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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/3664-h.zip b/3664-h.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..eed3a09 --- /dev/null +++ b/3664-h.zip diff --git a/3664-h/3664-h.htm b/3664-h/3664-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..e09dc6e --- /dev/null +++ b/3664-h/3664-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,5205 @@ +<!DOCTYPE HTML PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD HTML 4.01 Transitional//EN"> +<HTML> +<HEAD> + +<META HTTP-EQUIV="Content-Type" CONTENT="text/html; charset=iso-8859-1"> + +<TITLE> +The Project Gutenberg E-text of Yvette, by Henri Rene Guy de Maupassant +</TITLE> + +<STYLE TYPE="text/css"> +BODY { color: Black; + background: White; + margin-right: 10%; + margin-left: 10%; + font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; + text-align: justify } + +P {text-indent: 4% } + +P.noindent {text-indent: 0% } + +P.poem {text-indent: 0%; + margin-left: 10%; + font-size: small } + +P.letter {text-indent: 0%; + font-size: small ; + margin-left: 10% ; + margin-right: 10% } + +P.finis { font-size: larger ; + text-align: center ; + text-indent: 0% ; + margin-left: 0% ; + margin-right: 0% } + +</STYLE> + +</HEAD> + +<BODY> + + +<pre> + +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Yvette, by Henri Rene Guy de Maupassant + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Yvette + +Author: Henri Rene Guy de Maupassant + +Posting Date: April 29, 2009 [EBook #3664] +Release Date: January, 2003 +First Posted: July 9, 2001 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK YVETTE *** + + + + +Produced by Charles Franks and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team. HTML version by Al Haines. + + + + + + +</pre> + + +<BR><BR> + +<H1 ALIGN="center"> +Yvette +</H1> + +<BR> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +by +</H3> + +<H2 ALIGN="center"> +Henri Rene Guy de Maupassant +</H2> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<H2 ALIGN="center"> +CONTENTS +</H2> + +<TABLE ALIGN="center" WIDTH="80%"> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">I. </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap01">The Initiation of Saval</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">II. </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap02">Bougival and Love</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">III. </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap03">Enlightenment</A></TD> +</TR> + +<TR> +<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">IV. </TD> +<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top"> +<A HREF="#chap04">From Emotion to Philosophy</A></TD> +</TR> + +</TABLE> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap01"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER I. +</H3> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +The Initiation of Saval +</H3> + +<P> +As they were leaving the Cafe Riche, Jean de Servigny said to Leon +Saval: "If you don't object, let us walk. The weather is too fine to +take a cab." +</P> + +<P> +His friend answered: "I would like nothing better." +</P> + +<P> +Jean replied: "It is hardly eleven o'clock. We shall arrive much +before midnight, so let us go slowly." +</P> + +<P> +A restless crowd was moving along the boulevard, that throng +peculiar to summer nights, drinking, chatting, and flowing like a +river, filled with a sense of comfort and joy. Here and there a cafe +threw a flood of light upon a knot of patrons drinking at little +tables on the sidewalk, which were covered with bottles and glasses, +hindering the passing of the hurrying multitude. On the pavement the +cabs with their red, blue, or green lights dashed by, showing for a +second, in the glimmer, the thin shadow of the horse, the raised +profile of the coachman, and the dark box of the carriage. The cabs +of the Urbaine Company made clear and rapid spots when their yellow +panels were struck by the light. +</P> + +<P> +The two friends walked with slow steps, cigars in their mouths, in +evening dress and overcoats on their arms, with a flower in their +buttonholes, and their hats a trifle on one side, as men will +carelessly wear them sometimes, after they have dined well and the +air is mild. +</P> + +<P> +They had been linked together since their college days by a close, +devoted, and firm affection. Jean de Servigny, small, slender, a +trifle bald, rather frail, with elegance of mien, curled mustache, +bright eyes, and fine lips, was a man who seemed born and bred upon +the boulevard. He was tireless in spite of his languid air, strong +in spite of his pallor, one of those slight Parisians to whom +gymnastic exercise, fencing, cold shower and hot baths give a +nervous, artificial strength. He was known by his marriage as well +as by his wit, his fortune, his connections, and by that +sociability, amiability, and fashionable gallantry peculiar to +certain men. +</P> + +<P> +A true Parisian, furthermore, light, sceptical, changeable, +captivating, energetic, and irresolute, capable of everything and of +nothing; selfish by principle and generous on occasion, he lived +moderately upon his income, and amused himself with hygiene. +Indifferent and passionate, he gave himself rein and drew back +constantly, impelled by conflicting instincts, yielding to all, and +then obeying, in the end, his own shrewd man-about-town judgment, +whose weather-vane logic consisted in following the wind and drawing +profit from circumstances without taking the trouble to originate +them. +</P> + +<P> +His companion, Leon Saval, rich also, was one of those superb and +colossal figures who make women turn around in the streets to look +at them. He gave the idea of a statue turned into a man, a type of a +race, like those sculptured forms which are sent to the Salons. Too +handsome, too tall, too big, too strong, he sinned a little from the +excess of everything, the excess of his qualities. He had on hand +countless affairs of passion. +</P> + +<P> +As they reached the Vaudeville theater, he asked: "Have you warned +that lady that you are going to take me to her house to see her?" +</P> + +<P> +Servigny began to laugh: "Forewarn the Marquise Obardi! Do you warn +an omnibus driver that you shall enter his stage at the corner of +the boulevard?" +</P> + +<P> +Saval, a little perplexed, inquired: "What sort of person is this +lady?" +</P> + +<P> +His friend replied: "An upstart, a charming hussy, who came from no +one knows where, who made her appearance one day, nobody knows how, +among the adventuresses of Paris, knowing perfectly well how to take +care of herself. Besides, what difference does it make to us? They +say that her real name, her maiden name—for she still has every +claim to the title of maiden except that of innocence—is Octavia +Bardin, from which she constructs the name Obardi by prefixing the +first letter of her first name and dropping the last letter of the +last name." +</P> + +<P> +"Moreover, she is a lovable woman, and you, from your physique, are +inevitably bound to become her lover. Hercules is not introduced +into Messalina's home without making some disturbance. Nevertheless +I make bold to add that if there is free entrance to this house, +just as there is in bazaars, you are not exactly compelled to buy +what is for sale. Love and cards are on the programme, but nobody +compels you to take up with either. And the exit is as free as the +entrance." +</P> + +<P> +"She settled down in the Etoile district, a suspicious neighborhood, +three years ago, and opened her drawing-room to that froth of the +continents which comes to Paris to practice its various formidable +and criminal talents." +</P> + +<P> +"I don't remember just how I went to her house. I went as we all go, +because there is card playing, because the women are compliant, and +the men dishonest. I love that social mob of buccaneers with +decorations of all sorts of orders, all titled, and all entirely +unknown at their embassies, except to the spies. They are always +dragging in the subject of honor, quoting the list of their +ancestors on the slightest provocation, and telling the story of +their life at every opportunity, braggarts, liars, sharpers, +dangerous as their cards, false as their names, brave because they +have to be, like the assassins who can not pluck their victims +except by exposing their own lives. In a word, it is the aristocracy +of the bagnio." +</P> + +<P> +"I like them. They are interesting to fathom and to know, amusing to +listen to, often witty, never commonplace as the ordinary French +guests. Their women are always pretty, with a little flavor of +foreign knavery, with the mystery of their past existence, half of +which, perhaps, spent in a House of Correction. They generally have +fine eyes and glorious hair, the true physique of the profession, an +intoxicating grace, a seductiveness which drives men to folly, an +unwholesome, irresistible charm! They conquer like the highwaymen of +old. They are rapacious creatures; true birds of prey. I like them, +too." +</P> + +<P> +"The Marquise Obardi is one of the type of these elegant +good-for-nothings. Ripe and pretty, with a feline charm, you can see +that she is vicious to the marrow. Everybody has a good time at her +house, with cards, dancing, and suppers; in fact there is everything +which goes to make up the pleasures of fashionable society life." +</P> + +<P> +"Have you ever been or are you now her lover?" Leon Saval asked. +</P> + +<P> +"I have not been her lover, I am not now, and I never shall be. I +only go to the house to see her daughter." +</P> + +<P> +"Ah! She has a daughter, then?" +</P> + +<P> +"A daughter! A marvel, my dear man. She is the principal attraction +of the den to-day. Tall, magnificent, just ripe, eighteen years old, +as fair as her mother is dark, always merry, always ready for an +entertainment, always laughing, and ready to dance like mad. Who +will be the lucky man, to capture her, or who has already done so? +Nobody can tell that. She has ten of us in her train, all hoping." +</P> + +<P> +"Such a daughter in the hands of a woman like the Marquise is a +fortune. And they play the game together, the two charmers. No one +knows just what they are planning. Perhaps they are waiting for a +better bargain than I should prove. But I tell you that I shall +close the bargain if I ever get a chance." +</P> + +<P> +"That girl Yvette absolutely baffles me, moreover. She is a mystery. +If she is not the most complete monster of astuteness and perversity +that I have ever seen, she certainly is the most marvelous +phenomenon of innocence that can be imagined. She lives in that +atmosphere of infamy with a calm and triumphing ease which is either +wonderfully profligate or entirely artless. Strange scion of an +adventuress, cast upon the muck-heap of that set, like a magnificent +plant nurtured upon corruption, or rather like the daughter of some +noble race, of some great artist, or of some grand lord, of some +prince or dethroned king, tossed some evening into her mother's +arms, nobody can make out what she is nor what she thinks. But you +are going to see her." +</P> + +<P> +Saval began to laugh and said: "You are in love with her." +</P> + +<P> +"No. I am on the list, which is not precisely the same thing. I will +introduce you to my most serious rivals. But the chances are in my +favor. I am in the lead, and some little distinction is shown to +me." +</P> + +<P> +"You are in love," Saval repeated. +</P> + +<P> +"No. She disquiets me, seduces and disturbs me, attracts and +frightens me away. I mistrust her as I would a trap, and I long for +her as I long for a sherbet when I am thirsty. I yield to her charm, +and I only approach her with the apprehension that I would feel +concerning a man who was known to be a skillful thief. To her +presence I have an irrational impulse toward belief in her possible +purity and a very reasonable mistrust of her not less probable +trickery. I feel myself in contact with an abnormal being, beyond +the pale of natural laws, an exquisite or detestable creature—I +don't know which." +</P> + +<P> +For the third time Saval said: "I tell you that you are in love. You +speak of her with the magniloquence of a poet and the feeling of a +troubadour. Come, search your heart, and confess." +</P> + +<P> +Servigny walked a few steps without answering. Then he replied: +</P> + +<P> +"That is possible, after all. In any case, she fills my mind almost +continually. Yes, perhaps I am in love. I dream about her too much. +I think of her when I am asleep and when I awake—that is surely a +grave indication. Her face follows me, accompanies me ceaselessly, +ever before me, around me, with me. Is this love, this physical +infatuation? Her features are so stamped upon my vision that I see +her the moment I shut my eyes. My heart beats quickly every time I +look at her, I don't deny it." +</P> + +<P> +"So I am in love with her, but in a queer fashion. I have the +strongest desire for her, and yet the idea of making her my wife +would seem to me a folly, a piece of stupidity, a monstrous thing: +And I have a little fear of her, as well, the fear which a bird +feels over which a hawk is hovering." +</P> + +<P> +"And again I am jealous of her, jealous of all of which I am +ignorant in her incomprehensible heart. I am always wondering: 'Is +she a charming youngster or a wretched jade?' She says things that +would make an army shudder; but so does a parrot. She is at times so +indiscreet and yet modest that I am forced to believe in her +spotless purity, and again so incredibly artless that I must suspect +that she has never been chaste. She allures me, excites me, like a +woman of a certain category, and at the same time acts like an +impeccable virgin. She seems to love me and yet makes fun of me; she +deports herself in public as if she were my mistress and treats me +in private as if I were her brother or footman." +</P> + +<P> +"There are times when I fancy that she has as many lovers as her +mother. And at other times I imagine that she suspects absolutely +nothing of that sort of life, you understand. Furthermore, she is a +great novel reader. I am at present, while awaiting something +better, her book purveyor. She calls me her 'librarian.' Every week +the New Book Store sends her, on my orders, everything new that has +appeared, and I believe that she reads everything at random. It must +make a strange sort of mixture in her head." +</P> + +<P> +"That kind of literary hasty-pudding accounts perhaps for some of +the girl's peculiar ways. When a young woman looks at existence +through the medium of fifteen thousand novels, she must see it in a +strange light, and construct queer ideas about matters and things in +general. As for me, I am waiting. It is certain at any rate that I +never have had for any other woman the devotion which I have had for +her. And still it is quite certain that I shall never marry her. So +if she has had numbers, I shall swell the number. And if she has +not, I shall take the first ticket, just as I would do for a street +car." +</P> + +<P> +"The case is very simple. Of course, she will never marry. Who in +the world would marry the Marquise Obardi's daughter, the child of +Octavia Bardin? Nobody, for a thousand reasons. Where would they +ever find a husband for her? In society? Never. The mother's house +is a sort of liberty-hall whose patronage is attracted by the +daughter. Girls don't get married under those conditions." +</P> + +<P> +"Would she find a husband among the trades-people? Still less would +that be possible. And besides the Marquise is not the woman to make +a bad bargain; she will give Yvette only to a man of high position, +and that man she will never discover." +</P> + +<P> +"Then perhaps she will look among the common people. Still less +likely. There is no solution of the problem, then. This young lady +belongs neither to society, nor to the tradesmen's class, nor to the +common people, and she can never enter any of these ranks by +marriage." +</P> + +<P> +"She belongs through her mother, her birth, her education, her +inheritance, her manners, and her customs, to the vortex of the most +rapid life of Paris. She can never escape it, save by becoming a +nun, which is not at all probable with her manners and tastes. She +has only one possible career, a life of pleasure. She will come to +it sooner or later, if indeed she has not already begun to tread its +primrose path. She cannot escape her fate. From being a young girl +she will take the inevitable step, quite simply. And I would like to +be the pivot of this transformation." +</P> + +<P> +"I am waiting. There are many lovers. You will see among them a +Frenchman, Monsieur de Belvigne; a Russian, called Prince Kravalow, +and an Italian, Chevalier Valreali, who have all announced their +candidacies and who are consequently maneuvering to the best of +their ability. In addition to these there are several freebooters of +less importance. The Marquise waits and watches. But I think that +she has views about me. She knows that I am very rich, and she makes +less of the others." +</P> + +<P> +"Her drawing-room is, moreover, the most astounding that I know of, +in such, exhibitions. You even meet very decent men there, like +ourselves. As for the women, she has culled the best there is from +the basket of pickpockets. Nobody knows where she found them. It is +a set apart from Bohemia, apart from everything. She has had one +inspiration showing genius, and that is the knack of selecting +especially those adventuresses who have children, generally girls. +So that a fool might believe that in her house he was among +respectable women!" They had reached the avenue of the Champs-Elysees. +A gentle breeze softly stirred the leaves and touched the faces of +passers-by, like the breaths of a giant fan, waving somewhere in +the sky. Silent shadows wandered beneath the trees; others, on +benches, made a dark spot. And these shadows spoke very low, as if +they were telling each other important or shameful secrets. +</P> + +<P> +"You can't imagine what a collection of fictitious titles are met in +this lair," said Servigny, "By the way, I shall present you by the +name of Count Saval; plain Saval would not do at all." +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, no, indeed!" cried his friend; "I would not have anyone think +me capable of borrowing a title, even for an evening, even among +those people. Ah, no!" +</P> + +<P> +Servigny began to laugh. +</P> + +<P> +"How stupid you are! Why, in that set they call me the Duke de +Servigny. I don't know how nor why. But at any rate the Duke de +Servigny I am and shall remain, without complaining or protesting. +It does not worry me. I should have no footing there whatever +without a title." +</P> + +<P> +But Saval would not be convinced. +</P> + +<P> +"Well, you are of rank, and so you may remain. But, as for me, no. I +shall be the only common person in the drawing-room. So much the +worse, or, so much the better. It will be my mark of distinction and +superiority." +</P> + +<P> +Servigny was obstinate. +</P> + +<P> +"I tell you that it is not possible. Why, it would almost seem +monstrous. You would have the effect of a ragman at a meeting of +emperors. Let me do as I like. I shall introduce you as the Vice-Roi +du 'Haut-Mississippi,' and no one will be at all astonished. When a +man takes on greatness, he can't take too much." +</P> + +<P> +"Once more, no, I do not wish it." +</P> + +<P> +"Very well, have your way. But, in fact, I am very foolish to try to +convince you. I defy you to get in without some one giving you a +title, just as they give a bunch of violets to the ladies at the +entrance to certain stores." +</P> + +<P> +They turned to the right in the Rue de Barrie, mounted one flight of +stairs in a fine modern house, and gave their overcoats and canes +into the hands of four servants in knee-breeches. A warm odor, as of +a festival assembly, filled the air, an odor of flowers, perfumes, +and women; and a composed and continuous murmur came from the +adjoining rooms, which were filled with people. +</P> + +<P> +A kind of master of ceremonies, tall, erect, wide of girth, serious, +his face framed in white whiskers, approached the newcomers, asking +with a short and haughty bow: "Whom shall I announce?" +</P> + +<P> +"Monsieur Saval," Servigny replied. +</P> + +<P> +Then with a loud voice, the man opening the door cried out to the +crowd of guests: +</P> + +<P> +"Monsieur the Duke de Servigny." +</P> + +<P> +"Monsieur the Baron Saval." +</P> + +<P> +The first drawing-room was filled with women. The first thing which +attracted attention was the display of bare shoulders, above a flood +of brilliant gowns. +</P> + +<P> +The mistress of the house who stood talking with three friends, +turned and came forward with a majestic step, with grace in her mien +and a smile on her lips. Her forehead was narrow and very low, and +was covered with a mass of glossy black hair, encroaching a little +upon the temples. +</P> + +<P> +She was tall, a trifle too large, a little too stout, over ripe, but +very pretty, with a heavy, warm, potent beauty. Beneath that mass of +hair, full of dreams and smiles, rendering her mysteriously +captivating, were enormous black eyes. Her nose was a little narrow, +her mouth large and infinitely seductive, made to speak and to +conquer. +</P> + +<P> +Her greatest charm was in her voice. It came from that mouth as +water from a spring, so natural, so light, so well modulated, so +clear, that there was a physical pleasure in listening to it. It was +a joy for the ear to hear the flexible words flow with the grace of +a babbling brook, and it was a joy for the eyes to see those pretty +lips, a trifle too red, open as the words rippled forth. +</P> + +<P> +She gave one hand to Servigny, who kissed it, and dropping her fan +on its little gold chain, she gave the other to Saval, saying to +him: "You are welcome, Baron, all the Duke's friends are at home +here." +</P> + +<P> +Then she fixed her brilliant eyes upon the Colossus who had just +been introduced to her. She had just the slightest down on her upper +lip, a suspicion of a mustache, which seemed darker when she spoke. +There was a pleasant odor about her, pervading, intoxicating, some +perfume of America or of the Indies. Other people came in, +marquesses, counts or princes. She said to Servigny, with the +graciousness of a mother: "You will find my daughter in the other +parlor. Have a good time, gentlemen, the house is yours." +</P> + +<P> +And she left them to go to those who had come later, throwing at +Saval that smiling and fleeting glance which women use to show that +they are pleased. Servigny grasped his friend's arm. +</P> + +<P> +"I will pilot you," said he. "In this parlor where we now are, +women, the temples of the fleshly, fresh or otherwise. Bargains as +good as new, even better, for sale or on lease. At the right, +gaming, the temple of money. You understand all about that. At the +lower end, dancing, the temple of innocence, the sanctuary, the +market for young girls. They are shown off there in every light. +Even legitimate marriages are tolerated. It is the future, the hope, +of our evenings. And the most curious part of this museum of moral +diseases are these young girls whose souls are out of joint, just +like the limbs of the little clowns born of mountebanks. Come and +look at them." +</P> + +<P> +He bowed, right and left, courteously, a compliment on his lips, +sweeping each low-gowned woman whom he knew with the look of an +expert. +</P> + +<P> +The musicians, at the end of the second parlor, were playing a +waltz; and the two friends stopped at the door to look at them. A +score of couples were whirling-the men with a serious expression, +and the women with a fixed smile on their lips. They displayed a +good deal of shoulder, like their mothers; and the bodices of some +were only held in place by a slender ribbon, disclosing at times +more than is generally shown. +</P> + +<P> +Suddenly from the end of the room a tall girl darted forward, +gliding through the crowd, brushing against the dancers, and holding +her long train in her left hand. She ran with quick little steps as +women do in crowds, and called out: "Ah! How is Muscade? How do you +do, Muscade?" +</P> + +<P> +Her features wore an expression of the bloom of life, the +illumination of happiness. Her white flesh seemed to shine, the +golden-white flesh which goes with red hair. The mass of her +tresses, twisted on her head, fiery, flaming locks, nestled against +her supple neck, which was still a little thin. +</P> + +<P> +She seemed to move just as her mother was made to speak, so natural, +noble, and simple were her gestures. A person felt a moral joy and +physical pleasure in seeing her walk, stir about, bend her head, or +lift her arm. "Ah! Muscade, how do you do, Muscade?" she repeated. +</P> + +<P> +Servigny shook her hand violently, as he would a man's, and said: +"Mademoiselle Yvette, my friend, Baron Saval." +</P> + +<P> +"Good evening, Monsieur. Are you always as tall as that?" +</P> + +<P> +Servigny replied in that bantering tone which he always used with +her, in order to conceal his mistrust and his uncertainty: +</P> + +<P> +"No, Mam'zelle. He has put on his greatest dimensions to please your +mother, who loves a colossus." +</P> + +<P> +And the young girl remarked with a comic seriousness: "Very well But +when you come to see me you must diminish a little if you please. I +prefer the medium height. Now Muscade has just the proportions which +I like." +</P> + +<P> +And she gave her hand to the newcomer. Then she asked: "Do you +dance, Muscade? Come, let us waltz." Without replying, with a quick +movement, passionately, Servigny clasped her waist and they +disappeared with the fury of a whirlwind. +</P> + +<P> +They danced more rapidly than any of the others, whirled and +whirled, and turned madly, so close together that they seemed but +one, and with the form erect, the legs almost motionless, as if some +invisible mechanism, concealed beneath their feet, caused them to +twirl. They appeared tireless. The other dancers stopped from time +to time. They still danced on, alone. They seemed not to know where +they were nor what they were doing, as if, they had gone far away +from the ball, in an ecstasy. The musicians continued to play, with +their looks fixed upon this mad couple; all the guests gazed at +them, and when finally they did stop dancing, everyone applauded +them. +</P> + +<P> +She was a little flushed, with strange eyes, ardent and timid, less +daring than a moment before, troubled eyes, blue, yet with a pupil +so black that they seemed hardly natural. Servigny appeared giddy. +He leaned against a door to regain his composure. +</P> + +<P> +"You have no head, my poor Muscade, I am steadier than you," said +Yvette to Servigny. He smiled nervously, and devoured her with a +look. His animal feelings revealed themselves in his eyes and in the +curl of his lips. She stood beside him looking down, and her bosom +rose and fell in short gasps as he looked at her. +</P> + +<P> +Then she said softly: "Really, there are times when you are like a +tiger about to spring upon his prey. Come, give me your arm, and let +us find your friend." +</P> + +<P> +Silently he offered her his arm and they went down the long drawing-room +together. +</P> + +<P> +Saval was not alone, for the Marquise Obardi had rejoined him. She +conversed with him on ordinary and fashionable subjects with a +seductiveness in her tones which intoxicated him. And, looking at +her with his mental eye, it seemed to him that her lips, uttered +words far different from those which they formed. When she saw +Servigny her face immediately lighted up, and turning toward him she +said: +</P> + +<P> +"You know, my dear Duke, that I have just leased a villa at Bougival +for two months, and I count upon your coming to see me there, and +upon your friend also. Listen. We take possession next Monday, and +shall expect both of you to dinner the following Saturday. We shall +keep you over Sunday." +</P> + +<P> +Perfectly serene and tranquil Yvette smiled, saying with a decision +which swept away hesitation on his part: +</P> + +<P> +"Of course Muscade will come to dinner on Saturday. We have only to +ask him, for he and I intend to commit a lot of follies in the +country." +</P> + +<P> +He thought he divined the birth of a promise in her smile, and in +her voice he heard what he thought was invitation. +</P> + +<P> +Then the Marquise turned her big, black eyes upon Saval: "And you +will, of course, come, Baron?" +</P> + +<P> +With a smile that forbade doubt, he bent toward her, saying, "I +shall be only too charmed, Madame." +</P> + +<P> +Then Yvette murmured with malice that was either naive or +traitorous: "We will set all the world by the ears down there, won't +we, Muscade, and make my regiment of admirers fairly mad." And with +a look, she pointed out a group of men who were looking at them from +a little distance. +</P> + +<P> +Said Servigny to her: "As many follies as YOU may please, +Mam'zelle." +</P> + +<P> +In speaking to Yvette, Servigny never used the word "Mademoiselle," +by reason of his close and long intimacy with her. +</P> + +<P> +Then Saval asked: "Why does Mademoiselle always call my friend +Servigny 'Muscade'?" +</P> + +<P> +Yvette assumed a very frank air and said: +</P> + +<P> +"I will tell you: It is because he always slips through my hands. +Now I think I have him, and then I find I have not." +</P> + +<P> +The Marquise, with her eyes upon Saval, arid evidently preoccupied, +said in a careless tone: "You children are very funny." +</P> + +<P> +But Yvette bridled up: "I do not intend to be funny; I am simply +frank. Muscade pleases me, and is always deserting me, and that is +what annoys me." +</P> + +<P> +Servigny bowed profoundly, saying: "I will never leave you any more, +Mam'zelle, neither day nor night." She made a gesture of horror: +</P> + +<P> +"My goodness! no—what do you mean? You are all right during the +day, but at night you might embarrass me." +</P> + +<P> +With an air of impertinence he asked: "And why?" +</P> + +<P> +Yvette responded calmly and audaciously, "Because you would not look +well en deshabille." +</P> + +<P> +The Marquise, without appearing at all disturbed, said: "What +extraordinary subjects for conversation. One would think that you +were not at all ignorant of such things." +</P> + +<P> +And Servigny jokingly added: "That is also my opinion, Marquise." +</P> + +<P> +Yvette turned her eyes upon him, and in a haughty, yet wounded, tone +said: "You are becoming very vulgar—just as you have been several +times lately." And turning quickly she appealed to an individual +standing by: +</P> + +<P> +"Chevalier, come and defend me from insult." +</P> + +<P> +A thin, brown man, with an easy carriage, came forward. +</P> + +<P> +"Who is the culprit?" said he, with a constrained smile. +</P> + +<P> +Yvette pointed out Servigny with a nod of her head: +</P> + +<P> +"There he is, but I like him better than I do you, because he is +less of a bore." +</P> + +<P> +The Chevalier Valreali bowed: +</P> + +<P> +"I do what I can, Mademoiselle. I may have less ability, but not +less devotion." +</P> + +<P> +A gentleman came forward, tall and stout, with gray whiskers, saying +in loud tones: "Mademoiselle Yvette, I am your most devoted slave." +</P> + +<P> +Yvette cried: "Ah, Monsieur de Belvigne." Then turning toward Saval, +she introduced him. +</P> + +<P> +"My last adorer—big, fat, rich, and stupid. Those are the kind I +like. A veritable drum-major—but of the table d'hote. But see, you +are still bigger than he. How shall I nickname you? Good! I have it. +I shall call you 'M. Colossus of Rhodes, Junior,' from the Colossus +who certainly was your father. But you two ought to have very +interesting things to say to each other up there, above the heads of +us all—so, by-bye." +</P> + +<P> +And she left them quickly, going to the orchestra to make the +musicians strike up a quadrille. +</P> + +<P> +Madame Obardi seemed preoccupied. In a soft voice she said to +Servigny: +</P> + +<P> +"You are always teasing her. You will warp her character and bring +out many bad traits." +</P> + +<P> +Servigny replies: "Why, haven't you finished her education?" +</P> + +<P> +She appeared not to understand, and continued talking in a friendly +way. But she noticed a solemn looking man, wearing a perfect +constellation of crosses and orders, standing near her, and she ran +to him: +</P> + +<P> +"Ah Prince, Prince, what good fortune!" +</P> + +<P> +Servigny took Saval's arm and drew him away: +</P> + +<P> +"That is the latest serious suitor, Prince Kravalow. Isn't she +superb?" +</P> + +<P> +"To my mind they are both superb. The mother would suffice for me +perfectly," answered Saval. +</P> + +<P> +Servigny nodded and said: "At your disposal, my dear boy." +</P> + +<P> +The dancers elbowed them aside, as they were forming for a +quadrille. +</P> + +<P> +"Now let us go and see the sharpers," said Servigny. And they +entered the gambling-room. +</P> + +<P> +Around each table stood a group of men, looking on. There was very +little conversation. At times the clink of gold coins, tossed upon +the green cloth or hastily seized, added its sound to the murmur of +the players, just as if the money was putting in its word among the +human voices. +</P> + +<P> +All the men were decorated with various orders, and odd ribbons, and +they all wore the same severe expression, with different +countenances. The especially distinguishing feature was the beard. +</P> + +<P> +The stiff American with his horseshoe, the haughty Englishman with +his fan-beard open on his breast, the Spaniard with his black fleece +reaching to the eyes, the Roman with that huge mustache which Italy +copied from Victor Emmanuel, the Austrian with his whiskers and +shaved chin, a Russian general whose lip seemed armed with two +twisted lances, and a Frenchman with a dainty mustache, displayed +the fancies of all the barbers in the world. +</P> + +<P> +"You won't join the game?" asked Servigny. +</P> + +<P> +"No, shall you?" +</P> + +<P> +"Not now. If you are ready to go, we will come back some quieter +day. There are too many people here to-day, and we can't do +anything." +</P> + +<P> +"Well, let us go." +</P> + +<P> +And they disappeared behind a door-curtain into the hall. As soon as +they were in the street Servigny asked: "Well, what do you think of +it?" +</P> + +<P> +"It certainly is interesting, but I fancy the women's side of it +more than the men's." +</P> + +<P> +"Indeed! Those women are the best of the tribe for us. Don't you +find that you breathe the odor of love among them, just as you scent +the perfumes at a hairdresser's?" +</P> + +<P> +"Really such houses are the place for one to go. And what experts, +my dear fellow! What artists! Have you ever eaten bakers' cakes? +They look well, but they amount to nothing. The man who bakes them +only knows how to make bread. Well! the love of a woman in ordinary +society always reminds me of these bake-shop trifles, while the love +you find at houses like the Marquise Obardi's, don't you see, is the +real sweetmeat. Oh! they know how to make cakes, these charming +pastry-cooks. Only you pay five sous, at their shops, for what costs +two sous elsewhere." +</P> + +<P> +"Who is the master of the house just now?" asked Saval. +</P> + +<P> +Servigny shrugged his shoulders, signifying his ignorance. +</P> + +<P> +"I don't know, the latest one known was an English peer, but he left +three months ago. At present she must live off the common herd, or +the gambling, perhaps, and on the gamblers, for she has her +caprices. But tell me, it is understood that we dine with her on +Saturday at Bougival, is it not? People are more free in the +country, and I shall succeed in finding out what ideas Yvette has in +her head!" +</P> + +<P> +"I should like nothing better," replied Saval. "I have nothing to do +that day." +</P> + +<P> +Passing down through the Champs-Elysees, under the steps they +disturbed a couple making love on one of the benches, and Servigny +muttered: "What foolishness and what a serious matter at the same +time! How commonplace and amusing love is, always the same and +always different! And the beggar who gives his sweetheart twenty +sous gets as much return as I would for ten thousand francs from +some Obardi, no younger and no less stupid perhaps than this +nondescript. What nonsense!" +</P> + +<P> +He said nothing for a few minutes; then he began again: "All the +same, it would be good to become Yvette's first lover. Oh! for that +I would give—" +</P> + +<P> +He did not add what he would give, and Saval said good night to him +as they reached the corner of the Rue Royale. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap02"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER II. +</H3> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +Bougival and Love +</H3> + +<P> +They had set the table on the veranda which overlooked the river. +The Printemps villa, leased by the Marquise Obardi, was halfway up +this hill, just at the corner of the Seine, which turned before the +garden wall, flowing toward Marly. +</P> + +<P> +Opposite the residence, the island of Croissy formed a horizon of +tall trees, a mass of verdure, and they could see a long stretch of +the big river as far as the floating cafe of La Grenouillere hidden +beneath the foliage. +</P> + +<P> +The evening fell, one of those calm evenings at the waterside, full +of color yet soft, one of those peaceful evenings which produces a +sensation of pleasure. No breath of air stirred the branches, no +shiver of wind ruffled the smooth clear surface of the Seine. It was +not too warm, it was mild—good weather to live in. The grateful +coolness of the banks of the Seine rose toward a serene sky. +</P> + +<P> +The sun disappeared behind the trees to shine on other lands, and +one seemed to absorb the serenity of the already sleeping earth, to +inhale, in the peace of space, the life of the infinite. +</P> + +<P> +As they left the drawing-room to seat themselves at the table +everyone was joyous. A softened gaiety filled their hearts, they +felt that it would be so delightful to dine there in the country, +with that great river and that twilight for a setting, breathing +that pure and fragrant air. +</P> + +<P> +The Marquise had taken Saval's arm, and Yvette, Servigny's. The four +were alone by themselves. The two women seemed entirely different +persons from what they were at Paris, especially Yvette. She talked +but little, and seemed languid and grave. +</P> + +<P> +Saval, hardly recognizing her in this frame of mind, asked her: +"What is the matter, Mademoiselle? I find you changed since last +week. You have become quite a serious person." +</P> + +<P> +"It is the country that does that for me," she replied. "I am not +the same, I feel queer; besides I am never two days alike. To-day I +have the air of a mad woman, and to-morrow shall be as grave as an +elegy. I change with the weather, I don't know why. You see, I am +capable of anything, according to the moment. There are days when I +would like to kill people,—not animals, I would never kill +animals,—but people, yes, and other days when I weep at a mere +thing. A lot of different ideas pass through my head. It depends, +too, a good deal on how I get up. Every morning, on waking, I can +tell just what I shall be in the evening. Perhaps it is our dreams +that settle it for us, and it depends on the book I have just read." +</P> + +<P> +She was clad in a white flannel suit which delicately enveloped her +in the floating softness of the material. Her bodice, with full +folds, suggested, without displaying and without restraining, her +free chest, which was firm and already ripe. And her superb neck +emerged from a froth of soft lace, bending with gentle movements, +fairer than her gown, a pilaster of flesh, bearing the heavy mass of +her golden hair. +</P> + +<P> +Servigny looked at her for a long time: "You are adorable this +evening, Mam'zelle," said he, "I wish I could always see you like +this." +</P> + +<P> +"Don't make a declaration, Muscade. I should take it seriously, and +that might cost you dear." +</P> + +<P> +The Marquise seemed happy, very happy. All in black, richly dressed +in a plain gown which showed her strong, full lines, a bit of red at +the bodice, a cincture of red carnations falling from her waist like +a chain, and fastened at the hips, and a red rose in her dark hair, +she carried in all her person something fervid,—in that simple +costume, in those flowers which seemed to bleed, in her look, in her +slow speech, in her peculiar gestures. +</P> + +<P> +Saval, too, appeared serious and absorbed. From time to time he +stroked his pointed beard, trimmed in the fashion of Henri III., and +seemed to be meditating on the most profound subjects. +</P> + +<P> +Nobody spoke for several minutes. Then as they were serving the +trout, Servigny remarked: +</P> + +<P> +"Silence is a good thing, at times. People are often nearer to each +other when they are keeping still than when they are talking. Isn't +that so, Marquise?" +</P> + +<P> +She turned a little toward him and answered: +</P> + +<P> +"It is quite true. It is so sweet to think together about agreeable +things." +</P> + +<P> +She raised her warm glance toward Saval, and they continued for some +seconds looking into each other's eyes. A slight, almost inaudible +movement took place beneath the table. +</P> + +<P> +Servigny resumed: "Mam'zelle Yvette, you will make me believe that +you are in love if you keep on being as good as that. Now, with whom +could you be in love? Let us think together, if you will; I put +aside the army of vulgar sighers. I'll only take the principal ones. +Is it Prince Kravalow?" +</P> + +<P> +At this name Yvette awoke: "My poor Muscade, can you think of such a +thing? Why, the Prince has the air of a Russian in a wax-figure +museum, who has won medals in a hairdressing competition." +</P> + +<P> +"Good! We'll drop the Prince. But you have noticed the Viscount +Pierre de Belvigne?" +</P> + +<P> +This time she began to laugh, and asked: "Can you imagine me hanging +to the neck of 'Raisine'?" She nicknamed him according to the day, +Raisine, Malvoisie, [Footnote: Preserved grapes and pears, malmsey,—a +poor wine.] Argenteuil, for she gave everybody nicknames. And she +would murmur to his face: "My dear little Pierre," or "My divine +Pedro, darling Pierrot, give your bow-wow's head to your dear little +girl, who wants to kiss it." +</P> + +<P> +"Scratch out number two. There still remains the Chevalier Valreali +whom the Marquise seems to favor," continued Servigny. +</P> + +<P> +Yvette regained all her gaiety: "'Teardrop'? Why he weeps like a +Magdalene. He goes to all the first-class funerals. I imagine myself +dead every time he looks at me." +</P> + +<P> +"That settles the third. So the lightning will strike Baron Saval, +here." +</P> + +<P> +"Monsieur the Colossus of Rhodes, Junior? No. He is too strong. It +would seem to me as if I were in love with the triumphal arch of +L'Etoile." +</P> + +<P> +"Then Mam'zelle, it is beyond doubt that you are in love with me, +for I am the only one of your adorers of whom we have not yet +spoken. I left myself for the last through modesty and through +discretion. It remains for me to thank you." +</P> + +<P> +She replied with happy grace: "In love with you, Muscade? Ah! no. I +like you, but I don't love you. Wait—I—I don't want to discourage +you. I don't love you—yet. You have a chance—perhaps. Persevere, +Muscade, be devoted, ardent, submissive, full of little attentions +and considerations, docile to my slightest caprices, ready for +anything to please me, and we shall see—later." +</P> + +<P> +"But, Mam'zelle, I would rather furnish all you demand afterward +than beforehand, if it be the same to you." +</P> + +<P> +She asked with an artless air: "After what, Muscade?" +</P> + +<P> +"After you have shown me that you love me, by Jove!" +</P> + +<P> +"Well, act as if I loved you, and believe it, if you wish." +</P> + +<P> +"But you—" +</P> + +<P> +"Be quiet, Muscade; enough on the subject." +</P> + +<P> +The sun had sunk behind the island, but the whole sky still flamed +like a fire, and the peaceful water of the river seemed changed to +blood. The reflections from the horizon reddened houses, objects, +and persons. The scarlet rose in the Marquise's hair had the +appearance of a splash of purple fallen from the clouds upon her +head. +</P> + +<P> +As Yvette looked on from her end, the Marquise rested, as if by +carelessness, her bare hand upon Saval's hand; but the young girl +made a motion and the Marquise withdrew her hand with a quick +gesture, pretending to readjust something in the folds of her +corsage. +</P> + +<P> +Servigny, who was looking at them, said: +</P> + +<P> +"If you like, Mam'zelle, we will take a walk on the island after +dinner." +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, yes! That will be delightful. We will go all alone, won't we, +Muscade?" +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, all alone, Mam'zelle!" +</P> + +<P> +The vast silence of the horizon, the sleepy tranquillity of the +evening captured heart, body, and voice. There are peaceful, chosen +hours when it becomes almost impossible to talk. +</P> + +<P> +The servants waited on them noiselessly. The firmamental +conflagration faded away, and the soft night spread its shadows over +the earth. +</P> + +<P> +"Are you going to stay long in this place?" asked Saval. +</P> + +<P> +And the Marquise answered, dwelling on each word: "Yes, as long as I +am happy." +</P> + +<P> +As it was too dark to see, lamps were brought. They cast upon the +table a strange, pale gleam beneath the great obscurity of space; +and very soon a shower of gnats fell upon the tablecloth—the tiny +gnats which immolate themselves by passing over the glass chimneys, +and, with wings and legs scorched, powder the table linen, dishes, +and cups with a kind of gray and hopping dust. +</P> + +<P> +They swallowed them in the wine, they ate them in the sauces, they +saw them moving on the bread, and had their faces and hands tickled +by the countless swarm of these tiny insects. They were continually +compelled to throw away the beverages, to cover the plates, and +while eating to shield the food with infinite precautions. +</P> + +<P> +It amused Yvette. Servigny took care to shelter what she bore to her +mouth, to guard her glass, to hold his handkerchief stretched out +over her head like a roof. But the Marquise, disgusted, became +nervous, and the end of the dinner came quickly. Yvette, who had not +forgotten Servigny's proposition, said to him: +</P> + +<P> +"Now we'll go to the island." +</P> + +<P> +Her mother cautioned her in a languid tone: "Don't be late, above +all things. We will escort you to the ferry." +</P> + +<P> +And they started in couples, the young girl and her admirer walking +in front, on the road to the shore. They heard, behind them, the +Marquise and Saval speaking very rapidly in low tones. All was dark, +with a thick, inky darkness. But the sky swarmed with grains of +fire, and seemed to sow them in the river, for the black water was +flecked with stars. +</P> + +<P> +The frogs were croaking monotonously upon the bank, and numerous +nightingales were uttering their low, sweet song in the calm and +peaceful air. +</P> + +<P> +Yvette suddenly said: "Gracious! They are not walking behind us any +more, where are they?" And she called out: "Mamma!" No voice +replied. The young girl resumed: "At any rate, they can't be far +away, for I heard them just now." +</P> + +<P> +Servigny murmured: "They must have gone back. Your mother was cold, +perhaps." And he drew her along. +</P> + +<P> +Before them a light gleamed. It was the tavern of Martinet, +restaurant-keeper and fisherman. At their call a man came out of the +house, and they got into a large boat which was moored among the +weeds of the shore. +</P> + +<P> +The ferryman took his oars, and the unwieldy barge, as it advanced, +disturbed the sleeping stars upon the water and set them into a mad +dance, which gradually calmed down after they had passed. They +touched the other shore and disembarked beneath the great trees. A +cool freshness of damp earth permeated the air under the lofty and +clustered branches, where there seemed to be as many nightingales as +there were leaves. A distant piano began to play a popular waltz. +</P> + +<P> +Servigny took Yvette's arm and very gently slipped his hand around +her waist and gave her a slight hug. +</P> + +<P> +"What are you thinking about?" he said. +</P> + +<P> +"I? About nothing at all. I am very happy!" +</P> + +<P> +"Then you don't love me?" +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, yes, Muscade, I love you, I love you a great deal; only leave +me alone. It is too beautiful here to listen to your nonsense." +</P> + +<P> +He drew her toward him, although she tried, by little pushes, to +extricate herself, and through her soft flannel gown he felt the +warmth of her flesh. He stammered: +</P> + +<P> +"Yvette!" +</P> + +<P> +"Well, what?" +</P> + +<P> +"I do love you!" +</P> + +<P> +"But you are not in earnest, Muscade." +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, yes I am. I have loved you for a long time." +</P> + +<P> +She continually kept trying to separate herself from him, trying to +release the arm crushed between their bodies. They walked with +difficulty, trammeled by this bond and by these movements, and went +zigzagging along like drunken folk. +</P> + +<P> +He knew not what to say to her, feeling that he could not talk to a +young girl as he would to a woman. He was perplexed, thinking what +he ought to do, wondering if she consented or did not understand, +and curbing his spirit to find just the right, tender, and decisive +words. He kept saying every second: +</P> + +<P> +"Yvette! Speak! Yvette!" +</P> + +<P> +Then, suddenly, risking all, he kissed her on the cheek. She gave a +little start aside, and said with a vexed air: +</P> + +<P> +"Oh! you are absurd. Are you going to let me alone?" +</P> + +<P> +The tone of her voice did not at all reveal her thoughts nor her +wishes; and, not seeing her too angry, he applied his lips to the +beginning of her neck, just beneath the golden hair, that charming +spot which he had so often coveted. +</P> + +<P> +Then she made great efforts to free herself. But he held her +strongly, and placing his other hand on her shoulder, he compelled +her to turn her head toward him and gave her a fond, passionate +kiss, squarely on the mouth. +</P> + +<P> +She slipped from his arms by a quick undulation of the body, and, +free from his grasp, she disappeared into the darkness with a great +swishing of skirts, like the whir of a bird as it flies away. +</P> + +<P> +He stood motionless a moment, surprised by her suppleness and her +disappearance, then hearing nothing, he called gently: "Yvette!" +</P> + +<P> +She did not reply. He began to walk forward, peering through the +shadows, looking in the underbrush for the white spot her dress +should make. All was dark. He cried out more loudly: +</P> + +<P> +"Mam'zelle Yvette! Mam'zelle Yvette!" +</P> + +<P> +Nothing stirred. He stopped and listened. The whole island was +still; there was scarcely a rustle of leaves over his head. The +frogs alone continued their deep croakings on the shores. Then he +wandered from thicket to thicket, going where the banks were steep +and bushy and returning to places where they were flat and bare as a +dead man's arm. He proceeded until he was opposite Bougival and +reached the establishment of La Grenouillere, groping the clumps of +trees, calling out continually: +</P> + +<P> +"Mam'zelle Yvette, where are you? Answer. It is ridiculous! Come, +answer! Don't keep me hunting like this." +</P> + +<P> +A distant clock began to strike. He counted the hours: twelve. He +had been searching through the island for two hours. Then he thought +that perhaps she had gone home; and he went back very anxiously, +this time by way of the bridge. A servant dozing on a chair was +waiting in the hall. +</P> + +<P> +Servigny awakened him and asked: "Is it long since Mademoiselle +Yvette came home? I left her at the foot of the place because I had +a call to make." +</P> + +<P> +And the valet replied: "Oh! yes, Monsieur, Mademoiselle came in +before ten o'clock." +</P> + +<P> +He proceeded to his room and went to bed. But he could not close his +eyes. That stolen kiss had stirred him to the soul. He kept +wondering what she thought and what she knew. How pretty and +attractive she was! +</P> + +<P> +His desires, somewhat wearied by the life he led, by all his +procession of sweethearts, by all his explorations in the kingdom of +love, awoke before this singular child, so fresh, irritating, and +inexplicable. He heard one o'clock strike, then two. He could not +sleep at all. He was warm, he felt his heart beat and his temples +throb, and he rose to open the window. A breath of fresh air came +in, which he inhaled deeply. The thick darkness was silent, black, +motionless. But suddenly he perceived before him, in the shadows of +the garden, a shining point; it seemed a little red coal. +</P> + +<P> +"Well, a cigar!" he said to himself. "It must be Saval," and he +called softly: "Leon!" +</P> + +<P> +"Is it you, Jean?" +</P> + +<P> +"Yes. Wait. I'll come down." He dressed, went out, and rejoining his +friend who was smoking astride an iron chair, inquired: "What are +you doing here at this hour?" +</P> + +<P> +"I am resting," Saval replied. And he began to laugh. Servigny +pressed his hand: "My compliments, my dear fellow. And as for me, +I—am making a fool of myself." +</P> + +<P> +"You mean—" +</P> + +<P> +"I mean that—Yvette and her mother do not resemble each other." +</P> + +<P> +"What has happened? Tell me." +</P> + +<P> +Servigny recounted his attempts and their failure. Then he resumed: +</P> + +<P> +"Decidedly, that little girl worries me. Fancy my not being able to +sleep! What a queer thing a girl is! She appears to be as simple as +anything, and yet you know nothing about her. A woman who has lived +and loved, who