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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: A Second Home + +Author: Honore de Balzac + +Translator: Clara Bell + +Release Date: March 2, 2010 [EBook #1810] +Last Updated: November 22, 2016 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: UTF-8 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK A SECOND HOME *** + + + + +Produced by John Bickers, and Dagny + + + + + +</pre> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <h1> + A SECOND HOME + </h1> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <h2> + By Honore De Balzac + </h2> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <h3> + Translated by Clara Bell + </h3> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <h3> + DEDICATION<br /><br /> To Madame la Comtesse Louise de Turheim as a token of<br /> + remembrance and affectionate respect.<br /> + </h3> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <h3> + <a href="#link2H_4_0001"> A SECOND HOME </a><br /><br /> <a + href="#link2H_4_0002"> ADDENDUM </a><br /> + </h3> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <a name="link2H_4_0001" id="link2H_4_0001"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <h1> + A SECOND HOME + </h1> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <p> + The Rue du Tourniquet-Saint-Jean, formerly one of the darkest and most + tortuous of the streets about the Hotel de Ville, zigzagged round the + little gardens of the Paris Prefecture, and ended at the Rue Martroi, + exactly at the angle of an old wall now pulled down. Here stood the + turnstile to which the street owed its name; it was not removed till 1823, + when the Municipality built a ballroom on the garden plot adjoining the + Hotel de Ville, for the fete given in honor of the Duc d’Angouleme on his + return from Spain. + </p> + <p> + The widest part of the Rue du Tourniquet was the end opening into the Rue + de la Tixeranderie, and even there it was less than six feet across. Hence + in rainy weather the gutter water was soon deep at the foot of the old + houses, sweeping down with it the dust and refuse deposited at the + corner-stones by the residents. As the dust-carts could not pass through, + the inhabitants trusted to storms to wash their always miry alley; for how + could it be clean? When the summer sun shed its perpendicular rays on + Paris like a sheet of gold, but as piercing as the point of a sword, it + lighted up the blackness of this street for a few minutes without drying + the permanent damp that rose from the ground-floor to the first story of + these dark and silent tenements. + </p> + <p> + The residents, who lighted their lamps at five o’clock in the month of + June, in winter never put them out. To this day the enterprising wayfarer + who should approach the Marais along the quays, past the end of the Rue du + Chaume, the Rues de l’Homme Arme, des Billettes, and des Deux-Portes, all + leading to the Rue du Tourniquet, might think he had passed through + cellars all the way. + </p> + <p> + Almost all the streets of old Paris, of which ancient chronicles laud the + magnificence, were like this damp and gloomy labyrinth, where the + antiquaries still find historical curiosities to admire. For instance, on + the house then forming the corner where the Rue du Tourniquet joined the + Rue de la Tixeranderie, the clamps might still be seen of two strong iron + rings fixed to the wall, the relics of the chains put up every night by + the watch to secure public safety. + </p> + <p> + This house, remarkable for its antiquity, had been constructed in a way + that bore witness to the unhealthiness of these old dwellings; for, to + preserve the ground-floor from damp, the arches of the cellars rose about + two feet above the soil, and the house was entered up three outside steps. + The door was crowned by a closed arch, of which the keystone bore a female + head and some time-eaten arabesques. Three windows, their sills about five + feet from the ground, belonged to a small set of rooms looking out on the + Rue du Tourniquet, whence they derived their light. These windows were + protected by strong iron bars, very wide apart, and ending below in an + outward curve like the bars of a baker’s window. + </p> + <p> + If any passer-by during the day were curious enough to peep into the two + rooms forming this little dwelling, he could see nothing; for only under + the sun of July could he discern, in the second room, two beds hung with + green serge, placed side by side under the paneling of an old-fashioned + alcove; but in the afternoon, by about three o’clock, when the candles + were lighted, through the pane of the first room an old woman might be + seen sitting on a stool by the fireplace, where she nursed the fire in a + brazier, to simmer a stew, such as porters’ wives are expert in. A few + kitchen utensils, hung up against the wall, were visible in the twilight. + </p> + <p> + At that hour an old table on trestles, but bare of linen, was laid with + pewter-spoons, and the dish concocted by the old woman. Three wretched + chairs were all the furniture of this room, which was at once the kitchen + and the dining-room. Over the chimney-piece were a piece of looking-glass, + a tinder-box, three glasses, some matches, and a large, cracked white jug. + Still, the floor, the utensils, the fireplace, all gave a pleasant sense + of the perfect cleanliness and thrift that pervaded the dull and gloomy + home. + </p> + <p> + The old woman’s pale, withered face was quite in harmony with the darkness + of the street and the mustiness of the place. As she sat there, + motionless, in her chair, it might have been thought that she was as + inseparable from the house as a snail from its brown shell; her face, + alert with a vague expression of mischief, was framed in a flat cap made + of net, which barely covered her white hair; her fine, gray eyes were as + quiet as the street, and the many wrinkles in her face might be compared + to the cracks in the walls. Whether she had been born to poverty, or had + fallen from some past splendor, she now seemed to have been long resigned + to her melancholy existence. + </p> + <p> + From sunrise till dark, excepting when she was getting a meal ready, or, + with a basket on her arm, was out purchasing provisions, the old woman sat + in the adjoining room by the further window, opposite a young girl. At any + hour of the day the passer-by could see the needlewoman seated in an old, + red velvet chair, bending over an embroidery frame, and stitching + indefatigably. + </p> + <p> + Her mother had a green pillow on her knee, and busied herself with + hand-made net; but her fingers could move the bobbin but slowly; her sight + was feeble, for on her nose there rested a pair of those antiquated + spectacles which keep their place on the nostrils by the grip of a spring. + By night these two hardworking women set a lamp between them; and the + light, concentrated by two globe-shaped bottles of water, showed the elder + the fine network made by the threads on her pillow, and the younger the + most delicate details of the pattern she was embroidering. The outward + bend of the window had allowed the girl to rest a box of earth on the + window-sill, in which grew some sweet peas, nasturtiums, a sickly little + honeysuckle, and some convolvulus that twined its frail stems up the iron + bars. These etiolated plants produced a few pale flowers, and added a + touch of indescribable sadness and sweetness to the picture offered by + this window, in which the two figures were appropriately framed. + </p> + <p> + The most selfish soul who chanced to see this domestic scene would carry + away with him a perfect image of the life led in Paris by the working + class of women, for the embroideress evidently lived by her needle. Many, + as they passed through the turnstile, found themselves wondering how a + girl could preserve her color, living in such a cellar. A student of + lively imagination, going that way to cross to the Quartier-Latin, would + compare this obscure and vegetative life to that of the ivy that clung to + these chill walls, to that of the peasants born to labor, who are born, + toil, and die unknown to the world they have helped to feed. A + house-owner, after studying the house with the eye of a valuer, would have + said, “What will become of those two women if embroidery should go out of + fashion?” Among the men who, having some appointment at the Hotel de Ville + or the Palais de Justice, were obliged to go through this street at fixed + hours, either on their way to business or on their return home, there may + have been some charitable soul. Some widower or Adonis of forty, brought + so often into the secrets of these sad lives, may perhaps have reckoned on + the poverty of this mother and daughter, and have hoped to become the + master at no great cost of the innocent work-woman, whose nimble and + dimpled fingers, youthful figure, and white skin—a charm due, no + doubt, to living in this sunless street—had excited his admiration. + Perhaps, again, some honest clerk, with twelve hundred francs a year, + seeing every day the diligence the girl gave to her needle, and + appreciating the purity of her life, was only waiting for improved + prospects to unite one humble life with another, one form of toil to + another, and to bring at any rate a man’s arm and a calm affection, + pale-hued like the flowers in the window, to uphold this home. + </p> + <p> + Vague hope certainly gave life to the mother’s dim, gray eyes. Every + morning, after the most frugal breakfast, she took up her pillow, though + chiefly for the look of the thing, for she would lay her spectacles on a + little mahogany worktable as old as herself, and look out of the window + from about half-past eight till ten at the regular passers in the street; + she caught their glances, remarked on their gait, their dress, their + countenance, and almost seemed to be offering her daughter, her gossiping + eyes so evidently tried to attract some magnetic sympathy by manoeuvres + worthy of the stage. It was evident that this little review was as good as + a play to her, and perhaps her single amusement. + </p> + <p> + The daughter rarely looked up. Modesty, or a painful consciousness of + poverty, seemed to keep her eyes riveted to the work-frame; and only some + exclamation of surprise from her mother moved her to show her small + features. Then a clerk in a new coat, or who unexpectedly appeared with a + woman on his arm, might catch sight of the girl’s slightly upturned nose, + her rosy mouth, and gray eyes, always bright and lively in spite of her + fatiguing toil. Her late hours had left a trace on her face by a pale + circle marked under each eye on the fresh rosiness of her cheeks. The poor + child looked as if she were made for love and cheerfulness—for love, + which had drawn two perfect arches above her eyelids, and had given her + such a mass of chestnut hair, that she might have hidden under it as under + a tent, impenetrable to the lover’s eye—for cheerfulness, which gave + quivering animation to her nostrils, which carved two dimples in her rosy + cheeks, and made her quick to forget her troubles; cheerfulness, the + blossom of hope, which gave her strength to look out without shuddering on + the barren path of life. + </p> + <p> + The girl’s hair was always carefully dressed. After the manner of Paris + needlewomen, her toilet seemed to her quite complete when she had brushed + her hair smooth and tucked up the little short curls that played on each + temple in contrast with the whiteness of her skin. The growth of it on the + back of her neck was so pretty, and the brown line, so clearly traced, + gave such a pleasing idea of her youth and charm, that the observer, + seeing her bent over her work, and unmoved by any sound, was inclined to + think of her as a coquette. Such inviting promise had excited the interest + of more than one young man, who turned round in the vain hope of seeing + that modest countenance. + </p> + <p> + “Caroline, there is a new face that passes regularly by, and not one of + the old ones to compare with it.” + </p> + <p> + These words, spoken in a low voice by her mother one August morning in + 1815, had vanquished the young needlewoman’s indifference, and she looked + out on the street; but in vain, the stranger was gone. + </p> + <p> + “Where has he flown to?” said she. + </p> + <p> + “He will come back no doubt at four; I shall see him coming, and will + touch your foot with mine. I am sure he will come back; he has been + through the street regularly for the last three days; but his hours vary. + The first day he came by at six o’clock, the day before yesterday it was + four, yesterday as early as three. I remember seeing him occasionally some + time ago. He is some clerk in the Prefet’s office who has moved to the + Marais.—Why!” she exclaimed, after glancing down the street, “our + gentleman of the brown coat has taken to wearing a wig; how much it alters + him!” + </p> + <p> + The gentleman of the brown coat was, it would seem, the individual who + commonly closed the daily procession, for the old woman put on her + spectacles and took up her work with a sigh, glancing at her daughter with + so strange a look that Lavater himself would have found it difficult to + interpret. Admiration, gratitude, a sort of hope for better days, were + mingled with pride at having such a pretty daughter. + </p> + <p> + At about four in the afternoon the old lady pushed her foot against + Caroline’s, and the girl looked up quickly enough to see the new actor, + whose regular advent would thenceforth lend variety to the scene. He was + tall and thin, and wore black, a man of about forty, with a certain + solemnity of demeanor; as his piercing hazel eye met the old woman’s dull + gaze, he made her quake, for she felt as though he had the gift of reading + hearts, or much practice in it, and his presence must surely be as icy as + the air of this dank street. Was the dull, sallow complexion of that + ominous face due to excess of work, or the result of delicate health? + </p> + <p> + The old woman supplied twenty different answers to this question; but + Caroline, next day, discerned the lines of long mental suffering on that + brow that was so prompt to frown. The rather hollow cheeks of the Unknown + bore the stamp of the seal which sorrow sets on its victims as if to grant + them the consolation of common recognition and brotherly union for + resistance. Though the girl’s expression was at first one of lively but + innocent curiosity, it assumed a look of gentle sympathy as the stranger + receded from view, like a last relation following in a funeral train. + </p> + <p> + The heat of the weather was so great, and the gentleman was so + absent-minded, that he had taken off his hat and forgotten to put it on + again as he went down the squalid street. Caroline could see the stern + look given to his countenance by the way the hair was brushed from his + forehead. The strong impression, devoid of charm, made on the girl by this + man’s appearance was totally unlike any sensation produced by the other + passengers who used the street; for the first time in her life she was + moved to pity for some one else than herself and her mother; she made no + reply to the absurd conjectures that supplied material for the old woman’s + provoking volubility, and drew her long needle in silence through the web + of stretched net; she only regretted not having seen the stranger more + closely, and looked forward to the morrow to form a definite opinion of + him. + </p> + <p> + It was the first time, indeed, that a man passing down the street had ever + given rise to much thought in her mind. She generally had nothing but a + smile in response to her mother’s hypotheses, for the old woman looked on + every passer-by as a possible protector for her daughter. And if such + suggestions, so crudely presented, gave rise to no evil thoughts in + Caroline’s mind, her indifference must be ascribed to the persistent and + unfortunately inevitable toil in which the energies of her sweet youth + were being spent, and which would infallibly mar the clearness of her eyes + or steal from her fresh cheeks the bloom that still colored them. + </p> + <p> + For two months or more the “Black Gentleman”—the name they had given + him—was erratic in his movements; he did not always come down the + Rue du Tourniquet; the old woman sometimes saw him in the evening when he + had not passed in the morning, and he did not come by at such regular + hours as the clerks who served Madame Crochard instead of a clock; + moreover, excepting on the first occasion, when his look had given the old + mother a sense of alarm, his eyes had never once dwelt on the weird + picture of these two female gnomes. With the exception of two + carriage-gates and a dark ironmonger’s shop, there were in the Rue du + Tourniquet only barred windows, giving light to the staircases of the + neighboring houses; thus the stranger’s lack of curiosity was not to be + accounted for by the presence of dangerous rivals; and Madame Crochard was + greatly piqued to see her “Black Gentleman” always lost in thought, his + eyes fixed on the ground, or straight before him, as though he hoped to + read the future in the fog of the Rue du Tourniquet. However, one morning, + about the middle of September, Caroline Crochard’s roguish face stood out + so brightly against the dark background of the room, looking so fresh + among the belated flowers and faded leaves that twined round the + window-bars, the daily scene was gay with such contrasts of light and + shade, of pink and white blending with the light material on which the + pretty needlewoman was working, and with the red and brown hues of the + chairs, that the stranger gazed very attentively at the effects of this + living picture. In point of fact, the old woman, provoked by her “Black + Gentleman’s” indifference, had made such a clatter with her bobbins that + the gloomy and pensive passer-by was perhaps prompted to look up by the + unusual noise. + </p> + <p> + The stranger merely exchanged glances with Caroline, swift indeed, but + enough to effect a certain contact between their souls, and both were + aware that they would think of each other. When the stranger came by + again, at four in the afternoon, Caroline recognized the sound of his step + on the echoing pavement; they looked steadily at each other, and with + evident purpose; his eyes had an expression of kindliness which made him + smile, and Caroline colored; the old mother noted them with satisfaction. + Ever after that memorable afternoon, the Gentleman in Black went by twice + a day, with rare exceptions, which both the women observed. They concluded + from the irregularity of the hours of his homecoming that he was not + released so early, nor so precisely punctual as a subordinate official. + </p> + <p> + All through the first three winter months, twice a day, Caroline and the + stranger thus saw each other for so long as it took him to traverse the + piece of road that lay along the length of the door and three windows of + the house. Day after day this brief interview had the hue of friendly + sympathy which at last had acquired a sort of fraternal kindness. Caroline + and the stranger seemed to understand each other from the first; and then, + by dint of scrutinizing each other’s faces, they learned to know them + well. Ere long it came to be, as it were, a visit that the Unknown owed to + Caroline; if by any chance her Gentleman in Black went by without + bestowing on her the half-smile of his expressive lips, or the cordial + glance of his brown eyes, something was missing to her all day. She felt + as an old man does to whom the daily study of a newspaper is such an + indispensable pleasure that on the day after any great holiday he wanders + about quite lost, and seeking, as much out of vagueness as for want of + patience, the sheet by which he cheats an hour of life. + </p> + <p> + But these brief meetings had the charm of intimate friendliness, quite as + much for the stranger as for Caroline. The girl could no more hide a + vexation, a grief, or some slight ailment from the keen eye of her + appreciative friend than he could conceal anxiety from hers. + </p> + <p> + “He must have had some trouble yesterday,” was the thought that constantly + arose in the embroideress’ mind as she saw some change in the features of + the “Black Gentleman.