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| committer | Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org> | 2025-10-15 05:22:40 -0700 |
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diff --git a/3971-h/3971-h.htm b/3971-h/3971-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..a708041 --- /dev/null +++ b/3971-h/3971-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,10546 @@ +<?xml version="1.0" encoding="utf-8"?> + +<!DOCTYPE html + PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd" > + +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" lang="en"> + <head> + <title> + Jacqueline, by (Mme. Blanc) Therese Bentzon + </title> + <style type="text/css" xml:space="preserve"> + + body { margin:5%; background:#faebd7; text-align:justify} + P { text-indent: 1em; margin-top: .25em; margin-bottom: .25em; } + H1,H2,H3,H4,H5,H6 { text-align: center; margin-left: 15%; margin-right: 15%; } + hr { width: 50%; text-align: center;} + .foot { margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; text-align: justify; text-indent: -3em; font-size: 90%; } + blockquote {font-size: 97%; font-style: italic; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%;} + .mynote {background-color: #DDE; color: #000; padding: .5em; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 95%;} + .toc { margin-left: 10%; margin-bottom: .75em;} + .toc2 { margin-left: 20%;} + div.fig { display:block; margin:0 auto; text-align:center; } + .figleft {float: left; margin-left: 0%; margin-right: 1%;} + .figright {float: right; margin-right: 0%; margin-left: 1%;} + pre { font-style: italic; font-size: 90%; margin-left: 10%;} + +</style> + </head> + <body> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> +Project Gutenberg's Jacqueline, Complete, by Th. Bentzon (Mme. Blanc) + +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: Jacqueline, Complete + +Author: (Mme. Blanc) Th. Bentzon + +Release Date: October 5, 2006 [EBook #3971] +Last Updated: August 23, 2016 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK JACQUELINE, COMPLETE *** + + + +Produced by David Widger + + + + + +</pre> + + <h1> + JACQUELINE + </h1> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <h2> + By (Mme. Blanc) Therese Bentzon + </h2> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <h3> + With a Preface by M. THUREAU-DANGIN, of the French Academy + </h3> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <blockquote> + <p class="toc"> + <big><b>CONTENTS</b></big> + </p> + <p> + <br /> <a href="#link2H_4_0001"> TH. BENTZON </a><br /><br /> <a + href="#link2H_4_0002"> <b>JACQUELINE</b> </a><br /><br /><br /> <a + href="#link2H_4_0003"> <b>BOOK 1.</b> </a> <br /><br /> <a + href="#link2HCH0001"> CHAPTER I. </a>A PARISIENNE’S “AT HOME” <br /><br /> + <a href="#link2HCH0002"> CHAPTER II. </a>A CLEVER STEPMOTHER <br /><br /> + <a href="#link2HCH0003"> CHAPTER III. </a>THE FRIEND OF THE FAY <br /><br /> + <a href="#link2HCH0004"> CHAPTER IV. </a>A DANGEROUS MODEL <br /><br /> <a + href="#link2HCH0005"> CHAPTER V. </a>SURPRISES <br /><br /> <a + href="#link2HCH0006"> CHAPTER VI. </a>A CONVENT FLOWER <br /><br /> <a + href="#link2H_4_0010"> <b>BOOK 2.</b> </a> <br /><br /> <a + href="#link2HCH0007"> CHAPTER VII. </a>THE BLUE BAND <br /><br /> <a + href="#link2HCH0008"> CHAPTER VIII. </a>A PUZZLING CORRESPONDENCE <br /><br /> + <a href="#link2HCH0009"> CHAPTER IX. </a>BEAUTY AT THE FAIR <br /><br /> + <a href="#link2HCH0010"> CHAPTER X. </a>GISELLE’S CONSOLATION <br /><br /> + <a href="#link2HCH0011"> CHAPTER XI. </a>FRED ASKS A QUESTION <br /><br /> + <a href="#link2HCH0012"> CHAPTER XII. </a>A COMEDY AND A TRAGEDY <br /><br /> + <a href="#link2HCH0013"> CHAPTER XIII. </a>THE STORM BREAKS <br /><br /> + <a href="#link2H_4_0018"> <b>BOOK 3.</b> </a> <br /><br /> <a + href="#link2HCH0014"> CHAPTER XIV. </a>BITTER DISILLUSION <br /><br /> <a + href="#link2HCH0015"> CHAPTER XV. </a>TREACHEROUS KINDNESS <br /><br /> <a + href="#link2HCH0016"> CHAPTER XVI. </a>THE SAILOR’S RETURN <br /><br /> <a + href="#link2HCH0017"> CHAPTER XVII. </a>TWIN DEVILS <br /><br /> <a + href="#link2HCH0018"> CHAPTER XVIII. </a>"AN AFFAIR OF + HONOR” <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0019"> CHAPTER XIX. </a>GENTLE + CONSPIRATORS <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0020"> CHAPTER XX. </a>A + CHIVALROUS SOUL <br /><br /> + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <a name="link2H_4_0001" id="link2H_4_0001"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <h2> + TH. BENTZON + </h2> + <p> + It is natural that the attention and affection of Americans should be + attracted to a woman who has devoted herself assiduously to understanding + and to making known the aspirations of our country, especially in + introducing the labors and achievements of our women to their sisters in + France, of whom we also have much to learn; for simple, homely virtues and + the charm of womanliness may still be studied with advantage on the + cherished soil of France. + </p> + <p> + Marie-Therese Blanc, nee Solms—for this is the name of the author + who writes under the nom de plume of Madame Bentzon—is considered + the greatest of living French female novelists. She was born in an old + French chateau at Seine-Porte (Seine et Oise), September 21, 1840. This + chateau was owned by Madame Bentzon’s grandmother, the Marquise de Vitry, + who was a woman of great force and energy of character, “a ministering + angel” to her country neighborhood. Her grandmother’s first marriage was + to a Dane, Major-General Adrien-Benjamin de Bentzon, a Governor of the + Danish Antilles. By this marriage there was one daughter, the mother of + Therese, who in turn married the Comte de Solms. “This mixture of races,” + Madame Blanc once wrote, “surely explains a kind of moral and intellectual + cosmopolitanism which is found in my nature. My father of German descent, + my mother of Danish—my nom de plume (which was her maiden-name) is + Danish—with Protestant ancestors on her side, though she and I were + Catholics—my grandmother a sound and witty Parisian, gay, brilliant, + lively, with superb physical health and the consequent good spirits—surely + these materials could not have produced other than a cosmopolitan being.” + </p> + <p> + Somehow or other, the family became impoverished. Therese de Solms took to + writing stories. After many refusals, her debut took place in the ‘Revue + des Deux Mondes’, and her perseverance was largely due to the + encouragement she received from George Sand, although that great woman saw + everything through the magnifying glass of her genius. But the person to + whom Therese Bentzon was most indebted in the matter of literary advice—she + says herself—was the late M. Caro, the famous Sorbonne professor of + philosophy, himself an admirable writer, “who put me through a course of + literature, acting as my guide through a vast amount of solid reading, and + criticizing my work with kindly severity.” Success was slow. Strange as it + may seem, there is a prejudice against female writers in France, a country + that has produced so many admirable women-authors. However, the time was + to come when M. Becloz found one of her stories in the ‘Journal des + Debats’. It was the one entitled ‘Un Divorce’, and he lost no time in + engaging the young writer to become one of his staff. From that day to + this she has found the pages of the Revue always open to her. + </p> + <p> + Madame Bentzon is a novelist, translator, and writer of literary essays. + The list of her works runs as follows: ‘Le Roman d’un Muet (1868); Un + Divorce (1872); La Grande Sauliere (1877); Un remords (1878); Yette and + Georgette (1880); Le Retour (1882); Tete folle (1883); Tony, (1884); + Emancipee (1887); Constance (1891); Jacqueline (1893). We need not enter + into the merits of style and composition if we mention that ‘Un remords, + Tony, and Constance’ were crowned by the French Academy, and ‘Jacqueline’ + in 1893. Madame Bentzon is likewise the translator of Aldrich, Bret Harte, + Dickens, and Ouida. Some of her critical works are ‘Litterature et Moeurs + etrangeres’, 1882, and ‘Nouveaux romanciers americains’, 1885. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + M. THUREAU-DANGIN + de l’Academie Francaise. +</pre> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <a name="link2H_4_0002" id="link2H_4_0002"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <h1> + JACQUELINE + </h1> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0003" id="link2H_4_0003"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + BOOK 1. + </h2> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0001" id="link2HCH0001"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER I. A PARISIENNE’S “AT HOME” + </h2> + <p> + Despite a short frock, checked stockings, wide turned-over collar, and a + loose sash around the waist of her blouse in other words, despite the + childish fashion of a dress which seemed to denote that she was not more + than thirteen or fourteen years of age, she seemed much older. An observer + would have put her down as the oldest of the young girls who on Tuesdays, + at Madame de Nailles’s afternoons, filled what was called “the young + girls’ corner” with whispered merriment and low laughter, while, under + pretence of drinking tea, the noise went on which is always audible when + there is anything to eat. + </p> + <p> + No doubt the amber tint of this young girl’s complexion, the raven + blackness of her hair, her marked yet delicate features, and the general + impression produced by her dark coloring, were reasons why she seemed + older than the rest. It was Jacqueline’s privilege to exhibit that style + of beauty which comes earliest to perfection, and retains it longest; and, + what was an equal privilege, she resembled no one. + </p> + <p> + The deep bow-window—her favorite spot—which enabled her to + have a reception-day in connection with that of her mamma, seemed like a + great basket of roses when all her friends assembled there, seated on low + chairs in unstudied attitudes: the white rose of the group was + Mademoiselle d’Etaples, a specimen of pale and pensive beauty, frail + almost to transparency; the Rose of Bengal was the charming Colette + Odinska, a girl of Polish race, but born in Paris; the dark-red rose was + Isabelle Ray-Belle she was called triumphantly—whose dimpled cheeks + flushed scarlet for almost any cause, some said for very coquetry. Then + there were three little girls called Wermant, daughters of an agent de + change—a spray of May roses, exactly alike in features, manners, and + dress, sprightly and charming as little girls could be. A little pompon + rose was tiny Dorothee d’Avrigny, to whom the pet name Dolly was + appropriate, for never had any doll’s waxen face been more lovely than her + little round one, with its mouth shaped like a little heart—a mouth + smaller than her eyes, and these were round eyes, too, but so bright, and + blue, and soft, that it was easy to overlook their too frequently startled + expression. + </p> + <p> + Jacqueline had nothing in common with a rose of any kind, but she was not + the less charming to look at. Such was the unspoken reflection of a man + who was well able to be a judge in such matters. His name was Hubert + Marien. He was a great painter, and was now watching the clear-cut, + somewhat Arab—like profile of this girl—a profile brought out + distinctly against the dark-red silk background of a screen, much as we + see a cameo stand out in sharp relief from the glittering stone from which + the artist has fashioned it. Marien looked at her from a distance, leaning + against the fireplace of the farther salon, whence he could see plainly + the corner shaded by green foliage plants where Jacqueline had made her + niche, as she called it. The two rooms formed practically but one, being + separated only by a large recess without folding-doors, or ‘portires’. + Hubert Marien, from his place behind Madame de Nailles’s chair, had often + before watched Jacqueline as he was watching her at this moment. She had + grown up, as it were, under his own eye. He had seen her playing with her + dolls, absorbed in her story-books, and crunching sugar-plums, he had paid + her visits—for how many years? He did not care to count them. + </p> + <p> + And little girls bloom fast! How old they make us feel! Who would have + supposed the most unpromising of little buds would have transformed itself + so soon into what he gazed upon? Marien, as an artist, had great pleasure + in studying the delicate outline of that graceful head surmounted by thick + tresses, with rebellious ringlets rippling over the brow before they were + gathered into the thick braid that hung behind; and Jacqueline, although + she appeared to be wholly occupied with her guests, felt the gaze that was + fixed upon her, and was conscious of its magnetic influence, from which + nothing would have induced her to escape even had she been able. All the + young girls were listening attentively (despite their more serious + occupation of consuming dainties) to what was going on in the next room + among the grown-up people, whose conversation reached them only in + detached fragments. + </p> + <p> + So long as the subject talked about was the last reception at the French + Academy, these young girls (comrades in the class-room and at the weekly + catechising) had been satisfied to discuss together their own little + affairs, but after Colonel de Valdonjon began to talk complete silence + reigned among them. One might have heard the buzzing of a fly. Their + attention, however, was of little use. Exclamations of oh! and ah! and + protests more or less sincere drowned even the loud and somewhat hoarse + voice of the Colonel. The girls heard it only through a sort of general + murmur, out of which a burst of astonishment or of dissent would + occasionally break forth. These outbreaks were all the curious group could + hear distinctly. They sniffed, as it were, at the forbidden fruit, but + they longed to inhale the full perfume of the scandal that they felt was + in the air. That stout officer of cuirassiers, of whom some people spoke + as “The Chatterbox,” took advantage of his profession to tell many an + unsavory story which he had picked up or invented at his club. He had come + to Madame de Nailles’s reception with a brand-new concoction of falsehood + and truth, a story likely to be hawked round Paris with great success for + several weeks to come, though ladies on first hearing it would think + proper to cry out that they would not even listen to it, and would pretend + to look round them for their fans to hide their confusion. + </p> + <p> + The principal object of interest in this scandalous gossip was a valuable + diamond bracelet, one of those priceless bits of jewelry seldom seen + except in show-windows on the Rue de la Paix, intended to be bought only + for presentation to princesses—of some sort or kind. Well, by an + extraordinary, chance the Marquise de Versannes—aye, the lovely + Georgine de Versannes herself—had picked up this bracelet in the + street—by chance, as it were. + </p> + <p> + “It so happened,” said the Colonel, “that I was at her mother-in-law’s, + where she was going to dine. She came in looking as innocent as you + please, with her hand in her pocket. ‘Oh, see what I have found!’ she + cried. ‘I stepped upon it almost at your door.’ And the bracelet was + placed under a lamp, where the diamonds shot out sparkles fit to blind the + old Marquise, and make that old fool of a Versannes see a thousand lights. + He has long known better than to take all his wife says for gospel—but + he tries hard to pretend that he believes her. ‘My dear,’ he said, ‘you + must take that to the police.’—‘I’ll send it to-morrow morning,’ + says the charming Georgine, ‘but I wished to show you my good luck.’ Of + course nobody came forward to claim the bracelet, and a month later Madame + de Versannes appeared at the Cranfords’ ball with a brilliant diamond + bracelet, worn like the Queen of Sheba’s, high up on her arm, near the + shoulder, to hide the lack of sleeve. This piece of finery, which drew + everybody’s attention to the wearer, was the famous bracelet picked up in + the street. Clever of her!—wasn’t it, now?” + </p> + <p> + “Horrid! Unlikely! Impossible.... What do you mean us to understand about + it, Colonel? Could she have...?” + </p> + <p> + Then the Colonel went on to demonstrate, with many coarse insinuations, + that that good Georgine, as he familiarly called her, had done many more + things than people gave her credit for. And he went on to add: “Surely, + you must have heard of the row about her between Givrac and the + Homme-Volant at the Cirque?” + </p> + <p> + “What, the man that wears stockinet all covered with gold scales? Do tell + us, Colonel!” + </p> + <p> + But here Madame de Nailles gave a dry little cough which was meant to + impose silence on the subject. She was not a prude, but she disapproved of + anything that was bad form at her receptions. The Colonel’s revelations + had to be made in a lower tone, while his hostess endeavored to bring back + the conversation to the charming reply made by M. Renan to the somewhat + insipid address of a member of the Academie. + </p> + <p> + “We sha’n’t hear anything more now,” said Colette, with a sigh. “Did you + understand it, Jacqueline?” + </p> + <p> + “Understand—what?” + </p> + <p> + “Why, that story about the bracelet?” + </p> + <p> + “No—not all. The Colonel seemed to imply that she had not picked it + up, and indeed I don’t see how any one could have dropped in the street, + in broad daylight, a bracelet meant only to be worn at night—a + bracelet worn near the shoulder.” + </p> + <p> + “But if she did not pick it up—she must have stolen it.” + </p> + <p> + “Stolen it?” cried Belle. “Stolen it! What! The Marquise de Versannes? + Why, she inherited the finest diamonds in Paris!” + </p> + <p> + “How do you know?” + </p> + <p> + “Because mamma sometimes takes me to the Opera, and her subscription day + is the same as that of the Marquise. People say a good deal of harm of her—in + whispers. They say she is barely received now in society, that people turn + their backs on her, and so forth, and so on. However, that did not hinder + her from being superb the other evening at ‘Polyeucte’.” + </p> + <p> + “So you only go to see ‘Polyeucte’?” said Jacqueline, making a little face + as if she despised that opera. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I have seen it twice. Mamma lets me go to ‘Polyeucte’ and ‘Guillaume + Tell’, and to the ‘Prophete’, but she won’t take me to see ‘Faust’—and + it is just ‘Faust’ that I want to see. Isn’t it provoking that one can’t + see everything, hear everything, understand everything? You see, we could + not half understand that story which seemed to amuse the people so much in + the other room. Why did they send back the bracelet from the Prefecture to + Madame de Versannes if it was not hers?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes—why?” said all the little girls, much puzzled. + </p> + <p> + Meantime, as the hour for closing the exhibition at the neighboring + hippodrome had arrived, visitors came pouring into Madame de Nailles’s + reception—tall, graceful women, dressed with taste and elegance, as + befitted ladies who were interested in horsemanship. The tone of the + conversation changed. Nothing was talked about but superb horses, leaps + over ribbons and other obstacles. The young girls interested themselves in + the spring toilettes, which they either praised or criticised as they + passed before their eyes. + </p> + <p> + “Oh! there is Madame Villegry,” cried Jacqueline; “how handsome she is! I + should like one of these days to be that kind of beauty, so tall and + slender. Her waist measure is only twenty-one and two thirds inches. The + woman who makes her corsets and my mamma’s told us so. She brought us one + of her corsets to look at, a love of a corset, in brocatelle, all over + many-colored flowers. That material is much more ‘distingue’ than the old + satin—” + </p> + <p> + “But what a queer idea it is to waste all that upon a thing that nobody + will ever look at,” said Dolly, her round eyes opening wider than before. + </p> + <p> + “Oh! it is just to please herself, I suppose. I understand that! Besides, + nothing is too good for such a figure. But what I admire most is her + extraordinary hair.” + </p> + <p> + “Which changes its color now and then,” observed the sharpest of the three + Wermant sisters. “Extraordinary is just the word for it. At present it is + dark red. Henna did that, I suppose. Raoul—our brother—when he + was in Africa saw Arab women who used henna. They tied their heads up in a + sort of poultice made of little leaves, something like tea-leaves. In + twenty-four hours the hair will be dyed red, and will stay red for a year + or more. You can try it if you like. I think it is disgusting.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh! look, there is Madame de Sternay. I recognized her by her perfume + before I had even seen her. What delightful things good perfumes are!” + </p> + <p> + “What is it? Is it heliotrope or jessamine?” asked Yvonne d’Etaples, + sniffing in the air. + </p> + <p> + “No—it is only orris-root—nothing but orris-root; but she puts + it everywhere about her—in the hem of her petticoat, in the lining + of her dress. She lives, one might say, in the middle of a sachet. The + thing that will please me most when I am married will be to have no limit + to my perfumes. Till then I have to satisfy myself with very little,” + sighed Jacqueline, drawing a little bunch of violets from the loose folds + of her blouse, and inhaling their fragrance with delight. + </p> + <p> + “‘Tiens’! here comes somebody who has to be contented with much less,” + said Yvonne, as a young girl joined their circle. She was small, awkward, + timid, and badly dressed. On seeing her Colette whispered “Oh! that + tiresome Giselle. We sha’n’t be able to talk another word.” + </p> + <p> + Jacqueline kissed Giselle de Monredon. They were distant cousins, though + they saw each other very seldom. Giselle was an orphan, having lost both + her father and her mother, and was being educated in a convent from which + she was allowed to come out only on great occasions. Her grandmother, + whose ideas were those of the old school, had placed her there. The Easter + holidays accounted for Giselle’s unexpected arrival. Wrapped in a large + cloak which covered up her convent uniform, she looked, as compared with + the gay girls around her, like a poor sombre night-moth, dazzled by the + light, in company with other glittering creatures of the insect race, + fluttering with graceful movements, transparent wings and shining + corselets. + </p> + <p> + “Come and have some sandwiches,” said Jacqueline, and she drew Giselle to + the tea-table, with the kind intention apparently of making her feel more + at her ease. But she had another motive. She saw some one who was very + interesting to her coming at that moment toward the table. That some one + was a man about forty, whose pointed black beard was becoming slightly + gray—a man whom some people thought ugly, chiefly because they had + never seen his somewhat irregular features illumined by a smile which, + spreading from his lips to his eyes, lighted up his face and transformed + it. The smile of Hubert Marien was rare, however. He was exclusive in his + friendships, often silent, always somewhat unapproachable. He seldom + troubled himself to please any one he did not care for. In society he was + not seen to advantage, because he was extremely bored, for which reason he + was seldom to be seen at the Tuesday receptions of Madame de Nailles; + while, on other days, he frequented the house as an intimate friend of the + family. Jacqueline had known him all her life, and for her he had always + his beautiful smile. He had petted her when she was little, and had been + much amused by the sort of adoration she had no hesitation in showing that + she felt for him. He used to call her Mademoiselle ma femme, and M. de + Nailles would speak of him as “my daughter’s future husband.” This joke + had been kept up till the little lady had reached her ninth year, when it + ceased, probably by order of Madame de Nailles, who in matters of + propriety was very punctilious. Jacqueline, too, became less familiar than + she had been with the man she called “my great painter.” Indeed, in her + heart of hearts, she cherished a grudge against him. She thought he + presumed on the right he had assumed of teasing her. The older she grew + the more he treated her as if she were a baby, and, in the little passages + of arms that continually took place between them, Jacqueline was bitterly + conscious that she no longer had the best of it as formerly. She was no + longer as droll and lively as she had been. She was easily disconcerted, + and took everything ‘au serieux’, and her wits became paralyzed by an + embarrassment that was new to her. And, pained by the sort of sarcasm + which Marien kept up in all their intercourse, she was often ready to + burst into tears after talking to him. Yet she was never quite satisfied + unless he was present. She counted the days from one Wednesday to another, + for on Wednesdays he always dined with them, and she greeted any + opportunity of seeing him on other days as a great pleasure. This week, + for example, would be marked with a white stone. She would have seen him + twice. For half an hour Marien had been enduring the bore of the + reception, standing silent and self-absorbed in the midst of the gay talk, + which did not interest him. He wished to escape, but was always kept from + doing so by some word or sign from Madame de Nailles. Jacqueline had been + thinking: “Oh! if he would only come and talk to us!” He was now drawing + near them, and an instinct made her wish to rush up to him and tell him—what + should she tell him? She did not know. A few moments before so many things + to tell him had been passing through her brain. + </p> + <p> + What she said was: “Monsieur Marien, I recommend to you these little + spiced cakes.” And, with some awkwardness, because her hand was trembling, + she held out the plate to him. + </p> + <p> + “No, thank you, Mademoiselle,” he said, affecting a tone of great + ceremony, “I prefer to take this glass of punch, if you will permit me.” + </p> + <p> + “The punch is cold, I fear; suppose we were to put a little tea in it. + Stay—let me help you.” + </p> + <p> + “A thousand thanks; but I like to attend to such little cookeries myself. + By the way, it seems to me that Mademoiselle Giselle, in her character of + an angel who disapproves of the good things of this life, has not left us + much to eat at your table.” + </p> + <p> + “Who—I?” cried the poor schoolgirl, in a tone of injured innocence + and astonishment. + </p> + <p> + “Don’t pay any attention to him,” said Jacqueline, as if taking her under + her protection. “He is nothing but a tease; what he says is only chaff. + But I might as well talk Greek to her,” she added, shrugging her + shoulders. “In the convent they don’t know what to make of a joke. Only + spare her at least, if you please, Monsieur Marien.” + </p> + <p> + “I know by report that Mademoiselle Giselle is worthy of the most profound + respect,” continued the pitiless painter. “I lay myself at her feet—and + at yours. Now I am going to slip away in the English fashion. + Good-evening.” + </p> + <p> + “Why do you go so soon? You can’t do any more work today.” + </p> + <p> + “No, it has been a day lost—that is true.” + </p> + <p> + “That’s polite! By the way”—here Jacqueline became very red and she + spoke rapidly—“what made you just now stare at me so persistently?” + </p> + <p> + “I? Impossible that I could have permitted myself to stare at you, + Mademoiselle.” + </p> + <p> + “That is just what you did, though. I thought you had found something to + find fault with. What could it be? I fancied there was something wrong + with my hair, something absurd that you were laughing at. You always do + laugh, you know.” + </p> + <p> + “Wrong with your hair? It is always wrong. But that is not your fault. You + are not responsible for its looking like a hedgehog’s.” + </p> + <p> + “Hedgehogs haven’t any hair,” said Jacqueline, much hurt by the + observation. + </p> + <p> + “True, they have only prickles, which remind me of the susceptibility of + your temper. I beg your pardon I was looking at you critically. Being + myself indulgent and kindhearted, I was only looking at you from an + artist’s point of view—as is always allowable in my profession. + Remember, I see you very rarely by daylight. I am obliged to work as long + as the light allows me. Well, in the light of this April sunshine I was + saying to myself—excuse my boldness!—that you had reached the + right age for a picture.” + </p> + <p> + “For a picture? Were you thinking of painting me?” cried Jacqueline, + radiant with pleasure. + </p> + <p> + “Hold a moment, please. Between a dream and its execution lies a great + space. I was only imagining a picture of you.” + </p> + <p> + “But my portrait would be frightful.” + </p> + <p> + “Possibly. But that would depend on the skill of the painter.” + </p> + <p> + “And yet a model should be—I am so thin,” said Jacqueline, with + confusion and discouragement. + </p> + <p> + “True; your limbs are like a grasshopper’s.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh! you mean my legs—but my arms....” + </p> + <p> + “Your arms must be like your legs. But, sitting as you were just now, I + could see only your head, which is better. So! one has to be accountable + for looking at you? Mademoiselle feels herself affronted if any one stares + at her! I will remember this in future. There, now! suppose, instead of + quarrelling with me, you were to go and cast yourself into the arms of + your cousin Fred.” + </p> + <p> + “Fred! Fred d’Argy! Fred is at Brest.” + </p> + <p> + “Where are your eyes, my dear child? He has just come in with his mother.” + </p> + <p> + And at that moment Madame de Nailles, with her pure, clear voice—a + voice frequently compared to that of Mademoiselle Reichemberg, called: + </p> + <p> + “Jacqueline!” + </p> + <p> + Jacqueline never crossed the imaginary line which divided the two salons + unless she was called upon to do so. She was still summoned like a child + to speak to certain persons who took an especial interest in her, and who + were kind enough to wish to see her—Madame d’Argy, for example, who + had been the dearest friend of her dead mother. The death of that mother, + who had been long replaced by a stepmother, could hardly be said to be + deeply regretted by Jacqueline. She remembered her very indistinctly. The + stories of her she had heard from Modeste, her old nurse, probably served + her instead of any actual memory. She knew her only as a woman pale and in + ill health, always lying on a sofa. The little black frock that had been + made for her had been hardly worn out when a new mamma, as gay and fresh + as the other had been sick and suffering, had come into the household like + a ray of sunshine. + </p> + <p> + After that time Madame d’Argy and Modeste were the only people who spoke + to her of the mother who was gone. Madame d’Argy, indeed, came on certain + days to take her to visit the tomb, on which the child read, as she prayed + for the departed: + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + MARIE JACQUELINE ADELAIDE DE VALTIER + + BARONNE DE NAILLES + + DIED AGED TWENTY-SIX YEARS +</pre> + <p> + And such filial sentiment as she still retained, concerning the unknown + being who had been her mother, was tinged by her association with this + melancholy pilgrimage which she was expected to perform at certain + intervals. Without exactly knowing the reason why, Jacqueline was + conscious of a certain hostility that existed between Madame d’Argy and + her stepmother. + </p> + <p> + The intimate friend of the first Madame de Nailles was a woman with + neither elegance nor beauty. She never had left off her widow’s weeds, + which she had worn since she had lost her husband in early youth. In the + eyes of Jacqueline her sombre figure personified austere, exacting Duty, a + kind of duty not attractive to her. That very day it seemed as if duty + inconveniently stepped in to break up a conversation that was deeply + interesting to her. The impatient gesture that she made when her mother + called her might have been interpreted into: Bother Madame d’Argy! + </p> + <p> + “Jacqueline!” called again the silvery voice that had first summoned her; + and a moment after the young girl found herself in the centre of a circle + of grown people, saying good-morning, making curtseys, and kissing the + withered hand of old Madame de Monredon, as she had been taught to do from + infancy. Madame de Monredon was Giselle’s grandmother. Jacqueline had been + instructed to call her “aunt;” but in her heart she called her ‘La Fee + Gyognon’, while Madame d’Argy, pointing to her son, said: “What do you + think, darling, of such a surprise? He is home on leave. We came here the + first place-naturally.” + </p> + <p> + “It was very nice of you. How do you do, Fred?” said Jacqueline, holding + out her hand to a very young man, in a jacket ornamented with gold lace, + who stood twisting his cap in his hand with some embarrassment “It is a + long time since we have seen each other. But it does not seem to me that + you have grown a great deal.” + </p> + <p> + Fred blushed up to the roots of his hair. + </p> + <p> + “No one can say that of you, Jacqueline,” observed Madame d’Argy. + </p> + <p> + “No—what a may-pole!—isn’t she?” said the Baronne, carelessly. + </p> + <p> + “If she realizes it,” whispered Madame de Monredon, who was sitting beside + Madame d’Argy on a ‘causeuse’ shaped like an S, “why does she persist in + dressing her like a child six years old? It is absurd!” + </p> + <p> + “Still, she can have no reason for keeping her thus in order to make + herself seem young. She is only a stepmother.” + </p> + <p> + “Of course. But people might make comparisons. Beauty in the bud sometimes + blooms out unexpectedly when it is not welcome.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes—she is fading fast. Small women ought not to grow stout.” + </p> + <p> + “Anyhow, I have no patience with her for keeping a girl of fifteen in + short skirts.” + </p> + <p> + “You are making her out older than she is.” + </p> + <p> + “How is that?—how is that? She is two years younger than Giselle, + who has just entered her eighteenth year.” + </p> + <p> + While the two ladies were exchanging these little remarks, the Baronne de + Nailles was saying to the young naval cadet: + </p> + <p> + “Monsieur Fred, we should be charmed to keep you with us, but possibly you + might like to see some of your old friends. Jacqueline can take you to + them. They will be glad to see you.” + </p> + <p> + “Tiens!