knows life, can be quickly understood. But when it +comes to a young virgin, on the contrary, no one can guess anything +about her. At heart I begin to think that she is making sport of +me." +</P> + +<P> +Saval tilted his chair. He said, very slowly: "Take care, my dear +fellow, she will lead you to marriage. Remember those other +illustrious examples. It was just by this same process that +Mademoiselle de Montijo, who was at least of good family, became +empress. Don't play Napoleon." +</P> + +<P> +Servigny murmured: "As for that, fear nothing. I am neither a +simpleton nor an emperor. A man must be either one or the other to +make such a move as that. But tell me, are you sleepy?" +</P> + +<P> +"Not a bit." +</P> + +<P> +"Will you take a walk along the river?" +</P> + +<P> +"Gladly." +</P> + +<P> +They opened the iron gate and began to walk along the river bank +toward Marly. It was the quiet hour which precedes dawn, the hour of +deep sleep, of complete rest, of profound peacefulness. Even the +gentle sounds of the night were hushed. The nightingales sang no +longer; the frogs had finished their hubbub; some kind of an animal +only, probably a bird, was making somewhere a kind of sawing sound, +feeble, monotonous, and regular as a machine. Servigny, who had +moments of poetry, and of philosophy too, suddenly remarked: "Now +this girl completely puzzles me. In arithmetic, one and one make +two. In love one and one ought to make one but they make two just +the same. Have you ever felt that? That need of absorbing a woman in +yourself or disappearing in her? I am not speaking of the animal +embrace, but of that moral and mental eagerness to be but one with a +being, to open to her all one's heart and soul, and to fathom her +thoughts to the depths." +</P> + +<P> +"And yet you can never lay bare all the fluctuations of her wishes, +desires, and opinions. You can never guess, even slightly, all the +unknown currents, all the mystery of a soul that seems so near, a +soul hidden behind two eyes that look at you, clear as water, +transparent as if there were nothing beneath a soul which talks to +you by a beloved mouth, which seems your very own, so greatly do you +desire it; a soul which throws you by words its thoughts, one by +one, and which, nevertheless, remains further away from you than +those stars are from each other, and more impenetrable. Isn't it +queer, all that?" +</P> + +<P> +"I don't, ask so much," Saval rejoined. "I don't look behind the +eyes. I care little for the contents, but much for the vessel." And +Servigny replied: "What a singular person Yvette is! How will she +receive me this morning?" +</P> + +<P> +As they reached the works at Marly they perceived that the sky was +brightening. The cocks began to crow in the poultry-yards. A bird +twittered in a park at the left, ceaselessly reiterating a tender +little theme. +</P> + +<P> +"It is time to go back," said Saval. +</P> + +<P> +They returned, and as Servigny entered his room, he saw the horizon +all pink through his open windows. +</P> + +<P> +Then he shut the blinds, drew the thick, heavy curtains, went back +to bed and fell asleep. He dreamed of Yvette all through his +slumber. An odd noise awoke him. He sat on the side of the bed and +listened, but heard nothing further. Then suddenly there was a +crackling against the blinds, like falling hail. He jumped from the +bed, ran to the window, opened it, and saw Yvette standing in the +path and throwing handfuls of gravel at his face. She was clad in +pink, with a wide-brimmed straw hat ornamented with a mousquetaire +plume, and was laughing mischievously. +</P> + +<P> +"Well! Muscade, are you asleep? What could you have been doing all +night to make you wake so late? Have you been seeking adventures, my +poor Muscade?" +</P> + +<P> +He was dazzled by the bright daylight striking him full in the eyes, +still overwhelmed with fatigue, and surprised at the jesting +tranquillity of the young girl. +</P> + +<P> +"I'll be down in a second, Mam'zelle," he answered. "Just time to +splash my face with water, and I will join you." +</P> + +<P> +"Hurry," she cried, "it is ten o'clock, and besides I have a great plan +to unfold to you, a plot we are going to concoct. You know that we +breakfast at eleven." +</P> + +<P> +He found her seated on a bench, with a book in her lap, some novel +or other. She took his arm in a familiar and friendly way, with a +frank and gay manner, as if nothing had happened the night before, +and drew him toward the end of the garden. +</P> + +<P> +"This is my plan," she said. "We will disobey mamma, and you shall +take me presently to La Grenouillere restaurant. I want to see it. +Mamma says that decent women cannot go to the place. Now it is all +the same to me whether persons can go there or cannot. You'll take +me, won't you, Muscade? And we will have a great time—with the +boatmen." +</P> + +<P> +She exhaled a delicious fragrance, although he could not exactly +define just what light and vague odor enveloped her. It was not one +of those heavy perfumes of her mother, but a discreet breath in +which he fancied he could detect a suspicion of iris powder, and +perhaps a suggestion of vervain. +</P> + +<P> +Whence emanated that indiscernible perfume? From her dress, her +hair, or her skin? He puzzled over this, and as he was speaking very +close to her, he received full in the face her fresh breath, which +seemed to him just as delicious to inhale. +</P> + +<P> +Then he thought that this evasive perfume which he was trying to +recognize was perhaps only evoked by her charming eyes, and was +merely a sort of deceptive emanation of her young and alluring +grace. +</P> + +<P> +"That is agreed, isn't it, Muscade? As it will be very warm after +breakfast, mamma will not go out. She always feels the heat very +much. We will leave her with your friend, and you shall take me. +They will think that we have gone into the forest. If you knew how +much it will amuse me to see La Grenouillere!" +</P> + +<P> +They reached the iron gate opposite the Seine. A flood of sunshine +fell upon the slumberous, shining river. A slight heat-mist rose +from it, a sort of haze of evaporated water, which spread over the +surface of the stream a faint gleaming vapor. +</P> + +<P> +From time to time, boats passed by, a quick yawl or a heavy passage +boat, and short or long whistles could be heard, those of the trains +which every Sunday poured the citizens of Paris into the suburbs, +and those of the steamboats signaling their approach to pass the +locks at Marly. +</P> + +<P> +But a tiny bell sounded. Breakfast was announced, and they went back +into the house. The repast was a silent one. A heavy July noon +overwhelmed the earth, and oppressed humanity. The heat seemed +thick, and paralyzed both mind and body. The sluggish words would +not leave the lips, and all motion seemed laborious, as if the air +had become a resisting medium, difficult to traverse. Only Yvette, +although silent, seemed animated and nervous with impatience. As +soon as they had finished the last course she said: +</P> + +<P> +"If we were to go for a walk in the forest, it would be deliciously +cool under the trees." +</P> + +<P> +The Marquise murmured with a listless air: "Are you mad? Does anyone +go out in such weather?" +</P> + +<P> +And the young girl, delighted, rejoined: "Oh, well! We will leave +the Baron to keep you company. Muscade and I will climb the hill and +sit on the grass and read." +</P> + +<P> +And turning toward Servigny she asked: "That is understood?" +</P> + +<P> +"At your service, Mam'zelle," he replied. +</P> + +<P> +Yvette ran to get her hat. The Marquise shrugged her shoulders with +a sigh. "She certainly is mad." she said. +</P> + +<P> +Then with an indolence in her amorous and lazy gestures, she gave +her pretty white hand to the Baron, who kissed it softly. Yvette and +Servigny started. They went along the river, crossed the bridge and +went on to the island, and then seated themselves on the bank, +beneath the willows, for it was too soon to go to La Grenouillere. +</P> + +<P> +The young girl at once drew a book from her pocket and smilingly +said: "Muscade, you are going to read to me." And she handed him the +volume. +</P> + +<P> +He made a motion as if of fright. "I, Mam'zelle? I don't know how to +read!" +</P> + +<P> +She replied with gravity: "Come, no excuses, no objections; you are +a fine suitor, you! All for nothing, is that it? Is that your +motto?" +</P> + +<P> +He took the book, opened it, and was astonished. It was a treatise +on entomology. A history of ants by an English author. And as he +remained inert, believing that he was making sport of her, she said +with impatience: "Well, read!" +</P> + +<P> +"Is it a wager, or just a simple fad?" he asked. +</P> + +<P> +"No, my dear. I saw that book in a shop. They told me that it was +the best authority on ants and I thought that it would be +interesting to learn about the life of these little insects while +you see them running over the grass; so read, if you please." +</P> + +<P> +She stretched herself flat upon the grass, her elbows resting upon +the ground, her head between her hands, her eyes fixed upon the +ground. He began to read as follows: +</P> + +<P> +"The anthropoid apes are undoubtedly the animals which approach +nearest to man by their anatomical structure, but if we consider the +habits of the ants, their organization into societies, their vast +communities, the houses and roads that they construct, their custom +of domesticating animals, and sometimes even of making slaves of +them, we are compelled to admit that they have the right to claim a +place near to man in the scale of intelligence." +</P> + +<P> +He continued in a monotonous voice, stopping from time to time to +ask: "Isn't that enough?" +</P> + +<P> +She shook her head, and having caught an ant on the end of a severed +blade of grass, she amused herself by making it go from one end to +the other of the sprig, which she tipped up whenever the insect +reached one of the ends. She listened with mute and contented +attention to all the wonderful details of the life of these frail +creatures: their subterranean homes; the manner in which they seize, +shut up, and feed plant-lice to drink the sweet milk which they +secrete, as we keep cows in our barns; their custom of domesticating +little blind insects which clean the anthills, and of going to war +to capture slaves who will take care of their victors with such +tender solicitude that the latter even lose the habit of feeding +themselves. +</P> + +<P> +And little by little, as if a maternal tenderness had sprung up in +her heart for the poor insect which was so tiny and so intelligent, +Yvette made it climb on her finger, looking at it with a moved +expression, almost wanting to embrace it. +</P> + +<P> +And as Servigny read of the way in which they live in communities, +and play games of strength and skill among themselves, the young +girl grew enthusiastic and sought to kiss the insect which escaped +her and began to crawl over her face. Then she uttered a piercing +cry, as if she had been threatened by a terrible danger, and with +frantic gestures tried to brush it off her face. With a loud laugh +Servigny caught it near her tresses and imprinted on the spot where +he had seized it a long kiss without Yvette withdrawing her +forehead. +</P> + +<P> +Then she exclaimed as she rose: "That is better than a novel. Now +let us go to La Grenouillere." +</P> + +<P> +They reached that part of the island which is set out as a park and +shaded with great trees. Couples were strolling beneath the lofty +foliage along the Seine, where the boats were gliding by. +</P> + +<P> +The boats were filled with young people, working-girls and their +sweethearts, the latter in their shirt-sleeves, with coats on their +arms, tall hats tipped back, and a jaded look. There were tradesmen +with their families, the women dressed in their best and the +children flocking like little chicks about their parents. A distant, +continuous sound of voices, a heavy, scolding clamor announced the +proximity of the establishment so dear to the boatmen. +</P> + +<P> +Suddenly they saw it. It was a huge boat, roofed over, moored to the +bank. On board were many men and women drinking at tables, or else +standing up, shouting, singing, bandying words, dancing, capering, +to the sound of a piano which was groaning—out of tune and rattling +as an old kettle. +</P> + +<P> +Two tall, russet-haired, half-tipsy girls, with red lips, were +talking coarsely. Others were dancing madly with young fellows half +clad, dressed like jockeys, in linen trousers and colored caps. The +odors of a crowd and of rice-powder were noticeable. +</P> + +<P> +The drinkers around the tables were swallowing white, red, yellow, +and green liquids, and vociferating at the top of their lungs, +feeling as it were, the necessity of making a noise, a brutal need +of having their ears and brains filled with uproar. Now and then a +swimmer, standing on the roof, dived into the water, splashing the +nearest guests, who yelled like savages. +</P> + +<P> +On the stream passed the flotillas of light craft, long, slender +wherries, swiftly rowed by bare-armed oarsmen, whose muscles played +beneath their bronzed skin. The women in the boats, in blue or red +flannel skirts, with umbrellas, red or blue, opened over their heads +and gleaming under the burning sun, leaned back in their chairs at +the stern of the boats, and seemed almost to float upon the water, +in motionless and slumberous pose. +</P> + +<P> +The heavier boats proceeded slowly, crowded with people. A +collegian, wanting to show off, rowed like a windmill against all +the other boats, bringing the curses of their oarsmen down upon his +head, and disappearing in dismay after almost drowning two swimmers, +followed by the shouts of the crowd thronging in the great floating +cafe. +</P> + +<P> +Yvette, radiantly happy, taking Servigny's arm, went into the midst +of this noisy mob. She seemed to enjoy the crowding, and stared at +the girls with a calm and gracious glance. +</P> + +<P> +"Look at that one, Muscade," she said. "What pretty hair she has! +They seem to be having such fun!" +</P> + +<P> +As the pianist, a boatman dressed in red with a huge straw hat, +began a waltz, Yvette grasped her companion and they danced so long +and madly that everybody looked at them. The guests, standing on the +tables, kept time with their feet; others threw glasses, and the +musician, seeming to go mad, struck the ivory keys with great bangs; +swaying his whole body and swinging his head covered with that +immense hat. Suddenly he stopped and, slipping to the deck, lay +flat, beneath his head-gear, as if dead with fatigue. A loud laugh +arose and everybody applauded. +</P> + +<P> +Four friends rushed forward, as they do in cases of accident, and +lifting up their comrade, they carried him by his four limbs, after +carefully placing his great hat on his stomach. A joker following +them intoned the "De Profundis," and a procession formed and +threaded the paths of the island, guests and strollers and everyone +they met falling into line. +</P> + +<P> +Yvette darted forward, delighted, laughing with her whole heart, +chatting with everybody, stirred by the movement and the noise. The +young men gazed at her, crowded against her, seeming to devour her +with their glances; and Servigny began to fear lest the adventure +should terminate badly. +</P> + +<P> +The procession still kept on its way; hastening its step; for the +four bearers had taken a quick pace, followed by the yelling crowd. +But suddenly, they turned toward the shore, stopped short as they +reached the bank, swung their comrade for a moment, and then, all +four acting together, flung him into the river. +</P> + +<P> +A great shout of joy rang out from all mouths, while the poor +pianist, bewildered, paddled, swore, coughed, and spluttered, and +though sticking in the mud managed to get to the shore. His hat +which floated down the stream was picked up by a boat. Yvette danced +with joy, clapping and repeating: "Oh! Muscade, what fun! what fun!" +</P> + +<P> +Servigny looked on, having become serious, a little disturbed, a +little chilled to see her so much at her ease in this common place. +A sort of instinct revolted in him, that instinct of the proper, +which a well-born man always preserves even when he casts himself +loose, that instinct which avoids too common familiarities and too +degrading contacts. Astonished, he muttered to himself: +</P> + +<P> +"Egad! Then YOU are at home here, are you?" And he wanted to speak +familiarly to her, as a man does to certain women the first time he +meets them. He no longer distinguished her from the russet-haired, +hoarse-voiced creatures who brushed against them. The language of +the crowd was not at all choice, but nobody seemed shocked or +surprised. Yvette did not even appear to notice it. +</P> + +<P> +"Muscade, I want to go in bathing," she said. "We'll go into the +river together." +</P> + +<P> +"At your service," said he. +</P> + +<P> +They went to the bath-office to get bathing-suits. She was ready the +first, and stood on the bank waiting for him, smiling on everyone +who looked at her. Then side by side they went into the luke-warm +water. +</P> + +<P> +She swam with pleasure, with intoxication, caressed by the wave, +throbbing with a sensual delight, raising herself at each stroke as +if she were going to spring from the water. He followed her with +difficulty, breathless, and vexed to feel himself mediocre at the +sport. +</P> + +<P> +But she slackened her pace, and then, turning over suddenly, she +floated, with her arms folded and her eyes wide open to the blue +sky. He observed, thus stretched out on the surface of the river, +the undulating lines of her form, her firm neck and shoulders, her +slightly submerged hips, and bare ankles, gleaming in the water, and +the tiny foot that emerged. +</P> + +<P> +He saw her thus exhibiting herself, as if she were doing it on +purpose, to lure him on, or again to make sport of him. And he began +to long for her with a passionate ardor and an exasperating +impatience. Suddenly she turned, looked at him, and burst into +laughter. +</P> + +<P> +"You have a fine head," she said. +</P> + +<P> +He was annoyed at this bantering, possessed with the anger of a +baffled lover. Then yielding brusquely to a half felt desire for +retaliation, a desire to avenge himself, to wound her, he said: +</P> + +<P> +"Well, does this sort of life suit you?" +</P> + +<P> +She asked with an artless air: "What do you mean?" +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, come, don't make game of me. You know well enough what I mean!" +</P> + +<P> +"No, I don't, on my word of honor." +</P> + +<P> +"Oh, let us stop this comedy! Will you or will you not?" +</P> + +<P> +"I do not understand you." +</P> + +<P> +"You are not as stupid as all that; besides I told you last night." +</P> + +<P> +"Told me what? I have forgotten!" +</P> + +<P> +"That I love you." +</P> + +<P> +"You?" +</P> + +<P> +"Yes." +</P> + +<P> +"What nonsense!" +</P> + +<P> +"I swear it." +</P> + +<P> +"Then prove it." +</P> + +<P> +"That is all I ask." +</P> + +<P> +"What is?" +</P> + +<P> +"To prove it." +</P> + +<P> +"Well, do so." +</P> + +<P> +"But you did not say so last night." +</P> + +<P> +"You did not ask anything." +</P> + +<P> +"What absurdity!" +</P> + +<P> +"And besides it is not to me to whom you should make your +proposition." +</P> + +<P> +"To whom, then?" +</P> + +<P> +"Why, to mamma, of course." +</P> + +<P> +He burst into laughter. "To your mother. No, that is too much!" +</P> + +<P> +She had suddenly become very grave, and looking him straight in the +eyes, said: +</P> + +<P> +"Listen, Muscade, if you really love me enough to marry me, speak to +mamma first, and I will answer you afterward." +</P> + +<P> +He thought she was still making sport of him, and angrily replied: +"Mam'zelle, you must be taking me for somebody else." +</P> + +<P> +She kept looking at him with her soft, clear eyes. She hesitated and +then said: +</P> + +<P> +"I don't understand you at all." +</P> + +<P> +Then he answered quickly with somewhat of ill nature in his voice: +</P> + +<P> +"Come now, Yvette, let us cease this absurd comedy, which has +already lasted too long. You are playing the part of a simple little +girl, and the role does not fit you at all, believe me. You know +perfectly well that there can be no question of marriage between us, +but merely of love. I have told you that I love you. It is the +truth. I repeat, I love you. Don't pretend any longer not to +understand me, and don't treat me as if I were a fool." +</P> + +<P> +They were face to face, treading water, merely moving their hands a +little, to steady themselves. She was still for a moment, as if she +could not make out the meaning of his words, then she suddenly +blushed up to the roots of her hair. Her whole face grew purple from +her neck to her ears, which became almost violet, and without +answering a word she fled toward the shore, swimming with all her +strength with hasty strokes. He could not keep up with her and +panted with fatigue as he followed. He saw her leave the water, pick +up her cloak, and go to her dressing-room without looking back. +</P> + +<P> +It took him a long time to dress, very much perplexed as to what he +ought to do, puzzled over what he should say to her, and wondering +whether he ought to excuse himself or persevere. When he was ready, +she had gone away all alone. He went back slowly, anxious and +disturbed. +</P> + +<P> +The Marquise was strolling, on Saval's arm, in the circular path +around the lawn. As she observed Servigny, she said, with that +careless air which she had maintained since the night before. +</P> + +<P> +"I told you not to go out in such hot weather. And now Yvette has +come back almost with a sun stroke. She has gone to lie down. She +was as red as a poppy, the poor child, and she has a frightful +headache. You must have been walking in the full sunlight, or you +must have done something foolish. You are as unreasonable as she." +</P> + +<P> +The young girl did not come down to dinner. When they wanted to send +her up something to eat she called through the door that she was not +hungry, for she had shut herself in, and she begged that they would +leave her undisturbed. The two young men left by the ten o'clock +train, promising to return the following Thursday, and the Marquise +seated herself at the open window to dream, hearing in the distance +the orchestra of the boatmen's ball, with its sprightly music, in +the deep and solemn silence of the night. +</P> + +<P> +Swayed by love as a person is moved by a fondness for horses or +boating, she was subject to sudden tendernesses which crept over her +like a disease. These passions took possession of her suddenly, +penetrated her entire being, maddened her, enervated or overwhelmed +her, in measure as they were of an exalted, violent, dramatic, or +sentimental character. +</P> + +<P> +She was one of those women who are created to love and to be loved. +Starting from a very low station in life, she had risen in her +adventurous career, acting instinctively, with inborn cleverness, +accepting money and kisses, naturally, without distinguishing +between them, employing her extraordinary ability in an unthinking +and simple fashion. From all her experiences she had never known +either a genuine tenderness or a great repulsion. +</P> + +<P> +She had had various friends, for she had to live, as in traveling a +person eats at many tables. But occasionally her heart took fire, +and she really fell in love, which state lasted for some weeks or +months, according to conditions. These were the delicious moments of +her life, for she loved with all her soul. She cast herself upon +love as a person throws himself into the river to drown himself, and +let herself be carried away, ready to die, if need be, intoxicated, +maddened, infinitely happy. She imagined each time that she never +had experienced anything like such an attachment, and she would have +been greatly astonished if some one had told her of how many men she +had dreamed whole nights through, looking at the stars. +</P> + +<P> +Saval had captivated her, body and soul. She dreamed of him, lulled +by his face and his memory, in the calm exaltation of consummated +love, of present and certain happiness. +</P> + +<P> +A sound behind her made her turn around. Yvette had just entered, +still in her daytime dress, but pale, with eyes glittering, as +sometimes is the case after some great fatigue. She leaned on the +sill of the open window, facing her mother. +</P> + +<P> +"I want to speak to you," she said. +</P> + +<P> +The Marquise looked at her in astonishment. She loved her like an +egotistical mother, proud of her beauty, as a person is proud of a +fortune, too pretty still herself to become jealous, too indifferent +to plan the schemes with which they charged her, too clever, +nevertheless, not to have full consciousness of her daughter's +value. +</P> + +<P> +"I am listening, my child," she said; "what is it?" +</P> + +<P> +Yvette gave her a piercing look, as if to read the depths of her +soul and to seize all the sensations which her words might awake. +</P> + +<P> +"It is this. Something strange has just happened." +</P> + +<P> +"What can it be?" +</P> + +<P> +"Monsieur de Servigny has told me that he loves me." +</P> + +<P> +The Marquise, disturbed, waited a moment, and, as Yvette said +nothing more, she asked: +</P> + +<P> +"How did he tell you that? Explain yourself!" +</P> + +<P> +Then the young girl, sitting at her mother's feet, in a coaxing +attitude common with her, and clasping her hands, added: +</P> + +<P> +"He asked me to marry him." +</P> + +<P> +Madame Obardi made a sudden gesture of stupefaction and cried: +</P> + +<P> +"Servigny! Why! you are crazy!" +</P> + +<P> +Yvette had not taken her eyes off her mother's face, watching her +thoughts and her surprise. She asked with a serious voice: +</P> + +<P> +"Why am I crazy? Why should not Monsieur de Servigny marry me?" +</P> + +<P> +The Marquise, embarrassed, stammered: +</P> + +<P> +"You are mistaken, it is not possible. You either did not hear or +did not understand. Monsieur de Servigny is too rich for you, and +too much of a Parisian to marry." Yvette rose softly. She added: +"But if he loves me as he says he does, mamma?" +</P> + +<P> +Her mother replied, with some impatience: "I thought you big enough +and wise enough not to have such ideas. Servigny is a man-about-town +and an egotist. He will never marry anyone but a woman of his set +and his fortune. If he asked you in marriage, it is only that he +wants—" +</P> + +<P> +The Marquise, incapable of expressing her meaning, was silent for a +moment, then continued: "Come now, leave me alone and go to bed." +</P> + +<P> +And the young girl, as if she had learned what she sought to find +out, answered in a docile voice: "Yes, mamma!" +</P> + +<P> +She kissed her mother on the forehead and withdrew with a calm step. +As she reached the door, the Marquise called out: "And your +sunstroke?" she said. +</P> + +<P> +"I did not have one at all. It was that which caused everything." +</P> + +<P> +The Marquise added: "We will not speak of it again. Only don't stay +alone with him for some time from now, and be very sure that he will +never marry you, do you understand, and that he merely means +to—compromise you." +</P> + +<P> +She could not find better words to express her thought. Yvette went +to her room. Madame Obardi began to dream. Living for years in an +opulent and loving repose, she had carefully put aside all +reflections which might annoy or sadden her. Never had she been +willing to ask herself the question.—What would become of Yvette? +It would be soon enough to think about the difficulties when they +arrived. She well knew, from her experience, that her daughter could +not marry a man who was rich and of good society, excepting by a +totally improbable chance, by one of those surprises of love which +place adventuresses on thrones. +</P> + +<P> +She had not considered it, furthermore, being too much occupied with +herself to make any plans which did not directly concern herself. +</P> + +<P> +Yvette would do as her mother, undoubtedly. She would lead a gay +life. Why not? But the Marquise had never dared ask when, or how. +That would all come about in time. +</P> + +<P> +And now her daughter, all of a sudden, without warning, had asked +one of those questions which could not be answered, forcing her to +take an attitude in an affair, so delicate, so dangerous in every +respect, and so disturbing to the conscience which a woman is +expected to show in matters concerning her daughter. +</P> + +<P> +Sometimes nodding but never asleep, she had too much natural +astuteness to be deceived a minute about Servigny's intentions, for +she knew men by experience, and especially men of that set. So at +the first words uttered by Yvette, she had cried almost in spite of +herself: "Servigny, marry you? You are crazy!" +</P> + +<P> +How had he come to employ that old method, he, that sharp man of the +world? What would he do now? And she, the young girl, how should she +warn her more clearly and even forbid her, for she might make great +mistakes. Would anyone have believed that this big girl had remained +so artless, so ill informed, so guileless? And the Marquise, greatly +perplexed and already wearied with her reflections, endeavored to +make up her mind what to do without finding a solution of the +problem, for the situation seemed to her very embarrassing. Worn out +with this worry, she thought: +</P> + +<P> +"I will watch them more clearly, I will act according to +circumstances. If necessary, I will speak to Servigny, who is sharp +and will take a hint." +</P> + +<P> +She did not think out what she should say to him, nor what he would +answer, nor what sort of an understanding could be established +between them, but happy at being relieved of this care without +having had to make a decision, she resumed her dreams of the +handsome Saval, and turning toward that misty light which hovers +over Paris, she threw kisses with both hands toward the great city, +rapid kisses which she tossed into the darkness, one after the +other, without counting; and, very low, as if she were talking to +Saval still, she murmured: +</P> + +<P> +"I love you, I love you!" +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap03"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER III. +</H3> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +ENLIGHTENMENT +</H3> + +<P> +Yvette, also, could not sleep. Like her mother, she leaned upon the +sill of the open window, and tears, her first bitter tears, filled +her eyes. Up to this time she had lived, had grown up, in the +heedless and serene confidence of happy youth. Why should she have +dreamed, reflected, puzzled? Why should she not have been a young +girl, like all other young girls? Why should a doubt, a fear, or +painful suspicion have come to her? +</P> + +<P> +She seemed posted on all topics because she had a way of talking on +all subjects, because she had taken the tone, demeanor, and words of +the people who lived around her. But she really knew no more than a +little girl raised in a convent; her audacities of speech came from +her memory, from that unconscious faculty of imitation and +assimilation which women possess, and not from a mind instructed and +emboldened. +</P> + +<P> +She spoke of love as the son of a painter or a musician would, at +the age of ten or twelve years, speak of painting or music. She knew +or rather suspected very well what sort of mystery this word +concealed;—too many jokes had been whispered before her, for her +innocence not to be a trifle enlightened,—but how could she have +drawn the conclusion from all this, that all families did not +resemble hers? +</P> + +<P> +They kissed her mother's hand with the semblance of respect; all +their friends had titles; they all were rich or seemed to be so; +they all spoke familiarly of the princes of the royal line. Two sons +of kings had even come often, in the evening, to the Marquise's +house. How should she have known? +</P> + +<P> +And, then, she was naturally artless. She did not estimate or sum up +people as her mother, did. She lived tranquilly, too joyous in her +life to worry herself about what might appear suspicious to +creatures more calm, thoughtful, reserved, less cordial, and sunny. +</P> + +<P> +But now, all at once, Servigny, by a few words, the brutality of +which she felt without understanding them, awakened in her a sudden +disquietude, unreasoning at first, but which grew into a tormenting +apprehension. She had fled home, had escaped like a wounded animal, +wounded in fact most deeply by those words which she ceaselessly +repeated to get all their sense and bearing: "You know very well +that there can be no question of marriage between us—but only of +love." +</P> + +<P> +What did he mean? And why this insult? Was she then in ignorance of +something, some secret, some shame? She was the only one ignorant of +it, no doubt. But what could she do? She was frightened, startled, +as a person is when he discovers some hidden infamy, some treason of +a beloved friend, one of those heart-disasters which crush. +</P> + +<P> +She dreamed, reflected, puzzled, wept, consumed by fears and +suspicions. Then her joyous young soul reassuring itself, she began +to plan an adventure, to imagine an abnormal and dramatic situation, +founded on the recollections of all the poetical romances she had +read. She recalled all the moving catastrophes, or sad and touching +stories; she jumbled them together, and concocted a story of her own +with which she interpreted the half-understood mystery which +enveloped her life. +</P> + +<P> +She was no longer cast down. She dreamed, she lifted veils, she +imagined unlikely complications, a thousand singular, terrible +things, seductive, nevertheless, by their very strangeness. Could +she be, by chance, the natural daughter of a prince? Had her poor +mother, betrayed and deserted, made Marquise by some king, perhaps +King Victor Emmanuel, been obliged to take flight before the anger +of the family? Was she not rather a child abandoned by its +relations, who were noble and illustrious, the fruit of a +clandestine love, taken in by the Marquise, who had adopted and +brought her up? +</P> + +<P> +Still other suppositions passed through her mind. She accepted or +rejected them according to the dictates of her fancy. She was moved +to pity over her own case, happy at the bottom of her heart, and sad +also, taking a sort of satisfaction in becoming a sort of a heroine +of a book who must: assume a noble attitude, worthy of herself. +</P> + +<P> +She laid out the part she must play, according to events at which +she guessed. She vaguely outlined this role, like one of Scribe's or +of George Sand's. It should be endued with devotion, self-abnegation, +greatness of soul, tenderness; and fine words. Her pliant nature +almost rejoiced in this new attitude. She pondered almost till evening +what she should do, wondering how she should manage to wrest the truth +from the Marquise. +</P> + +<P> +And when night came, favorable to tragic situations, she had thought +out a simple and subtile trick to obtain what she wanted: it was, +brusquely, to say that Servigny had asked for her hand in marriage. +</P> + +<P> +At this news, Madame Obardi, taken by surprise, would certainly let +a word escape her lips, a cry which would throw light into the mind +of her daughter. And Yvette had accomplished her plan. +</P> + +<P> +She expected an explosion of astonishment, an expansion of love, a +confidence full of gestures and tears. But, instead of this, her +mother, without appearing stupefied or grieved, had only seemed +bored; and from the constrained, discontented, and worried tone in +which she had replied, the young girl, in whom there suddenly awaked +all the astuteness, keenness, and sharpness of a woman, +understanding that she must not insist, that the mystery was of +another nature, that it would be painful to her to learn it, and +that she must puzzle it out all alone, had gone back to her room, +her heart oppressed, her soul in distress, possessed now with the +apprehensions of a real misfortune, without knowing exactly either +whence or why this emotion came to her. So she wept, leaning at the +window. +</P> + +<P> +She wept long, not dreaming of anything now, not seeking to discover +anything more, and little by little, weariness overcoming her, she +closed her eyes. She dozed for a few minutes, with that deep sleep +of people who are tired out and have not the energy to undress and +go to bed, that heavy sleep, broken by dreams, when the head nods +upon the breast. +</P> + +<P> +She did not go to bed until the first break of day, when the cold of +the morning, chilling her, compelled her to leave the window. +</P> + +<P> +The next day and the day after, she maintained a reserved and +melancholy attitude. Her thoughts were busy; she was learning to spy +out, to guess at conclusions, to reason. A light, still vague, +seemed to illumine men and things around her in a new manner; she +began to entertain suspicions against all, against everything that +she had believed, against her mother. She imagined all sorts of +things during these two days. She considered all the possibilities, +taking the most extreme resolutions with the suddenness of her +changeable and unrestrained nature. Wednesday she hit upon a plan, +an entire schedule of conduct and a system of spying. She rose +Thursday morning with the resolve to be very sharp and armed against +everybody. +</P> + +<P> +She determined even to take for her motto these two words: "Myself +alone," and she pondered for more than an hour how she should +arrange them to produce a good effect engraved about her crest, on +her writing paper. +</P> + +<P> +Saval and Servigny arrived at ten o'clock. The young girl gave her +hand with reserve, without embarrassment, and in a tone, familiar +though grave, she said: +</P> + +<P> +"Good morning, Muscade, are you well?" "Good morning, Mam'zelle, +fairly, thanks, and you?" He was watching her. "What comedy will she +play me," he said to himself. +</P> + +<P> +The Marquise having taken Saval's arm, he took Yvette's, and they +began to stroll about the lawn, appearing and disappearing every +minute, behind the clumps of trees. +</P> + +<P> +Yvette walked with a thoughtful air, looking at the gravel of the +pathway, appearing hardly to hear what her companion said and +scarcely answering him. +</P> + +<P> +Suddenly she asked: "Are you truly my friend, Muscade?" +</P> + +<P> +"Why, of course, Mam'zelle." +</P> + +<P> +"But truly, truly, now?" +</P> + +<P> +"Absolutely your friend, Mam'zelle, body and soul." +</P> + +<P> +"Even enough of a friend not to lie to me once, just once?" +</P> + +<P> +"Even twice, if necessary." +</P> + +<P> +"Even enough to tell me the absolute, exact truth?" +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, Mam'zelle." +</P> + +<P> +"Well, what do you think, way down in your heart, of the Prince of +Kravalow?" +</P> + +<P> +"Ah, the devil!" +</P> + +<P> +"You see that you are already preparing to lie." +</P> + +<P> +"Not at all, but I am seeking the words, the proper words. Great +Heavens, Prince Kravalow is a Russian, who speaks Russian, who was +born in Russia, who has perhaps had a passport to come to France, +and about whom there is nothing false but his name and title." +</P> + +<P> +She looked him in the eyes: "You mean that he is—?" +</P> + +<P> +"An adventurer, Mam'zelle." +</P> + +<P> +"Thank you, and Chevalier Valreali is no better?" "You have hit it." +</P> + +<P> +"And Monsieur de Belvigne?" +</P> + +<P> +"With him it is a different thing. He is of provincial society, +honorable up to a certain point, but only a little scorched from +having lived too rapidly." +</P> + +<P> +"And you?" +</P> + +<P> +"I am what they call a butterfly, a man of good family, who had +intelligence and who has squandered it in making phrases, who had +good health and who has injured it by dissipation, who had some +worth perhaps and who has scattered it by doing nothing. There is +left to me a certain knowledge of life, a complete absence of +prejudice, a large contempt for mankind, including women, a very +deep sentiment of the uselessness of my acts and a vast tolerance +for the mob." +</P> + +<P> +"Nevertheless, at times, I can be frank, and I am even capable of +affection, as you could see, if you would. With these defects and +qualities I place myself at your orders, Mam'zelle, morally and +physically, to do what you please with me." +</P> + +<P> +She did not laugh; she listened, weighing his words and his +intentions; then she resumed: +</P> + +<P> +"What do you think of the Countess de Lammy?" +</P> + +<P> +He replied, vivaciously: "You will permit me not to give my opinion +about the women." +</P> + +<P> +"About none of them?" +</P> + +<P> +"About none of them." "Then you must have a bad opinion of them all. +Come, think; won't you make a single exception?" +</P> + +<P> +He sneered with that insolent air which he generally wore; and with +that brutal audacity which he used as a weapon, he said: "Present +company is always excepted." +</P> + +<P> +She blushed a little, but calmly asked: "Well, what do you think of +me?" +</P> + +<P> +"You want me to tell. Well, so be it. I think you are a young person +of good sense, and practicalness, or if you prefer, of good +practical sense, who knows very well how to arrange her pastime, to +amuse people, to hide her views, to lay her snares, and who, without +hurrying, awaits events." +</P> + +<P> +"Is that all?" she asked. +</P> + +<P> +"That's all." +</P> + +<P> +Then she said with a serious earnestness: "I shall make you change +that opinion, Muscade." +</P> + +<P> +Then she joined her mother, who was proceeding with short steps, her +head down, with that manner assumed in talking very low, while +walking, of very intimate and very sweet things. As she advanced she +drew shapes in the sand, letters perhaps, with the point of her +sunshade, and she spoke, without looking at Saval, long, softly, +leaning on his arm, pressed against him. +</P> + +<P> +Yvette suddenly fixed her eyes upon her, and a suspicion, rather a +feeling than a doubt, passed through her mind as a shadow of a cloud +driven by the wind passes over the ground. +</P> + +<P> +The bell rang for breakfast. It was silent and almost gloomy. There +was a storm in the air. Great solid clouds rested upon the horizon, +mute and heavy, but charged with a tempest. As soon as they had +taken their coffee on the terrace, the Marquise asked: +</P> + +<P> +"Well, darling, are you going to take a walk today with your friend +Servigny? It is a good time to enjoy the coolness under the trees." +</P> + +<P> +Yvette gave her a quick glance. +</P> + +<P> +"No, mamma, I am not going out to-day." +</P> + +<P> +The Marquise appeared annoyed, and insisted. "Oh, go and take a +stroll, my child, it is excellent for you." +</P> + +<P> +Then Yvette distinctly said: "No, mamma, I shall stay in the house +to-day, and you know very well why, because I told you the other +evening." +</P> + +<P> +Madame Obardi gave it no further thought, preoccupied with the +thought of remaining alone with Saval. She blushed and was annoyed, +disturbed on her own account, not knowing how she could find a free +hour or two. She stammered: +</P> + +<P> +"It is true. I was not thinking of it. I don't know where my head +is." +</P> + +<P> +And Yvette taking up some embroidery, which she called "the public +safety," and at which she worked five or six times a year, on dull +days, seated herself on a low chair near her mother, while the two +young men, astride folding-chairs, smoked their cigars. +</P> + +<P> +The hours passed in a languid conversation. The Marquise fidgety, +cast longing glances at Saval, seeking some pretext, some means, of +getting rid of her daughter. She finally realized that she would not +succeed, and not knowing what ruse to employ, she said to Servigny: +"You know, my dear Duke, that I am going to keep you both this +evening. To-morrow we shall breakfast at the Fournaise restaurant, +at Chaton." +</P> + +<P> +He understood, smiled, and bowed: "I am at your orders, Marquise." +</P> + +<P> +The day wore on slowly and painfully under the threatenings of the +storm. The hour for dinner gradually approached. The heavy sky was +filled with slow and heavy clouds. There was not a breath of air +stirring. The evening meal was silent, too. An oppression, an +embarrassment, a sort of vague fear, seemed to make the two men and +the two women mute. +</P> + +<P> +When the covers were removed, they sat long upon the terrace; only +speaking at long intervals. Night fell, a sultry night. Suddenly the +horizon was torn by an immense flash of lightning, which illumined +with a dazzling and wan light the four faces shrouded in darkness. +Then a far-off sound, heavy and feeble, like the rumbling of a +carriage upon a bridge, passed over the earth; and it seemed that +the heat of the atmosphere increased, that the air suddenly became +more oppressive, and the silence of the evening deeper. +</P> + +<P> +Yvette rose. "I am going to bed," she said, "the storm makes me +ill." +</P> + +<P> +And she offered her brow to the Marquise, gave her hand to the two +young men, and withdrew. +</P> + +<P> +As her room was just above the terrace, the leaves of a great +chestnut-tree growing before the door soon gleamed with a green hue, +and Servigny kept his eyes fixed on this pale light in the foliage, +in which at times he thought he saw a shadow pass. But suddenly the +light went out. Madame Obardi gave a great sigh. +</P> + +<P> +"My daughter has gone to bed," she said. +</P> + +<P> +Servigny rose, saying: "I am going to do as much, Marquise, if you +will permit me." He kissed the hand she held out to him and +disappeared in turn. +</P> + +<P> +She was left alone with Saval, in the night. In a moment she was +clasped in his arms. Then, although he tried to prevent her, she +kneeled before him murmuring: "I want to see you by the lightning +flashes." +</P> + +<P> +But Yvette, her candle snuffed out, had returned to her balcony, +barefoot, gliding like a shadow, and she listened, consumed by an +unhappy and confused suspicion. She could not see, as she was above +them, on the roof of the terrace. +</P> + +<P> +She heard nothing but a murmur of voices, and her heart beat so fast +that she could actually hear its throbbing. A window closed on the +floor above her. Servigny, then, must have just gone up to his room. +Her mother was alone with the other man. +</P> + +<P> +A second flash of lightning, clearing the sky; lighted up for a +second all the landscape she knew so well, with a startling and +sinister gleam, and she saw the great river, with the color of +melted lead, as a river appears in dreams in fantastic scenes. +</P> + +<P> +Just then a voice below her uttered the words: "I love you!" And she +heard nothing more. A strange shudder passed over her body, and her +soul shivered in frightful distress. A heavy, infinite silence, +which seemed eternal, hung over the world. She could no longer +breathe, her breast oppressed by something unknown and horrible. +Another flash of lightning illumined space, lighting up the horizon +for an instant, then another almost immediately came, followed by +still others. And the voice, which she had already heard, repeated +more loudly: "Oh! how I love you! how I love you!" And Yvette +recognized the voice; it was her mother's. +</P> + +<P> +A large drop of warm rain fell upon her brow, and a slight and +almost imperceptible motion ran through the leaves, the quivering of +the rain which was now beginning. Then a noise came from afar, a +confused sound, like that of the wind in the branches: it was the +deluge descending in sheets on earth and river and trees. In a few +minutes the water poured about her, covering her, drenching her like +a shower-bath. She did not move, thinking only of what was happening +on the terrace. +</P> + +<P> +She heard them get up and go to their rooms. Doors were closed +within the house; and the young girl, yielding to an irresistible +desire to learn what was going on, a desire which maddened and +tortured her, glided downstairs, softly opened the outer door, and, +crossing the lawn under the furious downpour, ran and hid in a clump +of trees, to look at the windows. +</P> + +<P> +Only one window was lighted, her mother's. And suddenly two shadows +appeared in the luminous square, two shadows, side by side. Then +distracted, without reflection, without knowing what she was doing, +she screamed with all her might, in a shrill voice: "Mamma!" as a +person would cry out to warn people in danger of death. +</P> + +<P> +Her desperate cry was lost in the noise of the rain, but the couple +separated, disturbed. And one of the shadows disappeared, while the +other tried to discover something, peering through the darkness of +the garden. +</P> + +<P> +Fearing to be surprised, or to meet her mother at that moment, +Yvette rushed back to the house, ran upstairs, dripping wet, and +shut herself in her room, resolved to open her door to no one. +</P> + +<P> +Without taking, off her streaming dress, which clung to her form, +she fell on her knees, with clasped hands, in her distress imploring +some superhuman protection, the mysterious aid of Heaven, the +unknown support which a person seeks in hours of tears and despair. +</P> + +<P> +The great lightning flashes threw for an instant their livid +reflections into her room, and she saw herself in the mirror of her +wardrobe, with her wet and disheveled hair, looking so strange that +she did not recognize herself. She remained there so long that the +storm abated without her perceiving it. The rain ceased, a light +filled the sky, still obscured with clouds, and a mild, balmy, +delicious freshness, a freshness of grass and wet leaves, came in +through the open window. +</P> + +<P> +Yvette rose, took off her wet, cold garments, without thinking what +she was doing, and went to bed. She stared with fixed eyes at the +dawning day. Then she wept again, and then she began to think. +</P> + +<P> +Her mother! A lover! What a shame! She had read so many books in +which women, even mothers, had overstepped the bounds of propriety, +to regain their honor at the pages of the climax, that she was not +astonished beyond measure at finding herself enveloped in a drama +similar to all those of her reading. The violence of her first +grief, the cruel shock of surprise, had already worn off a little, +in the confused remembrance of analogous situations. Her mind had +rambled among such tragic adventures, painted by the novel-writers, +that the horrible discovery seemed, little by little, like the +natural continuation of some serial story, begun the evening before. +</P> + +<P> +She said to herself: "I will save my mother." And almost reassured +by this heroic resolution, she felt herself strengthened, ready at +once for the devotion and the struggle. She reflected on the means +which must be employed. A single one seemed good, which was quite in +keeping with her romantic nature. And she rehearsed the interview +which she should have with the Marquise, as an actor rehearses the +scene which he is going to play. +</P> + +<P> +The sun had risen. The servants were stirring about the house. The +chambermaid came with the chocolate. Yvette put the tray on the +table and said: +</P> + +<P> +"You will say to my mother that I am not well, that I am going to +stay in bed until those gentlemen leave, that I could not sleep last +night, and that I do not want to be disturbed because I am going to +try to rest." +</P> + +<P> +The servant, surprised, looked at the wet dress, which had fallen +like a rag on the carpet. +</P> + +<P> +"So Mademoiselle has been out?" she said. +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, I went out for a walk in the rain to refresh myself." +</P> + +<P> +The maid picked up the skirts, stockings, and wet shoes; then she +went away carrying on her arm, with fastidious precautions, these +garments, soaked as the clothes of a drowned person. And Yvette +waited, well knowing that her mother would come to her. +</P> + +<P> +The Marquise entered, having jumped from her bed at the first words +of the chambermaid, for a suspicion had possessed her, heart since +that cry: "Mamma!" heard in the dark. +</P> + +<P> +"What is the matter?" she said. +</P> + +<P> +Yvette looked at her and stammered: "I—I—" Then overpowered by a +sudden and terrible emotion, she began to choke. +</P> + +<P> +The Marquise, astonished, again asked: "What in the world is the +matter with you?" +</P> + +<P> +Then, forgetting all her plans and prepared phrases, the young girl +hid her face in both hands and stammered: +</P> + +<P> +"Oh! mamma! Oh! mamma!" +</P> + +<P> +Madame Obardi stood by the bed, too much affected thoroughly to +understand, but guessing almost everything, with that subtile +instinct whence she derived her strength. As Yvette could not speak, +choked with tears, her mother, worn out finally and feeling some +fearful explanation coming, brusquely asked: +</P> + +<P> +"Come, will you tell me what the matter is?" +</P> + +<P> +Yvette could hardly utter the words: "Oh! last night—I saw—your +window." +</P> + +<P> +The Marquise, very pale; said: "Well? what of it?" +</P> + +<P> +Her daughter repeated, still sobbing: "Oh! mamma! Oh! mamma!" +</P> + +<P> +Madame Obardi, whose fear and embarrassment turned to anger, +shrugged her shoulders and turned to go. "I really believe that you +are crazy. When this ends, you will let me know." +</P> + +<P> +But the young girl, suddenly took her hands from her face, which was +streaming with tears. +</P> + +<P> +"No, listen, I must speak to you, listen. You must promise me—we +must both go, away, very far off, into the country, and we must live +like the country people; and no one must know what has become of us. +Say you will, mamma; I beg you, I implore you; will you?" +</P> + +<P> +The Marquise, confused, stood in the middle of the room. She had in +her veins the irascible blood of the common people. Then a sense of +shame, a mother's modesty, mingled with a vague sentiment of fear +and the exasperation of a passionate woman whose love is threatened, +and she shuddered, ready to ask for pardon, or to yield to some +violence. +</P> + +<P> +"I don't understand you," she said. +</P> + +<P> +Yvette replied: +</P> + +<P> +"I saw you, mamma, last night. You cannot—if you knew—we will both +go away. I will love you so much that you will forget—" +</P> + +<P> +Madame Obardi said in a trembling voice: "Listen, my daughter, +there are some things which you do not yet understand. Well, don't +forget—don't forget-that I forbid you ever to speak to me about +those things." +</P> + +<P> +But the young girl, brusquely taking the role of savior which she +had imposed upon herself, rejoined: +</P> + +<P> +"No, mamma, I am no longer a child, and I have the right to know. I +know that we receive persons of bad repute, adventurers, and I know +that, on that account, people do not respect us. I know more. Well, +it must not be, any longer, do you hear? I do not wish it. We will +go away: you will sell your jewels; we will work, if need be, and we +will live as honest women, somewhere very far away. And if I can +marry, so much the better." +</P> + +<P> +She answered: "You are crazy. You will do me the favor to rise and +come down to breakfast with all the rest." +</P> + +<P> +"No, mamma. There is some one whom I shall never see again, you +understand me. I want him to leave, or I shall leave. You shall +choose between him and me." +</P> + +<P> +She was sitting up in bed, and she raised her voice, speaking as +they do on the stage, playing, finally, the drama which she had +dreamed, almost forgetting her grief in the effort to fulfill her +mission. +</P> + +<P> +The Marquise, stupefied, again repeated: "You are crazy—" not +finding anything else to say. +</P> + +<P> +Yvette replied with a theatrical energy: "No, mamma, that man shall +leave the house, or I shall go myself, for I will not weaken." +</P> + +<P> +"And where will you go? What will you do?" +</P> + +<P> +"I do not know, it matters little—I want you to be an honest +woman." +</P> + +<P> +These words which recurred, aroused in the Marquise a perfect fury, +and she cried: +</P> + +<P> +"Be silent. I do not permit you to talk to me like that. I am as +good as anybody else, do you understand? I lead a certain sort of +life, it is true, and I am proud of it; the 'honest women' are not +as good as I am." +</P> + +<P> +Yvette, astonished, looked at her, and stammered: "Oh! mamma!" +</P> + +<P> +But the Marquise, carried away with excitement, continued: +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, I lead a certain life—what of it? Otherwise you would be a +cook, as I was once, and earn thirty sous a day. You would be +washing dishes, and your mistress would send you to market—do you +understand—and she would turn you out if you loitered, just as you +loiter, now because I am—because I lead this life. Listen. When a +person is only a nursemaid, a poor girl, with fifty francs saved up, +she must know how to manage, if she does not want to starve to +death; and there are not two ways for us, there are not two ways, do +you understand, when we are servants. We cannot make our fortune +with official positions, nor with stockjobbing tricks. We have only +one way—only one way." +</P> + +<P> +She struck her breast as a penitent at the confessional, and flushed +and excited, coming toward the bed, she continued: "So much the +worse. A pretty girl must live or suffer—she has no choice!" Then +returning to her former idea: "Much they deny themselves, your +'honest women.' They are worse, because nothing compels them. They +have money to live on and amuse themselves, and they choose vicious +lives of their own accord. They are the bad ones in reality." +</P> + +<P> +She was standing near the bed of the distracted Yvette, who wanted +to cry out "Help," to escape. Yvette wept aloud, like children who +are whipped. The Marquise was silent and looked at her daughter, +and, seeing her overwhelmed with despair, felt, herself, the pangs +of grief, remorse, tenderness, and pity, and throwing herself upon +the bed with open arms, she also began to sob and stammered: +</P> + +<P> +"My poor little girl, my poor little girl, if you knew, how you were +hurting me." And they wept together, a long while. +</P> + +<P> +Then the Marquise, in whom grief could not long endure, softly rose, +and gently said: +</P> + +<P> +"Come, darling, it is unavoidable; what would you have? Nothing can +be changed now. We must take life as it comes to us." +</P> + +<P> +Yvette continued to weep. The blow had been too harsh and too +unexpected to permit her to reflect and to recover at once. +</P> + +<P> +Her mother resumed: "Now, get up and come down to breakfast, so that +no one will notice anything." +</P> + +<P> +The young girl shook her head as if to say, "No," without being able +to speak. Then she said, with a slow voice full of sobs: +</P> + +<P> +"No, mamma, you know what I said, I won't alter my determination. I +shall not leave my room till they have gone. I never want to see one +of those people again, never, never. If they come back, you will see +no more of me." +</P> + +<P> +The Marquise had dried her eyes, and wearied with emotion, she +murmured: +</P> + +<P> +"Come, reflect, be reasonable." +</P> + +<P> +Then, after a moment's silence: +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, you had better rest this morning. I will come up to see you +this afternoon." And having kissed her daughter on the forehead, she +went to dress herself, already calmed. +</P> + +<P> +Yvette, as soon as her mother had disappeared, rose, and ran to bolt +the door, to be alone, all alone; then she began to think. The +chambermaid knocked about eleven o'clock, and asked through the +door: "Madame the Marquise wants to know if Mademoiselle wishes +anything, and what she will take for her breakfast." +</P> + +<P> +Yvette answered: "I am not hungry, I only ask not to be disturbed." +</P> + +<P> +And she remained in bed, just as if she had been ill. Toward three +o'clock, some one knocked again. She asked: +</P> + +<P> +"Who is there?" +</P> + +<P> +It was her mother's voice which replied: "It is I, darling, I have +come to see how you are." +</P> + +<P> +She hesitated what she should do. She opened the door, and then went +back to bed. The Marquise approached, and, speaking in low tones, as +people do to a convalescent, said: +</P> + +<P> +"Well, are you better? Won't you eat an egg?" +</P> + +<P> +"No, thanks, nothing at all." +</P> + +<P> +Madame Obardi sat down near the bed. They remained without saying +anything, then, finally, as her daughter stayed quiet, with her +hands inert upon the bedclothes, she asked: +</P> + +<P> +"Don't you intend to get up?" +</P> + +<P> +Yvette answered: "Yes, pretty soon." +</P> + +<P> +Then in a grave and slow tone she said: "I have thought a great +deal, mamma, and this—this is my resolution. The past is the past, +let us speak no more of it. But the future shall be different or I +know what is left for me to do. Now, let us say no more about it." +</P> + +<P> +The Marquise, who thought the explanation finished, felt her +impatience gaining a little. It was too much. This big goose of a +girl ought to have known about things long ago. But she did not say +anything in reply, only repeating: +</P> + +<P> +"You are going to get up?" +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, I am ready." +</P> + +<P> +Then her mother became maid for her, bringing her stockings, her +corset, and her skirts. Then she kissed her. +</P> + +<P> +"Will you take a walk before dinner?" +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, mamma." +</P> + +<P> +And they took a stroll along the water, speaking only of commonplace +things. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap04"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER IV. +</H3> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +FROM EMOTION TO PHILOSOPHY +</H3> + +<P> +The following day, early in the morning, Yvette went out alone to +the place where Servigny had read her the history of the ants. She +said to herself: +</P> + +<P> +"I am not going away from this spot without having formed a +resolution." +</P> + +<P> +Before her, at her feet, the water flowed rapidly, filled with large +bubbles which passed in silent flight with deep whirlings. She +already had summed up the points of the situation and the means of +extricating herself from it. What should she do if her mother would +not accept the conditions which she had imposed, would not renounce +her present way of living, her set of visitors—everything and go +and hide with her in a distant land? +</P> + +<P> +She might go alone, take flight, but where, and how? What would she +live on? By working? At what? To whom should she apply to find work? +And, then, the dull and humble life of working-women, daughters of +the people, seemed a little disgraceful, unworthy of her. She +thought of becoming a governess, like young girls in novels, and of +becoming loved by the son of the house, and then marrying him. But +to accomplish that she must have been of good birth, so that, when +the exasperated father should approach her with having stolen his +son's love, she might say in a proud voice: +</P> + +<P> +"My name is Yvette Obardi." +</P> + +<P> +She could not do this. And then, even that would have been a trite +and threadbare method. +</P> + +<P> +The convent was not worth much more. Besides, she felt no vocation +for a religious life, having only an intermittent and fleeting +piety. No one would save her by marrying her, being what she was! No +aid was acceptable from a man, no possible issue, no definite +resource. +</P> + +<P> +And then she wished to do something energetic and really great and +strong, which should serve as an example: so she resolved upon +death. +</P> + +<P> +She decided upon this step suddenly, but tranquilly, as if it were a +journey, without reflecting, without looking at death, without +understanding that it is the end without recommencement, the +departure without return, the eternal farewell to earth and to this +life. +</P> + +<P> +She immediately settled on this extreme measure, with the lightness +of young and excited souls, and she thought of the means which she +would employ. But they all seemed to her painful and hazardous, and, +furthermore, required a violence of action which repelled her. +</P> + +<P> +She quickly abandoned the poniard and revolver, which might wound +only, blind her or disfigure her, and which demanded a practiced and +steady hand. She decided against the rope; it was so common, the +poor man's way of suicide, ridiculous and ugly; and against water +because she knew how to swim So poison remained—but which kind? +Almost all of them cause suffering and incite vomitings. She did not +want either of these things. +</P> + +<P> +Then she thought of chloroform, having read in a newspaper how a +young woman had managed to asphyxiate herself by this process. And +she felt at once a sort of joy in her resolution, an inner pride, a +sensation of bravery. People should see what she was, and what she +was worth. +</P> + +<P> +She returned to Bougival and went to a druggist, from whom she asked +a little chloroform for a tooth which was aching. The man, who knew +her, gave her a tiny bottle of the narcotic. +</P> + +<P> +Then she set out on foot for Croissy, where she procured a second +phial of poison. She obtained a third at Chaton, a fourth at Ruril, +and got home late for breakfast. +</P> + +<P> +As she was very hungry after this long walk, she ate heartily with +the pleasurable appetite of people who have taken exercise. +</P> + +<P> +Her mother, happy to see her so hungry, and now feeling tranquil +herself, said to her as they left the table: +</P> + +<P> +"All our friends are coming to spend Sunday with us. I have invited +the Prince, the Chevalier, and Monsieur de Belvigne." +</P> + +<P> +Yvette turned a little pale, but did not reply. She went out almost +immediately, reached the railway station, and took a ticket for +Paris. And during all the afternoon, she went from druggist to +druggist, buying from each one a few drops of chloroform. She came +back in the evening with her pockets full of little bottles. +</P> + +<P> +She began the same system on the following day, and by chance found +a chemist who gave her, at one stroke, a quarter of a liter. She did +not go out on Saturday; it was a lowering and sultry day; she passed +it entirely on the terrace, stretched on a long wicker-chair. +</P> + +<P> +She thought of almost nothing, very resolute and very calm. She put +on the next morning, a blue costume which was very becoming to her, +wishing to look well. Then looking at herself in the glass, she +suddenly said: +</P> + +<P> +"To-morrow, I shall be dead." And a peculiar shudder passed over her +body. "Dead! I shall speak no more, think no more, no one will see +me more, and I shall never see anything again." +</P> + +<P> +And she gazed attentively at her countenance, as if she had never +observed it, examining especially her eyes, discovering a thousand +things in herself, a secret character in her physiognomy which she +had not known before, astonished to see herself, as if she had +opposite her a strange person, a new friend. +</P> + +<P> +She said to herself: "It is I, in the mirror, there. How queer it is +to look at oneself. But without the mirror we would never know +ourselves. Everybody else would know how we look, and we ourselves +would know nothing." +</P> + +<P> +She placed the heavy braids of her thick hair over her breast, +following with her glance all her gestures, all her poses, and all +her movements. "How pretty I am!" she thought. "Tomorrow I shall be +dead, there, upon my bed." She looked at her bed, and seemed to see +herself stretched out, white as the sheets. +</P> + +<P> +Dead! In a week she would be nothing but dust, to dust returned! A +horrible anguish oppressed her heart. The bright sunlight fell in +floods upon the fields, and the soft morning air came in at the +window. +</P> + +<P> +She sat down thinking of it. Death! It was as if the world was going +to disappear from her; but no, since nothing would be changed in the +world, not even her bedroom. Yes, her room would remain just the +same, with the same bed, the same chairs, the same toilette +articles, but she would be forever gone, and no one would be sorry, +except her mother, perhaps. +</P> + +<P> +People would say: "How pretty she was! that little Yvette," and +nothing more. And as she looked at her arm leaning on the arm of her +chair, she thought again, ashes to ashes, dust to dust. And again a +great shudder of horror ran over her whole body, and she did not +know how she could disappear without the whole earth being blotted +out, so much it seemed to her that she was a part of everything, of +the fields, of the air, of the sunshine, of life itself. +</P> + +<P> +There were bursts of laughter in the garden, a great noise of voices +and of calls, the bustling gaiety of country house parties, and she +recognized the sonorous tones of M. de Belvigne, singing: +</P> + +<P> +"I am underneath thy window, Oh, deign to show thy face." She rose, +without reflecting, and looked out. They all applauded. They were +all five there, with two gentlemen whom she did not know. +</P> + +<P> +She brusquely withdrew, annoyed by the thought that these men had +come to amuse themselves at her mother's house, as at a public +place. +</P> + +<P> +The bell sounded for breakfast. "I will show them how to die," she +said. +</P> + +<P> +She went downstairs with a firm step, with something of the +resolution of the Christian martyrs going into the circus, where the +lions awaited them. +</P> + +<P> +She pressed their hands, smiling in an affable but rather haughty +manner. Servigny asked her: +</P> + +<P> +"Are you less cross to-day, Mam'zelle?" +</P> + +<P> +She answered in a severe and peculiar tone: "Today, I am going to +commit follies. I am in my Paris mood, look out!" +</P> + +<P> +Then turning toward Monsieur de Belvigne, she said: +</P> + +<P> +"You shall be my escort, my little Malmsey. I will take you all +after breakfast to the fete at Marly." +</P> + +<P> +There was, in fact, a fete at Marly. They introduced the two +newcomers to her, the Comte de Tamine and the Marquis de Briquetot. +</P> + +<P> +During the meal, she said nothing further, strengthening herself to +be gay in the afternoon, so that no one should guess anything,—so +that they should be all the more astonished, and should say: "Who +would have thought it? She seemed so happy, so contented! What does +take place in those heads?" +</P> + +<P> +She forced herself not to think of the evening, the chosen hour, +when they should all be upon the terrace. She drank as much wine as +she could stand, to nerve herself, and two little glasses of brandy, +and she was flushed as she left the table, a little bewildered, +heated in body and mind. It seemed to her that she was strengthened +now, and resolved for everything. +</P> + +<P> +"Let us start!" she cried. She took Monsieur de Belvigne's arm and +set the pace for the others. "Come, you shall form my battalion, +Servigny. I choose you as sergeant; you will keep outside the ranks, +on the right. You will make the foreign guard march in front—the +two exotics, the Prince, and the Chevalier—and in the rear the two +recruits who have enlisted to-day. Come!" +</P> + +<P> +They started. And Servigny began to imitate the trumpet, while the +two newcomers made believe to beat the drum. Monsieur de Belvigne, a +little confused, said in a low tone: +</P> + +<P> +"Mademoiselle Yvette, be reasonable, you will compromise yourself." +</P> + +<P> +She answered: "It is you whom I am compromising, Raisine. As for me, +I don't care much about it. To-morrow it will not occur. So much the +worse for you: you ought not to go out with girls like me." +</P> + +<P> +They went through Bougival to the amazement of the passers-by. All +turned to look at them; the citizens came to their doors; the +travelers on the little railway which runs from Ruril to Marly +jeered at them. The men on the platforms cried: +</P> + +<P> +"To the water with them!" +</P> + +<P> +Yvette marched with a military step, holding Belvigne by the arm, as +a prisoner is led. She did not laugh; upon her features sat a pale +seriousness, a sort of sinister calm. Servigny interrupted his +trumpet blasts only to shout orders. The Prince and the Chevalier +were greatly amused, finding all this very funny and in good taste. +The two recruits drummed away continually. +</P> + +<P> +When they arrived at the fete, they made a sensation. Girls +applauded; young men jeered, and a stout gentleman with his wife on +his arm said enviously: "There are some people who are full of fun." +</P> + +<P> +Yvette saw the wooden horses and compelled Belvigne to mount at her +right, while her squad scrambled upon the whirling beasts behind. +When the time was up she refused to dismount, constraining her +escort to take several more rides on the back of these children's +animals, to the great delight of the public, who shouted jokes at +them. Monsieur de Belvigne was livid and dizzy when he got off. +</P> + +<P> +Then she began to wander among the booths. She forced all her men to +get weighed among a crowd of spectators. She made them buy +ridiculous toys which they had to carry in their hands. The Prince +and the Chevalier began to think the joke was being carried too far. +Servigny and the drummers, alone, did not seem to be discouraged. +</P> + +<P> +They finally came to the end of the place. Then she gazed at her +followers in a peculiar manner, with a shy and mischievous glance, +and a strange fancy came to her mind. She drew them up on the bank +of the river. +</P> + +<P> +"Let the one who loves me the most jump into the water," she said. +</P> + +<P> +Nobody leaped. A mob gathered behind them. Women in white aprons +looked on in stupor. Two troopers, in red breeches, laughed loudly. +</P> + +<P> +She repeated: "Then there is not one of you capable of jumping into +the water at my desire?" +</P> + +<P> +Servigny murmured: "Oh, yes, there is," and leaped feet foremost +into the river. His plunge cast a splash over as far as Yvette's +feet. A murmur of astonishment and gaiety arose in the crowd. +</P> + +<P> +Then the young girl picked up from the ground a little piece of +wood, and throwing it into the stream: "Fetch it," she cried. +</P> + +<P> +The young man began to swim, and seizing the floating stick in his +mouth, like a dog, he brought it ashore, and then climbing the bank +he kneeled on one knee to present it. +</P> + +<P> +Yvette took it. "You are handsome," said she, and with a friendly +stroke, she caressed his hair. +</P> + +<P> +A stout woman indignantly exclaimed: "Are such things possible!" +</P> + +<P> +Another woman said: "Can people amuse themselves like that!" +</P> + +<P> +A man remarked: "I would not take a plunge for that sort of a girl." +</P> + +<P> +She again took Belvigne's arm, exclaiming in his face: "You are a +goose, my friend; you don't know what you missed." +</P> + +<P> +They now returned. She cast vexed looks on the passers-by. "How +stupid all these people seem," she said. Then raising her eyes to +the countenance of her companion, she added: "You, too, like all the +rest." +</P> + +<P> +M. de Belvigne bowed. Turning around she saw that the Prince and the +Chevalier had disappeared. Servigny, dejected and dripping, ceased +playing on the trumpet, and walked with a gloomy air at the side of +the two wearied young men, who also had stopped the drum playing. +She began to laugh dryly, saying: +</P> + +<P> +"You seem to have had enough; nevertheless, that is what you call +having a good time, isn't it? You came for that; I have given you +your money's worth." +</P> + +<P> +Then she walked on, saying nothing further; and suddenly Belvigne +perceived that she was weeping. Astounded, he inquired: +</P> + +<P> +"What is the matter?" +</P> + +<P> +She murmured: "Let me alone, it does not concern you." +</P> + +<P> +But he insisted, like a fool: "Oh, Mademoiselle, come, what is the +matter, has anyone annoyed you?" +</P> + +<P> +She repeated impatiently: "Will you keep still?" +</P> + +<P> +Then suddenly, no longer able to resist the despairing sorrow which +drowned her heart, she began to sob so violently, that she could no +longer walk. She covered her face with her hands, panting for +breath, choked by the violence of her despair. +</P> + +<P> +Belvigne stood still at her side, quite bewildered, repeating: "I +don't understand this at all." +</P> + +<P> +But Servigny brusquely came forward: "Let us go home, Mam'zelle, so +that people may not see you weeping in the street. Why do you +perpetrate follies like that when they only make you sad?" +</P> + +<P> +And taking her arm he drew her forward. But as soon as they reached +the iron gate of the villa she began to run, crossed the garden, and +went upstairs, and shut herself in her room. She did not appear +again until the dinner hour, very pale and serious. Servigny had +bought from a country storekeeper a workingman's costume, with +velvet pantaloons, a flowered waistcoat and a blouse, and he adopted +the local dialect. Yvette was in a hurry for them to finish, feeling +her courage ebbing. As soon as the coffee was served she went to her +room again. +</P> + +<P> +She heard the merry voices beneath her window. The Chevalier was +making equivocal jokes, foreign witticisms, vulgar and clumsy. She +listened, in despair. Servigny, just a bit tipsy, was imitating the +common workingman, calling the Marquise "the Missus." And all of a +sudden he said to Saval: "Well, Boss?" That caused a general laugh. +</P> + +<P> +Then Yvette decided. She first took a sheet of paper and wrote: +</P> + +<P CLASS="letter"> + "Bougival, Sunday, nine o'clock in the evening.<BR> + "I die so that I may not become a kept woman.<BR> +<BR> + "YVETTE."<BR> +</P> + +<P> +Then in a postscript: +</P> + +<P CLASS="letter"> + "Adieu, my dear mother, pardon."<BR> +</P> + +<P> +She sealed the envelope, and addressed it to the Marquise Obardi. +</P> + +<P> +Then she rolled her long chair near the window, drew a little table +within reach of her hand, and placed upon it the big bottle of +chloroform beside a handful of wadding. +</P> + +<P> +A great rose-tree covered with flowers, climbing as high as her +window, exhaled in the night a soft and gentle perfume, in light +breaths; and she stood for a moment enjoying it. The moon, in its +first quarter, was floating in the dark sky, a little ragged at the +left, and veiled at times by slight mists. +</P> + +<P> +Yvette thought: "I am going to die!" And her heart, swollen with +sobs, nearly bursting, almost suffocated her. She felt in her a need +of asking mercy from some one, of being saved, of being loved. +</P> + +<P> +The voice of Servigny aroused her. He was telling an improper story, +which was constantly interrupted by bursts of laughter. The Marquise +herself laughed louder than the others. +</P> + +<P> +"There is nobody like him for telling that sort of thing," she said, +laughing. +</P> + +<P> +Yvette took the bottle, uncorked it, and poured a little of the +liquid on the cotton. A strong, sweet, strange odor arose; and as +she brought the piece of cotton to her lips, the fumes entered her +throat and made her cough. +</P> + +<P> +Then shutting her mouth, she began to inhale it. She took in long +breaths of this deadly vapor, closing her eyes, and forcing herself +to stifle in her mind all thoughts, so that she might not reflect, +that she might know nothing more. +</P> + +<P> +It seemed to her at first that her chest was growing larger, was +expanding, and that her soul, recently heavy and burdened with +grief, was becoming light, light, as if the weight which overwhelmed +her was lifted, wafted away. Something lively and agreeable +penetrated even to the extremities of her limbs, even to the tips of +her toes and fingers and entered her flesh, a sort of dreamy +intoxication, of soft fever. She saw that the cotton was dry, and +she was astonished that she was not already dead. Her senses seemed +more acute, more subtle, more alert. She heard the lowest whisper on +the terrace. Prince Kravalow was telling how he had killed an +Austrian general in a duel. +</P> + +<P> +Then, further off, in the fields, she heard the noise of the night, +the occasional barkings of a dog, the short cry of the frogs, the +almost imperceptible rustling of the leaves. +</P> + +<P> +She took the bottle again, and saturated once more the little piece +of wadding; then she began to breathe in the fumes again. For a few +moments she felt nothing; then that soft and soothing feeling of +comfort which she had experienced before enveloped her. +</P> + +<P> +Twice she poured more chloroform upon the cotton, eager now for that +physical and mental sensation, that dreamy torpor, which bewildered +her soul. +</P> + +<P> +It seemed to her that she had no more bones, flesh, legs, or arms. +The drug had gently taken all these away from her, without her +perceiving it. The chloroform had drawn away her body, leaving her +only her mind, more awakened, more active, larger, and more free +than she had ever felt it. +</P> + +<P> +She recalled a thousand forgotten things, little details of her +childhood, trifles which had given her pleasure. Endowed suddenly +with an awakened agility, her mind leaped to the most diverse ideas, +ran through a thousand adventures, wandered in the past, and lost +itself in the hoped-for events of the future. And her lively and +careless thoughts had a sensuous charm: she experienced a divine +pleasure in dreaming thus. +</P> + +<P> +She still heard the voices, but she could no longer distinguish the +words, which to her seemed to have a different meaning. She was in a +kind of strange and changing fairyland. +</P> + +<P> +She was on a great boat which floated through a beautiful country, +all covered with flowers. She saw people on the shore, and these +people spoke very loudly; then she was again on land, without asking +how, and Servigny, clad as a prince, came to seek her, to take her +to a bull-fight. +</P> + +<P> +The streets were filled with passers-by, who were talking, and she +heard conversations which did not astonish her, as if she had known +the people, for through her dreamy intoxication, she still heard her +mother's friends laughing and talking on the terrace. +</P> + +<P> +Then everything became vague. Then she awakened, deliciously +benumbed, and she could hardly remember what had happened. +</P> + +<P> +So, she was not yet dead. But she felt so calm, in such a state of +physical comfort, that she was not in haste to finish with it—she +wanted to make this exquisite drowsiness last forever. +</P> + +<P> +She breathed slowly and looked at the moon, opposite her, above the +trees. Something had changed in her spirit. She no longer thought as +she had done just now. The chloroform quieting her body and her soul +had calmed her grief and lulled her desire to die. +</P> + +<P> +Why should she not live? Why should she not be loved? Why should she +not lead a happy life? Everything appeared possible to her now, and +easy and certain. Everything in life was sweet, everything was +charming. But as she wished to dream on still, she poured more of +the dream-water on the cotton and began to breathe it in again, +stopping at times, so as not to absorb too much of it and die. +</P> + +<P> +She looked at the moon and saw in it a face, a woman's face. She +began to scorn the country in the fanciful intoxication of the drug. +That face swung in the sky; then it sang, it sang with a well-known +voice the alleluia of love. +</P> + +<P> +It was the Marquise, who had come in and seated herself at the +piano. +</P> + +<P> +Yvette had wings now. She was flying through a clear night, above +the wood and streams. She was flying with delight, opening and +closing her wings, borne by the wind as by a caress. She moved in +the air, which kissed her skin, and she went so fast, so fast, that +she had no time to see anything beneath her, and she found herself +seated on the bank of a pond with a line in her hand; she was +fishing. +</P> + +<P> +Something pulled on the cord, and when she drew it out of the water, +it bore a magnificent pearl necklace, which she had longed for some +time ago. She was not at all astonished at this deed, and she looked +at Servigny, who had come to her side—she knew not how. He was +fishing also, and drew out of the river a wooden horse. +</P> + +<P> +Then she had anew the feeling of awaking, and she heard some one +calling down stairs. Her mother had said: +</P> + +<P> +"Put out the candle." Then Servigny's voice rose, clear and jesting: +</P> + +<P> +"Put out your candle, Mam'zelle Yvette." +</P> + +<P> +And all took up the chorus: "Mam'zelle Yvette, put out your candle." +</P> + +<P> +She again poured chloroform on the cotton, but, as she did not want +to die, she placed it far enough from her face to breathe the fresh +air, while nevertheless her room was filled with the asphyxiating +odor of the narcotic, for she knew that some one was coming, and +taking a suitable posture, a pose of the dead, she waited. +</P> + +<P> +The Marquise said: "I am a little uneasy! That foolish child has +gone to sleep leaving the light on her table. I will send Clemence +to put it out, and to shut the balcony window, which is wide open." +</P> + +<P> +And soon the maid rapped on the door calling: "Mademoiselle, +Mademoiselle!" After a moment's silence, she repeated: "Mademoiselle, +Madame the Marquise begs you to put out your candle and shut the window." +</P> + +<P> +Clemence waited a little, then knocked louder, and cried: +</P> + +<P> +"Mademoiselle, Mademoiselle!" +</P> + +<P> +As Yvette did not reply, the servant went away and reported to the +Marquise: +</P> + +<P> +"Mademoiselle must have gone to sleep, her door is bolted, and I +could not awaken her." +</P> + +<P> +Madame Obardi murmured: +</P> + +<P> +"But she must not stay like that," +</P> + +<P> +Then, at the suggestion of Servigny, they all gathered under the +window, shouting in chorus: +</P> + +<P> +"Hip! hip! hurrah! Mam'zelle Yvette." +</P> + +<P> +Their clamor rose in the calm night, through the transparent air +beneath the moon, over the sleeping country; and they heard it die +away in the distance like the sound of a disappearing train. +</P> + +<P> +As Yvette did not answer the Marquise said: "I only hope that +nothing has happened. I am beginning to be afraid." +</P> + +<P> +Then Servigny, plucking red roses from a big rosebush trained along +the wall and buds not yet opened, began to throw them into the room +through the window. +</P> + +<P> +At the first rose that fell at her side, Yvette started and almost +cried out. Others fell upon her dress, others upon her hair, while +others going over her head fell upon the bed, covering it with a +rain of flowers. +</P> + +<P> +The Marquise, in a choking voice, cried: "Come, Yvette, answer." +</P> + +<P> +Then Servigny declared: "Truly this is not natural; I am going to +climb up by the balcony." +</P> + +<P> +But the Chevalier grew indignant. +</P> + +<P> +"Now, let me do it," he said. "It is a great favor I ask; it is too +good a means, and too good a time to obtain a rendezvous." +</P> + +<P> +All the rest, who thought the young girl was joking, cried: "We +protest! He shall not climb up." +</P> + +<P> +But the Marquise, disturbed, repeated: "And yet some one must go and +see." +</P> + +<P> +The Prince exclaimed with a dramatic gesture: +</P> + +<P> +"She favors the Duke, we are betrayed." +</P> + +<P> +"Let us toss a coin to see who shall go up," said the Chevalier. He +took a five-franc piece from his pocket, and began with the Prince. +</P> + +<P> +"Tail," said he. It was head. +</P> + +<P> +The Prince tossed the coin in his turn saying to Saval: "Call, +Monsieur." +</P> + +<P> +Saval called "Head." It was tail. +</P> + +<P> +The Prince then gave all the others a chance, and they all lost. +</P> + +<P> +Servigny, who was standing opposite him, exclaimed in his insolent +way: "PARBLEU! he is cheating!" +</P> + +<P> +The Russian put his hand on his heart and held out the gold piece to +his rival, saying: "Toss it yourself, my dear Duke." +</P> + +<P> +Servigny took it and spinning it up, said: "Head." It was tail. +</P> + +<P> +He bowed and pointing to the pillar of the balcony said: "Climb up, +Prince." But the Prince looked about him with a disturbed air. +</P> + +<P> +"What are you looking for?" asked the Chevalier. +</P> + +<P> +"Well,—I—would—like—a ladder." A general laugh followed. +</P> + +<P> +Saval, advancing, said: "We will help you." +</P> + +<P> +He lifted him in his arms, as strong as those of Hercules, telling +him: +</P> + +<P> +"Now climb to that balcony." +</P> + +<P> +The Prince immediately clung to it, and, Saval letting him go, he +swung there, suspended in the air, moving his legs in empty space. +</P> + +<P> +Then Servigny, seeing his struggling legs which sought a resting +place, pulled them downward with all his strength; the hands lost +their grip and the Prince fell in a heap on Monsieur de Belvigne, +who was coming to aid him. "Whose turn next?" asked Servigny. No one +claimed the privilege. +</P> + +<P> +"Come, Belvigne, courage!" +</P> + +<P> +"Thank you, my dear boy, I am thinking of my bones." +</P> + +<P> +"Come, Chevalier, you must be used to scaling walls." +</P> + +<P> +"I give my place to you, my dear Duke." +</P> + +<P> +"Ha, ha, that is just what I expected." +</P> + +<P> +Servigny, with a keen eye, turned to the pillar. Then with a leap, +clinging to the balcony, he drew himself up like a gymnast and +climbed over the balustrade. +</P> + +<P> +All the spectators, gazing at him, applauded. But he immediately +reappeared, calling: +</P> + +<P> +"Come, quick! Come, quick! Yvette is unconscious." The Marquise +uttered a loud cry, and rushed for the stairs. +</P> + +<P> +The young girl, her eyes closed, pretended to be dead. Her mother +entered distracted, and threw her self upon her. +</P> + +<P> +"Tell me what is the matter with her, what is the matter with her?" +</P> + +<P> +Servigny picked up the bottle of chloroform which had fallen upon +the floor. +</P> + +<P> +"She has drugged herself," said he. +</P> + +<P> +He placed his ear to her heart; then he added: +</P> + +<P> +"But she is not dead; we can resuscitate her. Have you any ammonia?" +</P> + +<P> +The maid, bewildered, repeated: "Any what, Monsieur?" +</P> + +<P> +"Any smelling-salts." +</P> + +<P> +"Yes, Monsieur." "Bring them at once, and leave the door open to +make a draft of air." +</P> + +<P> +The Marquise, on her knees, was sobbing: "Yvette! Yvette, my +daughter, my daughter, listen, answer me, Yvette, my child. Oh, my +God! my God! what has she done?" +</P> + +<P> +The men, frightened, moved about without speaking, bringing water, +towels, glasses, and vinegar. Some one said: "She ought to be +undressed." And the Marquise, who had lost her head, tried to +undress her daughter; but did not know what she was doing. Her hands +trembled and faltered, and she groaned: +</P> + +<P> +"I cannot,—I cannot—" +</P> + +<P> +The maid had come back bringing a druggist's bottle which Servigny +opened and from which he poured out half upon a handkerchief. Then +he applied it to Yvette's nose, causing her to choke. +</P> + +<P> +"Good, she breathes," said he. "It will be nothing." +</P> + +<P> +And he bathed her temples, cheeks, and neck with the pungent liquid. +</P> + +<P> +Then he made a sign to the maid to unlace the girl, and when she had +nothing more on than a skirt over her chemise, he raised her in his +arms and carried her to the bed, quivering, moved by the odor and +contact of her flesh. Then she was placed in bed. He arose very +pale. +</P> + +<P> +"She will come to herself," he said, "it is nothing." For he had +heard her breathe in a continuous and regular way. But seeing all +the men with their eyes fixed on Yvette in bed, he was seized with a +jealous irritation, and advanced toward them. "Gentlemen," he said, +"there are too many of us in this room; be kind enough to leave us +alone,—Monsieur Saval and me—with the Marquise." +</P> + +<P> +He spoke in a tone which was dry and full of authority. +</P> + +<P> +Madame Obardi had grasped her lover, and with her head uplifted +toward him she cried to him: +</P> + +<P> +"Save her, oh, save her!" +</P> + +<P> +But Servigny turning around saw a letter on the table. He seized it +with a rapid movement, and read the address. He understood and +thought: "Perhaps it would be better if the Marquise should not know +of this," and tearing open the envelope, he devoured at a glance the +two lines it contained: +</P> + +<P CLASS="letter"> + "I die so that I may not become a kept woman."<BR> + "Yvette."<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="letter"> + "Adieu, my dear mother, pardon."<BR> +</P> + +<P> +"The devil!" he thought, "this calls for reflection." And he hid the +letter in his pocket. +</P> + +<P> +Then he approached the bed, and immediately the thought came to him +that the young girl had regained consciousness but that she dared +not show it, from shame, from humiliation, and from fear of +questioning. The Marquise had fallen on her knees now, and was +weeping, her head on the foot of the bed. Suddenly she exclaimed: +</P> + +<P> +"A doctor, we must have a doctor!" +</P> + +<P> +But Servigny, who had just said something in a low tone to Saval, +replied to her: "No, it is all over. Come, go out a minute, just a +minute, and I promise you that she will kiss you when you come +back." And the Baron, taking Madame Obardi by the arm, led her from +the room. +</P> + +<P> +Then Servigny, sitting-by the bed, took Yvette's hand and said: +"Mam'zelle, listen to me." +</P> + +<P> +She did not answer. She felt so well, so soft and warm in bed, that +she would have liked never to move, never to speak, and to live like +that forever. An infinite comfort had encompassed her, a comfort the +like of which she had never experienced. +</P> + +<P> +The mild night air coming in by velvety breaths touched her temples +in an exquisite almost imperceptible way. It was a caress like a +kiss of the wind, like the soft and refreshing breath of a fan made +of all the leaves of the trees and of all the shadows of the night, +of the mist of rivers, and of all the flowers too, for the roses +tossed up from below into her room and upon her bed, and the roses +climbing at her balcony, mingled their heavy perfume with the +healthful savor of the evening breeze. +</P> + +<P> +She drank in this air which was so good, her eyes closed, her heart +reposing in the yet pervading intoxication of the drug, and she had +no longer at all the desire to die, but a strong, imperious wish to +live, to be happy—no matter how—to be loved, yes, to be loved. +</P> + +<P> +Servigny repeated: "Mam'zelle Yvette, listen to me." +</P> + +<P> +And she decided to open her eyes. +</P> + +<P> +He continued, as he saw her reviving: "Come! Come! what does this +nonsense mean?" +</P> + +<P> +She murmured: "My poor Muscade, I was so unhappy." +</P> + +<P> +He squeezed her hand: "And that led you into a pretty scrape! Come, +you must promise me not to try it again." +</P> + +<P> +She did not reply, but nodded her head slightly with an almost +imperceptible smile. He drew from his pocket the letter which he had +found on the table: +</P> + +<P> +"Had I better show this to your mother?" +</P> + +<P> +She shook her head, no. He knew not what more to say for the +situation seemed to him without an outlet. So he murmured: +</P> + +<P> +"My dear child, everyone has hard things to bear. I understand your +sorrow and I promise you—" +</P> + +<P> +She stammered: "You are good." +</P> + +<P> +They were silent. He looked at her. She had in her glance something +of tenderness, of weakness; and suddenly she raised both her arms, +as if she would draw him to her; he bent over her, feeling that she +called him, and their lips met. +</P> + +<P> +For a long time they remained thus, their eyes closed. +</P> + +<P> +But, knowing that he would lose his head, he drew away. She smiled +at him now, most tenderly; and, with both her hands clinging to his +shoulders, she held him. +</P> + +<P> +"I am going to call your mother," he said. +</P> + +<P> +She murmured: "Just a second more. I am so happy." +</P> + +<P> +Then after a silence, she said in a tone so low that it could +scarcely be heard: "Will you love me very much? Tell me!" +</P> + +<P> +He kneeled beside her bed, and kissing the hand she had given him, +said: "I adore you." But some one was walking near the door. He +arose with a bound, and called in his ordinary voice, which seemed +nevertheless a little ironical: "You may come in. It is all right +now." +</P> + +<P> +The Marquise threw herself on her daughter, with both arms open, and +clasped her frantically, covering her countenance with tears, while +Servigny with radiant soul and quivering body went out upon the +balcony to breathe the fresh air of the night, humming to himself +the old couplet: +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> + "A woman changeth oft her mind:<BR> + Yet fools still trust in womankind."<BR> +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR><BR> + + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Yvette, by Henri Rene Guy de Maupassant + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK YVETTE *** + +***** This file should be named 3664-h.htm or 3664-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/3/6/6/3664/ + +Produced by Charles Franks and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team. 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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: Yvette + +Author: Henri Rene Guy de Maupassant + +Posting Date: April 29, 2009 [EBook #3664] +Release Date: January, 2003 +First Posted: July 9, 2001 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK YVETTE *** + + + + +Produced by Charles Franks and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team. HTML version by Al Haines. + + + + + + + + + + +Yvette + + +by + +Henri Rene Guy de Maupassant + + + + +CONTENTS + + I. The Initiation of Saval + II. Bougival and Love + III. Enlightenment + IV. From Emotion to Philosophy + + + + +CHAPTER I. + +The Initiation of Saval + + +As they were leaving the Cafe Riche, Jean de Servigny said to Leon +Saval: "If you don't object, let us walk. The weather is too fine to +take a cab." + +His friend answered: "I would like nothing better." + +Jean replied: "It is hardly eleven o'clock. We shall arrive much +before midnight, so let us go slowly." + +A restless crowd was moving along the boulevard, that throng +peculiar to summer nights, drinking, chatting, and flowing like a +river, filled with a sense of comfort and joy. Here and there a cafe +threw a flood of light upon a knot of patrons drinking at little +tables on the sidewalk, which were covered with bottles and glasses, +hindering the passing of the hurrying multitude. On the pavement the +cabs with their red, blue, or green lights dashed by, showing for a +second, in the glimmer, the thin shadow of the horse, the raised +profile of the coachman, and the dark box of the carriage. The cabs +of the Urbaine Company made clear and rapid spots when their yellow +panels were struck by the light. + +The two friends walked with slow steps, cigars in their mouths, in +evening dress and overcoats on their arms, with a flower in their +buttonholes, and their hats a trifle on one side, as men will +carelessly wear them sometimes, after they have dined well and the +air is mild. + +They had been linked together since their college days by a close, +devoted, and firm affection. Jean de Servigny, small, slender, a +trifle bald, rather frail, with elegance of mien, curled mustache, +bright eyes, and fine lips, was a man who seemed born and bred upon +the boulevard. He was tireless in spite of his languid air, strong +in spite of his pallor, one of those slight Parisians to whom +gymnastic exercise, fencing, cold shower and hot baths give a +nervous, artificial strength. He was known by his marriage as well +as by his wit, his fortune, his connections, and by that +sociability, amiability, and fashionable gallantry peculiar to +certain men. + +A true Parisian, furthermore, light, sceptical, changeable, +captivating, energetic, and irresolute, capable of everything and of +nothing; selfish by principle and generous on occasion, he lived +moderately upon his income, and amused himself with hygiene. +Indifferent and passionate, he gave himself rein and drew back +constantly, impelled by conflicting instincts, yielding to all, and +then obeying, in the end, his own shrewd man-about-town judgment, +whose weather-vane logic consisted in following the wind and drawing +profit from circumstances without taking the trouble to originate +them. + +His companion, Leon Saval, rich also, was one of those superb and +colossal figures who make women turn around in the streets to look +at them. He gave the idea of a statue turned into a man, a type of a +race, like those sculptured forms which are sent to the Salons. Too +handsome, too tall, too big, too strong, he sinned a little from the +excess of everything, the excess of his qualities. He had on hand +countless affairs of passion. + +As they reached the Vaudeville theater, he asked: "Have you warned +that lady that you are going to take me to her house to see her?" + +Servigny began to laugh: "Forewarn the Marquise Obardi! Do you warn +an omnibus driver that you shall enter his stage at the corner of +the boulevard?" + +Saval, a little perplexed, inquired: "What sort of person is this +lady?" + +His friend replied: "An upstart, a charming hussy, who came from no +one knows where, who made her appearance one day, nobody knows how, +among the adventuresses of Paris, knowing perfectly well how to take +care of herself. Besides, what difference does it make to us? They +say that her real name, her maiden name--for she still has every +claim to the title of maiden except that of innocence--is Octavia +Bardin, from which she constructs the name Obardi by prefixing the +first letter of her first name and dropping the last letter of the +last name." + +"Moreover, she is a lovable woman, and you, from your physique, are +inevitably bound to become her lover. Hercules is not introduced +into Messalina's home without making some disturbance. Nevertheless +I make bold to add that if there is free entrance to this house, +just as there is in bazaars, you are not exactly compelled to buy +what is for sale. Love and cards are on the programme, but nobody +compels you to take up with either. And the exit is as free as the +entrance." + +"She settled down in the Etoile district, a suspicious neighborhood, +three years ago, and opened her drawing-room to that froth of the +continents which comes to Paris to practice its various formidable +and criminal talents." + +"I don't remember just how I went to her house. I went as we all go, +because there is card playing, because the women are compliant, and +the men dishonest. I love that social mob of buccaneers with +decorations of all sorts of orders, all titled, and all entirely +unknown at their embassies, except to the spies. They are always +dragging in the subject of honor, quoting the list of their +ancestors on the slightest provocation, and telling the story of +their life at every opportunity, braggarts, liars, sharpers, +dangerous as their cards, false as their names, brave because they +have to be, like the assassins who can not pluck their victims +except by exposing their own lives. In a word, it is the aristocracy +of the bagnio." + +"I like them. They are interesting to fathom and to know, amusing to +listen to, often witty, never commonplace as the ordinary French +guests. Their women are always pretty, with a little flavor of +foreign knavery, with the mystery of their past existence, half of +which, perhaps, spent in a House of Correction. They generally have +fine eyes and glorious hair, the true physique of the profession, an +intoxicating grace, a seductiveness which drives men to folly, an +unwholesome, irresistible charm! They conquer like the highwaymen of +old. They are rapacious creatures; true birds of prey. I like them, +too." + +"The Marquise Obardi is one of the type of these elegant +good-for-nothings. Ripe and pretty, with a feline charm, you can see +that she is vicious to the marrow. Everybody has a good time at her +house, with cards, dancing, and suppers; in fact there is everything +which goes to make up the pleasures of fashionable society life." + +"Have you ever been or are you now her lover?" Leon Saval asked. + +"I have not been her lover, I am not now, and I never shall be. I +only go to the house to see her daughter." + +"Ah! She has a daughter, then?" + +"A daughter! A marvel, my dear man. She is the principal attraction +of the den to-day. Tall, magnificent, just ripe, eighteen years old, +as fair as her mother is dark, always merry, always ready for an +entertainment, always laughing, and ready to dance like mad. Who +will be the lucky man, to capture her, or who has already done so? +Nobody can tell that. She has ten of us in her train, all hoping." + +"Such a daughter in the hands of a woman like the Marquise is a +fortune. And they play the game together, the two charmers. No one +knows just what they are planning. Perhaps they are waiting for a +better bargain than I should prove. But I tell you that I shall +close the bargain if I ever get a chance." + +"That girl Yvette absolutely baffles me, moreover. She is a mystery. +If she is not the most complete monster of astuteness and perversity +that I have ever seen, she certainly is the most marvelous +phenomenon of innocence that can be imagined. She lives in that +atmosphere of infamy with a calm and triumphing ease which is either +wonderfully profligate or entirely artless. Strange scion of an +adventuress, cast upon the muck-heap of that set, like a magnificent +plant nurtured upon corruption, or rather like the daughter of some +noble race, of some great artist, or of some grand lord, of some +prince or dethroned king, tossed some evening into her mother's +arms, nobody can make out what she is nor what she thinks. But you +are going to see her." + +Saval began to laugh and said: "You are in love with her." + +"No. I am on the list, which is not precisely the same thing. I will +introduce you to my most serious rivals. But the chances are in my +favor. I am in the lead, and some little distinction is shown to +me." + +"You are in love," Saval repeated. + +"No. She disquiets me, seduces and disturbs me, attracts and +frightens me away. I mistrust her as I would a trap, and I long for +her as I long for a sherbet when I am thirsty. I yield to her charm, +and I only approach her with the apprehension that I would feel +concerning a man who was known to be a skillful thief. To her +presence I have an irrational impulse toward belief in her possible +purity and a very reasonable mistrust of her not less probable +trickery. I feel myself in contact with an abnormal being, beyond +the pale of natural laws, an exquisite or detestable creature--I +don't know which." + +For the third time Saval said: "I tell you that you are in love. You +speak of her with the magniloquence of a poet and the feeling of a +troubadour. Come, search your heart, and confess." + +Servigny walked a few steps without answering. Then he replied: + +"That is possible, after all. In any case, she fills my mind almost +continually. Yes, perhaps I am in love. I dream about her too much. +I think of her when I am asleep and when I awake--that is surely a +grave indication. Her face follows me, accompanies me ceaselessly, +ever before me, around me, with me. Is this love, this physical +infatuation? Her features are so stamped upon my vision that I see +her the moment I shut my eyes. My heart beats quickly every time I +look at her, I don't deny it." + +"So I am in love with her, but in a queer fashion. I have the +strongest desire for her, and yet the idea of making her my wife +would seem to me