I told him that I intended going to Tours.</p> + +<p>"To Tours! What do you want in Tours?"</p> + +<p>"To present the apologies of my master to the +Minister of Foreign Affairs of the French Republic."</p> + +<p>"But that minister isn't in Tours."</p> + +<p>"And where is he?"</p> + +<p>"Blockaded in Paris."</p> + +<p>A Minister of Foreign Affairs who is blockaded +in a besieged town seemed to me most extraordinary.</p> + +<p>"And why," the correspondent of the <i>Times</i> +asked me, "do you bring apologies to the French +Government?"</p> + +<p>"Because we massacred some French residents."</p> + +<p>"French residents! That's of no importance +nowadays. France no longer exists. You can, if +it amuses you, throw all the French residents into +the sea."</p> + +<p>"We also thoughtlessly massacred some English +residents."</p> + +<p>"You massacred some English residents! Oh, +that's very different! England is still a great +nation. And you have brought apologies to Queen +Victoria?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, apologies and presents."</p> + +<p>"Go to London, go straight to London, and don't +bother about France; there is no France."</p> + +<p>The correspondent of the <i>Times</i> looked quite +happy when he spoke those words: "there is no +France."</p> + +<div><br /></div> +<div><br /></div> +<p>LONDON, <i>October 10, 1870</i>.</p> + +<p>I've seen the Queen of England. She received +me very cordially. She has accepted the apologies; +she has accepted the presents.</p> + +<div><br /></div> +<div><br /></div> +<p>LONDON, <i>October 12, 1870</i>.</p> + +<p>Had a long conversation with Lord Granville, +Minister of Foreign Affairs of the Queen of England. +I explained to his Excellency that I meant +to go home at once, and that I feel I need not pay +further attention to my French embassy, as France +no longer exists. Lord Granville answered me:</p> + +<p>"Don't go away so soon; you will perhaps be +obliged to come back, and sooner than you imagine. +France is an extraordinary country, which picks up +very quickly. Await the end of the war, and then +you can take your apologies to the Government that +France will have decided on giving itself. Till then +remain in England. We shall be most happy to offer +you our hospitality."</p> + +<div><br /></div> +<div><br /></div> +<p>LONDON, <i>November 3, 1870</i>.</p> + +<p>I did not return to China. I am waiting in London +till the Minister of Foreign Affairs is not besieged, +and till there is some way of laying one's +hands on the French Government. There are many +Parisians here who escaped from their country on +account of the war. I dined yesterday with his +Royal Highness, the Prince of Wales. Three Parisian +women, all three young, and all three pretty, +took possession of me after dinner. We had a very +interesting conversation in English.</p> + +<p>"You are looking for the French Government, +the legitimate Government?" said the first of these +Parisians. "Why, it is here in England, half an hour +from London. To-morrow go to the Waterloo station +and buy a ticket for Chiselhurst, and there +you will find Napoleon III., who is, and has never +ceased to be, the Emperor of the French."</p> + +<p>"Don't listen to her, Mr. Ambassador," laughingly +said the second Parisian, "don't listen to her; +she is a terrible Bonapartist. Yes, the true sovereign +of France is in England, quite near London, +but not at Chiselhurst; and it is not the Waterloo +station you must go to, but the Victoria station. +You mustn't take a ticket for Chiselhurst, but for +Twickenham, and there you will find at Orleans +House his Royal Highness the Count of Paris."</p> + +<p>"Don't listen to her, Mr. Ambassador," exclaimed +in turn, and also laughing, the third Parisian, "don't +listen to her; she is a terrible revolutionist! The +Count of Paris is not the heir to the throne of +France. To find the legitimate King you must go +a little farther than Chiselhurst or Twickenham; +you must go to Austria, to the Frohsdorf Palace. +The King of France—he is the descendant of +Henry IV.—is the Count of Chambord."</p> + +<p>If I count aright, that makes three legitimate +sovereigns, and all three deposed. Never in China +have we had anything of that sort. Our old dynasty +has had to fight against the invasions of the +Mongols and against the insurrections of the Taipings. +But three legitimate sovereigns for the same +country, for a single throne! One has to come to +Europe to see such things.</p> + +<p>However, the three Parisians gayly discussed the +matter, and seemed to be the best friends in the +world.</p> + +<div><br /></div> +<div><br /></div> +<p>LONDON, <i>November 15, 1870</i>.</p> + +<p>As a sequel to the three Frenchwomen, representing +three different monarchs, I met, this evening, +at Lord Granville's, three Frenchmen representing +three different republics.</p> + +<p>The first asked me why I didn't go to Tours.</p> + +<p>"You will find there," he said to me, "the authorized +representatives of the French Republic, +and in addressing yourself to M. Gambetta you +are addressing France—"</p> + +<p>"Don't do that, Mr. Ambassador!" exclaimed the +second Frenchman; "the real Government of the +real French Republic is shut up in Paris. M. Jules +Favre alone can officially receive your visit and +your apologies."</p> + +<p>"The Republic of Paris isn't worth more than +the Republic of Tours," the third Frenchman then +told me. "If we have a Republic in France, it will +be neither the Republic of M. Gambetta nor the +Republic of M. Jules Favre."</p> + +<p>"And whose Republic then?"</p> + +<p>"The Republic of M. Thiers—"</p> + +<p>Whereupon the three Frenchmen began to dispute +in earnest. They were very red, shouted loudly, and +made violent gestures. The discussion about the +three monarchies had been much gentler and much +more agreeable than the discussion about the three +republics.</p> + +<p>During the evening these Frenchmen managed to +slip into my ear, in turn, two or three little phrases +of this kind:</p> + +<p>"Don't listen," the first one said to me, "to that +partisan of the Government of Paris; he is a lawyer +who has come here with a commission from +M. Jules Favre. So you see he has a big salary, +and as he wishes to keep it—"</p> + +<p>"Don't listen," the second one said to me, "to +that partisan of the alleged Republic of M. Thiers; +he is only a monarchist, a disguised Orleanist—"</p> + +<p>"Don't listen," the third one said to me, "to +that partisan of the Republic of Tours; he is a gentleman +who has come to England to get a loan for +the benefit of the Government of Tours; so, as he +expects to get a lot of money—"</p> + +<p>Thus I am, if I reckon correctly, face to face with +six governments—three monarchies and three republics.</p> + +<div><br /></div> +<div><br /></div> +<p>LONDON, <i>December 6, 1870</i>.</p> + +<p>I think that his Excellency, M. de Bernstoff, +Prussian Ambassador to England, takes pleasure +in making fun of me. I never meet him but that +he announces to me that Paris will capitulate the +next day. The next day arrives and Paris does not +capitulate. However, this evening his Excellency +looked so perfectly sure of what he was saying that +I think I can prepare to start for Paris.