—that’s true,” said Jacqueline. “Dolly and Belle are yonder. + You remember Isabelle Ray, who used to take dancing lessons with us.” + </p> + <p> + “Of course I do,” said Fred, following his cousin with a feeling of regret + that his sword was not knocking against his legs, increasing his + importance in the eyes of all the ladies who were present. He was not, + however; sorry to leave their imposing circle. Above all, he was glad to + escape from the clear-sighted, critical eyes of Madame de Nailles. On the + other hand, to be sent off to the girls’ corner, after being insulted by + being told he had not grown, hurt his sense of self-importance. + </p> + <p> + Meantime Jacqueline was taking him back to her own corner, where he was + greeted by two or three little exclamations of surprise, shaking hands, + however, as his former playmates drew their skirts around them, trying to + make room for him to sit down. + </p> + <p> + “Young ladies,” said Jacqueline, “I present to you a ‘bordachien’—a + little middy from the practice-ship the Borda.” + </p> + <p> + They burst out laughing: “A bordachien! A middy from the practice-ship!” + they cried. + </p> + <p> + “I shall not be much longer on the practice-ship,” said the young man, + with a gesture which seemed as if his hand were feeling for the hilt of + his sword, which was not there, “for I am going very soon on my first + voyage as an ensign.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” explained Jacqueline, “he is going to be transferred from the + ‘Borda’ to the ‘Jean-Bart’—which, by the way, is no longer the + ‘Jean-Bart’, only people call her so because they are used to it. Meantime + you see before you “C,” the great “C,” the famous “C,” that is, he is the + pupil who stands highest on the roll of the naval school at this moment.” + </p> + <p> + There was a vague murmur of applause. Poor Fred was indeed in need of some + appreciation on the score of merit, for he was not much to look upon, + being at that trying age when a young fellow’s moustache is only a light + down, an age at which youths always look their worst, and are awkward and + unsociable because they are timid. + </p> + <p> + “Then you are no longer an idle fellow,” said Dolly, rather teasingly. + “People used to say that you went into the navy to get rid of your + lessons. That I can quite understand.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, he has passed many difficult exams,” cried Giselle, coming to the + rescue. + </p> + <p> + “I thought I had had enough of school,” said Fred, without making any + defense, “and besides I had other reasons for going into the navy.” + </p> + <p> + His “other reasons” had been a wish to emancipate himself from the + excessive solicitude of his mother, who kept him tied to her apron-strings + like a little girl. He was impatient to do something for himself, to + become a man as soon as possible. But he said nothing of all this, and to + escape further questions devoured three or four little cakes that were + offered him. Before taking them he removed his gloves and displayed a pair + of chapped and horny hands. + </p> + <p> + “Why—poor Fred!” cried Jacqueline, who remarked them in a moment, + “what kind of almond paste do you use?” + </p> + <p> + Much annoyed, he replied, curtly: “We all have to row, we have also to + attend to the machinery. But that is only while we are cadets. Of course, + such apprenticeship is very hard. After that we shall get our stripes and + be ordered on foreign service, and expect promotion.” + </p> + <p> + “And glory,” said Giselle, who found courage to speak. + </p> + <p> + Fred thanked her with a look of gratitude. She, at least, understood his + profession. She entered into his feelings far better than Jacqueline, who + had been his first confidante—Jacqueline, to whom he had confided + his purposes, his ambition, and his day-dreams. He thought Jacqueline was + selfish. She seemed to care only for herself. And yet, selfish or not + selfish, she pleased him better than all the other girls he knew—a + thousand times more than gentle, sweet Giselle. + </p> + <p> + “Ah, glory, of course!” repeated Jacqueline. “I understand how much that + counts, but there is glory of various kinds, and I know the kind that I + prefer,” she added in a tone which seemed to imply that it was not that of + arms, or of perilous navigation. “We all know,” she went on, “that not + every man can have genius, but any sailor who has good luck can get to be + an admiral.” + </p> + <p> + “Let us hope you will be one soon, Monsieur Fred,” said Dolly. “You will + have well deserved it, according to the way you have distinguished + yourself on board the ‘Borda.’” + </p> + <p> + This induced Fred to let them understand something of life on board the + practice-ship; he told how the masters who resided on shore ascended by a + ladder to the gun-deck, which had been turned into a schoolroom; how six + cadets occupied the space intended for each gun-carriage, where hammocks + hung from hooks served them instead of beds; how the chapel was in a + closet opened only on Sundays. He described the gymnastic feats in the + rigging, the practice in gunnery, and many other things which, had they + been well described, would have been interesting; but Fred was only a poor + narrator. The conclusion the young ladies seemed to reach unanimously + after hearing his descriptions, was discouraging. They cried almost with + one voice— + </p> + <p> + “Think of any woman being willing to marry a sailor.” + </p> + <p> + “Why not?” asked Giselle, very promptly. + </p> + <p> + “Because, what’s the use of a husband who is always out of your reach, as + it were, between water and sky? One would better be a widow. Widows, at + any rate, can marry again. But you, Giselle, don’t understand these + things. You are going to be a nun.” + </p> + <p> + “Had I been in your place, Fred,” said Isabelle Ray, “I should rather have + gone into the cavalry school at Saint Cyr. I should have wanted to be a + good huntsman, had I been a man, and they say naval officers are never + good horsemen.” + </p> + <p> + Poor Fred! He was not making much progress among the young girls. Almost + everything people talked about outside his cadet life was unknown to him; + what he could talk about seemed to have no interest for any one, unless + indeed it might interest Giselle, who was an adept in the art of + sympathetic listening, never having herself anything to say. + </p> + <p> + Besides this, Fred was by no means at his ease in talking to Jacqueline. + They had been told not to ‘tutoyer’ each other, because they were getting + too old for such familiarity, and it was he, and not she, who remembered + this prohibition. Jacqueline perceived this after a while, and burst out + laughing: + </p> + <p> + “Tiens! You call me ‘you,”’ she cried, “and I ought not to say ‘thou’ but + ‘you.’ I forgot. It seems so odd, when we have always been accustomed to + ‘tutoyer’ each other.” + </p> + <p> + “One ought to give it up after one’s first communion,” said the eldest + Mademoiselle Wermant, sententiously. “We ceased to ‘tutoyer’ our boy + cousins after that. I am told nothing annoys a husband so much as to see + these little familiarities between his wife and her cousins or her + playmates.” + </p> + <p> + Giselle looked very much astonished at this speech, and her air of + disapproval amused Belle and Yvonne exceedingly. They began presently to + talk of the classes in which they were considered brilliant pupils, and of + their success in compositions. They said that sometimes very difficult + subjects were given out. A week or two before, each had had to compose a + letter purporting to be from Dante in exile to a friend in Florence, + describing Paris as it was in his time, especially the manners and customs + of its universities, ending by some allusion to the state of matters + between the Guelphs and the Ghibellines. + </p> + <p> + “Good heavens! And could you do it?” said Giselle, whose knowledge of + history was limited to what may be found in school abridgments. + </p> + <p> + It was therefore a great satisfaction to her when Fred declared that he + never should have known how to set about it. + </p> + <p> + “Oh! papa helped me a little,” said Isabelle, whose father wrote articles + much appreciated by the public in the ‘Revue des Deux Mondes.’ “But he + said at the same time that it was horrid to give such crack-brained stuff + to us poor girls. Happily, our subject this week is much nicer. We have to + make comparisons between La Tristesse d’Olympio, Souvenir, and Le Lac’. + That will be something interesting.” + </p> + <p> + “The Tristesse d’Olympio?” repeated Giselle, in a tone of interrogation. + </p> + <p> + “You know, of course, that it is Victor Hugo’s,” said Mademoiselle de + Wermant, with a touch of pity. + </p> + <p> + Giselle answered with sincerity and humility, “I only knew that Le Lac was + by Lamartine.” + </p> + <p> + “Well!—she knows that much,” whispered Belle to Yvonne—“just + that much, anyhow.” + </p> + <p> + While they were whispering and laughing, Jacqueline recited, in a soft + voice, and with feeling that did credit to her instructor in elocution, + Mademoiselle X——, of the Theatre Francais: + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + May the moan of the wind, the green rushes’ soft sighing, + The fragrance that floats in the air you have moved, + May all heard, may all breathed, may all seen, seem but trying + To say: They have loved. +</pre> + <p> + Then she added, after a pause: “Isn’t that beautiful?” + </p> + <p> + “How dares she say such words?” thought Giselle, whose sense of propriety + was outraged by this allusion to love. Fred, too, looked askance and was + not comfortable, for he thought that Jacqueline had too much assurance for + her age, but that, after all, she was becoming more and more charming. + </p> + <p> + At that moment Belle and Yvonne were summoned, and they departed, full of + an intention to spread everywhere the news that Giselle, the little goose, + had actually known that Le Lac had been written by Lamartine. The + Benedictine Sisters positively had acquired that much knowledge. + </p> + <p> + These girls were not the only persons that day at the reception who + indulged in a little ill-natured talk after going away. Mesdames d’Argy + and de Monredon, on their way to the Faubourg St. Germain, criticised + Madame de Nailles pretty freely. As they crossed the Parc Monceau to reach + their carriage, which was waiting for them on the Boulevard Malesherbes, + they made the young people, Giselle and Fred, walk ahead, that they might + have an opportunity of expressing themselves freely, the old dowager + especially, whose toothless mouth never lost an opportunity of smirching + the character and the reputation of her neighbors. + </p> + <p> + “When I think of the pains my poor cousin de Nailles took to impress upon + us all that he was making what is called a ‘mariage raisonnable’! Well, if + a man wants a wife who is going to set up her own notions, her own + customs, he had better marry a poor girl without fortune! This one will + simply ruin him. My dear, I am continually amazed at the way people are + living whose incomes I know to the last sou. What an example for + Jacqueline! Extravagance, fast living, elegant self-indulgence.... Did you + observe the Baronne’s gown?—of rough woolen stuff. She told some one + it was the last creation of Doucet, and you know what that implies! His + serge costs more than one of our velvet gowns.... And then her artistic + tastes, her bric-a brac! Her salon looks like a museum or a bazaar. I + grant you it makes a very pretty setting for her and all her coquetries. + But in my time respectable women were contented with furniture covered + with red or yellow silk damask furnished by their upholsterers. They + didn’t go about trying to hunt up the impossible. ‘On ne cherche pas midi + a quatorze heures’. You hold, as I do, to the old fashions, though you are + not nearly so old, my dear Elise, and Jacqueline’s mother thought as we + think. She would say that her daughter is being very badly brought up. To + be sure, all young creatures nowadays are the same. Parents, on a plea of + tenderness, keep them at home, where they get spoiled among grown people, + when they had much better have the same kind of education that has + succeeded so well with Giselle; bolts on the garden-gates, wholesome + seclusion, the company of girls of their own age, a great regularity of + life, nothing which stimulates either vanity or imagination. That is the + proper way to bring up girls without notions, girls who will let + themselves be married without opposition, and are satisfied with the state + of life to which Providence may be pleased to call them. For my part, I am + enchanted with the ladies in the Rue de Monsieur, and, what is more, + Giselle is very happy among them; to hear her talk you would suppose she + was quite ready to take the veil. Of course, that is a mere passing fancy. + But fancies of that sort are never dangerous, they have nothing in common + with those that are passing nowadays through most girls’ brains. Having ‘a + day!’—what a foolish notion: And then to let little girls take part + in it, even in a corner of the room. I’ll wager that, though her skirts + are half way up her legs, and her hair is dressed like a baby’s, that that + little de Nailles is less of a child than my granddaughter, who has been + brought up by the Benedictines. You say that she probably does not + understand all that goes on around her. Perhaps not, but she breathes it + in. It’s poison-that’s what it is!” + </p> + <p> + There was a good deal of truth in this harsh picture, although it + contained considerable exaggeration. + </p> + <p> + At this moment, when Madame de Monredon was sitting in judgment on the + education given to the little girls brought up in the world, and on the + ruinous extravagance of their young stepmothers, Madame de Nailles and + Jacqueline—their last visitors having departed—were resting + themselves, leaning tenderly against each other, on a sofa. Jacqueline’s + head lay on her mother’s lap. Her mother, without speaking, was stroking + the girl’s dark hair. Jacqueline, too, was silent, but from time to time + she kissed the slender fingers sparkling with rings, as they came within + reach of her lips. + </p> + <p> + When M. de Nailles, about dinner-time, surprised them thus, he said, with + satisfaction, as he had often said before, that it would be hard to find a + home scene more charming, as they sat under the light of a lamp with a + pink shade. + </p> + <p> + That the stepmother and stepdaughter adored each other was beyond a doubt. + And yet, had any one been able to look into their hearts at that moment, + he would have discovered with surprise that each was thinking of something + that she could not confide to the other. + </p> + <p> + Both were thinking of the same person. Madame de Nailles was occupied with + recollections, Jacqueline with hope. She was absorbed in Machiavellian + strategy, how to realize a hope that had been formed that very afternoon. + </p> + <p> + “What are you both thinking of, sitting there so quietly?” said the Baron, + stooping over them and kissing first his wife and then his child. + </p> + <p> + “About nothing,” said the wife, with the most innocent of smiles. + </p> + <p> + “Oh! I am thinking,” said Jacqueline, “of many things. I have a secret, + papa, that I want to tell you when we are quite alone. Don’t be jealous, + dear mamma. It is something about a surprise—Oh, a lovely surprise + for you.” + </p> + <p> + “Saint Clotilde’s day-my fete-day is still far off,” said Madame de + Nailles, refastening, mother-like, the ribbon that was intended to keep in + order the rough ripples of Jacqueline’s unruly hair, “and usually your + whisperings begin as the day approaches my fete.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, dear!—you will go and guess it!” cried Jacqueline in alarm. + “Oh! don’t guess it, please.” + </p> + <p> + “Well! I will do my best not to guess, then,” said the good-natured + Clotilde, with a laugh. + </p> + <p> + “And I assure you, for my part, that I am discretion itself,” said M. de + Nailles. + </p> + <p> + So saying, he drew his wife’s arm within his own, and the three passed + gayly together into the dining-room. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0002" id="link2HCH0002"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER II. A CLEVER STEPMOTHER + </h2> + <p> + No man took more pleasure than M. de Nailles in finding himself in his own + home—partly, perhaps, because circumstances compelled him to be very + little there. The post of deputy in the French Chamber is no sinecure. He + was not often an orator from the tribune, but he was absorbed by work in + the committees—“Harnessed to a lot of bothering reports,” as + Jacqueline used to say to him. He had barely any time to give to those + important duties of his position, by which, as is well known, members of + the Corps Legislatif are shamelessly harassed by constituents, who, on + pretence that they have helped to place the interests of their district in + your hands, feel authorized to worry you with personal matters, such as + the choice of agricultural machines, or a place to be found for a + wet-nurse. + </p> + <p> + Besides his public duties, M. de Nailles was occupied by financial + speculations—operations that were no doubt made necessary by the + style of living commented on by his cousin, Madame de Monredon, who was as + stingy as she was bitter of tongue. The elegance that she found fault with + was, however, very far from being great when compared with the luxury of + the present day. Of course, the Baronne had to have her horses, her + opera-box, her fashionable frocks. To supply these very moderate needs, + which, however, she never insisted upon, being, so far as words went, most + simple in her tastes, M. de Nailles, who had not the temperament which + makes men find pleasure in hard work, became more and more fatigued. His + days were passed in the Chamber, but he never neglected his interest on + the Bourse; in the evening he accompanied his young wife into society, + which, she always declared, she did not care for, but which had claims + upon her nevertheless. It was therefore not surprising that M. de + Nailles’s face showed traces of the habitual fatigue that was fast aging + him; his tall, thin form had acquired a slight stoop; though only fifty he + was evidently in his declining years. He had once been a man of pleasure, + it was said, before he entered politics. He had married his first wife + late in life. She was a prudent woman who feared to expose him to + temptation, and had kept him as far as possible away from Paris. + </p> + <p> + In the country, having nothing to do, he became interested in agriculture, + and in looking after his estate at Grandchaux. He had been made a member + of the Conseil General, when unfortunately death too early deprived him of + the wise and gentle counsellor for whom he felt, possibly not a very + lively love, but certainly a high esteem and affection. After he be came a + widower he met in the Pyrenees, where, as he was whiling away the time of + seclusion proper after his loss, a young lady who appeared to him exactly + the person he needed to bring up his little daughter—because she was + extremely attractive to himself. Of course M. de Nailles found plenty of + other reasons for his choice, which he gave to the world and to himself to + justify his second marriage—but this was the true reason and the + only one. His friends, however, all of whom had urged on him the + desirability of taking another wife, in consideration of the age of + Jacqueline, raised many objections as soon as he announced his intention + of espousing Mademoiselle Clotilde Hecker, eldest daughter of a man who + had been, at one time, a prefect under the Empire, but who had been turned + out of office by the Republican Government. He had a large family and many + debts; but M. de Nailles had some answer always ready for the objections + of his family and friends. He was convinced that Mademoiselle Hecker, + having no fortune, would be less exacting than other women and more + disposed to lead a quiet life. + </p> + <p> + She had been almost a mother to her own young brothers and sisters, which + was a pledge for motherliness toward Jacqueline, etc., etc. Nevertheless, + had she not had eyes as blue as those of the beauties painted by Greuze, + plenty of audacious wit, and a delicate complexion, due to her Alsatian + origin—had she not possessed a slender waist and a lovely figure, he + might have asked himself why a young lady who, in winter, studied painting + with the commendable intention of making her own living by art, passed the + summers at all the watering-places of France and those of neighboring + countries, without any perceptible motive. + </p> + <p> + But, thanks to the bandage love ties over the eyes of men, he saw only + what Mademoiselle Clotilde was willing that he should see. In the first + place he saw the great desirability of a talent for painting which, unlike + music—so often dangerous to married happiness—gives women who + cultivate it sedentary interests. And then he was attracted by the model + daughter’s filial piety as he beheld her taking care of her mother, who + was the victim of an incurable disorder, which required her by turns to + reside at Cauterets, or sometimes at Ems, sometimes at Aix in Savoy, and + sometimes even at Trouville. The poor girl had assured him that she asked + no happier lot than to live eight months of the year in the country, where + she would devote herself to teaching Jacqueline, for whom at first sight + she had taken a violent fancy (the attraction indeed was mutual). She + assured him she would teach her all she knew herself, and her diplomas + proved how well educated she had been. + </p> + <p> + Indeed, it seemed as if only prejudice could find any objection to so + prudent and reasonable a marriage, a marriage contracted principally for + the good of Jacqueline. + </p> + <p> + It came to pass, however, that the air of Grandchaux, which is situated in + the most unhealthful part of Limouzin, proved particularly hurtful to the + new Madame de Nailles. She could not live a month on her husband’s + property without falling into a state of health which she attributed to + malaria. M. de Nailles was at first much concerned about the condition of + things which seemed likely to upset all his plans for retirement in the + country, but, his wife having persuaded him that his position in the + Conseil General was only a stepping-stone to a seat in the Corps + Legislatif, where his place ought to be, he presented himself to the + electors as a candidate, and was almost unanimously elected deputy, the + conservative vote being still all powerful in that part of the country. + </p> + <p> + His wife, it was said, had shown rare zeal and activity at the time of the + election, employing in her husband’s service all those little arts which + enable her sex to succeed in politics, as well as in everything else they + set their minds to. No lady ever more completely turned the heads of + country electors. It was really Madame de Nailles who took her seat in the + Left Centre of the Chamber, in the person of her husband. + </p> + <p> + After that she returned to Limouzin only long enough to keep up her + popularity, though, with touching resignation, she frequently offered to + spend the summer at Grandchaux, even if the consequences should be her + death, like that of Pia in the Maremma. Her husband, of course, + peremptorily set his face against such self-sacrifice. + </p> + <p> + The facilities for Jacqueline’s education were increased by their settling + down as residents of Paris. Madame de Nailles superintended the + instruction of her stepdaughter with motherly solicitude, seconded, + however, by a ‘promeneuse’, or walking-governess, which left her free to + fulfil her own engagements in the afternoons. The walking-governess is a + singular modern institution, intended to supply the place of the too often + inconvenient daily governess of former times. The necessary qualifications + of such a person are that she should have sturdy legs, and such knowledge + of some foreign language as will enable her during their walks to converse + in it with her pupil. Fraulein Schult, who came from one of the German + cantons of Switzerland, was an ideal ‘promeneuse’. She never was tired and + she was well-informed. The number of things that could be learned from her + during a walk was absolutely incredible. + </p> + <p> + Madame de Nailles, therefore, after a time, gave up to her, not without + apparent regret, the duty of accompanying Jacqueline, while she herself + fulfilled those duties to society which the most devoted of mothers can + not wholly avoid; but the stepmother and stepdaughter were always to be + seen together at mass at one o’clock; together they attended the Cours + (that system of classes now so much in vogue) and also the weekly + instruction given in the catechism; and if Madame de Nailles, when, at + night, she told her husband all she had been doing for Jacqueline during + the day (she never made any merit of her zeal for the child’s welfare), + added: “I left Jacqueline in this place or in that, where Mademoiselle + Schult was to call for her,” M. de Nailles showed no disposition to ask + questions, for he well understood that his wife felt a certain delicacy in + telling him that she had been to pay a brief visit to her own relatives, + who, she knew, were distasteful to him. He had, indeed, very soon + discerned in them a love of intrigue, a desire to get the most they could + out of him, and a disagreeable propensity to parasitism. With the + consummate tact she showed in everything she did, Madame de Nailles kept + her own family in the background, though she never neglected them. She was + always doing them little services, but she knew well that there were + certain things about them that could not but be disagreeable to her + husband. M. de Nailles knew all this, too, and respected his wife’s + affection for her family. He seldom asked her where she had been during + the day. If he had she would have answered, with a sigh: “I went to see my + mother while Jacqueline was taking her dancing-lesson, and before she went + to her singing-master.” + </p> + <p> + That she was passionately attached to Jacqueline was proved by the + affection the little girl conceived for her. “We two are friends,” both + mother and daughter often said of each other. Even Modeste, old Modeste, + who had been at first indignant at seeing a stranger take the place of her + dead mistress, could not but acknowledge that the usurper was no ordinary + step mother. It might have been truly said that Madame de Nailles had + never scolded Jacqueline, and that Jacqueline had never done anything + contrary to the wishes of Madame de Nailles. When anything went wrong it + was Fraulein Schult who was reproached first; if there was any difficulty + in the management of Jacqueline, she alone received complaints. In the + eyes of the “two friends,” Fraulein Schult was somehow to be blamed for + everything that went wrong in the family, but between themselves an + observer might have watched in vain for the smallest cloud. Madame de + Nailles, when she was first married, could not make enough of the very + ugly yet attractive little girl, whose tight black curls and gypsy face + made an admirable contrast to her own more delicate style of beauty, which + was that of a blonde. She caressed Jacqueline, she dressed her up, she + took her about with her like a little dog, and overwhelmed her with + demonstrations of affection, which served not only to show off her own + graceful attitudes, but gave spectators a high opinion of her kindness of + heart. + </p> + <p> + When from time to time some one, envious of her happiness, pitied her for + being childless, Madame de Nailles would say: “What do you mean? I have + one daughter; she is enough for me.” + </p> + <p> + It is a pity children grow so fast, and that little girls who were once + ugly sometimes develop into beautiful young women. The time came when the + model stepmother began to wish that Jacqueline would only develop morally, + intellectually, and not physically. But she showed nothing of this in her + behavior, and replied to any compliments addressed to her concerning + Jacqueline with as much maternal modesty as if the dawning loveliness of + her stepdaughter had been due to herself. + </p> + <p> + “Her nose is rather too long-don’t you think so? And she will always be + too dark, I fear.” But she used always to add, “She is good enough and + pretty enough to pass muster with any critic—poor little pussy-cat!” + She became desirous to discover some tendency to ill-health in the plant + that was too ready to bloom into beauty and perfection. She would have + liked to be able to assert that Jacqueline’s health would not permit her + to sit up late at night, that fashionable hours would be injurious to her, + that it would be undesirable to let her go into society as long as she + could be kept from doing so. But Jacqueline persisted in never being ill, + and was calculating with impatience how many years it would be before she + could go to her first ball—three or four possibly. Was Madame de + Nailles in three or four years to be reduced to the position of a + chaperon? The young stepmother thought of such a possibility with horror. + Her anxiety on this subject, however, as well as several other anxieties, + was so well concealed that even her husband suspected nothing. + </p> + <p> + The complete sympathy which existed between the two beings he most loved + made M. de Nailles very happy. He had but one thing to complain of in his + wife, and that thing was very small. Since she had married she had + completely given up her painting. He had no knowledge of art himself, and + had therefore given her credit for great artistic capacity. The fact was + that in her days of poverty she had never been artist enough to make a + living, and now that she was rich she felt inclined to laugh at her own + limited ability. Her practice of art, she said, had only served to give + her a knowledge of outline and of color; a knowledge she utilized in her + dress and in the smallest details of house decoration and furniture. + Everything she wore, everything that surrounded her, was arranged to + perfection. She had a genius for decoration, for furniture, for trifles, + and brought her artistic knowledge to bear even on the tying of a ribbon, + or the arrangement of a nosegay. + </p> + <p> + “This is all I retain of your lessons,” she said sometimes to Hubert + Marien, when recalling to his memory the days in which she sought his + advice as to how to prepare herself for the “struggle for life.” + </p> + <p> + This phrase was amusing when it proceeded from her lips. What!—“struggle + for life” with those little delicate, soft, childlike hands? How absurd! + She laughed at the idea now, and all those who heard her laughed with her; + Marien laughed more than any one. He, who had befriended her in her days + of adversity, seemed to retain for the Baroness in her prosperity the same + respectful and discreet devotion he had shown her as Mademoiselle Hecker. + He had sent a wonderful portrait of her, as the wife of M. de Nailles, to + the Salon—a portrait that the richer electors of Grandchaux, who had + voted for her husband and who could afford to travel, gazed at with + satisfaction, congratulating themselves that they had a deputy who had + married so pretty a woman. It even seemed as if the beauty of Madame de + Nailles belonged in some sort to the arrondissement, so proud were those + who lived there of having their share in her charms. + </p> + <p> + Another portrait—that of M. de Nailles himself—was sent down + to Limouzin from Paris, and all the peasants in the country round were + invited to come and look at it. That also produced a very favorable + impression on the rustic public, and added to the popularity of their + deputy. Never had the proprietor of Grandchaux looked so grave, so + dignified, so majestic, so absorbed in deep reflection, as he looked + standing beside a table covered with papers—papers, no doubt, all + having relation to local interests, important to the public and to + individuals. It was the very figure of a statesman destined to high + dignities. No one who gazed on such a deputy could doubt that one day he + would be in the ministry. + </p> + <p> + It was by such real services that Marien endeavored to repay the + friendship and the kindness always awaiting him in the small house in the + Parc Monceau, where we have just seen Jacqueline eagerly offering him some + spiced cakes. To complete what seemed due to the household there only + remained to paint the curiously expressive features of the girl at whom he + had been looking that very day with more than ordinary attention. Once + already, when Jacqueline was hardly out of baby-clothes, the great painter + had made an admirable sketch of her tousled head, a sketch in which she + looked like a little imp of darkness, and this sketch Madame de Nailles + took pains should always be seen, but it bore no resemblance to the + slender young girl who was on the eve of becoming, whatever might be done + to arrest her development, a beautiful young woman. Jacqueline disliked to + look at that picture. It seemed to do her an injury by associating her + with her nursery. Probably that was the reason why she had been so pleased + to hear Hubert Marien say unexpectedly that she was now ready for the + portrait which had been often joked about, every one putting it off to the + period, always remote, when “the may-pole” should have developed a pretty + face and figure. + </p> + <p> + And now she was disquieted lest the idea of taking her picture, which she + felt was very flattering, should remain inoperative in the painter’s + brain. She wanted it carried out at once, as soon as possible. Jacqueline + detested waiting, and for some reason, which she never talked about, the + years that seemed so short and swift to her stepmother seemed to her to be + terribly long. Marien himself had said: “There is a great interval between + a dream and its execution.” These words had thrown cold water on her + sudden joy. She wanted to force him to keep his promise—to paint her + portrait immediately. How to do this was the problem her little head, + reclining on Madame de Nailles’s lap after the departure of their + visitors, had been endeavoring to solve. + </p> + <p> + Should she communicate her wish to her indulgent stepmother, who for the + most part willed whatever she wished her to do? A vague instinct—an + instinct of some mysterious danger—warned her that in this case her + father would be her better confidant. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0003" id="link2HCH0003"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER III. THE FRIEND OF THE FAY + </h2> + <p> + A week later M. de Nailles said to Hubert Marien, as they were smoking + together in the conservatory, after the usual little family dinner on + Wednesday was over: + </p> + <p> + “Well!