a folly, a piece of stupidity, a monstrous thing: +And I have a little fear of her, as well, the fear which a bird +feels over which a hawk is hovering." + +"And again I am jealous of her, jealous of all of which I am +ignorant in her incomprehensible heart. I am always wondering: 'Is +she a charming youngster or a wretched jade?' She says things that +would make an army shudder; but so does a parrot. She is at times so +indiscreet and yet modest that I am forced to believe in her +spotless purity, and again so incredibly artless that I must suspect +that she has never been chaste. She allures me, excites me, like a +woman of a certain category, and at the same time acts like an +impeccable virgin. She seems to love me and yet makes fun of me; she +deports herself in public as if she were my mistress and treats me +in private as if I were her brother or footman." + +"There are times when I fancy that she has as many lovers as her +mother. And at other times I imagine that she suspects absolutely +nothing of that sort of life, you understand. Furthermore, she is a +great novel reader. I am at present, while awaiting something +better, her book purveyor. She calls me her 'librarian.' Every week +the New Book Store sends her, on my orders, everything new that has +appeared, and I believe that she reads everything at random. It must +make a strange sort of mixture in her head." + +"That kind of literary hasty-pudding accounts perhaps for some of +the girl's peculiar ways. When a young woman looks at existence +through the medium of fifteen thousand novels, she must see it in a +strange light, and construct queer ideas about matters and things in +general. As for me, I am waiting. It is certain at any rate that I +never have had for any other woman the devotion which I have had for +her. And still it is quite certain that I shall never marry her. So +if she has had numbers, I shall swell the number. And if she has +not, I shall take the first ticket, just as I would do for a street +car." + +"The case is very simple. Of course, she will never marry. Who in +the world would marry the Marquise Obardi's daughter, the child of +Octavia Bardin? Nobody, for a thousand reasons. Where would they +ever find a husband for her? In society? Never. The mother's house +is a sort of liberty-hall whose patronage is attracted by the +daughter. Girls don't get married under those conditions." + +"Would she find a husband among the trades-people? Still less would +that be possible. And besides the Marquise is not the woman to make +a bad bargain; she will give Yvette only to a man of high position, +and that man she will never discover." + +"Then perhaps she will look among the common people. Still less +likely. There is no solution of the problem, then. This young lady +belongs neither to society, nor to the tradesmen's class, nor to the +common people, and she can never enter any of these ranks by +marriage." + +"She belongs through her mother, her birth, her education, her +inheritance, her manners, and her customs, to the vortex of the most +rapid life of Paris. She can never escape it, save by becoming a +nun, which is not at all probable with her manners and tastes. She +has only one possible career, a life of pleasure. She will come to +it sooner or later, if indeed she has not already begun to tread its +primrose path. She cannot escape her fate. From being a young girl +she will take the inevitable step, quite simply. And I would like to +be the pivot of this transformation." + +"I am waiting. There are many lovers. You will see among them a +Frenchman, Monsieur de Belvigne; a Russian, called Prince Kravalow, +and an Italian, Chevalier Valreali, who have all announced their +candidacies and who are consequently maneuvering to the best of +their ability. In addition to these there are several freebooters of +less importance. The Marquise waits and watches. But I think that +she has views about me. She knows that I am very rich, and she makes +less of the others." + +"Her drawing-room is, moreover, the most astounding that I know of, +in such, exhibitions. You even meet very decent men there, like +ourselves. As for the women, she has culled the best there is from +the basket of pickpockets. Nobody knows where she found them. It is +a set apart from Bohemia, apart from everything. She has had one +inspiration showing genius, and that is the knack of selecting +especially those adventuresses who have children, generally girls. +So that a fool might believe that in her house he was among +respectable women!" They had reached the avenue of the Champs-Elysees. +A gentle breeze softly stirred the leaves and touched the faces of +passers-by, like the breaths of a giant fan, waving somewhere in +the sky. Silent shadows wandered beneath the trees; others, on +benches, made a dark spot. And these shadows spoke very low, as if +they were telling each other important or shameful secrets. + +"You can't imagine what a collection of fictitious titles are met in +this lair," said Servigny, "By the way, I shall present you by the +name of Count Saval; plain Saval would not do at all." + +"Oh, no, indeed!" cried his friend; "I would not have anyone think +me capable of borrowing a title, even for an evening, even among +those people. Ah, no!" + +Servigny began to laugh. + +"How stupid you are! Why, in that set they call me the Duke de +Servigny. I don't know how nor why. But at any rate the Duke de +Servigny I am and shall remain, without complaining or protesting. +It does not worry me. I should have no footing there whatever +without a title." + +But Saval would not be convinced. + +"Well, you are of rank, and so you may remain. But, as for me, no. I +shall be the only common person in the drawing-room. So much the +worse, or, so much the better. It will be my mark of distinction and +superiority." + +Servigny was obstinate. + +"I tell you that it is not possible. Why, it would almost seem +monstrous. You would have the effect of a ragman at a meeting of +emperors. Let me do as I like. I shall introduce you as the Vice-Roi +du 'Haut-Mississippi,' and no one will be at all astonished. When a +man takes on greatness, he can't take too much." + +"Once more, no, I do not wish it." + +"Very well, have your way. But, in fact, I am very foolish to try to +convince you. I defy you to get in without some one giving you a +title, just as they give a bunch of violets to the ladies at the +entrance to certain stores." + +They turned to the right in the Rue de Barrie, mounted one flight of +stairs in a fine modern house, and gave their overcoats and canes +into the hands of four servants in knee-breeches. A warm odor, as of +a festival assembly, filled the air, an odor of flowers, perfumes, +and women; and a composed and continuous murmur came from the +adjoining rooms, which were filled with people. + +A kind of master of ceremonies, tall, erect, wide of girth, serious, +his face framed in white whiskers, approached the newcomers, asking +with a short and haughty bow: "Whom shall I announce?" + +"Monsieur Saval," Servigny replied. + +Then with a loud voice, the man opening the door cried out to the +crowd of guests: + +"Monsieur the Duke de Servigny." + +"Monsieur the Baron Saval." + +The first drawing-room was filled with women. The first thing which +attracted attention was the display of bare shoulders, above a flood +of brilliant gowns. + +The mistress of the house who stood talking with three friends, +turned and came forward with a majestic step, with grace in her mien +and a smile on her lips. Her forehead was narrow and very low, and +was covered with a mass of glossy black hair, encroaching a little +upon the temples. + +She was tall, a trifle too large, a little too stout, over ripe, but +very pretty, with a heavy, warm, potent beauty. Beneath that mass of +hair, full of dreams and smiles, rendering her mysteriously +captivating, were enormous black eyes. Her nose was a little narrow, +her mouth large and infinitely seductive, made to speak and to +conquer. + +Her greatest charm was in her voice. It came from that mouth as +water from a spring, so natural, so light, so well modulated, so +clear, that there was a physical pleasure in listening to it. It was +a joy for the ear to hear the flexible words flow with the grace of +a babbling brook, and it was a joy for the eyes to see those pretty +lips, a trifle too red, open as the words rippled forth. + +She gave one hand to Servigny, who kissed it, and dropping her fan +on its little gold chain, she gave the other to Saval, saying to +him: "You are welcome, Baron, all the Duke's friends are at home +here." + +Then she fixed her brilliant eyes upon the Colossus who had just +been introduced to her. She had just the slightest down on her upper +lip, a suspicion of a mustache, which seemed darker when she spoke. +There was a pleasant odor about her, pervading, intoxicating, some +perfume of America or of the Indies. Other people came in, +marquesses, counts or princes. She said to Servigny, with the +graciousness of a mother: "You will find my daughter in the other +parlor. Have a good time, gentlemen, the house is yours." + +And she left them to go to those who had come later, throwing at +Saval that smiling and fleeting glance which women use to show that +they are pleased. Servigny grasped his friend's arm. + +"I will pilot you," said he. "In this parlor where we now are, +women, the temples of the fleshly, fresh or otherwise. Bargains as +good as new, even better, for sale or on lease. At the right, +gaming, the temple of money. You understand all about that. At the +lower end, dancing, the temple of innocence, the sanctuary, the +market for young girls. They are shown off there in every light. +Even legitimate marriages are tolerated. It is the future, the hope, +of our evenings. And the most curious part of this museum of moral +diseases are these young girls whose souls are out of joint, just +like the limbs of the little clowns born of mountebanks. Come and +look at them." + +He bowed, right and left, courteously, a compliment on his lips, +sweeping each low-gowned woman whom he knew with the look of an +expert. + +The musicians, at the end of the second parlor, were playing a +waltz; and the two friends stopped at the door to look at them. A +score of couples were whirling-the men with a serious expression, +and the women with a fixed smile on their lips. They displayed a +good deal of shoulder, like their mothers; and the bodices of some +were only held in place by a slender ribbon, disclosing at times +more than is generally shown. + +Suddenly from the end of the room a tall girl darted forward, +gliding through the crowd, brushing against the dancers, and holding +her long train in her left hand. She ran with quick little steps as +women do in crowds, and called out: "Ah! How is Muscade? How do you +do, Muscade?" + +Her features wore an expression of the bloom of life, the +illumination of happiness. Her white flesh seemed to shine, the +golden-white flesh which goes with red hair. The mass of her +tresses, twisted on her head, fiery, flaming locks, nestled against +her supple neck, which was still a little thin. + +She seemed to move just as her mother was made to speak, so natural, +noble, and simple were her gestures. A person felt a moral joy and +physical pleasure in seeing her walk, stir about, bend her head, or +lift her arm. "Ah! Muscade, how do you do, Muscade?" she repeated. + +Servigny shook her hand violently, as he would a man's, and said: +"Mademoiselle Yvette, my friend, Baron Saval." + +"Good evening, Monsieur. Are you always as tall as that?" + +Servigny replied in that bantering tone which he always used with +her, in order to conceal his mistrust and his uncertainty: + +"No, Mam'zelle. He has put on his greatest dimensions to please your +mother, who loves a colossus." + +And the young girl remarked with a comic seriousness: "Very well But +when you come to see me you must diminish a little if you please. I +prefer the medium height. Now Muscade has just the proportions which +I like." + +And she gave her hand to the newcomer. Then she asked: "Do you +dance, Muscade? Come, let us waltz." Without replying, with a quick +movement, passionately, Servigny clasped her waist and they +disappeared with the fury of a whirlwind. + +They danced more rapidly than any of the others, whirled and +whirled, and turned madly, so close together that they seemed but +one, and with the form erect, the legs almost motionless, as if some +invisible mechanism, concealed beneath their feet, caused them to +twirl. They appeared tireless. The other dancers stopped from time +to time. They still danced on, alone. They seemed not to know where +they were nor what they were doing, as if, they had gone far away +from the ball, in an ecstasy. The musicians continued to play, with +their looks fixed upon this mad couple; all the guests gazed at +them, and when finally they did stop dancing, everyone applauded +them. + +She was a little flushed, with strange eyes, ardent and timid, less +daring than a moment before, troubled eyes, blue, yet with a pupil +so black that they seemed hardly natural. Servigny appeared giddy. +He leaned against a door to regain his composure. + +"You have no head, my poor Muscade, I am steadier than you," said +Yvette to Servigny. He smiled nervously, and devoured her with a +look. His animal feelings revealed themselves in his eyes and in the +curl of his lips. She stood beside him looking down, and her bosom +rose and fell in short gasps as he looked at her. + +Then she said softly: "Really, there are times when you are like a +tiger about to spring upon his prey. Come, give me your arm, and let +us find your friend." + +Silently he offered her his arm and they went down the long drawing-room +together. + +Saval was not alone, for the Marquise Obardi had rejoined him. She +conversed with him on ordinary and fashionable subjects with a +seductiveness in her tones which intoxicated him. And, looking at +her with his mental eye, it seemed to him that her lips, uttered +words far different from those which they formed. When she saw +Servigny her face immediately lighted up, and turning toward him she +said: + +"You know, my dear Duke, that I have just leased a villa at Bougival +for two months, and I count upon your coming to see me there, and +upon your friend also. Listen. We take possession next Monday, and +shall expect both of you to dinner the following Saturday. We shall +keep you over Sunday." + +Perfectly serene and tranquil Yvette smiled, saying with a decision +which swept away hesitation on his part: + +"Of course Muscade will come to dinner on Saturday. We have only to +ask him, for he and I intend to commit a lot of follies in the +country." + +He thought he divined the birth of a promise in her smile, and in +her voice he heard what he thought was invitation. + +Then the Marquise turned her big, black eyes upon Saval: "And you +will, of course, come, Baron?" + +With a smile that forbade doubt, he bent toward her, saying, "I +shall be only too charmed, Madame." + +Then Yvette murmured with malice that was either naive or +traitorous: "We will set all the world by the ears down there, won't +we, Muscade, and make my regiment of admirers fairly mad." And with +a look, she pointed out a group of men who were looking at them from +a little distance. + +Said Servigny to her: "As many follies as YOU may please, +Mam'zelle." + +In speaking to Yvette, Servigny never used the word "Mademoiselle," +by reason of his close and long intimacy with her. + +Then Saval asked: "Why does Mademoiselle always call my friend +Servigny 'Muscade'?" + +Yvette assumed a very frank air and said: + +"I will tell you: It is because he always slips through my hands. +Now I think I have him, and then I find I have not." + +The Marquise, with her eyes upon Saval, arid evidently preoccupied, +said in a careless tone: "You children are very funny." + +But Yvette bridled up: "I do not intend to be funny; I am simply +frank. Muscade pleases me, and is always deserting me, and that is +what annoys me." + +Servigny bowed profoundly, saying: "I will never leave you any more, +Mam'zelle, neither day nor night." She made a gesture of horror: + +"My goodness! no--what do you mean? You are all right during the +day, but at night you might embarrass me." + +With an air of impertinence he asked: "And why?" + +Yvette responded calmly and audaciously, "Because you would not look +well en deshabille." + +The Marquise, without appearing at all disturbed, said: "What +extraordinary subjects for conversation. One would think that you +were not at all ignorant of such things." + +And Servigny jokingly added: "That is also my opinion, Marquise." + +Yvette turned her eyes upon him, and in a haughty, yet wounded, tone +said: "You are becoming very vulgar--just as you have been several +times lately." And turning quickly she appealed to an individual +standing by: + +"Chevalier, come and defend me from insult." + +A thin, brown man, with an easy carriage, came forward. + +"Who is the culprit?" said he, with a constrained smile. + +Yvette pointed out Servigny with a nod of her head: + +"There he is, but I like him better than I do you, because he is +less of a bore." + +The Chevalier Valreali bowed: + +"I do what I can, Mademoiselle. I may have less ability, but not +less devotion." + +A gentleman came forward, tall and stout, with gray whiskers, saying +in loud tones: "Mademoiselle Yvette, I am your most devoted slave." + +Yvette cried: "Ah, Monsieur de Belvigne." Then turning toward Saval, +she introduced him. + +"My last adorer--big, fat, rich, and stupid. Those are the kind I +like. A veritable drum-major--but of the table d'hote. But see, you +are still bigger than he. How shall I nickname you? Good! I have it. +I shall call you 'M. Colossus of Rhodes, Junior,' from the Colossus +who certainly was your father. But you two ought to have very +interesting things to say to each other up there, above the heads of +us all--so, by-bye." + +And she left them quickly, going to the orchestra to make the +musicians strike up a quadrille. + +Madame Obardi seemed preoccupied. In a soft voice she said to +Servigny: + +"You are always teasing her. You will warp her character and bring +out many bad traits." + +Servigny replies: "Why, haven't you finished her education?" + +She appeared not to understand, and continued talking in a friendly +way. But she noticed a solemn looking man, wearing a perfect +constellation of crosses and orders, standing near her, and she ran +to him: + +"Ah Prince, Prince, what good fortune!" + +Servigny took Saval's arm and drew him away: + +"That is the latest serious suitor, Prince Kravalow. Isn't she +superb?" + +"To my mind they are both superb. The mother would suffice for me +perfectly," answered Saval. + +Servigny nodded and said: "At your disposal, my dear boy." + +The dancers elbowed them aside, as they were forming for a +quadrille. + +"Now let us go and see the sharpers," said Servigny. And they +entered the gambling-room. + +Around each table stood a group of men, looking on. There was very +little conversation. At times the clink of gold coins, tossed upon +the green cloth or hastily seized, added its sound to the murmur of +the players, just as if the money was putting in its word among the +human voices. + +All the men were decorated with various orders, and odd ribbons, and +they all wore the same severe expression, with different +countenances. The especially distinguishing feature was the beard. + +The stiff American with his horseshoe, the haughty Englishman with +his fan-beard open on his breast, the Spaniard with his black fleece +reaching to the eyes, the Roman with that huge mustache which Italy +copied from Victor Emmanuel, the Austrian with his whiskers and +shaved chin, a Russian general whose lip seemed armed with two +twisted lances, and a Frenchman with a dainty mustache, displayed +the fancies of all the barbers in the world. + +"You won't join the game?" asked Servigny. + +"No, shall you?" + +"Not now. If you are ready to go, we will come back some quieter +day. There are too many people here to-day, and we can't do +anything." + +"Well, let us go." + +And they disappeared behind a door-curtain into the hall. As soon as +they were in the street Servigny asked: "Well, what do you think of +it?" + +"It certainly is interesting, but I fancy the women's side of it +more than the men's." + +"Indeed! Those women are the best of the tribe for us. Don't you +find that you breathe the odor of love among them, just as you scent +the perfumes at a hairdresser's?" + +"Really such houses are the place for one to go. And what experts, +my dear fellow! What artists! Have you ever eaten bakers' cakes? +They look well, but they amount to nothing. The man who bakes them +only knows how to make bread. Well! the love of a woman in ordinary +society always reminds me of these bake-shop trifles, while the love +you find at houses like the Marquise Obardi's, don't you see, is the +real sweetmeat. Oh! they know how to make cakes, these charming +pastry-cooks. Only you pay five sous, at their shops, for what costs +two sous elsewhere." + +"Who is the master of the house just now?" asked Saval. + +Servigny shrugged his shoulders, signifying his ignorance. + +"I don't know, the latest one known was an English peer, but he left +three months ago. At present she must live off the common herd, or +the gambling, perhaps, and on the gamblers, for she has her +caprices. But tell me, it is understood that we dine with her on +Saturday at Bougival, is it not? People are more free in the +country, and I shall succeed in finding out what ideas Yvette has in +her head!" + +"I should like nothing better," replied Saval. "I have nothing to do +that day." + +Passing down through the Champs-Elysees, under the steps they +disturbed a couple making love on one of the benches, and Servigny +muttered: "What foolishness and what a serious matter at the same +time! How commonplace and amusing love is, always the same and +always different! And the beggar who gives his sweetheart twenty +sous gets as much return as I would for ten thousand francs from +some Obardi, no younger and no less stupid perhaps than this +nondescript. What nonsense!" + +He said nothing for a few minutes; then he began again: "All the +same, it would be good to become Yvette's first lover. Oh! for that +I would give--" + +He did not add what he would give, and Saval said good night to him +as they reached the corner of the Rue Royale. + + + + +CHAPTER II. + +Bougival and Love + + +They had set the table on the veranda which overlooked the river. +The Printemps villa, leased by the Marquise Obardi, was halfway up +this hill, just at the corner of the Seine, which turned before the +garden wall, flowing toward Marly. + +Opposite the residence, the island of Croissy formed a horizon of +tall trees, a mass of verdure, and they could see a long stretch of +the big river as far as the floating cafe of La Grenouillere hidden +beneath the foliage. + +The evening fell, one of those calm evenings at the waterside, full +of color yet soft, one of those peaceful evenings which produces a +sensation of pleasure. No breath of air stirred the branches, no +shiver of wind ruffled the smooth clear surface of the Seine. It was +not too warm, it was mild--good weather to live in. The grateful +coolness of the banks of the Seine rose toward a serene sky. + +The sun disappeared behind the trees to shine on other lands, and +one seemed to absorb the serenity of the already sleeping earth, to +inhale, in the peace of space, the life of the infinite. + +As they left the drawing-room to seat themselves at the table +everyone was joyous. A softened gaiety filled their hearts, they +felt that it would be so delightful to dine there in the country, +with that great river and that twilight for a setting, breathing +that pure and fragrant air. + +The Marquise had taken Saval's arm, and Yvette, Servigny's. The four +were alone by themselves. The two women seemed entirely different +persons from what they were at Paris, especially Yvette. She talked +but little, and seemed languid and grave. + +Saval, hardly recognizing her in this frame of mind, asked her: +"What is the matter, Mademoiselle? I find you changed since last +week. You have become quite a serious person." + +"It is the country that does that for me," she replied. "I am not +the same, I feel queer; besides I am never two days alike. To-day I +have the air of a mad woman, and to-morrow shall be as grave as an +elegy. I change with the weather, I don't know why. You see, I am +capable of anything, according to the moment. There are days when I +would like to kill people,--not animals, I would never kill +animals,--but people, yes, and other days when I weep at a mere +thing. A lot of different ideas pass through my head. It depends, +too, a good deal on how I get up. Every morning, on waking, I can +tell just what I shall be in the evening. Perhaps it is our dreams +that settle it for us, and it depends on the book I have just read." + +She was clad in a white flannel suit which delicately enveloped her +in the floating softness of the material. Her bodice, with full +folds, suggested, without displaying and without restraining, her +free chest, which was firm and already ripe. And her superb neck +emerged from a froth of soft lace, bending with gentle movements, +fairer than her gown, a pilaster of flesh, bearing the heavy mass of +her golden hair. + +Servigny looked at her for a long time: "You are adorable this +evening, Mam'zelle," said he, "I wish I could always see you like +this." + +"Don't make a declaration, Muscade. I should take it seriously, and +that might cost you dear." + +The Marquise seemed happy, very happy. All in black, richly dressed +in a plain gown which showed her strong, full lines, a bit of red at +the bodice, a cincture of red carnations falling from her waist like +a chain, and fastened at the hips, and a red rose in her dark hair, +she carried in all her person something fervid,--in that simple +costume, in those flowers which seemed to bleed, in her look, in her +slow speech, in her peculiar gestures. + +Saval, too, appeared serious and absorbed. From time to time he +stroked his pointed beard, trimmed in the fashion of Henri III., and +seemed to be meditating on the most profound subjects. + +Nobody spoke for several minutes. Then as they were serving the +trout, Servigny remarked: + +"Silence is a good thing, at times. People are often nearer to each +other when they are keeping still than when they are talking. Isn't +that so, Marquise?" + +She turned a little toward him and answered: + +"It is quite true. It is so sweet to think together about agreeable +things." + +She raised her warm glance toward Saval, and they continued for some +seconds looking into each other's eyes. A slight, almost inaudible +movement took place beneath the table. + +Servigny resumed: "Mam'zelle Yvette, you will make me believe that +you are in love if you keep on being as good as that. Now, with whom +could you be in love? Let us think together, if you will; I put +aside the army of vulgar sighers. I'll only take the principal ones. +Is it Prince Kravalow?" + +At this name Yvette awoke: "My poor Muscade, can you think of such a +thing? Why, the Prince has the air of a Russian in a wax-figure +museum, who has won medals in a hairdressing competition." + +"Good! We'll drop the Prince. But you have noticed the Viscount +Pierre de Belvigne?" + +This time she began to laugh, and asked: "Can you imagine me hanging +to the neck of 'Raisine'?" She nicknamed him according to the day, +Raisine, Malvoisie, [Footnote: Preserved grapes and pears, malmsey,--a +poor wine.] Argenteuil, for she gave everybody nicknames. And she +would murmur to his face: "My dear little Pierre," or "My divine +Pedro, darling Pierrot, give your bow-wow's head to your dear little +girl, who wants to kiss it." + +"Scratch out number two. There still remains the Chevalier Valreali +whom the Marquise seems to favor," continued Servigny. + +Yvette regained all her gaiety: "'Teardrop'? Why he weeps like a +Magdalene. He goes to all the first-class funerals. I imagine myself +dead every time he looks at me." + +"That settles the third. So the lightning will strike Baron Saval, +here." + +"Monsieur the Colossus of Rhodes, Junior? No. He is too strong. It +would seem to me as if I were in love with the triumphal arch of +L'Etoile." + +"Then Mam'zelle, it is beyond doubt that you are in love with me, +for I am the only one of your adorers of whom we have not yet +spoken. I left myself for the last through modesty and through +discretion. It remains for me to thank you." + +She replied with happy grace: "In love with you, Muscade? Ah! no. I +like you, but I don't love you. Wait--I--I don't want to discourage +you. I don't love you--yet. You have a chance--perhaps. Persevere, +Muscade, be devoted, ardent, submissive, full of little attentions +and considerations, docile to my slightest caprices, ready for +anything to please me, and we shall see--later." + +"But, Mam'zelle, I would rather furnish all you demand afterward +than beforehand, if it be the same to you." + +She asked with an artless air: "After what, Muscade?" + +"After you have shown me that you love me, by Jove!" + +"Well, act as if I loved you, and believe it, if you wish." + +"But you--" + +"Be quiet, Muscade; enough on the subject." + +The sun had sunk behind the island, but the whole sky still flamed +like a fire, and the peaceful water of the river seemed changed to +blood. The reflections from the horizon reddened houses, objects, +and persons. The scarlet rose in the Marquise's hair had the +appearance of a splash of purple fallen from the clouds upon her +head. + +As Yvette looked on from her end, the Marquise rested, as if by +carelessness, her bare hand upon Saval's hand; but the young girl +made a motion and the Marquise withdrew her hand with a quick +gesture, pretending to readjust something in the folds of her +corsage. + +Servigny, who was looking at them, said: + +"If you like, Mam'zelle, we will take a walk on the island after +dinner." + +"Oh, yes! That will be delightful. We will go all alone, won't we, +Muscade?" + +"Yes, all alone, Mam'zelle!" + +The vast silence of the horizon, the sleepy tranquillity of the +evening captured heart, body, and voice. There are peaceful, chosen +hours when it becomes almost impossible to talk. + +The servants waited on them noiselessly. The firmamental +conflagration faded away, and the soft night spread its shadows over +the earth. + +"Are you going to stay long in this place?" asked Saval. + +And the Marquise answered, dwelling on each word: "Yes, as long as I +am happy." + +As it was too dark to see, lamps were brought. They cast upon the +table a strange, pale gleam beneath the great obscurity of space; +and very soon a shower of gnats fell upon the tablecloth--the tiny +gnats which immolate themselves by passing over the glass chimneys, +and, with wings and legs scorched, powder the table linen, dishes, +and cups with a kind of gray and hopping dust. + +They swallowed them in the wine, they ate them in the sauces, they +saw them moving on the bread, and had their faces and hands tickled +by the countless swarm of these tiny insects. They were continually +compelled to throw away the beverages, to cover the plates, and +while eating to shield the food with infinite precautions. + +It amused Yvette. Servigny took care to shelter what she bore to her +mouth, to guard her glass, to hold his handkerchief stretched out +over her head like a roof. But the Marquise, disgusted, became +nervous, and the end of the dinner came quickly. Yvette, who had not +forgotten Servigny's proposition, said to him: + +"Now we'll go to the island." + +Her mother cautioned her in a languid tone: "Don't be late, above +all things. We will escort you to the ferry." + +And they started in couples, the young girl and her admirer walking +in front, on the road to the shore. They heard, behind them, the +Marquise and Saval speaking very rapidly in low tones. All was dark, +with a thick, inky darkness. But the sky swarmed with grains of +fire, and seemed to sow them in the river, for the black water was +flecked with stars. + +The frogs were croaking monotonously upon the bank, and numerous +nightingales were uttering their low, sweet song in the calm and +peaceful air. + +Yvette suddenly said: "Gracious! They are not walking behind us any +more, where are they?" And she called out: "Mamma!" No voice +replied. The young girl resumed: "At any rate, they can't be far +away, for I heard them just now." + +Servigny murmured: "They must have gone back. Your mother was cold, +perhaps." And he drew her along. + +Before them a light gleamed. It was the tavern of Martinet, +restaurant-keeper and fisherman. At their call a man came out of the +house, and they got into a large boat which was moored among the +weeds of the shore. + +The ferryman took his oars, and the unwieldy barge, as it advanced, +disturbed the sleeping stars upon the water and set them into a mad +dance, which gradually calmed down after they had passed. They +touched the other shore and disembarked beneath the great trees. A +cool freshness of damp earth permeated the air under the lofty and +clustered branches, where there seemed to be as many nightingales as +there were leaves. A distant piano began to play a popular waltz. + +Servigny took Yvette's arm and very gently slipped his hand around +her waist and gave her a slight hug. + +"What are you thinking about?" he said. + +"I? About nothing at all. I am very happy!" + +"Then you don't love me?" + +"Oh, yes, Muscade, I love you, I love you a great deal; only leave +me alone. It is too beautiful here to listen to your nonsense." + +He drew her toward him, although she tried, by little pushes, to +extricate herself, and through her soft flannel gown he felt the +warmth of her flesh. He stammered: + +"Yvette!" + +"Well, what?" + +"I do love you!" + +"But you are not in earnest, Muscade." + +"Oh, yes I am. I have loved you for a long time." + +She continually kept trying to separate herself from him, trying to +release the arm crushed between their bodies. They walked with +difficulty, trammeled by this bond and by these movements, and went +zigzagging along like drunken folk. + +He knew not what to say to her, feeling that he could not talk to a +young girl as he would to a woman. He was perplexed, thinking what +he ought to do, wondering if she consented or did not understand, +and curbing his spirit to find just the right, tender, and decisive +words. He kept saying every second: + +"Yvette! Speak! Yvette!" + +Then, suddenly, risking all, he kissed her on the cheek. She gave a +little start aside, and said with a vexed air: + +"Oh! you are absurd. Are you going to let me alone?" + +The tone of her voice did not at all reveal her thoughts nor her +wishes; and, not seeing her too angry, he applied his lips to the +beginning of her neck, just beneath the golden hair, that charming +spot which he had so often coveted. + +Then she made great efforts to free herself. But he held her +strongly, and placing his other hand on her shoulder, he compelled +her to turn her head toward him and gave her a fond, passionate +kiss, squarely on the mouth. + +She slipped from his arms by a quick undulation of the body, and, +free from his grasp, she disappeared into the darkness with a great +swishing of skirts, like the whir of a bird as it flies away. + +He stood motionless a moment, surprised by her suppleness and her +disappearance, then hearing nothing, he called gently: "Yvette!" + +She did not reply. He began to walk forward, peering through the +shadows, looking in the underbrush for the white spot her dress +should make. All was dark. He cried out more loudly: + +"Mam'zelle Yvette! Mam'zelle Yvette!" + +Nothing stirred. He stopped and listened. The whole island was +still; there was scarcely a rustle of leaves over his head. The +frogs alone continued their deep croakings on the shores. Then he +wandered from thicket to thicket, going where the banks were steep +and bushy and returning to places where they were flat and bare as a +dead man's arm. He proceeded until he was opposite Bougival and +reached the establishment of La Grenouillere, groping the clumps of +trees, calling out continually: + +"Mam'zelle Yvette, where are you? Answer. It is ridiculous! Come, +answer! Don't keep me hunting like this." + +A distant clock began to strike. He counted the hours: twelve. He +had been searching through the island for two hours. Then he thought +that perhaps she had gone home; and he went back very anxiously, +this time by way of the bridge. A servant dozing on a chair was +waiting in the hall. + +Servigny awakened him and asked: "Is it long since Mademoiselle +Yvette came home? I left her at the foot of the place because I had +a call to make." + +And the valet replied: "Oh! yes, Monsieur, Mademoiselle came in +before ten o'clock." + +He proceeded to his room and went to bed. But he could not close his +eyes. That stolen kiss had stirred him to the soul. He kept +wondering what she thought and what she knew. How pretty and +attractive she was! + +His desires, somewhat wearied by the life he led, by all his +procession of sweethearts, by all his explorations in the kingdom of +love, awoke before this singular child, so fresh, irritating, and +inexplicable. He heard one o'clock strike, then two. He could not +sleep at all. He was warm, he felt his heart beat and his temples +throb, and he rose to open the window. A breath of fresh air came +in, which he inhaled deeply. The thick darkness was silent, black, +motionless. But suddenly he perceived before him, in the shadows of +the garden, a shining point; it seemed a little red coal. + +"Well, a cigar!" he said to himself. "It must be Saval," and he +called softly: "Leon!" + +"Is it you, Jean?" + +"Yes. Wait. I'll come down." He dressed, went out, and rejoining his +friend who was smoking astride an iron chair, inquired: "What are +you doing here at this hour?" + +"I am resting," Saval replied. And he began to laugh. Servigny +pressed his hand: "My compliments, my dear fellow. And as for me, +I--am making a fool of myself." + +"You mean--" + +"I mean that--Yvette and her mother do not resemble each other." + +"What has happened? Tell me." + +Servigny recounted his attempts and their failure. Then he resumed: + +"Decidedly, that little girl worries me. Fancy my not being able to +sleep! What a queer thing a girl is! She appears to be as simple as +anything, and yet you know nothing about her. A woman who has lived +and loved, who knows life, can be quickly understood. But when it +comes to a young virgin, on the contrary, no one can guess anything +about her. At heart I begin to think that she is making sport of +me." + +Saval tilted his chair. He said, very slowly: "Take care, my dear +fellow, she will lead you to marriage. Remember those other +illustrious examples. It was just by this same process that +Mademoiselle de Montijo, who was at least of good family, became +empress. Don't play Napoleon." + +Servigny murmured: "As for that, fear nothing. I am neither a +simpleton nor an emperor. A man must be either one or the other to +make such a move as that. But tell me, are you sleepy?" + +"Not a bit." + +"Will you take a walk along the river?" + +"Gladly." + +They opened the iron gate and began to walk along the river bank +toward Marly. It was the quiet hour which precedes dawn, the hour of +deep sleep, of complete rest, of profound peacefulness. Even the +gentle sounds of the night were hushed. The nightingales sang no +longer; the frogs had finished their hubbub; some kind of an animal +only, probably a bird, was making somewhere a kind of sawing sound, +feeble, monotonous, and regular as a machine. Servigny, who had +moments of poetry, and of philosophy too, suddenly remarked: "Now +this girl completely puzzles me. In arithmetic, one and one make +two. In love one and one ought to make one but they make two just +the same. Have you ever felt that? That need of absorbing a woman in +yourself or disappearing in her? I am not speaking of the animal +embrace, but of that moral and mental eagerness to be but one with a +being, to open to her all one's heart and soul, and to fathom her +thoughts to the depths." + +"And yet you can never lay bare all the fluctuations of her wishes, +desires, and opinions. You can never guess, even slightly, all the +unknown currents, all the mystery of a soul that seems so near, a +soul hidden behind two eyes that look at you, clear as water, +transparent as if there were nothing beneath a soul which talks to +you by a beloved mouth, which seems your very own, so greatly do you +desire it; a soul which throws you by words its thoughts, one by +one, and which, nevertheless, remains further away from you than +those stars are from each other, and more impenetrable. Isn't it +queer, all that?" + +"I don't, ask so much," Saval rejoined. "I don't look behind the +eyes. I care little for the contents, but much for the vessel." And +Servigny replied: "What a singular person Yvette is! How will she +receive me this morning?" + +As they reached the works at Marly they perceived that the sky was +brightening. The cocks began to crow in the poultry-yards. A bird +twittered in a park at the left, ceaselessly reiterating a tender +little theme. + +"It is time to go back," said Saval. + +They returned, and as Servigny entered his room, he saw the horizon +all pink through his open windows. + +Then he shut the blinds, drew the thick, heavy curtains, went back +to bed and fell asleep. He dreamed of Yvette all through his +slumber. An odd noise awoke him. He sat on the side of the bed and +listened, but heard nothing further. Then suddenly there was a +crackling against the blinds, like falling hail. He jumped from the +bed, ran to the window, opened it, and saw Yvette standing in the +path and throwing handfuls of gravel at his face. She was clad in +pink, with a wide-brimmed straw hat ornamented with a mousquetaire +plume, and was laughing mischievously. + +"Well! Muscade, are you asleep? What could you have been doing all +night to make you wake so late? Have you been seeking adventures, my +poor Muscade?" + +He was dazzled by the bright daylight striking him full in the eyes, +still overwhelmed with fatigue, and surprised at the jesting +tranquillity of the young girl. + +"I'll be down in a second, Mam'zelle," he answered. "Just time to +splash my face with water, and I will join you." + +"Hurry," she cried, "it is ten o'clock, and besides I have a great plan +to unfold to you, a plot we are going to concoct. You know that we +breakfast at eleven." + +He found her seated on a bench, with a book in her lap, some novel +or other. She took his arm in a familiar and friendly way, with a +frank and gay manner, as if nothing had happened the night before, +and drew him toward the end of the garden. + +"This is my plan," she said. "We will disobey mamma, and you shall +take me presently to La Grenouillere restaurant. I want to see it. +Mamma says that decent women cannot go to the place. Now it is all +the same to me whether persons can go there or cannot. You'll take +me, won't you, Muscade? And we will have a great time--with the +boatmen." + +She exhaled a delicious fragrance, although he could not exactly +define just what light and vague odor enveloped her. It was not one +of those heavy perfumes of her mother, but a discreet breath in +which he fancied he could detect a suspicion of iris powder, and +perhaps a suggestion of vervain. + +Whence emanated that indiscernible perfume? From her dress, her +hair, or her skin? He puzzled over this, and as he was speaking very +close to her, he received full in the face her fresh breath, which +seemed to him just as delicious to inhale. + +Then he thought that this evasive perfume which he was trying to +recognize was perhaps only evoked by her charming eyes, and was +merely a sort of deceptive emanation of her young and alluring +grace. + +"That is agreed, isn't it, Muscade? As it will be very warm after +breakfast, mamma will not go out. She always feels the heat very +much. We will leave her with your friend, and you shall take me. +They will think that we have gone into the forest. If you knew how +much it will amuse me to see La Grenouillere!" + +They reached the iron gate opposite the Seine. A flood of sunshine +fell upon the slumberous, shining river. A slight heat-mist rose +from it, a sort of haze of evaporated water, which spread over the +surface of the stream a faint gleaming vapor. + +From time to time, boats passed by, a quick yawl or a heavy passage +boat, and short or long whistles could be heard, those of the trains +which every Sunday poured the citizens of Paris into the suburbs, +and those of the steamboats signaling their approach to pass the +locks at Marly. + +But a tiny bell sounded. Breakfast was announced, and they went back +into the house. The repast was a silent one. A heavy July noon +overwhelmed the earth, and oppressed humanity. The heat seemed +thick, and paralyzed both mind and body. The sluggish words would +not leave the lips, and all motion seemed laborious, as if the air +had become a resisting medium, difficult to traverse. Only Yvette, +although silent, seemed animated and nervous with impatience. As +soon as they had finished the last course she said: + +"If we were to go for a walk in the forest, it would be deliciously +cool under the trees." + +The Marquise murmured with a listless air: "Are you mad? Does anyone +go out in such weather?" + +And the young girl, delighted, rejoined: "Oh, well! We will leave +the Baron to keep you company. Muscade and I will climb the hill and +sit on the grass and read." + +And turning toward Servigny she asked: "That is understood?" + +"At your service, Mam'zelle," he replied. + +Yvette ran to get her hat. The Marquise shrugged her shoulders with +a sigh. "She certainly is mad." she said. + +Then with an indolence in her amorous and lazy gestures, she gave +her pretty white hand to the Baron, who kissed it softly. Yvette and +Servigny started. They went along the river, crossed the bridge and +went on to the island, and then seated themselves on the bank, +beneath the willows, for it was too soon to go to La Grenouillere. + +The young girl at once drew a book from her pocket and smilingly +said: "Muscade, you are going to read to me." And she handed him the +volume. + +He made a motion as if of fright. "I, Mam'zelle? I don't know how to +read!" + +She replied with gravity: "Come, no excuses, no objections; you are +a fine suitor, you! All for nothing, is that it? Is that your +motto?" + +He took the book, opened it, and was astonished. It was a treatise +on entomology. A history of ants by an English author. And as he +remained inert, believing that he was making sport of her, she said +with impatience: "Well, read!" + +"Is it a wager, or just a simple fad?" he asked. + +"No, my dear. I saw that book in a shop. They told me that it was +the best authority on ants and I thought that it would be +interesting to learn about the life of these little insects while +you see them running over the grass; so read, if you please." + +She stretched herself flat upon the grass, her elbows resting upon +the ground, her head between her hands, her eyes fixed upon the +ground. He began to read as follows: + +"The anthropoid apes are undoubtedly the animals which approach +nearest to man by their anatomical structure, but if we consider the +habits of the ants, their organization into societies, their vast +communities, the houses and roads that they construct, their custom +of domesticating animals, and sometimes even of making slaves of +them, we are compelled to admit that they have the right to claim a +place near to man in the scale of intelligence." + +He continued in a monotonous voice, stopping from time to time to +ask: "Isn't that enough?" + +She shook her head, and having caught an ant on the end of a severed +blade of grass, she amused herself by making it go from one end to +the other of the sprig, which she tipped up whenever the insect +reached one of the ends. She listened with mute and contented +attention to all the wonderful details of the life of these frail +creatures: their subterranean homes; the manner in which they seize, +shut up, and feed plant-lice to drink the sweet milk which they +secrete, as we keep cows in our barns; their custom of domesticating +little blind insects which clean the anthills, and of going to war +to capture slaves who will take care of their victors with such +tender solicitude that the latter even lose the habit of feeding +themselves. + +And little by little, as if a maternal tenderness had sprung up in +her heart for the poor insect which was so tiny and so intelligent, +Yvette made it climb on her finger, looking at it with a moved +expression, almost wanting to embrace it. + +And as Servigny read of the way in which they live in communities, +and play games of strength and skill among themselves, the young +girl grew enthusiastic and sought to kiss the insect which escaped +her and began to crawl over her face. Then she uttered a piercing +cry, as if she had been threatened by a terrible danger, and with +frantic gestures tried to brush it off her face. With a loud laugh +Servigny caught it near her tresses and imprinted on the spot where +he had seized it a long kiss without Yvette withdrawing her +forehead. + +Then she exclaimed as she rose: "That is better than a novel. Now +let us go to La Grenouillere." + +They reached that part of the island which is set out as a park and +shaded with great trees. Couples were strolling beneath the lofty +foliage along the Seine, where the boats were gliding by. + +The boats were filled with young people, working-girls and their +sweethearts, the latter in their shirt-sleeves, with coats on their +arms, tall hats tipped back, and a jaded look. There were tradesmen +with their families, the women dressed in their best and the +children flocking like little chicks about their parents. A distant, +continuous sound of voices, a heavy, scolding clamor announced the +proximity of the establishment so dear to the boatmen. + +Suddenly they saw it. It was a huge boat, roofed over, moored to the +bank. On board were many men and women drinking at tables, or else +standing up, shouting, singing, bandying words, dancing, capering, +to the sound of a piano which was groaning--out of tune and rattling +as an old kettle. + +Two tall, russet-haired, half-tipsy girls, with red lips, were +talking coarsely. Others were dancing madly with young fellows half +clad, dressed like jockeys, in linen trousers and colored caps. The +odors of a crowd and of rice-powder were noticeable. + +The drinkers around the tables were swallowing white, red, yellow, +and green liquids, and vociferating at the top of their lungs, +feeling as it were, the necessity of making a noise, a brutal need +of having their ears and brains filled with uproar. Now and then a +swimmer, standing on the roof, dived into the water, splashing the +nearest guests, who yelled like savages. + +On the stream passed the flotillas of light craft, long, slender +wherries, swiftly rowed by bare-armed oarsmen, whose muscles played +beneath their bronzed skin. The women in the boats, in blue or red +flannel skirts, with umbrellas, red or blue, opened over their heads +and gleaming under the burning sun, leaned back in their chairs at +the stern of the boats, and seemed almost to float upon the water, +in motionless and slumberous pose. + +The heavier boats proceeded slowly, crowded with people. A +collegian, wanting to show off, rowed like a windmill against all +the other boats, bringing the curses of their oarsmen down upon his +head, and disappearing in dismay after almost drowning two swimmers, +followed by the shouts of the crowd thronging in the great floating +cafe. + +Yvette, radiantly happy, taking Servigny's arm, went into the midst +of this noisy mob. She seemed to enjoy the crowding, and stared at +the girls with a calm and gracious glance. + +"Look at that one, Muscade," she said. "What pretty hair she has! +They seem to be having such fun!" + +As the pianist, a boatman dressed in red with a huge straw hat, +began a waltz, Yvette grasped her companion and they danced so long +and madly that everybody looked at them. The guests, standing on the +tables, kept time with their feet; others threw glasses, and the +musician, seeming to go mad, struck the ivory keys with great bangs; +swaying his whole body and swinging his head covered with that +immense hat. Suddenly he stopped and, slipping to the deck, lay +flat, beneath his head-gear, as if dead with fatigue. A loud laugh +arose and everybody applauded. + +Four friends rushed forward, as they do in cases of accident, and +lifting up their comrade, they carried him by his four limbs, after +carefully placing his great hat on his stomach. A joker following +them intoned the "De Profundis," and a procession formed and +threaded the paths of the island, guests and strollers and everyone +they met falling into line. + +Yvette darted forward, delighted, laughing with her whole heart, +chatting with everybody, stirred by the movement and the noise. The +young men gazed at her, crowded against her, seeming to devour her +with their glances; and Servigny began to fear lest the adventure +should terminate badly. + +The procession still kept on its way; hastening its step; for the +four bearers had taken a quick pace, followed by the yelling crowd. +But suddenly, they turned toward the shore, stopped short as they +reached the bank, swung their comrade for a moment, and then, all +four acting together, flung him into the river. + +A great shout of joy rang out from all mouths, while the poor +pianist, bewildered, paddled, swore, coughed, and spluttered, and +though sticking in the mud managed to get to the shore. His hat +which floated down the stream was picked up by a boat. Yvette danced +with joy, clapping and repeating: "Oh! Muscade, what fun! what fun!" + +Servigny looked on, having become serious, a little disturbed, a +little chilled to see her so much at her ease in this common place. +A