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, he has been working too hard!” was a reflection due to another shade + of expression which Caroline could discern. + </p> + <p> + The stranger, on his part, could guess when the girl had spent Sunday in + finishing a dress, and he felt an interest in the pattern. As quarter-day + came near he could see that her pretty face was clouded by anxiety, and he + could guess when Caroline had sat up late at work; but above all, he noted + how the gloomy thoughts that dimmed the cheerful and delicate features of + her young face gradually vanished by degrees as their acquaintance + ripened. When winter had killed the climbers and plants of her window + garden, and the window was kept closed, it was not without a smile of + gentle amusement that the stranger observed the concentration of the light + within, just at the level of Caroline’s head. The very small fire and the + frosty red of the two women’s faces betrayed the poverty of their home; + but if ever his own countenance expressed regretful compassion, the girl + proudly met it with assumed cheerfulness. + </p> + <p> + Meanwhile the feelings that had arisen in their hearts remained buried + there, no incident occurring to reveal to either of them how deep and + strong they were in the other; they had never even heard the sound of each + other’s voice. These mute friends were even on their guard against any + nearer acquaintance, as though it meant disaster. Each seemed to fear lest + it should bring on the other some grief more serious than those they felt + tempted to share. Was it shyness or friendship that checked them? Was it a + dread of meeting with selfishness, or the odious distrust which sunders + all the residents within the walls of a populous city? Did the voice of + conscience warn them of approaching danger? It would be impossible to + explain the instinct which made them as much enemies as friends, at once + indifferent and attached, drawn to each other by impulse, and severed by + circumstance. Each perhaps hoped to preserve a cherished illusion. It + might almost have been thought that the stranger feared lest he should + hear some vulgar word from those lips as fresh and pure as a flower, and + that Caroline felt herself unworthy of the mysterious personage who was + evidently possessed of power and wealth. + </p> + <p> + As to Madame Crochard, that tender mother, almost angry at her daughter’s + persistent lack of decisiveness, now showed a sulky face to the “Black + Gentleman,” on whom she had hitherto smiled with a sort of benevolent + servility. Never before had she complained so bitterly of being compelled, + at her age, to do the cooking; never had her catarrh and her rheumatism + wrung so many groans from her; finally, she could not, this winter, + promise so many ells of net as Caroline had hitherto been able to count + on. + </p> + <p> + Under these circumstances, and towards the end of December, at the time + when bread was dearest, and that dearth of corn was beginning to be felt + which made the year 1816 so hard on the poor, the stranger observed on the + features of the girl whose name was still unknown to him, the painful + traces of a secret sorrow which his kindest smiles could not dispel. + Before long he saw in Caroline’s eyes the dimness attributed to long hours + at night. One night, towards the end of the month, the Gentleman in Black + passed down the Rue du Tourniquet at the quite unwonted hour of one in the + morning. The perfect silence allowed of his hearing before passing the + house the lachrymose voice of the old mother, and Caroline’s even sadder + tones, mingling with the swish of a shower of sleet. He crept along as + slowly as he could; and then, at the risk of being taken up by the police, + he stood still below the window to hear the mother and daughter, while + watching them through the largest of the holes in the yellow muslin + curtains, which were eaten away by wear as a cabbage leaf is riddled by + caterpillars. The inquisitive stranger saw a sheet of paper on the table + that stood between the two work-frames, and on which stood the lamp and + the globes filled with water. He at once identified it as a writ. Madame + Crochard was weeping, and Caroline’s voice was thick, and had lost its + sweet, caressing tone. + </p> + <p> + “Why be so heartbroken, mother? Monsieur Molineux will not sell us up or + turn us out before I have finished this dress; only two nights more and I + shall take it home to Madame Roguin.” + </p> + <p> + “And supposing she keeps you waiting as usual?—And will the money + for the gown pay the baker too?” + </p> + <p> + The spectator of this scene had long practice in reading faces; he fancied + he could discern that the mother’s grief was as false as the daughter’s + was genuine; he turned away, and presently came back. When he next peeped + through the hole in the curtain, Madame Crochard was in bed. The young + needlewoman, bending over her frame, was embroidering with indefatigable + diligence; on the table, with the writ lay a triangular hunch of bread, + placed there, no doubt, to sustain her in the night and to remind her of + the reward of her industry. The stranger was tremulous with pity and + sympathy; he threw his purse in through a cracked pane so that it should + fall at the girl’s feet; and then, without waiting to enjoy her surprise, + he escaped, his cheeks tingling. + </p> + <p> + Next morning the shy and melancholy stranger went past with a look of deep + preoccupation, but he could not escape Caroline’s gratitude; she had + opened her window and affected to be digging in the square window-box + buried in snow, a pretext of which the clumsy ingenuity plainly told her + benefactor that she had been resolved not to see him only through the + pane. Her eyes were full of tears as she bowed her head, as much as to say + to her benefactor, “I can only repay you from my heart.” + </p> + <p> + But the Gentleman in Black affected not to understand the meaning of this + sincere gratitude. In the evening, as he came by, Caroline was busy + mending the window with a sheet of paper, and she smiled at him, showing + her row of pearly teeth like a promise. Thenceforth the Stranger went + another way, and was no more seen in the Rue due Tourniquet. + </p> + <p> + It was one day early in the following May that, as Caroline was giving the + roots of the honeysuckle a glass of water, one Saturday morning, she + caught sight of a narrow strip of cloudless blue between the black lines + of houses, and said to her mother: + </p> + <p> + “Mamma, we must go to-morrow for a trip to Montmorency!” + </p> + <p> + She had scarcely uttered the words, in a tone of glee, when the Gentleman + in Black came by, sadder and more dejected than ever. Caroline’s innocent + and ingratiating glance might have been taken for an invitation. And, in + fact, on the following day, when Madame Crochard, dressed in a pelisse of + claret-colored merinos, a silk bonnet, and striped shawl of an imitation + Indian pattern, came out to choose seats in a chaise at the corner of the + Rue du Faubourg Saint-Denis and the Rue d’Enghien, there she found her + Unknown standing like a man waiting for his wife. A smile of pleasure + lighted up the Stranger’s face when his eye fell on Caroline, her neat + feet shod in plum-colored prunella gaiters, and her white dress tossed by + a breeze that would have been fatal to an ill-made woman, but which + displayed her graceful form. Her face, shaded by a rice-straw bonnet lined + with pink silk, seemed to beam with a reflection from heaven; her broad, + plum-colored belt set off a waist he could have spanned; her hair, parted + in two brown bands over a forehead as white as snow, gave her an + expression of innocence which no other feature contradicted. Enjoyment + seemed to have made Caroline as light as the straw of her hat; but when + she saw the Gentleman in Black, radiant hope suddenly eclipsed her bright + dress and her beauty. The Stranger, who appeared to be in doubt, had not + perhaps made up his mind to be the girl’s escort for the day till this + revelation of the delight she felt on seeing him. He at once hired a + vehicle with a fairly good horse, to drive to Saint-Leu-Taverny, and he + offered Madame Crochard and her daughter seats by his side. The mother + accepted without ado; but presently, when they were already on the way to + Saint-Denis, she was by way of having scruples, and made a few civil + speeches as to the possible inconvenience two women might cause their + companion. + </p> + <p> + “Perhaps, monsieur, you wished to drive alone to Saint-Leu-Taverny,” said + she, with affected simplicity. + </p> + <p> + Before long she complained of the heat, and especially of her cough, + which, she said, had hindered her from closing her eyes all night; and by + the time the carriage had reached Saint-Denis, Madame Crochard seemed to + be fast asleep. Her snores, indeed, seemed, to the Gentleman in Black, + rather doubtfully genuine, and he frowned as he looked at the old woman + with a very suspicious eye. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, she is fast asleep,” said Caroline quilelessly; “she never ceased + coughing all night. She must be very tired.” + </p> + <p> + Her companion made no reply, but he looked at the girl with a smile that + seemed to say: + </p> + <p> + “Poor child, you little know your mother!” + </p> + <p> + However, in spite of his distrust, as the chaise made its way down the + long avenue of poplars leading to Eaubonne, the Stranger thought that + Madame Crochard was really asleep; perhaps he did not care to inquire how + far her slumbers were genuine or feigned. Whether it were that the + brilliant sky, the pure country air, and the heady fragrance of the first + green shoots of the poplars, the catkins of willow, and the flowers of the + blackthorn had inclined his heart to open like all the nature around him; + or that any long restraint was too oppressive while Caroline’s sparkling + eyes responded to his own, the Gentleman in Black entered on a + conversation with his young companion, as aimless as the swaying of the + branches in the wind, as devious as the flitting of the butterflies in the + azure air, as illogical as the melodious murmur of the fields, and, like + it, full of mysterious love. At that season is not the rural country as + tremulous as a bride that has donned her marriage robe; does it not invite + the coldest soul to be happy? What heart could remain unthawed, and what + lips could keep its secret, on leaving the gloomy streets of the Marais + for the first time since the previous autumn, and entering the smiling and + picturesque valley of Montmorency; on seeing it in the morning light, its + endless horizons receding from view; and then lifting a charmed gaze to + eyes which expressed no less infinitude mingled with love? + </p> + <p> + The Stranger discovered that Caroline was sprightly rather than witty, + affectionate, but ill educated; but while her laugh was giddy, her words + promised genuine feeling. When, in response to her companion’s shrewd + questioning, the girl spoke with the heartfelt effusiveness of which the + lower classes are lavish, not guarding it with reticence like people of + the world, the Black Gentleman’s face brightened, and seemed to renew its + youth. His countenance by degrees lost the sadness that lent sternness to + his features, and little by little they gained a look of handsome + youthfulness which made Caroline proud and happy. The pretty needlewoman + guessed that her new friend had been long weaned from tenderness and love, + and no longer believed in the devotion of woman. Finally, some unexpected + sally in Caroline’s light prattle lifted the last veil that concealed the + real youth and genuine character of the Stranger’s physiognomy; he seemed + to bid farewell to the ideas that haunted him, and showed the natural + liveliness that lay beneath the solemnity of his expression. + </p> + <p> + Their conversation had insensibly become so intimate, that by the time + when the carriage stopped at the first houses of the straggling village of + Saint-Leu, Caroline was calling the gentleman Monsieur Roger. Then for the + first time the old mother awoke. + </p> + <p> + “Caroline, she has heard everything!” said Roger suspiciously in the + girl’s ear. + </p> + <p> + Caroline’s reply was an exquisite smile of disbelief, which dissipated the + dark cloud that his fear of some plot on the old woman’s part had brought + to this suspicious mortal’s brow. Madame Crochard was amazed at nothing, + approved of everything, followed her daughter and Monsieur Roger into the + park, where the two young people had agreed to wander through the smiling + meadows and fragrant copses made famous by the taste of Queen Hortense. + </p> + <p> + “Good heavens! how lovely!” exclaimed Caroline when standing on the green + ridge where the forest of Montmorency begins, she saw lying at her feet + the wide valley with its combes sheltering scattered villages, its horizon + of blue hills, its church towers, its meadows and fields, whence a murmur + came up, to die on her ear like the swell of the ocean. The three + wanderers made their way by the bank of an artificial stream and came to + the Swiss valley, where stands a chalet that had more than once given + shelter to Hortense and Napoleon. When Caroline had seated herself with + pious reverence on the mossy wooden bench where kings and princesses and + the Emperor had rested, Madame Crochard expressed a wish to have a nearer + view of a bridge that hung across between two rocks at some little + distance, and bent her steps towards that rural curiosity, leaving her + daughter in Monsieur Roger’s care, though telling them that she would not + go out of sight. + </p> + <p> + “What, poor child!” cried Roger, “have you never longed for wealth and the + pleasures of luxury? Have you never wished that you might wear the + beautiful dresses you embroider?” + </p> + <p> + “It would not be the truth, Monsieur Roger, if I were to tell you that I + never think how happy people must be who are rich. Oh yes! I often fancy, + especially when I am going to sleep, how glad I should be to see my poor + mother no longer compelled to go out, whatever the weather, to buy our + little provisions, at her age. I should like her to have a servant who, + every morning before she was up, would bring her up her coffee, nicely + sweetened with white sugar. And she loves reading novels, poor dear soul! + Well, and I would rather see her wearing out her eyes over her favorite + books than over twisting her bobbins from morning till night. And again, + she ought to have a little good wine. In short, I should like to see her + comfortable—she is so good.” + </p> + <p> + “Then she has shown you great kindness?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh yes,” said the girl, in a tone of conviction. Then, after a short + pause, during which the two young people stood watching Madame Crochard, + who had got to the middle of the rustic bridge, and was shaking her finger + at them, Caroline went on: + </p> + <p> + “Oh yes, she has been so good to me. What care she took of me when I was + little! She sold her last silver forks to apprentice me to the old maid + who taught me to embroider.—And my poor father! What did she not go + through to make him end his days in happiness!” The girl shivered at the + remembrance, and hid her face in her hands.—“Well! come! let us + forget past sorrows!” she added, trying to rally her high spirits. She + blushed as she saw that Roger too was moved, but she dared not look at + him. + </p> + <p> + “What was your father?” he asked. + </p> + <p> + “He was an opera-dancer before the Revolution,” said she, with an air of + perfect simplicity, “and my mother sang in the chorus. My father, who was + leader of the figures on the stage, happened to be present at the siege of + the Bastille. He was recognized by some of the assailants, who asked him + whether he could not lead a real attack, since he was used to leading such + enterprises on the boards. My father was brave; he accepted the post, led + the insurgents, and was rewarded by the nomination to the rank of captain + in the army of Sambre-et-Meuse, where he distinguished himself so far as + to rise rapidly to be a colonel. But at Lutzen he was so badly wounded + that, after a year’s sufferings, he died in Paris.