—when would you like Jacqueline to come to sit for her + picture?” + </p> + <p> + “What! are you thinking about that?” cried the painter, letting his cigar + fall in his astonishment. + </p> + <p> + “She told me that you had proposed to make her portrait.” + </p> + <p> + “The sly little minx!” thought Marien. “I only spoke of painting it some + day,” he said, with embarrassment. + </p> + <p> + “Well! she would like that ‘some day’ to be now, and she has a reason for + wanting it at once, which, I hope, will decide you to gratify her. The + third of June is Sainte-Clotilde’s day, and she has taken it into her head + that she would like to give her mamma a magnificent present—a + present that, of course, we shall unite to give her. For some time past I + have been thinking of asking you to paint a portrait of my daughter,” + continued M. de Nailles, who had in fact had no more wish for the portrait + than he had had to be a deputy, until it had been put into his head. But + the women of his household, little or big, could persuade him into + anything. + </p> + <p> + “I really don’t think I have the time now,” said Marien. + </p> + <p> + “Bah!—you have whole two months before you. What can absorb you so + entirely? I know you have your pictures ready for the Salon.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes—of course—of course—but are you sure that Madame de + Nailles would approve of it?” + </p> + <p> + “She will approve whatever I sanction,” said M. de Nailles, with as much + assurance as if he had been master in his domestic circle; “besides, we + don’t intend to ask her. It is to be a surprise. Jacqueline is looking + forward to the pleasure it will give her. There is something very touching + to me in the affection of that little thing for—for her mother.” M. + de Nailles usually hesitated a moment before saying that word, as if he + were afraid of transferring something still belonging to his dead wife to + another—that dead wife he so seldom remembered in any other way. He + added, “She is so eager to give her pleasure.” + </p> + <p> + Marien shook his head with an air of uncertainty. + </p> + <p> + “Are you sure that such a portrait would be really acceptable to Madame de + Nailles?” + </p> + <p> + “How can you doubt it?” said the Baron, with much astonishment. “A + portrait of her daughter!—done by a great master? However, of + course, if we are putting you to any inconvenience—if you would + rather not undertake it, you had better say so.” + </p> + <p> + “No—of course I will do it, if you wish it,” said Marien, quickly, + who, although he was anxious to do nothing to displease Madame de Nailles, + was equally desirous to stand well with her husband. “Yet I own that all + the mystery that must attend on what you propose may put me to some + embarrassment. How do you expect Jacqueline will be able to conceal—” + </p> + <p> + “Oh! easily enough. She walks out every day with Mademoiselle Schult. + Well, Mademoiselle Schult will bring her to your studio instead of taking + her to the Champs Elysees—or to walk elsewhere.” + </p> + <p> + “But every day there will be concealments, falsehoods, deceptions. I think + Madame de Nailles might prefer to be asked for her permission.” + </p> + <p> + “Ask for her permission when I have given mine? Ah, fa! my dear Marien, am + I, or am I not, the father, of Jacqueline? I take upon myself the whole + responsibility.” + </p> + <p> + “Then there is nothing more to be said. But do you think that Jacqueline + will keep the secret till the picture is done?” + </p> + <p> + “You don’t know little girls; they are all too glad to have something of + which they can make a mystery.” + </p> + <p> + “When would you like us to begin?” + </p> + <p> + Marien had by this time said to himself that for him to hold out longer + might seem strange to M. de Nailles. Besides, the matter, though in some + respects it gave him cause for anxiety, really excited an interest in him. + For some time past, though he had long known women and knew very little of + mere girls, he had had his suspicions that a drama was being enacted in + Jacqueline’s heart, a drama of which he himself was the hero. He amused + himself by watching it, though he did nothing to promote it. He was an + artist and a keen and penetrating observer; he employed psychology in the + service of his art, and probably to that might have been attributed the + individual character of his portraits—a quality to be found in an + equal degree only in those of Ricard. + </p> + <p> + What particularly interested him at this moment was the assumed + indifference of Jacqueline while her father was conducting the negotiation + which was of her suggestion. When they returned to the salon after smoking + she pretended not to be the least anxious to know the result of their + conversation. She sat sewing near the lamp, giving all her attention to + the piece of lace on which she was working. Her father made her a sign + which meant “He consents,” and then Marien saw that the needle in her + fingers trembled, and a slight color rose in her face—but that was + all. She did not say a word. He could not know that for a week past she + had gone to church every time she took a walk, and had offered a prayer + and a candle that her wish might be granted. How very anxious and excited + she had been all that week! The famous composition of which she had spoken + to Giselle, the subject of which had so astonished the young girl brought + up by the Benedictine nuns, felt the inspiration of her emotion and + excitement. Jacqueline was in a frame of mind which made reading those + three masterpieces by three great poets, and pondering the meaning of + their words, very dangerous. The poems did not affect her with the + melancholy they inspire in those who have “lived and loved,” but she was + attracted by their tenderness and their passion. Certain lines she applied + to herself—certain others to another person. The very word love so + often repeated in the verses sent a thrill through all her frame. She + aspired to taste those “intoxicating moments,” those “swift delights,” + those “sublime ecstasies,” those “divine transports”—all the + beautiful things, in short, of which the poems spoke, and which were as + yet unknown to her. How could she know them? How could she, after an + experience of sorrow, which seemed to her to be itself enviable, retain + such sweet remembrances as the poets described? + </p> + <p> + “Let us love—love each other! Let us hasten to enjoy the passing + hour!” so sang the poet of Le Lac. That passing hour of bliss she thought + she had already enjoyed. She was sure that for a long time past she had + loved. When had that love begun? She hardly knew. But it would last as + long as she might live. One loves but once. + </p> + <p> + These personal emotions, mingling with the literary enchantments of the + poets, caused Jacqueline’s pen to fly over her paper without effort, and + she produced a composition so far superior to anything she usually wrote + that it left the lucubrations of her companions far behind. M. Regis, the + professor, said so to the class. He was enthusiastic about it, and greatly + surprised. Belle, who had been always first in this kind of composition, + was far behind Jacqueline, and was so greatly annoyed at her defeat that + she would not speak to her for a week. On the other hand Colette and + Dolly, who never had aspired to literary triumphs, were moved to tears + when the “Study on the comparative merits of Three Poems, ‘Le Lac,’ + ‘Souvenir,’ and ‘La Tristesse d’Olympio,’” signed “Mademoiselle de + Nailles,” received the honor of being read aloud. This reading was + followed by a murmur of applause, mingled with some hisses which may have + proceeded from the viper of jealousy. But the paper made a sensation like + that of some new scandal. Mothers and governesses whispered together. Many + thought that that little de Nailles had expressed sentiments not proper at + her age. Some came to the conclusion that M. Regis chose subjects for + composition not suited to young girls. A committee waited on the unlucky + professor to beg him to be more prudent for the future. He even lost, in + consequence of Jacqueline’s success, one of his pupils (the most stupid + one, be it said, in the class), whose mother took her away, saying, with + indignation, “One might as well risk the things they are teaching at the + Sorbonne!” + </p> + <p> + This literary incident greatly alarmed Madame de Nailles! Of all things + she dreaded that her daughter should early become dreamy and romantic. But + on this point Jacqueline’s behavior was calculated to reassure her. She + laughed about her composition, she frolicked like a six-year-old child; + without any apparent cause, she grew gayer and gayer as the time + approached for the execution of her plot. + </p> + <p> + The evening before the day fixed on for the first sitting, Modeste, the + elderly maid of the first Madame de Nailles, who loved her daughter, whom + she had known from the moment of her birth, as if she had been her own + foster-child, arrived at the studio of Hubert Marien in the Rue de Prony, + bearing a box which she said contained all that would be wanted by + Mademoiselle. Marien had the curiosity to look into it. It contained a + robe of oriental muslin, light as air, diaphanous—and so dazzlingly + white that he remarked: + </p> + <p> + “She will look like a fly in milk in that thing.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh!” replied Modeste, with a laugh of satisfaction, “it is very becoming + to her. I altered it to fit her, for it is one of Madame’s dresses. + Mademoiselle has nothing but short skirts, and she wanted to be painted as + a young lady.” + </p> + <p> + “With the approval of her papa?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, of course, Monsieur, Monsieur le Baron gave his consent. But for + that I certainly should not have minded what the child said to me.” + </p> + <p> + “Then,” replied Marien, “I can say nothing,” and he made ready for his + sitter the next day, by turning two or three studies of the nude, which + might have shocked her, with their faces to the wall. + </p> + <p> + A foreign language can not be properly acquired unless the learner has + great opportunities for conversation. It therefore became a fixed habit + with Fraulein Schult and Jacqueline to keep up a lively stream of talk + during their walks, and their discourse was not always about the rain, the + fine weather, the things displayed in the shop-windows, nor the historical + monuments of Paris, which they visited conscientiously. + </p> + <p> + What is near the heart is sure to come eventually to the surface in + continual tete-a-tete intercourse. Fraulein Schult, who was of a + sentimental temperament, in spite of her outward resemblance to a + grenadier, was very willing to allow her companion to draw from her + confessions relating to an intended husband, who was awaiting her at + Berne, and whose letters, both in prose and verse, were her comfort in her + exile. This future husband was an apothecary, and the idea that he pounded + out verses as he pounded his drugs in a mortar, and rolled out rhymes with + his pills, sometimes inclined Jacqueline to laugh, but she listened + patiently to the plaintive outpourings of her ‘promeneuse’, because she + wished to acquire a right to reciprocate by a few half-confidences of her + own. In her turn, therefore, she confided to Fraulein Schult—moved + much as Midas had been, when for his own relief he whispered to the reeds—that + if she were sometimes idle, inattentive, “away off in the moon,” as her + instructors told her by way of reproach, it was caused by one ever-present + idea, which, ever since she had been able to think or feel, had taken + possession of her inmost being—the idea of being loved some day by + somebody as she herself loved. + </p> + <p> + “Was that somebody a boy of her own age?” + </p> + <p> + Oh, fie!—mere boys—still schoolboys—could only be looked + upon as playfellows or comrades. Of course she considered Fred—Fred, + for example!—Frederic d’Argy—as a brother, but how different + he was from her ideal. Even young men of fashion—she had seen some + of them on Tuesdays—Raoul Wermant, the one who so distinguished + himself as a leader in the ‘german’, or Yvonne’s brother, the officer of + chasseurs, who had gained the prize for horsemanship, and others besides + these—seemed to her very commonplace by comparison. No!—he + whom she loved was a man in the prime of life, well known to fame. She + didn’t care if he had a few white hairs. + </p> + <p> + “Is he a person of rank?” asked Fraulein Schult, much puzzled. + </p> + <p> + “Oh! if you mean of noble birth, no, not at all. But fame is so superior + to birth! There are more ways than one of acquiring an illustrious name, + and the name that a man makes for himself is the noblest of all!” + </p> + <p> + Then Jacqueline begged Fraulein Schult to imagine something like the + passion of Bettina for Goethe—Fraulein Schult having told her that + story simply with a view of interesting her in German conversation only + the great man whose name she would not tell was not nearly so old as + Goethe, and she herself was much less childish than Bettina. But, above + all, it was his genius that attracted her—though his face, too, was + very pleasing. And she went on to describe his appearance—till + suddenly she stopped, burning with indignation; for she perceived that, + notwithstanding the minuteness of her description, what she said was + conveying an idea of ugliness and not one of the manly beauty she intended + to portray. + </p> + <p> + “He is not like that at all,” she cried. “He has such a beautiful smile-a + smile like no other I ever saw. And his talk is so amusing—and—” + here Jacqueline lowered her voice as if afraid to be overheard, “and I do + think—I think, after all, he does love me—just a little.” + </p> + <p> + On what could she have founded such a notion? Good heaven!—it was on + something that had at first deeply grieved her, a sudden coldness and + reserve that had come over his manner to her. Not long before she had read + an English novel (no others were allowed to come into her hands). It was + rather a stupid book, with many tedious passages, but in it she was told + how the high-minded hero, not being able, for grave reasons, to aspire to + the hand of the heroine, had taken refuge in an icy coldness, much as it + cost him, and as soon as possible had gone away. English novels are + nothing if not moral. + </p> + <p> + This story, not otherwise interesting, threw a gleam of light on what, up + to that time, had been inexplicable to Jacqueline. He was above all things + a man of honor. He must have perceived that his presence troubled her. He + had possibly seen her when she stole a half-burned cigarette which he had + left upon the table, a prize she had laid up with other relics—an + old glove that he had lost, a bunch of violets he had gathered for her in + the country. Yes! When she came to think of it, she felt certain he must + have seen her furtively lay her hand upon that cigarette; that cigarette + had compromised her. Then it was he must have said to himself that it was + due to her parents, who had always shown him kindness, to surmount an + attachment that could come to nothing—nothing at present. But when + she should be old enough for him to ask her hand, would he dare? Might he + not rashly think himself too old? She must seek out some way to give him + encouragement, to give him to understand that she was not, after all, so + far—so very far from being a young lady—old enough to be + married. How difficult it all was! All the more difficult because she was + exceedingly afraid of him. + </p> + <p> + It is not surprising that Fraulein Schult, after listening day after day + to such recitals, with all the alternations of hope and of discouragement + which succeeded one another in the mind of her precocious pupil, guessed, + the moment that Jacqueline came to her, in a transport of joy, to ask her + to go with her to the Rue de Prony, that the hero of the mysterious + love-story was no other than Hubert Marien. + </p> + <p> + As soon as she understood this, she perceived that she should be placed in + a very false position. But she thought to herself there was no possible + way of getting out of it, without giving a great deal too much importance + to a very innocent piece of childish folly; she therefore determined to + say nothing about it, but to keep a strict watch in the mean time. After + all, M. de Nailles himself had given her her orders. She was to accompany + Jacqueline, and do her crochet-work in one corner of the studio as long as + the sitting lasted. + </p> + <p> + All she could do was to obey. + </p> + <p> + “And above all not a word to mamma, whatever she may ask you,” said + Jacqueline. + </p> + <p> + And her father added, with a laugh, “Not a word.” Fraulein Schult felt + that she knew what was expected of her. She was naturally compliant, and + above all things she was anxious to get paid for as many hours of her time + as possible—much like the driver of a fiacre, because the more money + she could make the sooner she would be in a position to espouse her + apothecary. + </p> + <p> + When Jacqueline, escorted by her Swiss duenna, penetrated almost furtively + into Marien’s studio, her heart beat as if she had a consciousness of + doing something very wrong. In truth, she had pictured to herself so many + impossible scenes beforehand, had rehearsed the probable questions and + answers in so many strange dialogues, had soothed her fancy with so many + extravagant ideas, that she had at last created, bit by bit, a situation + very different from the reality, and then threw herself into it, body and + soul. + </p> + <p> + The look of the atelier—the first she had ever been in in her life—disappointed + her. She had expected to behold a gorgeous collection of bric-a-brac, + according to accounts she had heard of the studios of several celebrated + masters. That of Marien was remarkable only for its vast dimensions and + its abundance of light. Studies and sketches hung on the walls, were piled + one over another in corners, were scattered about everywhere, attesting + the incessant industry of the artist, whose devotion to his calling was so + great that his own work never satisfied him. + </p> + <p> + Only some interesting casts from antique bronzes, brought out into strong + relief by a background of tapestry, adorned this lofty hall, which had + none of that confusion of decorative objects, in the midst of which some + modern artists seem to pose themselves rather than to labor. + </p> + <p> + A fresh canvas stood upon an easel, all ready for the sitter. + </p> + <p> + “If you please, we will lose no time,” said Marien, rather roughly, seeing + that Jacqueline was about to explore all the corners of his apartment, and + that at that moment, with the tips of her fingers, she was drawing aside + the covering he had cast over his Death of Savonarola, the picture he was + then at work upon. It was not the least of his grudges against Jacqueline + for insisting on having her portrait painted that it obliged him to lay + aside this really great work, that he might paint a likeness. + </p> + <p> + “In ten minutes I shall be ready,” said Jacqueline, obediently taking off + her hat. + </p> + <p> + “Why can’t you stay as you are? That jacket suits you. Let us begin + immediately.” + </p> + <p> + “No, indeed! What a horrid suggestion!” she cried, running up to the box + which was half open. “You’ll see how much better I can look in a moment or + two.” + </p> + <p> + “I put no faith in your fancies about your toilette. I certainly don’t + promise to accept them.” + </p> + <p> + Nevertheless, he left her alone with her Bernese governess, saying: “Call + me when you are ready, I shall be in the next room.” + </p> + <p> + A quarter of an hour, and more, passed, and no signal had been given. + Marien, getting out of patience, knocked on the door. + </p> + <p> + “Have you nearly done beautifying yourself?” he asked, in a tone of irony. + </p> + <p> + “Just done,” replied a low voice, which trembled. + </p> + <p> + He went in, and to the great amusement of Fraulein Schult, who was not too + preoccupied to notice everything, he stood confounded—petrified, as + a man might be by some work of magic. What had become of Jacqueline? What + had she in common with that dazzling vision? Had she been touched by some + fairy’s wand? Or, to accomplish such a transformation, had nothing been + needed but the substitution of a woman’s dress, fitted to her person, for + the short skirts and loose waists cut in a boyish fashion, which had made + the little girl seem hardly to belong to any sex, an indefinite being, + condemned, as it were, to childishness? How tall, and slender, and + graceful she looked in that long gown, the folds of which fell from her + waist in flowing lines, a waist as round and flexible as the branch of a + willow; what elegance there was in her modest corsage, which displayed for + the first time her lovely arms and neck, half afraid of their own + exposure. She still was not robust, but the leanness that she herself had + owned to was not brought into prominence by any bone or angle, her dark + skin was soft and polished, the color of ancient statues which have been + slightly tinted yellow by exposure to the sun. This girl, a Parisienne, + seemed formed on the model of a figurine of Tanagra. Greek, too, was her + small head, crowned only by her usual braid of hair, which she had simply + gathered up so as to show the nape of her neck, which was perhaps the most + beautiful thing in all her beautiful person. + </p> + <p> + “Well!—what do you think of me?” she said to Marien, with a + searching glance to see how she impressed him—a glance strangely + like that of a grown woman. + </p> + <p> + “Well!—I can’t get over it!—Why have you bedizened yourself in + that fashion?” he asked, with an affectation of ‘brusquerie’, as he tried + to recover his power of speech. + </p> + <p> + “Then you don’t like me?” she murmured, in a low voice. Tears came into + her eyes; her lips trembled. + </p> + <p> + “I don’t see Jacqueline.” + </p> + <p> + “No—I should hope not—but I am better than Jacqueline, am I + not?” + </p> + <p> + “I am accustomed to Jacqueline. This new acquaintance disconcerts me. Give + me time to get used to her. But once again let me ask, what possessed you + to disguise yourself?” + </p> + <p> + “I am not disguised. I am disguised when I am forced to wear those things, + which do not suit me,” said Jacqueline, pointing to her gray jacket and + plaid skirt which were hung up on a hat-rack. “Oh, I know why mamma keeps + me like that—she is afraid I should get too fond of dress before I + have finished my education, and that my mind may be diverted from serious + subjects. It is no doubt all intended for my good, but I should not lose + much time if I turned up my hair like this, and what harm could there be + in lengthening my skirts an inch or two? My picture will show her that I + am improved by such little changes, and perhaps it will induce hor to let + me go to the Bal Blanc that Madame d’Etaples is going to give on Yvonne’s + birthday. Mamma declined for me, saying I was not fit to wear a low-necked + corsage, but you see she was mistaken.” + </p> + <p> + “Rather,” said Marien, smiling in spite of himself. + </p> + <p> + “Yes—wasn’t she?” she went on, delighted at his look. “Of course, I + have bones, but they don’t show like the great hollows under the + collar-bones that Dolly shows, for instance—but Dolly looks stouter + than I because her face is so round. Well! Dolly is going to Madame + d’Etaples’s ball.” + </p> + <p> + “I grant,” said Marien, devoting all his attention to the preparation of + his palette, that she might not see him laugh, “I grant that you have + bones—yes, many bones—but they are not much seen because they + are too well placed to be obtrusive.” + </p> + <p> + “I am glad of that,” said Jacqueline, delighted. + </p> + <p> + “But let me ask you one question. Where did you pick up that queer gown? + It seems to me that I have seen it somewhere.” + </p> + <p> + “No doubt you have,” replied Jacqueline, who had quite recovered from her + first shock, and was now ready to talk; “it is the dress mamma had made + some time ago when she acted in a comedy.” + </p> + <p> + “So I thought,” growled Marien, biting his lips. + </p> + <p> + The dress recalled to his mind many personal recollections, and for one + instant he paused. Madame de Nailles, among other talents, possessed that + of amateur acting. On one occasion, several years before, she had asked + his advice concerning what dress she should wear in a little play of + Scribe’s, which was to be given at the house of Madame d’Avrigny—the + house in all Paris most addicted to private theatricals. This reproduction + of a forgotten play, with its characters attired in the costume of the + period in which the play was placed, had had great success, a success due + largely to the excellence of the costumes. In the comic parts the dressing + had been purposely exaggerated, but Madame de Nailles, who played the part + of a great coquette, would not have been dressed in character had she not + tried to make herself as bewitching as possible. + </p> + <p> + Marien had shown her pictures of the beauties of 1840, painted by Dubufe, + and she had decided on a white gauze embroidered with gold, in which, on + that memorable evening, she had captured more than one heart, and which + had had its influence on the life and destiny of Marien. This might have + been seen in the vague glance of indignation with which he now regarded + it. + </p> + <p> + “Never,” he thought, “was it half so pretty when worn by Madame de Nailles + as by her stepdaughter.” + </p> + <p> + Jacqueline meantime went on talking. + </p> + <p> + “You must know—I was rather perplexed what to do—almost all + mamma’s gowns made me look horribly too old. Modeste tried them on me one + after another. We burst out laughing, they seemed so absurd. And then we + were afraid mamma might chance to want the one I took. This old thing it + was not likely she would ask for. She had worn it only once, and then put + it away. The gauze is a little yellow from lying by, don’t you think so? + But we asked my father, who said it was all right, that I should look less + dark in it, and that the dress was of no particular date, which was always + an advantage. These Grecian dresses are always in the fashion. Ah! four + years ago mamma was much more slender than she is now. But we have taken + it in—oh! we took it in a great deal under the arms, but we had to + let it down. Would you believe it?—I am taller than mamma—but + you can hardly see the seam, it is concealed by the gold embroidery.” + </p> + <p> + “No matter for that. We shall only take a three-quarters’ length,” said + Marien. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, what a pity! No one will see I have a long skirt on. But I shall be + ‘decolletee’, at any rate. I shall wear a comb. No one would know the + picture for me—nobody!—You yourself hardly knew me—did + you?” + </p> + <p> + “Not at first sight. You are much altered.” + </p> + <p> + “Mamma will be amazed,” said Jacqueline, clasping her hands. “It was a + good idea!” + </p> + <p> + “Amazed, I do not doubt,” said Marien, somewhat anxiously. “But suppose we + take our pose—Stay!—keep just as you are. Your hands before + you, hanging down—so. Your fingers loosely clasped—that’s it. + Turn your head a little. What a lovely neck!—how well her head is + set upon it!” he cried, involuntarily. + </p> + <p> + Jacqueline glanced at Fraulein Schult, who was at the farther end of the + studio, busy with her crochet. “You see,” said the look, “that he has + found out I am pretty—that I am worth something—all the rest + will soon happen.” + </p> + <p> + And, while Marien was sketching in the graceful figure that posed before + him, Jacqueline’s imagination was investing it with the white robe of a + bride. She had a vision of the painter growing more and more resolved to + ask her hand in marriage as the portrait grew beneath his brush; of + course, her father would say at first: “You are mad—you must wait. I + shall not let Jacqueline marry till she is seventeen.” But long + engagements, she had heard, had great delights, though in France they are + not the fashion. At last, after being long entreated, she was sure that M. + and Madame de Nailles would end by giving their consent—they were so + fond of Marien. Standing there, dreaming this dream, which gave her face + an expression of extreme happiness, Jacqueline made a most admirable + model. She had not felt in the least fatigued when Marien at last said to + her, apologetically: “You must be ready to drop—I forgot you were + not made of wood; we will go on to-morrow.” + </p> + <p> + Jacqueline, having put on her gray jacket with as much contempt for it as + Cinderella may have felt for her rags after her successes at the ball, + departed with the delightful sensation of having made a bold first step, + and being eager to make another. + </p> + <p> + Thus it was with all her sittings, though some left her anxious and + unhappy, as for instance when Marien, absorbed in his work, had not + paused, except to say, “Turn your head a little—you are losing the + pose.” Or else, “Now you may rest for today.” + </p> + <p> + On such occasions she would watch him anxiously as he painted swiftly, his + brush making great splashes on the canvas, his dark features wearing a + scowl, his chin on his breast, a deep frown upon his forehead, on which + the hair grew low. It was evident that at such times he had no thought of + pleasing her. Little did she suspect that he was saying to himself: “Fool + that I am!—A man of my age to take pleasure in seeing that little + head filled with follies and fancies of which I am the object. But can one—let + one be ever so old—always act—or think reasonably? You are + mad, Marien! A child of fourteen! Bah!—they make her out to be + fourteen—but she is fifteen—and was not that the age of + Juliet? But, you old graybeard, you are not Romeo!—‘Ma foi’! I am in + a pretty scrape. It ought to teach me not to play with fire at my age.” + </p> + <p> + Those words “at my age” were the refrain to all the reflections of Hubert + Marien. He had seen enough in his relations with women to have no doubt + about Jacqueline’s feelings, of which indeed he had watched the rise and + progress from the time she had first begun to conceive a passion for him, + with a mixture of amusement and conceit. The most cautious of men are not + insensible to flattery, whatever form it may take. To be fallen in love + with by a child was no doubt absurd—a thing to be laughed at—but + Jacqueline seemed no longer a child, since for him she had uncovered her + young shoulders and arranged her dark hair on her head with the effect of + a queenly diadem. Not only had her dawning loveliness been revealed to him + alone, but to him it seemed that he had helped to make her lovely. The + innocent tenderness she felt for him had accomplished this miracle. Why + should he refuse to inhale an incense so pure, so genuine? How could he + help being sensible to its fragrance? Would it not be in his power to put + an end to the whole affair whenever he pleased? But till then might he not + bask in it, as one does in a warm ray of spring sunshine? He put aside, + therefore, all scruples. And when he did this Jacqueline with rapture saw + the painter’s face, no longer with its scowl, but softened by some secret + influence, the lines smoothed from his brow, while the beautiful smile + which had fascinated so many women passed like a ray of light over his + expressive mobile features; then she would once more fancy that he was + making love to her, and indeed he said many things, which, without rousing + in himself any scruples of conscience, or alarming the propriety of + Fraulein Schult, were well calculated to delude a girl who had had no + experience, and who was charmed by the illusions of a love-affair, as she + might have been by a fairy-story. + </p> + <p> + It is true that sometimes, when he fancied he might have gone too far, + Marien would grow sarcastic, or stay silent for a time. But this change of + behavior produced on Jacqueline only the same effect that the caprices of + a coquette produce upon a very young admirer. She grew anxious, she wanted + to find out the reason, and finally found some explanation or excuse for + him that coincided with her fancies. + </p> + <p> + The thing that reassured her in such cases was her picture. If she could + seem to him as beautiful as he had made her look on canvas she was sure + that he must love her. + </p> + <p> + “Is this really I? Are you sure?” she said to Marien with a laugh of + delight. “It seems to me that you have made me too handsome.” + </p> + <p> + “I have hardly done you justice,” he replied. “It is not my fault if you + are more beautiful than seems natural, like the beauties in the keepsakes. + By the way, I hold those English things in horror. What do you say of + them?” + </p> + <p> + Then Jacqueline undertook to defend the keepsake beauties with animation, + declaring that no one but a hopelessly realistic painter would refuse to + do justice to those charming monstrosities. + </p> + <p> + “Good heavens!” thought Marien, “if she is adding a quick wit to her other + charms—that will put the finishing stroke to me.” + </p> + <p> + When the portrait was sufficiently advanced, M. de Nailles came to the + studio to judge of the likeness. He was delighted: “Only, my friend, I + think,” he cried to Marien, endeavoring to soften his one objection to the + picture, “that you have given her a look—how can I put it?—an + expression very charming no doubt, but which is not that of a child of her + age. You know what I mean. It is something tender—intense—profound, + too feminine. It may come to her some day, perhaps—but hitherto + Jacqueline’s expression has been generally that of a merry, mischievous + child.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, papa!” cried the young girl, stung by the insult. + </p> + <p> + “You may possibly be right,” Marien hastened to reply, “it was probably + the fatigue of posing that gave her that expression.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh!” repeated Jacqueline, more shocked than ever. + </p> + <p> + “I can alter it,” said the painter, much amused by her extreme despair. + But Marien thought that Jacqueline had not in the least that precocious + air which her father attributed to her, when standing before him she gave + herself up to thoughts the current of which he followed easily, watching + on her candid face its changes of expression. How could he have painted + her other than she appeared to him? Was what he saw an apparition—or + was it a work of magic? + </p> + <p> + Several times during the sittings M. de Nailles made his appearance in the + studio, and after greatly praising the work, persisted in his objection + that it made Jacqueline too old. But since the painter saw her thus they + must accept his judgment. It was no doubt an effect of the grown-up + costume that she had had a fancy to put on. + </p> + <p> + “After all,” he said to Jacqueline, “it is of not much consequence; you + will grow up to it some of these days. And I pay you my compliments in + advance on your appearance in the future.” + </p> + <p> + She felt like choking with rage. “Oh! is it right,” she thought, “for + parents to persist in keeping a young girl forever in her cradle, so to + speak?” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0004" id="link2HCH0004"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER IV. A DANGEROUS MODEL + </h2> + <p> + Time passed too quickly to please Jacqueline. Her portrait was finished at + last, notwithstanding the willingness Marien had shown—or so it + seemed to her—to retouch it unnecessarily that she might again and + again come back to his atelier. But it was done at last. She glided into + that dear atelier for the last time, her heart big with regret, with no + hope that she would ever again put on the fairy robe which had, she + thought, transfigured her till she was no longer little Jacqueline. + </p> + <p> + “I want you only for one moment, and I need only your face,” said Marien. + “I want to change—a line—I hardly know what to call it, at the + corner of your mouth. Your father is right; your mouth is too grave. Think + of something amusing—of the Bal Blanc at Madame d’Etaples, or + merely, if you like, of the satisfaction it will give you to be done with + these everlasting sittings—to be no longer obliged to bear the + burden of a secret, in short to get rid of your portrait-painter.” + </p> + <p> + She made him no answer, not daring to trust her voice. + </p> + <p> + “Come! now, on the contrary you are tightening your lips,” said Marien, + continuing to play with her as a cat plays with a mouse—provided + there ever was a cat who, while playing with its mouse, had no intention + of crunching it. “You are not merry, you are sad. That is not at all + becoming to you.” + </p> + <p> + “Why do you attribute to me your own thoughts? It is you who will be glad + to get rid of all this trouble.” + </p> + <p> + Fraulein Schult, who, while patiently adding stitch after stitch to the + long strip of her crochet-work, was often much amused by the dialogues + between sitter and painter, pricked up her ears to hear what a Frenchman + would say to what was evidently intended to provoke a compliment. + </p> + <p> + “On the contrary, I shall miss you very much,” said Marien, quite simply; + “I have grown accustomed to see you here. You have become one of the + familiar objects of my studio. Your absence will create a void.” + </p> + <p> + “About as much as if this or that were gone,” said Jacqueline, in a hurt + tone, pointing first to a Japanese bronze and then to an Etruscan vase; + “with only this difference, that you care least for the living object.” + </p> + <p> + “You are bitter, Mademoiselle.” + </p> + <p> + “Because you make me such provoking answers, Monsieur. My feeling is + different,” she went on impetuously, “I could pass my whole life watching + you paint.” + </p> + <p> + “You would get tired of it probably in the long run.” + </p> + <p> + “Never!” she cried, blushing a deep red. + </p> + <p> + “And you would have to put up with my pipe—that big pipe yonder—a + horror.” + </p> + <p> + “I should like it,” she cried, with conviction. + </p> + <p> + “But you would not like my bad temper. If you knew how ill I can behave + sometimes! I can scold, I can become unbearable, when this, for example,” + here he pointed with his mahlstick to the Savonarola, “does not please + me.” + </p> + <p> + “But it is beautiful—so beautiful!” + </p> + <p> + “It is detestable. I shall have to go back some day and renew my + impressions of Florence—see once more the Piazze of the Signora and + San Marco—and then I shall begin my picture all over again. Let us + go together—will you?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh!” she cried, fervently, “think of seeing Italy!—and with you!” + </p> + <p> + “It might not be so great a pleasure as you think. Nothing is such a bore + as to travel with people who are pervaded by one idea, and my ‘idee fixe’ + is my picture—my great Dominican. He has taken complete possession + of me—he overshadows me. I can think of nothing but him.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh! but you think of me sometimes, I suppose,” said Jacqueline, softly, + “for I share your time with him.” + </p> + <p> + “I think of you to blame you for taking me away from the fifteenth + century,” replied Hubert Marien, half seriously. “Ouf!—There! it is + done at last. That dimple I never could manage I have got in for better or + for worse. Now you may fly off. I set you at liberty—you poor little + thing!” + </p> + <p> + She seemed in no hurry to profit by his permission. She stood perfectly + still in the middle of the studio. + </p> + <p> + “Do you think I have posed well, faithfully, and with docility all these + weeks?” she asked at last. + </p> + <p> + “I will give you a certificate to that effect, if you like. No one could + have done better.” + </p> + <p> + “And if the certificate is not all I want, will you give me some other + present?” + </p> + <p> + “A beautiful portrait—what can you want more?” + </p> + <p> + “The picture is for mamma. I ask a favor on my own account.” + </p> + <p> + “I refuse it beforehand. But you can tell me what it is, all the same.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, then—the only part of your house that I have ever been in is + this atelier. You can imagine I have a curiosity to see the rest.” + </p> + <p> + “I see! you threaten me with a domiciliary visit without warning. Well! + certainly, if that would give you any amusement. But my house contains + nothing wonderful. I tell you that beforehand.” + </p> + <p> + “One likes to know how one’s friends look at home—in their own + setting, and I have only seen you here at work in your atelier.” + </p> + <p> + “The best point of view, believe me. But I am ready to do your bidding. Do + you wish to see where I eat my dinner?” asked Marien, as he took her down + the staircase leading to his dining-room. + </p> + <p> + Fraulein Schult would have liked to go with them—it was, besides, + her duty. But she had not been asked to fulfil it. She hesitated a moment, + and in that moment Jacqueline had disappeared. After consideration, the + ‘promeneuse’ went on with her crochet, with a shrug of her shoulders which + meant: “She can’t come to much harm.” + </p> + <p> + Seated in the studio, she heard the sound of their voices on the floor + below. Jacqueline was lingering in the fencing-room where Marien was in + the habit of counteracting by athletic exercises the effects of a too + sedentary life. She was amusing herself by fingering the dumb-bells and + the foils; she lingered long before some precious suits of armor. Then she + was taken up into a small room, communicating with the atelier, where + there was a fine collection of drawings by the old masters. “My only + luxury,” said Marien. + </p> + <p> + Mademoiselle Schult, getting impatient, began to roll up yards and yards + of crochet, and coughed, by way of a signal, but remembering how + disagreeable it would have been to herself to be interrupted in a + tete-a-tete with her apothecary, she thought it not worth while to disturb + them in these last moments. M. de Nailles’s orders had been that she was + to sit in the atelier. So she continued to sit there, doing what she had + been told to do without any qualms of conscience. + </p> + <p> + When Marien had shown Jacqueline all his drawings he asked her: “Are you + satisfied?” + </p> + <p> + But Jacqueline’s hand was already on the portiere which separated the + little room from Marien’s bedchamber. + </p> + <p> + “Oh! I beg pardon,” she exclaimed, pausing on the threshold. + </p> + <p> + “One would think you would like to see me asleep,” said Marien with some + little embarrassment. + </p> + <p> + “I never should have thought your bedroom would have been so pretty. Why, + it is as elegant as a lady’s chamber,” said Jacqueline, slipping into it + as she spoke, with an exciting consciousness of doing something she ought + not to do. + </p> + <p> + “What an insult, when I thought all my tastes were simple and severe,” he + replied; but he had not followed her into the chamber, withheld by an + impulse of modesty men sometimes feel, when innocence is led into audacity + through ignorance. + </p> + <p> + “What lovely flowers you have!” said Jacqueline, from within. “Don’t they + make your head ache?” + </p> + <p> + “I take them out at night.” + </p> + <p> + “I did not know that men liked, as we do, to be surrounded by flowers. + Won’t you give me one?” + </p> + <p> + “All, if you like.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh! one pink will be enough for me.” + </p> + <p> + “Then take it,” said Marien; her curiosity alarmed him, and he was anxious + to get her away. + </p> + <p> + “Would it not be nicer if you gave it me yourself?” she replied, with + reproach in her tones. + </p> + <p> + “Here is one, Mademoiselle. And now I must tell you that I want to dress. + I have to go out immediately.” + </p> + <p> + She pinned the pink into her bodice so high that she could inhale its + perfume. + </p> + <p> + “I beg your pardon. Thank you, and good-by,” she said, extending her hand + to him with a sigh. + </p> + <p> + “Au revoir.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes—‘au revoir’ at home—but that will not be like here.” + </p> + <p> + As she stood there before him there came into her eyes a strange + expression, to which, without exactly knowing why, he replied by pressing + his lips fervently on the little hand he was still holding in his own. + </p> + <p> + Very often since her infancy he had kissed her before witnesses, but this + time she gave a little cry, and turned as white as the flower whose petals + were touching her cheek. + </p> + <p> + Marien started back alarmed. + </p> + <p> + “Good-by,” he said in a tone that he endeavored to make careless—but + in vain. + </p> + <p> + Though she was much agitated herself she failed not to remark his emotion, + and on the threshold of the atelier, she blew a kiss back to him from the + tips of her gloved fingers, without speaking or smiling. Then she went + back to Fraulein Schult, who was still sitting in the place where she had + left her, and said: “Let us go.” + </p> + <p> + The next time Madame de Nailles saw her stepdaughter she was dazzled by a + radiant look in her young face. + </p> + <p> + “What has happened to you?” she asked, “you look triumphant.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes—I have good reason to triumph,” said Jacqueline. “I think that + I have won a victory.” + </p> + <p> + “How so? Over yourself?” + </p> + <p> + “No, indeed—victories over one’s self give us the comfort of a good + conscience, but they do not make us gay—as I am.” + </p> + <p> + “Then tell me—” + </p> + <p> + “No-no! I can not tell you yet. I must be silent two days more,” said + Jacqueline, throwing herself into her mother’s arms. + </p> + <p> + Madame de Nailles asked no more questions, but she looked at her + stepdaughter with an air of great surprise. For some weeks past she had + had no pleasure in looking at Jacqueline. She began to be aware that near + her, at her side, an exquisite butterfly was about for the first time to + spread its wings—wings of a radiant loveliness, which, when they + fluttered in the air, would turn all eyes away from other butterflies, + which had lost some of their freshness during the summer. + </p> + <p> + A difficult task was before her. How could she keep this too precocious + insect in its chrysalis state? How could she shut it up in its dark cocoon + and retard its transformation? + </p> + <p> + “Jacqueline,” she said, and the tones of her voice were less soft than + those in which she usually addressed her, “it seems to me that you are + wasting your time a great deal. You hardly practise at all; you do almost + nothing at the ‘cours’. I don’t know what can be distracting your + attention from your lessons, but I have received complaints which should + make a great girl like you ashamed of herself. Do you know what I am + beginning to think?—That Madame de Monredon’s system of education + has done better than mine.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh! mamma, you can’t be thinking of sending me to a convent!” cried + Jacqueline, in tones of comic despair. + </p> + <p> + “I did not say that—but I really think it might be good for you to + make a retreat where your cousin Giselle is, instead of plunging into + follies which interrupt your progress.” + </p> + <p> + “Do you call Madame d’Etaples’s ‘bal blanc’ a folly?” + </p> + <p> + “You certainly will not go to it—that is settled,” said the young + stepmother, dryly. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0005" id="link2HCH0005"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER V. SURPRISES + </h2> + <p> + In all other ways Madame de Nailles did her best to assist in the success + of the surprise. On the second of June, the eve of Ste.-Clotilde’s day, + she went out, leaving every opportunity for the grand plot to mature. Had + she not absented herself in like manner the year before at the same date—thus + enabling an upholsterer to drape artistically her little salon with + beautiful thick silk tapestries which had just been imported from the + East? Her idea was that this year she might find a certain lacquered + screen which she coveted. The Baroness belonged to her period; she liked + Japanese things. But, alas! the charming object that awaited her, with a + curtain hung over it to prolong the suspense, had nothing Japanese about + it whatever. Madame de Nailles received the good wishes of her family, + responded to them with all proper cordiality, and then was dragged up + joyously to a picture hanging on the wall of her room, but still concealed + under the cloth that covered it. + </p> + <p> + “How good of you!” she said, with all confidence to her husband. + </p> + <p> + “It is a picture by Marien!—A portrait by Marien! A likeness of + Jacqueline!” + </p> + <p> + And he uncovered the masterpiece of the great artist, expecting to be + joyous in the joy with which she would receive it. But something strange + occurred. Madame de Nailles sprang back a step or two, stretching out her + arms as if repelling an apparition, her face was distorted, her head was + turned away; then she dropped into the nearest seat and burst into tears. + </p> + <p> + “Mamma!—dear little mamma!—what is it?” cried Jacqueline, + springing forward to kiss her. + </p> + <p> + Madame de Nailles disengaged herself angrily from her embrace. + </p> + <p> + “Let me alone!” she cried, “let me alone!—How dared you?” + </p> + <p> + And impetuously, hardly restraining a gesture of horror and hate, she + rushed into her own chamber. Thither her husband followed her, anxious and + bewildered, and there he witnessed a nervous attack which ended in a + torrent of reproaches: + </p> + <p> + Was it possible that he had, not seen the impropriety of those sittings to + Marien? Oh, yes! No doubt he was an old friend of the family, but that did + not prevent all these deceptions, all these disguises, and all the other + follies which he had sanctioned—he—Jacqueline’s father!—from + being very improper. Did he wish to take from her all authority over his + child?—a girl who was already too much disposed to emancipate + herself. Her own efforts had all been directed to curb this alarming + propensity—yes, alarming—alarming for the future. And all in + vain! There was no use in saying more. ‘Mon Dieu’! had he no trust in her + devotion to his child, in her prudence and her foresight, that he must + thwart her thus? And she had always imagined that for ten years she had + faithfully fulfilled a mother’s duties! What ingratitude from every one! + Mademoiselle Schult should be sent away at once. Jacqueline should go to a + convent. They would break off all intercourse with Marien. They had + conspired against her—every one. + </p> + <p> + And then she wept more bitterly than ever—tears of rage, salt tears + which rubbed the powder off her cheeks and disfigured the face that had + remained beautiful by her power of will and self-control. But now the + disorder of her nerves got the better of precautions. The blonde angel, + whose beauty was on the wane, was transformed into a fury. Her + six-and-thirty years were fully apparent, her complexion appeared slightly + blotched, all her defects were obtrusive in contrast with the precocious + development of beauty in Jacqueline. She was firmly resolved that her + stepdaughter’s obtrusive womanhood should remain in obscurity a very much + longer time, under pretence that Jacqueline was still a child. She was a + child, at any rate! The portrait was a lie! an imposture! an affront! an + outrage! + </p> + <p> + Meantime M. de Nailles, almost beside himself, fancied at first that his + wife was going mad, but in the midst of her sobs and reproaches he managed + to discover that he had somehow done her wrong, and when, with a broken + voice, she cried, “You no longer love me!” he did not know what to do to + prove how bitterly he repented having grieved her. He stammered, he made + excuses, he owned that he had been to blame, that he had been very stupid, + and he begged her pardon. As to the portrait, it should be taken from the + salon, where, if seen, it might become a pretext for foolish compliments + to Jacqueline. Why not send it at once to Grandchaux? In short, he would + do anything she wished, provided she would leave off crying. + </p> + <p> + But Madame de Nailles continued to weep. Her husband was forced at last to + leave her and to return to Jacqueline, who stood petrified in the salon. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” he said, “your mamma is right. We have made a deplorable mistake in + what we have done. Besides, you must know that this unlucky picture is not + in the least like you. Marien has made some use of your features to paint + a fancy portrait—so we will let nobody see it. They might laugh at + you.” + </p> + <p> + In this way he hoped to repair the evil he had done in flattering his + daughter’s vanity, and promoting that dangerous spirit of independence, + denounced to him a few minutes before, but of which, up to that time, he + had never heard. + </p> + <p> + Jacqueline, in her turn, began to sob. + </p> + <p> + Mademoiselle Schult had cause, too, to wipe her eyes, pretending a more or + less sincere repentance for her share in the deception. Vigorously + cross-questioned by Madame de Nailles, who called upon her to tell all she + knew, under pain of being dismissed immediately, she saw but one way of + retaining her situation, which was to deliver up Jacqueline, bound hand + and foot, to the anger of her stepmother, by telling all she knew of the + childish romance of which she had been the confidante. As a reward she was + permitted (as she had foreseen) to retain her place in the character of a + spy. + </p> + <p> + It was a sad Ste.-Clotilde’s day that year. Marien, who came in the + evening, heard with surprise that the Baroness was indisposed and could + see no one. For twelve days after this he continued in disgrace, being + refused admittance when he called. Those twelve days were days of anguish + for Jacqueline. To see Marien no longer, to be treated with coldness by + her father, to see in the blue eyes of her stepmother—eyes so soft + and tender when they looked upon her hitherto—only a harsh, + mistrustful glare, almost a look of hatred, was a punishment greater than + she could bear. What had she done to deserve punishment? Of what was she + accused? She spoke of her wretchedness to Fraulein Schult, who, + perfidiously, day after day, drew from her something to report to Madame + de Nailles. That lady was somewhat consoled, while suffering tortures of + jealousy, to know that the girl to whom these sufferings were due was + paying dearly for her fault and was very unhappy. + </p> + <p> + On the twelfth day something occurred which, though it made no noise in + the household, had very serious consequences. The effect it produced on + Jacqueline was decisive and deplorable. The poor child, after going + through all the states of mind endured by those who suffer under unmerited + disgrace—revolt, indignation, sulkiness, silent obstinacy—felt + unable to bear it longer. She resolved to humble herself, hoping that by + so doing the wall of ice that had arisen between her stepmother and + herself might be cast down. By this time she cared less to know of what + fault she was supposed to be guilty than to be taken back into favor as + before. What must she do to obtain forgiveness? Explanations are usually + worthless; besides, none might be granted her. She remembered that when + she was a small child she had obtained immediate oblivion of any fault by + throwing herself impulsively into the arms of her little mamma, and asking + her to forget whatever she had done to displease her, for she had not done + it on purpose. She would do the same thing now. Putting aside all pride + and obstinacy, she would go to this mamma, who, for some days, had seemed + so different. She would smother her in kisses. She might possibly be + repelled at first. She would not mind it. She was sure that in the end she + would be forgiven. + </p> + <p> + No sooner was this resolution formed than she hastened to put it into + execution. It was the time of day when Madame de Nailles was usually + alone. Jacqueline went to her bedchamber, but she was not there, and a + moment after she stood on the threshold of the little salon. There she + stopped short, not quite certain how she should proceed, asking herself + what would be her reception. + </p> + <p> + “How shall I do it?” she thought. “How had I better do it?” + </p> + <p> + “Bah!” she answered these doubts. “It will be very easy. I will go in on + tiptoe, so that she can’t hear me. I will slip behind her chair, and I + will hug her suddenly, so tight, so tenderly, and kiss her till she tells + me that all has been forgiven.” + </p> + <p> + As she thought thus Jacqueline noiselessly opened the door of the salon, + over which, on the inner side, hung a thick plush ‘portiere’. But as she + was about to lift it, the sound of a voice within made her stand + motionless. She recognized the tones of Marien. He was pleading, + imploring, interrupted now and then by the sharp and still angry voice of + her mamma. They were not speaking above their breath, but if she listened + she could hear them, and, without any scruples of conscience, she did + listen intently, anxious to see her way through the dark fog in which, for + twelve days, she had wandered. + </p> + <p> + “I do not go quite so far as that,” said Madame de Nailles, dryly. “It is + enough for me that she produced an illusion of such beauty upon you. Now I + know what to expect—” + </p> + <p> + “That is nonsense,” replied Marien—“mere foolishness. You jealous! + jealous of a baby whom I knew when she wore white pinafores, who has grown + up under my very eyes? But, so far as I am concerned, she exists no + longer. She is not, she never will be in my eyes, a woman. I shall think + of her as playing with her doll, eating sugar-plums, and so on.” + </p> + <p> + Jacqueline grew faint. She shivered and leaned against the door-post. + </p> + <p> + “One would not suppose so, to judge by the picture with which she has + inspired you. You may say what you like, but I know that in all this there + was a set purpose to insult me.” + </p> + <p> + “Clotilde!” + </p> + <p> + “In the first place, on no pretext ought you to have been induced to paint + her portrait.” + </p> + <p> + “Do you think so? Consider, had I refused, the danger of awakening + suspicion? I accepted the commission most unwillingly, much put out by it, + as you may suppose. But you are making too much of an imaginary fault. + Consign the wretched picture to the barn, if you like. We will never say + another word about so foolish a matter. You promise me to forget it, won’t + you?... Dear! you will promise me?” he added, after a pause. + </p> + <p> + Madame de Nailles sighed and replied: “If not she it will be some one + else. I am very unhappy.... I am weak and contemptible....” + </p> + <p> + “Clotilde!” replied Marien, in an accent that went to Jacqueline’s heart + like a knife. + </p> + <p> + She fancied that after this she heard the sound of a kiss, and, with her + cheeks aflame and her head burning, she rushed away. She understood little + of what she had overheard. She only realized that he had given her up, + that he had turned her into ridicule, that he had said “Clotilde!” to her + mother, that he had called her dear—she!—the woman she had so + adored, so venerated, her best friend, her father’s wife, her mother by + adoption! Everything in this world seemed to be giving way under her feet. + The world was full of falsehood and of treason, and life, so bad, so + cruel, was no longer what she had supposed it to be. It had broken its + promise to herself, it had made her bad—bad forever. She loved no + one, she believed in no one. She wished she were dead. + </p> + <p> + How she reached her own room in this state Jacqueline never knew. She was + aware at last of being on her knees beside her bed, with her face hidden + in the bed-clothes. She was biting them to stifle her desire to scream. + Her hands were clenched convulsively. + </p> + <p> + “Mamma!” she cried, “mamma!” + </p> + <p> + Was this a reproach addressed to her she had so long called by that name? + Or was it an appeal, vibrating with remorse, to her real mother, so long + forgotten in favor of this false idol, her rival, her enemy? + </p> + <p> + Undoubtedly, Jacqueline was too innocent, too ignorant to guess the real + truth from what she had overheard. But she had learned enough to be no + longer the pure-minded young girl of a few hours before. It seemed to her + as if a fetid swamp now lay before her, barring her entrance into life. + Vague as her perceptions were, this swamp before her seemed more deep, + more dark, more dreadful from uncertainty, and Jacqueline felt that + thenceforward she could make no step in life without risk of falling into + it. To whom now could she open her heart in confidence—that heart + bleeding and bruised as if it had been trampled one as if some one had + crushed it? The thing that she now knew was not like her own little + personal secrets, such as she had imprudently confided to Fraulein Schult. + The words that she had overheard she could repeat to no one. She must + carry them in her heart, like the barb of an arrow in a secret wound, + where they would fester and grow more painful day by day. + </p> + <p> + “But, above all,” she said at length, rising from her knees, “let me show + proper pride.” + </p> + <p> + She bathed her fevered face in cold water, then she walked up to her + mirror. As she gazed at herself with a strange interest, trying to see + whether the entire change so suddenly accomplished in herself had left its + visible traces on her features, she seemed to see something in her eyes + that spoke of the clairvoyance of despair. She smiled at herself, to see + whether the new Jacqueline could play the part, which—whether she + would or not—was now assigned to her. What a sad smile it was! + </p> + <p> + “I have lost everything,” she said, “I have lost everything!” And she + remembered, as one remembers something in the far-off long ago, how that + very morning, when she awoke, her first thought had been “Shall I see him + to-day?” Each day she passed without seeing him had seemed to her a lost + day, and she had accustomed herself to go to sleep thinking of him, + remembering all he had said to her, and how he had looked at her. Of + course, sometimes she had been unhappy, but what a difference it seemed + between such vague unhappiness and what she now experienced? And then, + when she was sad, she could always find a refuge in that dear mamma—in + that Clotilde whom she vowed she would never kiss again, except with such + kisses as might be necessary to avoid suspicion. Kisses of that kind were + worth nothing. Quite the contrary! Could she kiss her father now without a + pang? Her father! He had gone wholly over to the side of that other in + this affair. She had seen him in one moment turn against herself. No!—no + one was left her!... If she could only lay her head in Modeste’s lap and + be soothed while she crooned her old songs as in the nursery! But, + whatever Marien or any one else might choose to say, she was no longer a + baby. The bitter sense of her isolation arose in her. She could hardly + breathe. Suddenly she pressed her lips upon the glass which reflected her + own image, so sad, so pale, so desolate. She put the pity for herself into + a long, long, fervent kiss, which seemed to say: “Yes, I am all alone—alone + forever.” Then, in a spirit of revenge, she opened what seemed a + safety-valve, preventing her from giving way to any other emotion. + </p> + <p> + She rushed for a little box which she had converted into a sort of + reliquary. She took out of it the half-burned cigarette, the old glove, + the withered violets, and a visiting-card with his name, on which three + unimportant lines had been written. She insulted these keepsakes, she tore + them with her nails, she trampled them underfoot, she reduced them to + fragments; she left nothing whatever of them, except a pile of shreds, + which at last she set fire to. She had a feeling as if she were employed + in executing two great culprits, who deserved cruel tortures at her hands; + and, with them, she slew now and forever the foolish fancy she had called + her love. By a strange association of ideas, the famous composition, so + praised by M. Regis, came back to her memory, and she cried: + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “Je ne veux me souvenir.... me souvenir de rien!” + </pre> + <p> + “If I remember, I shall be more unhappy. All has been a dream. His look + was a dream, his pressure of my hand, his kiss on the last day, all—all—were + dreams. He was making a fool of me when he gave me that pink which is now + in this pile of ashes. He was laughing when he told me I was more + beautiful than was natural. Never have I been—never shall I be in + his eyes—more than the baby he remembers playing with her doll.” + </p> + <p> + And unconsciously, as Jacqueline said these words, she imitated the + careless accent with which she had heard them fall from the lips of the + artist. And she would have again to meet him! If she had had thunder and + lightning at her command, as she had had the match with which she had set + fire to the memorials of her juvenile folly, Marien would have been + annihilated on the spot. She was at that moment a murderess at heart. But + the dinner-bell rang. The young fury gave a last glance at the adornments + of her pretty bedchamber, so elegant, so original—all blue and pink, + with a couch covered with silk embroidered with flowers. She seemed to say + to them all: “Keep my secret. It is a sad one. Be careful: keep it + safely.” The cupids on the clock, the little book-rest on a velvet stand, + the picture of the Virgin that hung over her bed, with rosaries and palms + entwined about it, the photographs of her girl-friends standing on her + writing table in pretty frames of old-fashioned silk-all seemed to see her + depart with a look of sympathy. + </p> + <p> + She went down to the dining-room, resolved to prove that she would not + submit to punishment. The best way to brave Madame de Nailles was, she + thought, to affect great calmness and indifference, aye, even, if she + could, some gayety. But the task before her was more difficult than she + had expected. Apparently, as a proof of reconciliation, Marien had been + kept to dinner. To see him so soon again after his words of outrage was + more than she could bear. For one moment the earth seemed to sink under + her feet; she roused her pride by an heroic effort, and that sustained + her. She exchanged with the artist, as she always did, a friendly + “Good-evening!” and ate her dinner, though it nearly choked her. + </p> + <p> + Madame de Nailles had red eyes; and Jacqueline made the reflection that + women who are thirty-five should never weep. She knew that her face had + not been made ugly by her tears, and this gave her a perverse satisfaction + in the midst of her misery. Of Marien she thought: “He sits there as if he + had been put ‘en penitence’.” No doubt he could not endure scenes, and the + one he had just passed through must have given him the downcast look which + Jacqueline noticed with contempt. + </p> + <p> + What she did not know was that his depression had more than one cause. He + felt—and felt with shame and with discouragement—that the + fetters of a connection which had long since ceased to charm had been + fastened on his wrists tighter than ever; and he thought: “I shall lose + all my energy, I shall lose even my talent! While I wear these chains I + shall see ever before me—ah! tortures of Tantalus!