</p> + +<div><br /></div> +<div><br /></div> +<p>PARIS, <i>February 20, 1871</i>.</p> + +<p>I only left on the 10th of February. At last I am +in Paris. I travelled slowly, by short stages. What +a lot of burned villages! What a lot of sacked +houses! What a lot of devastated forests, dug-up +woods, and bridges and railroads destroyed! And +these Europeans treat us as barbarians!</p> + +<p>However, among all these ruins there is one the +sight of which filled me with the keenest joy. The +palace of Saint-Cloud was the summer palace of the +Emperor Napoleon, and not a stone upon a stone +remains. I contemplated curiously, eagerly, and for +a long time the blackened ruins of this palace. +Pieces of old Chinese vases were hidden in the +heaps of rubbish among the wreck of marble and +fragments of shell.</p> + +<p>Where did those old Chinese vases come from? +Perhaps from the summer palace of our Emperor, +from that palace which was devastated, burned, +and destroyed by those English and French soldiers +who came to bring us civilization.</p> + +<p>I was extremely well received by the English, +who overwhelmed me with invitations and kindnesses; +but none the less I hope that the palaces of +Buckingham and Windsor will also have their turn.</p> + +<div><br /></div> +<div><br /></div> +<p>PARIS, <i>February 25, 1871</i>.</p> + +<p>I have written to M. Jules Favre to let him +know that I have been waiting six months for +the opportunity of presenting to him the compliments +and apologies of the Emperor of China. +M. Jules Favre answered me that he is obliged +to start for Bordeaux. I shall have an audience in +the beginning of March.</p> + +<div><br /></div> +<div><br /></div> +<p>PARIS, <i>March 7, 1871</i>.</p> + +<p>Another letter from M. Jules Favre. He is expected +at Frankfort by M. de Bismarck. My audience +is again put off.</p> + +<div><br /></div> +<div><br /></div> +<p>PARIS, <i>March 17, 1871</i>.</p> + +<p>At last, to-morrow, March 18th, at four o'clock, +I am to be received by M. Jules Favre at the Ministry +of Foreign Affairs.</p> + +<div><br /></div> +<div><br /></div> +<p>PARIS, <i>March 18, 1871</i>.</p> + +<p>We dressed ourselves, I and my two secretaries, +in our official costumes, and departed at three +o'clock, accompanied by an interpreter. We arrived. +The court of the house was filled with people +who appeared busy and hurried, and who came +and went, carrying cases and packages. The interpreter, +after having exchanged several words +with an employee of the ministry, said to me:</p> + +<p>"Something serious has happened—an insurrection. +The Government is again obliged to change +its capital!"</p> + +<p>At that moment a door opened, and M. Jules +Favre himself appeared with a large portfolio under +his arm. He explained to the interpreter that +I should have my audience at Versailles in several +days, and having made me a profound bow, which +I returned him, he ran away with his large portfolio.</p> + +<div><br /></div> +<div><br /></div> +<p>VERSAILLES, <i>March 19, 1871</i>.</p> + +<p>I had to leave Paris at twelve o'clock in a great +hurry. There really is a new Government at Paris. +This Government is not one of the three monarchies, +nor one of the three republics. It is a seventh +arrangement, which is called the <i>Commune</i>. +This morning an armed troop of men surrounded +the house where I live. It seems that the new +Ministry of Foreign Affairs of Paris of the Commune +would have been charmed to receive a Chinese +ambassador. They had come to carry me off. +I had time to escape. It is not the Minister of +Foreign Affairs in Paris that I ought to see, it is the +Minister of Foreign Affairs in Versailles.</p> + +<p>Good heavens, how complicated it all is! And +when shall I be able to put my hand on this intangible +person, who is now blockaded in Paris +and now chased out of Paris?</p> + +<div><br /></div> +<div><br /></div> +<p>VERSAILLES, <i>April 6, 1871</i>.</p> + +<p>At last, yesterday, I had the honor of being received +by his Excellency, and we discussed the +events that had occurred in Paris.</p> + +<p>"This insurrection," M. Jules Favre said to me, +"is the most formidable and the most extraordinary +that has ever broken out."</p> + +<p>I could not allow such a great historical error to +pass. I answered M. Jules Favre that we had +had in China for millions of years socialists and +socialistic uprisings; that the French Communists +were but rough imitators of our Chinese Taipings; +that we had had in 1230 a siege at Nankin which +had lasted seven years, etc. In short, these Europeans +are only beginning again our history with +less grandeur and more barbarity.</p> + +<div><br /></div> +<div><br /></div> +<p>VERSAILLES, <i>May 15, 1871</i>.</p> + +<p>My mission is ended; I could return to China; +but all that I see here interests me extremely. +This civil war immediately succeeding a foreign +war is a very curious occurrence. There is here, +for a Chinaman, an excellent opportunity of study, +on the spot and from life, of European civilization.</p> + +<div><br /></div> +<div><br /></div> +<p>VERSAILLES, <i>May 24, 1871</i>.</p> + +<p>Paris is burning, and on the terrace of the palace +of Saint-Cloud, in the midst of the ruins of that +palace, I passed my day looking at Paris burn. It +is a dead, destroyed, and annihilated city.</p> + +<div><br /></div> +<div><br /></div> +<p>PARIS, <i>June 10, 1871</i>.</p> + +<p>Not at all. It is still the most beautiful city in +Europe, and the most brilliant, and the most gay. +I shall spend some time in Paris.</p> + +<div><br /></div> +<div><br /></div> +<p>PARIS, <i>June 29, 1871</i>.</p> + +<p>Yesterday M. Thiers, in the Bois de Boulogne, +held a review of a hundred thousand men. Will +there always be a France?</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="IN_THE_EXPRESS" id="IN_THE_EXPRESS"></a>IN THE EXPRESS</h2> + + +<p>"When one bears the name of Luynes or La +Trémoille, I can readily understand the desire to +continue the Luynes or the La Trémoilles; but +really when one is named Chamblard, what possible +object can there be in—Eh? Answer."</p> + +<p>In this fashion young Raoul Chamblard talked +while comfortably settled back in a large red velvet +arm-chair. This happened on the 26th of March, +1892, in one of the parlor-cars of the express to +Marseilles, which had left Paris at 8.50 that morning. +It was now five minutes past nine. The train +with much racket was crossing the bridge of Charentin. +Young Chamblard was talking to his friend, +Maurice Révoille, who, after a six weeks' leave, was +going to join his regiment in Algeria.</p> + +<p>The lieutenant of light cavalry responded to his +friend's question with a vague gesture. Raoul +Chamblard continued:</p> + +<p>"However, it's my father's fixed idea. There +must be Chamblards after me. And as papa has +but one son, it's to me he looks to do what is necessary."</p> + +<p>"Well, do what is necessary."</p> + +<p>"But I am only twenty-four, my dear fellow, and +to marry at twenty-four is hard. It seems to me +that I'm still entitled to a little more fun, and even +a good deal."