—The Bourbons + returned; my mother could obtain no pension, and we fell into such abject + misery that we were compelled to work for our living. For some time past + she has been ailing, poor dear, and I have never known her so little + resigned; she complains a good deal, and, indeed, I cannot wonder, for she + has known the pleasures of an easy life. For my part, I cannot pine for + delights I have never known, I have but one thing to wish for.” + </p> + <p> + “And that is?” said Roger eagerly, as if roused from a dream. + </p> + <p> + “That women may continue to wear embroidered net dresses, so that I may + never lack work.” + </p> + <p> + The frankness of this confession interested the young man, who looked with + less hostile eyes on Madame Crochard as she slowly made her way back to + them. + </p> + <p> + “Well, children, have you had a long talk?” said she, with a + half-laughing, half-indulgent air. “When I think, Monsieur Roger, that the + ‘little Corporal’ has sat where you are sitting,” she went on after a + pause. “Poor man! how my husband worshiped him! Ah! Crochard did well to + die, for he could not have borne to think of him where <i>they</i> have + sent him!” + </p> + <p> + Roger put his finger to his lips, and the good woman went on very gravely, + with a shake of her head: + </p> + <p> + “All right, mouth shut and tongue still! But,” added she, unhooking a bit + of her bodice, and showing a ribbon and cross tied round her neck by a + piece of black ribbon, “they shall never hinder me from wearing what <i>he</i> + gave to my poor Crochard, and I will have it buried with me.” + </p> + <p> + On hearing this speech, which at that time was regarded as seditious, + Roger interrupted the old lady by rising suddenly, and they returned to + the village through the park walks. The young man left them for a few + minutes while he went to order a meal at the best eating-house in Taverny; + then, returning to fetch them, he led the way through the alleys cut in + the forest. + </p> + <p> + The dinner was cheerful. Roger was no longer the melancholy shade that was + wont to pass along the Rue du Tourniquet; he was not the “Black + Gentleman,” but rather a confiding young man ready to take life as it + came, like the two hard-working women who, on the morrow, might lack + bread; he seemed alive to all the joys of youth, his smile was quite + affectionate and childlike. + </p> + <p> + When, at five o’clock, this happy meal was ended with a few glasses of + champagne, Roger was the first to propose that they should join the + village ball under the chestnuts, where he and Caroline danced together. + Their hands met with sympathetic pressure, their hearts beat with the same + hopes; and under the blue sky and the slanting, rosy beams of sunset, + their eyes sparkled with fires which, to them, made the glory of the + heavens pale. How strange is the power of an idea, of a desire! To these + two nothing seemed impossible. In such magic moments, when enjoyment sheds + its reflections on the future, the soul foresees nothing but happiness. + This sweet day had created memories for these two to which nothing could + be compared in all their past existence. Would the source prove to be more + beautiful than the river, the desire more enchanting than its + gratification, the thing hoped for more delightful than the thing + possessed? + </p> + <p> + “So the day is already at an end!” On hearing this exclamation from her + unknown friend when the dance was over, Caroline looked at him + compassionately, as his face assumed once more a faint shade of sadness. + </p> + <p> + “Why should you not be as happy in Paris as you are here?” she asked. “Is + happiness to be found only at Saint-Leu? It seems to me that I can + henceforth never be unhappy anywhere.” + </p> + <p> + Roger was struck by these words, spoken with the glad unrestraint that + always carries a woman further than she intended, just as prudery often + lends her greater cruelty than she feels. For the first time since that + glance, which had, in a way, been the beginning of their friendship, + Caroline and Roger had the same idea; though they did not express it, they + felt it at the same instant, as a result of a common impression like that + of a comforting fire cheering both under the frost of winter; then, as if + frightened by each other’s silence, they made their way to the spot where + the carriage was waiting. But before getting into it, they playfully took + hands and ran together down the dark avenue in front of Madame Crochard. + When they could no longer see the white net cap, which showed as a speck + through the leaves where the old woman was—“Caroline!” said Roger in + a tremulous voice, and with a beating heart. + </p> + <p> + The girl was startled, and drew back a few steps, understanding the + invitation this question conveyed; however, she held out her hand, which + was passionately kissed, but which she hastily withdrew, for by standing + on tiptoe she could see her mother. + </p> + <p> + Madame Crochard affected blindness, as if, with a reminiscence of her old + parts, she was only required to figure as a supernumerary. + </p> + <p> + The adventures of these two young people were not continued in the Rue du + Tourniquet. To see Roger and Caroline once more, we must leap into the + heart of modern Paris, where, in some of the newly-built houses, there are + apartments that seem made on purpose for newly-married couples to spend + their honeymoon in. There the paper and paint are as fresh as the bride + and bridegroom, and the decorations are in blossom like their love; + everything is in harmony with youthful notions and ardent wishes. + </p> + <p> + Half-way down the Rue Taitbout, in a house whose stone walls were still + white, where the columns of the hall and the doorway were as yet spotless, + and the inner walls shone with the neat painting which our recent intimacy + with English ways had brought into fashion, there was, on the second + floor, a small set of rooms fitted by the architect as though he had known + what their use would be. A simple airy ante-room, with a stucco dado, + formed an entrance into a drawing-room and dining-room. Out of the + drawing-room opened a pretty bedroom, with a bathroom beyond. Every + chimney-shelf had over it a fine mirror elegantly framed. The doors were + crowded with arabesques in good taste, and the cornices were in the best + style. Any amateur would have discerned there the sense of distinction and + decorative fitness which mark the work of modern French architects. + </p> + <p> + For above a month Caroline had been at home in this apartment, furnished + by an upholsterer who submitted to an artist’s guidance. A short + description of the principal room will suffice to give us an idea of the + wonders it offered to Caroline’s delighted eyes when Roger installed her + there. Hangings of gray stuff trimmed with green silk adorned the walls of + her bedroom; the seats, covered with light-colored woolen sateen, were of + easy and comfortable shapes, and in the latest fashion; a chest of drawers + of some simple wood, inlaid with lines of a darker hue, contained the + treasures of the toilet; a writing-table to match served for inditing + love-letters on scented paper; the bed, with antique draperies, could not + fail to suggest thoughts of love by its soft hangings of elegant muslin; + the window-curtains, of drab silk with green fringe, were always half + drawn to subdue the light; a bronze clock represented Love crowning + Psyche; and a carpet of Gothic design on a red ground set off the other + accessories of this delightful retreat. There was a small dressing-table + in front of a long glass, and here the needlewoman sat, out of patience + with Plaisir, the famous hairdresser. + </p> + <p> + “Do you think you will have done to-day?” said she. + </p> + <p> + “Your hair is so long and so thick, madame,” replied Plaisir. + </p> + <p> + Caroline could not help smiling. The man’s flattery had no doubt revived + in her mind the memory of the passionate praises lavished by her lover on + the beauty of her hair, which he delighted in. + </p> + <p> + The hairdresser having done, a waiting-maid came and held counsel with her + as to the dress in which Roger would like best to see her. It was the + beginning of September 1816, and the weather was cold; she chose a green + <i>grenadine</i> trimmed with chinchilla. As soon as she was dressed, + Caroline flew into the drawing-room and opened a window, out of which she + stepped on to the elegant balcony, that adorned the front of the house; + there she stood, with her arms crossed, in a charming attitude, not to + show herself to the admiration of the passers-by and see them turn to gaze + at her, but to be able to look out on the Boulevard at the bottom of the + Rue Taitbout. This side view, really very comparable to the peephole made + by actors in the drop-scene of a theatre, enabled her to catch a glimpse + of numbers of elegant carriages, and a crowd of persons, swept past with + the rapidity of <i>Ombres Chinoises</i>. Not knowing whether Roger would + arrive in a carriage or on foot, the needlewoman from the Rue du + Tourniquet looked by turns at the foot-passengers, and at the tilburies—light + cabs introduced into Paris by the English. + </p> + <p> + Expressions of refractoriness and of love passed by turns over her + youthful face when, after waiting for a quarter of an hour, neither her + keen eye nor her heart had announced the arrival of him whom she knew to + be due. What disdain, what indifference were shown in her beautiful + features for all the other creatures who were bustling like ants below her + feet. Her gray eyes, sparkling with fun, now positively flamed. Given over + to her passion, she avoided admiration with as much care as the proudest + devote to encouraging it when they drive about Paris, certainly feeling no + care as to whether her fair countenance leaning over the balcony, or her + little foot between the bars, and the picture of her bright eyes and + delicious turned-up nose would be effaced or no from the minds of the + passers-by who admired them; she saw but one face, and had but one idea. + When the spotted head of a certain bay horse happened to cross the narrow + strip between the two rows of houses, Caroline gave a little shiver and + stood on tiptoe in hope of recognizing the white traces and the color of + the tilbury. It was he! + </p> + <p> + Roger turned the corner of the street, saw the balcony, whipped the horse, + which came up at a gallop, and stopped at the bronze-green door that he + knew as well as his master did. The door of the apartment was opened at + once by the maid, who had heard her mistress’ exclamation of delight. + Roger rushed up to the drawing-room, clasped Caroline in his arms, and + embraced her with the effusive feeling natural when two beings who love + each other rarely meet. He led her, or rather they went by a common + impulse, their arms about each other, into the quiet and fragrant bedroom; + a settee stood ready for them to sit by the fire, and for a moment they + looked at each other in silence, expressing their happiness only by their + clasped hands, and communicating their thoughts in a fond gaze. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, it is he!” she said at last. “Yes, it is you. Do you know, I have + not seen you for three long days, an age!—But what is the matter? + You are unhappy.” + </p> + <p> + “My poor Caroline—” + </p> + <p> + “There, you see! ‘poor Caroline’—” + </p> + <p> + “No, no, do not laugh, my darling; we cannot go to the Feydeau Theatre + together this evening.” + </p> + <p> + Caroline put on a little pout, but it vanished immediately. + </p> + <p> + “How absurd I am! How can I think of going to the play when I see you? Is + not the sight of you the only spectacle I care for?” she cried, pushing + her fingers through Roger’s hair. + </p> + <p> + “I am obliged to go to the Attorney-General’s. We have a knotty case in + hand. He met me in the great hall at the Palais; and as I am to plead, he + asked me to dine with him. But, my dearest, you can go to the theatre with + your mother, and I will join you if the meeting breaks up early.” + </p> + <p> + “To the theatre without you!” cried she in a tone of amazement; “enjoy any + pleasure you do not share! O my Roger! you do not deserve a kiss,” she + added, throwing her arms round his neck with an artless and impassioned + impulse. + </p> + <p> + “Caroline, I must go home and dress. The Marais is some way off, and I + still have some business to finish.” + </p> + <p> + “Take care what you are saying, monsieur,” said she, interrupting him. “My + mother says that when a man begins to talk about his business, he is + ceasing to love.” + </p> + <p> + “Caroline! Am I not here? Have I not stolen this hour from my pitiless—” + </p> + <p> + “Hush!” said she, laying a finger on his mouth. “Don’t you see that I am + in jest.” + </p> + <p> + They had now come back to the drawing-room, and Roger’s eye fell on an + object brought home that morning by the cabinetmaker. Caroline’s old + rosewood embroidery-frame, by which she and her mother had earned their + bread when they lived in the Rue du Tourniquet-Saint-Jean, had been + refitted and polished, and a net dress, of elaborate design, was already + stretched upon it. + </p> + <p> + “Well, then, my dear, I shall do some work this evening. As I stitch, I + shall fancy myself gone back to those early days when you used to pass by + me without a word, but not without a glance; the days when the remembrance + of your look kept me awake all night. Oh my dear old frame—the best + piece of furniture in my room, though you did not give it me!—You + cannot think,” said she, seating herself on Roger’s knees; for he, + overcome by irresistible feelings, had dropped into a chair. “Listen.—All + I can earn by my work I mean to give to the poor. You have made me rich. + How I love that pretty home at Bellefeuille, less because of what it is + than because you gave it me! But tell me, Roger, I should like to call + myself Caroline de Bellefeuille—can I? You must know: is it legal or + permissible?” + </p> + <p> + As she saw a little affirmative grimace—for Roger hated the name of + Crochard—Caroline jumped for glee, and clapped her hands. + </p> + <p> + “I feel,” said she, “as if I should more especially belong to you. Usually + a woman gives up her own name and takes her husband’s—” An idea + forced itself upon her and made her blush. She took Roger’s hand and led + him to the open piano.—“Listen,” said she, “I can play my sonata now + like an angel!” and her fingers were already running over the ivory keys, + when she felt herself seized round the waist. + </p> + <p> + “Caroline, I ought to be far from hence!” + </p> + <p> + “You insist on going? Well, go,” said she, with a pretty pout, but she + smiled as she looked at the clock and exclaimed joyfully, “At any rate, I + have detained you a quarter of an hour!” + </p> + <p> + “Good-bye, Mademoiselle de Bellefeuille,” said he, with the gentle irony + of love. + </p> + <p> + She kissed him and saw her lover to the door; when the sound of his steps + had died away on the stairs she ran out on to the balcony to see him get + into the tilbury, to see him gather up the reins, to catch a parting look, + hear the crack of his whip and the sound of his wheels on the stones, + watch the handsome horse, the master’s hat, the tiger’s gold lace, and at + last to stand gazing long after the dark corner of the street had eclipsed + this vision. + </p> + <p> + Five years after Mademoiselle Caroline de Bellefeuille had taken up her + abode in the pretty house in the Rue Taitbout, we again look in on one of + those home-scenes which tighten the bonds of affection between two persons + who truly love. In the middle of the blue drawing-room, in front of the + window opening to the balcony, a little boy of four was making a + tremendous noise as he whipped the rocking-horse, whose two curved + supports for the legs did not move fast enough to please him; his pretty + face, framed in fair curls that fell over his white collar, smiled up like + a cherub’s at his mother when she said to him from the depths of an + easy-chair, “Not so much noise, Charles; you will wake your little + sister.” + </p> + <p> + The inquisitive boy suddenly got off his horse, and treading on tiptoe as + if he were afraid of the sound of his feet on the carpet, came up with one + finger between his little teeth, and standing in one of those childish + attitudes that are so graceful because they are so perfectly natural, + raised the muslin veil that hid the rosy face of a little girl sleeping on + her mother’s knee. + </p> + <p> + “Is Eugenie asleep, then?” said he, quite astonished. “Why is she asleep + when we are awake?” he added, looking up with large, liquid black eyes. + </p> + <p> + “That only God can know,” replied Caroline, with a smile. + </p> + <p> + The mother and boy gazed at the infant, only that morning baptized. + </p> + <p> + Caroline, now about four-and-twenty, showed the ripe beauty which had + expanded under the influence of cloudless happiness and constant + enjoyment. In her the Woman was complete. + </p> + <p> + Delighted to obey her dear Roger’s every wish, she had acquired the + accomplishments she had lacked; she played the piano fairly well, and sang + sweetly. Ignorant of the customs of a world that would have treated her as + an outcast, and which she would not have cared for even if it had welcomed + her—for a happy woman does not care for the world—she had not + caught the elegance of manner or learned the art of conversation, + abounding in words and devoid of ideas, which is current in fashionable + drawing-rooms; on the other hand, she worked hard to gain the knowledge + indispensable to a mother whose chief ambition is to bring up her children + well. Never to lose sight of her boy, to give him from the cradle that + training of every minute which impresses on the young a love of all that + is good and beautiful, to shelter him from every evil influence and fulfil + both the painful duties of a nurse and the tender offices of a mother,—these + were her chief pleasures. + </p> + <p> + The coy and gentle being had from the first day so fully resigned herself + never to step beyond the enchanted sphere where she found all her + happiness, that, after six years of the tenderest intimacy, she still knew + her lover only by the name of Roger. A print of the picture of the Psyche + lighting her lamp to gaze on Love in spite of his prohibition, hung in her + room, and constantly reminded her of the conditions of her happiness. + Through all these six years her humble pleasures had never importuned + Roger by a single indiscreet ambition, and his heart was a treasure-house + of kindness. Never had she longed for diamonds or fine clothes, and had + again and again refused the luxury of a carriage which he had offered her. + To look out from her balcony for Roger’s cab, to go with him to the play + or make excursions with him, on fine days in the environs of Paris, to + long for him, to see him, and then to long again,—these made up the + history of her life, poor in incidents but rich in happiness. + </p> + <p> + As she rocked the infant, now a few months old, on her knee, singing the + while, she allowed herself to recall the memories of the past. She + lingered more especially on the months of September, when Roger was + accustomed to take her to Bellefeuille and spend the delightful days which + seem to combine the charms of every season. Nature is equally prodigal of + flowers and fruit, the evenings are mild, the mornings bright, and a blaze + of summer often returns after a spell of autumn gloom. During the early + days of their love, Caroline had ascribed the even mind and gentle temper, + of which Roger gave her so many proofs, to the rarity of their always + longed-for meetings, and to their mode of life, which did not compel them + to be constantly together, as a husband and wife must be. But now she + could remember with rapture that, tortured by foolish fears, she had + watched him with trembling during their first stay on this little estate + in the Gatinais. Vain suspiciousness of love! Each of these months of + happiness had passed like a dream in the midst of joys which never rang + false. She had always seen that kind creature with a tender smile on his + lips, a smile that seemed to mirror her own. + </p> + <p> + As she called up these vivid pictures, her eyes filled with tears; she + thought she could not love him enough, and was tempted to regard her + ambiguous position as a sort of tax levied by Fate on her love. Finally, + invincible curiosity led her to wonder for the thousandth time what events + they could be that led so tender a heart as Roger’s to find his pleasure + in clandestine and illicit happiness. She invented a thousand romances on + purpose really to avoid recognizing the true reason, which she had long + suspected but tried not to believe in. She rose, and carrying the baby in + her arms, went into the dining-room to superintend the preparations for + dinner. + </p> + <p> + It was the 6th of May 1822, the anniversary of the excursion to the Park + of Saint-Leu, which had been the turning-point of her life; each year it + had been marked by heartfelt rejoicing. Caroline chose the linen to be + used, and arranged the dessert. Having attended with joy to these details, + which touched Roger, she placed the infant in her pretty cot and went out + on to the balcony, whence she presently saw the carriage which her friend, + as he grew to riper years, now used instead of the smart tilbury of his + youth. After submitting to the first fire of Caroline’s embraces and the + kisses of the little rogue who addressed him as papa, Roger went to the + cradle, looked at his little sleeping daughter, kissed her forehead, and + then took out of his pocket a document covered with black writing. + </p> + <p> + “Caroline,” said he, “here is the marriage portion of Mademoiselle Eugenie + de Bellefeuille.” + </p> + <p> + The mother gratefully took the paper, a deed of gift of securities in the + State funds. + </p> + <p> + “Buy why,” said she, “have you given Eugenie three thousand francs a year, + and Charles no more than fifteen hundred?” + </p> + <p> + “Charles, my love, will be a man,” replied he. “Fifteen hundred francs are + enough for him. With so much for certain, a man of courage is above + poverty. And if by chance your son should turn out a nonentity, I do not + wish him to be able to play the fool. If he is ambitious, this small + income will give him a taste for work.