sort of instinct revolted in him, that instinct of the proper, +which a well-born man always preserves even when he casts himself +loose, that instinct which avoids too common familiarities and too +degrading contacts. Astonished, he muttered to himself: + +"Egad! Then YOU are at home here, are you?" And he wanted to speak +familiarly to her, as a man does to certain women the first time he +meets them. He no longer distinguished her from the russet-haired, +hoarse-voiced creatures who brushed against them. The language of +the crowd was not at all choice, but nobody seemed shocked or +surprised. Yvette did not even appear to notice it. + +"Muscade, I want to go in bathing," she said. "We'll go into the +river together." + +"At your service," said he. + +They went to the bath-office to get bathing-suits. She was ready the +first, and stood on the bank waiting for him, smiling on everyone +who looked at her. Then side by side they went into the luke-warm +water. + +She swam with pleasure, with intoxication, caressed by the wave, +throbbing with a sensual delight, raising herself at each stroke as +if she were going to spring from the water. He followed her with +difficulty, breathless, and vexed to feel himself mediocre at the +sport. + +But she slackened her pace, and then, turning over suddenly, she +floated, with her arms folded and her eyes wide open to the blue +sky. He observed, thus stretched out on the surface of the river, +the undulating lines of her form, her firm neck and shoulders, her +slightly submerged hips, and bare ankles, gleaming in the water, and +the tiny foot that emerged. + +He saw her thus exhibiting herself, as if she were doing it on +purpose, to lure him on, or again to make sport of him. And he began +to long for her with a passionate ardor and an exasperating +impatience. Suddenly she turned, looked at him, and burst into +laughter. + +"You have a fine head," she said. + +He was annoyed at this bantering, possessed with the anger of a +baffled lover. Then yielding brusquely to a half felt desire for +retaliation, a desire to avenge himself, to wound her, he said: + +"Well, does this sort of life suit you?" + +She asked with an artless air: "What do you mean?" + +"Oh, come, don't make game of me. You know well enough what I mean!" + +"No, I don't, on my word of honor." + +"Oh, let us stop this comedy! Will you or will you not?" + +"I do not understand you." + +"You are not as stupid as all that; besides I told you last night." + +"Told me what? I have forgotten!" + +"That I love you." + +"You?" + +"Yes." + +"What nonsense!" + +"I swear it." + +"Then prove it." + +"That is all I ask." + +"What is?" + +"To prove it." + +"Well, do so." + +"But you did not say so last night." + +"You did not ask anything." + +"What absurdity!" + +"And besides it is not to me to whom you should make your +proposition." + +"To whom, then?" + +"Why, to mamma, of course." + +He burst into laughter. "To your mother. No, that is too much!" + +She had suddenly become very grave, and looking him straight in the +eyes, said: + +"Listen, Muscade, if you really love me enough to marry me, speak to +mamma first, and I will answer you afterward." + +He thought she was still making sport of him, and angrily replied: +"Mam'zelle, you must be taking me for somebody else." + +She kept looking at him with her soft, clear eyes. She hesitated and +then said: + +"I don't understand you at all." + +Then he answered quickly with somewhat of ill nature in his voice: + +"Come now, Yvette, let us cease this absurd comedy, which has +already lasted too long. You are playing the part of a simple little +girl, and the role does not fit you at all, believe me. You know +perfectly well that there can be no question of marriage between us, +but merely of love. I have told you that I love you. It is the +truth. I repeat, I love you. Don't pretend any longer not to +understand me, and don't treat me as if I were a fool." + +They were face to face, treading water, merely moving their hands a +little, to steady themselves. She was still for a moment, as if she +could not make out the meaning of his words, then she suddenly +blushed up to the roots of her hair. Her whole face grew purple from +her neck to her ears, which became almost violet, and without +answering a word she fled toward the shore, swimming with all her +strength with hasty strokes. He could not keep up with her and +panted with fatigue as he followed. He saw her leave the water, pick +up her cloak, and go to her dressing-room without looking back. + +It took him a long time to dress, very much perplexed as to what he +ought to do, puzzled over what he should say to her, and wondering +whether he ought to excuse himself or persevere. When he was ready, +she had gone away all alone. He went back slowly, anxious and +disturbed. + +The Marquise was strolling, on Saval's arm, in the circular path +around the lawn. As she observed Servigny, she said, with that +careless air which she had maintained since the night before. + +"I told you not to go out in such hot weather. And now Yvette has +come back almost with a sun stroke. She has gone to lie down. She +was as red as a poppy, the poor child, and she has a frightful +headache. You must have been walking in the full sunlight, or you +must have done something foolish. You are as unreasonable as she." + +The young girl did not come down to dinner. When they wanted to send +her up something to eat she called through the door that she was not +hungry, for she had shut herself in, and she begged that they would +leave her undisturbed. The two young men left by the ten o'clock +train, promising to return the following Thursday, and the Marquise +seated herself at the open window to dream, hearing in the distance +the orchestra of the boatmen's ball, with its sprightly music, in +the deep and solemn silence of the night. + +Swayed by love as a person is moved by a fondness for horses or +boating, she was subject to sudden tendernesses which crept over her +like a disease. These passions took possession of her suddenly, +penetrated her entire being, maddened her, enervated or overwhelmed +her, in measure as they were of an exalted, violent, dramatic, or +sentimental character. + +She was one of those women who are created to love and to be loved. +Starting from a very low station in life, she had risen in her +adventurous career, acting instinctively, with inborn cleverness, +accepting money and kisses, naturally, without distinguishing +between them, employing her extraordinary ability in an unthinking +and simple fashion. From all her experiences she had never known +either a genuine tenderness or a great repulsion. + +She had had various friends, for she had to live, as in traveling a +person eats at many tables. But occasionally her heart took fire, +and she really fell in love, which state lasted for some weeks or +months, according to conditions. These were the delicious moments of +her life, for she loved with all her soul. She cast herself upon +love as a person throws himself into the river to drown himself, and +let herself be carried away, ready to die, if need be, intoxicated, +maddened, infinitely happy. She imagined each time that she never +had experienced anything like such an attachment, and she would have +been greatly astonished if some one had told her of how many men she +had dreamed whole nights through, looking at the stars. + +Saval had captivated her, body and soul. She dreamed of him, lulled +by his face and his memory, in the calm exaltation of consummated +love, of present and certain happiness. + +A sound behind her made her turn around. Yvette had just entered, +still in her daytime dress, but pale, with eyes glittering, as +sometimes is the case after some great fatigue. She leaned on the +sill of the open window, facing her mother. + +"I want to speak to you," she said. + +The Marquise looked at her in astonishment. She loved her like an +egotistical mother, proud of her beauty, as a person is proud of a +fortune, too pretty still herself to become jealous, too indifferent +to plan the schemes with which they charged her, too clever, +nevertheless, not to have full consciousness of her daughter's +value. + +"I am listening, my child," she said; "what is it?" + +Yvette gave her a piercing look, as if to read the depths of her +soul and to seize all the sensations which her words might awake. + +"It is this. Something strange has just happened." + +"What can it be?" + +"Monsieur de Servigny has told me that he loves me." + +The Marquise, disturbed, waited a moment, and, as Yvette said +nothing more, she asked: + +"How did he tell you that? Explain yourself!" + +Then the young girl, sitting at her mother's feet, in a coaxing +attitude common with her, and clasping her hands, added: + +"He asked me to marry him." + +Madame Obardi made a sudden gesture of stupefaction and cried: + +"Servigny! Why! you are crazy!" + +Yvette had not taken her eyes off her mother's face, watching her +thoughts and her surprise. She asked with a serious voice: + +"Why am I crazy? Why should not Monsieur de Servigny marry me?" + +The Marquise, embarrassed, stammered: + +"You are mistaken, it is not possible. You either did not hear or +did not understand. Monsieur de Servigny is too rich for you, and +too much of a Parisian to marry." Yvette rose softly. She added: +"But if he loves me as he says he does, mamma?" + +Her mother replied, with some impatience: "I thought you big enough +and wise enough not to have such ideas. Servigny is a man-about-town +and an egotist. He will never marry anyone but a woman of his set +and his fortune. If he asked you in marriage, it is only that he +wants--" + +The Marquise, incapable of expressing her meaning, was silent for a +moment, then continued: "Come now, leave me alone and go to bed." + +And the young girl, as if she had learned what she sought to find +out, answered in a docile voice: "Yes, mamma!" + +She kissed her mother on the forehead and withdrew with a calm step. +As she reached the door, the Marquise called out: "And your +sunstroke?" she said. + +"I did not have one at all. It was that which caused everything." + +The Marquise added: "We will not speak of it again. Only don't stay +alone with him for some time from now, and be very sure that he will +never marry you, do you understand, and that he merely means +to--compromise you." + +She could not find better words to express her thought. Yvette went +to her room. Madame Obardi began to dream. Living for years in an +opulent and loving repose, she had carefully put aside all +reflections which might annoy or sadden her. Never had she been +willing to ask herself the question.--What would become of Yvette? +It would be soon enough to think about the difficulties when they +arrived. She well knew, from her experience, that her daughter could +not marry a man who was rich and of good society, excepting by a +totally improbable chance, by one of those surprises of love which +place adventuresses on thrones. + +She had not considered it, furthermore, being too much occupied with +herself to make any plans which did not directly concern herself. + +Yvette would do as her mother, undoubtedly. She would lead a gay +life. Why not? But the Marquise had never dared ask when, or how. +That would all come about in time. + +And now her daughter, all of a sudden, without warning, had asked +one of those questions which could not be answered, forcing her to +take an attitude in an affair, so delicate, so dangerous in every +respect, and so disturbing to the conscience which a woman is +expected to show in matters concerning her daughter. + +Sometimes nodding but never asleep, she had too much natural +astuteness to be deceived a minute about Servigny's intentions, for +she knew men by experience, and especially men of that set. So at +the first words uttered by Yvette, she had cried almost in spite of +herself: "Servigny, marry you? You are crazy!" + +How had he come to employ that old method, he, that sharp man of the +world? What would he do now? And she, the young girl, how should she +warn her more clearly and even forbid her, for she might make great +mistakes. Would anyone have believed that this big girl had remained +so artless, so ill informed, so guileless? And the Marquise, greatly +perplexed and already wearied with her reflections, endeavored to +make up her mind what to do without finding a solution of the +problem, for the situation seemed to her very embarrassing. Worn out +with this worry, she thought: + +"I will watch them more clearly, I will act according to +circumstances. If necessary, I will speak to Servigny, who is sharp +and will take a hint." + +She did not think out what she should say to him, nor what he would +answer, nor what sort of an understanding could be established +between them, but happy at being relieved of this care without +having had to make a decision, she resumed her dreams of the +handsome Saval, and turning toward that misty light which hovers +over Paris, she threw kisses with both hands toward the great city, +rapid kisses which she tossed into the darkness, one after the +other, without counting; and, very low, as if she were talking to +Saval still, she murmured: + +"I love you, I love you!" + + + + +CHAPTER III. + +ENLIGHTENMENT + + +Yvette, also, could not sleep. Like her mother, she leaned upon the +sill of the open window, and tears, her first bitter tears, filled +her eyes. Up to this time she had lived, had grown up, in the +heedless and serene confidence of happy youth. Why should she have +dreamed, reflected, puzzled? Why should she not have been a young +girl, like all other young girls? Why should a doubt, a fear, or +painful suspicion have come to her? + +She seemed posted on all topics because she had a way of talking on +all subjects, because she had taken the tone, demeanor, and words of +the people who lived around her. But she really knew no more than a +little girl raised in a convent; her audacities of speech came from +her memory, from that unconscious faculty of imitation and +assimilation which women possess, and not from a mind instructed and +emboldened. + +She spoke of love as the son of a painter or a musician would, at +the age of ten or twelve years, speak of painting or music. She knew +or rather suspected very well what sort of mystery this word +concealed;--too many jokes had been whispered before her, for her +innocence not to be a trifle enlightened,--but how could she have +drawn the conclusion from all this, that all families did not +resemble hers? + +They kissed her mother's hand with the semblance of respect; all +their friends had titles; they all were rich or seemed to be so; +they all spoke familiarly of the princes of the royal line. Two sons +of kings had even come often, in the evening, to the Marquise's +house. How should she have known? + +And, then, she was naturally artless. She did not estimate or sum up +people as her mother, did. She lived tranquilly, too joyous in her +life to worry herself about what might appear suspicious to +creatures more calm, thoughtful, reserved, less cordial, and sunny. + +But now, all at once, Servigny, by a few words, the brutality of +which she felt without understanding them, awakened in her a sudden +disquietude, unreasoning at first, but which grew into a tormenting +apprehension. She had fled home, had escaped like a wounded animal, +wounded in fact most deeply by those words which she ceaselessly +repeated to get all their sense and bearing: "You know very well +that there can be no question of marriage between us--but only of +love." + +What did he mean? And why this insult? Was she then in ignorance of +something, some secret, some shame? She was the only one ignorant of +it, no doubt. But what could she do? She was frightened, startled, +as a person is when he discovers some hidden infamy, some treason of +a beloved friend, one of those heart-disasters which crush. + +She dreamed, reflected, puzzled, wept, consumed by fears and +suspicions. Then her joyous young soul reassuring itself, she began +to plan an adventure, to imagine an abnormal and dramatic situation, +founded on the recollections of all the poetical romances she had +read. She recalled all the moving catastrophes, or sad and touching +stories; she jumbled them together, and concocted a story of her own +with which she interpreted the half-understood mystery which +enveloped her life. + +She was no longer cast down. She dreamed, she lifted veils, she +imagined unlikely complications, a thousand singular, terrible +things, seductive, nevertheless, by their very strangeness. Could +she be, by chance, the natural daughter of a prince? Had her poor +mother, betrayed and deserted, made Marquise by some king, perhaps +King Victor Emmanuel, been obliged to take flight before the anger +of the family? Was she not rather a child abandoned by its +relations, who were noble and illustrious, the fruit of a +clandestine love, taken in by the Marquise, who had adopted and +brought her up? + +Still other suppositions passed through her mind. She accepted or +rejected them according to the dictates of her fancy. She was moved +to pity over her own case, happy at the bottom of her heart, and sad +also, taking a sort of satisfaction in becoming a sort of a heroine +of a book who must: assume a noble attitude, worthy of herself. + +She laid out the part she must play, according to events at which +she guessed. She vaguely outlined this role, like one of Scribe's or +of George Sand's. It should be endued with devotion, self-abnegation, +greatness of soul, tenderness; and fine words. Her pliant nature +almost rejoiced in this new attitude. She pondered almost till evening +what she should do, wondering how she should manage to wrest the truth +from the Marquise. + +And when night came, favorable to tragic situations, she had thought +out a simple and subtile trick to obtain what she wanted: it was, +brusquely, to say that Servigny had asked for her hand in marriage. + +At this news, Madame Obardi, taken by surprise, would certainly let +a word escape her lips, a cry which would throw light into the mind +of her daughter. And Yvette had accomplished her plan. + +She expected an explosion of astonishment, an expansion of love, a +confidence full of gestures and tears. But, instead of this, her +mother, without appearing stupefied or grieved, had only seemed +bored; and from the constrained, discontented, and worried tone in +which she had replied, the young girl, in whom there suddenly awaked +all the astuteness, keenness, and sharpness of a woman, +understanding that she must not insist, that the mystery was of +another nature, that it would be painful to her to learn it, and +that she must puzzle it out all alone, had gone back to her room, +her heart oppressed, her soul in distress, possessed now with the +apprehensions of a real misfortune, without knowing exactly either +whence or why this emotion came to her. So she wept, leaning at the +window. + +She wept long, not dreaming of anything now, not seeking to discover +anything more, and little by little, weariness overcoming her, she +closed her eyes. She dozed for a few minutes, with that deep sleep +of people who are tired out and have not the energy to undress and +go to bed, that heavy sleep, broken by dreams, when the head nods +upon the breast. + +She did not go to bed until the first break of day, when the cold of +the morning, chilling her, compelled her to leave the window. + +The next day and the day after, she maintained a reserved and +melancholy attitude. Her thoughts were busy; she was learning to spy +out, to guess at conclusions, to reason. A light, still vague, +seemed to illumine men and things around her in a new manner; she +began to entertain suspicions against all, against everything that +she had believed, against her mother. She imagined all sorts of +things during these two days. She considered all the possibilities, +taking the most extreme resolutions with the suddenness of her +changeable and unrestrained nature. Wednesday she hit upon a plan, +an entire schedule of conduct and a system of spying. She rose +Thursday morning with the resolve to be very sharp and armed against +everybody. + +She determined even to take for her motto these two words: "Myself +alone," and she pondered for more than an hour how she should +arrange them to produce a good effect engraved about her crest, on +her writing paper. + +Saval and Servigny arrived at ten o'clock. The young girl gave her +hand with reserve, without embarrassment, and in a tone, familiar +though grave, she said: + +"Good morning, Muscade, are you well?" "Good morning, Mam'zelle, +fairly, thanks, and you?" He was watching her. "What comedy will she +play me," he said to himself. + +The Marquise having taken Saval's arm, he took Yvette's, and they +began to stroll about the lawn, appearing and disappearing every +minute, behind the clumps of trees. + +Yvette walked with a thoughtful air, looking at the gravel of the +pathway, appearing hardly to hear what her companion said and +scarcely answering him. + +Suddenly she asked: "Are you truly my friend, Muscade?" + +"Why, of course, Mam'zelle." + +"But truly, truly, now?" + +"Absolutely your friend, Mam'zelle, body and soul." + +"Even enough of a friend not to lie to me once, just once?" + +"Even twice, if necessary." + +"Even enough to tell me the absolute, exact truth?" + +"Yes, Mam'zelle." + +"Well, what do you think, way down in your heart, of the Prince of +Kravalow?" + +"Ah, the devil!" + +"You see that you are already preparing to lie." + +"Not at all, but I am seeking the words, the proper words. Great +Heavens, Prince Kravalow is a Russian, who speaks Russian, who was +born in Russia, who has perhaps had a passport to come to France, +and about whom there is nothing false but his name and title." + +She looked him in the eyes: "You mean that he is--?" + +"An adventurer, Mam'zelle." + +"Thank you, and Chevalier Valreali is no better?" "You have hit it." + +"And Monsieur de Belvigne?" + +"With him it is a different thing. He is of provincial society, +honorable up to a certain point, but only a little scorched from +having lived too rapidly." + +"And you?" + +"I am what they call a butterfly, a man of good family, who had +intelligence and who has squandered it in making phrases, who had +good health and who has injured it by dissipation, who had some +worth perhaps and who has scattered it by doing nothing. There is +left to me a certain knowledge of life, a complete absence of +prejudice, a large contempt for mankind, including women, a very +deep sentiment of the uselessness of my acts and a vast tolerance +for the mob." + +"Nevertheless, at times, I can be frank, and I am even capable of +affection, as you could see, if you would. With these defects and +qualities I place myself at your orders, Mam'zelle, morally and +physically, to do what you please with me." + +She did not laugh; she listened, weighing his words and his +intentions; then she resumed: + +"What do you think of the Countess de Lammy?" + +He replied, vivaciously: "You will permit me not to give my opinion +about the women." + +"About none of them?" + +"About none of them." "Then you must have a bad opinion of them all. +Come, think; won't you make a single exception?" + +He sneered with that insolent air which he generally wore; and with +that brutal audacity which he used as a weapon, he said: "Present +company is always excepted." + +She blushed a little, but calmly asked: "Well, what do you think of +me?" + +"You want me to tell. Well, so be it. I think you are a young person +of good sense, and practicalness, or if you prefer, of good +practical sense, who knows very well how to arrange her pastime, to +amuse people, to hide her views, to lay her snares, and who, without +hurrying, awaits events." + +"Is that all?" she asked. + +"That's all." + +Then she said with a serious earnestness: "I shall make you change +that opinion, Muscade." + +Then she joined her mother, who was proceeding with short steps, her +head down, with that manner assumed in talking very low, while +walking, of very intimate and very sweet things. As she advanced she +drew shapes in the sand, letters perhaps, with the point of her +sunshade, and she spoke, without looking at Saval, long, softly, +leaning on his arm, pressed against him. + +Yvette suddenly fixed her eyes upon her, and a suspicion, rather a +feeling than a doubt, passed through her mind as a shadow of a cloud +driven by the wind passes over the ground. + +The bell rang for breakfast. It was silent and almost gloomy. There +was a storm in the air. Great solid clouds rested upon the horizon, +mute and heavy, but charged with a tempest. As soon as they had +taken their coffee on the terrace, the Marquise asked: + +"Well, darling, are you going to take a walk today with your friend +Servigny? It is a good time to enjoy the coolness under the trees." + +Yvette gave her a quick glance. + +"No, mamma, I am not going out to-day." + +The Marquise appeared annoyed, and insisted. "Oh, go and take a +stroll, my child, it is excellent for you." + +Then Yvette distinctly said: "No, mamma, I shall stay in the house +to-day, and you know very well why, because I told you the other +evening." + +Madame Obardi gave it no further thought, preoccupied with the +thought of remaining alone with Saval. She blushed and was annoyed, +disturbed on her own account, not knowing how she could find a free +hour or two. She stammered: + +"It is true. I was not thinking of it. I don't know where my head +is." + +And Yvette taking up some embroidery, which she called "the public +safety," and at which she worked five or six times a year, on dull +days, seated herself on a low chair near her mother, while the two +young men, astride folding-chairs, smoked their cigars. + +The hours passed in a languid conversation. The Marquise fidgety, +cast longing glances at Saval, seeking some pretext, some means, of +getting rid of her daughter. She finally realized that she would not +succeed, and not knowing what ruse to employ, she said to Servigny: +"You know, my dear Duke, that I am going to keep you both this +evening. To-morrow we shall breakfast at the Fournaise restaurant, +at Chaton." + +He understood, smiled, and bowed: "I am at your orders, Marquise." + +The day wore on slowly and painfully under the threatenings of the +storm. The hour for dinner gradually approached. The heavy sky was +filled with slow and heavy clouds. There was not a breath of air +stirring. The evening meal was silent, too. An oppression, an +embarrassment, a sort of vague fear, seemed to make the two men and +the two women mute. + +When the covers were removed, they sat long upon the terrace; only +speaking at long intervals. Night fell, a sultry night. Suddenly the +horizon was torn by an immense flash of lightning, which illumined +with a dazzling and wan light the four faces shrouded in darkness. +Then a far-off sound, heavy and feeble, like the rumbling of a +carriage upon a bridge, passed over the earth; and it seemed that +the heat of the atmosphere increased, that the air suddenly became +more oppressive, and the silence of the evening deeper. + +Yvette rose. "I am going to bed," she said, "the storm makes me +ill." + +And she offered her brow to the Marquise, gave her hand to the two +young men, and withdrew. + +As her room was just above the terrace, the leaves of a great +chestnut-tree growing before the door soon gleamed with a green hue, +and Servigny kept his eyes fixed on this pale light in the foliage, +in which at times he thought he saw a shadow pass. But suddenly the +light went out. Madame Obardi gave a great sigh. + +"My daughter has gone to bed," she said. + +Servigny rose, saying: "I am going to do as much, Marquise, if you +will permit me." He kissed the hand she held out to him and +disappeared in turn. + +She was left alone with Saval, in the night. In a moment she was +clasped in his arms. Then, although he tried to prevent her, she +kneeled before him murmuring: "I want to see you by the lightning +flashes." + +But Yvette, her candle snuffed out, had returned to her balcony, +barefoot, gliding like a shadow, and she listened, consumed by an +unhappy and confused suspicion. She could not see, as she was above +them, on the roof of the terrace. + +She heard nothing but a murmur of voices, and her heart beat so fast +that she could actually hear its throbbing. A window closed on the +floor above her. Servigny, then, must have just gone up to his room. +Her mother was alone with the other man. + +A second flash of lightning, clearing the sky; lighted up for a +second all the landscape she knew so well, with a startling and +sinister gleam, and she saw the great river, with the color of +melted lead, as a river appears in dreams in fantastic scenes. + +Just then a voice below her uttered the words: "I love you!" And she +heard nothing more. A strange shudder passed over her body, and her +soul shivered in frightful distress. A heavy, infinite silence, +which seemed eternal, hung over the world. She could no longer +breathe, her breast oppressed by something unknown and horrible. +Another flash of lightning illumined space, lighting up the horizon +for an instant, then another almost immediately came, followed by +still others. And the voice, which she had already heard, repeated +more loudly: "Oh! how I love you! how I love you!" And Yvette +recognized the voice; it was her mother's. + +A large drop of warm rain fell upon her brow, and a slight and +almost imperceptible motion ran through the leaves, the quivering of +the rain which was now beginning. Then a noise came from afar, a +confused sound, like that of the wind in the branches: it was the +deluge descending in sheets on earth and river and trees. In a few +minutes the water poured about her, covering her, drenching her like +a shower-bath. She did not move, thinking only of what was happening +on the terrace. + +She heard them get up and go to their rooms. Doors were closed +within the house; and the young girl, yielding to an irresistible +desire to learn what was going on, a desire which maddened and +tortured her, glided downstairs, softly opened the outer door, and, +crossing the lawn under the furious downpour, ran and hid in a clump +of trees, to look at the windows. + +Only one window was lighted, her mother's. And suddenly two shadows +appeared in the luminous square, two shadows, side by side. Then +distracted, without reflection, without knowing what she was doing, +she screamed with all her might, in a shrill voice: "Mamma!" as a +person would cry out to warn people in danger of death. + +Her desperate cry was lost in the noise of the rain, but the couple +separated, disturbed. And one of the shadows disappeared, while the +other tried to discover something, peering through the darkness of +the garden. + +Fearing to be surprised, or to meet her mother at that moment, +Yvette rushed back to the house, ran upstairs, dripping wet, and +shut herself in her room, resolved to open her door to no one. + +Without taking, off her streaming dress, which clung to her form, +she fell on her knees, with clasped hands, in her distress imploring +some superhuman protection, the mysterious aid of Heaven, the +unknown support which a person seeks in hours of tears and despair. + +The great lightning flashes threw for an instant their livid +reflections into her room, and she saw herself in the mirror of her +wardrobe, with her wet and disheveled hair, looking so strange that +she did not recognize herself. She remained there so long that the +storm abated without her perceiving it. The rain ceased, a light +filled the sky, still obscured with clouds, and a mild, balmy, +delicious freshness, a freshness of grass and wet leaves, came in +through the open window. + +Yvette rose, took off her wet, cold garments, without thinking what +she was doing, and went to bed. She stared with fixed eyes at the +dawning day. Then she wept again, and then she began to think. + +Her mother! A lover! What a shame! She had read so many books in +which women, even mothers, had overstepped the bounds of propriety, +to regain their honor at the pages of the climax, that she was not +astonished beyond measure at finding herself enveloped in a drama +similar to all those of her reading. The violence of her first +grief, the cruel shock of surprise, had already worn off a little, +in the confused remembrance of analogous situations. Her mind had +rambled among such tragic adventures, painted by the novel-writers, +that the horrible discovery seemed, little by little, like the +natural continuation of some serial story, begun the evening before. + +She said to herself: "I will save my mother." And almost reassured +by this heroic resolution, she felt herself strengthened, ready at +once for the devotion and the struggle. She reflected on the means +which must be employed. A single one seemed good, which was quite in +keeping with her romantic nature. And she rehearsed the interview +which she should have with the Marquise, as an actor rehearses the +scene which he is going to play. + +The sun had risen. The servants were stirring about the house. The +chambermaid came with the chocolate. Yvette put the tray on the +table and said: + +"You will say to my mother that I am not well, that I am going to +stay in bed until those gentlemen leave, that I could not sleep last +night, and that I do not want to be disturbed because I am going to +try to rest." + +The servant, surprised, looked at the wet dress, which had fallen +like a rag on the carpet. + +"So Mademoiselle has been out?" she said. + +"Yes, I went out for a walk in the rain to refresh myself." + +The maid picked up the skirts, stockings, and wet shoes; then she +went away carrying on her arm, with fastidious precautions, these +garments, soaked as the clothes of a drowned person. And Yvette +waited, well knowing that her mother would come to her. + +The Marquise entered, having jumped from her bed at the first words +of the chambermaid, for a suspicion had possessed her, heart since +that cry: "Mamma!" heard in the dark. + +"What is the matter?" she said. + +Yvette looked at her and stammered: "I--I--" Then overpowered by a +sudden and terrible emotion, she began to choke. + +The Marquise, astonished, again asked: "What in the world is the +matter with you?" + +Then, forgetting all her plans and prepared phrases, the young girl +hid her face in both hands and stammered: + +"Oh! mamma! Oh! mamma!" + +Madame Obardi stood by the bed, too much affected thoroughly to +understand, but guessing almost everything, with that subtile +instinct whence she derived her strength. As Yvette could not speak, +choked with tears, her mother, worn out finally and feeling some +fearful explanation coming, brusquely asked: + +"Come, will you tell me what the matter is?" + +Yvette could hardly utter the words: "Oh! last night--I saw--your +window." + +The Marquise, very pale; said: "Well? what of it?" + +Her daughter repeated, still sobbing: "Oh! mamma! Oh! mamma!" + +Madame Obardi, whose fear and embarrassment turned to anger, +shrugged her shoulders and turned to go. "I really believe that you +are crazy. When this ends, you will let me know." + +But the young girl, suddenly took her hands from her face, which was +streaming with tears. + +"No, listen, I must speak to you, listen. You must promise me--we +must both go, away, very far off, into the country, and we must live +like the country people; and no one must know what has become of us. +Say you will, mamma; I beg you, I implore you; will you?" + +The Marquise, confused, stood in the middle of the room. She had in +her veins the irascible blood of the common people. Then a sense of +shame, a mother's modesty, mingled with a vague sentiment of fear +and the exasperation of a passionate woman whose love is threatened, +and she shuddered, ready to ask for pardon, or to yield to some +violence. + +"I don't understand you," she said. + +Yvette replied: + +"I saw you, mamma, last night. You cannot--if you knew--we will both +go away. I will love you so much that you will forget--" + +Madame Obardi said in a trembling voice: "Listen, my daughter, +there are some things which you do not yet understand. Well, don't +forget--don't forget-that I forbid you ever to speak to me about +those things." + +But the young girl, brusquely taking the role of savior which she +had imposed upon herself, rejoined: + +"No, mamma, I am no longer a child, and I have the right to know. I +know that we receive persons of bad repute, adventurers, and I know +that, on that account, people do not respect us. I know more. Well, +it must not be, any longer, do you hear? I do not wish it. We will +go away: you will sell your jewels; we will work, if need be, and we +will live as honest women, somewhere very far away. And if I can +marry, so much the better." + +She answered: "You are crazy. You will do me the favor to rise and +come down to breakfast with all the rest." + +"No, mamma. There is some one whom I shall never see again, you +understand me. I want him to leave, or I shall leave. You shall +choose between him and me." + +She was sitting up in bed, and she raised her voice, speaking as +they do on the stage, playing, finally, the drama which she had +dreamed, almost forgetting her grief in the effort to fulfill her +mission. + +The Marquise, stupefied, again repeated: "You are crazy--" not +finding anything else to say. + +Yvette replied with a theatrical energy: "No, mamma, that man shall +leave the house, or I shall go myself, for I will not weaken." + +"And where will you go? What will you do?" + +"I do not know, it matters little--I want you to be an honest +woman." + +These words which recurred, aroused in the Marquise a perfect fury, +and she cried: + +"Be silent. I do not permit you to talk to me like that. I am as +good as anybody else, do you understand? I lead a certain sort of +life, it is true, and I am proud of it; the 'honest women' are not +as good as I am." + +Yvette, astonished, looked at her, and stammered: "Oh! mamma!" + +But the Marquise, carried away with excitement, continued: + +"Yes, I lead a certain life--what of it? Otherwise you would be a +cook, as I was once, and earn thirty sous a day. You would be +washing dishes, and your mistress would send you to market--do you +understand--and she would turn you out if you loitered, just as you +loiter, now because I am--because I lead this life. Listen. When a +person is only a nursemaid, a poor girl, with fifty francs saved up, +she must know how to manage, if she does not want to starve to +death; and there are not two ways for us, there are not two ways, do +you understand, when we are servants. We cannot make our fortune +with official positions, nor with stockjobbing tricks. We have only +one way--only one way." + +She struck her breast as a penitent at the confessional, and flushed +and excited, coming toward the bed, she continued: "So much the +worse. A pretty girl must live or suffer--she has no choice!" Then +returning to her former idea: "Much they deny themselves, your +'honest women.' They are worse, because nothing compels them. They +have money to live on and amuse themselves, and they choose vicious +lives of their own accord. They are the bad ones in reality." + +She was standing near the bed of the distracted Yvette, who wanted +to cry out "Help," to escape. Yvette wept aloud, like children who +are whipped. The Marquise was silent and looked at her daughter, +and, seeing her overwhelmed with despair, felt, herself, the pangs +of grief, remorse, tenderness, and pity, and throwing herself upon +the bed with open arms, she also began to sob and stammered: + +"My poor little girl, my poor little girl, if you knew, how you were +hurting me." And they wept together, a long while. + +Then the Marquise, in whom grief could not long endure, softly rose, +and gently said: + +"Come, darling, it is unavoidable; what would you have? Nothing can +be changed now. We must take life as it comes to us." + +Yvette continued to weep. The blow had been too harsh and too +unexpected to permit her to reflect and to recover at once. + +Her mother resumed: "Now, get up and come down to breakfast, so that +no one will notice anything." + +The young girl shook her head as if to say, "No," without being able +to speak. Then she said, with a slow voice full of sobs: + +"No, mamma, you know what I said, I won't alter my determination. I +shall not leave my room till they have gone. I never want to see one +of those people again, never, never. If they come back, you will see +no more of me." + +The Marquise had dried her eyes, and wearied with emotion, she +murmured: + +"Come, reflect, be reasonable." + +Then, after a moment's silence: + +"Yes, you had better rest this morning. I will come up to see you +this afternoon." And having kissed her daughter on the forehead, she +went to dress herself, already calmed. + +Yvette, as soon as her mother had disappeared, rose, and ran to bolt +the door, to be alone, all alone; then she began to think. The +chambermaid knocked about eleven o'clock, and asked through the +door: "Madame the Marquise wants to know if Mademoiselle wishes +anything, and what she will take for her breakfast." + +Yvette answered: "I am not hungry, I only ask not to be disturbed." + +And she remained in bed, just as if she had been ill. Toward three +o'clock, some one knocked again. She asked: + +"Who is there?" + +It was her mother's voice which replied: "It is I, darling, I have +come to see how you are." + +She hesitated what she should do. She opened the door, and then went +back to bed. The Marquise approached, and, speaking in low tones, as +people do to a convalescent, said: + +"Well, are you better? Won't you eat an egg?" + +"No, thanks, nothing at all." + +Madame Obardi sat down near the bed. They remained without saying +anything, then, finally, as her daughter stayed quiet, with her +hands inert upon the bedclothes, she asked: + +"Don't you intend to get up?" + +Yvette answered: "Yes, pretty soon." + +Then in a grave and slow tone she said: "I have thought a great +deal, mamma, and this--this is my resolution. The past is the past, +let us speak no more of it. But the future shall be different or I +know what is left for me to do. Now, let us say no more about it." + +The Marquise, who thought the explanation finished, felt her +impatience gaining a little. It was too much. This big goose of a +girl ought to have known about things long ago. But she did not say +anything in reply, only repeating: + +"You are going to get up?" + +"Yes, I am ready." + +Then her mother became maid for her, bringing her stockings, her +corset, and her skirts. Then she kissed her. + +"Will you take a walk before dinner?" + +"Yes, mamma." + +And they took a stroll along the water, speaking only of commonplace +things. + + + + +CHAPTER IV. + +FROM EMOTION TO PHILOSOPHY + + +The following day, early in the morning, Yvette went out alone to +the place where Servigny had read her the history of the ants. She +said to herself: + +"I am not going away from this spot without having formed a +resolution." + +Before her, at her feet, the water flowed rapidly, filled with large +bubbles which passed in silent flight with deep whirlings. She +already had summed up the points of the situation and the means of +extricating herself from it. What should she do if her mother would +not accept the conditions which she had imposed, would not renounce +her present way of living, her set of visitors--everything and go +and hide with her in a distant land? + +She might go alone, take flight, but where, and how? What would she +live on? By working? At what? To whom should she apply to find work? +And, then, the dull and humble life of working-women, daughters of +the people, seemed a little disgraceful, unworthy of her. She +thought of becoming a governess, like young girls in novels, and of +becoming loved by the son of the house, and then marrying him. But +to accomplish that she must have been of good birth, so that, when +the exasperated father should approach her with having stolen his +son's love, she might say in a proud voice: + +"My name is Yvette Obardi." + +She could not do this. And then, even that would have been a trite +and threadbare method. + +The convent was not worth much more. Besides, she felt no vocation +for a religious life, having only an intermittent and fleeting +piety. No one would save her by marrying her, being what she was! No +aid was acceptable from a man, no possible issue, no definite +resource. + +And then she wished to do something energetic and really great and +strong, which should serve as an example: so she resolved upon +death. + +She decided upon this step suddenly, but tranquilly, as if it were a +journey, without reflecting, without looking at death, without +understanding that it is the end without recommencement, the +departure without return, the eternal farewell to earth and to this +life. + +She immediately settled on this extreme measure, with the lightness +of young and excited souls, and she thought of the means which she +would employ. But they all seemed to her painful and hazardous, and, +furthermore, required a violence of action which repelled her. + +She quickly abandoned the poniard and revolver, which might wound +only, blind her or disfigure her, and which demanded a practiced and +steady hand. She decided against the rope; it was so common, the +poor man's way of suicide, ridiculous and ugly; and against water +because she knew how to swim So poison remained--but which kind? +Almost all of them cause suffering and incite vomitings. She did not +want either of these things. + +Then she thought of chloroform, having read in a newspaper how a +young woman had managed to asphyxiate herself by this process. And +she felt at once a sort of joy in her resolution, an inner pride, a +sensation of bravery. People should see what she was, and what she +was worth. + +She returned to Bougival and went to a druggist, from whom she asked +a little chloroform for a tooth which was aching. The man, who knew +her, gave her a tiny bottle of the narcotic. + +Then she set out on foot for Croissy, where she procured a second +phial of poison. She obtained a third at Chaton, a fourth at Ruril, +and got home late for breakfast. + +As she was very hungry after this long walk, she ate heartily with +the pleasurable appetite of people who have taken exercise. + +Her mother, happy to see her so hungry, and now feeling tranquil +herself, said to her as they left the table: + +"All our friends are coming to spend Sunday with us. I have invited +the Prince, the Chevalier, and Monsieur de Belvigne." + +Yvette turned a little pale, but did not reply. She went out almost +immediately, reached the railway station, and took a ticket for +Paris. And during all the afternoon, she went from druggist to +druggist, buying from each one a few drops of chloroform. She came +back in the evening with her pockets full of little bottles. + +She began the same system on the following day, and by chance found +a chemist who gave her, at one stroke, a quarter of a liter. She did +not go out on Saturday; it was a lowering and sultry day; she passed +it entirely on the terrace, stretched on a long wicker-chair. + +She thought of almost nothing, very resolute and very calm. She put +on the next morning, a blue costume which was very becoming to her, +wishing to look well. Then looking at herself in the glass, she +suddenly said: + +"To-morrow, I shall be dead." And a peculiar shudder passed over her +body. "Dead! I shall speak no more, think no more, no one will see +me more, and I shall never see anything again." + +And she gazed attentively at her countenance, as if she had never +observed it, examining especially her eyes, discovering a thousand +things in herself, a secret character in her physiognomy which she +had not known before, astonished to see herself, as if she had +opposite her a strange person, a new friend. + +She said to herself: "It is I, in the mirror, there. How queer it is +to look at oneself. But without the mirror we would never know +ourselves. Everybody else would know how we look, and we ourselves +would know nothing." + +She placed the heavy braids of her thick hair over her breast, +following with her glance all her gestures, all her poses, and all +her movements. "How pretty I am!" she thought. "Tomorrow I shall be +dead, there, upon my bed." She looked at her bed, and seemed to see +herself stretched out, white as the sheets. + +Dead! In a week she would be nothing but dust, to dust returned! A +horrible anguish oppressed her heart. The bright sunlight fell in +floods upon the fields, and the soft morning air came in at the +window. + +She sat down thinking of it. Death! It was as if the world was going +to disappear from her; but no, since nothing would be changed in the +world, not even her bedroom. Yes, her room would remain just the +same, with the same bed, the same chairs, the same toilette +articles, but she would be forever gone, and no one would be sorry, +except her mother, perhaps. + +People would say: "How pretty she was! that little Yvette," and +nothing more. And as she looked at her arm leaning on the arm of her +chair, she thought again, ashes to ashes, dust to dust. And again a +great shudder of horror ran over her whole body, and she did not +know how she could disappear without the whole earth being blotted +out, so much it seemed to her that she was a part of everything, of +the fields, of the air, of the sunshine, of life itself. + +There were bursts of laughter in the garden, a great noise of voices +and of calls, the bustling gaiety of country house parties, and she +recognized the sonorous tones of M. de Belvigne, singing: + +"I am underneath thy window, Oh, deign to show thy face." She rose, +without reflecting, and looked out. They all applauded. They were +all five there, with two gentlemen whom she did not know. + +She brusquely withdrew, annoyed by the thought that these men had +come to amuse themselves at her mother's house, as at a public +place. + +The bell sounded for breakfast. "I will show them how to die," she +said. + +She went downstairs with a firm step, with something of the +resolution of the Christian martyrs going into the circus, where the +lions awaited them. + +She pressed their hands, smiling in an affable but rather haughty +manner. Servigny asked her: + +"Are you less cross to-day, Mam'zelle?" + +She answered in a severe and peculiar tone: "Today, I am going to +commit follies. I am in my Paris mood, look out!" + +Then turning toward Monsieur de Belvigne, she said: + +"You shall be my escort, my little Malmsey. I will take you all +after breakfast to the fete at Marly." + +There was, in fact, a fete at Marly. They introduced the two +newcomers to her, the Comte de Tamine and the Marquis de Briquetot. + +During the meal, she said nothing further, strengthening herself to +be gay in the afternoon, so that no one should guess anything,--so +that they should be all the more astonished, and should say: "Who +would have thought it? She seemed so happy, so contented! What does +take place in those heads?" + +She forced herself not to think of the evening, the chosen hour, +when they should all be upon the terrace. She drank as much wine as +she could stand, to nerve herself, and two little glasses of brandy, +and she was flushed as she left the table, a little bewildered, +heated in body and mind. It seemed to her that she was strengthened +now, and resolved for everything. + +"Let us start!" she cried. She took Monsieur de Belvigne's arm and +set the pace for the others. "Come, you shall form my battalion, +Servigny. I choose you as sergeant; you will keep outside the ranks, +on the right. You will make the foreign guard march in front--the +two exotics, the Prince, and the Chevalier--and in the rear the two +recruits who have enlisted to-day. Come!" + +They started. And Servigny began to imitate the trumpet, while the +two newcomers made believe to beat the drum. Monsieur de Belvigne, a +little confused, said in a low tone: + +"Mademoiselle Yvette, be reasonable, you will compromise yourself." + +She answered: "It is you whom I am compromising, Raisine. As for me, +I don't care much about it. To-morrow it will not occur. So much the +worse for you: you ought not to go out with girls like me." + +They went through Bougival to the amazement of the passers-by. All +turned to look at them; the citizens came to their doors; the +travelers on the little railway which runs from Ruril to Marly +jeered at them. The men on the platforms cried: + +"To the water with them!" + +Yvette marched with a military step, holding Belvigne by the arm, as +a prisoner is led. She did not laugh; upon her features sat a pale +seriousness, a sort of sinister calm. Servigny interrupted his +trumpet blasts only to shout orders. The Prince and the Chevalier +were greatly amused, finding all this very funny and in good taste. +The two recruits drummed away continually. + +When they arrived at the fete, they made a sensation. Girls +applauded; young men jeered, and a stout gentleman with his wife on +his arm said enviously: "There are some people who are full of fun." + +Yvette saw the wooden horses and compelled Belvigne to mount at her +right, while her squad scrambled upon the whirling beasts behind. +When the time was up she refused to dismount, constraining her +escort to take several more rides on the back of these children's +animals, to the great delight of the public, who shouted jokes at +them. Monsieur de Belvigne was livid and dizzy when he got off. + +Then she began to wander among the booths. She forced all her men to +get weighed among a crowd of spectators. She made them buy +ridiculous toys which they had to carry in their hands. The Prince +and the Chevalier began to think the joke was being carried too far. +Servigny and the drummers, alone, did not seem to be discouraged. + +They finally came to the end of the place. Then she gazed at her +followers in a peculiar manner, with a shy and mischievous glance, +and a strange fancy came to her mind. She drew them up on the bank +of the river. + +"Let the one who loves me the most jump into the water," she said. + +Nobody leaped. A mob gathered