</p> + +<p>"Well, have your fun."</p> + +<p>"That's just what I've done up to now. I have +had a first-rate time! But I've taste only for expensive +amusements. I don't know how to enjoy +myself without money, and I haven't a cent. Do +you understand? Not a cent!"</p> + +<p>"You? You are very rich."</p> + +<p>"A great mistake! Upon coming of age, three +years ago, I spent what was left me by my mother. +Mother wasn't very rich; she was worth six hundred +thousand francs, not more. Papa made almost +a love-match. The six hundred thousand +francs vanished in three years, and could I decently +do anything else as the son of my father? He +is powerfully rich!"</p> + +<p>"That's what's said."</p> + +<p>"And it's very true. He has a dozen millions +which are quite his own, and can't be hurt by an +accident; and his bank still goes on, and brings +him in, one year with another, besides the interest +on his dozen millions, three or four hundred thousand +francs more. Nothing is more solid than the +Chamblard bank; it's honest, it's venerable. Papa +isn't fair to me, but I'm fair to him. When you +have a father in business, it's a good thing when +you go out not to be exposed to meet eyes which +seem to say to you, 'My dear fellow, your father +has swindled me.' Papa has but one passion: +from five to seven every day he plays piquet at +his club, at ten sous a point, and as he is an excellent +player, he wins seven times out of ten. He +keeps an account of his games with the same scrupulous +exactitude he has in all things, and he was +telling the day before yesterday that piquet this +year had brought him in six thousand five hundred +francs over and above the cost of the cards. He +has a seat in the orchestra at the opera, not for +the ballet, but for the music only; he never goes +on the stage—neither do I, for that matter. Dancers +don't attract me at all; they live in Batignolles, +in Montmartre; they always walk with +their mothers; they completely lack charm. In +short, my father is what one calls a good man. +You see I continue to be fair to him. Besides, I'm +always right. Yes, it's a very good thing to have +an honorable father, and Papa Chamblard is a model +of all virtues, and he accumulates for me with a +zeal! but I think, just at present, he accumulates +a little too much. He has cut off my income. No +marriage, no money. That's brief and decisive. +That's his programme. And he has hunted up +a wife for me—when I say one, I should say three."</p> + +<p>"Three wives!"</p> + +<p>"Yes. One morning he came to me and said: +'This must end. Look, here's a list—three splendid +matches.' There were the names, the relations, +the dowries—it was even arranged in the +order of the dowries. I had to yield and consent +to an interview with Number One. That took place +at the Salon in the Champs Elysées. Ah, my boy, +Number One—dry, flat, bony, sallow!"</p> + +<p>"Then why did your father—"</p> + +<p>"Why? Because she was the daughter, and only +daughter, of a wealthy manufacturer from Roubaix. +It was splendid! We each started with a hundred +thousand francs income, and that was to be, in the +course of time, after realized expectations, a shower +of millions! It made papa supremely happy—the +thought that all his millions in Paris would one +day make an enormous heap with all those Roubaix +millions. Millions don't frighten me, but on +the condition that they surround a pretty, a very +pretty and stylish woman—a great deal of style! +That's <i>my</i> programme. I want to be able to take +my wife to the theatres without having to blush +before the box-openers."</p> + +<p>"What do you mean? Before the box-openers?"</p> + +<p>"Why, certainly. I am known, and I've a reputation +to keep up. You see, the openers are always +the same—always; and of course they know +me. They've been in the habit of seeing me, during +the last three or four years, come with the best-known +and best-dressed women in Paris. Which +is to say, that I should never dare present myself before +them with that creature from Roubaix. They +would think I had married for money. I tried to +explain that delicately to papa, but one can't make +him hear reason. There are things which he doesn't +understand, which he can't understand. I have no +grudge against him; he's of his time, I'm of mine. +In short, I declared resolutely that I would never +marry Number One. Notice that I discoursed most +sensibly with papa. I said to him: 'You want me +to have a home' (home is his word), 'but when I +should have placed in that home a fright such as +to scare the sparrows, my home would be a horror +to me, and I should be forced, absolutely forced, +to arrange a home outside. Thus I should have a +household at home and a household outside, and +it's then that the money would fly!' But papa +won't listen to anything! He doesn't understand +that I must have a little wife who is pretty, Parisian +pretty—that is to say, original, gay, jolly, who +is looked at on the street, and stared at through +opera-glasses at the theatre, who will do me honor, +and who will set me off well. I must be able to +continue my bachelor life with her, and as long as +possible. And then there's another thing that I +can't tell papa. His name is Chamblard—it isn't +his fault; only, in consequence, I too am named +Chamblard, and it's not very agreeable, with a name +like that, to try to get on in society. And a pretty, +a very pretty, woman is the best passport. There, +look at Robineau. He has just been received into +the little club of the Rue Royale. And why? It's +not the Union or the Jockey; but never mind, one +doesn't get in there as into a hotel. And why was +Robineau received?"</p> + +<p>"I don't know."</p> + +<p>"It's because he has married a charming woman, +and this charming woman is a skater of the first +rank. She had a tremendous success on the ice +at the Bois de Boulogne. In the society columns +of all the papers there was mention of the exquisite, +delightful, and ideal Mme. Robineau. She was +in the swim at one stroke. And Robineau, he too +was in the swim. He was a member of the little +club six weeks later! Papa, he doesn't understand +the importance of these things; one can't reason +with him about it; it's all Greek to him. However, +as he had absolutely cut off my supplies, I had to +submit, and consent to an interview with Number +Two."</p> + +<p>"And what was Number Two like?"</p> + +<p>"Ah, my dear fellow, what was she like! She +was the daughter of a rich merchant of Antwerp. +A Belgian article! First a provincial, and then a +foreigner! Papa doesn't like Parisians. Mamma +was from Châtellerault, and she was indeed a saint. +Number Two happened to be in Paris; so last night, +at the Opéra Comique, they showed me a Fleming, +who was very blond, very insipid, very masculine—a +Rubens, a true Rubens; a giantess, a colossal +woman, a head taller than I, which is to say that +materially one could not take her in a lower stage-box, +and those are the only boxes I like. On leaving +the theatre I told papa that I wouldn't have +Number Two any more than Number One, and that +I had had enough, and that I wouldn't see Number +Three. The discussion was heated. Papa went off +banging doors and repeating, 'No more money!' +I saw that it was serious. I went to bed, but I +couldn't sleep—I thought; but I could think of +nothing to save me from the fat hands of the Antwerp +girl. Suddenly, towards three in the morning, +I had an inspiration—I had an idea that I can call, +if you'll permit it, a stroke of genius."