—Eugenie is a girl; she must + have a little fortune.” + </p> + <p> + The father then turned to play with his boy, whose effusive affection + showed the independence and freedom in which he was brought up. No sort of + shyness between the father and child interfered with the charm which + rewards a parent for his devotion; and the cheerfulness of the little + family was as sweet as it was genuine. In the evening a magic-lantern + displayed its illusions and mysterious pictures on a white sheet to + Charles’ great surprise, and more than once the innocent child’s heavenly + rapture made Caroline and Roger laugh heartily. + </p> + <p> + Later, when the little boy was in bed, the baby woke and craved its limpid + nourishment. By the light of a lamp in the chimney corner, Roger enjoyed + the scene of peace and comfort, and gave himself up to the happiness of + contemplating the sweet picture of the child clinging to Caroline’s white + bosom as she sat, as fresh as a newly opened lily, while her hair fell in + long brown curls that almost hid her neck. The lamplight enhanced the + grace of the young mother, shedding over her, her dress, and the infant, + the picturesque effects of strong light and shadow. + </p> + <p> + The calm and silent woman’s face struck Roger as a thousand times sweeter + than ever, and he gazed tenderly at the rosy, pouting lips from which no + harsh word had ever been heard. The very same thought was legible in + Caroline’s eyes as she gave a sidelong look at Roger, either to enjoy the + effect she was producing on him, or to see what the end of the evening was + to be. He, understanding the meaning of this cunning glance, said with + assumed regret, “I must be going. I have a serious case to be finished, + and I am expected at home. Duty before all things—don’t you think + so, my darling?” + </p> + <p> + Caroline looked him in the face with an expression at once sad and sweet, + with the resignation which does not, however, disguise the pangs of a + sacrifice. + </p> + <p> + “Good-bye, then,” said she. “Go, for if you stay an hour longer I cannot + so lightly bear to set you free.” + </p> + <p> + “My dearest,” said he with a smile, “I have three days’ holiday, and am + supposed to be twenty leagues away from Paris.” + </p> + <p> + A few days after this anniversary of the 6th of May, Mademoiselle de + Bellefeuille hurried off one morning to the Rue Saint-Louis, in the + Marais, only hoping she might not arrive too late at a house where she + commonly went once a week. An express messenger had just come to inform + her that her mother, Madame Crochard, was sinking under a complication of + disorders produced by constant catarrh and rheumatism. + </p> + <p> + While the hackney coach-driver was flogging up his horses at Caroline’s + urgent request, supported by the promise of a handsome present, the timid + old women, who had been Madame Crochard’s friends during her later years, + had brought a priest into the neat and comfortable second-floor rooms + occupied by the old widow. Madame Crochard’s maid did not know that the + pretty lady at whose house her mistress so often dined was her daughter, + and she was one of the first to suggest the services of a confessor, in + the hope that this priest might be at least as useful to herself as to the + sick woman. Between two games of boston, or out walking in the Jardin + Turc, the old beldames with whom the widow gossiped all day had succeeded + in rousing in their friend’s stony heart some scruples as to her former + life, some visions of the future, some fears of hell, and some hopes of + forgiveness if she should return in sincerity to a religious life. So on + this solemn morning three ancient females had settled themselves in the + drawing-room where Madame Crochard was “at home” every Tuesday. Each in + turn left her armchair to go to the poor old woman’s bedside and sit with + her, giving her the false hopes with which people delude the dying. + </p> + <p> + At the same time, when the end was drawing near, when the physician called + in the day before would no longer answer for her life, the three dames + took counsel together as to whether it would not be well to send word to + Mademoiselle de Bellefeuille. Francoise having been duly informed, it was + decided that a commissionaire should go to the Rue Taitbout to inform the + young relation whose influence was so disquieting to the four women; + still, they hoped that the Auvergnat would be too late in bringing back + the person who so certainly held the first place in the widow Crochard’s + affections. The widow, evidently in the enjoyment of a thousand crowns a + year, would not have been so fondly cherished by this feminine trio, but + that neither of them, nor Francoise herself knew of her having any heir. + The wealth enjoyed by Mademoiselle de Bellefeuille, whom Madame Crochard, + in obedience to the traditions of the older opera, never allowed herself + to speak of by the affectionate name of daughter, almost justified the + four women in their scheme of dividing among themselves the old woman’s + “pickings.” + </p> + <p> + Presently the one of these three sibyls who kept guard over the sick woman + came shaking her head at the other anxious two, and said: + </p> + <p> + “It is time we should be sending for the Abbe Fontanon. In another two + hours she will neither have the wit nor the strength to write a line.” + </p> + <p> + Thereupon the toothless old cook went off, and returned with a man wearing + a black gown. A low forehead showed a small mind in this priest, whose + features were mean; his flabby, fat cheeks and double chin betrayed the + easy-going egotist; his powdered hair gave him a pleasant look, till he + raised his small, brown eyes, prominent under a flat forehead, and not + unworthy to glitter under the brows of a Tartar. + </p> + <p> + “Monsieur l’Abbe,” said Francoise, “I thank you for all your advice; but + believe me, I have taken the greatest care of the dear soul.” + </p> + <p> + But the servant, with her dragging step and woe-begone look, was silent + when she saw that the door of the apartment was open, and that the most + insinuating of the three dowagers was standing on the landing to be the + first to speak with the confessor. When the priest had politely faced the + honeyed and bigoted broadside of words fired off from the widow’s three + friends, he went into the sickroom to sit by Madame Crochard. Decency, and + some sense of reserve, compelled the three women and old Francoise to + remain in the sitting-room, and to make such grimaces of grief as are + possible in perfection only to such wrinkled faces. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, is it not ill-luck!” cried Francoise, heaving a sigh. “This is the + fourth mistress I have buried. The first left me a hundred francs a year, + the second a sum of fifty crowns, and the third a thousand crowns down. + After thirty years’ service, that is all I have to call my own.” + </p> + <p> + The woman took advantage of her freedom to come and go, to slip into a + cupboard, whence she could hear the priest. + </p> + <p> + “I see with pleasure, daughter,” said Fontanon, “that you have pious + sentiments; you have a sacred relic round your neck.” + </p> + <p> + Madame Crochard, with a feeble vagueness which seemed to show that she had + not all her wits about her, pulled out the Imperial Cross of the Legion of + Honor. The priest started back at seeing the Emperor’s head; he went up to + the penitent again, and she spoke to him, but in such a low tone that for + some minutes Francoise could hear nothing. + </p> + <p> + “Woe upon me!” cried the old woman suddenly. “Do not desert me. What, + Monsieur l’Abbe, do you think I shall be called to account for my + daughter’s soul?” + </p> + <p> + The Abbe spoke too low, and the partition was too thick for Francoise to + hear the reply. + </p> + <p> + “Alas!” sobbed the woman, “the wretch has left me nothing that I can + bequeath. When he robbed me of my dear Caroline, he parted us, and only + allowed me three thousand francs a year, of which the capital belongs to + my daughter.” + </p> + <p> + “Madame has a daughter, and nothing to live on but an annuity,” shrieked + Francoise, bursting into the drawing-room. + </p> + <p> + The three old crones looked at each other in dismay. One of them, whose + nose and chin nearly met with an expression that betrayed a superior type + of hypocrisy and cunning, winked her eyes; and as soon as Francoise’s back + was turned, she gave her friends a nod, as much as to say, “That slut is + too knowing by half; her name has figured in three wills already.” + </p> + <p> + So the three old dames sat on. + </p> + <p> + However, the Abbe presently came out, and at a word from him the witches + scuttered down the stairs at his heels, leaving Francoise alone with her + mistress. Madame Crochard, whose sufferings increased in severity, rang, + but in vain, for this woman, who only called out, “Coming, coming—in + a minute!” The doors of cupboards and wardrobes were slamming as though + Francoise were hunting high and low for a lost lottery ticket. + </p> + <p> + Just as this crisis was at a climax, Mademoiselle de Bellefeuille came to + stand by her mother’s bed, lavishing tender words on her. + </p> + <p> + “Oh my dear mother, how criminal I have been! You are ill, and I did not + know it; my heart did not warn me. However, here I am—” + </p> + <p> + “Caroline—” + </p> + <p> + “What is it?” + </p> + <p> + “They fetched a priest—” + </p> + <p> + “But send for a doctor, bless me!” cried Mademoiselle de Bellefeuille. + “Francoise, a doctor! How is it that these ladies never sent for a + doctor?” + </p> + <p> + “They sent for a priest——” repeated the old woman with a gasp. + </p> + <p> + “She is so ill—and no soothing draught, nothing on her table!” + </p> + <p> + The mother made a vague sign, which Caroline’s watchful eye understood, + for she was silent to let her mother speak. + </p> + <p> + “They brought a priest—to hear my confession, as they said.—Beware, + Caroline!” cried the old woman with an effort, “the priest made me tell + him your benefactor’s name.” + </p> + <p> + “But who can have told you, poor mother?” + </p> + <p> + The old woman died, trying to look knowingly cunning. If Mademoiselle de + Bellefeuille had noted her mother’s face she might have seen what no one + ever will see—Death laughing. + </p> + <p> + To enter into the interests that lay beneath this introduction to my tale, + we must for a moment forget the actors in it, and look back at certain + previous incidents, of which the last was closely concerned with the death + of Madame Crochard. The two parts will then form a whole—a story + which, by a law peculiar to life in Paris, was made up of two distinct + sets of actions. + </p> + <p> + Towards the close of the month of November 1805, a young barrister, aged + about six-and-twenty, was going down the stairs of the hotel where the + High Chancellor of the Empire resided, at about three o’clock one morning. + Having reached the courtyard in full evening dress, under a keen frost, he + could not help giving vent to an exclamation of dismay—qualified, + however, by the spirit which rarely deserts a Frenchman—at seeing no + hackney coach waiting outside the gates, and hearing no noises such as + arise from the wooden shoes or harsh voices of the hackney-coachmen of + Paris. The occasional pawing of the horses of the Chief Justice’s carriage—the + young man having left him still playing <i>bouillote</i> with Cambaceres—alone + rang out in the paved court, which was scarcely lighted by the carriage + lamps. Suddenly the young lawyer felt a friendly hand on his shoulder, and + turning round, found himself face to face with the Judge, to whom he + bowed. As the footman let down the steps of his carriage, the old + gentleman, who had served the Convention, suspected the junior’s dilemma. + </p> + <p> + “All cats are gray in the dark,” said he good-humoredly. “The Chief + Justice cannot compromise himself by putting a pleader in the right way! + Especially,” he went on, “when the pleader is the nephew of an old + colleague, one of the lights of the grand Council of State which gave + France the Napoleonic Code.” + </p> + <p> + At a gesture from the chief magistrate of France under the Empire, the + foot-passenger got into the carriage. + </p> + <p> + “Where do you live?” asked the great man, before the footman who awaited + his orders had closed the door. + </p> + <p> + “Quai des Augustins, monseigneur.” + </p> + <p> + The horses started, and the young man found himself alone with the + Minister, to whom he had vainly tried to speak before and after the + sumptuous dinner given by Cambaceres; in fact, the great man had evidently + avoided him throughout the evening. + </p> + <p> + “Well, Monsieur <i>de</i> Granville, you are on the high road!” + </p> + <p> + “So long as I sit by your Excellency’s side—” + </p> + <p> + “Nay, I am not jesting,” said the Minister. “You were called two years + since, and your defence in the case of Simeuse and Hauteserre had raised + you high in your profession.” + </p> + <p> + “I had supposed that my interest in those unfortunate emigres had done me + no good.” + </p> + <p> + “You are still very young,” said the great man gravely. “But the High + Chancellor,” he went on, after a pause, “was greatly pleased with you this + evening. Get a judgeship in the lower courts; we want men. The nephew of a + man in whom Cambaceres and I take great interest must not remain in the + background for lack of encouragement. Your uncle helped us to tide over a + very stormy season, and services of that kind are not forgotten.” The + Minister sat silent for a few minutes. “Before long,” he went on, “I shall + have three vacancies open in the Lower Courts and in the Imperial Court in + Paris. Come to see me, and take the place you prefer. Till then work hard, + but do not be seen at my receptions. In the first place, I am overwhelmed + with work; and besides that, your rivals may suspect your purpose and do + you harm with the patron. Cambaceres and I, by not speaking a word to you + this evening, have averted the accusation of favoritism.” + </p> + <p> + As the great man ceased speaking, the carriage drew up on the Quai des + Augustins; the young lawyer thanked his generous patron for the two lifts + he had conferred on him, and then knocked at his door pretty loudly, for + the bitter wind blew cold about his calves. At last the old lodgekeeper + pulled up the latch; and as the young man passed his window, called out in + a hoarse voice, “Monsieur Granville, here is a letter for you.” + </p> + <p> + The young man took the letter, and in spite of the cold, tried to identify + the writing by the gleam of a dull lamp fast dying out. “From my father!” + he exclaimed, as he took his bedroom candle, which the porter at last had + lighted. And he ran up to his room to read the following epistle:— + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “Set off by the next mail; and if you can get here soon enough, + your fortune is made. Mademoiselle Angelique Bontems has lost her + sister; she is now an only child; and, as we know, she does not + hate you. Madame Bontems can now leave her about forty thousand + francs a year, besides whatever she may give her when she marries. + I have prepared the way. + + “Our friends will wonder to see a family of old nobility allying + itself to the Bontems; old Bontems was a red republican of the + deepest dye, owning large quantities of the nationalized land, + that he bought for a mere song. But he held nothing but convent + lands, and the monks will not come back; and then, as you have + already so far derogated as to become a lawyer, I cannot see why + we should shrink from a further concession to the prevalent ideas. + The girl will have three hundred thousand francs; I can give you a + hundred thousand; your mother’s property must be worth fifty + thousand crowns, more or less; so if you choose to take a + judgeship, my dear son, you are quite in a position to become a + senator as much as any other man. My brother-in-law the Councillor + of State will not indeed lend you a helping-hand; still, as he is + not married, his property will some day be yours, and if you are + not senator by your own efforts, you will get it through him. Then + you will be perched high enough to look on at events. Farewell. + Yours affectionately.” + </pre> + <p> + So young Granville went to bed full of schemes, each fairer than the last. + Under the powerful protection of the High Chancellor, the Chief Justice, + and his mother’s brother—one of the originators of the Code—he + was about to make a start in a coveted position before the highest court + of the Empire, and he already saw himself a member of the bench whence + Napoleon selected the chief functionaries of the realm. He could also + promise himself a fortune handsome enough to keep up his rank, for which + the slender income of five thousand francs from an estate left him by his + mother would be quite insufficient. + </p> + <p> + To crown his ambitious dreams with a vision of happiness, he called up the + guileless face of Mademoiselle Angelique Bontems, the companion of his + childhood. Until he came to boyhood his father and mother had made no + objection to his intimacy with their neighbor’s pretty little daughter; + but when, during his brief holiday visits to Bayeux, his parents, who + prided themselves on their good birth, saw what friends the young people + were, they forbade his ever thinking of her. Thus for ten years past + Granville had only had occasional glimpses of the girl, whom he still + sometimes thought of as “his little wife.” And in those brief moments when + they met free from the active watchfulness of their families, they had + scarcely exchanged a few vague civilities at the church door or in the + street. Their happiest days had been those when, brought together by one + of those country festivities known in Normandy as <i>Assemblees</i>, they + could steal a glance at each other from afar. + </p> + <p> + In the course of the last vacation Granville had twice seen Angelique, and + her downcast eyes and drooping attitude had led him to suppose that she + was crushed by some unknown tyranny. + </p> + <p> + He was off by seven next morning to the coach office in the Rue + Notre-Dame-des-Victoires, and was so lucky as to find a vacant seat in the + diligence then starting for Caen. + </p> + <p> + It was not without deep emotion that the young lawyer saw once more the + spires of the cathedral at Bayeux. As yet no hope of his life had been + cheated, and his heart swelled with the generous feelings that expand in + the youthful soul. + </p> + <p> + After the too lengthy feast of welcome prepared by his father, who awaited + him with some friends, the impatient youth was conducted to a house, long + familiar to him, standing in the Rue Teinture. His heart beat high when + his father—still known in the town of Bayeux as the Comte de + Granville—knocked loudly at a carriage gate off which the green + paint was dropping in scales. It was about four in the afternoon. A young + maid-servant, in a cotton cap, dropped a short curtsey to the two + gentlemen, and said that the ladies would soon be home from vespers. + </p> + <p> + The Count and his son were shown into a low room used as a drawing-room, + but more like a convent parlor. Polished panels of dark walnut made it + gloomy enough, and around it some old-fashioned chairs covered with + worsted work and stiff armchairs were symmetrically arranged. The stone + chimney-shelf had no ornament but a discolored mirror, and on each side of + it were the twisted branches of a pair of candle-brackets, such as were + made at the time of the Peace of Utrecht. Against a panel opposite, young + Granville saw an enormous crucifix of ebony and ivory surrounded by a + wreath of box that had been blessed. Though there were three windows to + the room, looking out on a country-town garden, laid out in formal square + beds edged with box, the room was so dark that it was difficult to + discern, on the wall opposite the windows, three pictures of sacred + subjects painted by a skilled hand, and purchased, no doubt, during the + Revolution by old Bontems, who, as governor of the district, had never + neglected his opportunities. From the carefully polished floor to the + green checked holland curtains everything shone with conventual + cleanliness. + </p> + <p> + The young man’s heart felt an involuntary chill in this silent retreat + where Angelique dwelt. The habit of frequenting the glittering Paris + drawing-rooms, and the constant whirl of society, had effaced from his + memory the dull and peaceful surroundings of a country life, and the + contrast was so startling as to give him a sort of internal shiver. To + have just left a party at the house of Cambaceres, where life was so + large, where minds could expand, where the splendor of the Imperial Court + was so vividly reflected, and to be dropped suddenly into a sphere of + squalidly narrow ideas—was it not like a leap from Italy into + Greenland?