—the vision + of a new love, fresh as the dawn which beckons to me as it passes before + my sight, which lays on me the light touch of a caress, while I am forced + to see it glide away, to let it vanish, disappear forever! And alas! that + is not all. If I have deceived an inexperienced heart by words spoken or + deeds done in a moment of weakness or temptation, can I flatter myself + that I have acted like an honest man?” + </p> + <p> + This is what Marien was really thinking, while Jacqueline looked at him + with an expression she strove to make indifferent, but which he + interpreted, though she knew it not: “You have done me all the harm you + can.” + </p> + <p> + M. de Nailles meantime went on talking, with little response from his wife + or his guest, about some vehement discussion of a new law going on just + then in the Chamber, and he became so interested in his own discourse that + he did not remark the constraint of the others. + </p> + <p> + Marien at last, tired of responding in monosyllables to his remarks, said + abruptly, a short time before dessert was placed upon the table, something + about the probability of his soon going to Italy. + </p> + <p> + “A pilgrimage of art to Florence!” cried the Baron, turning at once from + politics. “That’s good. But wait a little—let it be after the rising + of the Chamber. We will follow your steps. It has been the desire of my + wife’s life—a little jaunt to Italy. Has it not, Clotilde? So we + will all go in September or October. What say you?” + </p> + <p> + “In September or October, whichever suits you,” said Marien, with despair. + </p> + <p> + Not one month of liberty! Why couldn’t they leave him to his Savanarola! + Must he drag about a ball and chain like a galley-slave? + </p> + <p> + Clotilde rewarded M. de Nailles with a smile—the first smile she had + given him since their quarrel about Jacqueline. + </p> + <p> + “My wife has got over her displeasure,” he said to himself, delightedly. + </p> + <p> + Jacqueline, on her part, well remembered the day when Hubert had spoken to + her for the first time of his intended journey, and how he had added, in a + tone which she now knew to be badinage, but which then, alas! she had + believed serious: “Suppose we go together!” + </p> + <p> + And her impulse to shed tears became so great, that when they left the + dinner-table she escaped to her own room, under pretence of a headache. + </p> + <p> + “Yes—you are looking wretchedly,” said her stepmother. And, turning + to M. de Nailles, she added: “Don’t you think, ‘mon ami’, she is as yellow + as a quince!” Marien dared not press the hand which she, who had been his + little friend for years, offered him as usual, but this time with + repugnance. + </p> + <p> + “You are suffering, my poor Jacqueline!” he ventured to say. + </p> + <p> + “Oh! not much,” she answered, with a glance at once haughty and defiant, + “to-morrow I shall be quite well again.” + </p> + <p> + And, saying this, she had the courage to laugh. + </p> + <p> + But she was not quite well the next day; and for many days after she was + forced to stay in bed. The doctor who came to see her talked about “low + fever,” attributed it to too rapid growth, and prescribed sea-bathing for + her that summer. The fever, which was not very severe, was of great + service to Jacqueline. It enabled her to recover in quiet from the effects + of a bitter deception. + </p> + <p> + Madame de Nailles was not sufficiently uneasy about her to be always at + her bedside. Usually the sick girl stayed alone, with her window-curtains + closed, lying there in the soft half-light that was soothing to her + nerves. The silence was broken at intervals by the voice of Modeste, who + would come and offer her her medicine. When Jacqueline had taken it, she + would shut her eyes, and resume, half asleep, her sad reflections. These + were always the same. What could be the tie between her stepmother and + Marien? + </p> + <p> + She tried to recall all the proofs of friendship she had seen pass between + them, but all had taken place openly. Nothing that she could remember + seemed suspicious. So she thought at first, but as she thought more, + lying, feverish, upon her bed, several things, little noticed at the time, + were recalled to her remembrance. They might mean nothing, or they might + mean much. In the latter case, Jacqueline could not understand them very + well. But she knew he had called her “Clotilde,” that he had even dared to + say “thou” to her in private—these were things she knew of her own + knowledge. Her pulse beat quicker as she thought of them; her head burned. + In that studio, where she had passed so many happy hours, had Marien and + her stepmother ever met as lovers? + </p> + <p> + Her stepmother and Marien! She could not understand what it meant. Must + she apply to them a dreadful word that she had picked up in the history + books, where it had been associated with such women as Margaret of + Burgundy, Isabeau of Bavaria, Anne Boleyn, and other princesses of very + evil reputation? She had looked it out in the dictionary, where the + meaning given was: “To be unfaithful to conjugal vows.” Even then she + could not understand precisely the meaning of adultery, and she set + herself to solve it during the long lonely days when she was convalescent. + When she was able to walk from one room to another, she wandered in a + loose dressing-gown, whose long, lank folds showed that she had grown + taller and thinner during her illness, into the room that held the books, + and went boldly up to the bookcase, the key of which had been left in the + lock, for everybody had entire confidence in Jacqueline’s scrupulous + honesty. Never before had she broken a promise; she knew that a + well-brought-up young girl ought to read only such books as were put into + her hands. The idea of taking a volume from those shelves had no more + occurred to her than the idea of taking money out of somebody’s purse; + that is, up to this moment it had not occurred to her to do so; but now + that she had lost all respect for those in authority over her, Jacqueline + considered herself released from any obligation to obey them. She + therefore made use of the first opportunity that presented itself to take + down a novel of George Sand, which she had heard spoken of as a very + dangerous book, not doubting it would throw some light on the subject that + absorbed her. But she shut up the volume in a rage when she found that it + had nothing but excuses to offer for the fall of a married woman. After + that, and guided only by chance, she read a number of other novels, most + of which were of antediluvian date, thus accounting, she supposed, for + their sentiments, which she found old fashioned. We should be wrong, + however, if we supposed that Jacqueline’s crude judgment of these books + had nothing in common with true criticism. Her only object, however, in + reading all this sentimental prose was to discover, as formerly she had + found in poetry, something that applied to her own case; but she soon + discovered that all the sentimental heroines in the so-called bad books + were persons who had had bad husbands; besides, they were either widows or + old women—at least thirty years old! It was astounding! There was + nothing—absolutely nothing—about young girls, except instances + in which they renounced their hopes of happiness. What an injustice! Among + these victims the two that most attracted her sympathy were Madame de + Camors and Renee Mauperin. But what horrors surrounded them! What a varied + assortment of deceptions, treacheries, and mysteries, lay hidden under the + outward decency and respectability of what men called “the world!” Her + young head became a stage on which strange plays were acted. What one + reads is good or bad for us, according to the frame of mind in which we + read it—according as we discover in a volume healing for the + sickness of our souls—or the contrary. In view of the circumstances + in which she found herself, what Jacqueline absorbed from these books was + poison. + </p> + <p> + When, after the physical and moral crisis through which she had passed, + Jacqueline resumed the life of every day, she had in her sad eyes, around + which for some time past had been dark circles, an expression of anxiety + such as the first contact with a knowledge of evil might have put into + Eve’s eyes after she had plucked the apple. Her investigations had very + imperfectly enlightened her. She was as much perplexed as ever, with some + false ideas besides. When she was well again, however, she continued weak + and languid; she felt somehow as if, she had come back to her old + surroundings from some place far away. Everything about her now seemed sad + and unfamiliar, though outwardly nothing was altered. Her parents had + apparently forgotten the unhappy episode of the picture. It had been sent + away to Grandchaux, which was tantamount to its being buried. Hubert + Marien had resumed his habits of intimacy in the family. From that time + forth he took less and less notice of Jacqueline—whether it were + that he owed her a grudge for all the annoyance she had been the means of + bringing upon him, or whether he feared to burn himself in the flame which + had once scorched him more than he admitted to himself, who can say? + Perhaps he was only acting in obedience to orders. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0006" id="link2HCH0006"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER VI. A CONVENT FLOWER + </h2> + <p> + One of Jacqueline’s first walks, after she had recovered, was to see her + cousin Giselle at her convent. She did not seek this friend’s society when + she was happy and in a humor for amusement, for she thought her a little + straightlaced, or, as she said, too like a nun; but nobody could condole + or sympathize with a friend in trouble like Giselle. It seemed as if + nature herself had intended her for a Sister of Charity—a Gray + Sister, as Jacqueline would sometimes call her, making fun of her somewhat + dull intellect, which had been benumbed, rather than stimulated, by the + education she had received. + </p> + <p> + The Benedictine Convent is situated in a dull street on the left bank of + the Seine, all gardens and hotels—that is, detached houses. Grass + sprouted here and there among the cobblestones. There were no street-lamps + and no policemen. Profound silence reigned there. The petals of an acacia, + which peeped timidly over its high wall, dropped, like flakes of snow, on + the few pedestrians who passed by it in the springtime. + </p> + <p> + The enormous porte-cochere gave entrance into a square courtyard, on one + side of which was the chapel, on the other, the door that led into the + convent. Here Jacqueline presented herself, accompanied by her old nurse, + Modeste. She had not yet resumed her German lessons, and was striving to + put off as long as possible any intercourse with Fraulein Schult, who had + known of her foolish fancy, and who might perhaps renew the odious + subject. Walking with Modeste, on the contrary, seemed like going back to + the days of her childhood, the remembrance of which soothed her like a + recollection of happiness and peace, now very far away; it was a + reminiscence of the far-off limbo in which her young soul, pure and white, + had floated, without rapture, but without any great grief or pain. + </p> + <p> + The porteress showed them into the parlor. There they found several pupils + who were talking to members of their families, from whom they were + separated by a grille, whose black bars gave to those within the + appearance of captives, and made rather a barrier to eager demonstrations + of affection, though they did not hinder the reception of good things to + eat. + </p> + <p> + “Tiens! I have brought you some chocolate,” said Jacqueline to Giselle, as + soon as her cousin appeared, looking far prettier in her black cloth frock + than when she wore an ordinary walking-costume. Her fair hair was drawn + back ‘a la Chinoise’ from a white forehead resembling that of a German + Madonna; it was one of those foreheads, slightly and delicately curved, + which phrenologists tell us indicate reflection and enthusiasm. + </p> + <p> + But Giselle, without thanking Jacqueline for the chocolate, exclaimed at + once: “Mon Dieu! What has been the matter with you?” + </p> + <p> + She spoke rather louder than usual, it being understood that conversations + were to be carried on in a low tone, so as not to interfere with those of + other persons. She added: “I find you so altered.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes—I have been ill,” said Jacqueline, carelessly, “sorrow has made + me ill,” she added, in a whisper, looking to see whether the nun, who was + discreetly keeping watch, walking to and fro behind the grille, might + chance to be listening. “Oh, ask me no questions! I must never tell you—but + for me, you must know—the happiness of my life is at an end—is + at an end—” + </p> + <p> + She felt herself to be very interesting while she was speaking thus; her + sorrows were somewhat assuaged. There was undoubtedly a certain pleasure + in letting some one look down into the unfathomable, mysterious depths of + a suffering soul. + </p> + <p> + She had expected much curiosity on the part of Giselle, and had resolved + beforehand to give her no answers; but Giselle only sighed, and said, + softly: + </p> + <p> + “Ah—my poor darling! I, too, am very unhappy. If you only knew—” + </p> + <p> + “How? Good heavens! what can have happened to you here?” + </p> + <p> + “Here? oh! nothing, of course; but this year I am to leave the convent—and + I think I can guess what will then be before me.” + </p> + <p> + Here, seeing that the nun who was keeping guard was listening, Giselle, + with great presence of mind, spoke louder on indifferent subjects till she + had passed out of earshot, then she rapidly poured her secret into + Jacqueline’s ear. + </p> + <p> + From a few words that had passed between her grandmother and Madame + d’Argy, she had found out that Madame de Monredon intended to marry her. + </p> + <p> + “But that need not make you unhappy,” said Jacqueline, “unless he is + really distasteful to you.” + </p> + <p> + “That is what I am not sure about—perhaps he is not the one I think. + But I hardly know why—I have a dread, a great dread, that it is one + of our neighbors in the country. Grandmamma has several times spoken in my + presence of the advantage of uniting our two estates—they touch each + other—oh! I know her ideas! she wants a man well-born, one who has a + position in the world—some one, as she says, who knows something of + life—that is, I suppose, some one no longer young, and who has not + much hair on his head—like Monsieur de Talbrun.” + </p> + <p> + “Is he very ugly—this Monsieur de Talbrun?” + </p> + <p> + “He’s not ugly—and not handsome. But, just think! he is + thirty-four!” + </p> + <p> + Jacqueline blushed, seeing in this speech a reflection on her own taste in + such matters. + </p> + <p> + “That’s twice my age,” sighed Giselle. + </p> + <p> + “Of course that would be dreadful if he were to stay always twice your age—for + instance, if you were now thirty-five, he would be seventy, and a hundred + and twenty when you reached your sixtieth year—but really to be + twice your age now will only make him seventeen years older than + yourself.” + </p> + <p> + In the midst of this chatter, which was beginning to attract the notice of + the nun, they broke off with a laugh, but it was only one of those laughs + ‘au bout des levres’, uttered by persons who have made up their minds to + be unhappy. Then Giselle went on: + </p> + <p> + “I know nothing about him, you understand—but he frightens me. I + tremble to think of taking his arm, of talking to him, of being his wife. + Just think even of saying thou to him!” + </p> + <p> + “But married people don’t say thou to each other nowadays,” said + Jacqueline, “it is considered vulgar.” + </p> + <p> + “But I shall have to call him by his Christian name!” + </p> + <p> + “What is Monsieur de Talbrun’s Christian name?” + </p> + <p> + “Oscar.” + </p> + <p> + “Humph! That is not a very pretty name, but you could get over the + difficulty—you could say ‘mon ami’. After all, your sorrows are less + than mine.” + </p> + <p> + “Poor Jacqueline!” said Giselle, her soft hazel eyes moist with sympathy. + </p> + <p> + “I have lost at one blow all my illusions, and I have made a horrible + discovery, that it would be wicked to tell to any one—you understand—not + even to my confessor.” + </p> + <p> + “Heavens! but you could tell your mother!” + </p> + <p> + “You forget, I have no mother,” replied Jacqueline in a tone which + frightened her friend: “I had a dear mamma once, but she would enter less + than any one into my sorrows; and as to my father—it would make + things worse to speak to him,” she added, clasping her hands. “Have you + ever read any novels, Giselle?” + </p> + <p> + “Hem!” said the discreet voice of the nun, by way of warning. + </p> + <p> + “Two or three by Walter Scott.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh! then you can imagine nothing like what I could tell you. How horrid + that nun is, she stops always as she comes near us! Why can’t she do as + Modeste does, and leave us to talk by ourselves?” + </p> + <p> + It seemed indeed as if the Argus in a black veil had overheard part of + this conversation, not perhaps the griefs of Jacqueline, which were not + very intelligible, but some of the words spoken by Giselle, for, drawing + near her, she said, gently: “We, too, shall all grieve to lose you, my + dearest child; but remember one can serve God anywhere, and save one’s + soul—in the world as well as in a convent.” And she passed on, + giving a kind smile to Jacqueline, whom she knew, having seen her several + times in the convent parlor, and whom she thought a nice girl, + notwithstanding what she called her “fly-away airs”—“the airs they + acquire from modern education,” she said to herself, with a sigh. + </p> + <p> + “Those poor ladies would have us think of nothing but a future life,” said + Jacqueline, shrugging her shoulders. + </p> + <p> + “We ought to think of it first of all,” said Giselle, who had become + serious. “Sometimes I think my place should have been among these ladies + who have brought me up. They are so good, and they seem to be so happy. + Besides, do you know, I stand less in awe of them than I do of my + grandmother. When grandmamma orders me I never shall dare to object, even + if—But you must think me very selfish, my poor Jacqueline! I am + talking only of myself. Do you know what you ought to do as you go away? + You should go into the chapel, and pray with all your heart for me, that I + may be brought in safety through my troubles about which I have told you, + and I will do the same for yours, about which you have not told me. An + exchange of prayers is the best foundation for a friendship,” she added; + for Giselle had many little convent maxims at her fingers’ ends, to which, + when she uttered them, her sincerity of look and tone gave a personal + meaning. + </p> + <p> + “You are right,” said Jacqueline, much moved. “It has done me good to see + you. Take this chocolate.” + </p> + <p> + “And you must take this,” said Giselle, giving her a little illuminated + card, with sacred words and symbols. + </p> + <p> + “Adieu, dearest-say, have you ever detested any one?” + </p> + <p> + “Never!” cried Giselle, with horror. + </p> + <p> + “Well! I do detest—detest—You are right, I will go into the + chapel. I need some exorcism.” + </p> + <p> + And laughing at her use of this last word—the same little mirthless + laugh that she had uttered before—Jacqueline went away, followed by + the admiring glances of the other girls, who from behind the bars of their + cage noted the brilliant plumage of this bird who was at liberty. She + crossed the courtyard, and, followed by Modeste, entered the chapel, where + she sank upon her knees. The mystic half-light of the place, tinged purple + by its passage through the stained windows, seemed to enlarge the little + chancel, parted in two by a double grille, behind which the nuns could + hear the service without being seen. + </p> + <p> + The silence was so deep that the low murmur of a prayer could now and then + be heard. The worshipers might have fancied themselves a hundred leagues + from all the noises of the world, which seemed to die out when they + reached the convent walls. + </p> + <p> + Jacqueline read, and re-read mechanically, the words printed in letters of + gold on the little card Giselle had given her. It was a symbolical + picture, and very ugly; but the words were: “Oh! that I had wings like a + dove, for then would I flee away and be at rest.” + </p> + <p> + “Wings!” she repeated, with vague aspiration. The aspiration seemed to + disengage her from herself, and from this earth, which had nothing more to + offer her. Ah! how far away was now the time when she had entered + churches, full of happiness and hope, to offer a candle that her prayer + might be granted, which she felt sure it would be! All was vanity! As she + gazed at the grille, behind which so many women, whose worldly lives had + been cut short, now lived, safe from the sorrows and temptations of this + world, Jacqueline seemed for the first time to understand why Giselle + regretted that she might not share forever the blessed peace enjoyed in + the convent. A torpor stole over her, caused by the dimness, the faint + odor of the incense, and the solemn silence. She imagined herself in the + act of giving up the world. She saw herself in a veil, with her eyes + raised to Heaven, very pale, standing behind the grille. She would have to + cut off her hair. + </p> + <p> + That seemed hard, but she would make the sacrifice. She would accept + anything, provided the ungrateful pair, whom she would not name, could + feel sorrow for her loss—maybe even remorse. Full of these ideas, + which certainly had little in common with the feelings of those who seek + to forgive those who trespass against them, Jacqueline continued to + imagine herself a Benedictine sister, under the soothing influence of her + surroundings, just as she had mistaken the effects of physical weakness + when she was ill for a desire to die. Such feelings were the result of a + void which the whole universe, as she thought, never could fill, but it + was really a temporary vacuum, like that caused by the loss of a first + tooth. These teeth come out with the first jar, and nature intends them to + be speedily replaced by others, much more permanent; but children cry when + they are pulled out, and fancy they are in very tight. Perhaps they + suffer, after all, nearly as much as they think they do. + </p> + <p> + “Mademoiselle!” said Modeste, touching her on the shoulder. + </p> + <p> + “I was content to be here,” answered Jacqueline, with a sigh. “Do you + know, Modeste,” she went on, when they got out of doors, “that I have + almost made up my mind to be a nun. What do you say to that?” + </p> + <p> + “Heaven forbid!” cried the old nurse, much startled. + </p> + <p> + “Life is so hard,” replied her young mistress. + </p> + <p> + “Not for you, anyhow. It would be a sin to say so.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah! Modeste, we so little know the real truth of things—we can see + only appearances. Don’t you think that a linen band over my forehead would + be very becoming to me? I should look like Saint Theresa.” + </p> + <p> + “And what would be the good of your looking like Saint Theresa, when there + would be nobody to tell you so?” said Modeste, with the practical + good-sense that never forsook her. “You would be beautiful for yourself + alone. You would not even be allowed a looking-glass just talk about that + fancy to Monsieur—we should soon see what he would say to such a + notion.” + </p> + <p> + M. de Nailles, having just left the Chamber, was crossing the Pont de la + Concorde on foot at this moment. His daughter ran up to him, and caught + him by the arm. They walked homeward talking of very different things from + bolts and bars. The Baron, who was a weak man, thought in his heart that + he had been too severe with his daughter for some time past. As he + recalled what had taken place, the anger of Madame de Nailles in the + matter of the picture seemed to him to have been extreme and unnecessary. + Jacqueline was just at an age when young girls are apt to be nervous and + impressionable; they had been wrong to be rough with one who was so + sensitive. His wife was quite of his opinion, she acknowledged (not + wishing him to think too much on the subject) that she had been too + quick-tempered. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” she had said, frankly, “I am jealous; I want things to myself. I + own I was angry when I thought that Jacqueline was about to throw off my + authority, and hurt when I found she was capable of keeping up a + concealment—when I believed she was so open always with me. My + behavior was foolish, I acknowledge. But what can we do? Neither of us can + go and ask her pardon?” + </p> + <p> + “Of course not,” said the father, “all we can do is to treat her with a + little more consideration for the future; and, with your permission, I + shall use her illness as an excuse for spoiling her a little.” + </p> + <p> + “You have carte blanche, my dear, I agree to everything.” So M. de + Nailles, with his daughter’s arm in his, began to spoil her, as he had + intended. + </p> + <p> + “You are still rather pale,” he said, “but sea-bathing will change all + that. Would you like to go to the seaside next month?” + </p> + <p> + Jacqueline answered with a little incredulous smile: + </p> + <p> + “Oh, certainly, papa.” + </p> + <p> + “You don’t seem very sure about it. In the first place, where shall we go? + Your mamma seems to fancy Houlgate?” + </p> + <p> + “Of course we must do what she wishes,” replied Jacqueline, rather + bitterly. + </p> + <p> + “But, little daughter, what would you like? What do you say to Treport?” + </p> + <p> + “I should like Treport very much, because there we should be near Madame + d’Argy.” + </p> + <p> + Jacqueline had felt much drawn to Madame d’Argy since her troubles, for + she had been the nearest friend of her own mother—her own dead + mother, too long forgotten. The chateau of Madame d’Argy, called + Lizerolles, was only two miles from Treport, in a charming situation on + the road to St. Valery. + </p> + <p> + “That’s the very thing, then!” said M. de Nailles. + </p> + <p> + “Fred is going to spend a month at Lizerolles with his mother. You might + ride on horseback with him. He is going to enjoy a holiday, poor fellow! + before he has to be sent off on long and distant voyages.” + </p> + <p> + “I don’t know how to ride,” said Jacqueline, still in the tone of a + victim. + </p> + <p> + “The doctor thinks riding would be good for you, and you have time enough + yet to take some lessons. Mademoiselle Schult could take you nine or ten + times to the riding-school. And I will go with you the first time,” added + M. de Nailles, in despair at not having been able to please her. “To-day + we will go to Blackfern’s and order a habit—a riding-habit! Can I do + more?” + </p> + <p> + At this, as if by magic, whether she would or not, the lines of sadness + and sullenness disappeared from Jacqueline’s face; her eyes sparkled. She + gave one more proof, that to every Parisienne worthy of the name, the two + pleasures in riding are, first to have a perfectly fitting habit, + secondly, to have the opportunity of showing how pretty she can be after a + new fashion. + </p> + <p> + “Shall we go to Blackfern’s now?” + </p> + <p> + “This very moment, if you wish it.” + </p> + <p> + “You really mean Blackfern? Yvonne’s habit came from Blackfern’s!” Yvonne + d’Etaples was the incarnation of chic—of fashionable elegance—in + Jacqueline’s eyes. Her heart beat with pleasure when she thought how Belle + and Dolly would envy her when she told them: “I have a myrtle-green + riding-habit, just like Yvonne’s.” She danced rather than walked as they + went together to Blackfern’s. A habit was much nicer than a long gown. + </p> + <p> + A quarter of an hour later they were in the waiting-room, where the last + creations of the great ladies’ tailor, were displayed upon lay figures, + among saleswomen and ‘essayeuses’, the very prettiest that could be found + in England or the Batignolles, chosen because they showed off to + perfection anything that could be put upon their shoulders, from the + ugliest to the most extravagant. Deceived by the unusual elegance of these + beautiful figures, ladies who are neither young nor well-shaped allow + themselves to be beguiled and cajoled into buying things not suited to + them. Very seldom does a hunchbacked dowager hesitate to put upon her + shoulders the garment that draped so charmingly those of the living statue + hired to parade before her. Jacqueline could not help laughing as she + watched this way of hunting larks; and thought the mirror might have + warned them, like a scarecrow, rather than have tempted them into the + snare. + </p> + <p> + The head tailor of the establishment made them wait long enough to allow + the pretty showgirls to accomplish their work of temptation. They + fascinated Jacqueline’s father by their graces and their glances, while at + the same time they warbled into his daughter’s ear, with a slightly + foreign’ accent: “That would be so becoming to Mademoiselle.” + </p> + <p> + For ladies going to the seaside there were things of the most exquisite + simplicity: this white fur, trimmed with white velvet, for instance; that + jacket like the uniform of a naval officer with a cap to match—“All + to please Fred,” said Jacqueline, laughing. M. de Nailles, while they + waited for the tailor, chose two costumes quite as original as those of + Mademoiselle d’Etaples, which delighted Jacqueline all the more, because + she thought it probable they would displease her stepmother. At last the + magnificent personage, his face adorned with luxuriant whiskers, appeared + with the bow of a great artist or a diplomatist; took Jacqueline’s measure + as if he were fulfilling some important function, said a few brief words + to his secretary, and then disappeared; the group of English beauties + saying in chorus that Mademoiselle might come back that day week and try + it on. + </p> + <p> + Accordingly, a week later Jacqueline, seated on the wooden-horse used for + this purpose, had the satisfaction of assuring herself that her habit, + fitting marvelously to her bust, showed not a wrinkle, any more than a + ‘gant de Suede’ shows on the hand; it was closely fitted to a figure not + yet fully developed, but which the creator of the chef-d’oeuvre deigned to + declare was faultless. Usually, he said, he recommended his customers to + wear a certain corset of a special cut, with elastic material over the + hips covered by satin that matched the riding-habit, but at Mademoiselle’s + age, and so supple as she was, the corset was not necessary. In short, the + habit was fashioned to perfection, and fitted like her skin to her little + flexible figure. In her close-fitting petticoat, her riding-trousers and + nothing else, Jacqueline felt herself half naked, though she was buttoned + up to her throat. She had taken an attitude on her wooden horse such as + might have been envied by an accomplished equestrienne, her elbows held + well back, her shoulders down, her chest expanded, her right leg over the + pommel, her left foot in the stirrup, and never after did any real gallop + give her the same delight as this imaginary ride on an imaginary horse, + she looking at herself with entire satisfaction all the time in an + enormous cheval-glass. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0010" id="link2H_4_0010"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + BOOK 2. + </h2> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0007" id="link2HCH0007"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER VII. THE BLUE BAND + </h2> + <p> + Love, like any other human malady, should be treated according to the age + and temperament of the sufferer. Madame de Nailles, who was a very keen + observer, especially where her own interests were concerned, lent herself + with the best possible grace to everything that might amuse and distract + Jacqueline, of whom she had by this time grown afraid. Not that she now + dreaded her as a rival. The attitude of coldness and reserve that the + young girl had adopted in her intercourse with Marien, her stepmother + could see, was no evidence of coquetry. She showed, in her behavior to the + friend of the family, a freedom from embarrassment which was new to her, + and a frigidity which could not possibly have been assumed so + persistently. No! what struck Madame de Nailles was the suddenness of this + transformation. Jacqueline evidently took no further interest in Marien; + she had apparently no longer any affection for herself—she, who had + been once her dear little mamma, whom she had loved so tenderly, now felt + herself to be considered only as a stepmother. Fraulein Schult, too, + received no more confidences. What did it all mean? + </p> + <p> + Had Jacqueline, through any means, discovered a secret, which, in her + hands, might be turned into a most dangerous weapon? She had a way of + saying before the guilty pair: “Poor papa!” with an air of pity, as she + kissed him, which made Madame de Nailles’s flesh creep, and sometimes she + would amuse herself by making ambiguous remarks which shot arrows of + suspicion into a heart already afraid. “I feel sure,” thought the + Baroness, “that she has found out everything. But, no! it seems + impossible. How can I discover what she knows?” + </p> + <p> + Jacqueline’s revenge consisted in leaving her stepmother in doubt. She + more than suspected, not without cause, that Fraulein Schult was false to + her, and had the wit to baffle all the clever questions of her + ‘promeneuse’. + </p> + <p> + “My worship of a man of genius—a great artist? Oh! that has all come + to an end since I have found out that his devotion belongs to an elderly + lady with a fair complexion and light hair. I am only sorry for him.” + </p> + <p> + Jacqueline had great hopes that these cruel words would be reported—as + they were—to her stepmother, and, of course, they did not mitigate + the Baroness’s uneasiness. Madame de Nailles revenged herself for this + insult by dismissing the innocent echo of the impertinence—of + course, under some plausible pretext. She felt it necessary also to be + very cautious how she treated the enemy whom she was forced to shelter + under her own roof. Her policy—a policy imposed on her by force of + circumstances—was one of great indulgence and consideration, so that + Jacqueline, soon feeling that she was for the present under no control, + took the bit between her teeth. No other impression can adequately convey + an idea of the sort of fury with which she plunged into pleasure and + excitement, a state of mind which apparently, without any transition, + succeeded her late melancholy. She had done with sentiment, she thought, + forever. She meant to be practical and positive, a little Parisienne, and + “in the swim.” There were plenty of examples among those she knew that she + could follow. Berthe, Helene, and Claire Wermant were excellent leaders in + that sort of thing. Those three daughters of the ‘agent de change’ were at + this time at Treport, in charge of a governess, who let them do whatever + they pleased, subject only to be scolded by their father, who came down + every Saturday to Treport, on that train that was called the ‘train des + maris’. They had made friends with two or three American girls, who were + called “fast,” and Jacqueline was soon enrolled in the ranks of that gay + company. + </p> + <p> + The cure that was begun on the wooden horse at Blackfern’s was completed + on the sea-shore. + </p> + <p> + The girls with whom she now associated were nine or ten little imps of + Satan, who, with their hair flying in the wind and their caps over one + ear, made the quiet beach ring with their boy-like gayety. They were + called “the Blue Band,” because of a sort of uniform that they adopted. We + speak of them intentionally as masculine, and not feminine, because what + is masculine best suited their appearance and behavior, for, though all + could flirt like coquettes of experience, they were more like boys than + girls, if judged by their age and their costume. + </p> + <p> + These Blues lived close to one another on that avenue that is edged with + chalets, cottages, and villas, whose lower floors are abundantly provided + with great glass windows, which seem to let the ocean into their very + rooms, as well as to lay bare everything that passes in them to the public + eye, as frankly as if their inmates bivouacked in the open street. Nothing + was private; neither the meals, nor the coming and going of visitors. It + must be said, however, that the inhabitants of these glass houses were + very seldom at home. Bathing, and croquet, or tennis, at low water, on the + sands, searching for shells, fishing with nets, dances at the Casino, + little family dances alternating with concerts, to which even children + went till nine o’clock, would seem enough to fill up the days of these + young people, but they had also to make boating excursions to Cayeux, + Crotoy, and Hourdel, besides riding parties in the beautiful country that + surrounded the Chateau of Lizerolles, where they usually dismounted on + their return. + </p> + <p> + At Lizerolles they were received by Madame d’Argy, who was delighted that + they provided safe amusement for her son, who appeared in the midst of + this group of half-grown girls like a young cock among the hens of his + harem. Frederic d’Argy, the young naval officer, who was enjoying his + holiday, as M. de Nailles had said, was enjoying it exceedingly. How + often, long after, on board the ship Floye, as he paced the silent + quarter-deck, far from any opportunity of flirting, did he recall the + forms and faces of these young girls, some dark, some fair, some + rosy-half-women and half-children, who made much of him, and scolded him, + and teased him, and contended for his attentions, while no better could be + had, on purpose to tease one another. Oh! what a delightful time he had + had! They did not leave him to himself one moment. He had to lift them + into their saddles, to assist them as they clambered over the rocks, to + superintend their attempts at swimming, to dance with them all by turns, + and to look after them in the difficult character of Mentor, for he was + older than they, and were they not entrusted to his care? What a serious + responsibility! Had not Mentor even found himself too often timid and + excited when one little firm foot was placed in his hand, when his arm was + round one little waist, when he could render her as a cavalier a thousand + little services, or accept with gladness the role of her consoler. He did + everything he could think of to please them, finding all of them charming, + though Jacqueline never ceased to be the one he preferred, a preference + which she might easily have inferred from the poor lad’s unusual timidity + and awkwardness when he was brought into contact with her. But she paid no + attention to his devotion, accepting himself and all he did for her as, in + some sort, her personal property. + </p> + <p> + He was of no consequence, he did not count; what was he but her comrade + and former playfellow? + </p> + <p> + Happily for Fred, he took pleasure in the familiarity with which she + treated him—a familiarity which, had he known it, was not + flattering. He was in the seventh heaven for a whole fortnight, during + which he was the recipient of more dried flowers and bows of ribbon than + he ever got in all the rest of his life—the American girls were very + fond of giving keepsakes—but then his star waned. He was no longer + the only one. The grown-up brother of the Wermants came to Treport—Raoul, + with his air of a young man about town—a boulevardier, with his + jacket cut in the latest fashion, with his cockle-shell of a boat, which + he managed as well on salt water as on fresh, sculling with his arms bare, + a cigarette in his mouth, a monocle in his eye, and a pith-helmet, such as + is worn in India. The young ladies used to gather on the sands to watch + him as he struck the water with the broad blade of his scull, near enough + for them to see and to admire his nautical ability. They thought all his + jokes amusing, and they delighted in his way of seizing his partner for a + waltz and bearing her off as if she were a prize, hardly allowing her to + touch the floor. + </p> + <p> + Fred thought him, with his stock of old jokes, very ill-mannered. He + laughed at his sculling, and had a great mind to strike him after he saw + him waltzing with Jacqueline. But he had to acknowledge the general + appreciation felt for the fellow whom he called vulgar. + </p> + <p> + Raoul Wermant did not stay long at Treport. He had only come to see his + sisters on his way to Dieppe, where he expected to meet a certain Leah + Skip, an actress from the ‘Nouveautes’. If he kept her waiting, however, + for some days, it was because he was loath to leave the handsome Madame de + Villegry, who was living near her friend Madame de Nailles, recruiting + herself after the fatigues of the winter season. Such being the situation, + the young girls of the Blue Band might have tried in vain to make any + impression upon him. But the hatred with which he inspired Fred found some + relief in the composition of fragments of melancholy verse, which the + young midshipman hid under his mattresses. It is not an uncommon thing for + naval men to combine a love of the sea with a love of poetry. Fred’s + verses were not good, but they were full of dejection. The poor fellow + compared Raoul Wermant to Faust, and himself to Siebel. He spoke of + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + The youth whose eyes were brimming with salt tears, + Whose heart was troubled by a thousand fears, + Poor slighted lover!-since in his heavy heart + All his illusions perish and depart. +</pre> + <p> + Again, he wrote of Siebel: + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + O Siebel!—thine is but the common fate! + They told thee Fortune upon youth would wait; + ‘Tis false when love’s in question-and you may— +</pre> + <p> + Here he enumerated all the proofs of tenderness possible for a woman to + give her lover, and then he added: + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + You may know all, poor Siebel!—all, some day, + When weary of this life and all its dreams, + You learn to know it is not what it seems; + When there is nothing that can cheer you more, + All that remains is fondly to adore! +</pre> + <p> + And after trying in vain to find a rhyme for lover, he cried: + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + Oh! tell me—if one grief exceeds another + Is not this worst, to feel mere friendship moves + To cruel kindness the dear girl he loves? +</pre> + <p> + Fred’s mother surprised him one night while he was watering with his tears + the ink he was putting to so sorry a use. She had been aware that he sat + up late at night—his sleeplessness was not the insomnia of genius—for + she had seen the glare of light from his little lamp burning later than + the usual bedtime of the chateau, in one of the turret chambers at + Lizerolles. + </p> + <p> + In vain Fred denied that he was doing anything, in vain he tried to put + his papers out of sight; his mother was so persuasive that at last he + owned everything to her, and in addition to the comfort he derived from + his confession, he gained a certain satisfaction to his ‘amour-propre’, + for Madame d’Argy thought the verses beautiful. A mother’s geese are + always swans. But it was only when she said, “I don’t see why you should + not marry your Jacqueline—such a thing is not by any means + impossible,” and promised to do all in her power to insure his happiness, + that Fred felt how dearly he loved his mother. Oh, a thousand times more + than he had ever supposed he loved her! However, he had not yet done with + the agonies that lie in wait for lovers. + </p> + <p> + Madame de Monredon arrived one day at the Hotel de la Plage, accompanied + by her granddaughter, whom she had taken away from the convent before the + beginning of the holidays. Since she had fully arranged the marriage with + M. de Talbrun, it seemed important that Giselle should acquire some + liveliness, and recruit her health, before the fatal wedding-day arrived. + M. de Talbrun liked ladies to be always well and always lively, and it was + her duty to see that Giselle accommodated herself to his taste; + sea-bathing, life in the open air, and merry companions, were the things + she needed to make her a little less thin, to give her tone, and to take + some of her convent stiffness out of her. Besides, she could have free + intercourse with her intended husband, thanks to the greater freedom of + manners permitted at the sea-side. Such were the ideas of Madame de + Monredon. + </p> + <p> + Poor Giselle! In vain they dressed her in fine clothes, in vain they + talked to her and scolded her from morning till night, she continued to be + the little convent-bred schoolgirl she had always been; with downcast + eyes, pale as a flower that has known no sunlight, and timid to a point of + suffering. M. de Talbrun frightened her as much as ever, and she had + looked forward to the comfort of weeping in the arms of Jacqueline, who, + the last time she had seen her, had been herself so unhappy. But what was + her astonishment to find the young girl, who, a few weeks before, had made + her such tragic confidences through the grille in the convent parlor, + transformed into a creature bent on excitement and amusement. When she + attempted to allude to the subject on which Jacqueline had spoken to her + at the convent, and to ask her what it was that had then made her so + unhappy, Jacqueline cried: “Oh! my dear, I have forgotten all about it!” + But there was exaggeration in this profession of forgetfulness, and she + hurriedly drew Giselle back to the game of croquet, where they were joined + by M. de Talbrun. + </p> + <p> + The future husband of Giselle was a stout young fellow, short and + thick-set, with broad shoulders, a large flat face, and strong jaws, + ornamented with an enormous pair of whiskers, which partly compensated him + for a loss of hair. He had never done anything but shoot and hunt over his + property nine months in the year, and spend the other three months in + Paris, where the jockey Club and ballet-dancers sufficed for his + amusement. He did not pretend to be a man whose bachelor life had been + altogether blameless, but he considered himself to be a “correct” man, + according to what he understood by that expression, which implied neither + talents, virtues, nor good manners; nevertheless, all the Blue Band agreed + that he was a finished type of gentleman-hood. Even Raoul’s sisters had to + confess, with a certain disgust, that, whatever people may say, in our own + day the aristocracy of wealth has to lower its flag before the authentic + quarterings of the old noblesse. They secretly envied Giselle because she + was going to be a grande dame, while all the while they asserted that + old-fashioned distinctions had no longer any meaning. Nevertheless, they + looked forward to the day when they, too, might take their places in the + Faubourg St. Germain. One may purchase that luxury with a fortune of eight + hundred thousand francs. + </p> + <p> + The croquet-ground, which was underwater at high tide, was a long stretch + of sand that fringed the shingle. Two parties were formed, in which care + was taken to make both sides as nearly equal as possible, after which the + game began, with screams, with laughter, a little cheating and some + disputes, as is the usual custom. All this appeared to amuse Oscar de + Talbrun—exceedingly. For the first time during his wooing he was not + bored. The Misses Sparks—Kate and Nora—by their “high spirits” + agreeably reminded him of one or two excursions he had made in past days + into Bohemian society. + </p> + <p> + He formed the highest opinion of Jacqueline when he saw how her still + short skirts showed pretty striped silk stockings, and how her well-shaped + foot was planted firmly on a blue ball, when she was preparing to roquer + the red one. The way in which he fixed his eyes upon her gave great + offense to Fred, and did it not alarm and shock Giselle? No! Giselle + looked on calmly at the fun and talk around her, as unmoved as the stump + of a tree, spoiling the game sometimes by her ignorance or her + awkwardness, well satisfied that M. de Talbrun should leave her alone. + Talking with him was very distasteful to her. + </p> + <p> + “You have been more stupid than usual,” had been what her grandmother had + never failed to say to her in Paris after one of his visits, which he + alternated with bouquets. But at Treport no one seemed to mind her being + stupid, and indeed M. de Talbrun hardly thought of her existence, up to + the moment when they were all nearly caught by the first wave that came + rolling in over the croquet-ground, when all the girls took flight, + flushed, animated, and with lively gesticulation, while the gentlemen + followed with the box into which had been hastily flung hoops, balls, and + mallets. + </p> + <p> + On their way Count Oscar condescendingly explained to Fred, as to a + novice, that the only good thing about croquet was that it brought men and + girls together. He was himself very good at games, he said, having + remarkably firm muscles and exceptionally sharp sight; but he went on to + add that he had not been able to show what he could do that day. The wet + sand did not make so good a croquet-ground as the one he had had made in + his park! It is a good thing to know one’s ground in all circumstances, + but especially in playing croquet. Then, dexterously passing from the game + to the players, he went on to say, under cover of giving Fred a warning, + that a man need not fear going too far with those girls from America—they + had known how to flirt from the time they were born. They could look out + for themselves, they had talons and beaks; but up to a certain point they + were very easy to get on with. Those other players were queer little + things; the three sisters Wermant were not wanting in chic, but, hang it!—the + sweetest flower of them all, to his mind, was the tall one, the dark one—unripe + fruit in perfection! “And a year or two hence,” added M. de Talbrun, with + all the self-confidence of an expert, “every one will be talking about her + in the world of society.” + </p> + <p> + Poor Fred kept silent, trying to curb his wrath. But the blood mounted to + his temples as he listened to these remarks, poured into his ear by a man + of thirty-five, between puffs of his cigar, because there was nobody else + to whom he could make them. But they seemed to Fred very ill-mannered and + ill-timed. If he had not dreaded making himself absurd, he would gladly + have stood forth as the champion of the Sparks, the Wermants, and all the + other members of the Blue Band, so that he might give vent to the anger + raging in his heart on hearing that odious compliment to Jacqueline. Why + was he not old enough to marry her? What right had that detestable Talbrun + to take notice of any girl but his fiancee? If he himself could marry now, + his choice would soon be made! No doubt, later—as his mother had + said to him. But would Jacqueline wait? Everybody was beginning to admire + her. Somebody would carry her off—somebody would cut him out while + he was away at sea. Oh, horrible thought for a young lover! + </p> + <p> + That night, at the Casino, while dancing a quadrille with Giselle, he + could not refrain from saying to her, “Don’t you object to Monsieur de + Talbrun’s dancing so much with Jacqueline?” + </p> + <p> + “Who?—I?” she cried, astonished, “I don’t see why he should not.” + And then, with a faint laugh, she added: “Oh, if she would only take him—and + keep him!” + </p> + <p> + But Madame de Monredon kept a sharp eye upon M. de Talbrun. “It seems to + me,” she said, looking fixedly into the face of her future + grandson-in-law, “that you really take pleasure in making children skip + about with you.” + </p> + <p> + “So I do,” he replied, frankly and good-humoredly. “It makes me feel young + again.” + </p> + <p> + And Madame de Monredon was satisfied. She was ready to admit that most men + marry women who have not particularly enchanted them, and she had brought + up Giselle with all those passive qualities, which, together with a large + fortune, usually suit best with a ‘mariage de convenance’. + </p> + <p> + Meantime Jacqueline piqued herself upon her worldly wisdom, which she + looked upon as equal to Madame de Monredon’s, since the terrible event + which had filled her mind with doubts. She thought M. de Talbrun would do + well enough for a husband, and she took care to say so to Giselle. + </p> + <p> + “It is a fact,” she told her, with all the self-confidence of large + experience, “that men who are very fascinating always remain bachelors. + That is probably why Monsieur de Cymier, Madame de Villegry’s handsome + cousin, does not think of marrying.” + </p> + <p> + She was mistaken. The Comte de Cymier, a satellite who revolved around + that star of beauty, Madame de Villegry, had been by degrees brought round + by that lady herself to thoughts of matrimony. + </p> + <p> + Madame de Villegry, notwithstanding her profuse use of henna and many + cosmetics, which was always the first thing to strike those who saw her, + prided herself on being uncompromised as to her moral character. There are + some women who, because they stop short of actual vice, consider + themselves irreproachable. They are willing, so to speak, to hang out the + bush, but keep no tavern. In former times an appearance of evil was + avoided in order to cover evil deeds, but at present there are those who, + under the cover of being only “fast,” risk the appearance of evil. + </p> + <p> + Madame de Villegry was what is sometimes called a “professional beauty.” + She devoted many hours daily to her toilette, she liked to have a crowd of + admirers around her. But when one of them became too troublesome, she got + rid of him by persuading him to marry. She had before this proposed + several young girls to Gerard de Cymier, each one plainer and more + insignificant than the others. It was to tell his dear friend that the one + she had last suggested was positively too ugly for him, that the young + attache to an embassy had come down to the sea-side to visit her. + </p> + <p> + The day after his arrival he was sitting on the shingle at Madame de + Villegry’s feet, both much amused by the grotesque spectacle presented by + the bathers, who exhibited themselves in all degrees of ugliness and + deformity. Of course Madame de Villegry did not bathe, being, as she said, + too nervous. She was sitting under a large parasol and enjoying her own + superiority over those wretched, amphibious creatures who waddled on the + sands before her, comparing Madame X to a seal and Mademoiselle Z to the + skeleton of a cuttle-fish. + </p> + <p> + “Well! it was that kind of thing you wished me to marry,” said M. de + Cymier, in a tone of resentment. + </p> + <p> + “But, my poor friend, what would you have? All young girls are like that. + They improve when they are married.” + </p> + <p> + “If one could only be sure.” + </p> + <p> + “One is never sure of anything, especially anything relating to young + girls. One can not say that they do more than exist till they are married. + A husband has to make whatever he chooses out of them. You are quite + capable of making what you choose of your wife. Take the risk, then.” + </p> + <p> + “I could educate her as to morals—though, I must say, I am not much + used to that kind of instruction; but you will permit me to think that, as + to person, I should at least wish to see a rough sketch of what I may + expect in my wife before my marriage.” + </p> + <p> + At that moment, a girl who had been bathing came out of the water a few + yards from them; the elegant outline of her slender figure, clad in a + bathing-suit of white flannel, which clung to her closely, was thrown into + strong relief by the clear blue background of a summer sky. + </p> + <p> + “Tiens!—but she is pretty!” cried Gerard, breaking off what he was + saying: “And she is the first pretty one I have seen!” + </p> + <p> + Madame de Villegry took up her tortoiseshell opera-glasses, which were + fastened to her waist, but already the young girl, over whose shoulders an + attentive servant had flung a wrapper—a ‘peignoir-eponge’—had + run along the boardwalk and stopped before her, with a gay “Good-morning!” + </p> + <p> + “Jacqueline!” said Madame de Villegry. “Well, my dear child, did you find + the water pleasant?” + </p> + <p> + “Delightful!” said the young girl, giving a rapid glance at M. de Cymier, + who had risen. + </p> + <p> + He was looking at her with evident admiration, an admiration at which she + felt much flattered. She was closely wrapped in her soft, snow-white + peignoir, bordered with red, above which rose her lovely neck and head. + She was trying to catch, on the point of one little foot, one of her + bathing shoes, which had slipped from her. The foot which, when well shod, + M. de Talbrun, through his eyeglass, had so much admired, was still + prettier without shoe or stocking. It was so perfectly formed, so white, + with a little pink tinge here and there, and it was set upon so delicate + an ankle! M. de Cymier looked first at the foot, and then his glance + passed upward over all the rest of the young figure, which could be seen + clearly under the clinging folds of the wet drapery. Her form could be + discerned from head to foot, though nothing was uncovered but the pretty + little arm which held together with a careless grace the folds of her + raiment. The eye of the experienced observer ran rapidly over the outline + of her figure, till it reached the dark head and the brown hair, which + rippled in little curls over her forehead. Her complexion, slightly + golden, was not protected by one of those absurd hats which many bathers + place on top of oiled silk caps which fit them closely. Neither was the + precaution of oiled silk wanted to protect the thick and curling hair, now + sprinkled with great drops that shone like pearls and diamonds. The water, + instead of plastering her hair upon her temples, had made it more curly + and more fleecy, as it hung over her dark eyebrows, which, very near + together at the nose, gave to her eyes a peculiar, slightly oblique + expression. Her teeth were dazzling, and were displayed by the smile which + parted her lips—lips which were, if anything, too red for her pale + complexion. She closed her eyelids now and then to shade her eyes from the + too blinding sunlight. Those eyes were not black, but that hazel which has + golden streaks. Though only half open, they had quickly taken in the fact + that the young man sitting beside Madame de Villegry was very handsome. + </p> + <p> + As she went on with a swift step to her bathing-house, she drew out two + long pins from her back hair, shaking it and letting it fall down her back + with a slightly impatient and imperious gesture; she wished, probably, + that it might dry more quickly. + </p> + <p> + “The devil!” said M. de Cymier, watching her till she disappeared into the + bathing-house. “I never should have thought that it was all her own! There + is nothing wanting in her. That is a young creature it is pleasant to + see.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” said Madame de Villegry, quietly, “she will be very good-looking + when she is eighteen.” + </p> + <p> + “Is she nearly eighteen?” + </p> + <p> + “She is and she is not, for time passes so quickly. A girl goes to sleep a + child, and wakes up old enough to be married. Would you like to be + informed, without loss of time, as to her fortune?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh! I should not care much about her dot. I look out first for other + things.” + </p> + <p> + “I know, of course; but Jacqueline de Nailles comes of a very good + family.” + </p> + <p> + “Is she the daughter of the deputy?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, his only daughter. He has a pretty house in the Parc Monceau and a + chateau of some importance in the Haute-Vienne.” + </p> + <p> + “Very good; but, I repeat, I am not mercenary. Of course, if I should + marry, I should like, for my wife’s sake, to live as well as a married man + as I have lived as a bachelor.” + </p> + <p> + “Which means that you would be satisfied with a fortune equal to your own. + I should have thought you might have asked more. It is true that if you + have been suddenly thunderstruck that may alter your calculations—for + it was very sudden, was it not? Venus rising from the sea!” + </p> + <p> + “Please don’t exaggerate! But you are not so cruel, seeing you are always + urging me to marry, as to wish me to take a wife who looks like a fright + or a horror.” + </p> + <p> + “Heaven preserve me from any such wish! I should be very glad if my little + friend Jacqueline were destined to work your reformation.” + </p> + <p> + “I defy the most careful parent to find anything against me at this + moment, unless it be a platonic devotion. The youth of Mademoiselle de + Nailles is an advantage, for I might indulge myself in that till we were + married, and then I should settle down and leave Paris, where nothing + keeps me but—” + </p> + <p> + “But a foolish fancy,” laughed Madame de Villegry. “However, in return for + your madrigal, accept the advice of a friend. The Nailles seem to me to be + prosperous, but everybody in society appears so, and one never knows what + may happen any day. You would not do amiss if, before you go on, you were + to talk with Wermant, the ‘agent de change’, who has a considerable + knowledge of the business affairs of Jacqueline’s father. He could tell + you about them better than I can.” + </p> + <p> + “Wermant is at Treport, is he not? I thought I saw him—” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, he is here till Monday. You have twenty-four hours.” + </p> + <p> + “Do you really think I am in such a hurry?” + </p> + <p> + “Will you take a bet that by this time to-morrow you will not know exactly + the amount of her dot and the extent of her expectations?” + </p> + <p> + “You would lose. I have something else to think of—now and always.” + </p> + <p> + “What?” she said, carelessly. + </p> + <p> + “You have forbidden me ever to mention it.” + </p> + <p> + Silence ensued. Then Madame de Villegry said, smiling: + </p> + <p> + “I suppose you would like me to present you this evening to my friends the + De Nailles?” + </p> + <p> + And in fact they all met that evening at the Casino, and Jacqueline, in a + gown of scarlet foulard, which would have been too trying for any other + girl, seemed to M. de Cymier as pretty as she had been in her + bathing-costume. Her hair was not dressed high, but it was gathered + loosely together and confined by a ribbon of the same color as her gown, + and she wore a little sailor hat besides. In this costume she had been + called by M. de Talbrun the “Fra Diavolo of the Seas,” and she never + better supported that part, by liveliness and audacity, than she did that + evening, when she made a conquest that was envied—wildly envied—by + the three Demoiselles Wermant and the two Misses Sparks, for the handsome + Gerard, after his first waltz with Madame de Villegry, asked no one to be + his partner but Mademoiselle de Nailles. + </p> + <p> + The girls whom he neglected had not even Fred to fall back upon, for Fred, + the night before, had received orders to join his ship. He had taken leave + of Jacqueline with a pang in his heart which he could hardly hide, but to + which no keen emotion on her part seemed to respond. However, at least, he + was spared the unhappiness of seeing the star of De Cymier rising above + the horizon. + </p> + <p> + “If he could only see me,” thought Jacqueline, waltzing in triumph with M. + de Cymier. “If he could only see me I should be avenged.” + </p> + <p> + But he was not Fred. She was not giving him a thought. It was the last + flash of resentment and hatred that came to her in that moment of triumph, + adding to it a touch of exquisite enjoyment. + </p> + <p> + Thus she performed the obsequies of her first love! + </p> + <p> + Not long after this M. de Nailles said to his wife: + </p> + <p> + “Do you know, my dear, that our little Jacqueline is very much admired? + Her success has been extraordinary. It is not likely she will die an old + maid.” + </p> + <p> + The Baronne assented rather reluctantly. + </p> + <p> + “Wermant was speaking to me the other day,” went on M. de Nailles. “It + seems that that young Count de Cymier, who is always hanging around you, + by the way, has been making inquiries of him, in a manner that looks as if + it had some meaning, as to what is our fortune, our position. But really, + such a match seems too good to be true.” + </p> + <p> + “Why so?” said the Baronne. “I know more about it than you do, from + Blanche de Villegry. She gave me to understand that her cousin was much + struck by Jacqueline at first sight, and ever since she does nothing but + talk to me of M. de Cymier—of his birth, his fortune, his abilities—the + charming young fellow seems gifted with everything. He could be Secretary + of Legation, if he liked to quit Paris: In the meantime attache to an + Embassy looks very well on a card. Attache to the Ministry of the Foreign + Affairs does not seem so good. Jacqueline would be a countess, possibly an + ambassadress. What would you think of that!” + </p> + <p> + Madame de Nailles, who understood policy much better than her husband, had + suddenly become a convert to opportunism, and had made a change of base. + Not being able to devise a plan by which to suppress her young rival, she + had begun to think that her best way to get rid of her would be by + promoting her marriage. The little girl was fast developing into a woman—a + woman who would certainly not consent quietly to be set aside. Well, then, + it would be best to dispose of her in so natural a way. When Jacqueline’s + slender and graceful figure and the freshness of her bloom were no longer + brought into close comparison with her own charms, she felt she should + appear much younger, and should recover some of her prestige; people would + be less likely to remark her increasing stoutness, or the red spots on her + face, increased by the salt air which was so favorable to young girls’ + complexions. Yes, Jacqueline must be married; that was the resolution to + which Madame de Nailles had come after several nights of sleeplessness. It + was her fixed idea, replacing in her brain that other fixed idea which, + willingly or unwillingly, she saw she must give up—the idea of + keeping her stepdaughter in the shade. + </p> + <p> + “Countess! Ambassadress!” repeated M. de Nailles, with rather a melancholy + smile. “You are going too fast, my dear Clotilde. I don’t doubt that + Wermant gave the best possible account of our situation; but when it comes + to saying what I could give her as a dot, I am very much afraid. We should + have, in that case, to fall back on Fred, for I have not told you + everything. This morning Madame d’Argy, who has done nothing but weep + since her boy went away, and who, she says, never will get accustomed to + the life of misery and anxiety she will lead as a sailor’s mother, + exclaimed, as she was talking to me: ‘Ah! there is but one way of keeping + him at Lizerolles, of having him live there as the D’Argys have lived + before him, quietly, like a good landlord, and that would be to give him + your daughter; with her he would be entirely satisfied.’” + </p> + <p> + “Ah! so that is the reason why she asked whether Jacqueline might not stay + with her when we go to Italy! She wishes to court her by proxy. But I + don’t think she will succeed. Monsieur de Cymier has the best chance.” + </p> + <p> + “Do you suppose the child suspects—” + </p> + <p> + “That he admires her? My dear friend, we have to do with a very sharp—sighted + young person. Nothing escapes the observation of Mademoiselle ‘votre + fille’.” + </p> + <p> + And Madame de Nailles, in her turn, smiled somewhat bitterly. + </p> + <p> + “Well,” said Jacqueline’s father, after a few moments’ reflection, “it may + be as well that she should weigh for and against a match before deciding. + She may spend several years that are difficult and dangerous trying to + find out what she wants and to make up her mind.” + </p> + <p> + “Several years?” + </p> + <p> + “Hang it! You would not marry off Jacqueline at once?” + </p> + <p> + “Bah! many a girl, practically not as old as she, is married at sixteen or + seventeen.” + </p> + <p> + “Why! I fancied you thought so differently!” + </p> + <p> + “Our ways of thinking are sometimes altered by events, especially when + they are founded upon sincere and disinterested affection.” + </p> + <p> + “Like that of good parents, such as we are,” added M. de Nailles, ending + her sentence with an expression of grateful emotion. + </p> + <p> + For one moment the Baronne paled under this compliment. + </p> + <p> + “What did you say to Madame d’Argy?” she hastened to ask. + </p> + <p> + “I said we must give the young fellow’s beard time to grow.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, that was right. I prefer Monsieur de Cymier a hundred times over. + Still, if nothing better offers—a bird in the hand, you know—” + </p> + <p> + Madame de Nailles finished her sentence by a wave of her fan. + </p> + <p> + “Oh! our bird in the hand is not to be despised. A very handsome estate—” + </p> + <p> + “Where Jacqueline would be bored to death. I should rather see her radiant + at some foreign court. Let me manage it. Let me bring her out. Give me + carte blanche and let me have some society this winter.” + </p> + <p> + Madame de Nailles, whether she knew it or not—probably she did, for + she had great skill in reading the thoughts of others—was acting + precisely in accordance with the wishes or the will of Jacqueline, who, + having found much enjoyment in the dances at the Casino, had made up her + mind that she meant to come out into society before any of her young + companions. + </p> + <p> + “I shall not have to beg and implore her,” she said to herself, + anticipating the objections of her stepmother. “I shall only have politely + to let her suspect that such a thing may have occurred as having had a + listener at a door. I paid dearly enough for this hold over her. I have no + scruple in using it.” + </p> + <p> + Madame de Nailles was not mistaken in her stepdaughter; she was very far + advanced beyond her age, thanks to the cruel wrong that had been done her + by the loss of her trust in her elders and her respect for them. Her heart + had had its past, though she was still hardly more than a child—a + sad past, though its pain was being rapidly effaced. She now thought about + it only at intervals. Time and circumstances were operating on her as they + act upon us generally; only in her case more quickly than usual, which + produced in her character and feelings phenomena that might have seemed + curious to an observer. She was something of a woman, something of a + child, something of a philosopher. At night, when she was dancing with + Wermant, or Cymier, or even Talbrun, or on horseback, an exercise which + all the Blues were wild about, she was an audacious flirt, a girl up to + anything; and in the morning, at low tide, she might be seen, with her + legs and feet bare, among the children, of whom there were many on the + sands, digging ditches, making ramparts, constructing towers and + fortifications in wet sand, herself as much amused as if she had been one + of the babies themselves. There was screaming and jumping, and rushing out + of reach of the waves which came up ready to overthrow the most + complicated labors of the little architects, rough romping of all kinds, + enough to amaze and disconcert a lover. + </p> + <p> + But no one could have guessed at the thoughts which, in the midst of all + this fun and frolic, were passing through the too early ripened mind of + Jacqueline. She was thinking that many things to which we attach great + value and importance in this world are as easily swept away as the sand + barriers raised against the sea by childish hands; that everywhere there + must be flux and reflux, that the beach the children had so dug up would + soon become smooth as a mirror, ready for other little ones to dig it over + again, tempting them to work, and yet discouraging their industry. Her + heart, she thought, was like the sand, ready for new impressions. The + elegant form of M. de Cymier slightly overshadowed it, distinct among + other shadows more confused. + </p> + <p> + And Jacqueline said to herself with a smile, exactly what her father and + Madame de Nailles had said to each other: + </p> + <p> + “Countess!