behind them. Women in white aprons +looked on in stupor. Two troopers, in red breeches, laughed loudly. + +She repeated: "Then there is not one of you capable of jumping into +the water at my desire?" + +Servigny murmured: "Oh, yes, there is," and leaped feet foremost +into the river. His plunge cast a splash over as far as Yvette's +feet. A murmur of astonishment and gaiety arose in the crowd. + +Then the young girl picked up from the ground a little piece of +wood, and throwing it into the stream: "Fetch it," she cried. + +The young man began to swim, and seizing the floating stick in his +mouth, like a dog, he brought it ashore, and then climbing the bank +he kneeled on one knee to present it. + +Yvette took it. "You are handsome," said she, and with a friendly +stroke, she caressed his hair. + +A stout woman indignantly exclaimed: "Are such things possible!" + +Another woman said: "Can people amuse themselves like that!" + +A man remarked: "I would not take a plunge for that sort of a girl." + +She again took Belvigne's arm, exclaiming in his face: "You are a +goose, my friend; you don't know what you missed." + +They now returned. She cast vexed looks on the passers-by. "How +stupid all these people seem," she said. Then raising her eyes to +the countenance of her companion, she added: "You, too, like all the +rest." + +M. de Belvigne bowed. Turning around she saw that the Prince and the +Chevalier had disappeared. Servigny, dejected and dripping, ceased +playing on the trumpet, and walked with a gloomy air at the side of +the two wearied young men, who also had stopped the drum playing. +She began to laugh dryly, saying: + +"You seem to have had enough; nevertheless, that is what you call +having a good time, isn't it? You came for that; I have given you +your money's worth." + +Then she walked on, saying nothing further; and suddenly Belvigne +perceived that she was weeping. Astounded, he inquired: + +"What is the matter?" + +She murmured: "Let me alone, it does not concern you." + +But he insisted, like a fool: "Oh, Mademoiselle, come, what is the +matter, has anyone annoyed you?" + +She repeated impatiently: "Will you keep still?" + +Then suddenly, no longer able to resist the despairing sorrow which +drowned her heart, she began to sob so violently, that she could no +longer walk. She covered her face with her hands, panting for +breath, choked by the violence of her despair. + +Belvigne stood still at her side, quite bewildered, repeating: "I +don't understand this at all." + +But Servigny brusquely came forward: "Let us go home, Mam'zelle, so +that people may not see you weeping in the street. Why do you +perpetrate follies like that when they only make you sad?" + +And taking her arm he drew her forward. But as soon as they reached +the iron gate of the villa she began to run, crossed the garden, and +went upstairs, and shut herself in her room. She did not appear +again until the dinner hour, very pale and serious. Servigny had +bought from a country storekeeper a workingman's costume, with +velvet pantaloons, a flowered waistcoat and a blouse, and he adopted +the local dialect. Yvette was in a hurry for them to finish, feeling +her courage ebbing. As soon as the coffee was served she went to her +room again. + +She heard the merry voices beneath her window. The Chevalier was +making equivocal jokes, foreign witticisms, vulgar and clumsy. She +listened, in despair. Servigny, just a bit tipsy, was imitating the +common workingman, calling the Marquise "the Missus." And all of a +sudden he said to Saval: "Well, Boss?" That caused a general laugh. + +Then Yvette decided. She first took a sheet of paper and wrote: + + "Bougival, Sunday, nine o'clock in the evening. + "I die so that I may not become a kept woman. + + "YVETTE." + +Then in a postscript: + + "Adieu, my dear mother, pardon." + +She sealed the envelope, and addressed it to the Marquise Obardi. + +Then she rolled her long chair near the window, drew a little table +within reach of her hand, and placed upon it the big bottle of +chloroform beside a handful of wadding. + +A great rose-tree covered with flowers, climbing as high as her +window, exhaled in the night a soft and gentle perfume, in light +breaths; and she stood for a moment enjoying it. The moon, in its +first quarter, was floating in the dark sky, a little ragged at the +left, and veiled at times by slight mists. + +Yvette thought: "I am going to die!" And her heart, swollen with +sobs, nearly bursting, almost suffocated her. She felt in her a need +of asking mercy from some one, of being saved, of being loved. + +The voice of Servigny aroused her. He was telling an improper story, +which was constantly interrupted by bursts of laughter. The Marquise +herself laughed louder than the others. + +"There is nobody like him for telling that sort of thing," she said, +laughing. + +Yvette took the bottle, uncorked it, and poured a little of the +liquid on the cotton. A strong, sweet, strange odor arose; and as +she brought the piece of cotton to her lips, the fumes entered her +throat and made her cough. + +Then shutting her mouth, she began to inhale it. She took in long +breaths of this deadly vapor, closing her eyes, and forcing herself +to stifle in her mind all thoughts, so that she might not reflect, +that she might know nothing more. + +It seemed to her at first that her chest was growing larger, was +expanding, and that her soul, recently heavy and burdened with +grief, was becoming light, light, as if the weight which overwhelmed +her was lifted, wafted away. Something lively and agreeable +penetrated even to the extremities of her limbs, even to the tips of +her toes and fingers and entered her flesh, a sort of dreamy +intoxication, of soft fever. She saw that the cotton was dry, and +she was astonished that she was not already dead. Her senses seemed +more acute, more subtle, more alert. She heard the lowest whisper on +the terrace. Prince Kravalow was telling how he had killed an +Austrian general in a duel. + +Then, further off, in the fields, she heard the noise of the night, +the occasional barkings of a dog, the short cry of the frogs, the +almost imperceptible rustling of the leaves. + +She took the bottle again, and saturated once more the little piece +of wadding; then she began to breathe in the fumes again. For a few +moments she felt nothing; then that soft and soothing feeling of +comfort which she had experienced before enveloped her. + +Twice she poured more chloroform upon the cotton, eager now for that +physical and mental sensation, that dreamy torpor, which bewildered +her soul. + +It seemed to her that she had no more bones, flesh, legs, or arms. +The drug had gently taken all these away from her, without her +perceiving it. The chloroform had drawn away her body, leaving her +only her mind, more awakened, more active, larger, and more free +than she had ever felt it. + +She recalled a thousand forgotten things, little details of her +childhood, trifles which had given her pleasure. Endowed suddenly +with an awakened agility, her mind leaped to the most diverse ideas, +ran through a thousand adventures, wandered in the past, and lost +itself in the hoped-for events of the future. And her lively and +careless thoughts had a sensuous charm: she experienced a divine +pleasure in dreaming thus. + +She still heard the voices, but she could no longer distinguish the +words, which to her seemed to have a different meaning. She was in a +kind of strange and changing fairyland. + +She was on a great boat which floated through a beautiful country, +all covered with flowers. She saw people on the shore, and these +people spoke very loudly; then she was again on land, without asking +how, and Servigny, clad as a prince, came to seek her, to take her +to a bull-fight. + +The streets were filled with passers-by, who were talking, and she +heard conversations which did not astonish her, as if she had known +the people, for through her dreamy intoxication, she still heard her +mother's friends laughing and talking on the terrace. + +Then everything became vague. Then she awakened, deliciously +benumbed, and she could hardly remember what had happened. + +So, she was not yet dead. But she felt so calm, in such a state of +physical comfort, that she was not in haste to finish with it--she +wanted to make this exquisite drowsiness last forever. + +She breathed slowly and looked at the moon, opposite her, above the +trees. Something had changed in her spirit. She no longer thought as +she had done just now. The chloroform quieting her body and her soul +had calmed her grief and lulled her desire to die. + +Why should she not live? Why should she not be loved? Why should she +not lead a happy life? Everything appeared possible to her now, and +easy and certain. Everything in life was sweet, everything was +charming. But as she wished to dream on still, she poured more of +the dream-water on the cotton and began to breathe it in again, +stopping at times, so as not to absorb too much of it and die. + +She looked at the moon and saw in it a face, a woman's face. She +began to scorn the country in the fanciful intoxication of the drug. +That face swung in the sky; then it sang, it sang with a well-known +voice the alleluia of love. + +It was the Marquise, who had come in and seated herself at the +piano. + +Yvette had wings now. She was flying through a clear night, above +the wood and streams. She was flying with delight, opening and +closing her wings, borne by the wind as by a caress. She moved in +the air, which kissed her skin, and she went so fast, so fast, that +she had no time to see anything beneath her, and she found herself +seated on the bank of a pond with a line in her hand; she was +fishing. + +Something pulled on the cord, and when she drew it out of the water, +it bore a magnificent pearl necklace, which she had longed for some +time ago. She was not at all astonished at this deed, and she looked +at Servigny, who had come to her side--she knew not how. He was +fishing also, and drew out of the river a wooden horse. + +Then she had anew the feeling of awaking, and she heard some one +calling down stairs. Her mother had said: + +"Put out the candle." Then Servigny's voice rose, clear and jesting: + +"Put out your candle, Mam'zelle Yvette." + +And all took up the chorus: "Mam'zelle Yvette, put out your candle." + +She again poured chloroform on the cotton, but, as she did not want +to die, she placed it far enough from her face to breathe the fresh +air, while nevertheless her room was filled with the asphyxiating +odor of the narcotic, for she knew that some one was coming, and +taking a suitable posture, a pose of the dead, she waited. + +The Marquise said: "I am a little uneasy! That foolish child has +gone to sleep leaving the light on her table. I will send Clemence +to put it out, and to shut the balcony window, which is wide open." + +And soon the maid rapped on the door calling: "Mademoiselle, +Mademoiselle!" After a moment's silence, she repeated: "Mademoiselle, +Madame the Marquise begs you to put out your candle and shut the window." + +Clemence waited a little, then knocked louder, and cried: + +"Mademoiselle, Mademoiselle!" + +As Yvette did not reply, the servant went away and reported to the +Marquise: + +"Mademoiselle must have gone to sleep, her door is bolted, and I +could not awaken her." + +Madame Obardi murmured: + +"But she must not stay like that," + +Then, at the suggestion of Servigny, they all gathered under the +window, shouting in chorus: + +"Hip! hip! hurrah! Mam'zelle Yvette." + +Their clamor rose in the calm night, through the transparent air +beneath the moon, over the sleeping country; and they heard it die +away in the distance like the sound of a disappearing train. + +As Yvette did not answer the Marquise said: "I only hope that +nothing has happened. I am beginning to be afraid." + +Then Servigny, plucking red roses from a big rosebush trained along +the wall and buds not yet opened, began to throw them into the room +through the window. + +At the first rose that fell at her side, Yvette started and almost +cried out. Others fell upon her dress, others upon her hair, while +others going over her head fell upon the bed, covering it with a +rain of flowers. + +The Marquise, in a choking voice, cried: "Come, Yvette, answer." + +Then Servigny declared: "Truly this is not natural; I am going to +climb up by the balcony." + +But the Chevalier grew indignant. + +"Now, let me do it," he said. "It is a great favor I ask; it is too +good a means, and too good a time to obtain a rendezvous." + +All the rest, who thought the young girl was joking, cried: "We +protest! He shall not climb up." + +But the Marquise, disturbed, repeated: "And yet some one must go and +see." + +The Prince exclaimed with a dramatic gesture: + +"She favors the Duke, we are betrayed." + +"Let us toss a coin to see who shall go up," said the Chevalier. He +took a five-franc piece from his pocket, and began with the Prince. + +"Tail," said he. It was head. + +The Prince tossed the coin in his turn saying to Saval: "Call, +Monsieur." + +Saval called "Head." It was tail. + +The Prince then gave all the others a chance, and they all lost. + +Servigny, who was standing opposite him, exclaimed in his insolent +way: "PARBLEU! he is cheating!" + +The Russian put his hand on his heart and held out the gold piece to +his rival, saying: "Toss it yourself, my dear Duke." + +Servigny took it and spinning it up, said: "Head." It was tail. + +He bowed and pointing to the pillar of the balcony said: "Climb up, +Prince." But the Prince looked about him with a disturbed air. + +"What are you looking for?" asked the Chevalier. + +"Well,--I--would--like--a ladder." A general laugh followed. + +Saval, advancing, said: "We will help you." + +He lifted him in his arms, as strong as those of Hercules, telling +him: + +"Now climb to that balcony." + +The Prince immediately clung to it, and, Saval letting him go, he +swung there, suspended in the air, moving his legs in empty space. + +Then Servigny, seeing his struggling legs which sought a resting +place, pulled them downward with all his strength; the hands lost +their grip and the Prince fell in a heap on Monsieur de Belvigne, +who was coming to aid him. "Whose turn next?" asked Servigny. No one +claimed the privilege. + +"Come, Belvigne, courage!" + +"Thank you, my dear boy, I am thinking of my bones." + +"Come, Chevalier, you must be used to scaling walls." + +"I give my place to you, my dear Duke." + +"Ha, ha, that is just what I expected." + +Servigny, with a keen eye, turned to the pillar. Then with a leap, +clinging to the balcony, he drew himself up like a gymnast and +climbed over the balustrade. + +All the spectators, gazing at him, applauded. But he immediately +reappeared, calling: + +"Come, quick! Come, quick! Yvette is unconscious." The Marquise +uttered a loud cry, and rushed for the stairs. + +The young girl, her eyes closed, pretended to be dead. Her mother +entered distracted, and threw her self upon her. + +"Tell me what is the matter with her, what is the matter with her?" + +Servigny picked up the bottle of chloroform which had fallen upon +the floor. + +"She has drugged herself," said he. + +He placed his ear to her heart; then he added: + +"But she is not dead; we can resuscitate her. Have you any ammonia?" + +The maid, bewildered, repeated: "Any what, Monsieur?" + +"Any smelling-salts." + +"Yes, Monsieur." "Bring them at once, and leave the door open to +make a draft of air." + +The Marquise, on her knees, was sobbing: "Yvette! Yvette, my +daughter, my daughter, listen, answer me, Yvette, my child. Oh, my +God! my God! what has she done?" + +The men, frightened, moved about without speaking, bringing water, +towels, glasses, and vinegar. Some one said: "She ought to be +undressed." And the Marquise, who had lost her head, tried to +undress her daughter; but did not know what she was doing. Her hands +trembled and faltered, and she groaned: + +"I cannot,--I cannot--" + +The maid had come back bringing a druggist's bottle which Servigny +opened and from which he poured out half upon a handkerchief. Then +he applied it to Yvette's nose, causing her to choke. + +"Good, she breathes," said he. "It will be nothing." + +And he bathed her temples, cheeks, and neck with the pungent liquid. + +Then he made a sign to the maid to unlace the girl, and when she had +nothing more on than a skirt over her chemise, he raised her in his +arms and carried her to the bed, quivering, moved by the odor and +contact of her flesh. Then she was placed in bed. He arose very +pale. + +"She will come to herself," he said, "it is nothing." For he had +heard her breathe in a continuous and regular way. But seeing all +the men with their eyes fixed on Yvette in bed, he was seized with a +jealous irritation, and advanced toward them. "Gentlemen," he said, +"there are too many of us in this room; be kind enough to leave us +alone,--Monsieur Saval and me--with the Marquise." + +He spoke in a tone which was dry and full of authority. + +Madame Obardi had grasped her lover, and with her head uplifted +toward him she cried to him: + +"Save her, oh, save her!" + +But Servigny turning around saw a letter on the table. He seized it +with a rapid movement, and read the address. He understood and +thought: "Perhaps it would be better if the Marquise should not know +of this," and tearing open the envelope, he devoured at a glance the +two lines it contained: + + "I die so that I may not become a kept woman." + "Yvette." + + "Adieu, my dear mother, pardon." + +"The devil!" he thought, "this calls for reflection." And he hid the +letter in his pocket. + +Then he approached the bed, and immediately the thought came to him +that the young girl had regained consciousness but that she dared +not show it, from shame, from humiliation, and from fear of +questioning. The Marquise had fallen on her knees now, and was +weeping, her head on the foot of the bed. Suddenly she exclaimed: + +"A doctor, we must have a doctor!" + +But Servigny, who had just said something in a low tone to Saval, +replied to her: "No, it is all over. Come, go out a minute, just a +minute, and I promise you that she will kiss you when you come +back." And the Baron, taking Madame Obardi by the arm, led her from +the room. + +Then Servigny, sitting-by the bed, took Yvette's hand and said: +"Mam'zelle, listen to me." + +She did not answer. She felt so well, so soft and warm in bed, that +she would have liked never to move, never to speak, and to live like +that forever. An infinite comfort had encompassed her, a comfort the +like of which she had never experienced. + +The mild night air coming in by velvety breaths touched her temples +in an exquisite almost imperceptible way. It was a caress like a +kiss of the wind, like the soft and refreshing breath of a fan made +of all the leaves of the trees and of all the shadows of the night, +of the mist of rivers, and of all the flowers too, for the roses +tossed up from below into her room and upon her bed, and the roses +climbing at her balcony, mingled their heavy perfume with the +healthful savor of the evening breeze. + +She drank in this air which was so good, her eyes closed, her heart +reposing in the yet pervading intoxication of the drug, and she had +no longer at all the desire to die, but a strong, imperious wish to +live, to be happy--no matter how--to be loved, yes, to be loved. + +Servigny repeated: "Mam'zelle Yvette, listen to me." + +And she decided to open her eyes. + +He continued, as he saw her reviving: "Come! Come! what does this +nonsense mean?" + +She murmured: "My poor Muscade, I was so unhappy." + +He squeezed her hand: "And that led you into a pretty scrape! Come, +you must promise me not to try it again." + +She did not reply, but nodded her head slightly with an almost +imperceptible smile. He drew from his pocket the letter which he had +found on the table: + +"Had I better show this to your mother?" + +She shook her head, no. He knew not what more to say for the +situation seemed to him without an outlet. So he murmured: + +"My dear child, everyone has hard things to bear. I understand your +sorrow and I promise you--" + +She stammered: "You are good." + +They were silent. He looked at her. She had in her glance something +of tenderness, of weakness; and suddenly she raised both her arms, +as if she would draw him to her; he bent over her, feeling that she +called him, and their lips met. + +For a long time they remained thus, their eyes closed. + +But, knowing that he would lose his head, he drew away. She smiled +at him now, most tenderly; and, with both her hands clinging to his +shoulders, she held him. + +"I am going to call your mother," he said. + +She murmured: "Just a second more. I am so happy." + +Then after a silence, she said in a tone so low that it could +scarcely be heard: "Will you love me very much? Tell me!" + +He kneeled beside her bed, and kissing the hand she had given him, +said: "I adore you." But some one was walking near the door. He +arose with a bound, and called in his ordinary voice, which seemed +nevertheless a little ironical: "You may come in. It is all right +now." + +The Marquise threw herself on her daughter, with both arms open, and +clasped her frantically, covering her countenance with tears, while +Servigny with radiant soul and quivering body went out upon the +balcony to breathe the fresh air of the night, humming to himself +the old couplet: + + "A woman changeth oft her mind: + Yet fools still trust in womankind." + + + + + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Yvette, by Henri Rene Guy de Maupassant + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK YVETTE *** + +***** This file should be named 3664.txt or 3664.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/3/6/6/3664/ + +Produced by Charles Franks and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team. 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FOR PUBLIC DOMAIN ETEXTS*Ver.06/12/01*END* +[Portions of this header are copyright (C) 2001 by Michael S. Hart +and may be reprinted only when these Etexts are free of all fees.] +[Project Gutenberg is a TradeMark and may not be used in any sales +of Project Gutenberg Etexts or other materials be they hardware or +software or any other related product without express permission.] + + + + + +This etext was produced by Charles Franks and the +Online Distributed Proofreading Team. + + + + + +Yvette + +by Henri Rene Guy de Maupassant + + + + +CONTENTS + + I. The Initiation of Saval + II. Bougival and Love +III. Enlightenment + IV. From Emotion to Philosophy + + + + +CHAPTER I. + +The Initiation of Saval + + +As they were leaving the Cafe Riche, Jean de Servigny said to Leon +Saval: "If you don't object, let us walk. The weather is too fine to +take a cab." + +His friend answered: "I would like nothing better." + +Jean replied: "It is hardly eleven o'clock. We shall arrive much +before midnight, so let us go slowly." + +A restless crowd was moving along the boulevard, that throng +peculiar to summer nights, drinking, chatting, and flowing like a +river, filled with a sense of comfort and joy. Here and there a cafe +threw a flood of light upon a knot of patrons drinking at little +tables on the sidewalk, which were covered with bottles and glasses, +hindering the passing of the hurrying multitude. On the pavement the +cabs with their red, blue, or green lights dashed by, showing for a +second, in the glimmer, the thin shadow of the horse, the raised +profile of the coachman, and the dark box of the carriage. The cabs +of the Urbaine Company made clear and rapid spots when their yellow +panels were struck by the light. + +The two friends walked with slow steps, cigars in their mouths, in +evening dress and overcoats on their arms, with a flower in their +buttonholes, and their hats a trifle on one side, as men will +carelessly wear them sometimes, after they have dined well and the +air is mild. + +They had been linked together since their college days by a close, +devoted, and firm affection. Jean de Servigny, small, slender, a +trifle bald, rather frail, with elegance of mien, curled mustache, +bright eyes, and fine lips, was a man who seemed born and bred upon +the boulevard. He was tireless in spite of his languid air, strong +in spite of his pallor, one of those slight Parisians to whom +gymnastic exercise, fencing, cold shower and hot baths give a +nervous, artificial strength. He was known by his marriage as well +as by his wit, his fortune, his connections, and by that +sociability, amiability, and fashionable gallantry peculiar to +certain men. + +A true Parisian, furthermore, light, sceptical, changeable, +captivating, energetic, and irresolute, capable of everything and of +nothing; selfish by principle and generous on occasion, he lived +moderately upon his income, and amused himself with hygiene. +Indifferent and passionate, he gave himself rein and drew back +constantly, impelled by conflicting instincts, yielding to all, and +then obeying, in the end, his own shrewd man-about-town judgment, +whose weather-vane logic consisted in following the wind and drawing +profit from circumstances without taking the trouble to originate +them. + +His companion, Leon Saval, rich also, was one of those superb and +colossal figures who make women turn around in the streets to look +at them. He gave the idea of a statue turned into a man, a type of a +race, like those sculptured forms which are sent to the Salons. Too +handsome, too tall, too big, too strong, he sinned a little from the +excess of everything, the excess of his qualities. He had on hand +countless affairs of passion. + +As they reached the Vaudeville theater, he asked: "Have you warned +that lady that you are going to take me to her house to see her?" + +Servigny began to laugh: "Forewarn the Marquise Obardi! Do you warn +an omnibus driver that you shall enter his stage at the corner of +the boulevard?" + +Saval, a little perplexed, inquired: "What sort of person is this +lady?" + +His friend replied: "An upstart, a charming hussy, who came from no +one knows where, who made her appearance one day, nobody knows how, +among the adventuresses of Paris, knowing perfectly well how to take +care of herself. Besides, what difference does it make to us? They +say that her real name, her maiden name--for she still has every +claim to the title of maiden except that of innocence--is Octavia +Bardin, from which she constructs the name Obardi by prefixing the +first letter of her first name and dropping the last letter of the +last name." + +"Moreover, she is a lovable woman, and you, from your physique, are +inevitably bound to become her lover. Hercules is not introduced +into Messalina's home without making some disturbance. Nevertheless +I make bold to add that if there is free entrance to this house, +just as there is in bazaars, you are not exactly compelled to buy +what is for sale. Love and cards are on the programme, but nobody +compels you to take up with either. And the exit is as free as the +entrance." + +"She settled down in the Etoile district, a suspicious neighborhood, +three years ago, and opened her drawing-room to that froth of the +continents which comes to Paris to practice its various formidable +and criminal talents." + +"I don't remember just how I went to her house. I went as we all go, +because there is card playing, because the women are compliant, and +the men dishonest. I love that social mob of buccaneers with +decorations of all sorts of orders, all titled, and all entirely +unknown at their embassies, except to the spies. They are always +dragging in the subject of honor, quoting the list of their +ancestors on the slightest provocation, and telling the story of +their life at every opportunity, braggarts, liars, sharpers, +dangerous as their cards, false as their names, brave because they +have to be, like the assassins who can not pluck their victims +except by exposing their own lives. In a word, it is the aristocracy +of the bagnio." + +"I like them. They are interesting to fathom and to know, amusing to +listen to, often witty, never commonplace as the ordinary French +guests. Their women are always pretty, with a little flavor of +foreign knavery, with the mystery of their past existence, half of +which, perhaps, spent in a House of Correction. They generally have +fine eyes and glorious hair, the true physique of the profession, an +intoxicating grace, a seductiveness which drives men to folly, an +unwholesome, irresistible charm! They conquer like the highwaymen of +old. They are rapacious creatures; true birds of prey. I like them, +too." + +"The Marquise Obardi is one of the type of these elegant good-for- +nothings. Ripe and pretty, with a feline charm, you can see that she +is vicious to the marrow. Everybody has a good time at her house, +with cards, dancing, and suppers; in fact there is everything which +goes to make up the pleasures of fashionable society life." + +"Have you ever been or are you now her lover?" Leon Saval asked. + +"I have not been her lover, I am not now, and I never shall be. I +only go to the house to see her daughter." + +"Ah! She has a daughter, then?" + +"A daughter! A marvel, my dear man. She is the principal attraction +of the den to-day. Tall, magnificent, just ripe, eighteen years old, +as fair as her mother is dark, always merry, always ready for an +entertainment, always laughing, and ready to dance like mad. Who +will be the lucky man, to capture her, or who has already done so? +Nobody can tell that. She has ten of us in her train, all hoping." + +"Such a daughter in the hands of a woman like the Marquise is a +fortune. And they play the game together, the two charmers. No one +knows just what they are planning. Perhaps they are waiting for a +better bargain than I should prove. But I tell you that I shall +close the bargain if I ever get a chance." + +"That girl Yvette absolutely baffles me, moreover. She is a mystery. +If she is not the most complete monster of astuteness and perversity +that I have ever seen, she certainly is the most marvelous +phenomenon of innocence that can be imagined. She lives in that +atmosphere of infamy with a calm and triumphing ease which is either +wonderfully profligate or entirely artless. Strange scion of an +adventuress, cast upon the muck-heap of that set, like a magnificent +plant nurtured upon corruption, or rather like the daughter of some +noble race, of some great artist, or of some grand lord, of some +prince or dethroned king, tossed some evening into her mother's +arms, nobody can make out what she is nor what she thinks. But you +are going to see her." + +Saval began to laugh and said: "You are in love with her." + +"No. I am on the list, which is not precisely the same thing. I will +introduce you to my most serious rivals. But the chances are in my +favor. I am in the lead, and some little distinction is shown to +me." + +"You are in love," Saval repeated. + +"No. She disquiets me, seduces and disturbs me, attracts and +frightens me away. I mistrust her as I would a trap, and I long for +her as I long for a sherbet when I am thirsty. I yield to her charm, +and I only approach her with the apprehension that I would feel +concerning a man who was known to be a skillful thief. to her +presence I have an irrational impulse toward belief in her possible +purity and a very reasonable mistrust of her not less probable +trickery. I feel myself in contact with an abnormal being, beyond +the pale of natural laws, an exquisite or detestable creature--I +don't know which." + +For the third time Saval said: "I tell you that you are in love. You +speak of her with the magniloquence of a poet and the feeling of a +troubadour. Come, search your heart, and confess." + +Servigny walked a few steps without answering. Then he replied: + +"That is possible, after all. In any case, she fills my mind almost +continually. yes, perhaps I am in love. I dream about her too much. +I think of her when I am asleep and when I awake--that is surely a +grave indication. Her face follows me, accompanies me ceaselessly, +ever before me, around me, with me. Is this love, this physical +infatuation? Her features are so stamped upon my vision that I see +her the moment I shut my eyes. My heart beats quickly every time I +look at her, I don't deny it." + +"So I am in love with her, but in a queer fashion. I have the +strongest desire for her, and yet the idea of making her my wife +would seem to me a folly, a piece of stupidity, a monstrous thing: +And I have a little fear of her, as well, the fear which a bird +feels over which a hawk is hovering." + +"And again I am jealous of her, jealous of all of which I am +ignorant in her incomprehensible heart. I am always wondering: 'Is +she a charming youngster or a wretched jade?' She says things that +would make an army shudder; but so does a parrot. She is at times so +indiscreet and yet modest that I am forced to believe in her +spotless purity, and again so incredibly artless that I must suspect +that she has never been chaste. She allures me, excites me, like a +woman of a certain category, and at the same time acts like an +impeccable virgin. She seems to love me and yet makes fun of me; she +deports herself in public as if she were my mistress and treats me +in private as if I were her brother or footman." + +"There are times when I fancy that she has as many lovers as her +mother. And at other times I imagine that she suspects absolutely +nothing of that sort of life, you understand. Furthermore, she is a +great novel reader. I am at present, while awaiting something +better, her book purveyor. She calls me her 'librarian.' Every week +the New Book Store sends her, on my orders, everything new that has +appeared, and I believe that she reads everything at random. It must +make a strange sort of mixture in her head." + +"That kind of literary hasty-pudding accounts perhaps for some of +the girl's peculiar ways. When a young woman looks at existence +through the medium of fifteen thousand novels, she must see it in a +strange light, and construct queer ideas about matters and things in +general. As for me, I am waiting. It is certain at any rate that I +never have had for any other woman the devotion which I have had for +her. And still it is quite certain that I shall never marry her. So +if she has had numbers, I shall swell the number. And if she has +not, I shall take the first ticket, just as I would do for a street +car." + +"The case is very simple. Of course, she will never marry. Who in +the world would marry the Marquise Obardi's daughter, the child of +Octavia Bardin? Nobody, for a thousand reasons. Where would they +ever find a husband for her? In society? Never. The mother's house +is a sort of liberty-hall whose patronage is attracted by the +daughter. Girls don't get married under those conditions." + +"Would she find a husband among the trades-people? Still less would +that be possible. And besides the Marquise is not the woman to make +a bad bargain; she will give Yvette only to a man of high position, +and that man she will never discover." + +"Then perhaps she will look among the common people. Still less +likely. There is no solution of the problem, then. This young lady +belongs neither to society, nor to the tradesmen's class, nor to the +common people, and she can never enter any of these ranks by +marriage." + +"She belongs through her mother, her birth, her education, her +inheritance, her manners, and her customs, to the vortex of the most +rapid life of Paris. She can never escape it, save by becoming a +nun, which is not at all probable with her manners and tastes. She +has only one possible career, a life of pleasure. She will come to +it sooner or later, if indeed she has not already begun to tread its +primrose path. She cannot escape her fate. From being a young girl +she will take the inevitable step, quite simply. And I would like to +be the pivot of this transformation." + +"I am waiting. There are many lovers. You will see among them a +Frenchman, Monsieur de Belvigne; a Russian, called Prince Kravalow, +and an Italian, Chevalier Valreali, who have all announced their +candidacies and who are consequently maneuvering to the best of +their ability. In addition to these there are several freebooters of +less importance. The Marquise waits and watches. But I think that +she has views about me. She knows that I am very rich, and she makes +less of the others." + +"Her drawing-room is, moreover, the most astounding that I know of, +in such, exhibitions. You even meet very decent men there, like +ourselves. As for the women, she has culled the best there is from +the basket of pickpockets. Nobody knows where she found them. It is +a set apart from Bohemia, apart from everything. She has had one +inspiration showing genius, and that is the knack of selecting +especially those adventuresses who have children, generally girls. +So that a fool might believe that in her house he was among +respectable women!" They had reached the avenue of the Champs- +Elysees. A gentle breeze softly stirred the leaves and touched the +faces of passers-by, like the breaths of a giant fan, waving +somewhere in the sky. Silent shadows wandered beneath the trees; +others, on benches, made a dark spot. And these shadows spoke very +low, as if they were telling each other important or shameful +secrets. + +"You can't imagine what a collection of fictitious titles are met in +this lair," said Servigny, "By the way, I shall present you by the +name of Count Saval; plain Saval would not do at all." + +"Oh, no, indeed!" cried his friend; "I would not have anyone think +me capable of borrowing a title, even for an evening, even among +those people. Ah, no!" + +Servigny began to laugh. + +"How stupid you are! Why, in that set they call me the Duke de +Servigny. I don't know how nor why. But at any rate the Duke de +Servigny I am and shall remain, without complaining or protesting. +It does not worry me. I should have no footing there whatever +without a title." + +But Saval would not be convinced. + +"Well, you are of rank, and so you may remain. But, as for me, no. I +shall be the only common person in the drawing-room. So much the +worse, or, so much the better. It will be my mark of distinction and +superiority." + +Servigny was obstinate. + +"I tell you that it is not possible. Why, it would almost seem +monstrous. You would have the effect of a ragman at a meeting of +emperors. Let me do as I like. I shall introduce you as the Vice-Roi +du 'Haut-Mississippi,' and no one will be at all astonished. When a +man takes on greatness, he can't take too much." + +"Once more, no, I do not wish it." + +"Very well, have your way. But, in fact, I am very foolish to try to +convince you. I defy you to get in without some one giving you a +title, just as they give a bunch of violets to the ladies at the +entrance to certain stores." + +They turned to the right in the Rue de Barrie, mounted one flight of +stairs in a fine modern house, and gave their overcoats and canes +into the hands of four servants in knee-breeches. A warm odor, as of +a festival assembly, filled the air, an odor of flowers, perfumes, +and women; and a composed and continuous murmur came from the +adjoining rooms, which were filled with people. + +A kind of master of ceremonies, tall, erect, wide of girth, serious, +his face framed in white whiskers, approached the newcomers, asking +with a short and haughty bow: "Whom shall I announce?" + +"Monsieur Saval," Servigny replied. + +Then with a loud voice, the man opening the door cried out to the +crowd of guests: + +"Monsieur the Duke de Servigny." + +"Monsieur the Baron Saval." + +The first drawing-room was filled with women. The first thing which +attracted attention was the display of bare shoulders, above a flood +of brilliant gowns. + +The mistress of the house who stood talking with three friends, +turned and came forward with a majestic step, with grace in her mien +and a smile on her lips. Her forehead was narrow and very low, and +was covered with a mass of glossy black hair, encroaching a little +upon the temples. + +She was tall, a trifle too large, a little too stout, over ripe, but +very pretty, with a heavy, warm, potent beauty. Beneath that mass of +hair, full of dreams and smiles, rendering her mysteriously +captivating, were enormous black eyes. Her nose was a little narrow, +her mouth large and infinitely seductive, made to speak and to +conquer. + +Her greatest charm was in her voice. It came from that mouth as +water from a spring, so natural, so light, so well modulated, so +clear, that there was a physical pleasure in listening to it. It was +a joy for the ear to hear the flexible words flow with the grace of +a babbling brook, and it was a joy for the eyes to see those pretty +lips, a trifle too red, open as the words rippled forth. + +She gave one hand to Servigny, who kissed it, and dropping her fan +on its little gold chain, she gave the other to Saval, saying to +him: "You are welcome, Baron, all the Duke's friends are at home +here." + +Then she fixed her brilliant eyes upon the Colossus who had just +been introduced to her. She had just the slightest down on her upper +lip, a suspicion of a mustache, which seemed darker when she spoke. +There was a pleasant odor about her, pervading, intoxicating, some +perfume of America or of the Indies. Other people came in, +marquesses, counts or princes. She said to Servigny, with the +graciousness of a mother: "You will find my daughter in the other +parlor. Have a good time, gentlemen, the house is yours." + +And she left them to go to those who had come later, throwing at +Saval that smiling and fleeting glance which women use to show that +they are pleased. Servigny grasped his friend's arm. + +"I will pilot you," said he. "In this parlor where we now are, +women, the temples of the fleshly, fresh or otherwise. Bargains as +good as new, even better, for sale or on lease. At the right, +gaming, the temple of money. You understand all about that. At the +lower end, dancing, the temple of innocence, the sanctuary, the +market for young girls. They are shown off there in every light. +Even legitimate marriages are tolerated. It is the future, the hope, +of our evenings. And the most curious part of this museum of moral +diseases are these young girls whose souls are out of joint, just +like the limbs of the little clowns born of mountebanks. Come and +look at them." + +He bowed, right and left, courteously, a compliment on his lips, +sweeping each low-gowned woman whom he knew with the look of an +expert. + +The musicians, at the end of the second parlor, were playing a +waltz; and the two friends stopped at the door to look at them. A +score of couples were whirling-the men with a serious expression, +and the women with a fixed smile on their lips. They displayed a +good deal of shoulder, like their mothers; and the bodices of some +were only held in place by a slender ribbon, disclosing at times +more than is generally shown. + +Suddenly from the end of the room a tall girl darted forward, +gliding through the crowd, brushing against the dancers, and holding +her long train in her left hand. She ran with quick little steps as +women do in crowds, and called out: "Ah! How is Muscade? How do you +do, Muscade?" + +Her features wore an expression of the bloom of life, the +illumination of happiness. Her white flesh seemed to shine, the +golden-white flesh which goes with red hair. The mass of her +tresses, twisted on her head, fiery, flaming locks, nestled against +her supple neck, which was still a little thin. + +She seemed to move just as her mother was made to speak, so natural, +noble, and simple were her gestures. A person felt a moral joy and +physical pleasure in seeing her walk, stir about, bend her head, or +lift her arm. "Ah! Muscade, how do you do, Muscade?" she repeated. + +Servigny shook her hand violently, as he would a man's, and said: +"Mademoiselle Yvette, my friend, Baron Saval." + +"Good evening, Monsieur. Are you always as tall as that?" + +Servigny replied in that bantering tone which he always used with +her, in order to conceal his mistrust and his uncertainty: + +"No, Mam'zelle. He has put on his greatest dimensions to please your +mother, who loves a colossus." + +And the young girl remarked with a comic seriousness: "Very well But +when you come to see me you must diminish a little if you please. I +prefer the medium height. Now Muscade has just the proportions which +I like." + +And she gave her hand to the newcomer. Then she asked: "Do you +dance, Muscade? Come, let us waltz." Without replying, with a quick +movement, passionately, Servigny clasped her waist and they +disappeared with the fury of a whirlwind. + +They danced more rapidly than any of the others, whirled and +whirled, and turned madly, so close together that they seemed but +one, and with the form erect, the legs almost motionless, as if some +invisible mechanism, concealed beneath their feet, caused them to +twirl. They appeared tireless. The other dancers stopped from time +to time. They still danced on, alone. They seemed not to know where +they were nor what they were doing, as if, they had gone far away +from the ball, in an ecstasy. The musicians continued to play, with +their looks fixed upon this mad couple; all the guests gazed at +them, and when finally they did stop dancing, everyone applauded +them. + +She was a little flushed, with strange eyes, ardent and timid, less +daring than a moment before, troubled eyes, blue, yet with a pupil +so black that they seemed hardly natural. Servigny appeared giddy. +He leaned against a door to regain his composure. + +"You have no head, my poor Muscade, I am steadier than you," said +Yvette to Servigny. He smiled nervously, and devoured her with a +look. His animal feelings revealed themselves in his eyes and in the +curl of his lips. She stood beside him looking down, and her bosom +rose and fell in short gasps as he looked at her. + +Then she said softly: "Really, there are times when you are like a +tiger about to spring upon his prey. Come, give me your arm, and let +us find your friend." + +Silently he offered her his arm and they went down the long drawing- +room together. + +Saval was not alone, for the Marquise Obardi had rejoined him. She +conversed with him on ordinary and fashionable subjects with a +seductiveness in her tones which intoxicated him. And, looking at +her with his mental eye, it seemed to him that her lips, uttered +words far different from those which they formed. When she saw +Servigny her face immediately lighted up, and turning toward him she +said: + +"You know, my dear Duke, that I have just leased a villa at Bougival +for two months, and I count upon your coming to see me there, and +upon your friend also. Listen. We take possession next Monday, and +shall expect both of you to dinner the following Saturday. We shall +keep you over Sunday." + +Perfectly serene and tranquil Yvette smiled, saying with a decision +which swept away hesitation on his part: + +"Of course Muscade will come to dinner on Saturday. We have only to +ask him, for he and I intend to commit a lot of follies in the +country." + +He thought he divined the birth of a promise in her smile, and in +her voice he heard what he thought was invitation. + +Then the Marquise turned her big, black eyes upon Saval: "And you +will, of course, come, Baron?" + +With a smile that forbade doubt, he bent toward her, saying, "I +shall be only too charmed, Madame." + +Then Yvette murmured with malice that was either naive or +traitorous: "We will set all the world by the ears down there, won't +we, Muscade, and make my regiment of admirers fairly mad." And with +a look, she pointed out a group of men who were looking at them from +a little distance. + +Said Servigny to her: "As many follies as YOU may please, +Mam'zelle." + +In speaking to Yvette, Servigny never used the word "Mademoiselle," +by reason of his close and long intimacy with her. + +Then Saval asked: "Why does Mademoiselle always call my friend +Servigny 'Muscade'?" + +Yvette assumed a very frank air and said: + +"I will tell you: It is because he always slips through my hands. +Now I think I have him, and then I find I have not." + +The Marquise, with her eyes upon Saval, arid evidently preoccupied, +said in a careless tone: "You children are very funny." + +But Yvette bridled up: "I do not intend to be funny; I am simply +frank. Muscade pleases me, and is always deserting me, and that is +what annoys me." + +Servigny bowed profoundly, saying: "I will never leave you any more, +Mam'zelle, neither day nor night." She made a gesture of horror: + +"My goodness! no--what do you mean? You are all right during the +day, but at night you might embarrass me." + +With an air of impertinence he asked: "And why?" + +Yvette responded calmly and audaciously, "Because you would not look +well en deshabille." + +The Marquise, without appearing at all disturbed, said: "What +extraordinary subjects for conversation. One would think that you +were not at all ignorant of such things." + +And Servigny jokingly added: "That is also my opinion, Marquise." + +Yvette turned her eyes upon him, and in a haughty, yet wounded, tone +said: "You are becoming very vulgar--just as you have been several +times lately." And turning quickly she appealed to an individual +standing by: + +"Chevalier, come and defend me from insult." + +A thin, brown man, with an easy carriage, came forward. + +"Who is the culprit?" said he, with a constrained smile. + +Yvette pointed out Servigny with a nod of her head: + +"There he is, but I like him better than I do you, because he is +less of a bore." + +The Chevalier Valreali bowed: + +"I do what I can, Mademoiselle. I may have less ability, but not +less devotion." + +A gentleman came forward, tall and stout, with gray whiskers, saying +in loud tones: "Mademoiselle Yvette, I am your most devoted slave." + +Yvette cried: "Ah, Monsieur de Belvigne." Then turning toward Saval, +she introduced him. + +"My last adorer--big, fat, rich, and stupid. Those are the kind I +like. A veritable drum-major--but of the table d'hote. But see, you +are still bigger than he. How shall I nickname you? Good! I have it. +I shall call you 'M. Colossus of Rhodes, Junior,' from the Colossus +who certainly was your father. But you two ought to have very +interesting things to say to each other up there, above the heads of +us all--so, by-bye." + +And she left them quickly, going to the orchestra to make the +musicians strike up a quadrille. + +Madame Obardi seemed preoccupied. In a soft voice she said to +Servigny: + +"You are always teasing her. You will warp her character and bring +out many bad traits." + +Servigny replies: "Why, haven't you finished her education?" + +She appeared not to understand, and continued talking in a friendly +way. But she noticed a solemn looking man, wearing a perfect +constellation of crosses and orders, standing near her, and she ran +to him; + +"Ah Prince, Prince, what good fortune!" + +Servigny took Saval's arm and drew him away: + +"That is the latest serious suitor, Prince Kravalow. Isn't she +superb?" + +"To my mind they are both superb. The mother would suffice for me +perfectly," answered Saval. + +Servigny nodded and said: "At your disposal, my dear boy." + +The dancers elbowed them aside, as they were forming for a +quadrille. + +"Now let us go and see the sharpers," said Servigny. And they +entered the gambling-room. + +Around each table stood a group of men, looking on. There was very +little conversation. At times the clink of gold coins, tossed upon +the green cloth or hastily seized, added its sound to the murmur of +the players, just as if the money was putting in its word among the +human voices. + +All the men were decorated with various orders, and odd ribbons, and +they all wore the same severe expression, with different +countenances. The especially distinguishing feature was the beard. + +The stiff American with his horseshoe, the haughty Englishman with +his fan-beard open on his breast, the Spaniard with his black fleece +reaching to the eyes, the Roman with that huge mustache which Italy +copied from Victor Emmanuel, the Austrian with his whiskers and +shaved chin, a Russian general whose lip seemed armed with two +twisted lances, and a Frenchman with a dainty mustache, displayed +the fancies of all the barbers in the world. + +"You won't join the game?" asked Servigny. + +"No, shall you?" + +"Not now. If you are ready to go, we will come back some quieter +day. There are too many people here to-day, and we can't do +anything." + +"Well, let us go." + +And they disappeared behind a door-curtain into the hall. As soon as +they were in the street Servigny asked: "Well, what do you think of +it?" + +"It certainly is interesting, but I fancy the women's side of it +more than the men's." + +"Indeed! Those women are the best of the tribe for us. Don't you +find that you breathe the odor of love among them, just as you scent +the perfumes at a hairdresser's?" + +"Really such houses are the place for one to go. And what experts, +my dear fellow! What artists! Have you ever eaten bakers' cakes? +They look well, but they amount to nothing. The man who bakes them +only knows how to make bread. Well! the love of a woman in ordinary +society always reminds me of these bake-shop trifles, while the love +you find at houses like the Marquise Obardi's, don't you see, is the +real sweetmeat. Oh! they know how to make cakes, these charming +pastry-cooks. Only you pay five sous, at their shops, for what costs +two sous elsewhere." + +"Who is the master of the house just now?" asked Saval. + +Servigny shrugged his shoulders, signifying his ignorance. + +"I don't know, the latest one known was an English peer, but he left +three months ago. At present she must live off the common herd, or +the gambling, perhaps, and on the gamblers, for she has her +caprices. But tell me, it is understood that we dine with her on +Saturday at Bougival, is it not? People are more free in the +country, and I shall succeed in finding out what ideas Yvette has in +her head!" + +"I should like nothing better," replied Saval. "I have nothing to do +that day." + +Passing down through the