—“Living here is not life!” said he to himself, as he + looked round the Methodistical room. The old Count, seeing his son’s + dismay, went up to him, and taking his hand, led him to a window, where + there was still a gleam of daylight, and while the maid was lighting the + yellow tapers in the candle branches he tried to clear away the clouds + that the dreary place had brought to his brow. + </p> + <p> + “Listen, my boy,” said he. “Old Bontems’ widow is a frenzied bigot. ‘When + the devil is old—’ you know! I see that the place goes against the + grain. Well, this is the whole truth; the old woman is priest-ridden; they + have persuaded her that it was high time to make sure of heaven, and the + better to secure Saint Peter and his keys she pays before-hand. She goes + to Mass every day, attends every service, takes the communion every Sunday + God has made, and amuses herself by restoring chapels. She had given so + many ornaments, and albs, and chasubles, she has crowned the canopy with + so many feathers, that on the occasion of the last Corpus Christi + procession as great a crowd came together as to see a man hanged, just to + stare at the priests in their splendid dresses and all the vessels regilt. + This house too is a sort of Holy Land. It was I who hindered her from + giving those three pictures to the Church—a Domenichino, a + Correggio, and an Andrea del Sarto—worth a good deal of money.” + </p> + <p> + “But Angelique?” asked the young man. + </p> + <p> + “If you do not marry her, Angelique is done for,” said the Count. “Our + holy apostles counsel her to live a virgin martyr. I have had the utmost + difficulty in stirring up her little heart, since she has been the only + child, by talking to her of you; but, as you will easily understand, as + soon as she is married you will carry her off to Paris. There, + festivities, married life, the theatres, and the rush of Parisian society, + will soon make her forget confessionals, and fasting, and hair shirts, and + Masses, which are the exclusive nourishment of such creatures.” + </p> + <p> + “But the fifty thousand francs a year derived from Church property? Will + not all that return—” + </p> + <p> + “That is the point!” exclaimed the Count, with a cunning glance. “In + consideration of this marriage—for Madame Bontems’ vanity is not a + little flattered by the notion of grafting the Bontems on to the + genealogical tree of the Granvilles—the aforenamed mother agrees to + settle her fortune absolutely on the girl, reserving only a life-interest. + The priesthood, therefore, are set against the marriage; but I have had + the banns published, everything is ready, and in a week you will be out of + the clutches of the mother and her Abbes. You will have the prettiest girl + in Bayeux, a good little soul who will give you no trouble, because she + has sound principles. She has been mortified, as they say in their jargon, + by fasting and prayer—and,” he added in a low voice, “by her + mother.” + </p> + <p> + A modest tap at the door silenced the Count, who expected to see the two + ladies appear. A little page came in, evidently in a great hurry; but, + abashed by the presence of the two gentlemen, he beckoned to a + housekeeper, who followed him. Dressed in a blue cloth jacket with short + tails, and blue-and-white striped trousers, his hair cut short all round, + the boy’s expression was that of a chorister, so strongly was it stamped + with the compulsory propriety that marks every member of a bigoted + household. + </p> + <p> + “Mademoiselle Gatienne,” said he, “do you know where the books are for the + offices of the Virgin? The ladies of the Congregation of the Sacred Heart + are going in procession this evening round the church.” + </p> + <p> + Gatienne went in search of the books. + </p> + <p> + “Will they go on much longer, my little man?” asked the Count. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, half an hour at most.” + </p> + <p> + “Let us go to look on,” said the father to his son. “There will be some + pretty women there, and a visit to the Cathedral can do us no harm.” + </p> + <p> + The young lawyer followed him with a doubtful expression. + </p> + <p> + “What is the matter?” asked the Count. + </p> + <p> + “The matter, father, is that I am sure I am right.” + </p> + <p> + “But you have said nothing.” + </p> + <p> + “No; but I have been thinking that you have still ten thousand francs a + year left of your original fortune. You will leave them to me—as + long a time hence as possible, I hope. But if you are ready to give me a + hundred thousand francs to make a foolish match, you will surely allow me + to ask you for only fifty thousand to save me from such a misfortune, and + enjoy as a bachelor a fortune equal to what your Mademoiselle Bontems + would bring me.” + </p> + <p> + “Are you crazy?” + </p> + <p> + “No, father. These are the facts. The Chief Justice promised me yesterday + that I should have a seat on the Bench. Fifty thousand francs added to + what I have, and to the pay of my appointment, will give me an income of + twelve thousand francs a year. And I then shall most certainly have a + chance of marrying a fortune, better than this alliance, which will be + poor in happiness if rich in goods.” + </p> + <p> + “It is very clear,” said his father, “that you were not brought up under + the old <i>regime</i>. Does a man of our rank ever allow his wife to be in + his way?” + </p> + <p> + “But, my dear father, in these days marriage is—” + </p> + <p> + “Bless me!” cried the Count, interrupting his son, “then what my old <i>emigre</i> + friends tell me is true, I suppose. The Revolution has left us habits + devoid of pleasure, and has infected all the young men with vulgar + principles. You, like my Jacobin brother-in-law, will harangue me, I + suppose, on the Nation, Public Morals, and Disinterestedness!—Good + Heavens! But for the Emperor’s sisters, where should we be?” + </p> + <p> + The still hale old man, whom the peasants on the estate persisted in + calling the Signeur de Granville, ended his speech as they entered the + Cathedral porch. In spite of the sanctity of the place, and even as he + dipped his fingers in the holy water, he hummed an air from the opera of + <i>Rose et Colas</i>, and then led the way down the side aisles, stopping + by each pillar to survey the rows of heads, all in lines like ranks of + soldiers on parade. + </p> + <p> + The special service of the Sacred Heart was about to begin. The ladies + affiliated to that congregation were in front near the choir, so the Count + and his son made their way to that part of the nave, and stood leaning + against one of the columns where there was least light, whence they could + command a view of this mass of faces, looking like a meadow full of + flowers. Suddenly, close to young Granville, a voice, sweeter than it + seemed possible to ascribe to a human being, broke into song, like the + first nightingale when winter is past. Though it mingled with the voices + of a thousand other women and the notes of the organ, that voice stirred + his nerves as though they vibrated to the too full and too piercing sounds + of a harmonium. The Parisian turned round, and, seeing a young figure, + though, the head being bent, her face was entirely concealed by a large + white bonnet, concluded that the voice was hers. He fancied that he + recognized Angelique in spite of a brown merino pelisse that wrapped her, + and he nudged his father’s elbow. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, there she is,” said the Count, after looking where his son pointed, + and then, by an expressive glance, he directed his attention to the pale + face of an elderly woman who had already detected the strangers, though + her false eyes, deep set in dark circles, did not seem to have strayed + from the prayer-book she held. + </p> + <p> + Angelique raised her face, gazing at the altar as if to inhale the heavy + scent of the incense that came wafted in clouds over the two women. And + then, in the doubtful light that the tapers shed down the nave, with that + of a central lamp and of some lights round the pillars, the young man + beheld a face which shook his determination. A white watered-silk bonnet + closely framed features of perfect regularity, the oval being completed by + the satin ribbon tie that fastened it under her dimpled chin. Over her + forehead, very sweet though low, hair of a pale gold color parted in two + bands and fell over her cheeks, like the shadow of leaves on a flower. The + arches of her eyebrows were drawn with the accuracy we admire in the best + Chinese paintings. Her nose, almost aquiline in profile, was exceptionally + firmly cut, and her lips were like two rose lines lovingly traced with a + delicate brush. Her eyes, of a light blue, were expressive of innocence. + </p> + <p> + Though Granville discerned a sort of rigid reserve in this girlish face, + he could ascribe it to the devotion in which Angelique was rapt. The + solemn words of prayer, visible in the cold, came from between rows of + pearls, like a fragrant mist, as it were. The young man involuntarily bent + over her a little to breathe this diviner air. This movement attracted the + girl’s notice; her gaze, raised to the altar, was diverted to Granville, + whom she could see but dimly in the gloom; but she recognized him as the + companion of her youth, and a memory more vivid than prayer brought a + supernatural glow to her face; she blushed. The young lawyer was thrilled + with joy at seeing the hopes of another life overpowered by those of love, + and the glory of the sanctuary eclipsed by earthly reminiscences; but his + triumph was brief. Angelique dropped her veil, assumed a calm demeanor, + and went on singing without letting her voice betray the least emotion. + </p> + <p> + Granville was a prey to one single wish, and every thought of prudence + vanished. By the time the service was ended, his impatience was so great + that he could not leave the ladies to go home alone, but came at once to + make his bow to “his little wife.” They bashfully greeted each other in + the Cathedral porch in the presence of the congregation. Madame Bontems + was tremulous with pride as she took the Comte de Granville’s arm, though + he, forced to offer it in the presence of all the world was vexed enough + with his son for his ill-advised impatience. + </p> + <p> + For about a fortnight, between the official announcement of the intended + marriage of the Vicomte de Granville to Mademoiselle Bontems and the + solemn day of the wedding, he came assiduously to visit his lady-love in + the dismal drawing-room, to which he became accustomed. His long calls + were devoted to watching Angelique’s character; for his prudence, happily, + had made itself heard again in the day after their first meeting. He + always found her seated at a little table of some West Indian wood, and + engaged in marking the linen of her trousseau. Angelique never spoke first + on the subject of religion. If the young lawyer amused himself with + fingering the handsome rosary that she kept in a little green velvet bag, + if he laughed as he looked at a relic such as usually is attached to this + means of grace, Angelique would gently take the rosary out of his hands + and replace it in the bag without a word, putting it away at once. When, + now and then, Granville was so bold as to make mischievous remarks as to + certain religious practices, the pretty girl listened to him with the + obstinate smile of assurance. + </p> + <p> + “You must either believe nothing, or believe everything the Church + teaches,” she would say. “Would you wish to have a woman without a + religion as the mother of your children?—No.—What man may dare + judge as between disbelievers and God? And how can I then blame what the + Church allows?” + </p> + <p> + Angelique appeared to be animated by such fervent charity, the young man + saw her look at him with such perfect conviction, that he sometimes felt + tempted to embrace her religious views; her firm belief that she was in + the only right road aroused doubts in his mind, which she tried to turn to + account. + </p> + <p> + But then Granville committed the fatal blunder of mistaking the + enchantment of desire for that of love. Angelique was so happy in + reconciling the voice of her heart with that of duty, by giving way to a + liking that had grown up with her from childhood, that the deluded man + could not discern which of the two spoke the louder. Are not all young men + ready to trust the promise of a pretty face and to infer beauty of soul + from beauty of feature? An indefinable impulse leads them to believe that + moral perfection must co-exist with physical perfection. If Angelique had + not been at liberty to give vent to her sentiments, they would soon have + dried up in her heart like a plant watered with some deadly acid. How + should a lover be aware of bigotry so well hidden? + </p> + <p> + This was the course of young Granville’s feelings during that fortnight, + devoured by him like a book of which the end is absorbing. Angelique, + carefully watched by him, seemed the gentlest of creatures, and he even + caught himself feeling grateful to Madame Bontems, who, by implanting so + deeply the principles of religion, had in some degree inured her to meet + the troubles of life. + </p> + <p> + On the day named for signing the inevitable contract, Madame Bontems made + her son-in-law pledge himself solemnly to respect her daughter’s religious + practices, to allow her entire liberty of conscience, to permit her to go + to communion, to church, to confession as often as she pleased, and never + to control her choice of priestly advisers. At this critical moment + Angelique looked at her future husband with such pure and innocent eyes, + that Granville did not hesitate to give his word. A smile puckered the + lips of the Abbe Fontanon, a pale man, who directed the consciences of + this household. Mademoiselle Bontems, by a slight nod, seemed to promise + that she would never take an unfair advantage of this freedom. As to the + old Count, he gently whistled the tune of an old song, <i>Va-t-en-voir + s’ils viennent</i> (“Go and see if they are coming on!”) + </p> + <p> + A few days after the wedding festivities of which so much is thought in + the provinces, Granville and his wife went to Paris, whither the young man + was recalled by his appointment as public prosecutor to the Supreme Court + of the Seine circuit. + </p> + <p> + When the young couple set out to find a residence, Angelique used the + influence that the honeymoon gives to every wife in persuading her husband + to take a large apartment in the ground-floor of a house at the corner of + the Vieille Rue du Temple and the Rue Nueve Saint-Francois. Her chief + reason for this choice was that the house was close to the Rue d’Orleans, + where there was a church, and not far from a small chapel in the Rue + Saint-Louis. + </p> + <p> + “A good housewife provides for everything,” said her husband, laughing. + </p> + <p> + Angelique pointed out to him that this part of Paris, known as the Marais, + was within easy reach of the Palais de Justice, and that the lawyers they + knew lived in the neighborhood. A fairly large garden made the apartment + particularly advantageous to a young couple; the children—if Heaven + should send them any—could play in the open air; the courtyard was + spacious, and there were good stables. + </p> + <p> + The lawyer wished to live in the Chaussee d’Antin, where everything is + fresh and bright, where the fashions may be seen while still new, where a + well-dressed crowd throngs the Boulevards, and the distance is less to the + theatres or places of amusement; but he was obliged to give way to the + coaxing ways of a young wife, who asked this as his first favor; so, to + please her, he settled in the Marais. Granville’s duties required him to + work hard—all the more, because they were new to him—so he + devoted himself in the first place to furnishing his private study and + arranging his books. He was soon established in a room crammed with + papers, and left the decoration of the house to his wife. He was all the + better pleased to plunge Angelique into the bustle of buying furniture and + fittings, the source of so much pleasure and of so many associations to + most young women, because he was rather ashamed of depriving her of his + company more often than the usages of early married life require. As soon + as his work was fairly under way, he gladly allowed his wife to tempt him + out of his study to consider the effect of furniture or hangings, which he + had before only seen piecemeal or unfinished. + </p> + <p> + If the old adage is true that says a woman may be judged of from her front + door, her rooms must express her mind with even greater fidelity. Madame + de Granville had perhaps stamped the various things she had ordered with + the seal of her own character; the young lawyer was certainly startled by + the cold, arid solemnity that reigned in these rooms; he found nothing to + charm his taste; everything was discordant, nothing gratified the eye. The + rigid mannerism that prevailed in the sitting-room at Bayeux had invaded + his home; the broad panels were hollowed in circles, and decorated with + those arabesques of which the long, monotonous mouldings are in such bad + taste. Anxious to find excuses for his wife, the young husband began + again, looking first at the long and lofty ante-room through which the + apartment was entered. The color of the panels, as ordered by his wife, + was too heavy, and the very dark green velvet used to cover the benches + added to the gloom of this entrance—not, to be sure, an important + room, but giving a first impression—just as we measure a man’s + intelligence by his first address. An ante-room is a kind of preface which + announces what is to follow, but promises nothing. + </p> + <p> + The young husband wondered whether