</p> + +<p>"I'll permit it."</p> + +<p>"Yes, genius. I knew that you left to-day for +Marseilles, and this morning I departed, English +fashion, without explanation, and in a little while, +at the first stop, at Laroche—I have looked at the +time-table, I have thought of everything—I shall +send the following despatch to my father," and Raoul +triumphantly pulled a paper out of his pocket. +"It's all ready. Listen. 'M. Chamblard, 8 Rue +Rougemont, Paris, Laroche station. I left on the +express for Marseilles with Maurice. I am going to +make a voyage around the world. I sha'n't be more +than six months. I have engaged by telegraph a +state-room on the <i>Traonaddy</i> which leaves to-morrow +for Singapore. Anything rather than a +Flemish alliance! Farewell. With regrets for leaving +you, your affectionate son, Raoul Chamblard.' +My telegram's all right, isn't it?"</p> + +<p>"It isn't bad, but do you seriously mean—"</p> + +<p>"Yes, I shall go if, before I reach Marseilles, I +haven't an answer from papa; but I shall have one, +for two reasons. In the first place, Papa Chamblard +knows how to reason, and he will say to himself: +'What shall I gain by it? Instead of fooling +round with little white women in Paris, he will fool +round with little yellow ones at Singapore.' And +then another reason, the best one, is that Papa +Chamblard adores me, and he can't do without +me, and the little sentimental phrase at the end of +my despatch will appeal to his heart. You'll see +how it will turn out. At 11.20 my telegram will +leave Laroche; papa will receive it at half-past +twelve. And I'll bet you ten louis that at Dijon or +Mâcon I'll find in the wire screen of the station a +telegram addressed to me, and worded thus: 'Return; +no longer question of Antwerp marriage.' +Papa's telegram will be brief, because he is saving +and suppresses unnecessary words. Will you take +the bet?"</p> + +<p>"No, I should lose."</p> + +<p>"I think so. Have you the papers?"</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>They read three or four papers, Parisian papers, +and read them like true Parisians. It took a short +fifteen minutes. While reading they exchanged +short remarks about the new ministry, the races +at Auteuil, and Yvette Guilbert—particularly about +Yvette Guilbert. Young Chamblard had been to +hear her the day before, and he hummed the refrain:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span>"Un fiacre allait trottinant<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Cahin-caha<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Hu dia! Hop là!<br /></span> +<span>Un fiacre allait trottinant<br /></span> +<span>Jaune avec un cocher blanc."<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>And as the light cavalryman had never heard +Yvette Guilbert sing the "Fiacre," young Chamblard +threw up his arms and exclaimed: "You never +heard the 'Fiacre,' and you had three months' +leave! What did you do in Paris? <i>I</i> know the +'Fiacre' by heart."</p> + +<p>Upon which Raoul began to hum again, and +while humming in a voice which became more and +more slow, and more and more feeble, he settled +back into his arm-chair, and soon fell into a peaceful +slumber, like the big baby that he was.</p> + +<p>All at once he was waked up with a start by the +stepping of the train, and by the voice of the conductor, +who cried, "Ouah! Ouah! Ouah!" The +cry is the same for all stations. This time it was +meant for Laroche. And now for the telegram. +Young Chamblard ran to the telegraph-office. +The immovable operator counted the sixty-seven +words of that queer despatch. "All aboard, all +aboard!"</p> + +<p>Young Chamblard had scarcely time to jump on +the step of his car.</p> + +<p>"Ouf! that's done," he said to the cavalryman. +"Suppose we lunch."</p> + +<p>So they both started on their way to the dining-car. +It was quite a journey, for two parlor-cars +separated them from the restaurant-car, and those +two cars were crowded. It was the season for the +great pilgrimage of a few Parisians and a good +many English towards Nice, Cannes, and Monte +Carlo. The express was running very fast, and was +pitching violently. One needed sea-legs. Then a +furious wind beat against the train, and wrapped it +in clouds of dust, making the crossing of the platforms +particularly disagreeable.</p> + +<p>They advanced, walking with difficulty through +the first car, over the first crossing, and encountering +the first squall, then through the second car; but +Chamblard, who went ahead, had difficulty in opening +the door to the second platform. It resisted +on account of the force of the wind; finally it yielded, +and Raoul received at the same time in his +eyes a cloud of dust, and in his arms a young +blonde, who exclaimed, "Oh, excuse me!" while +he, too, exclaimed, "Oh, excuse me!" and at the +same time he received the cavalryman on his back, +who, also blinded by the dust, was saying, "Go on, +Raoul, go on."</p> + +<p>The two doors of the cars had shut, and they +were all three crowded in the little passage in the +wind—young Raoul, young Maurice, and the young +blonde.</p> + +<p>The "Oh, excuse me" was immediately followed +by a "M. Maurice!" which was replied to by a +"Mlle. Martha!" The little blonde knew the cavalryman, +and perceiving that she was almost in the +arms of a stranger, Mlle. Martha disengaged herself, +and backed cleverly towards the platform of +the car, saying to Maurice, "You're on the train, +and you're going?"</p> + +<p>"To Algeria."</p> + +<p>"We to Marseilles. I am getting a shawl for +mamma, who is cold. Mamma will be delighted to +see you. You will find her in the dining-car. I'll +see you later."</p> + +<p>"But I will accompany you?"</p> + +<p>"If you like."</p> + +<p>She walked on, but not without first having +slightly bowed to young Chamblard, who had remained +there astounded, contemplating Mlle. Martha +with eyes filled with admiration.</p> + +<p>She had time before going to notice that he was +a good-looking young fellow, that he wore a neat +little suit, and that he looked at her with staring +eyes; but in those staring eyes a thought could +be clearly read that could not displease her: "Oh, +how pretty you are!"</p> + +<p>Raoul was, in fact, saying to himself: "My type, +exactly my type! And what style—what style in +the simplicity of that costume! And the little +toque, a little on one side over the ear—it's a masterpiece! +How well she knows how to dress! What +an effect she would make in an audience! And +that little English accent!"