—who knows? Ambassadress! Perhaps—some day—” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0008" id="link2HCH0008"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER VIII. A PUZZLING CORRESPONDENCE + </h2> + <p> + “But I can not see any reason why we should not take Jacqueline with us to + Italy. She is just of an age to profit by it.” + </p> + <p> + These words were spoken by M. de Nailles after a long silence at the + breakfast-table. They startled his hearers like a bomb. + </p> + <p> + Jacqueline waited to hear what would come next, fixing a keen look upon + her stepmother. Their eyes met like the flash of two swords. + </p> + <p> + The eyes of the one said: “Now, let us hear what you will answer!” while + the other strove to maintain that calmness which comes to some people in a + moment of danger. The Baroness grew a little pale, and then said, in her + softest tones: + </p> + <p> + “You are quite right, ‘mon ami’, but Jacqueline, I think, prefers to + stay.” + </p> + <p> + “I decidedly prefer to stay,” said Jacqueline. + </p> + <p> + Her adversary, much relieved by this response, could not repress a sigh. + </p> + <p> + “It seems singular,” said M. de Nailles. + </p> + <p> + “What! that I prefer to pass a month or six weeks with Madame d’Argy? + Besides, Giselle is going to be married during that time.” + </p> + <p> + “They might put it off until we come back, I should suppose.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh! I don’t think they would,” cried the Baroness. “Madame de Monredon is + so selfish. She was offended to think we should talk of going away on the + eve of an event she considers so important. Besides, she has so little + regard for me that I should think her more likely to hasten the + wedding-day rather than retard it, if it were only for the pleasure of + giving us a lesson.” + </p> + <p> + “I am sorry. I should have been glad to be, as she wished, one of + Giselle’s witnesses, but people don’t take my position into consideration. + If I do not take advantage of the recess—” + </p> + <p> + “Besides,” interrupted Jacqueline, carelessly, “your journey must coincide + with that of Monsieur Marien.” + </p> + <p> + She had the pleasure of seeing her stepmother again slightly change color. + Madame de Nailles was pouring out for herself a cup of tea with singular + care and attention. + </p> + <p> + “Of course,” said M. de Nailles. His daughter pitied him, and cried, with + an increasing wish to annoy her stepmother: “Mamma, don’t you see that + your teapot has no tea in it? Yes,” she went on, “it must be delightful to + travel in Italy in company with a great artist who would explain + everything; but then one would be expected to visit all the + picture-galleries, and I hate pictures, since—” + </p> + <p> + She paused and again looked meaningly at her stepmother, whose soft blue + eyes showed anguish of spirit, and seemed to say: “Oh, what a cruel hold + she has upon me!” Jacqueline continued, carelessly—“Picture-galleries + I don’t care for—I like nature a hundred times better. Some day I + should like to take a journey to suit myself, my own journey! Oh, papa, + may I? A journey on foot with you in the Tyrol?” + </p> + <p> + Madame de Nailles was no great walker. + </p> + <p> + “Both of us, just you and I alone, with our alpenstocks in our hands—it + would be lovely! But Italy and painters—” + </p> + <p> + Here, with a boyish flourish of her hands, she seemed to send that classic + land to Jericho! + </p> + <p> + “Do promise me, papa!” + </p> + <p> + “Before asking a reward, you must deserve it,” said her father, severely, + who saw something was wrong. + </p> + <p> + During her stay at Lizerolles, which her perverseness, her resentment, and + a repugnance founded on instincts of delicacy, had made her prefer to a + journey to Italy, Jacqueline, having nothing better to do, took it into + her head to write to her friend Fred. The young man received three letters + at three different ports in the Mediterranean and in the West Indies, + whose names were long associated in his mind with delightful and cruel + recollections. When the first was handed to him with one from his mother, + whose letters always awaited him at every stopping-place, the blood flew + to his face, his heart beat violently, he could have cried aloud but for + the necessity of self-command in the presence of his comrades, who had + already remarked in whispers to each other, and with envy, on the pink + envelope, which exhaled ‘l’odor di femina’. He hid his treasure quickly, + and carried it to a spot where he could be alone; then he kissed the bold, + pointed handwriting that he recognized at once, though never before had it + written his address. He kissed, too, more than once, the pink seal with a + J on it, whose slender elegance reminded him of its owner. Hardly did he + dare to break the seal; then forgetting altogether, as we might be sure, + his mother’s letter, which he knew beforehand was full of good advice and + expressions of affection, he eagerly read this, which he had not expected + to receive: + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “LIZEROLLES, October, 5, 188- + + “MY DEAR FRED: + + “Your mother thinks you would be pleased to receive a letter from + me, and I hope you will be. You need not answer this if you do not + care to do so. You will notice, ‘par parenthese’, that I take this + opportunity of saying you and not thou to you. It is easier to + change the familiar mode of address in writing than in speaking, and + when we meet again the habit will have become confirmed. But, as I + write, it will require great attention, and I can not promise to + keep to it to the end. Half an hour’s chat with an old friend will + also help me to pass the time, which I own seems rather long, as it + is passed by your sweet, dear mother and myself at Lizerolles. Oh, + if you were only here it would be different! In the first place, + we should talk less of a certain Fred, which would be one great + advantage. You must know that you are the subject of our discourse + from morning to night; we talk only of the dangers of the seas, the + future prospects of a seaman, and all the rest of it. If the wind + is a little higher than usual, your mother begins to cry; she is + sure you are battling with a tempest. If any fishing-boat is + wrecked, we talk of nothing but shipwrecks; and I am asked to join + in another novena, in addition to those with which we must have + already wearied Notre Dame de Treport. Every evening we spread out + the map: ‘See, Jacqueline, he must be here now—no, he is almost + there,’ and lines of red ink are traced from one port to another, + and little crosses are made to show the places where we hope you + will get your letters—‘Poor boy, poor, dear boy!’ In short, + notwithstanding all the affectionate interest I take in you, this is + sometimes too much for me. In fact, I think I must be very fond of + thee not to have grown positively to hate thee for all this fuss. + There! In this last sentence, instead of saying you, I have said + thee! That ought to gild the pill for you! + + “We do not go very frequently to visit Treport, except to invoke for + you the protection of Heaven, and I like it just as well, for since + the last fortnight in September, which was very rainy, the beach is + dismal—so different from what it was in the summer. The town looks + gloomy under a cloudy sky with its blackened old brick houses! We + are better off at Lizerolles, whose autumnal beauties you know so + well that I will say nothing about them.—Oh, Fred, how often I + regret that I am not a boy! I could take your gun and go shooting + in the swamps, where there are clouds of ducks now. I feel sure + that if you were in my place, you could kill time without killing + game; but I am at the end of my small resources when I have played a + little on the piano to amuse your mother and have read her the + ‘Gazette de France’. In the evening we read a translation of some + English novel. There are neighbors, of course, old fogies who stay + all the year round in Picardy—but, tell me, don’t you find them + sometimes a little too respectable? My greatest comfort is in your + dog, who loves me as much as if I were his master, though I can not + take him out shooting. While I write he is lying on the hem of my + gown and makes a little noise, as much as to tell me that I recall + you to his remembrance. Yet you are not to suppose that I am + suffering from ennui, or am ungrateful, nor above all must you + imagine that I have ceased to love your excellent mother with all my + heart. I love her, on the contrary, more than ever since I passed + this winter through a great, great sorrow—a sorrow which is now + only a sad remembrance, but which has changed for me the face of + everything in this world. Yes, since I have suffered myself, I + understand your mother. I admire her, I love her more than ever. + + “How happy you are, my dear Fred, to have such a sweet mother,— + a real mother who never thinks about her face, or her figure, or her + age, but only of the success of her son; a dear little mother in a + plain black gown, and with pretty gray hair, who has the manners and + the toilette that just suit her, who somehow always seems to say: + ‘I care for nothing but that which affects my son.’ Such mothers are + rare, believe me. Those that I know, the mothers of my friends, are + for the most part trying to appear as young as their daughters—nay, + prettier, and of course more elegant. When they have sons they make + them wear jackets a l’anglaise and turn-down collars, up to the age + when I wore short skirts. Have you noticed that nowadays in Paris + there are only ladies who are young, or who are trying to make + themselves appear so? Up to the last moment they powder and paint, + and try to make themselves different from what age has made them. + If their hair was black it grows blacker—if red, it is more red. + But there is no longer any gray hair in Paris—it is out of fashion. + That is the reason why I think your mother’s pretty silver curls so + lovely and ‘distingues’. I kiss them every night for you, after I + have kissed them for myself. + + “Have a good voyage, come back soon, and take care of yourself, dear + Fred.” + </pre> + <p> + The young sailor read this letter over and over again. The more he read it + the more it puzzled him. Most certainly he felt that Jacqueline gave him a + great proof of confidence when she spoke to him of some mysterious + unhappiness, an unhappiness of which it was evident her stepmother was the + cause. He could see that much; but he was infinitely far from suspecting + the nature of the woes to which she alluded. Poor Jacqueline! He pitied + her without knowing what for, with a great outburst of sympathy, and an + honest desire to do anything in the world to make her happy. Was it really + possible that she could have been enduring any grief that summer when she + had seemed so madly gay, so ready for a little flirtation? Young girls + must be very skilful in concealing their inmost feelings! When he was + unhappy he had it out by himself, he took refuge in solitude, he wanted to + be done with existence. Everybody knew when anything went wrong with him. + Why could not Jacqueline have let him know more plainly what it was that + troubled her, and why could she not have shown a little tenderness toward + him, instead of assuming, even when she said the kindest things to him, + her air of mockery? And then, though she might pretend not to find + Lizerolles stupid, he could see that she was bored there. Yet why had she + chosen to stay at Lizerolles rather than go to Italy? + </p> + <p> + Alas! how that little pink letter made him reflect and guess, and turn + things over in his mind, and wish himself at the devil—that little + pink letter which he carried day and night on his breast and made it + crackle as it lay there, when he laid his hand on the satin folds so near + his heart! It had an odor of sweet violets which seemed to him to + overpower the smell of pitch and of salt water, to fill the air, to + perfume everything. + </p> + <p> + “That young fellow has the instincts of a sailor,” said his superior + officers when they saw him standing in attitudes which they thought + denoted observation, though with him it was only reverie. He would stand + with his eyes fixed upon some distant point, whence he fancied he could + see emerging from the waves a small, brown, shining head, with long hair + streaming behind, the head of a girl swimming, a girl he knew so well. + </p> + <p> + “One can see that he takes an interest in nautical phenomena, that he is + heart and soul in his profession, that he cares for nothing else. Oh, + he’ll make a sailor! We may be sure of that!” + </p> + <p> + Fred sent his young friend and cousin, by way of reply, a big packet of + manuscript, the leaves of which were of all sizes, over which he had + poured forth torrents of poetry, amorous and descriptive, under the title: + At Sea. + </p> + <p> + Never would he have dared to show her this if the ocean had not lain + between them. He was frightened when his packet had been sent. His only + comfort was in the thought that he had hypocritically asked Jacqueline for + her literary opinion of his verses; but she could not fail, he thought, to + understand. + </p> + <p> + Long before an answer could have been expected, he got another letter, + sky-blue this time, much longer than the first, giving him an account of + Giselle’s wedding. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “Your mother and I went together to Normandy, where the marriage was + to take place after the manner of old times, ‘in the fashion of the + Middle Ages,’ as our friends the Wermants said to me, who might + perhaps not have laughed at it had they been invited. Madame de + Monredon is all for old customs, and she had made it a great point + that the wedding should not take place in Paris. Had I been + Giselle, I should not have liked it. I know nothing more elegant or + more solemn than the entrance of a bridal party into the Madeleine, + but we shall have to be content with Saint-Augustin. Still, the + toilettes, as they pass up the aisle, even there, are very + effective, and the decoration of the tall, high altar is + magnificent. Toc! Toc! First come the beadles with their + halberds, then the loud notes of the organ, then the wide doors are + thrown open, making a noise as they turn on their great hinges, + letting the noise of carriages outside be heard in the church; and + then comes the bride in a ray of sunshine. I could wish for nothing + more. A grand wedding in the country is much more quiet, but it is + old-fashioned. In the little village church the guests were very + much crowded, and outside there was a great mob of country folk. + Carpets had been laid down over the dilapidated pavement, composed + principally of tombstones. The rough walls were hung with scarlet. + All the clergy of the neighborhood were present. A Monsignor— + related to the Talbruns—pronounced the nuptial benediction; his + address was a panegyric on the two families. He gave us to + understand that if he did not go back quite as far as the Crusades, + it was only because time was wanting. + + “Madame de Monredon was all-glorious, of course. She certainly + looked like an old vulture, in a pelisse of gray velvet, with a + chinchilla boa round her long, bare neck, and her big beak, with + marabouts overshadowing it, of the same color. Monsieur de Talbrun + —well! Monsieur de Talbrun was very bald, as bald as he could be. + To make up for the want of hair on his head, he has plenty of it on + his hands. It is horrid, and it makes him look like an animal. You + have no idea how queer he looked when he sat down, with his big, + pink head just peeping over the back of the crimson velvet chair, + which was, however, almost as tall as he is. He is short, you may + remember. As to our poor Giselle, the prettiest persons sometimes + look badly as brides, and those who are not pretty look ugly. Do + you recollect that picture—by Velasquez, is it not? of a fair + little Infanta stiffly swathed in cloth of gold, as becomes her + dignity, and looking crushed by it? Giselle’s gown was of point + d’Alencon, old family lace as yellow as ancient parchment, but of + inestimable value. Her long corsage, made in the fashion of Anne of + Austria, looked on her like a cuirass, and she dragged after her, + somewhat awkwardly, a very long train, which impeded her movement as + she walked. A lace veil, as hereditary and time-worn as the gown, + but which had been worn by all the Monredons at their weddings, the + present dowager’s included, hid the pretty, light hair of our dear + little friend, and was supported by a sort of heraldic comb and some + orange-flowers; in short, you can not imagine anything more heavy or + more ugly. Poor Giselle, loaded down with it, had red eyes, a face + of misery, and the air of a martyr. For all this her grandmother + scolded her sharply, which of course did not mend matters. ‘Du + reste’, she seemed absorbed in prayer or thought during the + ceremony, in which I took up the offerings, by the way, with a young + lieutenant of dragoons just out of the military school at Saint Cyr: + a uniform always looks well on such occasions. Nor was Monsieur de + Talbrun one of those lukewarm Christians who hear mass with their + arms crossed and their noses in the air. He pulled a jewelled + prayerbook out of his pocket, which Giselle had given him. Speaking + of presents, those he gave her were superb: pearls as big as + hazelnuts, a ruby heart that was a marvel, a diamond crescent that I + am afraid she will never wear with such an air as it deserves, and + two strings of diamonds ‘en riviere’, which I should suppose she + would have reset, for rivieres are no longer in fashion. The stones + are enormous. + + “But, poor dear! she could care little for such things. All she + wanted was to get back as quickly as she could into her usual + clothes. She said to me, again and again: ‘Pray God for me that I + may be a good wife. I am so afraid I may not be. To belong to + Monsieur de Talbrun in this world, and in the next; to give up + everything for him, seems so extraordinary. Indeed, I think I + hardly knew what I was promising.’ I felt sorry for her; I kissed + her. I was ready to cry myself, and poor Giselle went on: ‘If you + knew, dear, how I love you! how I love all my friends! really to + love, people must have been brought up together—must have always + known each other.’ I don’t think she was right, but everybody has + his or her ideas about such things. I tried, by way of consoling + her, to draw her attention to the quantities of presents she had + received. They were displayed on several tables in the smaller + drawing-room, but her grandmother would not let them put the name of + the giver upon each, as is the present custom. She said that it + humiliated those who had not been able to make gifts as expensive as + others. She is right, when one comes to think of it. Nor would she + let the trousseau be displayed; she did not think it proper, but I + saw enough to know that there were marvels in linen, muslin, silks, + and surahs, covered all over with lace. One could see that the + great mantua-maker had not consulted the grandmother, who says that + women of distinction in her day did not wear paltry trimmings. + + “Dinner was served under a tent for all the village people during + the two mortal hours we had to spend over a repast, in which Madame + de Monredon’s cook excelled himself. Then came complimentary + addresses in the old-fashioned style, composed by the village + schoolmaster who, for a wonder, knew what he was about; groups of + village children, boys and girls, came bringing their offerings, + followed by pet lambs decked with ribbons; it was all in the style + of the days of Madame de Genlis. While we danced in the salons + there was dancing in the barn, which had been decorated for the + occasion. In short; lords and ladies and laborers all seemed to + enjoy themselves, or made believe they did. The Parisian gentlemen + who danced were not very numerous. There were a few friends of + Monsieur de Talbrun’s, however—among them, a Monsieur de Cymier, + whom possibly you remember having seen last summer at Treport; he + led the cotillon divinely. The bride and bridegroom drove away + during the evening, as they do in England, to their own house, which + is not far off. Monsieur de Talbrun’s horses—a magnificent pair, + harnessed to a new ‘caleche’—carried off Psyche, as an old + gentleman in gold spectacles said near me. He was a pretentious old + personage, who made a speech at table, very inappropriate and much + applauded. Poor Giselle! I have not seen her since, but she has + written me one of those little notes which, when she was in the + convent, she used to sign Enfant de Marie. It begged me again to + pray earnestly for her that she might not fail in the fulfilment of + her new duties. It seems hard, does it not? Let us hope that + Monsieur de Talbrun, on his part, may not find that his new life + rather wearies him! Do you know what should have been Giselle’s + fate—since she has a mania about people being thoroughly acquainted + before marriage? What would two or three years more or less have + mattered? She would have made an admirable wife for a sailor; she + would have spent the months of your absence kneeling before the + altar; she would have multiplied the lamentations and the + tendernesses of your excellent mother. I have been thinking this + ever since the wedding-day—a very sad day, after all. + + “But how I have let my pen run on. I shall have to put on two + stamps, notwithstanding my thin paper. But then you have plenty of + time to read on board-ship, and this account may amuse you. Make + haste and thank me for it. + + “Your old friend, + + “JACQUELINE.” + </pre> + <p> + Amuse him! How could he be amused by so great an insult? What! thank her + for giving him over even in thought to Giselle or to anybody? Oh, how + wicked, how ungrateful, how unworthy! + </p> + <p> + The six pages of foreign-post paper were crumpled up by his angry fingers. + Fred tore them with his teeth, and finally made them into a ball which he + flung into the sea, hating himself for having been so foolish as to let + himself be caught by the first lines, as a foolish fish snaps at the bait, + when, apropos to the church in which she would like to be married, she had + added “But we should have to be content with Saint-Augustin.” + </p> + <p> + Those words had delighted him as if they had really been meant for himself + and Jacqueline. This promise for the future, that seemed to escape + involuntarily from her pen, had made him find all the rest of her letter + piquant and amusing. As he read, his mind had reverted to that little + phrase which he now found he had interpreted wrongly. What a fall! How his + hopes now crumbled under his feet! She must have done it on purpose—but + no, he need not blacken her! She had written without thought, without + purpose, in high spirits; she wanted to be witty, to be droll, to write + gossip without any reference to him to whom her letter was addressed. That + we who some day would make a triumphal entry into St. Augustin would be + herself and some other man—some man with whom her acquaintance had + been short, since she did not seem to feel in that matter like Giselle. + Some one she did not yet know? Was that sure? She might know her future + husband already, even now she might have made her choice—Marcel + d’Etaples, perhaps, who looked so well in uniform, or that M. de Cymier, + who led the cotillon so divinely. Yes! No doubt it was he—the + last-comer. And once more Fred suffered all the pangs of jealousy. It + seemed to him that in his loneliness, between sky and sea, those pangs + were more acute than he had ever known them. His comrades teased him about + his melancholy looks, and made him the butt of all their jokes in the + cockpit. He resolved, however, to get over it, and at the next port they + put into, Jacqueline’s letter was the cause of his entering for the first + time some discreditable scenes of dissipation. + </p> + <p> + At Bermuda he received another letter, dated from Paris, where Jacqueline + had rejoined her parents, who had returned from Italy. She sent him a + commission. Would he buy her a riding-whip? Bermuda was renowned for its + horsewhips, and her father had decided that she must go regularly to the + riding-school. They seemed anxious now to give her, as preliminary to her + introduction into society, not only such pleasures as horseback exercise, + but intellectual enjoyment also. She had been taken to the Institute to + hear M. Legouve, and what was better still, in December her stepmother + would give a little party every fortnight and would let her sit up till + eleven o’clock. She was also to be taken to make some calls. In short, she + felt herself rising in importance, but the first thing that had made her + feel so was Fred’s choice of her to be his literary confidant. She was + greatly obliged to him, and did not know how she could better prove to him + that she was worthy of so great an honor than by telling him quite frankly + just what she thought of his verses. They were very, very pretty. He had + talent—great talent. Only, as in attending the classes of M. Regis + she had acquired some little knowledge of the laws of versification, she + would like to warn him against impairing a thought for the benefit of a + rhyme, and she pointed out several such places in his compositions, ending + thus: + </p> + <p> + “Bravo! for sunsets, for twilights, for moonshine, for deep silence, for + starry nights, and silvery seas—in such things you excel; one feels + as if one were there, and one envies you the fairy scenes of ocean. But, I + implore you, be not sentimental. That is the feeble part of your poetry, + to my thinking, and spoils the rest. By the way, I should like to ask you + whose are those soft eyes, that silky hair, that radiant smile, and all + that assortment of amber, jet, and coral occurring so often in your + visions? Is she—or rather, are they—black, yellow, green, or + tattooed, for, of course, you have met everywhere beauties of all colors? + Several times when it appeared as if the lady of your dreams were white, I + fancied you were drawing a portrait of Isabelle Ray. All the girls, your + old friends, to whom I have shown At Sea, send you their compliments, to + which I join my own. Each of them will beg you to write her a sonnet; but + first of all, in virtue of our ancient friendship, I want one myself. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “JACQUELINE.” + </pre> + <p> + So! she had shown to others what was meant for her alone; what + profanation! And what was more abominable, she had not recognized that he + was speaking of herself. Ah! there was nothing to be done now but to + forget her. Fred tried to do so conscientiously during all his cruise in + the Atlantic, but the moment he got ashore and had seen Jacqueline, he + fell again a victim to her charms. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0009" id="link2HCH0009"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER IX. BEAUTY AT THE FAIR + </h2> + <p> + She was more beautiful than ever, and her first exclamation on seeing him + was intended to be flattering: “Ah! Fred, how much you have improved! But + what a change! What an extraordinary change! Why, look at him! He is still + himself, but who would have thought it was Fred!” + </p> + <p> + He was not disconcerted, for he had acquired aplomb in his journeys round + the globe, but he gave her a glance of sad reproach, while Madame de + Nailles said, quietly: + </p> + <p> + “Yes, really—How are you, Fred? The tan on your face is very + becoming to you. You have broadened at the shoulders, and are now a man—something + more than a man, an experienced sailor, almost an old seadog.” + </p> + <p> + And she laughed, but only softly, because a frank laugh would have shown + little wrinkles under her eyes and above her cheeks, which were getting + too large. + </p> + <p> + Her toilette, which was youthful, yet very carefully adapted to her + person, showed that she was by no means as yet “laid on the shelf,” as + Raoul Wermant elegantly said of her. She stood up, leaning over a table + covered with toys, which it was her duty to sell at the highest price + possible, for the place of a meeting so full of emotions for Fred was a + charity bazaar. + </p> + <p> + The moment he arrived in Paris the young officer had been, so to speak, + seized by the collar. He had found a great glazed card, bidding him to + attend this fair, in a fashionable quarter, and forthwith he had forgotten + his resolution of not going near the Nailles for a long time. + </p> + <p> + “This is not the same thing,” he said to himself. “One must not let one’s + self be supposed to be stingy.” So with these thoughts he went to the + bazaar, very glad in his secret heart to have an excuse for breaking his + resolution. + </p> + <p> + The fair was for the benefit of sufferers from a fire—somewhere or + other. In our day multitudes of people fall victims to all kinds of + dreadful disasters, explosions of boilers, explosions of fire-damp, of + everything that can explode, for the agents of destruction seem to be in a + state of unnatural excitement as well as human beings. Never before, + perhaps, have inanimate things seemed so much in accordance with the + spirit of the times. Fred found a superb placard, the work of Cheret, a + pathetic scene in a mine, banners streaming in the air, with the words + ‘Bazar de Charite’ in gold letters on a red ground, and the courtyard of + the mansion where the fair was held filled with more carriages than one + sees at a fashionable wedding. In the vestibule many footmen were in + attendance, the chasseurs of an Austrian ambassador, the great hulking + fellows of the English embassy, the gray-liveried servants of old + Rozenkranz, with their powdered heads, the negro man belonging to Madame + Azucazillo, etc., etc. At each arrival there was a frou-frou of satin and + lace, and inside the sales room was a hubbub like the noise in an aviary. + Fred, finding himself at once in the full stream of Parisian life, but for + the moment not yet part of it, indulged in some of those philosophic + reflections to which he had been addicted on shipboard. + </p> + <p> + Each of the tables showed something of the tastes, the character, the + peculiarities of the lady who had it in charge. Madame Sterny, who had the + most beautiful hands in the world, had undertaken to sell gloves, being + sure that the gentlemen would be eager to buy if she would only consent to + try them on; Madame de Louisgrif, the ‘chanoiness’, whose extreme + emaciation was not perceived under a sort of ecclesiastical cape, had an + assortment of embroideries and objects of devotion, intended only for + ladies—and indeed for only the most serious among them; for the + table that held umbrellas, parasols and canes suited to all ages and both + sexes, a good, upright little lady had been chosen. Her only thought was + how much money she could make by her sales. Madame Strahlberg, the oldest + of the Odinskas, obviously expected to sell only to gentlemen; her table + held pyramids of cigars and cigarettes, but nothing else was in the corner + where she presided, supple and frail, not handsome, but far more dangerous + than if she had been, with her unfathomable way of looking at you with her + light eyes set deep under her eyebrows, eyes that she kept half closed, + but which were yet so keen, and the cruel smile that showed her little + sharp teeth. Her dress was of black grenadine embroidered with silver. She + wore half mourning as a sort of announcement that she was a widow, in + hopes that this might put a stop to any wicked gossip which should assert + that Count Strahlberg was still living, having got a divorce and been very + glad to get it. Yet people talked about her, but hardly knew what to bring + against her, because, though anything might be suspected, nothing was + known. She was received and even sought after in the best society, on + account of her wonderful talents, which she employed in a manner as + perverse as everything else about her, but which led some people to call + her the ‘Judic des salons’. Wanda Strahlberg was now holding between her + lips, which were artificially red, in contrast to the greenish paleness of + her face, which caused others to call her a vampire, one of the cigarettes + she had for sale. With one hand, she was playing, graceful as a cat, with + her last package of regalias, tied with green ribbon, which, when offered + to the highest bidder, brought an enormous sum. Her sister Colette was + selling flowers, like several other young girls, but while for the most + part these waited on their customers in silence, she was full of lively + talk, and as unblushing in her eagerness to sell as a ‘bouquetiere’ by + profession. She had grown dangerously pretty. Fred was dazzled when she + wanted to fasten a rose into his buttonhole, and then, as he paid for it, + gave him another, saying: “And here is another thrown in for old + acquaintance’ sake.” + </p> + <p> + “Charity seems to cover many things,” thought the young man as he withdrew + from her smiles and her glances, but yet he had seen nothing so attractive + among the black, yellow, green or tattooed ladies about whom Jacqueline + had been pleased to tease him. + </p> + <p> + “Fred!” + </p> + <p> + It was Jacqueline’s voice that arrested him. It was sharp and almost + angry. She, too, was selling flowers, while at the same time she was + helping Madame de Nailles with her toys; but she was selling with that + decorum and graceful reserve which custom prescribes for young girls. + “Fred, I do hope you will wear no roses but mine. Those you have are + frightful. They make you look like a village bridegroom. Take out those + things; come! Here is a pretty boutonniere, and I will fasten it much + better in your buttonhole—let me.” + </p> + <p> + In vain did he try to seem cold to her; his heart thawed in spite of + himself. She held him so charmingly by the lapel of his coat, touching his + cheek with the tip end of an aigrette which set so charmingly on the top + of the most becoming of fur caps which she wore. Her hair was turned up + now, showing her beautiful neck, and he could see little rebellious hairs + curling at their own will over her pure, soft skin, while she, bending + forward, was engaged in his service. He admired, too, her slender waist, + only recently subjected to the restraint of a corset. He forgave her on + the spot. At this moment a man with brown hair, tall, elegant, and with + his moustache turned up at the ends, after the old fashion of the Valois, + revived recently, came hurriedly up to the table of Madame de Nailles. + Fred felt that that inimitable moustache reduced his not yet abundant + beard to nothing. + </p> + <p> + “Mademoiselle Jacqueline,” said the newcomer, “Madame de Villegry has sent + me to beg you to help her at the buffet. She can not keep pace with her + customers, and is asking for volunteers.” + </p> + <p> + All this was uttered with a familiar assurance which greatly shocked the + young naval man. + </p> + <p> + “You permit me, Madame?” + </p> + <p> + The Baroness bowed with a smile, which said, had he chosen to interpret + it, “I give you permission to carry her off now—and forever, if you + wish it.” + </p> + <p> + At that moment she was placing in the half-unwilling arms of Hubert Marien + an enormous rubber balloon and a jumping-jack, in return for five Louis + which he had laid humbly on her table. But Jacqueline had not waited for + her stepmother’s permission; she let herself be borne off radiant on the + arm of the important personage who had come for her, while Colette, who + perhaps had remarked the substitution for her two roses, whispered in + Fred’s ear, in atone of great significance “Monsieur de Cymier.” + </p> + <p> + The poor fellow started, like a man suddenly awakened from a happy dream + to face the most unwelcome of realities. Impelled by that natural longing, + that we all have, to know the worst, he went toward the buffet, affecting + a calmness which it cost him a great effort to maintain. As he went along + he mechanically gave money to each of the ladies whom he knew, moving off + without waiting for their thanks or stopping to choose anything from their + tables. He seemed to feel the floor rock under his feet, as if he had been + walking the deck of a vessel. At last he reached a recess decorated with + palms, where, in a robe worthy of ‘Peau d’Ane’ in the story, and + absolutely a novelty in the world of fashions robe all embroidered with + gold and rubies, which glittered with every movement made by the wearer—Madame + de Villegry was pouring out Russian tea and Spanish chocolate and Turkish + coffee, while all kinds of deceitful promises of favor shone in her eyes, + which wore a certain tenderness expressive of her interest in charity. A + party of young nymphs formed the court of this fair goddess, doing their + best to lend her their aid. Jacqueline was one of them, and, at the moment + Fred approached, she was offering, with the tips of her fingers, a glass + of champagne to M. de Cymier, who at the same time was eagerly trying to + persuade her to believe something, about which she was gayly laughing, + while she shook her head. Poor Fred, that he might hear, and suffer, drank + two mouthfuls of sherry which he could hardly swallow. + </p> + <p> + “One who was really charitable would not hesitate,” said M. de Cymier, + “especially when every separate hair would be paid for if you chose. Just + one little curl—for the sake of the poor. It is very often done: + anything is allowable for the sake of the poor.” + </p> + <p> + “Maybe it is because, as you say, that it is very often done that I shall + not do it,” said Jacqueline, still laughing. “I have made up my mind never + to do what others have done before me.