his wife could really have chosen the + lamp of an antique pattern, which hung in the centre of this bare hall, + the pavement of black and white marble, and the paper in imitation of + blocks of stone, with green moss on them in places. A handsome, but not + new, barometer hung on the middle of one of the walls, as if to accentuate + the void. At the sight of it all, he looked round at his wife; he saw her + so much pleased by the red braid binding to the cotton curtains, so + satisfied with the barometer and the strictly decent statue that + ornamented a large Gothic stove, that he had not the barbarous courage to + overthrow such deep convictions. Instead of blaming his wife, Granville + blamed himself, accusing himself of having failed in his duty of guiding + the first steps in Paris of a girl brought up at Bayeux. + </p> + <p> + From this specimen, what might not be expected of the other rooms? What + was to be looked for from a woman who took fright at the bare legs of a + Caryatid, and who would not look at a chandelier or a candle-stick if she + saw on it the nude outlines of an Egyptian bust? At this date the school + of David was at the height of its glory; all the art of France bore the + stamp of his correct design and his love of antique types, which indeed + gave his pictures the character of colored sculpture. But none of these + devices of Imperial luxury found civic rights under Madame de Granville’s + roof. The spacious, square drawing-room remained as it had been left from + the time of Louis XV., in white and tarnished gold, lavishly adorned by + the architect with checkered lattice-work and the hideous garlands due to + the uninventive designers of the time. Still, if harmony at least had + prevailed, if the furniture of modern mahogany had but assumed the twisted + forms of which Boucher’s corrupt taste first set the fashion, Angelique’s + room would only have suggested the fantastic contrast of a young couple in + the nineteenth century living as though they were in the eighteenth; but a + number of details were in ridiculous discord. The consoles, the clocks, + the candelabra, were decorated with the military trophies which the wars + of the Empire commended to the affections of the Parisians; and the Greek + helmets, the Roman crossed daggers, and the shields so dear to military + enthusiasm that they were introduced on furniture of the most peaceful + uses, had no fitness side by side with the delicate and profuse arabesques + that delighted Madame de Pompadour. + </p> + <p> + Bigotry tends to an indescribably tiresome kind of humility which does not + exclude pride. Whether from modesty or by choice, Madame de Granville + seemed to have a horror of light and cheerful colors; perhaps, too, she + imagined that brown and purple beseemed the dignity of a magistrate. How + could a girl accustomed to an austere life have admitted the luxurious + divans that may suggest evil thoughts, the elegant and tempting boudoirs + where naughtiness may be imagined? + </p> + <p> + The poor husband was in despair. From the tone in which he approved, only + seconding the praises she bestowed on herself, Angelique understood that + nothing really pleased him; and she expressed so much regret at her want + of success, that Granville, who was very much in love, regarded her + disappointment as a proof of her affection instead of resentment for an + offence to her self-conceit. After all, could he expect a girl just + snatched from the humdrum of country notions, with no experience of the + niceties and grace of Paris life, to know or do any better? Rather would + he believe that his wife’s choice had been overruled by the tradesmen than + allow himself to own the truth. If he had been less in love, he would have + understood that the dealers, always quick to discern their customers’ + ideas, had blessed Heaven for sending them a tasteless little bigot, who + would take their old-fashioned goods off their hands. So he comforted the + pretty provincial. + </p> + <p> + “Happiness, dear Angelique, does not depend on a more or less elegant + piece of furniture; it depends on the wife’s sweetness, gentleness, and + love.” + </p> + <p> + “Why, it is my duty to love you,” said Angelique mildly, “and I can have + no more delightful duty to carry out.” + </p> + <p> + Nature has implanted in the heart of woman so great a desire to please, so + deep a craving for love, that, even in a youthful bigot, the ideas of + salvation and a future existence must give way to the happiness of early + married life. And, in fact, from the month of April, when they were + married, till the beginning of winter, the husband and wife lived in + perfect union. Love and hard work have the grace of making a man tolerably + indifferent to external matters. Being obliged to spend half the day in + court fighting for the gravest interests of men’s lives or fortunes, + Granville was less alive than another might have been to certain facts in + his household. + </p> + <p> + If, on a Friday, he found none but Lenten fare, and by chance asked for a + dish of meat without getting it, his wife, forbidden by the Gospel to tell + a lie, could still, by such subterfuges as are permissible in the + interests of religion, cloak what was premeditated purpose under some + pretext of her own carelessness or the scarcity in the market. She would + often exculpate herself at the expense of the cook, and even go so far as + to scold him. At that time young lawyers did not, as they do now, keep the + fasts of the Church, the four rogation seasons, and the vigils of + festivals; so Granville was not at first aware of the regular recurrence + of these Lenten meals, which his wife took care should be made dainty by + the addition of teal, moor-hen, and fish-pies, that their amphibious meat + or high seasoning might cheat his palate. Thus the young man unconsciously + lived in strict orthodoxy, and worked out his salvation without knowing + it. + </p> + <p> + On week-days he did not know whether his wife went to Mass or no. On + Sundays, with very natural amiability, he accompanied her to church to + make up to her, as it were, for sometimes giving up vespers in favor of + his company; he could not at first fully enter into the strictness of his + wife’s religious views. The theatres being impossible in summer by reason + of the heat, Granville had not even the opportunity of the great success + of a piece to give rise to the serious question of play-going. And, in + short, at the early stage of a union to which a man has been led by a + young girl’s beauty, he can hardly be exacting as to his amusements. Youth + is greedy rather than dainty, and possession has a charm in itself. How + should he be keen to note coldness, dignity, and reserve in the woman to + whom he ascribes the excitement he himself feels, and lends the glow of + the fire that burns within him? He must have attained a certain conjugal + calm before he discovers that a bigot sits waiting for love with her arms + folded. + </p> + <p> + Granville, therefore, believed himself happy till a fatal event brought + its influence to bear on his married life. In the month of November 1808 + the Canon of Bayeux Cathedral who had been the keeper of Madame Bontems’ + conscience and her daughter’s, came to Paris, spurred by the ambition to + be at the head of a church in the capital—a position which he + regarded perhaps as the stepping-stone to a bishopric. On resuming his + former control of this wandering lamb, he was horrified to find her + already so much deteriorated by the air of Paris, and strove to reclaim + her to his chilly fold. Frightened by the exhortations of this priest, a + man of about eight-and-thirty, who brought with him, into the circle of + the enlightened and tolerant Paris clergy, the bitter provincial + catholicism and the inflexible bigotry which fetter timid souls with + endless exactions, Madame de Granville did penance and returned from her + Jansenist errors. + </p> + <p> + It would be tiresome to describe minutely all the circumstances which + insensibly brought disaster on this household; it will be enough to relate + the simple facts without giving them in strict order of time. + </p> + <p> + The first misunderstanding between the young couple was, however, a + serious one. + </p> + <p> + When Granville took his wife into society she never declined solemn + functions, such as dinners, concerts, or parties given by the Judges + superior to her husband in the legal profession; but for a long time she + constantly excused herself on the plea of a sick headache when they were + invited to a ball. One day Granville, out of patience with these assumed + indispositions, destroyed a note of invitation to a ball at the house of a + Councillor of State, and gave his wife only a verbal invitation. Then, on + the evening, her health being quite above suspicion, he took her to a + magnificent entertainment. + </p> + <p> + “My dear,” said he, on their return home, seeing her wear an offensive air + of depression, “your position as a wife, the rank you hold in society, and + the fortune you enjoy, impose on you certain duties of which no divine law + can relieve you. Are you not your husband’s pride? You are required to go + to balls when I go, and to appear in a becoming manner.” + </p> + <p> + “And what is there, my dear, so disastrous in my dress?” + </p> + <p> + “It is your manner, my dear. When a young man comes up to speak to you, + you look so serious that a spiteful person might believe you doubtful of + your own virtue. You seem to fear lest a smile should undo you. You really + look as if you were asking forgiveness of God for the sins that may be + committed around you. The world, my dearest, is not a convent.—But, + as you mentioned your dress, I may confess to you that it is no less a + duty to conform to the customs and fashions of Society.” + </p> + <p> + “Do you wish that I should display my shape like those indecent women who + wear gowns so low that impudent eyes can stare at their bare shoulders and + their—” + </p> + <p> + “There is a difference, my dear,” said her husband, interrupting her, + “between uncovering your whole bust and giving some grace to your dress. + You wear three rows of net frills that cover your throat up to your chin. + You look as if you had desired your dressmaker to destroy the graceful + line of your shoulders and bosom with as much care as a coquette would + devote to obtaining from hers a bodice that might emphasize her covered + form. Your bust is wrapped in so many folds that every one was laughing at + your affectation of prudery. You would be really grieved if I were to + repeat the ill-natured remarks made on your appearance.” + </p> + <p> + “Those who admire such obscenity will not have to bear the burthen if we + sin,” said the lady tartly. + </p> + <p> + “And you did not dance?” asked Granville. + </p> + <p> + “I shall never dance,” she replied. + </p> + <p> + “If I tell you that you ought to dance!” said her husband sharply. “Yes, + you ought to follow the fashions, to wear flowers in your hair, and + diamonds. Remember, my dear, that rich people—and we are rich—are + obliged to keep up luxury in the State. Is it not far better to encourage + manufacturers than to distribute money in the form of alms through the + medium of the clergy?” + </p> + <p> + “You talk as a statesman!” said Angelique. + </p> + <p> + “And you as a priest,” he retorted. + </p> + <p> + The discussion was bitter. Madame de Granville’s answers, though spoken + very sweetly and in a voice as clear as a church bell, showed an obstinacy + that betrayed priestly influence. When she appealed to the rights secured + to her by Granville’s promise, she added that her director specially + forbade her going to balls; then her husband pointed out to her that the + priest was overstepping the regulations of the Church. + </p> + <p> + This odious theological dispute was renewed with great violence and + acerbity on both sides when Granville proposed to take his wife to the + play. Finally, the lawyer, whose sole aim was to defeat the pernicious + influence exerted over his wife by her old confessor, placed the question + on such a footing that Madame de Granville, in a spirit of defiance, + referred it by writing to the Court of Rome, asking in so many words + whether a woman could wear low gowns and go to the play and to balls + without compromising her salvation. + </p> + <p> + The reply of the venerable Pope Pius VII. came at once, strongly + condemning the wife’s recalcitrancy and blaming the priest. This letter, a + chapter on conjugal duties, might have been dictated by the spirit of + Fenelon, whose grace and tenderness pervaded every line. + </p> + <p> + “A wife is right to go wherever her husband may take her. Even if she sins + by his command, she will not be ultimately held answerable.” These two + sentences of the Pope’s homily only made Madame de Granville and her + director accuse him of irreligion. + </p> + <p> + But before this letter had arrived, Granville had discovered the strict + observance of fast days that his wife forced upon him, and gave his + servants orders to serve him with meat every day in the year. However much + annoyed his wife might be by these commands, Granville, who cared not a + straw for such indulgence or abstinence, persisted with manly + determination. + </p> + <p> + Is it not an offence to the weakest creature that can think at all to be + compelled to do, by the will of another, anything that he would otherwise + have done simply of his own accord? Of all forms of tyranny, the most + odious is that which constantly robs the soul of the merit of its thoughts + and deeds. It has to abdicate without having reigned. The word we are + readiest to speak, the feelings we most love to express, die when we are + commanded to utter them. + </p> + <p> + Ere long the young man ceased to invite his friends, to give parties or + dinners; the house might have been shrouded in crape. A house where the + mistress is a bigot has an atmosphere of its own. The servants, who are, + of course, under her immediate control, are chosen among a class who call + themselves pious, and who have an unmistakable physiognomy. Just as the + jolliest fellow alive, when he joins the <i>gendarmerie</i>, has the + countenance of a gendarme, so those who give themselves over to the habit + of lowering their eyes and preserving a sanctimonious mien clothes them in + a livery of hypocrisy which rogues can affect to perfection. + </p> + <p> + And besides, bigots constitute a sort of republic; they all know each + other; the servants they recommend and hand on from one to another are a + race apart, and preserved by them, as horse-breeders will admit no animal + into their stables that has not a pedigree. The more the impious—as + they are thought—come to understand a household of bigots, the more + they perceive that everything is stamped with an indescribable squalor; + they find there, at the same time, an appearance of avarice and mystery, + as in a miser’s home, and the dank scent of cold incense which gives a + chill to the stale atmosphere of a chapel. This methodical meanness, this + narrowness of thought, which is visible in every detail, can only be + expressed by one word—Bigotry. In these sinister and pitiless houses + Bigotry is written on the furniture, the prints, the pictures; speech is + bigoted, the silence is bigoted, the faces are those of bigots. The + transformation of men and things into bigotry is an inexplicable mystery, + but the fact is evident. Everybody can see that bigots do not walk, do not + sit, do not speak, as men of the world walk, sit, and speak. Under their + roof every one is ill at ease, no one laughs, stiffness and formality + infect everything, from the mistress’ cap down to her pincushion; eyes are + not honest, the folks are more like shadows, and the lady of the house + seems perched on a throne of ice. + </p> + <p> + One morning poor Granville discerned with grief and pain that all the + symptoms of bigotry had invaded his home. There are in the world different + spheres in which the same effects are seen though produced by dissimilar + causes. Dulness hedges such miserable homes round with walls of brass, + enclosing the horrors of the desert and the infinite void. The home is not + so much a tomb as that far worse thing—a convent. In the center of + this icy sphere the lawyer could study his wife dispassionately. He + observed, not without keen regret, the narrow-mindedness that stood + confessed in the very way that her hair grew, low on the forehead, which + was slightly depressed; he discovered in the perfect regularity of her + features a certain set rigidity which before long made him hate the + assumed sweetness that had bewitched him. Intuition told him that one day + of disaster those thin lips might say, “My dear, it is for your good!” + </p> + <p> + Madame de Granville’s complexion was acquiring a dull pallor and an + austere expression that were a kill-joy to all who came near her. Was this + change wrought by the ascetic habits of a pharisaism which is not piety + any more than avarice is economy? It would be hard to say. Beauty without + expression is perhaps an imposture. This imperturbable set smile that the + young wife always wore when she looked at Granville seemed to be a sort of + Jesuitical formula of happiness, by which she thought to satisfy all the + requirements of married life. Her charity was an offence, her soulless + beauty was monstrous to those who knew her; the mildness of her speech was + an irritation: she acted, not on feeling, but on duty. + </p> + <p> + There are faults which may yield in a wife to the stern lessons of + experience, or to a husband’s warnings; but nothing can counteract false + ideas of religion. An eternity of happiness to be won, set in the scale + against worldly enjoyment, triumphs over everything and makes every pang + endurable. Is it not the apotheosis of egotism, of Self beyond the grave? + Thus even the Pope was censured at the tribunal of the priest and the + young devotee. To be always in the right is a feeling which absorbs every + other in these tyrannous souls. + </p> + <p> + For some time past a secret struggle had been going on between the ideas + of the husband and wife, and the young man was soon weary of a battle to + which there could be no end. What man, what temper, can endure the sight + of a hypocritically affectionate face and categorical resistance to his + slightest wishes? What is to be done with a wife who takes advantage of + his passion to protect her coldness, who seems determined on being blandly + inexorable, prepares herself ecstatically to play the martyr, and looks on + her husband as a scourge from God, a means of flagellation that may spare + her the fires of purgatory? What picture can give an idea of these women + who make virtue hateful by defying the gentle precepts of that faith which + Saint John epitomized in the words, “Love one another”? + </p> + <p> + If there was a bonnet to be found in a milliner’s shop that was condemned + to remain in the window, or to be packed off to the colonies, Granville + was certain to see it on his wife’s head; if a material of bad color or + hideous design were to be found, she would select it. These hapless bigots + are heart-breaking in their notions of dress. Want of taste is a defect + inseparable from false pietism. + </p> + <p> + And so, in the home-life that needs the fullest sympathy, Granville had no + true companionship. He went out alone to parties and the theatres. Nothing + in his house appealed to him. A huge Crucifix that hung between his bed + and Angelique’s seemed figurative of his destiny. Does it not represent a + murdered