</p> + +<p>For she had a little English accent; she had even +taken a good deal of trouble for several years to +acquire that little accent. She used to say to her +governess, Miss Butler:</p> + +<p>"Yes, of course I want to know English, but I +wish especially to speak French with an English +accent." She had worked for nothing else. She +had been, fortunately, rewarded for her perseverance; +her little Anglo-Parisian gibberish was at +times quite original.</p> + +<p>While Maurice was retracing his steps with Mlle. +Martha, Raoul placed himself at a table in the +dining-car. He soon saw them come back with +mamma's shawl. Maurice lingered for a few minutes +at the table where the mother and the young +brother of the little blonde were lunching. Then +he came back to Raoul, who said as soon as he +approached:</p> + +<p>"Who is she—quick, tell me, who is she? Whenever +one pleases I will marry her—now, on getting +down from the train. In my arms! I held her in +my arms! Such a waist! A dream! There are, +as you must know, slim waists and slim waists. +There are waists which are slim, hard, harsh, stiff, +bony, or mechanically made by odious artifices in +the corsets. I have thoroughly studied the corset +question. It's so important! And then there's the +true slim waist, which is easy, natural, supple. Supple +isn't sufficient for what just slid through my +hands a short time ago. Slippery—yes, that's the +word. Slippery just expresses my thought—a slippery +waist!"</p> + +<p>Raoul was quite charmed with what he said.</p> + +<p>"Yes," he continued, "slippery; and that little +pug-nose! and her little eyes have quite a—a Chinese +air! But who is she, who is she?"</p> + +<p>"The daughter of one of my mother's friends."</p> + +<p>"Is she rich?"</p> + +<p>"Very rich."</p> + +<p>"It's on account of papa that I asked you +that, because I would marry her without a dowry. +It's the first time I've ever said such a +thing on meeting a young girl. And now the +name."</p> + +<p>"Mlle. Martha Derame."</p> + +<p>"Derame, did you say?"</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>"Isn't the father a wealthy merchant who has +business in Japan and China?"</p> + +<p>"The same."</p> + +<p>"Ah, my dear fellow—no; one only sees such +things in the comic plays of the minor theatres, at +Cluny or Dejazet."</p> + +<p>"What's the matter with you?"</p> + +<p>"What's the matter with me? She's papa's Number +Three—yes, Number Three. The father of that +little marvel is one of papa's piquet players at the +club. And I wouldn't see Number Three, and she +falls into my arms on the platform between Paris +and Lyons. You will present me after lunch, and I +shall speak to the mother and tell her all."</p> + +<p>"How, all?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, all; that her daughter is papa's Number +Three, and that I didn't want Number One or Two, +but that I should like Number Three. Ah, dear boy, +how pretty she is—especially her nose, so charmingly +turned up. She has just looked at me, and in a +certain way; I am sure I don't displease her. Did +you mention me, did you tell my name?"</p> + +<p>"No."</p> + +<p>"You were wrong. At any rate, right after +lunch—Do you know what I think? That this +affair will go through on wheels. I shall first telegraph +papa, and then to-morrow—Oh, heavens! +I hope there's a telephone between Paris and Marseilles—"</p> + +<p>He interrupted himself and called:</p> + +<p>"Porter! Porter!"</p> + +<p>"Sir."</p> + +<p>"Is there a telephone between Paris and Marseilles?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, sir."</p> + +<p>"Ah! That's all Thanks. The telephone, +Maurice, there's the telephone! Papa can speak +for me to-morrow by telephone. It will be charming! +Marriage by express. Express, electric, telephonic, +and romantic marriage, all at the same +time. You understand that between a little phiz +like that and a voyage around the world I don't +hesitate. But why haven't you thought of marrying her?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, too wealthy—too wealthy a match for me; +and then she is not the kind of little person to go +and bury in a garrison town in Algeria. She is a +Parisian, a true Parisian, who wants to amuse herself, +and who will amuse herself."</p> + +<p>"Just what I want, absolutely just what I want. +I too wish to amuse myself. She will amuse herself, +I shall amuse myself, we will amuse ourselves."</p> + +<p>Young Raoul was in a frenzy, and as soon as he +had finished his luncheon he scrawled a new despatch +on the restaurant table to his father, and, +while writing, talked very excitedly.</p> + +<p>"I'll send my despatch from Dijon, and I'll address +it to the club; papa will be there about five +o'clock, and also the father of this little marvel. +They can immediately discuss the affair. Shall I +ask for an answer at Lyons? The time-table, pass +me the time-table. Lyons, 5.25. No, that would +be too short. Answer at Marseilles. They stop +at Marseilles? Yes? For twenty-four hours? All +right, so do I. At what hotel? Hôtel de Noailles? +All right, so do I. So answer Hôtel de Noailles. +My despatch is very good. You will see. As good +as the other—better, even. I've the knack of telegrams +to-day. Yes, it's very good."</p> + +<p>He wrote and wrote; he was inspired, he was animated; +he made a few more mistakes than usual +in spelling, that was all—it was emotion. He reread +his despatch with complaisance, he made Maurice +read it, who could not help thinking the incident +funny. Raoul counted the words of his despatch—there +were about a hundred and fifty—and calling +the waiter of the dining-car, he said, "Send this +telegram off for me at Dijon. Here are ten francs; +there will be two or three over for you."</p> + +<p>Then turning at once to Maurice he asked, "Is +that enough?"</p> + +<p>"Why certainly."</p> + +<p>"Well, for such a marriage—ah, my dear fellow, +you sail to-morrow at what time?"</p> + +<p>"At two o'clock."</p> + +<p>"Oh, we have plenty of time, then; all will be settled +by two o'clock."</p> + +<p>"Oh, settled; you're crazy!"</p> + +<p>"Not at all; it's already very far advanced, since +it's papa's Number Three. I only ask one thing of +you: present me to the mother shortly. After that +let me alone. I'll manage everything; only, at any +cost, we must leave our car and find two arm-chairs +in the same car, and near my mother-in-law."</p> + +<p>"Your mother-in-law!"</p> + +<p>"That's what I said; my mother-in-law. Once +the two arm-chairs are procured, I am master of the +situation. You don't know me. I already know +what I shall say to the mother, what I shall say to +my young brother-in-law (he is very nice), and what +I shall say to my future bride. I shall have made +a conquest of all of them before we reach Lyons. +Lyons? No; that's going a little fast—say Valence +or Montélimar. Pass me the time-table again. Let +us settle everything, and leave nothing to chance. +Oh, look at her! She has nibbled nuts for the last +fifteen minutes, and how she cracks them—crack! +one little bite—and what pretty little teeth! She +is very pretty even while eating—an important +thing. It's very rare to find women who remain +pretty while eating and sleeping, very rare. Little +Adelaide, the red-headed one, you remember, ate +stupidly. And this one over there eats brightly; +she eats—crack! another nut—and she looks at me +on the sly. I can see that she looks at me. All +goes well, all goes well!"