Champs-Elysees, under the steps they +disturbed a couple making love on one of the benches, and Servigny +muttered: "What foolishness and what a serious matter at the same +time! How commonplace and amusing love is, always the same and +always different! And the beggar who gives his sweetheart twenty +sous gets as much return as I would for ten thousand francs from +some Obardi, no younger and no less stupid perhaps than this +nondescript. What nonsense!" + +He said nothing for a few minutes; then he began again: "All the +same, it would be good to become Yvette's first lover. Oh! for that +I would give--" + +He did not add what he would give, and Saval said good night to him +as they reached the corner of the Rue Royale. + + + + +CHAPTER II. + +Bougival and Love + + +They had set the table on the veranda which overlooked the river. +The Printemps villa, leased by the Marquise Obardi, was halfway up +this hill, just at the corner of the Seine, which turned before the +garden wall, flowing toward Marly. + +Opposite the residence, the island of Croissy formed a horizon of +tall trees, a mass of verdure, and they could see a long stretch of +the big river as far as the floating cafe of La Grenouillere hidden +beneath the foliage. + +The evening fell, one of those calm evenings at the waterside, full +of color yet soft, one of those peaceful evenings which produces a +sensation of pleasure. No breath of air stirred the branches, no +shiver of wind ruffled the smooth clear surface of the Seine. It was +not too warm, it was mild--good weather to live in. The grateful +coolness of the banks of the Seine rose toward a serene sky. + +The sun disappeared behind the trees to shine on other lands, and +one seemed to absorb the serenity of the already sleeping earth, to +inhale, in the peace of space, the life of the infinite. + +As they left the drawing-room to seat themselves at the table +everyone was joyous. A softened gaiety filled their hearts, they +felt that it would be so delightful to dine there in the country, +with that great river and that twilight for a setting, breathing +that pure and fragrant air. + +The Marquise had taken Saval's arm, and Yvette, Servigny's. The four +were alone by themselves. The two women seemed entirely different +persons from what they were at Paris, especially Yvette. She talked +but little, and seemed languid and grave. + +Saval, hardly recognizing her in this frame of mind, asked her: +"What is the matter, Mademoiselle? I find you changed since last +week. You have become quite a serious person." + +"It is the country that does that for me," she replied. "I am not +the same, I feel queer; besides I am never two days alike. To-day I +have the air of a mad woman, and to-morrow shall be as grave as an +elegy. I change with the weather, I don't know why. You see, I am +capable of anything, according to the moment. There are days when I +would like to kill people,--not animals, I would never kill +animals,--but people, yes, and other days when I weep at a mere +thing. A lot of different ideas pass through my head. It depends, +too, a good deal on how I get up. Every morning, on waking, I can +tell just what I shall be in the evening. Perhaps it is our dreams +that settle it for us, and it depends on the book I have just read." + +She was clad in a white flannel suit which delicately enveloped her +in the floating softness of the material. Her bodice, with full +folds, suggested, without displaying and without restraining, her +free chest, which was firm and already ripe. And her superb neck +emerged from a froth of soft lace, bending with gentle movements, +fairer than her gown, a pilaster of flesh, bearing the heavy mass of +her golden hair. + +Servigny looked at her for a long time: "You are adorable this +evening, Mam'zelle," said he, "I wish I could always see you like +this." + +"Don't make a declaration, Muscade. I should take it seriously, and +that might cost you dear." + +The Marquise seemed happy, very happy. All in black, richly dressed +in a plain gown which showed her strong, full lines, a bit of red at +the bodice, a cincture of red carnations falling from her waist like +a chain, and fastened at the hips, and a red rose in her dark hair, +she carried in all her person something fervid,--in that simple +costume, in those flowers which seemed to bleed, in her look, in her +slow speech, in her peculiar gestures. + +Saval, too, appeared serious and absorbed. From time to time he +stroked his pointed beard, trimmed in the fashion of Henri III., and +seemed to be meditating on the most profound subjects. + +Nobody spoke for several minutes. Then as they were serving the +trout, Servigny remarked: + +"Silence is a good thing, at times. People are often nearer to each +other when they are keeping still than when they are talking. Isn't +that so, Marquise?" + +She turned a little toward him and answered: + +"It is quite true. It is so sweet to think together about agreeable +things." + +She raised her warm glance toward Saval, and they continued for some +seconds looking into each other's eyes. A slight, almost inaudible +movement took place beneath the table. + +Servigny resumed: "Mam'zelle Yvette, you will make me believe that +you are in love if you keep on being as good as that. Now, with whom +could you be in love? Let us think together, if you will; I put +aside the army of vulgar sighers. I'll only take the principal ones. +Is it Prince Kravalow?" + +At this name Yvette awoke: "My poor Muscade, can you think of such a +thing? Why, the Prince has the air of a Russian in a wax-figure +museum, who has won medals in a hairdressing competition." + +"Good! We'll drop the Prince. But you have noticed the Viscount +Pierre de Belvigne?" + +This time she began to laugh, and asked: "Can you imagine me hanging +to the neck of 'Raisine'?" She nicknamed him according to the day, +Raisine, Malvoisie, [Footnote: Preserved grapes and pears, malmsey,- +-a poor wine.] Argenteuil, for she gave everybody nicknames. And she +would murmur to his face: "My dear little Pierre," or "My divine +Pedro, darling Pierrot, give your bow-wow's head to your dear little +girl, who wants to kiss it." + +"Scratch out number two. There still remains the Chevalier Valreali +whom the Marquise seems to favor," continued Servigny. + +Yvette regained all her gaiety: "'Teardrop'? Why he weeps like a +Magdalene. He goes to all the first-class funerals. I imagine myself +dead every time he looks at me." + +"That settles the third. So the lightning will strike Baron Saval, +here." + +"Monsieur the Colossus of Rhodes, Junior? No. He is too strong. It +would seem to me as if I were in love with the triumphal arch of +L'Etoile." + +"Then Mam'zelle, it is beyond doubt that you are in love with me, +for I am the only one of your adorers of whom we have not yet +spoken. I left myself for the last through modesty and through +discretion. It remains for me to thank you." + +She replied with happy grace: "In love with you, Muscade? Ah! no. I +like you, but I don't love you. Wait--I--I don't want to discourage +you. I don't love you--yet. You have a chance--perhaps. Persevere, +Muscade, be devoted, ardent, submissive, full of little attentions +and considerations, docile to my slightest caprices, ready for +anything to please me, and we shall see--later." + +"But, Mam'zelle, I would rather furnish all you demand afterward +than beforehand, if it be the same to you." + +She asked with an artless air: "After what, Muscade?" + +"After you have shown me that you love me, by Jove!" + +"Well, act as if I loved you, and believe it, if you wish." + +"But you--" + +"Be quiet, Muscade; enough on the subject." + +The sun had sunk behind the island, but the whole sky still flamed +like a fire, and the peaceful water of the river seemed changed to +blood. The reflections from the horizon reddened houses, objects, +and persons. The scarlet rose in the Marquise's hair had the +appearance of a splash of purple fallen from the clouds upon her +head. + +As Yvette looked on from her end, the Marquise rested, as if by +carelessness, her bare hand upon Saval's hand; but the young girl +made a motion and the Marquise withdrew her hand with a quick +gesture, pretending to readjust something in the folds of her +corsage. + +Servigny, who was looking at them, said: + +"If you like, Mam'zelle, we will take a walk on the island after +dinner." + +"Oh, yes! That will be delightful. We will go all alone, won't we, +Muscade?" + +"Yes, all alone, Mam'zelle!" + +The vast silence of the horizon, the sleepy tranquillity of the +evening captured heart, body, and voice. There are peaceful, chosen +hours when it becomes almost impossible to talk. + +The servants waited on them noiselessly. The firmamental +conflagration faded away, and the soft night spread its shadows over +the earth. + +"Are you going to stay long in this place?" asked Saval. + +And the Marquise answered, dwelling on each word: "Yes, as long as I +am happy." + +As it was too dark to see, lamps were brought. They cast upon the +table a strange, pale gleam beneath the great obscurity of space; +and very soon a shower of gnats fell upon the tablecloth--the tiny +gnats which immolate themselves by passing over the glass chimneys, +and, with wings and legs scorched, powder the table linen, dishes, +and cups with a kind of gray and hopping dust. + +They swallowed them in the wine, they ate them in the sauces, they +saw them moving on the bread, and had their faces and hands tickled +by the countless swarm of these tiny insects. They were continually +compelled to throw away the beverages, to cover the plates, and +while eating to shield the food with infinite precautions. + +It amused Yvette. Servigny took care to shelter what she bore to her +mouth, to guard her glass, to hold his handkerchief stretched out +over her head like a roof. But the Marquise, disgusted, became +nervous, and the end of the dinner came quickly. Yvette, who had not +forgotten Servigny's proposition, said to him: + +"Now we'll go to the island." + +Her mother cautioned her in a languid tone: "Don't be late, above +all things. We will escort you to the ferry." + +And they started in couples, the young girl and her admirer walking +in front, on the road to the shore. They heard, behind them, the +Marquise and Saval speaking very rapidly in low tones. All was dark, +with a thick, inky darkness. But the sky swarmed with grains of +fire, and seemed to sow them in the river, for the black water was +flecked with stars. + +The frogs were croaking monotonously upon the bank, and numerous +nightingales were uttering their low, sweet song in the calm and +peaceful air. + +Yvette suddenly said: "Gracious! They are not walking behind us any +more, where are they?" And she called out: "Mamma!" No voice +replied. The young girl resumed: "At any rate, they can't be far +away, for I heard them just now." + +Servigny murmured: "They must have gone back. Your mother was cold, +perhaps." And he drew her along. + +Before them a light gleamed. It was the tavern of Martinet, +restaurant-keeper and fisherman. At their call a man came out of the +house, and they got into a large boat which was moored among the +weeds of the shore. + +The ferryman took his oars, and the unwieldy barge, as it advanced, +disturbed the sleeping stars upon the water and set them into a mad +dance, which gradually calmed down after they had passed. They +touched the other shore and disembarked beneath the great trees. A +cool freshness of damp earth permeated the air under the lofty and +clustered branches, where there seemed to be as many nightingales as +there were leaves. A distant piano began to play a popular waltz. + +Servigny took Yvette's arm and very gently slipped his hand around +her waist and gave her a slight hug. + +"What are you thinking about?" he said. + +"I? About nothing at all. I am very happy!" + +"Then you don't love me?" + +"Oh, yes, Muscade, I love you, I love you a great deal; only leave +me alone. It is too beautiful here to listen to your nonsense." + +He drew her toward him, although she tried, by little pushes, to +extricate herself, and through her soft flannel gown he felt the +warmth of her flesh. He stammered: + +"Yvette!" + +"Well, what?" + +"I do love you!" + +"But you are not in earnest, Muscade." + +"Oh, yes I am. I have loved you for a long time." + +She continually kept trying to separate herself from him, trying to +release the arm crushed between their bodies. They walked with +difficulty, trammeled by this bond and by these movements, and went +zigzagging along like drunken folk. + +He knew not what to say to her, feeling that he could not talk to a +young girl as he would to a woman. He was perplexed, thinking what +he ought to do, wondering if she consented or did not understand, +and curbing his spirit to find just the right, tender, and decisive +words. He kept saying every second: + +"Yvette! Speak! Yvette!" + +Then, suddenly, risking all, he kissed her on the cheek. She gave a +little start aside, and said with a vexed air: + +"Oh! you are absurd. Are you going to let me alone?" + +The tone of her voice did not at all reveal her thoughts nor her +wishes; and, not seeing her too angry, he applied his lips to the +beginning of her neck, just beneath the golden hair, that charming +spot which he had so often coveted. + +Then she made great efforts to free herself. But he held her +strongly, and placing his other hand on her shoulder, he compelled +her to turn her head toward him and gave her a fond, passionate +kiss, squarely on the mouth. + +She slipped from his arms by a quick undulation of the body, and, +free from his grasp, she disappeared into the darkness with a great +swishing of skirts, like the whir of a bird as it flies away. + +He stood motionless a moment, surprised by her suppleness and her +disappearance, then hearing nothing, he called gently: "Yvette!" + +She did not reply. He began to walk forward, peering through the +shadows, looking in the underbrush for the white spot her dress +should make. All was dark. He cried out more loudly: + +"Mam'zelle Yvette! Mam'zelle Yvette!" + +Nothing stirred. He stopped and listened. The whole island was +still; there was scarcely a rustle of leaves over his head. The +frogs alone continued their deep croakings on the shores. Then he +wandered from thicket to thicket, going where the banks were steep +and bushy and returning to places where they were flat and bare as a +dead man's arm. He proceeded until he was opposite Bougival and +reached the establishment of La Grenouillere, groping the clumps of +trees, calling out continually: + +"Mam'zelle Yvette, where are you? Answer. It is ridiculous! Come, +answer! Don't keep me hunting like this." + +A distant clock began to strike. He counted the hours: twelve. He +had been searching through the island for two hours. Then he thought +that perhaps she had gone home; and he went back very anxiously, +this time by way of the bridge. A servant dozing on a chair was +waiting in the hall. + +Servigny awakened him and asked: "Is it long since Mademoiselle +Yvette came home? I left her at the foot of the place because I had +a call to make." + +And the valet replied: "Oh! yes, Monsieur, Mademoiselle came in +before ten o'clock." + +He proceeded to his room and went to bed. But he could not close his +eyes. That stolen kiss had stirred him to the soul. He kept +wondering what she thought and what she knew. How pretty and +attractive she was! + +His desires, somewhat wearied by the life he led, by all his +procession of sweethearts, by all his explorations in the kingdom of +love, awoke before this singular child, so fresh, irritating, and +inexplicable. He heard one o'clock strike, then two. He could not +sleep at all. He was warm, he felt his heart beat and his temples +throb, and he rose to open the window. A breath of fresh air came +in, which he inhaled deeply. The thick darkness was silent, black, +motionless. But suddenly he perceived before him, in the shadows of +the garden, a shining point; it seemed a little red coal. + +"Well, a cigar!" he said to himself. "It must be Saval," and he +called softly: "Leon!" + +"Is it you, Jean?" + +"Yes. Wait. I'll come down." He dressed, went out, and rejoining his +friend who was smoking astride an iron chair, inquired: "What are +you doing here at this hour?" + +"I am resting," Saval replied. And he began to laugh. Servigny +pressed his hand: "My compliments, my dear fellow. And as for me, I- +-am making a fool of myself." + +"You mean--" + +"I mean that--Yvette and her mother do not resemble each other." + +"What has happened? Tell me." + +Servigny recounted his attempts and their failure. Then he resumed: + +"Decidedly, that little girl worries me. Fancy my not being able to +sleep! What a queer thing a girl is! She appears to be as simple as +anything, and yet you know nothing about her. A woman who has lived +and loved, who knows life, can be quickly understood. But when it +comes to a young virgin, on the contrary, no one can guess anything +about her. At heart I begin to think that she is making sport of +me." + +Saval tilted his chair. He said, very slowly: "Take care, my dear +fellow, she will lead you to marriage. Remember those other +illustrious examples. It was just by this same process that +Mademoiselle de Montijo, who was at least of good family, became +empress. Don't play Napoleon." + +Servigny murmured: "As for that, fear nothing. I am neither a +simpleton nor an emperor. A man must be either one or the other to +make such a move as that. But tell me, are you sleepy?" + +"Not a bit." + +"Will you take a walk along the river?" + +"Gladly." + +They opened the iron gate and began to walk along the river bank +toward Marly. It was the quiet hour which precedes dawn, the hour of +deep sleep, of complete rest, of profound peacefulness. Even the +gentle sounds of the night were hushed. The nightingales sang no +longer; the frogs had finished their hubbub; some kind of an animal +only, probably a bird, was making somewhere a kind of sawing sound, +feeble, monotonous, and regular as a machine. Servigny, who had +moments of poetry, and of philosophy too, suddenly remarked: "Now +this girl completely puzzles me. In arithmetic, one and one make +two. In love one and one ought to make one but they make two just +the same. Have you ever felt that? That need of absorbing a woman in +yourself or disappearing in her? I am not speaking of the animal +embrace, but of that moral and mental eagerness to be but one with a +being, to open to her all one's heart and soul, and to fathom her +thoughts to the depths." + +"And yet you can never lay bare all the fluctuations of her wishes, +desires, and opinions. You can never guess, even slightly, all the +unknown currents, all the mystery of a soul that seems so near, a +soul hidden behind two eyes that look at you, clear as water, +transparent as if there were nothing beneath a soul which talks to +you by a beloved mouth, which seems your very own, so greatly do you +desire it; a soul which throws you by words its thoughts, one by +one, and which, nevertheless, remains further away from you than +those stars are from each other, and more impenetrable. Isn't it +queer, all that?" + +"I don't, ask so much," Saval rejoined. "I don't look behind the +eyes. I care little for the contents, but much for the vessel." And +Servigny replied: "What a singular person Yvette is! How will she +receive me this morning?" + +As they reached the works at Marly they perceived that the sky was +brightening. The cocks began to crow in the poultry-yards. A bird +twittered in a park at the left, ceaselessly reiterating a tender +little theme. + +"It is time to go back," said Saval. + +They returned, and as Servigny entered his room, he saw the horizon +all pink through his open windows. + +Then he shut the blinds, drew the thick, heavy curtains, went back +to bed and fell asleep. He dreamed of Yvette all through his +slumber. An odd noise awoke him. He sat on the side of the bed and +listened, but heard nothing further. Then suddenly there was a +crackling against the blinds, like falling hail. He jumped from the +bed, ran to the window, opened it, and saw Yvette standing in the +path and throwing handfuls of gravel at his face. She was clad in +pink, with a wide-brimmed straw hat ornamented with a mousquetaire +plume, and was laughing mischievously. + +"Well! Muscade, are you asleep? What could you have been doing all +night to make you wake so late? Have you been seeking adventures, my +poor Muscade?" + +He was dazzled by the bright daylight striking him full in the eyes, +still overwhelmed with fatigue, and surprised at the jesting +tranquillity of the young girl. + +"I'll be down in a second, Mam'zelle," he answered. "Just time to +splash my face with water, and I will join you." "Hurry," she cried, +"it is ten o'clock, and besides I have a great plan to unfold to +you, a plot we are going to concoct. You know that we breakfast at +eleven." + +He found her seated on a bench, with a book in her lap, some novel +or other. She took his arm in a familiar and friendly way, with a +frank and gay manner, as if nothing had happened the night before, +and drew him toward the end of the garden. + +"This is my plan," she said. "We will disobey mamma, and you shall +take me presently to La Grenouillere restaurant. I want to see it. +Mamma says that decent women cannot go to the place. Now it is all +the same to me whether persons can go there or cannot. You'll take +me, won't you, Muscade? And we will have a great time--with the +boatmen." + +She exhaled a delicious fragrance, although he could not exactly +define just what light and vague odor enveloped her. It was not one +of those heavy perfumes of her mother, but a discreet breath in +which he fancied he could detect a suspicion of iris powder, and +perhaps a suggestion of vervain. + +Whence emanated that indiscernible perfume? From her dress, her +hair, or her skin? He puzzled over this, and as he was speaking very +close to her, he received full in the face her fresh breath, which +seemed to him just as delicious to inhale. + +Then he thought that this evasive perfume which he was trying to +recognize was perhaps only evoked by her charming eyes, and was +merely a sort of deceptive emanation of her young and alluring +grace. + +"That is agreed, isn't it, Muscade? As it will be very warm after +breakfast, mamma will not go out. She always feels the heat very +much. We will leave her with your friend, and you shall take me. +They will think that we have gone into the forest. If you knew how +much it will amuse me to see La Grenouillere!" + +They reached the iron gate opposite the Seine. A flood of sunshine +fell upon the slumberous, shining river. A slight heat-mist rose +from it, a sort of haze of evaporated water, which spread over the +surface of the stream a faint gleaming vapor. + +From time to time, boats passed by, a quick yawl or a heavy passage +boat, and short or long whistles could be heard, those of the trains +which every Sunday poured the citizens of Paris into the suburbs, +and those of the steamboats signaling their approach to pass the +locks at Marly. + +But a tiny bell sounded. Breakfast was announced, and they went back +into the house. The repast was a silent one. A heavy July noon +overwhelmed the earth, and oppressed humanity. The heat seemed +thick, and paralyzed both mind and body. The sluggish words would +not leave the lips, and all motion seemed laborious, as if the air +had become a resisting medium, difficult to traverse. Only Yvette, +although silent, seemed animated and nervous with impatience. As +soon as they had finished the last course she said: + +"If we were to go for a walk in the forest, it would be deliciously +cool under the trees." + +The Marquise murmured with a listless air: "Are you mad? Does anyone +go out in such weather?" + +And the young girl, delighted, rejoined: "Oh, well! We will leave +the Baron to keep you company. Muscade and I will climb the hill and +sit on the grass and read." + +And turning toward Servigny she asked: "That is understood?" + +"At your service, Mam'zelle," he replied. + +Yvette ran to get her hat. The Marquise shrugged her shoulders with +a sigh. "She certainly is mad." she said. + +Then with an indolence in her amorous and lazy gestures, she gave +her pretty white hand to the Baron, who kissed it softly. Yvette and +Servigny started. They went along the river, crossed the bridge and +went on to the island, and then seated themselves on the bank, +beneath the willows, for it was too soon to go to La Grenouillere. + +The young girl at once drew a book from her pocket and smilingly +said: "Muscade, you are going to read to me." And she handed him the +volume. + +He made a motion as if of fright. "I, Mam'zelle? I don't know how to +read!" + +She replied with gravity: "Come, no excuses, no objections; you are +a fine suitor, you! All for nothing, is that it? Is that your +motto?" + +He took the book, opened it, and was astonished. It was a treatise +on entomology. A history of ants by an English author. And as he +remained inert, believing that he was making sport of her, she said +with impatience: "Well, read!" + +"Is it a wager, or just a simple fad?" he asked. + +"No, my dear. I saw that book in a shop. They told me that it was +the best authority on ants and I thought that it would be +interesting to learn about the life of these little insects while +you see them running over the grass; so read, if you please." + +She stretched herself flat upon the grass, her elbows resting upon +the ground, her head between her hands, her eyes fixed upon the +ground. He began to read as follows: + +"The anthropoid apes are undoubtedly the animals which approach +nearest to man by their anatomical structure, but if we consider the +habits of the ants, their organization into societies, their vast +communities, the houses and roads that they construct, their custom +of domesticating animals, and sometimes even of making slaves of +them, we are compelled to admit that they have the right to claim a +place near to man in the scale of intelligence." + +He continued in a monotonous voice, stopping from time to time to +ask: "Isn't that enough?" + +She shook her head, and having caught an ant on the end of a severed +blade of grass, she amused herself by making it go from one end to +the other of the sprig, which she tipped up whenever the insect +reached one of the ends. She listened with mute and contented +attention to all the wonderful details of the life of these frail +creatures: their subterranean homes; the manner in which they seize, +shut up, and feed plant-lice to drink the sweet milk which they +secrete, as we keep cows in our barns; their custom of domesticating +little blind insects which clean the anthills, and of going to war +to capture slaves who will take care of their victors with such +tender solicitude that the latter even lose the habit of feeding +themselves. + +And little by little, as if a maternal tenderness had sprung up in +her heart for the poor insect which was so tiny and so intelligent, +Yvette made it climb on her finger, looking at it with a moved +expression, almost wanting to embrace it. + +And as Servigny read of the way in which they live in communities, +and play games of strength and skill among themselves, the young +girl grew enthusiastic and sought to kiss the insect which escaped +her and began to crawl over her face. Then she uttered a piercing +cry, as if she had been threatened by a terrible danger, and with +frantic gestures tried to brush it off her face. With a loud laugh +Servigny caught it near her tresses and imprinted on the spot where +he had seized it a long kiss without Yvette withdrawing her +forehead. + +Then she exclaimed as she rose: "That is better than a novel. Now +let us go to La Grenouillere." + +They reached that part of the island which is set out as a park and +shaded with great trees. Couples were strolling beneath the lofty +foliage along the Seine, where the boats were gliding by. + +The boats were filled with young people, working-girls and their +sweethearts, the latter in their shirt-sleeves, with coats on their +arms, tall hats tipped back, and a jaded look. There were tradesmen +with their families, the women dressed in their best and the +children flocking like little chicks about their parents. A distant, +continuous sound of voices, a heavy, scolding clamor announced the +proximity of the establishment so dear to the boatmen. + +Suddenly they saw it. It was a huge boat, roofed over, moored to the +bank. On board were many men and women drinking at tables, or else +standing up, shouting, singing, bandying words, dancing, capering, +to the sound of a piano which was groaning--out of tune and rattling +as an old kettle. + +Two tall, russet-haired, half-tipsy girls, with red lips, were +talking coarsely. Others were dancing madly with young fellows half +clad, dressed like jockeys, in linen trousers and colored caps. The +odors of a crowd and of rice-powder were noticeable. + +The drinkers around the tables were swallowing white, red, yellow, +and green liquids, and vociferating at the top of their lungs, +feeling as it were, the necessity of making a noise, a brutal need +of having their ears and brains filled with uproar. Now and then a +swimmer, standing on the roof, dived into the water, splashing the +nearest guests, who yelled like savages. + +On the stream passed the flotillas of light craft, long, slender +wherries, swiftly rowed by bare-armed oarsmen, whose muscles played +beneath their bronzed skin. The women in the boats, in blue or red +flannel skirts, with umbrellas, red or blue, opened over their heads +and gleaming under the burning sun, leaned back in their chairs at +the stern of the boats, and seemed almost to float upon the water, +in motionless and slumberous pose. + +The heavier boats proceeded slowly, crowded with people. A +collegian, wanting to show off, rowed like a windmill against all +the other boats, bringing the curses of their oarsmen down upon his +head, and disappearing in dismay after almost drowning two swimmers, +followed by the shouts of the crowd thronging in the great floating +cafe. + +Yvette, radiantly happy, taking Servigny's arm, went into the midst +of this noisy mob. She seemed to enjoy the crowding, and stared at +the girls with a calm and gracious glance. + +"Look at that one, Muscade," she said. "What pretty hair she has! +They seem to be having such fun!" + +As the pianist, a boatman dressed in red with a huge straw hat, +began a waltz, Yvette grasped her companion and they danced so long +and madly that everybody looked at them. The guests, standing on the +tables, kept time with their feet; others threw glasses, and the +musician, seeming to go mad, struck the ivory keys with great bangs; +swaying his whole body and swinging his head covered with that +immense hat. Suddenly he stopped and, slipping to the deck, lay +flat, beneath his head-gear, as if dead with fatigue. A loud laugh +arose and everybody applauded. + +Four friends rushed forward, as they do in cases of accident, and +lifting up their comrade, they carried him by his four limbs, after +carefully placing his great hat on his stomach. A joker following +them intoned the "De Profundis," and a procession formed and +threaded the paths of the island, guests and strollers and everyone +they met falling into line. + +Yvette darted forward, delighted, laughing with her whole heart, +chatting with everybody, stirred by the movement and the noise. The +young men gazed at her, crowded against her, seeming to devour her +with their glances; and Servigny began to fear lest the adventure +should terminate badly. + +The procession still kept on its way; hastening its step; for the +four bearers had taken a quick pace, followed by the yelling crowd. +But suddenly, they turned toward the shore, stopped short as they +reached the bank, swung their comrade for a moment, and then, all +four acting together, flung him into the river. + +A great shout of joy rang out from all mouths, while the poor +pianist, bewildered, paddled, swore, coughed, and spluttered, and +though sticking in the mud managed to get to the shore. His hat +which floated down the stream was picked up by a boat. Yvette danced +with joy, clapping and repeating: "Oh! Muscade, what fun! what fun!" + +Servigny looked on, having become serious, a little disturbed, a +little chilled to see her so much at her ease in this common place. +A sort of instinct revolted in him, that instinct of the proper, +which a well-born man always preserves even when he casts himself +loose, that instinct which avoids too common familiarities and too +degrading contacts. Astonished, he muttered to himself: + +"Egad! Then YOU are at home here, are you?" And he wanted to speak +familiarly to her, as a man does to certain women the first time he +meets them. He no longer distinguished her from the russet-haired, +hoarse-voiced creatures who brushed against them. The language of +the crowd was not at all choice, but nobody seemed shocked or +surprised. Yvette did not even appear to notice it. + +"Muscade, I want to go in bathing," she said. "We'll go into the +river together." + +"At your service," said he. + +They went to the bath-office to get bathing-suits. She was ready the +first, and stood on the bank waiting for him, smiling on everyone +who looked at her. Then side by side they went into the luke-warm +water. + +She swam with pleasure, with intoxication, caressed by the wave, +throbbing with a sensual delight, raising herself at each stroke as +if she were going to spring from the water. He followed her with +difficulty, breathless, and vexed to feel himself mediocre at the +sport. + +But she slackened her pace, and then, turning over suddenly, she +floated, with her arms folded and her eyes wide open to the blue +sky. He observed, thus stretched out on the surface of the river, +the undulating lines of her form, her firm neck and shoulders, her +slightly submerged hips, and bare ankles, gleaming in the water, and +the tiny foot that emerged. + +He saw her thus exhibiting herself, as if she were doing it on +purpose, to lure him on, or again to make sport of him. And he began +to long for her with a passionate ardor and an exasperating +impatience. Suddenly she turned, looked at him, and burst into +laughter. + +"You have a fine head," she said. + +He was annoyed at this bantering, possessed with the anger of a +baffled lover. Then yielding brusquely to a half felt desire for +retaliation, a desire to avenge himself, to wound her, he said: + +"Well, does this sort of life suit you?" + +She asked with an artless air: "What do you mean?" + +"Oh, come, don't make game of me. You know well enough what I mean!" + +"No, I don't, on my word of honor." + +"Oh, let us stop this comedy! Will you or will you not?" + +"I do not understand you." + +"You are not as stupid as all that; besides I told you last night." + +"Told me what? I have forgotten!" + +"That I love you." + +"You?" + +"Yes." + +"What nonsense!" + +"I swear it." + +"Then prove it." + +"That is all I ask." + +"What is?" + +"To prove it." + +"Well, do so." + +"But you did not say so last night." + +"You did not ask anything." + +"What absurdity!" + +"And besides it is not to me to whom you should make your +proposition." + +"To whom, then?" + +"Why, to mamma, of course." + +He burst into laughter. "To your mother. No, that is too much!" + +She had suddenly become very grave, and looking him straight in the +eyes, said: + +"Listen, Muscade, if you really love me enough to marry me, speak to +mamma first, and I will answer you afterward." + +He thought she was still making sport of him, and angrily replied: +"Mam'zelle, you must be taking me for somebody else." + +She kept looking at him with her soft, clear eyes. She hesitated and +then said: + +"I don't understand you at all." + +Then he answered quickly with somewhat of ill nature in his voice: + +"Come now, Yvette, let us cease this absurd comedy, which has +already lasted too long. You are playing the part of a simple little +girl, and the role does not fit you at all, believe me. You know +perfectly well that there can be no question of marriage between us, +but merely of love. I have told you that I love you. It is the +truth. I repeat, I love you. Don't pretend any longer not to +understand me, and don't treat me as if I were a fool." + +They were face to face, treading water, merely moving their hands a +little, to steady themselves. She was still for a moment, as if she +could not make out the meaning of his words, then she suddenly +blushed up to the roots of her hair. Her whole face grew purple from +her neck to her ears, which became almost violet, and without +answering a word she fled toward the shore, swimming with all her +strength with hasty strokes. He could not keep up with her and +panted with fatigue as he followed. He saw her leave the water, pick +up her cloak, and go to her dressing-room without looking back. + +It took him a long time to dress, very much perplexed as to what he +ought to do, puzzled over what he should say to her, and wondering +whether he ought to excuse himself or persevere. When he was ready, +she had gone away all alone. He went back slowly, anxious and +disturbed. + +The Marquise was strolling, on Saval's arm, in the circular path +around the lawn. As she observed Servigny, she said, with that +careless air which she had maintained since the night before. + +"I told you not to go out in such hot weather. And now Yvette has +come back almost with a sun stroke. She has gone to lie down. She +was as red as a poppy, the poor child, and she has a frightful +headache. You must have been walking in the full sunlight, or you +must have done something foolish. You are as unreasonable as she." + +The young girl did not come down to dinner. When they wanted to send +her up something to eat she called through the door that she was not +hungry, for she had shut herself in, and she begged that they would +leave her undisturbed. The two young men left by the ten o'clock +train, promising to return the following Thursday, and the Marquise +seated herself at the open window to dream, hearing in the distance +the orchestra of the boatmen's ball, with its sprightly music, in +the deep and solemn silence of the night. + +Swayed by love as a person is moved by a fondness for horses or +boating, she was subject to sudden tendernesses which crept over her +like a disease. These passions took possession of her suddenly, +penetrated her entire being, maddened her, enervated or overwhelmed +her, in measure as they were of an exalted, violent, dramatic, or +sentimental character. + +She was one of those women who are created to love and to be loved. +Starting from a very low station in life, she had risen in her +adventurous career, acting instinctively, with inborn cleverness, +accepting money and kisses, naturally, without distinguishing +between them, employing her extraordinary ability in an unthinking +and simple fashion. From all her experiences she had never known +either a genuine tenderness or a great repulsion. + +She had had various friends, for she had to live, as in traveling a +person eats at many tables. But occasionally her heart took fire, +and she really fell in love, which state lasted for some weeks or +months, according to conditions. These were the delicious moments of +her life, for she loved with all her soul. She cast herself upon +love as a person throws himself into the river to drown himself, and +let herself be carried away, ready to die, if need be, intoxicated, +maddened, infinitely happy. She imagined each time that she never +had experienced anything like such an attachment, and she would have +been greatly astonished if some one had told her of how many men she +had dreamed whole nights through, looking at the stars. + +Saval had captivated her, body and soul. She dreamed of him, lulled +by his face and his memory, in the calm exaltation of consummated +love, of present and certain happiness. + +A sound behind her made her turn around. Yvette had just entered, +still in her daytime dress, but pale, with eyes glittering, as +sometimes is the case after some great fatigue. She leaned on the +sill of the open window, facing her mother. + +"I want to speak to you," she said. + +The Marquise looked at her in astonishment. She loved her like an +egotistical mother, proud of her beauty, as a person is proud of a +fortune, too pretty still herself to become jealous, too indifferent +to plan the schemes with which they charged her, too clever, +nevertheless, not to have full consciousness of her daughter's +value. + +"I am listening, my child," she said; "what is it?" + +Yvette gave her a piercing look, as if to read the depths of her +soul and to seize all the sensations which her words might awake. + +"It is this. Something strange has just happened." + +"What can it be?" + +"Monsieur de Servigny has told me that he loves me." + +The Marquise, disturbed, waited a moment, and, as Yvette said +nothing more, she asked: + +"How did he tell you that? Explain yourself!" + +Then the young girl, sitting at her mother's feet, in a coaxing +attitude common with her, and clasping her hands, added: + +"He asked me to marry him." + +Madame Obardi made a sudden gesture of stupefaction and cried: + +"Servigny! Why! you are crazy!" + +Yvette had not taken her eyes off her mother's face, watching her +thoughts and her surprise. She asked with a serious voice: + +"Why am I crazy? Why should not Monsieur de Servigny marry me?" + +The Marquise, embarrassed, stammered: + +"You are mistaken, it is not possible. You either did not hear or +did not understand. Monsieur de Servigny is too rich for you, and +too much of a Parisian to marry." Yvette rose softly. She added: +"But if he loves me as he says he does, mamma?" + +Her mother replied, with some impatience: "I thought you big enough +and wise enough not to have such ideas. Servigny is a man-about-town +and an egotist. He will never marry anyone but a woman of his set +and his fortune. If he asked you in marriage, it is only that he +wants--" + +The Marquise, incapable of expressing her meaning, was silent for a +moment, then continued: "Come now, leave me alone and go to bed." + +And the young girl, as if she had learned what she sought to find +out, answered in a docile voice: "Yes, mamma!" + +She kissed her mother on the forehead and withdrew with a calm step. +As she reached the door, the Marquise called out: "And your +sunstroke?" she said. + +"I did not have one at all. It was that which caused everything." + +The Marquise added: "We will not speak of it again. Only don't stay +alone with him for some time from now, and be very sure that he will +never marry you, do you understand, and that he merely means to-- +compromise you." + +She could not find better words to express her thought. Yvette went +to her room. Madame Obardi began to dream. Living for years in an +opulent and loving repose, she had carefully put aside all +reflections which might annoy or sadden her. Never had she been +willing to ask herself the question.--What would become of Yvette? +It would be soon enough to think about the difficulties when they +arrived. She well knew, from her experience, that her daughter could +not marry a man who was rich and of good society, excepting by a +totally improbable chance, by one of those surprises of love which +place adventuresses on thrones. + +She had not considered it, furthermore, being too much occupied with +herself to make any plans which did not directly concern herself. + +Yvette would do as her mother, undoubtedly. She would lead a gay +life. Why not? But the Marquise had never dared ask when, or how. +That would all come about in time. + +And now her daughter, all of a sudden, without warning, had asked +one of those questions which could not be answered, forcing her to +take an attitude in an affair, so delicate, so dangerous in every +respect, and so disturbing to the conscience which a woman is +expected to show in matters concerning her daughter. + +Sometimes nodding but never asleep, she had too much natural +astuteness to be deceived a minute about Servigny's intentions, for +she knew men by experience, and especially men of that set. So at +the first words uttered by Yvette, she had cried almost in spite of +herself: "Servigny, marry you? You are crazy!" + +How had he come to employ that old method, he, that sharp man of the +world? What would he do now? And she, the young girl, how should she +warn her more clearly and even forbid her, for she might make great +mistakes. Would anyone have believed that this big girl had remained +so artless, so ill informed, so guileless? And the Marquise, greatly +perplexed and already wearied with her reflections, endeavored to +make up her mind what to do without finding a solution of the +problem, for the situation seemed to her very embarrassing. Worn out +with this worry, she thought: + +"I will watch them more clearly, I will act according to +circumstances. If necessary, I will speak to Servigny, who is sharp +and will take a hint." + +She did not think out what she should say to him, nor what he would +answer, nor what sort of an understanding could be established +between them, but happy at being relieved of this care without +having had to make a decision, she resumed her dreams of the +handsome Saval, and turning toward that misty light which hovers +over Paris, she threw kisses with both hands toward the great city, +rapid kisses which she tossed into the darkness, one after the +other, without counting; and, very low, as if she were talking to +Saval still, she murmured: + +"I love you, I love you!" + + + + +CHAPTER III. + +ENLIGHTENMENT + + +Yvette, also, could not sleep. Like her mother, she leaned upon the +sill of the open window, and tears, her first bitter tears, filled +her eyes. Up to this time she had lived, had grown up, in the +heedless and serene confidence of happy youth. Why should she have +dreamed, reflected, puzzled? Why should she not have been a young +girl, like all other young girls? Why should a doubt, a fear, or +painful suspicion have come to her? + +She seemed posted on all topics because she had a way of talking on +all subjects, because she had taken the tone, demeanor, and words of +the people who lived around her. But she really knew no more than a +little girl raised in a convent; her audacities of speech came from +her memory, from that unconscious faculty of imitation and +assimilation which women possess, and not from a mind instructed and +emboldened. + +She spoke of love as the son of a painter or a musician would, at +the age of ten or twelve years, speak of painting or music. She knew +or rather suspected very well what sort of mystery this word +concealed;--too many jokes had been whispered before her, for her +innocence not to be a trifle enlightened,--but how could she have +drawn the conclusion from all this, that all families did not +resemble hers? + +They kissed her mother's hand with the semblance of respect; all +their friends had titles; they all were rich or seemed to be so; +they all spoke familiarly of the princes of the royal line. Two sons +of kings had even come often, in the evening, to the Marquise's +house. How should she have known? + +And, then, she was naturally artless. She did not estimate or sum up +people as her mother, did. She lived tranquilly, too joyous in her +life to worry herself about what might appear suspicious to +creatures more calm, thoughtful, reserved, less cordial, and sunny. + +But now, all at once, Servigny, by a few words, the brutality of +which she felt without understanding them, awakened in her a sudden +disquietude, unreasoning at first, but which grew into a tormenting +apprehension. She had fled home, had escaped like a wounded animal, +wounded in fact most deeply by those words which she ceaselessly +repeated to get all their sense and bearing: "You know very well +that there can be no question of marriage between us--but only of +love." + +What did he mean? And why this insult? Was she then in ignorance of +something, some secret, some shame? She was the only one ignorant of +it, no doubt. But what could she do? She was frightened, startled, +as a person is when he discovers some hidden infamy, some treason of +a beloved friend, one of those heart-disasters which crush. + +She dreamed, reflected, puzzled, wept, consumed by fears and +suspicions. Then her joyous young soul reassuring itself, she began +to plan an adventure, to imagine an abnormal and dramatic situation, +founded on the recollections of all the poetical romances she had +read. She recalled all the moving catastrophes, or sad and touching +stories; she jumbled them together, and concocted a story of her own +with which she interpreted the half-understood mystery which +enveloped her life. + +She was no longer cast down. She dreamed, she lifted veils, she +imagined unlikely complications, a thousand singular, terrible +things, seductive, nevertheless, by their very strangeness. Could +she be, by chance, the natural daughter of a prince? Had her poor +mother, betrayed and deserted, made Marquise by some king, perhaps +King Victor Emmanuel, been obliged to take flight before the anger +of the family? Was she not rather a child abandoned by its +relations, who were noble and illustrious, the fruit of a +clandestine love, taken in by the Marquise, who had adopted and +brought her up? + +Still other suppositions passed through her mind. She accepted or +rejected them according to the dictates of her fancy. She was moved +to pity over her own case, happy at the bottom of her heart, and sad +also, taking a sort of satisfaction in becoming a sort of a heroine +of a book who must: assume a noble attitude, worthy of herself. + +She laid out the part she must play, according to events at which +she guessed. She vaguely outlined this role, like one of Scribe's or +of George Sand's. It should be endued with devotion, self- +abnegation, greatness of soul, tenderness; and fine words. Her +pliant nature almost rejoiced in this new attitude. She pondered +almost till evening what she should do, wondering how she should +manage to wrest the truth from the Marquise. + +And when night came, favorable to tragic situations, she had thought +out a simple and subtile trick to obtain what she wanted: it was, +brusquely, to say that Servigny had asked for her hand in marriage. + +At this news, Madame Obardi, taken by surprise, would certainly let +a word escape her lips, a cry which would throw light into the mind +of her daughter. And Yvette had accomplished her plan. + +She expected an explosion of astonishment, an expansion of love, a +confidence full of gestures and tears. But, instead of this, her +mother, without appearing stupefied or grieved, had only seemed +bored; and from the constrained, discontented, and worried tone in +which she had replied, the young girl, in whom there suddenly awaked +all the astuteness, keenness, and sharpness of a woman, +understanding that she must not insist, that the mystery was of +another nature, that it would be painful to her to learn it, and +that she must puzzle it out all alone, had gone back to her room, +her heart oppressed, her soul in distress, possessed now with the +apprehensions of a real misfortune, without knowing exactly either +whence or why this emotion came to her. So she wept, leaning at the +window. + +She wept long, not dreaming of anything now, not seeking to discover +anything more, and little by little, weariness overcoming her, she +closed her eyes. She dozed for a few minutes, with that deep sleep +of people who are tired out and have not the energy to undress and +go to bed, that heavy sleep, broken by dreams, when the head nods +upon the breast. + +She did not go to bed until the first break of day, when the cold of +the morning, chilling her, compelled her to leave the window. + +The next day and the day after, she maintained a reserved and +melancholy attitude. Her thoughts were busy; she was learning to spy +out, to guess at conclusions, to reason. A light, still vague, +seemed to illumine men and things around her in a new manner; she +began to entertain suspicions against all, against everything that +she had believed, against her mother. She imagined all sorts of +things during these two days. She considered all the possibilities, +taking the most extreme resolutions with the suddenness of her +changeable and unrestrained nature. Wednesday she hit upon a plan, +an entire schedule of conduct and a system of spying. She rose +Thursday morning with the resolve to be very sharp and armed against +everybody. + +She determined even to take for her motto these two words: "Myself +alone," and she pondered for more than an hour how she should +arrange them to produce a good effect engraved about her crest, on +her writing paper. + +Saval and Servigny arrived at ten o'clock. The young girl gave her +hand with reserve, without embarrassment, and in a tone, familiar +though grave, she said: + +"Good morning, Muscade, are you well?" "Good morning, Mam'zelle, +fairly, thanks, and you?" He was watching her. "What comedy will she +play me," he said to himself. + +The Marquise having taken Saval's arm, he took Yvette's, and they +began to stroll about the lawn, appearing and disappearing every +minute, behind the clumps of trees. + +Yvette walked with a thoughtful air, looking at the gravel of the +pathway, appearing hardly to hear what her companion said and +scarcely answering him. + +Suddenly she asked: "Are you truly my friend, Muscade?" + +"Why, of course, Mam'zelle." + +"But truly, truly, now?" + +"Absolutely your friend, Mam'zelle, body and soul." + +"Even enough of a friend not to lie to me once, just once?" + +"Even twice, if necessary." + +"Even enough to tell me the absolute, exact truth?" + +"Yes, Mam'zelle." + +"Well, what do you think, way down in your heart, of the Prince of +Kravalow?" + +"Ah, the devil!" + +"You see that you are already preparing to lie." + +"Not at all, but I am seeking the words, the proper words. Great +Heavens, Prince Kravalow is a Russian, who speaks Russian, who was +born in Russia, who has perhaps had a passport to come to France, +and about whom there is nothing