Divinity, a Man-God, done to death in all the prime of life and + beauty? The ivory of that cross was less cold than Angelique crucifying + her husband under the plea of virtue. This it was that lay at the root of + their woes; the young wife saw nothing but duty where she should have + given love. Here, one Ash Wednesday, rose the pale and spectral form of + Fasting in Lent, of Total Abstinence, commanded in a severe tone—and + Granville did not deem it advisable to write in his turn to the Pope and + take the opinion of the Consistory on the proper way of observing Lent, + the Ember days, and the eve of great festivals. + </p> + <p> + His misfortune was too great! He could not even complain, for what could + he say? He had a pretty young wife attached to her duties, virtuous—nay, + a model of all the virtues. She had a child every year, nursed them + herself, and brought them up in the highest principles. Being charitable, + Angelique was promoted to rank as an angel. The old women who constituted + the circle in which she moved—for at that time it was not yet “the + thing” for young women to be religious as a matter of fashion—all + admired Madame de Granville’s piety, and regarded her, not indeed as a + virgin, but as a martyr. They blamed not the wife’s scruples, but the + barbarous philoprogenitiveness of the husband. + </p> + <p> + Granville, by insensible degrees, overdone with work, bereft of conjugal + consolations, and weary of a world in which he wandered alone, by the time + he was two-and-thirty had sunk into the Slough of Despond. He hated life. + Having too lofty a notion of the responsibilities imposed on him by his + position to set the example of a dissipated life, he tried to deaden + feeling by hard study, and began a great book on Law. + </p> + <p> + But he was not allowed to enjoy the monastic peace he had hoped for. When + the celestial Angelique saw him desert worldly society to work at home + with such regularity, she tried to convert him. It had been a real sorrow + to her to know that her husband’s opinions were not strictly Christian; + and she sometimes wept as she reflected that if her husband should die it + would be in a state of final impenitence, so that she could not hope to + snatch him from the eternal fires of Hell. Thus Granville was a mark for + the mean ideas, the vacuous arguments, the narrow views by which his wife—fancying + she had achieved the first victory—tried to gain a second by + bringing him back within the pale of the Church. + </p> + <p> + This was the last straw. What can be more intolerable than the blind + struggle in which the obstinacy of a bigot tries to meet the acumen of a + lawyer? What more terrible to endure than the acrimonious pin-pricks to + which a passionate soul prefers a dagger-thrust? Granville neglected his + home. Everything there was unendurable. His children, broken by their + mother’s frigid despotism, dared not go with him to the play; indeed, + Granville could never give them any pleasure without bringing down + punishment from their terrible mother. His loving nature was weaned to + indifference, to a selfishness worse than death. His boys, indeed, he + saved from this hell by sending them to school at an early age, and + insisting on his right to train them. He rarely interfered between his + wife and her daughters; but he was resolved that they should marry as soon + as they were old enough. + </p> + <p> + Even if he had wished to take violent measures, he could have found no + justification; his wife, backed by a formidable army of dowagers, would + have had him condemned by the whole world. Thus Granville had no choice + but to live in complete isolation; but, crushed under the tyranny of + misery, he could not himself bear to see how altered he was by grief and + toil. And he dreaded any connection or intimacy with women of the world, + having no hope of finding any consolation. + </p> + <p> + The improving history of this melancholy household gave rise to no events + worthy of record during the fifteen years between 1806 and 1825. Madame de + Granville was exactly the same after losing her husband’s affection as she + had been during the time when she called herself happy. She paid for + Masses, beseeching God and the Saints to enlighten her as to what the + faults were which displeased her husband, and to show her the way to + restore the erring sheep; but the more fervent her prayers, the less was + Granville to be seen at home. + </p> + <p> + For about five years now, having achieved a high position as a judge, + Granville had occupied the <i>entresol</i> of the house to avoid living + with the Comtesse de Granville. Every morning a little scene took place, + which, if evil tongues are to be believed, is repeated in many households + as the result of incompatibility of temper, of moral or physical malady, + or of antagonisms leading to such disaster as is recorded in this history. + At about eight in the morning a housekeeper, bearing no small resemblance + to a nun, rang at the Comte de Granville’s door. Admitted to the room next + to the Judge’s study, she always repeated the same message to the footman, + and always in the same tone: + </p> + <p> + “Madame would be glad to know whether Monsieur le Comte has had a good + night, and if she is to have the pleasure of his company at breakfast.” + </p> + <p> + “Monsieur presents his compliments to Madame la Comtesse,” the valet would + say, after speaking with his master, “and begs her to hold him excused; + important business compels him to be in court this morning.” + </p> + <p> + A minute later the woman reappeared and asked on madame’s behalf whether + she would have the pleasure of seeing Monsieur le Comte before he went + out. + </p> + <p> + “He is gone,” was always the rely, though often his carriage was still + waiting. + </p> + <p> + This little dialogue by proxy became a daily ceremonial. Granville’s + servant, a favorite with his master, and the cause of more than one + quarrel over his irreligious and dissipated conduct, would even go into + his master’s room, as a matter of form, when the Count was not there, and + come back with the same formula in reply. + </p> + <p> + The aggrieved wife was always on the watch for her husband’s return, and + standing on the steps so as to meet him like an embodiment of remorse. The + petty aggressiveness which lies at the root of the monastic temper was the + foundation of Madame de Granville’s; she was now five-and-thirty, and + looked forty. When the count was compelled by decency to speak to his wife + or to dine at home, she was only too well pleased to inflict her company + upon him, with her acid-sweet remarks and the intolerable dulness of her + narrow-minded circle, and she tried to put him in the wrong before the + servants and her charitable friends. + </p> + <p> + When, at this time, the post of President in a provincial court was + offered to the Comte de Granville, who was in high favor, he begged to be + allowed to remain in Paris. This refusal, of which the Keeper of the Seals + alone knew the reasons, gave rise to extraordinary conjectures on the part + of the Countess’ intimate friends and of her director. Granville, a rich + man with a hundred thousand francs a year, belonged to one of the first + families of Normandy. His appointment to be Presiding Judge would have + been the stepping-stone to a peer’s seat; whence this strange lack of + ambition? Why had he given up his great book on Law? What was the meaning + of the dissipation which for nearly six years had made him a stranger to + his home, his family, his study, to all he ought to hold dear? The + Countess’ confessor, who based his hopes of a bishopric quite as much on + the families he governed as on the services he rendered to an association + of which he was an ardent propagator, was much disappointed by Granville’s + refusal, and tried to insinuate calumnious explanations: “If Monsieur le + Comte had such an objection to provincial life, it was perhaps because he + dreaded finding himself under the necessity of leading a regular life, + compelled to set an example of moral conduct, and to live with the + Countess, from whom nothing could have alienated him but some illicit + connection; for how could a woman so pure as Madame de Granville ever + tolerate the disorderly life into which her husband had drifted?” The + sanctimonious woman accepted as facts these hints, which unluckily were + not merely hypothetical, and Madame de Granville was stricken as by a + thunderbolt. + </p> + <p> + Angelique, knowing nothing of the world, of love and its follies, was so + far from conceiving of any conditions of married life unlike those that + had alienated her husband as possible, that she believed him to be + incapable of the errors which are crimes in the eyes of any wife. When the + Count ceased to demand anything of her, she imagined that the tranquillity + he now seemed to enjoy was in the course of nature; and, as she had really + given to him all the love which her heart was capable of feeling for a + man, while the priest’s conjectures were the utter destruction of the + illusions she had hitherto cherished, she defended her husband; at the + same time, she could not eradicate the suspicion that had been so + ingeniously sown in her soul. + </p> + <p> + These alarms wrought such havoc in her feeble brain that they made her + ill; she was worn by low fever. These incidents took place during Lent + 1822; she would not pretermit her austerities, and fell into a decline + that put her life in danger. Granville’s indifference was added torture; + his care and attention were such as a nephew feels himself bound to give + to some old uncle. + </p> + <p> + Though the Countess had given up her persistent nagging and remonstrances, + and tried to receive her husband with affectionate words, the sharpness of + the bigot showed through, and one speech would often undo the work of a + week. + </p> + <p> + Towards the end of May, the warm breath of spring, and more nourishing + diet than her Lenten fare, restored Madame de Granville to a little + strength. One morning, on coming home from Mass, she sat down on a stone + bench in the little garden, where the sun’s kisses reminded her of the + early days of her married life, and she looked back across the years to + see wherein she might have failed in her duty as a wife and mother. She + was broken in upon by the Abbe Fontanon in an almost indescribable state + of excitement. + </p> + <p> + “Has any misfortune befallen you, Father?” she asked with filial + solicitude. + </p> + <p> + “Ah! I only wish,” cried the Normandy priest, “that all the woes inflicted + on you by the hand of God were dealt out to me; but, my admirable friend, + there are trials to which you can but bow.” + </p> + <p> + “Can any worse punishments await me than those with which Providence + crushes me by making my husband the instrument of His wrath?” + </p> + <p> + “You must prepare yourself, daughter, to yet worse mischief than we and + your pious friends had ever conceived of.” + </p> + <p> + “Then I may thank God,” said the Countess, “for vouchsafing to use you as + the messenger of His will, and thus, as ever, setting the treasures of + mercy by the side of the scourges of His wrath, just as in bygone days He + showed a spring to Hagar when He had driven her into the desert.” + </p> + <p> + “He measures your sufferings by the strength of your resignation and the + weight of your sins.” + </p> + <p> + “Speak; I am ready to hear!” As she said it she cast her eyes up to + heaven. “Speak, Monsieur Fontanon.” + </p> + <p> + “For seven years Monsieur Granville has lived in sin with a concubine, by + whom he has two children; and on this adulterous connection he has spent + more than five hundred thousand francs, which ought to have been the + property of his legitimate family.” + </p> + <p> + “I must see it to believe it!” cried the Countess. + </p> + <p> + “Far be it from you!” exclaimed the Abbe. “You must forgive, my daughter, + and wait in patience and prayer till God enlightens your husband; unless, + indeed, you choose to adopt against him the means offered you by human + laws.” + </p> + <p> + The long conversation that ensued between the priest and his penitent + resulted in an extraordinary change in the Countess; she abruptly + dismissed him, called her servants who were alarmed at her flushed face + and crazy energy. She ordered her carriage—countermanded it—changed + her mind twenty times in the hour; but at last, at about three o’clock, as + if she had come to some great determination, she went out, leaving the + whole household in amazement at such a sudden transformation. + </p> + <p> + “Is the Count coming home to dinner?” she asked of his servant, to whom + she would never speak. + </p> + <p> + “No, madame.” + </p> + <p> + “Did you go with him to the Courts this morning?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, madame.” + </p> + <p> + “And to-day is Monday?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, madame.” + </p> + <p> + “Then do the Courts sit on Mondays nowadays?” + </p> + <p> + “Devil take you!” cried the man, as his mistress drove off after saying to + the coachman: + </p> + <p> + “Rue Taitbout.” + </p> + <p> + Mademoiselle de Bellefeuille was weeping: Roger, sitting by her side, held + one of her hands between his own. He was silent, looking by turns at + little Charles—who, not understanding his mother’s grief, stood + speechless at the sight of her tears—at the cot where Eugenie lay + sleeping, and Caroline’s face, on which grief had the effect of rain + falling across the beams of cheerful sunshine. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, my darling,” said Roger, after a long silence, “that is the great + secret: I am married. But some day I hope we may form but one family. My + wife has been given over ever since last March. I do not wish her dead; + still, if it should please God to take her to Himself, I believe she will + be happier in Paradise than in a world to whose griefs and pleasures she + is equally indifferent.” + </p> + <p> + “How I hate that woman! How could she bear to make you unhappy? And yet it + is to that unhappiness that I owe my happiness!” + </p> + <p> + Her tears suddenly ceased. + </p> + <p> + “Caroline, let us hope,” cried Roger. “Do not be frightened by anything + that priest may have said to you. Though my wife’s confessor is a man to + be feared for his power in the congregation, if he should try to blight + our happiness I would find means—” + </p> + <p> + “What could you do?” + </p> + <p> + “We would go to Italy: I would fly—” + </p> + <p> + A shriek that rang out from the adjoining room made Roger start and + Mademoiselle de Bellefeuille quake; but she rushed into the drawing-room, + and there found Madame de Granville in a dead faint. When the Countess + recovered her senses, she sighed deeply on finding herself supported by + the Count and her rival, whom she instinctively pushed away with a gesture + of contempt. Mademoiselle de Bellefeuille rose to withdraw. + </p> + <p> + “You are at home, madame,” said Granville, taking Caroline by the arm. + “Stay.” + </p> + <p> + The Judge took up his wife in his arms, carried her to the carriage, and + got into it with her. + </p> + <p> + “Who is it that has brought you to the point of wishing me dead, of + resolving to fly?” asked the Countess, looking at her husband with grief + mingled with indignation. “Was I not young? you thought me pretty—what + fault have you to find with me? Have I been false to you? Have I not been + a virtuous and well-conducted wife? My heart has cherished no image but + yours, my ears have listened to no other voice. What duty have I failed + in? What have I ever denied you?” + </p> + <p> + “Happiness, madame,” said the Count severely. “You know, madame, that + there are two ways of serving God. Some Christians imagine that by going + to church at fixed hours to say a <i>Paternoster</i>, by attending Mass + regularly and avoiding sin, they may win heaven—but they, madame, + will go to hell; they have not loved God for himself, they have not + worshiped Him as He chooses to be worshiped, they have made no sacrifice. + Though mild in seeming, they are hard on their neighbors; they see the + law, the letter, not the spirit.—This is how you have treated me, + your earthly husband; you have sacrificed my happiness to your salvation; + you were always absorbed in prayer when I came to you in gladness of + heart; you wept when you should have cheered my toil; you have never tried + to satisfy any demands I have made on you.” + </p> + <p> + “And if they were wicked,” cried the Countess hotly, “was I to lose my + soul to please you?” + </p> + <p> + “It is a sacrifice which another, a more loving woman, has dared to make,” + said Granville coldly. + </p> + <p> + “Dear God!” she cried, bursting into tears, “Thou hearest! Has he been + worthy of the prayers and penance I have lived in, wearing myself out to + atone for his sins and my own?—Of what avail is virtue?” + </p> + <p> + “To win Heaven, my dear. A woman cannot be at the same time the wife of a + man and the spouse of Christ. That would be bigamy; she must choose + between a husband and a nunnery. For the sake of future advantage you have + stripped your soul of all the love, all the devotion, which God commands + that you should have for me, you have cherished no feeling but hatred—” + </p> + <p> + “Have I not loved you?” she put in. + </p> + <p> + “No, madame.” + </p> + <p> + “Then what is love?” the Countess involuntarily inquired. + </p> + <p> + “Love, my dear,” replied Granville, with a sort of ironical surprise, “you + are incapable of understanding it. The cold sky of Normandy is not that of + Spain. This difference of climate is no doubt the secret of our disaster.—To + yield to our caprices, to guess them, to find pleasure in pain, to + sacrifice the world’s opinion, your pride, your religion even, and still + regard these offerings as mere grains of incense burnt in honor of the + idol—that is love—” + </p> + <p> + “The love of ballet-girls!” cried the Countess in horror. “Such flames + cannot last, and must soon leave nothing but ashes and cinders, regret or + despair. A wife ought, in my opinion, to bring you true friendship, + equable warmth—” + </p> + <p> + “You speak of warmth as negroes speak of ice,” retorted the Count, with a + sardonic smile. “Consider that the humblest daisy has more charms than the + proudest and most gorgeous of the red hawthorns that attract us in spring + by their strong scent and brilliant color.—At the same time,” he + went on, “I will do you justice. You have kept so precisely in the + straight path of imaginary duty prescribed by law, that only to make you + understand wherein you have failed towards me, I should be obliged to + enter into details which would offend your dignity, and instruct you in + matters which would seem to you to undermine all morality.” + </p> + <p> + “And you dare to speak of morality when you have but just left the house + where you have dissipated your children’s fortune in debaucheries?” cried + the Countess, maddened by her husband’s reticence. + </p> + <p> + “There, madame, I must correct you,” said the Count, coolly interrupting + his wife. “Though Mademoiselle de Bellefeuille is rich, it is at nobody’s + expense. My uncle was master of his fortune, and had several heirs. In his + lifetime, and out of pure friendship, regarding her as his niece, he gave + her the little estate of Bellefeuille. As for anything else, I owe it to + his liberality—” + </p> + <p> + “Such conduct is only worthy of a Jacobin!” said the sanctimonious + Angelique. + </p> + <p> + “Madame, you are forgetting that your own father was one of the Jacobins + whom you scorn so uncharitably,” said the Count severely. “Citizen Bontems + was signing death-warrants at a time when my uncle was doing France good + service.” + </p> + <p> + Madame de Granville was silenced. But after a short pause, the remembrance + of what she had just seen reawakened in her soul the jealousy which + nothing can kill in a woman’s heart, and she murmured, as if to herself—“How + can a woman thus destroy her own soul and that of others?” + </p> + <p> + “Bless me, madame,” replied the Count, tired of this dialogue, “you + yourself may some day have to answer that question.” The Countess was + scared. “You perhaps will be held excused by the merciful Judge, who will + weigh our sins,” he went on, “in consideration of the conviction with + which you have worked out my misery. I do not hate you—I hate those + who have perverted your heart and your reason. You have prayed for me, + just as Mademoiselle de Bellefeuille has given me her heart and crowned my + life with love. You should have been my mistress and the prayerful saint + by turns.