</p> + +<p>In truth, all did go well. At Montbard, 12.32, +Raoul was presented to Mme. Derame, who, on +hearing the name of Chamblard, had a little shiver—the +shiver of a mother who has a young daughter +to marry, and who says to herself, "Oh, what a +splendid match!" Her husband had often spoken +to her of young Chamblard.</p> + +<p>"Ah," he used to say to her, "what a marriage +for Martha! We speak of it sometimes before and +after our piquet, Chamblard and I; but the young +man is restive—doesn't yet wish to settle down. +It would be such a good thing—he is richer than +we. Chamblard is once, twice, three times richer! +And Martha isn't easy to marry; she has already +refused five or six desirable matches on all sorts +of pretexts. They didn't please her: they were too +old, they had no style, they didn't live in fashionable +neighborhoods, she didn't wish to go into +sugar, or cotton, or wine—or anything, in short. +She would accept none other than a young husband, +and not too serious. She must have a very +rich man who did nothing and loved pleasure."</p> + +<p>How well young Chamblard answered to that +description! When there was question of doing +nothing, Raoul showed real talent. As soon as one +talked horses, dogs, carriages, hats, dresses, jewelry, +races, fencing, skating, cooking, etc., he showed +signs of the rarest and highest competence.</p> + +<p>So, as there was general conversation, Raoul +was very brilliant. In the neighborhood of Châlons-sur-Saône +(3.10), while relating how he, Chamblard, +had invented a marvellous little coupé, he +did not say that: that coupé had been offered by +him to Mlle. Juliette Lorphelin, of the ballet corps +at the Folies-Bergère. This coupé was a marvel; +besides, it was very well known; it was called the +Chamblard coupé.</p> + +<p>"Small," he said, "very small. A coupé ought +always to be small." But what a lot of things in +such a small space: a drawer for toilet necessaries, +a secret box for money and jewelry, a clock, a thermometer, +a barometer, a writing-shelf—and that +was not all!</p> + +<p>He became animated, and grew excited in speaking +of his invention. Martha listened to him eagerly.</p> + +<p>"When you pull up the four wooden shutters +you naturally find yourself in the dark; but the four +shutters are mirrors, and as soon as one has placed +a finger on a little button hidden under the right-hand +cushion, six little crystal balls, ingeniously +scattered in the tufting of the blue satin of the +coupé, become electric lights. The coupé is turned +into a little lighted boudoir; and not only for five +minutes—no, but for an hour, two hours, if one +wishes it; there is a storage-battery under the seat. +When I submitted this idea to my carriage-maker +he was smitten with envy and admiration."</p> + +<p>Martha, too, was smitten.</p> + +<p>"What a charming man!" she said to herself. +"Oh, to have such a coupé! But pearl-gray—I +should want it pearl-gray."</p> + +<p>Then they discussed jewelry, dresses, hats, stuffs. +And Raoul proved on all those questions, if possible, +more remarkable than ever. He had paid so +many bills to great dress-makers, great milliners, +and great jewellers! He had been present at so +many conferences on the cut of such a dress or the +arrangement of such a costume, at so many scenes +of trying on and draping! And as he drew easily, +he willingly threw his ideas on paper, as he said, +neatly. He had even designed the costumes of +a little piece—played in I do not know what little +theatre—which was revolutionary, anarchistic, symbolistic, +decadent, end of the century, end of the +world.</p> + +<p>He took his little note-book and began to outline +with a light hand, in spite of the movement of +the train, several of his creations. He had tact, and +thought of everything. "It was," he said, "for +charades played in society at my friend's, the baron +so and so." He invented the baron, and gave him +a resonant name.</p> + +<p>Martha was delighted. Never had a man, since +she had been allowed to chat a little with young +men, seemed to her to have such an original and +interesting conversation.</p> + +<p>"Lately," said Raoul, "one of my cousins—she +often applies to me—consulted me about a dress +for a ball at Nice, during the carnival. This is +what I advised her. See, I draw at the same time—look."</p> + +<p>Oh, how she did look!</p> + +<p>"I am going to try to make myself well understood. +A foundation of smooth white satin, clinging, +very clinging—blue, I adore blue."</p> + +<p>That pained her; she disliked blue.</p> + +<p>"Yes, very clinging; my cousin has a delightful +figure, and can stand it."</p> + +<p>He took Martha's figure in with a hasty glance, +and the glance seemed to say, "You could, too." +She understood and blushed, charmed with that +delicate flattery. Raoul continued:</p> + +<p>"Pale, very pale blue satin. Then on my foundation +I threw an over-dress of pompadour lace of +very soft tones: greens, pinks, mauves, cream, and +azure. Very large sleeves with a double puff of blue +velvet, wristlets of Venetian point. Am I clear?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, very clear, very clear."</p> + +<p>And in an excited voice she repeated:</p> + +<p>"A double puff of blue velvet, with wristlets of +Venetian point."</p> + +<p>All of a sudden the brakes scraped, and the train +came sharply to a stop. One heard the cry of +"Mâcon! Mâcon!"</p> + +<p>"Mâcon already!" said Martha.</p> + +<p>That "<i>already</i>" rang delightfully in Raoul's ears. +There was much in that <i>already</i>. Raoul profited +by the five minutes' stop to complete and fix his +little sketch, which was slightly jolted; and he did +not notice that his young brother-in-law had been +sent out with a despatch to the telegraph-office. +The despatch had been secretly written by Mme. +Derame, and had, too, been directed to the Old +Club.</p> + +<p>The train started—4.11. Raoul had not thought +to get down to see if under the railing there was +not a despatch addressed to him. There was one, +which was to remain eternally at Mâcon. The telegram +contained these words: "Return; no longer +question of Antwerp marriage."</p> + +<p>The train ran on and on, and now there was +question of another dress—a silk dress, light pink, +with a large jabot of lace down the front. Raoul +literally dazzled Martha by his inexhaustible fertility +of wise expressions and technical terms.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>While the express passed the Romanèche station +(4.32) father Chamblard came into the Old Club, +went into the card-room, and met father Derame. +Piquet? With pleasure. So there they sat, face +to face. There were there eight or ten card-tables—piquet, +bezique, whist, etc. The works were in full +blast. First game, and papa Derame is rubiconed; +the second game was going to begin when a footman +arrives with a despatch for M. Chamblard.</p> + +<p>"Will you excuse me?"</p> + +<p>"Certainly."</p> + +<p>He reads, he becomes red; he rereads, and he +gets scarlet.