false but his name and title." + +She looked him in the eyes: "You mean that he is--?" + +"An adventurer, Mam'zelle." + +"Thank you, and Chevalier Valreali is no better?" "You have hit it." + +"And Monsieur de Belvigne?" + +"With him it is a different thing. He is of provincial society, +honorable up to a certain point, but only a little scorched from +having lived too rapidly." + +"And you?" + +"I am what they call a butterfly, a man of good family, who had +intelligence and who has squandered it in making phrases, who had +good health and who has injured it by dissipation, who had some +worth perhaps and who has scattered it by doing nothing. There is +left to me a certain knowledge of life, a complete absence of +prejudice, a large contempt for mankind, including women, a very +deep sentiment of the uselessness of my acts and a vast tolerance +for the mob." + +"Nevertheless, at times, I can be frank, and I am even capable of +affection, as you could see, if you would. With these defects and +qualities I place myself at your orders, Mam'zelle, morally and +physically, to do what you please with me." + +She did not laugh; she listened, weighing his words and his +intentions; then she resumed: + +"What do you think of the Countess de Lammy?" + +He replied, vivaciously: "You will permit me not to give my opinion +about the women." + +"About none of them?" + +"About none of them." "Then you must have a bad opinion of them all. +Come, think; won't you make a single exception?" + +He sneered with that insolent air which he generally wore; and with +that brutal audacity which he used as a weapon, he said: "Present +company is always excepted." + +She blushed a little, but calmly asked: "Well, what do you think of +me?" + +"You want me to tell. Well, so be it. I think you are a young person +of good sense, and practicalness, or if you prefer, of good +practical sense, who knows very well how to arrange her pastime, to +amuse people, to hide her views, to lay her snares, and who, without +hurrying, awaits events." + +"Is that all?" she asked. + +"That's all." + +Then she said with a serious earnestness: "I shall make you change +that opinion, Muscade." + +Then she joined her mother, who was proceeding with short steps, her +head down, with that manner assumed in talking very low, while +walking, of very intimate and very sweet things. As she advanced she +drew shapes in the sand, letters perhaps, with the point of her +sunshade, and she spoke, without looking at Saval, long, softly, +leaning on his arm, pressed against him. + +Yvette suddenly fixed her eyes upon her, and a suspicion, rather a +feeling than a doubt, passed through her mind as a shadow of a cloud +driven by the wind passes over the ground. + +The bell rang for breakfast. It was silent and almost gloomy. There +was a storm in the air. Great solid clouds rested upon the horizon, +mute and heavy, but charged with a tempest. As soon as they had +taken their coffee on the terrace, the Marquise asked: + +"Well, darling, are you going to take a walk today with your friend +Servigny? It is a good time to enjoy the coolness under the trees." + +Yvette gave her a quick glance. + +"No, mamma, I am not going out to-day." + +The Marquise appeared annoyed, and insisted. "Oh, go and take a +stroll, my child, it is excellent for you." + +Then Yvette distinctly said: "No, mamma, I shall stay in the house +to-day, and you know very well why, because I told you the other +evening." + +Madame Obardi gave it no further thought, preoccupied with the +thought of remaining alone with Saval. She blushed and was annoyed, +disturbed on her own account, not knowing how she could find a free +hour or two. She stammered: + +"It is true. I was not thinking of it. I don't know where my head +is." + +And Yvette taking up some embroidery, which she called "the public +safety," and at which she worked five or six times a year, on dull +days, seated herself on a low chair near her mother, while the two +young men, astride folding-chairs, smoked their cigars. + +The hours passed in a languid conversation. The Marquise fidgety, +cast longing glances at Saval, seeking some pretext, some means, of +getting rid of her daughter. She finally realized that she would not +succeed, and not knowing what ruse to employ, she said to Servigny: +"You know, my dear Duke, that I am going to keep you both this +evening. To-morrow we shall breakfast at the Fournaise restaurant, +at Chaton." + +He understood, smiled, and bowed: "I am at your orders, Marquise." + +The day wore on slowly and painfully under the threatenings of the +storm. The hour for dinner gradually approached. The heavy sky was +filled with slow and heavy clouds. There was not a breath of air +stirring. The evening meal was silent, too. An oppression, an +embarrassment, a sort of vague fear, seemed to make the two men and +the two women mute. + +When the covers were removed, they sat long upon the terrace; only +speaking at long intervals. Night fell, a sultry night. Suddenly the +horizon was torn by an immense flash of lightning, which illumined +with a dazzling and wan light the four faces shrouded in darkness. +Then a far-off sound, heavy and feeble, like the rumbling of a +carriage upon a bridge, passed over the earth; and it seemed that +the heat of the atmosphere increased, that the air suddenly became +more oppressive, and the silence of the evening deeper. + +Yvette rose. "I am going to bed," she said, "the storm makes me +ill." + +And she offered her brow to the Marquise, gave her hand to the two +young men, and withdrew. + +As her room was just above the terrace, the leaves of a great +chestnut-tree growing before the door soon gleamed with a green hue, +and Servigny kept his eyes fixed on this pale light in the foliage, +in which at times he thought he saw a shadow pass. But suddenly the +light went out. Madame Obardi gave a great sigh. + +"My daughter has gone to bed," she said. + +Servigny rose, saying: "I am going to do as much, Marquise, if you +will permit me." He kissed the hand she held out to him and +disappeared in turn. + +She was left alone with Saval, in the night. In a moment she was +clasped in his arms. Then, although he tried to prevent her, she +kneeled before him murmuring: "I want to see you by the lightning +flashes." + +But Yvette, her candle snuffed out, had returned to her balcony, +barefoot, gliding like a shadow, and she listened, consumed by an +unhappy and confused suspicion. She could not see, as she was above +them, on the roof of the terrace. + +She heard nothing but a murmur of voices, and her heart beat so fast +that she could actually hear its throbbing. A window closed on the +floor above her. Servigny, then, must have just gone up to his room. +Her mother was alone with the other man. + +A second flash of lightning, clearing the sky; lighted up for a +second all the landscape she knew so well, with a startling and +sinister gleam, and she saw the great river, with the color of +melted lead, as a river appears in dreams in fantastic scenes. + +Just then a voice below her uttered the words: "I love you!" And she +heard nothing more. A strange shudder passed over her body, and her +soul shivered in frightful distress. A heavy, infinite silence, +which seemed eternal, hung over the world. She could no longer +breathe, her breast oppressed by something unknown and horrible. +Another flash of lightning illumined space, lighting up the horizon +for an instant, then another almost immediately came, followed by +still others. And the voice, which she had already heard, repeated +more loudly: "Oh! how I love you! how I love you!" And Yvette +recognized the voice; it was her mother's. + +A large drop of warm rain fell upon her brow, and a slight and +almost imperceptible motion ran through the leaves, the quivering of +the rain which was now beginning. Then a noise came from afar, a +confused sound, like that of the wind in the branches: it was the +deluge descending in sheets on earth and river and trees. In a few +minutes the water poured about her, covering her, drenching her like +a shower-bath. She did not move, thinking only of what was happening +on the terrace. + +She heard them get up and go to their rooms. Doors were closed +within the house; and the young girl, yielding to an irresistible +desire to learn what was going on, a desire which maddened and +tortured her, glided downstairs, softly opened the outer door, and, +crossing the lawn under the furious downpour, ran and hid in a clump +of trees, to look at the windows. + +Only one window was lighted, her mother's. And suddenly two shadows +appeared in the luminous square, two shadows, side by side. Then +distracted, without reflection, without knowing what she was doing, +she screamed with all her might, in a shrill voice: "Mamma!" as a +person would cry out to warn people in danger of death. + +Her desperate cry was lost in the noise of the rain, but the couple +separated, disturbed. And one of the shadows disappeared, while the +other tried to discover something, peering through the darkness of +the garden. + +Fearing to be surprised, or to meet her mother at that moment, +Yvette rushed back to the house, ran upstairs, dripping wet, and +shut herself in her room, resolved to open her door to no one. + +Without taking, off her streaming dress, which clung to her form, +she fell on her knees, with clasped hands, in her distress imploring +some superhuman protection, the mysterious aid of Heaven, the +unknown support which a person seeks in hours of tears and despair. + +The great lightning flashes threw for an instant their livid +reflections into her room, and she saw herself in the mirror of her +wardrobe, with her wet and disheveled hair, looking so strange that +she did not recognize herself. She remained there so long that the +storm abated without her perceiving it. The rain ceased, a light +filled the sky, still obscured with clouds, and a mild, balmy, +delicious freshness, a freshness of grass and wet leaves, came in +through the open window. + +Yvette rose, took off her wet, cold garments, without thinking what +she was doing, and went to bed. She stared with fixed eyes at the +dawning day. Then she wept again, and then she began to think. + +Her mother! A lover! What a shame! She had read so many books in +which women, even mothers, had overstepped the bounds of propriety, +to regain their honor at the pages of the climax, that she was not +astonished beyond measure at finding herself enveloped in a drama +similar to all those of her reading. The violence of her first +grief, the cruel shock of surprise, had already worn off a little, +in the confused remembrance of analogous situations. Her mind had +rambled among such tragic adventures, painted by the novel-writers, +that the horrible discovery seemed, little by little, like the +natural continuation of some serial story, begun the evening before. + +She said to herself: "I will save my mother." And almost reassured +by this heroic resolution, she felt herself strengthened, ready at +once for the devotion and the struggle. She reflected on the means +which must be employed. A single one seemed good, which was quite in +keeping with her romantic nature. And she rehearsed the interview +which she should have with the Marquise, as an actor rehearses the +scene which he is going to play. + +The sun had risen. The servants were stirring about the house. The +chambermaid came with the chocolate. Yvette put the tray on the +table and said: + +"You will say to my mother that I am not well, that I am going to +stay in bed until those gentlemen leave, that I could not sleep last +night, and that I do not want to be disturbed because I am going to +try to rest." + +The servant, surprised, looked at the wet dress, which had fallen +like a rag on the carpet. + +"So Mademoiselle has been out?" she said. + +"Yes, I went out for a walk in the rain to refresh myself." + +The maid picked up the skirts, stockings, and wet shoes; then she +went away carrying on her arm, with fastidious precautions, these +garments, soaked as the clothes of a drowned person. And Yvette +waited, well knowing that her mother would come to her. + +The Marquise entered, having jumped from her bed at the first words +of the chambermaid, for a suspicion had possessed her, heart since +that cry: "Mamma!" heard in the dark. + +"What is the matter?" she said. + +Yvette looked at her and stammered: "I--I--" Then overpowered by a +sudden and terrible emotion, she began to choke. + +The Marquise, astonished, again asked: "What in the world is the +matter with you?" + +Then, forgetting all her plans and prepared phrases, the young girl +hid her face in both hands and stammered: + +"Oh! mamma! Oh! mamma!" + +Madame Obardi stood by the bed, too much affected thoroughly to +understand, but guessing almost everything, with that subtile +instinct whence she derived her strength. As Yvette could not speak, +choked with tears, her mother, worn out finally and feeling some +fearful explanation coming, brusquely asked: + +"Come, will you tell me what the matter is?" + +Yvette could hardly utter the words: "Oh! last night--I saw--your +window." + +The Marquise, very pale; said: "Well? what of it?" + +Her daughter repeated, still sobbing: "Oh! mamma! Oh! mamma!" + +Madame Obardi, whose fear and embarrassment turned to anger, +shrugged her shoulders and turned to go. "I really believe that you +are crazy. When this ends, you will let me know." + +But the young girl, suddenly took her hands from her face, which was +streaming with tears. + +"No, listen, I must speak to you, listen. You must promise me--we +must both go, away, very far off, into the country, and we must live +like the country people; and no one must know what has become of us. +Say you will, mamma; I beg you, I implore you; will you?" + +The Marquise, confused, stood in the middle of the room. She had in +her veins the irascible blood of the common people. Then a sense of +shame, a mother's modesty, mingled with a vague sentiment of fear +and the exasperation of a passionate woman whose love is threatened, +and she shuddered, ready to ask for pardon, or to yield to some +violence. + +"I don't understand you," she said. + +Yvette replied: + +"I saw you, mamma, last night. You cannot--if you knew--we will both +go away. I will love you so much that you will forget--" + +Madame Obardi said in a trembling voice: "Listen, my, daughter, +there are some things which you do not yet understand. Well, don't +forget--don't forget-that I forbid you ever to speak to me about +those things." + +But the young girl, brusquely taking the role of savior which she +had imposed upon herself, rejoined: + +"No, mamma, I am no longer a child, and I have the right to know. I +know that we receive persons of bad repute, adventurers, and I know +that, on that account, people do not respect us. I know more. Well, +it must not be, any longer, do you hear? I do not wish it. We will +go away: you will sell your jewels; we will work, if need be, and we +will live as honest women, somewhere very far away. And if I can +marry, so much the better." + +She answered: "You are crazy. You will do me the favor to rise and +come down to breakfast with all the rest." + +"No, mamma. There is some one whom I shall never see again, you +understand me. I want him to leave, or I shall leave. You shall +choose between him and me." + +She was sitting up in bed, and she raised her voice, speaking as +they do on the stage, playing, finally, the drama which she had +dreamed, almost forgetting her grief in the effort to fulfill her +mission. + +The Marquise, stupefied, again repeated: "You are crazy--" not +finding anything else to say. + +Yvette replied with a theatrical energy: "No, mamma, that man shall +leave the house, or I shall go myself, for I will not weaken." + +"And where will you go? What will you do?" + +"I do not know, it matters little--I want you to be an honest +woman." + +These words which recurred, aroused in the Marquise a perfect fury, +and she cried: + +"Be silent. I do not permit you to talk to me like that. I am as +good as anybody else, do you understand? I lead a certain sort of +life, it is true, and I am proud of it; the 'honest women' are not +as good as I am." + +Yvette, astonished, looked at her, and stammered: "Oh! mammal" + +But the Marquise, carried away with excitement, continued: + +"Yes, I lead a certain life--what of it? Otherwise you would be a +cook, as I was once, and earn thirty sous a day. You would be +washing dishes, and your mistress would send you to market--do you +understand--and she would turn you out if you loitered, just as you +loiter, now because I am--because I lead this life. Listen. When a +person is only a nursemaid, a poor girl, with fifty francs saved up, +she must know how to manage, if she does not want to starve to +death; and there are not two ways for us, there are not two ways, do +you understand, when we are servants. We cannot make our fortune +with official positions, nor with stockjobbing tricks. We have only +one way--only one way." + +She struck her breast as a penitent at the confessional, and flushed +and excited, coming toward the bed, she continued: "So much the +worse. A pretty girl must live or suffer--she has no choice!" Then +returning to her former idea: "Much they deny themselves, your +'honest women.' They are worse, because nothing compels them. They +have money to live on and amuse themselves, and they choose vicious +lives of their own accord. They are the bad ones in reality." + +She was standing near the bed of the distracted Yvette, who wanted +to cry out "Help," to escape. Yvette wept aloud, like children who +are whipped. The Marquise was silent and looked at her daughter, +and, seeing her overwhelmed with despair, felt, herself, the pangs +of grief, remorse, tenderness, and pity, and throwing herself upon +the bed with open arms, she also began to sob and stammered: + +"My poor little girl, my poor little girl, if you knew, how you were +hurting me." And they wept together, a long while. + +Then the Marquise, in whom grief could not long endure, softly rose, +and gently said: + +"Come, darling, it is unavoidable; what would you have? Nothing can +be changed now. We must take life as it comes to us." + +Yvette continued to weep. The blow had been too harsh and too +unexpected to permit her to reflect and to recover at once. + +Her mother resumed: "Now, get up and come down to breakfast, so that +no one will notice anything." + +The young girl shook her head as if to say, "No," without being able +to speak. Then she said, with a slow voice full of sobs: + +"No, mamma, you know what I said, I won't alter my determination. I +shall not leave my room till they have gone. I never want to see one +of those people again, never, never. If they come back, you will see +no more of me." + +The Marquise had dried her eyes, and wearied with emotion, she +murmured: + +"Come, reflect, be reasonable." + +Then, after a moment's silence: + +"Yes, you had better rest this morning. I will come up to see you +this afternoon." And having kissed her daughter on the forehead, she +went to dress herself, already calmed. + +Yvette, as soon as her mother had disappeared, rose, and ran to bolt +the door, to be alone, all alone; then she began to think. The +chambermaid knocked about eleven o'clock, and asked through the +door: "Madame the Marquise wants to know if Mademoiselle wishes +anything, and what she will take for her breakfast." + +Yvette answered: "I am not hungry, I only ask not to be disturbed." + +And she remained in bed, just as if she had been ill. Toward three +o'clock, some one knocked again. She asked: + +"Who is there?" + +It was her mother's voice which replied: "It is I, darling, I have +come to see how you are." + +She hesitated what she should do. She opened the door, and then went +back to bed. The Marquise approached, and, speaking in low tones, as +people do to a convalescent, said: + +"Well, are you better? Won't you eat an egg?" + +"No, thanks, nothing at all." + +Madame Obardi sat down near the bed. They remained without saying +anything, then, finally, as her daughter stayed quiet, with her +hands inert upon the bedclothes, she asked: + +"Don't you intend to get up?" + +Yvette answered: "Yes, pretty soon." + +Then in a grave and slow tone she said: "I have thought a great +deal, mamma, and this--this is my resolution. The past is the past, +let us speak no more of it. But the future shall be different or I +know what is left for me to do. Now, let us say no more about it." + +The Marquise, who thought the explanation finished, felt her +impatience gaining a little. It was too much. This big goose of a +girl ought to have known about things long ago. But she did not say +anything in reply, only repeating: + +"You are going to get up?" + +"Yes, I am ready." + +Then her mother became maid for her, bringing her stockings, her +corset, and her skirts. Then she kissed her. + +"Will you take a walk before dinner?" + +"Yes, mamma." + +And they took a stroll along the water, speaking only of commonplace +things. + + + + +CHAPTER IV. + +FROM EMOTION TO PHILOSOPHY + + +The following day, early in the morning, Yvette went out alone to +the place where Servigny had read her the history of the ants. She +said to herself: + +"I am not going away from this spot without having formed a +resolution." + +Before her, at her feet, the water flowed rapidly, filled with large +bubbles which passed in silent flight with deep whirlings. She +already had summed up the points of the situation and the means of +extricating herself from it. What should she do if her mother would +not accept the conditions which she had imposed, would not renounce +her present way of living, her set of visitors--everything and go +and hide with her in a distant land? + +She might go alone, take flight, but where, and how? What would she +live on? By working? At what? To whom should she apply to find work? +And, then, the dull and humble life of working-women, daughters of +the people, seemed a little disgraceful, unworthy of her. She +thought of becoming a governess, like young girls in novels, and of +becoming loved by the son of the house, and then marrying him. But +to accomplish that she must have been of good birth, so that, when +the exasperated father should approach her with having stolen his +son's love, she might say in a proud voice: + +"My name is Yvette Obardi." + +She could not do this. And then, even that would have been a trite +and threadbare method. + +The convent was not worth much more. Besides, she felt no vocation +for a religious life, having only an intermittent and fleeting +piety. No one would save her by marrying her, being what she was! No +aid was acceptable from a man, no possible issue, no definite +resource. + +And then she wished to do something energetic and really great and +strong, which should serve as an example: so she resolved upon +death. + +She decided upon this step suddenly, but tranquilly, as if it were a +journey, without reflecting, without looking at death, without +understanding that it is the end without recommencement, the +departure without return, the eternal farewell to earth and to this +life. + +She immediately settled on this extreme measure, with the lightness +of young and excited souls, and she thought of the means which she +would employ. But they all seemed to her painful and hazardous, and, +furthermore, required a violence of action which repelled her. + +She quickly abandoned the poniard and revolver, which might wound +only, blind her or disfigure her, and which demanded a practiced and +steady hand. She decided against the rope; it was so common, the +poor man's way of suicide, ridiculous and ugly; and against water +because she knew how to swim So poison remained--but which kind? +Almost all of them cause suffering and incite vomitings. She did not +want either of these things. + +Then she thought of chloroform, having read in a newspaper how a +young woman had managed to asphyxiate herself by this process. And +she felt at once a sort of joy in her resolution, an inner pride, a +sensation of bravery. People should see what she was, and what she +was worth. + +She returned to Bougival and went to a druggist, from whom she asked +a little chloroform for a tooth which was aching. The man, who knew +her, gave her a tiny bottle of the narcotic. + +Then she set out on foot for Croissy, where she procured a second +phial of poison. She obtained a third at Chaton, a fourth at Ruril, +and got home late for breakfast. + +As she was very hungry after this long walk, she ate heartily with +the pleasurable appetite of people who have taken exercise. + +Her mother, happy to see her so hungry, and now feeling tranquil +herself, said to her as they left the table: + +"All our friends are coming to spend Sunday with us. I have invited +the Prince, the Chevalier, and Monsieur de Belvigne." + +Yvette turned a little pale, but did not reply. She went out almost +immediately, reached the railway station, and took a ticket for +Paris. And during all the afternoon, she went from druggist to +druggist, buying from each one a few drops of chloroform. She came +back in the evening with her pockets full of little bottles. + +She began the same system on the following day, and by chance found +a chemist who gave her, at one stroke, a quarter of a liter. She did +not go out on Saturday; it was a lowering and sultry day; she passed +it entirely on the terrace, stretched on a long wicker-chair. + +She thought of almost nothing, very resolute and very calm. She put +on the next morning, a blue costume which was very becoming to her, +wishing to look well. Then looking at herself in the glass, she +suddenly said: + +"To-morrow, I shall be dead." And a peculiar shudder passed over her +body. "Dead! I shall speak no more, think no more, no one will see +me more, and I shall never see anything again." + +And she gazed attentively at her countenance, as if she had never +observed it, examining especially her eyes, discovering a thousand +things in herself, a secret character in her physiognomy which she +had not known before, astonished to see herself, as if she had +opposite her a strange person, a new friend. + +She said to herself: "It is I, in the mirror, there. How queer it is +to look at oneself. But without the mirror we would never know +ourselves. Everybody else would know how we look, and we ourselves +would know nothing." + +She placed the heavy braids of her thick hair over her breast, +following with her glance all her gestures, all her poses, and all +her movements. "How pretty I am!" she thought. "Tomorrow I shall be +dead, there, upon my bed." She looked at her bed, and seemed to see +herself stretched out, white as the sheets. + +Dead! In a week she would be nothing but dust, to dust returned! A +horrible anguish oppressed her heart. The bright sunlight fell in +floods upon the fields, and the soft morning air came in at the +window. + +She sat down thinking of it. Death! It was as if the world was going +to disappear from her; but no, since nothing would be changed in the +world, not even her bedroom. Yes, her room would remain just the +same, with the same bed, the same chairs, the same toilette +articles, but she would be forever gone, and no one would be sorry, +except her mother, perhaps. + +People would say: "How pretty she was! that little Yvette," and +nothing more. And as she looked at her arm leaning on the arm of her +chair, she thought again, ashes to ashes, dust to dust. And again a +great shudder of horror ran over her whole body, and she did not +know how she could disappear without the whole earth being blotted +out, so much it seemed to her that she was a part of everything, of +the fields, of the air, of the sunshine, of life itself. + +There were bursts of laughter in the garden, a great noise of voices +and of calls, the bustling gaiety of country house parties, and she +recognized the sonorous tones of M. de Belvigne, singing: + +"I am underneath thy window, + Oh, deign to show thy face." She rose, without reflecting, and +looked out. They all applauded. They were all five there, with two +gentlemen whom she did not know. + +She brusquely withdrew, annoyed by the thought that these men had +come to amuse themselves at her mother's house, as at a public +place. + +The bell sounded for breakfast. "I will show them how to die," she +said. + +She went downstairs with a firm step, with something of the +resolution of the Christian martyrs going into the circus, where the +lions awaited them. + +She pressed their hands, smiling in an affable but rather haughty +manner. Servigny asked her: + +"Are you less cross to-day, Mam'zelle?" + +She answered in a severe and peculiar tone: "Today, I am going to +commit follies. I am in my Paris mood, look out!" + +Then turning toward Monsieur de Belvigne, she said: + +"You shall be my escort, my little Malmsey. I will take you all +after breakfast to the fete at Marly." + +There was, in fact, a fete at Marly. They introduced the two +newcomers to her, the Comte de Tamine and the Marquis de Briquetot. + +During the meal, she said nothing further, strengthening herself to +be gay in the afternoon, so that no one should guess anything,--so +that they should be all the more astonished, and should say: "Who +would have thought it? She seemed so happy, so contented! What does +take place in those heads?" + +She forced herself not to think of the evening, the chosen hour, +when they should all be upon the terrace. She drank as much wine as +she could stand, to nerve herself, and two little glasses of brandy, +and she was flushed as she left the table, a little bewildered, +heated in body and mind. It seemed to her that she was strengthened +now, and resolved for everything. + +"Let us start!" she cried. She took Monsieur de Belvigne's arm and +set the pace for the others. "Come, you shall form my battalion, +Servigny. I choose you as sergeant; you will keep outside the ranks, +on the right. You will make the foreign guard march in front--the +two exotics, the Prince, and the Chevalier--and in the rear the two +recruits who have enlisted to-day. Come!" + +They started. And Servigny began to imitate the trumpet, while the +two newcomers made believe to beat the drum. Monsieur de Belvigne, a +little confused, said in a low tone: + +"Mademoiselle Yvette, be reasonable, you will compromise yourself." + +She answered: "It is you whom I am compromising, Raisine. As for me, +I don't care much about it. To-morrow it will not occur. So much the +worse for you: you ought not to go out with girls like me." + +They went through Bougival to the amazement of the passers-by. All +turned to look at them; the citizens came to their doors; the +travelers on the little railway which runs from Ruril to Marly +jeered at them. The men on the platforms cried: + +"To the water with them!" + +Yvette marched with a military step, holding Belvigne by the arm, as +a prisoner is led. She did not laugh; upon her features sat a pale +seriousness, a sort of sinister calm. Servigny interrupted his +trumpet blasts only to shout orders. The Prince and the Chevalier +were greatly amused, finding all this very funny and in good taste. +The two recruits drummed away continually. + +When they arrived at the fete, they made a sensation. Girls +applauded; young men jeered, and a stout gentleman with his wife on +his arm said enviously: "There are some people who are full of fun." + +Yvette saw the wooden horses and compelled Belvigne to mount at her +right, while her squad scrambled upon the whirling beasts behind. +When the time was up she refused to dismount, constraining her +escort to take several more rides on the back of these children's +animals, to the great delight of the public, who shouted jokes at +them. Monsieur de Belvigne was livid and dizzy when he got off. + +Then she began to wander among the booths. She forced all her men to +get weighed among a crowd of spectators. She made them buy +ridiculous toys which they had to carry in their hands. The Prince +and the Chevalier began to think the joke was being carried too far. +Servigny and the drummers, alone, did not seem to be discouraged. + +They finally came to the end of the place. Then she gazed at her +followers in a peculiar manner, with a shy and mischievous glance, +and a strange fancy came to her mind. She drew them up on the bank +of the river. + +"Let the one who loves me the most jump into the water," she said. + +Nobody leaped. A mob gathered behind them. Women in white aprons +looked on in stupor. Two troopers, in red breeches, laughed loudly. + +She repeated: "Then there is not one of you capable of jumping into +the water at my desire?" + +Servigny murmured: "Oh, yes, there is," and leaped feet foremost +into the river. His plunge cast a splash over as far as Yvette's +feet. A murmur of astonishment and gaiety arose in the crowd. + +Then the young girl picked up from the ground a little piece of +wood, and throwing it into the stream: "Fetch it," she cried. + +The young man began to swim, and seizing the floating stick in his +mouth, like a dog, he brought it ashore, and then climbing the bank +he kneeled on one knee to present it. + +Yvette took it. "You are handsome," said she, and with a friendly +stroke, she caressed his hair. + +A stout woman indignantly exclaimed: "Are such things possible!" + +Another woman said: "Can people amuse themselves like that!" + +A man remarked: "I would not take a plunge for that sort of a girl." + +She again took Belvigne's arm, exclaiming in his face: "You are a +goose, my friend; you don't know what you missed." + +They now returned. She cast vexed looks on the passers-by. "How +stupid all these people seem," she said. Then raising her eyes to +the countenance of her companion, she added: "You, too, like all the +rest." + +M. de Belvigne bowed. Turning around she saw that the Prince and the +Chevalier had disappeared. Servigny, dejected and dripping, ceased +playing on the trumpet, and walked with a gloomy air at the side of +the two wearied young men, who also had stopped the drum playing. +She began to laugh dryly, saying: + +"You seem to have had enough; nevertheless, that is what you call +having a good time, isn't it? You came for that; I have given you +your money's worth." + +Then she walked on, saying nothing further; and suddenly Belvigne +perceived that she was weeping. Astounded, he inquired: + +"What is the matter?" + +She murmured: "Let me alone, it does not concern you." + +But he insisted, like a fool: "Oh, Mademoiselle, come, what is the +matter, has anyone annoyed you?" + +She repeated impatiently: "Will you keep still?" + +Then suddenly, no longer able to resist the despairing sorrow which +drowned her heart, she began to sob so violently, that she could no +longer walk. She covered her face with her hands, panting for +breath, choked by the violence of her despair. + +Belvigne stood still at her side, quite bewildered, repeating: "I +don't understand this at all." + +But Servigny brusquely came forward: "Let us go home, Mam'zelle, so +that people may not see you weeping in the street. Why do you +perpetrate follies like that when they only make you sad?" + +And taking her arm he drew her forward. But as soon as they reached +the iron gate of the villa she began to run, crossed the garden, and +went upstairs, and shut herself in her room. She did not appear +again until the dinner hour, very pale and serious. Servigny had +bought from a country storekeeper a workingman's costume, with +velvet pantaloons, a flowered waistcoat and a blouse, and he adopted +the local dialect. Yvette was in a hurry for them to finish, feeling +her courage ebbing. As soon as the coffee was served she went to her +room again. + +She heard the merry voices beneath her window. The Chevalier was +making equivocal jokes, foreign witticisms, vulgar and clumsy. She +listened, in despair. Servigny, just a bit tipsy, was imitating the +common workingman, calling the Marquise "the Missus." And all of a +sudden he said to Saval: "Well, Boss?" That caused a general laugh. + +Then Yvette decided. She first took a sheet of paper and wrote: + + "Bougival, Sunday, nine o'clock in the evening. + "I die so that I may not become a kept woman. + + "YVETTE." + +Then in a postscript: + + "Adieu, my dear mother, pardon." + +She sealed the envelope, and addressed it to the Marquise Obardi. + +Then she rolled her long chair near the window, drew a little table +within reach of her hand, and placed upon it the big bottle of +chloroform beside a handful of wadding. + +A great rose-tree covered with flowers, climbing as high as her +window, exhaled in the night a soft and gentle perfume, in light +breaths; and she stood for a moment enjoying it. The moon, in its +first quarter, was floating in the dark sky, a little ragged at the +left, and veiled at times by slight mists. + +Yvette thought: "I am going to die!" And her heart, swollen with +sobs, nearly bursting, almost suffocated her. She felt in her a need +of asking mercy from some one, of being saved, of being loved. + +The voice of Servigny aroused her. He was telling an improper story, +which was constantly interrupted by bursts of laughter. The Marquise +herself laughed louder than the others. + +"There is nobody like him for telling that sort of thing," she said, +laughing. + +Yvette took the bottle, uncorked it, and poured a little of the +liquid on the cotton. A strong, sweet, strange odor arose; and as +she brought the piece of cotton to her lips, the fumes entered her +throat and made her cough. + +Then shutting her mouth, she began to inhale it. She took in long +breaths of this deadly vapor, closing her eyes, and forcing herself +to stifle in her mind all thoughts, so that she might not reflect, +that she might know nothing more. + +It seemed to her at first that her chest was growing larger, was +expanding, and that her soul, recently heavy and burdened with +grief, was becoming light, light, as if the weight which overwhelmed +her was lifted, wafted away. Something lively and agreeable +penetrated even to the extremities of her limbs, even to the tips of +her toes and fingers and entered her flesh, a sort of dreamy +intoxication, of soft fever. She saw that the cotton was dry, and +she was astonished that she was not already dead. Her senses seemed +more acute, more subtle, more alert. She heard the lowest whisper on +the terrace. Prince Kravalow was telling how he had killed an +Austrian general in a duel. + +Then, further off, in the fields, she heard the noise of the night, +the occasional barkings of a dog, the short cry of the frogs, the +almost imperceptible rustling of the leaves. + +She took the bottle again, and saturated once more the little piece +of wadding; then she began to breathe in the fumes again. For a few +moments she felt nothing; then that soft and soothing feeling of +comfort which she had experienced before enveloped her. + +Twice she poured more chloroform upon the cotton, eager now for that +physical and mental sensation, that dreamy torpor, which bewildered +her soul. + +It seemed to her that she had no more bones, flesh, legs, or arms. +The drug had gently taken all these away from her, without her +perceiving it. The chloroform had drawn away her body, leaving her +only her mind, more awakened, more active, larger, and more free +than she had ever felt it. + +She recalled a thousand forgotten things, little details of her +childhood, trifles which had given her pleasure. Endowed suddenly +with an awakened agility, her mind leaped to the most diverse ideas, +ran through a thousand adventures, wandered in the past, and lost +itself in the hoped-for events of the future. And her lively and +careless thoughts had a sensuous charm: she experienced a divine +pleasure in dreaming thus. + +She still heard the voices, but she could no longer distinguish the +words, which to her seemed to have a different meaning. She was in a +kind of strange and changing fairyland. + +She was on a great boat which floated through a beautiful country, +all covered with flowers. She saw people on the shore, and these +people spoke very loudly; then she was again on land, without asking +how, and Servigny, clad as a prince, came to seek her, to take her +to a bull-fight. + +The streets were filled with passers-by, who were talking, and she +heard conversations which did not astonish her, as if she had known +the people, for through her dreamy intoxication, she still heard her +mother's friends laughing and talking on the terrace. + +Then everything became vague. Then she awakened, deliciously +benumbed, and she could hardly remember what had happened. + +So, she was not yet dead. But she felt so calm, in such a state of +physical comfort, that she was not in haste to finish with it--she +wanted to make this exquisite drowsiness last forever. + +She breathed slowly and looked at the moon, opposite her, above the +trees. Something had changed in her spirit. She no longer thought as +she had done just now. The chloroform quieting her body and her soul +had calmed her grief and lulled her desire to die. + +Why should she not live? Why should she not be loved? Why should she +not lead a happy life? Everything appeared possible to her now, and +easy and certain. Everything in life was sweet, everything was +charming. But as she wished to dream on still, she poured more of +the dream-water on the cotton and began to breathe it in again, +stopping at times, so as not to absorb too much of it and die. + +She looked at the moon and saw in it a face, a woman's face. She +began to scorn the country in the fanciful intoxication of the drug. +That face swung in the sky; then it sang, it sang with a well-known +voice the alleluia of love. + +It was the Marquise, who had come in and seated herself at the +piano. + +Yvette had wings now. She was flying through a clear night, above +the wood and streams. She was flying with delight, opening and +closing her wings, borne by the wind as by a caress. She moved in +the air, which kissed her skin, and she went so fast, so fast, that +she had no time to see anything beneath her, and she found herself +seated on the bank of a pond with a line in her hand; she was +fishing. + +Something pulled on the cord, and when she drew it out of the water, +it bore a magnificent pearl necklace, which she had longed for some +time ago. She was not at all astonished at this deed, and she looked +at Servigny, who had come to her side--she knew not how. He was +fishing also, and drew out of the river a wooden horse. + +Then she had anew the feeling of awaking, and she heard some one +calling down stairs. Her mother had said: + +"Put out the candle." Then Servigny's voice rose, clear and jesting: + +"Put out your candle, Mam'zelle Yvette." + +And all took up the chorus: "Mam'zelle Yvette, put out your candle." + +She again poured chloroform on the cotton, but, as she did not want +to die, she placed it far enough from her face to breathe the fresh +air, while nevertheless her room was filled with the asphyxiating +odor of the narcotic, for she knew that some one was coming, and +taking a suitable posture, a pose of the dead, she waited. + +The Marquise said: "I am a little uneasy! That foolish child has +gone to sleep leaving the light on her table. I will send Clemence +to put it out, and to shut the balcony window, which is wide open." + +And soon the maid rapped on the door calling: "Mademoiselle, +Mademoiselle!" After a moment's silence, she repeated: +"Mademoiselle, Madame the Marquise begs you to put out your candle +and shut the window." + +Clemence waited a little, then knocked louder, and cried: + +"Mademoiselle, Mademoiselle!" + +As Yvette did not reply, the servant went away and reported to the +Marquise: + +"Mademoiselle must have gone to sleep, her door is bolted, and I +could not awaken her." + +Madame Obardi murmured: + +"But she must not stay like that," + +Then, at the suggestion of Servigny, they all gathered under the +window, shouting in chorus: + +"Hip! hip! hurrah! Mam'zelle Yvette." + +Their clamor rose in the calm night, through the transparent air +beneath the moon, over the sleeping country; and they heard it die +away in the distance like the sound of a disappearing train. + +As Yvette did not answer the Marquise said: "I only hope that +nothing has happened. I am beginning to be afraid." + +Then Servigny, plucking red roses from a big rosebush trained along +the wall and buds not yet opened, began to throw them into the room +through the window. + +At the first rose that fell at her side, Yvette started and almost +cried out. Others fell upon her dress, others upon her hair, while +others going over her head fell upon the bed, covering it with a +rain of flowers. + +The Marquise, in a choking voice, cried: "Come, Yvette, answer." + +Then Servigny declared: "Truly this is not natural; I am going to +climb up by the balcony." + +But the Chevalier grew indignant. + +"Now, let me do it," he said. "It is a great favor I ask; it is too +good a means, and too good a time to obtain a rendezvous." + +All the rest, who thought the young girl was joking, cried: "We +protest! He shall not climb up." + +But the Marquise, disturbed, repeated: "And yet some one must go and +see." + +The Prince exclaimed with a dramatic gesture: + +"She favors the Duke, we are betrayed." + +"Let us toss a coin to see who shall go up," said the Chevalier. He +took a five-franc piece from his pocket, and began with the Prince. + +"Tail," said he. It was head. + +The Prince tossed the coin in his turn saying to Saval: "Call, +Monsieur." + +Saval called "Head." It was tail. + +The Prince then gave all the others a chance, and they all lost. + +Servigny, who was standing opposite him, exclaimed in his insolent +way: "PARBLEU! he is cheating!" + +The Russian put his hand on his heart and held out the gold piece to +his rival, saying: "Toss it yourself, my dear Duke." + +Servigny took it and spinning it up, said: "Head." It was tail. + +He bowed and pointing to the pillar of the balcony said: "Climb up, +Prince." But the Prince looked about him with a disturbed air. + +"What are you looking for?" asked the Chevalier. + +"Well,--I--would--like--a ladder." A general laugh followed. + +Saval, advancing, said: "We will help you." + +He lifted him in his arms, as strong as those of Hercules, telling +him: + +"Now climb to that balcony." + +The Prince immediately clung to it, and. Saval letting him go, he +swung there, suspended in the air, moving his legs in empty space. + +Then Servigny, seeing his struggling legs which sought a resting +place, pulled them downward with all his strength; the hands lost +their grip and the Prince fell in a heap on Monsieur de Belvigne, +who was coming to aid him. "Whose turn next?" asked Servigny. No one +claimed the privilege. + +"Come, Belvigne, courage!" + +"Thank you, my dear boy, I am thinking of my bones." + +"Come, Chevalier, you must be used to scaling walls." + +"I give my place to you, my dear Duke." + +"Ha, ha, that is just what I expected." + +Servigny, with a keen eye, turned to the pillar. Then with a leap, +clinging to the balcony, he drew himself up like a gymnast and +climbed over the balustrade. + +All the spectators, gazing at him, applauded. But he immediately +reappeared, calling: + +"Come, quick! Come, quick! Yvette is unconscious." The Marquise +uttered a loud cry, and rushed for the stairs. + +The young girl, her eyes closed, pretended to be dead. Her mother +entered distracted, and threw her self upon her. + +"Tell me what is the matter with her, what is the matter with her?" + +Servigny picked up the bottle of chloroform which had fallen upon +the floor. + +"She has drugged herself," said he. + +He placed his ear to her heart; then he added: + +"But she is not dead; we can resuscitate her. Have you any ammonia?" + +The maid, bewildered, repeated: "Any what, Monsieur?" + +"Any smelling-salts." + +"Yes, Monsieur." "Bring them at once, and leave the door open to +make a draft of air." + +The Marquise, on her knees, was sobbing: "Yvette! Yvette, my +daughter, my daughter, listen, answer me, Yvette, my child. Oh, my +God! my God! what has she done?" + +The men, frightened, moved about without speaking, bringing water, +towels, glasses, and vinegar. Some one said: "She ought to be +undressed." And the Marquise, who had lost her head, tried to +undress her daughter; but did not know what she was doing. Her hands +trembled and faltered, and she groaned: + +"I cannot,--I cannot--" + +The maid had come back bringing a druggist's bottle which Servigny +opened and from which he poured out half upon a handkerchief. Then +he applied it to Yvette's nose, causing her to choke. + +"Good, she breathes," said he. "It will be nothing." + +And he bathed her temples, cheeks, and neck with the pungent liquid. + +Then he made a sign to the maid to unlace the girl, and when she had +nothing more on than a skirt over her chemise, he raised her in his +arms and carried her to the bed, quivering, moved by the odor and +contact of her flesh. Then she was placed in bed. He arose very +pale. + +"She will come to herself," he said, "it is nothing." For he had +heard her breathe in a continuous and regular way. But seeing all +the men with their eyes fixed on Yvette in bed, he was seized with a +jealous irritation, and advanced toward them. "Gentlemen," he said, +"there are too many of us in this room; be kind enough to leave us +alone,--Monsieur Saval and me--with the Marquise." + +He spoke in a tone which was dry and full of authority. + +Madame Obardi had grasped her lover, and with her head uplifted +toward him she cried to him: + +"Save her, oh, save her!" + +But Servigny turning around saw a letter on the table. He seized it +with a rapid movement, and read the address. He understood and +thought: "Perhaps it would be better if the Marquise should not know +of this," and tearing open the envelope, he devoured at a glance the +two lines it contained: + + "I die so that I may not become a kept woman." + "Yvette." + + "Adieu, my dear mother, pardon." + +"The devil!" he thought, "this calls for reflection." And he hid the +letter in his pocket. + +Then he approached the bed, and immediately the thought came to him +that the young girl had regained consciousness but that she dared +not show it, from shame, from humiliation, and from fear of +questioning. The Marquise had fallen on her knees now, and was +weeping, her head on the, foot of the bed. Suddenly she exclaimed: + +"A doctor, we must have a doctor!" + +But Servigny, who had just said something in a low tone to Saval, +replied to her: "No, it is all over. Come, go out a minute, just a +minute, and I promise you that she will kiss you when you come +back." And the Baron, taking Madame Obardi by the arm, led her from +the room. + +Then Servigny, sitting-by the bed, took Yvette's hand and said: +"Mam'zelle, listen to me." + +She did not answer. She felt so well, so soft and warm in bed, that +she would have liked never to move, never to speak, and to live like +that forever. An infinite comfort had encompassed her, a comfort the +like of which she had never experienced. + +The mild night air coming in by velvety breaths touched her temples +in an exquisite almost imperceptible way. It was a caress like a +kiss of the wind, like the soft and refreshing breath of a fan made +of all the leaves of the trees and of all the shadows of the night, +of the mist of rivers, and of all the flowers too, for the roses +tossed up from below into her room and upon her bed, and the roses +climbing at her balcony, mingled their heavy perfume with the +healthful savor of the evening breeze. + +She drank in this air which was so good, her eyes closed, her heart +reposing in the yet pervading intoxication of the drug, and she had +no longer at all the desire to die, but a strong, imperious wish to +live, to be happy--no matter how--to be loved, yes, to be loved. + +Servigny repeated: "Mam'zelle Yvette, listen to me." + +And she decided to open her eyes. + +He continued, as he saw her reviving: "Come! Come! what does this +nonsense mean?" + +She murmured: "My poor Muscade, I was so unhappy." + +He squeezed her hand: "And that led you into a pretty scrape! Come, +you must promise me not to try it again." + +She did not reply, but nodded her head slightly with an almost +imperceptible smile. He drew from his pocket the letter which he had +found on the table: + +"Had I better show this to your mother?" + +She shook her head, no. He knew not what more to say for the +situation seemed to him without an outlet. So he murmured + +"My dear child, everyone has hard things to bear. I understand your +sorrow and I promise you--" + +She stammered: "You are good." + +They were silent. He looked at her. She had in her glance something +of tenderness, of weakness; and suddenly she raised both her arms, +as if she would draw him to her; he bent over her, feeling that she +called him, and their lips met. + +For a long time they remained thus, their eyes closed. + +But, knowing that he would lose his head, he drew away. She smiled +at him now, most tenderly; and, with both her hands clinging to his +shoulders, she held him. + +"I am going to call your mother," he said. + +She murmured: "Just a second more. I am so happy." + +Then after a silence, she said in a tone so low that it could +scarcely be heard: "Will you love me very much? Tell me!" + +He kneeled beside her bed, and kissing the hand she had given him, +said: "I adore you." But some one was walking near the door. He +arose with a bound, and called in his ordinary voice, which seemed +nevertheless a little ironical: "You may come in. It is all right +now." + +The Marquise threw herself on her daughter, with both arms open, and +clasped her frantically, covering her countenance with tears, while +Servigny with radiant soul and quivering body went out upon the +balcony to breathe the fresh air of the night, humming to himself +the old couplet: + + "A woman changeth oft her mind: + Yet fools still trust in womankind." + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg Etext of Yvette, by Henri Rene Guy de Maupassant + diff --git a/old/yvtte10.zip b/old/yvtte10.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..0ad9eef --- /dev/null +++ b/old/yvtte10.zip |