—Do me the justice to confess that I am no reprobate, no + debauchee. My life was cleanly. Alas! after seven years of wretchedness, + the craving for happiness led me by an imperceptible descent to love + another woman and make a second home. And do not imagine that I am + singular; there are in this city thousands of husbands, all led by various + causes to live this twofold life.” + </p> + <p> + “Great God!” cried the Countess. “How heavy is the cross Thou hast laid on + me to bear! If the husband Thou hast given me here below in Thy wrath can + only be made happy through my death, take me to Thyself!” + </p> + <p> + “If you had always breathed such admirable sentiments and such devotion, + we should be happy yet,” said the Count coldly. + </p> + <p> + “Indeed,” cried Angelique, melting into a flood of tears, “forgive me if I + have done any wrong. Yes, monsieur, I am ready to obey you in all things, + feeling sure that you will desire nothing but what is just and natural; + henceforth I will be all you can wish your wife to be.” + </p> + <p> + “If your purpose, madame, is to compel me to say that I no longer love + you, I shall find the cruel courage to tell you so. Can I command my + heart? Can I wipe out in an instant the traces of fifteen years of + suffering?—I have ceased to love.—These words contain a + mystery as deep as lies the words <i>I love</i>. Esteem, respect, + friendship may be won, lost, regained; but as to love—I might school + myself for a thousand years, and it would not blossom again, especially + for a woman too old to respond to it.” + </p> + <p> + “I hope, Monsieur le Comte, I sincerely hope, that such words may not be + spoken to you some day by the woman you love, and in such a tone and + accent—” + </p> + <p> + “Will you put on a dress <i>a la Grecque</i> this evening, and come to the + Opera?” + </p> + <p> + The shudder with which the Countess received the suggestion was a mute + reply. + </p> + <p> + Early in December 1833, a man, whose perfectly white hair and worn + features seemed to show that he was aged by grief rather than by years, + was walking at midnight along the Rue Gaillon. Having reached a house of + modest appearance, and only two stories high, he paused to look up at one + of the attic windows that pierced the roof at regular intervals. A dim + light scarcely showed through the humble panes, some of which had been + repaired with paper. The man below was watching the wavering glimmer with + the vague curiosity of a Paris idler, when a young man came out of the + house. As the light of the street lamp fell full on the face of the first + comer, it will not seem surprising that, in spite of the darkness, this + young man went towards the passer-by, though with the hesitancy that is + usual when we have any fear of making a mistake in recognizing an + acquaintance. + </p> + <p> + “What, is it you,” cried he, “Monsieur le President? Alone at this hour, + and so far from the Rue Saint-Lazare. Allow me to have the honor of giving + you my arm.—The pavement is so greasy this morning, that if we do + not hold each other up,” he added, to soothe the elder man’s + susceptibilities, “we shall find it hard to escape a tumble.” + </p> + <p> + “But, my dear sir, I am no more than fifty-five, unfortunately for me,” + replied the Comte de Granville. “A physician of your celebrity must know + that at that age a man is still hale and strong.” + </p> + <p> + “Then you are in waiting on a lady, I suppose,” replied Horace Bianchon. + “You are not, I imagine, in the habit of going about Paris on foot. When a + man keeps such fine horses——” + </p> + <p> + “Still, when I am not visiting in the evening, I commonly return from the + Courts or the club on foot,” replied the Count. + </p> + <p> + “And with large sums of money about you, perhaps!” cried the doctor. “It + is a positive invitation to the assassin’s knife.” + </p> + <p> + “I am not afraid of that,” said Granville, with melancholy indifference. + </p> + <p> + “But, at least, do not stand about,” said the doctor, leading the Count + towards the boulevard. “A little more and I shall believe that you are + bent of robbing me of your last illness, and dying by some other hand than + mine.” + </p> + <p> + “You caught me playing the spy,” said the Count. “Whether on foot or in a + carriage, and at whatever hour of the night I may come by, I have for some + time past observed at a window on the third floor of your house the shadow + of a person who seems to work with heroic constancy.” + </p> + <p> + The Count paused as if he felt some sudden pain. “And I take as great an + interest in that garret,” he went on, “as a citizen of Paris must feel in + the finishing of the Palais Royal.” + </p> + <p> + “Well,” said Horace Bianchon eagerly, “I can tell you—” + </p> + <p> + “Tell me nothing,” replied Granville, cutting the doctor short. “I would + not give a centime to know whether the shadow that moves across that + shabby blind is that of a man or a woman, nor whether the inhabitant of + that attic is happy or miserable. Though I was surprised to see no one at + work there this evening, and though I stopped to look, it was solely for + the pleasure of indulging in conjectures as numerous and as idiotic as + those of idlers who see a building left half finished. For nine years, my + young—” the Count hesitated to use a word; then he waved his hand, + exclaiming—“No, I will not say friend—I hate everything that + savors of sentiment.—Well, for nine years past I have ceased to + wonder that old men amuse themselves with growing flowers and planting + trees; the events of life have taught them disbelief in all human + affection; and I grew old within a few days. I will no longer attach + myself to any creature but to unreasoning animals, or plants, or + superficial things. I think more of Taglioni’s grace than of all human + feeling. I abhor life and the world in which I live alone. Nothing, + nothing,” he went on, in a tone that startled the younger man, “no, + nothing can move or interest me.” + </p> + <p> + “But you have children?” + </p> + <p> + “My children!” he repeated bitterly. “Yes—well, is not my eldest + daughter the Comtesse de Vandenesse? The other will, through her sister’s + connections, make some good match. As to my sons, have they not succeeded? + The Viscount was public prosecutor at Limoges, and is now President of the + Court at Orleans; the younger is public prosecutor in Paris.—My + children have their own cares, their own anxieties and business to attend + to. If of all those hearts one had been devoted to me, if one had tried by + entire affection to fill up the void I have here,” and he struck his + breast, “well, that one would have failed in life, have sacrificed it to + me. And why should he? Why? To bring sunshine into my few remaining years—and + would he have succeeded? Might I not have accepted such generosity as a + debt? But, doctor,” and the Count smiled with deep irony, “it is not for + nothing that we teach them arithmetic and how to count. At this moment + perhaps they are waiting for my money.” + </p> + <p> + “O Monsieur le Comte, how could such an idea enter your head—you who + are kind, friendly, and humane! Indeed, if I were not myself a living + proof of the benevolence you exercise so liberally and so nobly—” + </p> + <p> + “To please myself,” replied the Count. “I pay for a sensation, as I would + to-morrow pay a pile of gold to recover the most childish illusion that + would but make my heart glow.—I help my fellow-creatures for my own + sake, just as I gamble; and I look for gratitude from none. I should see + you die without blinking; and I beg of you to feel the same with regard to + me. I tell you, young man, the events of life have swept over my heart + like the lavas of Vesuvius over Herculaneum. The town is there—dead.” + </p> + <p> + “Those who have brought a soul as warm and as living as yours was to such + a pitch of indifference are indeed guilty!” + </p> + <p> + “Say no more,” said the Count, with a shudder of aversion. + </p> + <p> + “You have a malady which you ought to allow me to treat,” said Bianchon in + a tone of deep emotion. + </p> + <p> + “What, do you know of a cure for death?” cried the Count irritably. + </p> + <p> + “I undertake, Monsieur le Comte, to revive the heart you believe to be + frozen.” + </p> + <p> + “Are you a match for Talma, then?” asked the Count satirically. + </p> + <p> + “No, Monsieur le Comte. But Nature is as far above Talma as Talma is + superior to me.—Listen: the garret you are interested in is + inhabited by a woman of about thirty, and in her love is carried to + fanaticism. The object of her adoration is a young man of pleasing + appearance but endowed by some malignant fairy with every conceivable + vice. This fellow is a gambler, and it is hard to say which he is most + addicted to—wine or women; he has, to my knowledge, committed acts + deserving punishment by law. Well, and to him this unhappy woman + sacrificed a life of ease, a man who worshiped her, and the father of her + children.—But what is wrong, Monsieur le Comte?” + </p> + <p> + “Nothing. Go on.” + </p> + <p> + “She has allowed him to squander a perfect fortune; she would, I believe, + give him the world if she had it; she works night and day; and many a time + she has, without a murmur, seen the wretch she adores rob her even of the + money saved to buy the clothes the children need, and their food for the + morrow. Only three days ago she sold her hair, the finest hair I ever saw; + he came in, she could not hide the gold piece quickly enough, and he asked + her for it. For a smile, for a kiss, she gave up the price of a + fortnight’s life and peace. Is it not dreadful, and yet sublime?—But + work is wearing her cheeks hollow. Her children’s crying has broken her + heart; she is ill, and at this moment on her wretched bed. This evening + they had nothing to eat; the children have not strength to cry, they were + silent when I went up.” + </p> + <p> + Horace Bianchon stood still. Just then the Comte de Granville, in spite of + himself, as it were, had put his hand into his waistcoat pocket. + </p> + <p> + “I can guess, my young friend, how it is that she is yet alive if you + attend her,” said the elder man. + </p> + <p> + “O poor soul!” cried the doctor, “who could refuse to help her? I only + wish I were richer, for I hope to cure her of her passion.” + </p> + <p> + “But how can you expect me to pity a form of misery of which the joys to + me would seem cheaply purchased with my whole fortune!” exclaimed the + Count, taking his hand out of his pocket empty of the notes which Bianchon + had supposed his patron to be feeling for. “That woman feels, she is + alive! Would not Louis XV. have given his kingdom to rise from the grave + and have three days of youth and life! And is not that the history of + thousands of dead men, thousands of sick men, thousands of old men?” + </p> + <p> + “Poor Caroline!” cried Bianchon. + </p> + <p> + As he heard the name the Count shuddered, and grasped the doctor’s arm + with the grip of an iron vise, as it seemed to Bianchon. + </p> + <p> + “Her name is Caroline Crochard?” asked the President, in a voice that was + evidently broken. + </p> + <p> + “Then you know her?” said the doctor, astonished. + </p> + <p> + “And the wretch’s name is Solvet.—Ay, you have kept your word!” + exclaimed Granville; “you have roused my heart to the most terrible pain + it can suffer till it is dust. That emotion, too, is a gift from hell, and + I always know how to pay those debts.” + </p> + <p> + By this time the Count and the doctor had reached the corner of the Rue de + la Chaussee d’Antin. One of those night-birds who wonder round with a + basket on their back and crook in hand, and were, during the Revolution, + facetiously called the Committee of Research, was standing by the + curbstone where the two men now stopped. This scavenger had a shriveled + face worthy of those immortalized by Charlet in his caricatures of the + sweepers of Paris. + </p> + <p> + “Do you ever pick up a thousand-franc note?” + </p> + <p> + “Now and then, master.” + </p> + <p> + “And you restore them?” + </p> + <p> + “It depends on the reward offered.” + </p> + <p> + “You’re the man for me,” cried the Count, giving the man a thousand-franc + note. “Take this, but, remember, I give it to you on condition of your + spending it at the wineshop, of your getting drunk, fighting, beating your + wife, blacking your friends’ eyes. That will give work to the watch, the + surgeon, the druggist—perhaps to the police, the public prosecutor, + the judge, and the prison warders. Do not try to do anything else, or the + devil will be revenged on you sooner or later.” + </p> + <p> + A draughtsman would need at once the pencil of Charlet and of Callot, the + brush of Teniers and of Rembrandt, to give a true notion of this + night-scene. + </p> + <p> + “Now I have squared accounts with hell, and had some pleasure for my + money,” said the Count in a deep voice, pointing out the indescribable + physiognomy of the gaping scavenger to the doctor, who stood stupefied. + “As for Caroline Crochard!—she may die of hunger and thirst, hearing + the heartrending shrieks of her starving children, and convinced of the + baseness of the man she loves. I will not give a sou to rescue her; and + because you have helped her, I will see you no more——” + </p> + <p> + The Count left Bianchon standing like a statue, and walked as briskly as a + young man to the Rue Saint-Lazare, soon reaching the little house where he + resided, and where, to his surprise, he found a carriage waiting at the + door. + </p> + <p> + “Monsieur, your son, the attorney-general, came about an hour since,” said + the man-servant, “and is waiting for you in your bedroom.” + </p> + <p> + Granville signed to the man to leave him. + </p> + <p> + “What motive can be strong enough to require you to infringe the order I + have given my children never to come to me unless I send for them?” asked + the Count of his son as he went into the room. + </p> + <p> + “Father,” replied the younger man in a tremulous voice, and with great + respect, “I venture to hope that you will forgive me when you have heard + me.” + </p> + <p> + “Your reply is proper,” said the Count. “Sit down,” and he pointed to a + chair, “But whether I walk up and down, or take a seat, speak without + heeding me.” + </p> + <p> + “Father,” the son went on, “this afternoon, at four o’clock, a very young + man who was arrested in the house of a friend of mine, whom he had robbed + to a considerable extent, appealed to you.—He says he is your son.” + </p> + <p> + “His name?” asked the Count hoarsely. + </p> + <p> + “Charles Crochard.” + </p> + <p> + “That will do,” said the father, with an imperious wave of the hand. + </p> + <p> + Granville paced the room in solemn silence, and his son took care not to + break it. + </p> + <p> + “My son,” he began, and the words were pronounced in a voice so mild and + fatherly, that the young lawyer started, “Charles Crochard spoke the + truth.—I am glad you came to me to-night, my good Eugene,” he added. + “Here is a considerable sum of money”—and he gave him a bundle of + banknotes—“you can make any use of them you think proper in this + matter. I trust you implicitly, and approve beforehand whatever + arrangements you may make, either in the present or for the future.—Eugene + my dear son, kiss me. We part perhaps for the last time. I shall to-morrow + crave my dismissal from the King, and I am going to Italy. + </p> + <p> + “Though a father owes no account of his life to his children, he is bound + to bequeath to them the experience Fate sells him so dearly—is it + not a part of their inheritance?—When you marry,” the count went on, + with a little involuntary shudder, “do not undertake it lightly; that act + is the most important of all which society requires of us. Remember to + study at your leisure the character of the woman who is to be your + partner; but consult me too, I will judge of her myself. A lack of union + between husband and wife, from whatever cause, leads to terrible + misfortune; sooner or later we are always punished for contravening the + social law.—But I will write to you on this subject from Florence. A + father who has the honor of presiding over a supreme court of justice must + not have to blush in the presence of his son. Good-bye.” + </p> + <p> + PARIS, February 1830-January 1842. + </p> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <a name="link2H_4_0002" id="link2H_4_0002"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <h2> + ADDENDUM + </h2> + <h3> + The following personages appear in other stories of the Human Comedy. + </h3> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + Beaumesnil, Mademoiselle + The Middle Classes + Scenes from a Courtesan’s Life + + Bianchon, Horace + Father Goriot + The Atheist’s Mass + Cesar Birotteau + The Commission in Lunacy + Lost Illusions + A Distinguished Provincial at Paris + A Bachelor’s Establishment + The Secrets of a Princess + The Government Clerks + Pierrette + A Study of Woman + Scenes from a Courtesan’s Life + Honorine + The Seamy Side of History + The Magic Skin + A Prince of Bohemia + Letters of Two Brides + The Muse of the Department + The Imaginary Mistress + The Middle Classes + Cousin Betty + The Country Parson + In addition, M. Bianchon narrated the following: + Another Study of Woman + La Grande Breteche + + Crochard, Charles + The Middle Classes + + Fontanon, Abbe + The Government Clerks + Honorine + The Member for Arcis + + Granville, Vicomte de (later Comte) + The Gondreville Mystery + Honorine + Farewell (Adieu) + Cesar Birotteau + Scenes from a Courtesan’s Life + A Daughter of Eve + Cousin Pons + + Granville, Comtesse Angelique de + The Thirteen + A Daughter of Eve + + Granville, Vicomte de + A Daughter of Eve + The Country Parson + + Granville, Baron Eugene de + Scenes from a Courtesan’s Life + + Molineux, Jean-Baptiste + The Purse + Cesar Birotteau + + Regnier, Claude-Antoine + The Gondreville Mystery + + Roguin, Madame + Cesar Birotteau + At the Sign of the Cat and Racket + Pierrette + A Daughter of Eve + + Vandenesse, Comtesse Felix de + A Daughter of Eve + The Muse of the Department +</pre> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of A Second Home, by Honore de Balzac + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK A SECOND HOME *** + +***** This file should be named 1810-h.htm or 1810-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/1/8/1/1810/ + +Produced by John Bickers, and Dagny + +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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