</p> + +<p>It was Raoul's brilliant telegram from Dijon:</p> + +<p>"Dear father, I shall not go. Most extraordinary +meeting. Your Number Three—yes, your +Number Three—in the train with her mother, and +I wouldn't see her. Ah! if I had known. Strike +while the iron's hot; I'm striking it, strike it too. +M. D. must be at the club, speak to him at once; +tell him that I left to avoid marrying an ugly woman; +that I only wish to make a love-match; that I +am head-over-heels in love with his daughter. We +shall all be to-night at Marseilles, Hôtel de Noailles. +Get M. D. to back me up by telegraph to +Mme. D. I will talk with you to-morrow over the +telephone. I am writing my telegram in the dining-car. +At this moment she is nibbling nuts—charming, +she is charming! She fell into my arms on the +platform. Till to-morrow at the telephone, nine +o'clock."</p> + +<p>M. Chamblard's agitation did not escape M. +Derame.</p> + +<p>"Is it a serious matter?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>"We can stop if you wish."</p> + +<p>"Yes; but first of all, did Mme. and Mlle. Derame +leave here this morning on the express for +Marseilles?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, at 9.55. Why do you ask that? Has +there been any accident?"</p> + +<p>"No, no accident; it can't be called that; on +the contrary. Come, come into the little parlor."</p> + +<p>He told him everything, showed him the despatch, +gave him certain necessary explanations +about the words, such as Number Three. And there +they were, choking, delighted—both the father of +the young man and the father of the young girl. +What luck, what a providential meeting!</p> + +<p>"But you told me that your son didn't wish to +marry."</p> + +<p>"He didn't wish to, but he has seen your daughter, +and now he wishes to. Come, hurry up and +send a telegram to Marseilles to Mme. Derame."</p> + +<p>"But she will be thunderstruck when I present +to her a son-in-law by telegraph."</p> + +<p>Return of the footman. It was a despatch for +M. Derame. He opens it.</p> + +<p>"It's from my wife, from Mâcon, 2.15."</p> + +<p>"Good," says M. Chamblard; "all goes well, very +well."</p> + +<p>"Very disturbed. Met in the train the son of +M. C., of Rue Rougemont, your club friend. He +was presented by Maurice. You often spoke to +me of a possible alliance there. Evidently he thinks +her charming. Just at present he is talking to her, +and looks at her, looks at her. What shall I do? +Shall I put a stop to it or allow it to continue? +Large fortune, isn't there?"</p> + +<p>M. Derame in his turn showed his despatch to +M. Chamblard. They continued to talk, in high +good-humor and in excellent accord, and went on +with their game of piquet only after having sent the +following two telegrams to the Hôtel de Noailles:</p> + +<p>First despatch to Mme. Derame: "If it pleases +you, if it pleases her, yes. Enormous fortune."</p> + +<p>Second despatch to Raoul: "Have spoken to +D. He is telegraphing to Mme. D. He approves, +so do I."</p> + +<p>A footman carried the two despatches at the +same time to the telegraph-office in the Place de la +Bourse, and during the time that, running over +the wires along the railroad, they passed the express +towards half-past six in the neighborhood of +Saint-Rambert, the Derames, Raoul, and Maurice, +in the best possible spirits and in most perfect +harmony, dined at the same table, and Martha +looked at Raoul, and Raoul looked at Martha, and +Mme. Derame said to herself: "Martha's falling in +love; I know her, she is falling in love. She fell in +love just so last year at a ball with a little youth +who was very dandified, but without fortune. This +time, luckily, yes—Edward told me so—there is +plenty of money; so, naturally, if Martha is willing +we are."</p> + +<p>The train ran on, and on, and on; and Raoul +talked, and talked, and talked. He even let slip +practical thoughts, raised himself up to general +ideas, and developed with force the theory that +the first duty of a woman was to be, in all things, +refined elegance. He explained, with endless detail, +what the life of an absolutely correct fashionable +woman was, what it was to be an absolutely +fashionable woman. He triumphantly took <i>his +fashionable woman</i> from Paris to Trouville, from +Trouville to Lake Como, from Lake Como to Monte-Carlo. +He drew the trunks of the fashionable +woman, marvellous trunks, which were heaped up +in the vestibules of first-class hotels. Besides, he +had also invented a trunk.</p> + +<p>Then, very tactfully, he put Martha through a +little examination, which had nothing in common +with the examinations of the Sorbonne or the Hôtel +de Ville.</p> + +<p>"Did she skate?" That's what he wanted to +know first! He was himself a very distinguished +skater. He needed a sport-loving wife. He had +but just pronounced the word skating when suddenly +the young brother (how precious little brothers +sometimes are) exclaimed: "Ah, it's sister who +skates well! She makes figures-of-eight. And who +swims well, too—like a fish!"</p> + +<p>She skated, she swam, she was sport-loving. +Raoul said to the young girl, with deep enthusiasm: +"I congratulate you. A woman who can't swim +isn't a woman."</p> + +<p>And he added, with increasing energy:</p> + +<p>"A woman who can't skate isn't a woman."</p> + +<p>When he had a strong thought, he willingly used +it again in a brief but striking form.</p> + +<p>Martha's face beamed with joy. She was really +a woman. Never had a sweeter word been said to +her.</p> + +<p>Night had come; it was necessary, therefore, to +tear one's self away from that exquisite conversation, +and return to the parlor-car. Young Derame +was going to sleep; so they began to prepare for +the trip through the train.</p> + +<p>Here is the platform, the platform of the morning, +the platform of the first meeting. She walks +ahead of him, and in a whisper he says to her, "It's +here that this morning—"</p> + +<p>She turns round, and smiling repeats, "Yes, it's +here that this morning—"</p> + +<p>Always with that little English accent which +never leaves her, even when she is most agitated.</p> + +<p><i>It is here that this morning</i>—That was all, and +it said all. A delightful evening. No more rain, +no more dust. Already there was the soft, balmy +air of the South. The moon lit that idyl at full +speed. Spring-time everywhere, in the sky and in +the hearts.</p> + +<p>"She loves me," he said to himself.</p> + +<p>"He adores me," she said to herself.</p> + +<p>How right they were to give themselves up thus, +without a struggle, without resistance, to the inclination +which carried them, quite naturally, towards +each other. There had been between them, +from the first word, so perfect, so complete a community +of tastes, ideas, and sentiments. They were +so well made, this little puppet and this little doll, +to roll off, both together, gloriously in the "Chamblard +coupé," so well matched to walk in the world, +accomplishing mechanically, automatically, at the +right hour, in the prescribed costume, everywhere +where it was correct to take pleasure, all the functions +of fashionable life, and all the rituals of worldly +worship.</p> + +<p>They arrive in the parlor-car. The shades are +drawn over the lamps; travellers are stiff, drowsy, +and asleep in the big red arm-chairs.</p> + +<p>"Change places," Raoul whispers to Maurice; +"sit beside her. I am going to sit by the mother; +I must speak to her."</p> + +<p>Maurice lent himself to this manœuvre with perfect +docility, Martha did not understand it. Why +did he abandon her? Why was he talking to her +mother, and so low, so low that she couldn't hear? +What was he saying? What was he saying?</p> + +<p>This is what he said between Montélimar, 8.35, +and Pierrelatte, 8.55:</p> + +<p>"Listen to me, madam, listen to me. I am an +honest man; I wish, I ought, to let you know the +situation, the entire situation. Let us first settle +an important point. My father knows M. Derame."</p> + +<p>"Yes, yes, I know."</p> + +<p>"Another more important point. Let us mention +the essential things first. My father is very +rich."</p> + +<p>"I know, I know that too."</p> + +<p>"Good, then, very good. I continue. I left Paris +this morning, and I have here in my pocket a ticket +for cabin No. 27 on the <i>Traonaddy</i>, which leaves +to-morrow at four o'clock from the Bay of Joliette +for Suez, Aden, Colombo, and Singapore, and I +shall go on board to-morrow at four o'clock if you +don't let me hope to become your son-in-law."</p> + +<p>"Sir!"</p> + +<p>"Don't move, madam, don't move. Mlle. Martha +is pretending to sleep, but she isn't sleeping; +she is watching us, and I haven't said all yet. I +am but just beginning. You are going to answer +me—oh, I know it—that you don't know me, that +Mlle. Martha doesn't know me. Allow me to tell +you that Mlle. Martha and myself know each other +better than three-fourths of engaged couples on the +day of their marriage. You know how it is usually +done. A rapid glance from afar in a theatre—one +brings good lorgnettes, one examines. 'How do +you like him?' 'Fairly, fairly.' Then, several days +later, at a ball, in the midst of the figures of +the quadrille, several gasping, breathless phrases +are exchanged. Then a meeting in a picture-gallery. +There, there is more intimacy, because it +takes place in a small room. It happened to me +with a young provincial. I had pegged away that +morning at the Joanne guide, so as to be able to +find something to say about the Raphaels and the +Murillos. And at the end of several interviews of +that sort it is over, one has made acquaintance, +one suits the other, and the marriage is decided. +Mlle. Martha and I are already old comrades. In +the first place, to begin with, this morning at half-past +eleven she fell into my arms."</p> + +<p>"My daughter in your arms!"</p> + +<p>"Don't jump, madam; Mlle. Martha will see you +jump."</p> + +<p>Martha had, in fact, closely followed the scene +with half-shut eyes, and said to herself, "Good gracious! +what is he telling mamma? She is obliged +to hold on to the arms of her seat to keep herself +from jumping up."</p> + +<p>"Yes, madam, in my arms; by the greatest, by +the most fortunate of accidents, we stumbled over +each other on one of the platforms of the train. +And since I have seen her, not in the false light +of a theatre or a gallery, but in the full glare of sunlight. +I have seen her at lunch, munching nuts with +the prettiest teeth there are in the world; I have +seen her, just now, in the moonlight; and I know +that she skates, and I know that she swims, and I +know she would like to have a pearl-gray coupé, and +she ought to have it. And now I admire her in the +semi-obscurity. Ravishing! isn't she ravishing?"</p> + +<p>"Sir, never has a mother found herself—"</p> + +<p>"In such a situation? I acknowledge it, madam, +and for that very reason you must get out of the +situation quickly; it's evident that it can't be prolonged."</p> + +<p>"That's true—"</p> + +<p>"Here is what I propose to you. You go to the +Hôtel de Noailles; I, too, naturally. You have all +the morning to-morrow to talk to Mlle. Martha, and +the telephone to talk through to M. Derame. You +know who I am. You have seen me, too, in the +daylight. I have talked—talked a great deal. You +could, you and Mlle. Martha, find out what I am, +what I think. Well, to-morrow—what time do you +expect to breakfast to-morrow?"</p> + +<p>"But I don't know. I assure you that I am +choking, upset, overcome."</p> + +<p>"Let us settle on an hour all the same; eleven +o'clock—will you, at eleven?"</p> + +<p>"If you wish."</p> + +<p>"Well, to-morrow at eleven o'clock I shall be in +the dining-room of the hotel. If you say 'Go' I +shall go; if you say 'Stay' I shall stay. Don't +answer me; take time to reflect; it's worth while. +Till to-morrow, madam, till to-morrow at eleven."</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>In the morning very interesting communications +passed between Paris and Marseilles.</p> + +<p>When Mme. Derame entered the dining-room of +the hotel at eleven o'clock, Raoul went straight to +her, and the cavalryman, always adroit in his manœuvres, +had taken possession of Mlle. Martha. A +short dialogue ensued between Raoul and Mme. +Derame, who was much agitated.</p> + +<p>"They tell me there are boats every fortnight +between Indo-China and Marseilles—you could put +off your departure—merely taking another boat—"</p> + +<p>"Ah, thanks, madam, thanks!"</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>At two o'clock the Derames and young Chamblard +accompanied Maurice to the boat for Africa. +On the deck of the steamer Raoul said to his +friend:</p> + +<p>"It's understood that you are to be best man. +On arriving, ask your colonel for leave at once. It +will take place, I think, in six weeks."</p> + +<p>Raoul was mistaken. It was decidedly an express +marriage; five weeks were sufficient.</p> + +<p>When they were mounting the steps of the +Madeleine, Raoul said to Martha:</p> + +<p>"Twelve o'clock."</p> + +<p>"What are you thinking of?"</p> + +<p>"Ah, you too."</p> + +<p>"Twelve, the hour of the platform, isn't it?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, that's it."</p> + +<p>They began to laugh, but quickly became serious, +and made an irreproachable entry into church.</p> + +<p>They were looked at eagerly, and on all sides +the following remarks were exchanged:</p> + +<p>"You know it's a love-match." "Yes, it appears +it was a meeting on the train." "A lightning-stroke!" +"What a charming affair!" "And so +rare!" "Oh yes, so rare! A love-match! A true +love-match!"</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>THE END</h2> +<hr style="width: 95%;" /> + + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's Parisian Points of View, by Ludovic Halévy + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK PARISIAN POINTS OF VIEW *** + +***** This file should be named 15465-h.htm or 15465-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/1/5/4/6/15465/ + +Produced by Juliet Sutherland, Melissa Er-Raqabi and the +Online Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net. + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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