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, we shall see,” said M. de Cymier, pretending to threaten her. + </p> + <p> + And her young head was thrown back in a burst of inextinguishable + laughter. + </p> + <p> + Fred fled, that he might not be tempted to make a disturbance. When he + found himself again in the street, he asked himself where he should go. + His anger choked him; he felt he could not keep his resentment to himself, + and yet, however angry he might be with Jacqueline, he would have been + unwilling to hear his mother give utterance to the very sentiments that he + was feeling, or to harsh judgments, of which he preferred to keep the + monopoly. It came into his mind that he would pay a little visit to + Giselle, who, of all the people he knew, was the least likely to provoke a + quarrel. He had heard that Madame de Talbrun did not go out, being + confined to her sofa by much suffering, which, it might be hoped, would + soon come to an end; and the certainty that he should find her if he + called at once decided him. Since he had been in Paris he had done nothing + but leave cards. This time, however, he was sure that the lady upon whom + he called would be at home. He was taken at once into the young wife’s + boudoir, where he found her very feeble, lying back upon her cushions, + alone, and working at some little bits of baby-clothes. He was not slow to + perceive that she was very glad to see him. She flushed with pleasure as + he came into the room, and, dropping her sewing, held out to him two + little, thin hands, white as wax. “Take that footstool—sit down + there—what a great, great pleasure it is to see you back again!” She + was more expansive than she had been formerly; she had gained a certain + ease which comes from intercourse with the world, but how delicate she + seemed! Fred for a moment looked at her in silence, she seemed so changed + as she lay there in a loose robe of pale blue cashmere, whose train drawn + over her feet made her look tall as it stretched to the end of the gilded + couch, round which Giselle had collected all the little things required by + an invalid—bottles, boxes, work-bag, dressing-case, and writing + materials. + </p> + <p> + “You see,” she said, with her soft smile, “I have plenty to occupy me, and + I venture to be proud of my work and to think I am creating marvels.” + </p> + <p> + As she spoke she turned round on her closed hand a cap that seemed + microscopic to Fred. + </p> + <p> + “What!” he cried, “do you expect him to be small enough to wear that!” + </p> + <p> + “Him! you said him; and I am sure you will be right. I know it will be a + boy,” replied Giselle, eagerly, her fair face brightened by these words. + “I have some that are still smaller. Look!” and she lifted up a pile of + things trimmed with ribbons and embroidery. “See; these are the first! Ah! + I lie here and fancy how he will look when he has them on. He will be + sweet enough to eat. Only his papa wants us to give him a name that I + think is too long for him, because it has always been in the family—Enguerrand.” + </p> + <p> + “His name will be longer than himself, I should say, judging by the + dimensions of this cap,” said Fred, trying to laugh. + </p> + <p> + “Bah!” replied Giselle, gayly, “but we can get over it by calling him + Gue-gue or Ra-ra. What do you think? The difficulty is that names of that + kind are apt to stick to a boy for fifty years, and then they seem + ridiculous. Now a pretty abbreviation like Fred is another matter. But I + forget they have brought up my chocolate. Please ring, and let them bring + you a cup. We will take our luncheon together, as we used to do.” + </p> + <p> + “Thank you, I have no appetite. I have just come from a certain buffet + where I lost it all.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh! I suppose you have been to the Bazaar—the famous Charity Fair! + You must have made a sensation there on your return, for I am told that + the gentlemen who are expected to spend the most are likely to send their + money, and not to show themselves. There are many complaints of it.” + </p> + <p> + “There were plenty of men round certain persons,” replied Fred, dryly. + “Madame de Villegry’s table was literally besieged.” + </p> + <p> + “Really! What, hers! You surprise me! So it was the good things she gave + you that make you despise my poor chocolate,” said Giselle, rising on her + elbow, to receive the smoking cup that a servant brought her on a little + silver salver. + </p> + <p> + “I didn’t take much at her table,” said Fred, ready to enter on his + grievances. “If you wish to know the reason why, I was too indignant to + eat or drink.” + </p> + <p> + “Indignant?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, the word is not at all too strong. When one has passed whole months + away from what is unwholesome and artificial, such things as make up life + in Paris, one becomes a little like Alceste, Moliere’s misanthrope, when + one gets back to them. It is ridiculous at my age, and yet if I were to + tell you—” + </p> + <p> + “What?—you puzzle me. What can there be that is unwholesome in + selling things for the poor?” + </p> + <p> + “The poor! A pretty pretext! Was it to benefit the poor that that odious + Countess Strahlberg made all those disreputable grimaces? I have seen + kermesses got up by actresses, and, upon my word, they were good form in + comparison.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh! Countess Strahlberg! People have heard about her doings until they + are tired of them,” said Giselle, with that air of knowing everything + assumed by a young wife whose husband has told her all the current + scandals, as a sort of initiation. + </p> + <p> + “And her sister seems likely to be as bad as herself before long.” + </p> + <p> + “Poor Colette! She has been so badly brought up. It is not her fault.” + </p> + <p> + “But there’s Jacqueline,” cried Fred, in a sudden outburst, and already + feeling better because he could mention her name. + </p> + <p> + “Allons, donc! You don’t mean to say anything against Jacqueline?” cried + Giselle, clasping her hands with an air of astonishment. “What can she + have done to scandalize you—poor little dear?” + </p> + <p> + Fred paused for half a minute, then he drew the stool in the form of an X, + on which he was sitting, a little nearer to Giselle’s sofa, and, lowering + his voice, told her how Jacqueline had acted under his very eyes. As he + went on, watching as he spoke the effect his words produced upon Giselle, + who listened as if slightly amused by his indignation, the case seemed not + nearly so bad as he had supposed, and a delicious sense of relief crept + over him when she to whom he told his wrongs after hearing him quietly to + the end, said, smiling: + </p> + <p> + “And what then? There is no great harm in all that. Would you have had her + refuse to go with the gentleman Madame de Villegry had sent to fetch her? + And why, may I ask, should she not have done her best to help by pouring + out champagne? An air put on to please is indispensable to a woman, if she + wishes to sell anything. Good Heavens! I don’t approve any more than you + do of all these worldly forms of charity, but this kind of thing is + considered right; it has come into fashion. Jacqueline had the permission + of her parents, and I really can’t see any good reason why you should + complain of her. Unless—why not tell me the whole truth, Fred? I + know it—don’t we always know what concerns the people that we care + for? And I might possibly some day be of use to you. Say! don’t you think + you are—a little bit jealous?” + </p> + <p> + Less encouragement than this would have sufficed to make him open his + heart to Giselle. He was delighted that some woman was willing he should + confide in her. And what was more, he was glad to have it proved that he + had been all wrong. A quarter of an hour later Giselle had comforted him, + happy herself that it had been in her power to undertake a task of + consolation, a work in which, with sweet humility, she felt herself at + ease. On the great stage of life she knew now she should never play any + important part, any that would bring her greatly into view. But she felt + that she was made to be a confidant, one of those perfect confidants who + never attempt to interfere rashly with the course of events, but who wait + upon the ways of Providence, removing stones, and briers and thorns, and + making everything turn out for the best in the end. Jacqueline, she said, + was so young! A little wild, perhaps, but what a treasure! She was all + heart! She would need a husband worthy of her, such a man as Fred. Madame + d’Argy, she knew, had already said something on the subject to her father. + But it would have to be the Baroness that Fred must bring over to their + views; the Baroness was acquiring more and more influence over her + husband, who seemed to be growing older every day. M. de Nailles had + evidently much, very much upon his mind. It was said in business circles + that he had for some time past been given to speculation. Oscar said so. + If that were the case, many of Jacqueline’s suitors might withdraw. Not + all men were so disinterested as Fred. + </p> + <p> + “Oh! As to her dot—what do I care for her dot?” cried the young man. + “I have enough for two, if she would only be satisfied to live quietly at + Lizerolles!” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” said the judicious little matron, nodding her head, “but who would + like to marry a midshipman? Make haste and be a lieutenant, or an ensign.” + </p> + <p> + She smiled at herself for having made the reward depend upon exertion, + with a sort of maternal instinct. It was the same instinct that would lead + her in the future to promise Enguerrand a sugar-plum if he said his + lesson. “Nobody will steal your Jacqueline till you are ready to carry her + off. Besides, if there were any danger I could give you timely warning.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah! Giselle, if she only had your kind heart—your good sense.” + </p> + <p> + “Do you think I am better and more reasonable than other people? In what + way? I have done as so many other girls do; I have married without knowing + well what I was doing.” + </p> + <p> + She stopped short, fearing she might have said too much, and indeed Fred + looked at her anxiously. + </p> + <p> + “You don’t regret it, do you?” + </p> + <p> + “You must ask Monsieur de Talbrun if he regrets it,” she said, with a + laugh. “It must be hard on him to have a sick wife, who knows little of + what is passing outside of her own chamber, who is living on her reserve + fund of resources—a very poor little reserve fund it is, too!” + </p> + <p> + Then, as if she thought that Fred had been with her long enough, she said: + “I would ask you to stay and see Monsieur de Talbrun, but he won’t be in, + he dines at his club. He is going to see a new play tonight which they say + promises to be very good.” + </p> + <p> + “What! Will he leave you alone all the evening?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh! I am very glad he should find amusement. Just think how long it is + that I have been pinned down here! Poor Oscar!” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0010" id="link2HCH0010"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER X. GISELLE’S CONSOLATION + </h2> + <p> + The arrival of the expected Enguerrand hindered Giselle from pleading + Fred’s cause as soon as she could have wished. Her life for twenty-four + hours was in great danger, and when the crisis was past, which M. de + Talbrun treated very indifferently, as a matter of course, her first cry + was “My baby!” uttered in a tone of tender eagerness such as had never + been heard from her lips before. + </p> + <p> + The nurse brought him. He lay asleep swathed in his swaddling clothes like + a mummy in its wrappings, a motionless, mysterious being, but he seemed to + his mother beautiful—more beautiful than anything she had seen in + those vague visions of happiness she had indulged in at the convent, which + were never to be realized. She kissed his little purple face, his closed + eyelids, his puckered mouth, with a sort of respectful awe. She was + forbidden to fatigue herself. The wet-nurse, who had been brought from + Picardy, drew near with her peasant cap trimmed with long blue streamers; + her big, experienced hands took the baby from his mother, she turned him + over on her lap, she patted him, she laughed at him. And the + mother-happiness that had lighted up Giselle’s pale face died away. + </p> + <p> + “What right,” she thought, “has that woman to my child?” She envied the + horrid creature, coarse and stout, with her tanned face, her bovine + features, her shapeless figure, who seemed as if Nature had predestined + her to give milk and nothing more. Giselle would so gladly have been in + her place! Why wouldn’t they permit her to nurse her baby? + </p> + <p> + M. de Talbrun said in answer to this question: + </p> + <p> + “It is never done among people in our position. You have no idea, of all + it would entail on you—what slavery, what fatigue! And most probably + you would not have had milk enough.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh! who can tell? I am his mother! And when this woman goes he will have + to have English nurses, and when he is older he will have to go to school. + When shall I have him to myself?” + </p> + <p> + And she began to cry. + </p> + <p> + “Come, come!” said M. de Talbrun, much astonished, “all this fuss about + that frightful little monkey!” + </p> + <p> + Giselle looked at him almost as much astonished as he had been at her. + Love, with its jealousy, its transports, its anguish, its delights had for + the first time come to her—the love that she could not feel for her + husband awoke in her for her son. She was ennobled—she was + transfigured by a sense of her maternity; it did for her what marriage + does for some women—it seemed as if a sudden radiance surrounded + her. + </p> + <p> + When she raised her infant in her arms, to show him to those who came to + see her, she always seemed like a most chaste and touching representation + of the Virgin Mother. She would say, as she exhibited him: “Is he not + superb?” Every one said: “Yes, indeed!” out of politeness, but, on leaving + the mother’s presence, would generally remark: “He is Monsieur de Talbrun + in baby-clothes: the likeness is perfectly horrible!” + </p> + <p> + The only visitor who made no secret of this impression was Jacqueline, who + came to see her cousin as soon as she was permitted—that is, as soon + as her friend was able to sit up and be prettily dressed, as became the + mother of such a little gentleman as the heir of all the Talbruns. When + Jacqueline saw the little creature half-smothered in the lace that trimmed + his pillows, she burst out laughing, though it was in the presence of his + mother. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, mon Dieu!” she cried, “how ugly! I never should have supposed we + could have been as ugly as that! Why, his face is all the colors of the + rainbow; who would have imagined it? And he crumples up his little face + like those things in gutta-percha. My poor Giselle, how can you bear to + show him! I never, never could covet a baby!” + </p> + <p> + Giselle, in consternation, asked herself whether this strange girl, who + did not care for children, could be a proper wife for Fred; but her + habitual indulgence came to her aid, and she thought: + </p> + <p> + “She is but a child herself, she does not know what she is saying,” and + profiting by her first tete-a-tete with Jacqueline’s stepmother, she spoke + as she had promised to Madame de Nailles. + </p> + <p> + “A matchmaker already!” said the Baroness, with a smile. “And so soon + after you have found out what it costs to be a mother! How good of you, my + dear Giselle! So you support Fred as a candidate? But I can’t say I think + he has much chance; Monsieur de Nailles has his own ideas.” + </p> + <p> + She spoke as if she really thought that M. de Nailles could have any ideas + but her own. When the adroit Clotilde was at a loss, she was likely to + evoke this chimerical notion of her husband’s having an opinion of his + own. + </p> + <p> + “Oh! Madame, you can do anything you like with him!” + </p> + <p> + The clever woman sighed: + </p> + <p> + “So you fancy that when people have been long married a wife retains as + much influence over her husband as you have kept over Monsieur de Talbrun? + You will learn to know better, my dear.” + </p> + <p> + “But I have no influence,” murmured Giselle, who knew herself to be her + husband’s slave. + </p> + <p> + “Oh! I know better. You are making believe!” + </p> + <p> + “Well, but we were not talking about me, but—” + </p> + <p> + “Oh! yes. I understood. I will think about it. I will try to bring over + Monsieur de Nailles.” + </p> + <p> + She was not at all disposed to drop the meat for the sake of the shadow, + but she was not sure of M. de Cymier, notwithstanding all that Madame de + Villegry was at pains to tell her about his serious intentions. On the + other hand, she would have been far from willing to break with a man so + brilliant, who made himself so agreeable at her Tuesday receptions. + </p> + <p> + “Meantime, it would be well if you, dear, were to try to find out what + Jacqueline thinks. You may not find it very easy.” + </p> + <p> + “Will you authorize me to tell her how well he loves her? Oh, then, I am + quite satisfied!” cried Giselle. + </p> + <p> + But she was under a mistake. Jacqueline, as soon as she began to speak to + her of Fred’s suit, stopped her: + </p> + <p> + “Poor fellow! Why can’t he amuse himself for some time longer and let me + do the same? Men seem to me so strange! Now, Fred is one who, just because + he is good and serious by nature, fancies that everybody else should be + the same; he wishes me to be tethered in the flowery meads of Lizerolles, + and browse where he would place me. Such a life would be an end of + everything—an end to my life, and I should not like it at all. I + should prefer to grow old in Paris, or some other capital, if my husband + happened to be engaged in diplomacy. Even supposing I marry—which I + do not think an absolute necessity, unless I can not get rid otherwise of + an inconvenient chaperon—and to do my stepmother justice, she knows + well enough that I will not submit to too much of her dictation!” + </p> + <p> + “Jacqueline, they say you see too much of the Odinskas.” + </p> + <p> + “There! that’s another fault you find in me. I go there because Madame + Strahlberg is so kind as to give me some singing-lessons. If you only knew + how much progress I am making, thanks to her. Music is a thousand times + more interesting, I can tell you, than all that you can do as mistress of + a household. You don’t think so? Oh! I know Enguerrand’s first tooth, his + first steps, his first gleams of intelligence, and all that. Such things + are not in my line, you know. Of course I think your boy very funny, very + cunning, very—anything you like to fancy him, but forgive me if I am + glad he does not belong to me. There, don’t you see now that marriage is + not my vocation, so please give up speaking to me about matrimony.” + </p> + <p> + “As you will,” said Giselle, sadly, “but you will give great pain to a + good man whose heart is wholly yours.” + </p> + <p> + “I did not ask for his heart. Such gifts are exasperating. One does not + know what to do with them. Can’t he—poor Fred—love me as I + love him, and leave me my liberty?” + </p> + <p> + “Your liberty!” exclaimed Giselle; “liberty to ruin your life, that’s what + it will be.” + </p> + <p> + “Really, one would suppose there was only one kind of existence in your + eyes—this life of your own, Giselle. To leave one cage to be shut up + in another—that is the fate of many birds, I know, but there are + others who like to use their wings to soar into the air. I like that + expression. Come, little mother, tell me right out, plainly, that your lot + is the only one in this world that ought to be envied by a woman.” + </p> + <p> + Giselle answered with a strange smile: + </p> + <p> + “You seem astonished that I adore my baby; but since he came great things + seem to have been revealed to me. When I hold him to my breast I seem to + understand, as I never did before, duty and marriage, family ties and + sorrows, life itself, in short, its griefs and joys. You can not + understand that now, but you will some day. You, too, will gaze upon the + horizon as I do. I am ready to suffer; I am ready for self-sacrifice. I + know now whither my life leads me. I am led, as it were, by this little + being, who seemed to me at first only a doll, for whom I was embroidering + caps and dresses. You ask whether I am satisfied with my lot in life. Yes, + I am, thanks to this guide, this guardian angel, thanks to my precious + Enguerrand.” + </p> + <p> + Jacqueline listened, stupefied, to this unexpected outburst, so unlike her + cousin’s usual language; but the charm was broken by its ending with the + tremendously long name of Enguerrand, which always made her laugh, it was + in such perfect harmony with the feudal pretensions of the Monredons and + the Talbruns. + </p> + <p> + “How solemn and eloquent and obscure you are, my dear,” she answered. “You + speak like a sibyl. But one thing I see, and that is that you are not so + perfectly happy as you would have us believe, seeing that you feel the + need of consolations. Then, why do you wish me to follow your example?” + </p> + <p> + “Fred is not Monsieur de Talbrun,” said the young wife, for the moment + forgetting herself. + </p> + <p> + “Do you mean to say—” + </p> + <p> + “I meant nothing, except that if you married Fred you would have had the + advantage of first knowing him.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah! that’s your fixed idea. But I am getting to know Monsieur de Cymier + pretty well.” + </p> + <p> + “You have betrayed yourself,” cried Giselle, with indignation. “Monsieur + de Cymier!” + </p> + <p> + “Monsieur de Cymier is coming to our house on Saturday evening, and I must + get up a Spanish song that Madame Strahlberg has taught me, to charm his + ears and those of other people. Oh! I can do it very well. Won’t you come + and hear me play the castanets, if Monsieur Enguerrand can spare you? + There is a young Polish pianist who is to play our accompaniment. Ah, + there is nothing like a Polish pianist to play Chopin! He is charming, + poor young man! an exile, and in poverty; but he is cared for by those + ladies, who take him everywhere. That is the sort of life I should like—the + life of Madame Strahlberg—to be a young widow, free to do what I + pleased.” + </p> + <p> + “She may be a widow—but some say she is divorced.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh! is it you who repeat such naughty scandals, Giselle? Where shall + charity take refuge in this world if not in your heart? I am going—your + seriousness may be catching. Kiss me before I go.” + </p> + <p> + “No,” said Madame de Talbrun, turning her head away. + </p> + <p> + After this she asked herself whether she ought not to discourage Fred. She + could not resolve on doing so, yet she could not tell him what was false; + but by eluding the truth with that ability which kind-hearted women can + always show when they try to avoid inflicting pain, she succeeded in + leaving the young man hope enough to stimulate his ambition. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0011" id="link2HCH0011"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XI. FRED ASKS A QUESTION + </h2> + <p> + Time, whatever may be said of it by the calendars, is not to be measured + by days, weeks, and months in all cases; expectation, hope, happiness and + grief have very different ways of counting hours, and we know from our own + experience that some are as short as a minute, and others as long as a + century. The love or the suffering of those who can tell just how long + they have suffered, or just how long they have been in love, is only + moderate and reasonable. + </p> + <p> + Madame d’Argy found the two lonely years she passed awaiting the return of + her son, who was winning his promotion to the rank of ensign, so long, + that it seemed to her as if they never would come to an end. She had given + a reluctant consent to his notion of adopting the navy as a profession, + thinking that perhaps, after all, there might be no harm in allowing her + dear boy to pass the most dangerous period of his youth under strict + discipline, but she could not be patient forever! She idolized her son too + much to be resigned to living without him; she felt that he was hers no + longer. Either he was at sea or at Toulon, where she could very rarely + join him, being detained at Lizerolles by the necessity of looking after + their property. With what eagerness she awaited his promotion, which she + did not doubt was all the Nailles waited for to give their consent to the + marriage; of their happy half-consent she hastened to remind them in a + note which announced the new grade to which he had been promoted. Her + indignation was great on finding that her formal request received no + decided answer; but, as her first object was Fred’s happiness, she placed + the reply she had received in its most favorable light when she forwarded + it to the person whom it most concerned. She did this in all honesty. She + was not willing to admit that she was being put off with excuses; still + less could she believe in a refusal. + </p> + <p> + She accepted the excuse that M. de Nailles gave for returning no decided + answer, viz.: that “Jacqueline was too young,” though she answered him + with some vehemence: “Fred was born when I was eighteen.” But she had to + accept it. Her ensign would have to pass a few more months on the coast of + Senegal, a few more months which were made shorter by the encouragement + forwarded to him by his mother, who was careful to send him everything she + could find out that seemed to be, or that she imagined might be, in his + favor; she underlined such things and commented upon them, so as to make + the faintest hypothesis seem a certainty. Sometimes she did not even wait + for the post. Fred would find, on putting in at some post, a cablegram: + “Good news,” or “All goes well,” and he would be beside himself with joy + and excitement until, on receiving his poor, dear mother’s next letter, he + found out on how slight a foundation her assurance had been founded. + </p> + <p> + Sometimes, she wrote him disagreeable things about Jacqueline, as if she + would like to disenchant him, and then he said to himself: “By this, I am + to understand that my affairs are not going on well; I still count for + little, notwithstanding my promotion.” Ah! if he could only have had, so + near the beginning of his career, any opportunity of distinguishing + himself! No brilliant deed would have been too hard for him. He would have + scaled the very skies. Alas! he had had no chance to win distinction, he + had only had to follow in the beaten track of ordinary duty; he had + encountered no glorious perils, though at St. Louis he had come very near + leaving his bones, but it was only a case of typhoid fever. This fever, + however, brought about a scene between M. de Nailles and his mother. + </p> + <p> + “When,” she cried, with all the fury of a lioness, “do you expect to come + to the conclusion that my son is a suitable match for Jacqueline? Do you + imagine that I shall let him wait till he is a post-captain to satisfy the + requirements of Mademoiselle your daughter—provided he does not die + in a hospital? Do you think that I shall be willing to go on living—if + you can call it living!—all alone and in continual apprehension? Why + do you let him keep on in uncertainty? You know his worth, and you know + that with him Jacqueline would be happy. Instead of that—instead of + saying once for all to this young man, who is more in love with her than + any other man will ever be: ‘There, take her, I give her to you,’ which + would be the straightforward, sensible way, you go on encouraging the + caprices of a child who will end by wasting, in the life you are + permitting her to lead, all the good qualities she has and keeping nothing + but the bad ones.” + </p> + <p> + “Mon Dieu! I can’t see that Jacqueline leads a life like that!” said M. de + Nailles, who felt that he must say something. + </p> + <p> + “You don’t see, you don’t see! How can any one see who won’t open his + eyes? My poor friend, just look for once at what is going on around you, + under your own roof—” + </p> + <p> + “Jacqueline is devoted to music,” said her father, good-humoredly. Madame + d’Argy in her heart thought he was losing his mind. + </p> + <p> + And in truth he was growing older day by day, becoming more and more + anxious, more and more absorbed in the great struggle—not for life; + that might exhaust a man, but at least it was energetic and noble—but + for superfluous wealth, for vanity, for luxury, which, for his own part, + he cared nothing for, and which he purchased dearly, spurred on to + exertion by those near to him, who insisted on extravagances. + </p> + <p> + “Oh! yes, Jacqueline, I know, is devoted to music,” went on Madame d’Argy, + with an air of extreme disapproval, “too much so! And when she is able to + sing like Madame Strahlberg, what good will it do her? Even now I see more + than one little thing about her that needs to be reformed. How can she + escape spoiling in that crowd of Slavs and Yankees, people of no position + probably in their own countries, with whom you permit her to associate? + People nowadays are so imprudent about acquaintances! To be a foreigner is + a passport into society. Just think what her poor mother would have said + to the bad manners she is adopting from all parts of the globe? My poor, + dear Adelaide! She was a genuine Frenchwoman of the old type; there are + not many such left now. Ah!” continued Madame d’Argy, without any apparent + connection with her subject, “Monsieur de Talbrun’s mother, if he had one, + would be truly happy to see him married to Giselle!” + </p> + <p> + “But,” faltered M. de Nailles, struck by the truth of some of these + remarks, “I make no opposition—quite the contrary—I have + spoken several times about your son, but I was not listened to!” + </p> + <p> + “What can she say against Fred?” + </p> + <p> + “Nothing. She is very fond of him, that you know as well as I do. But + those childish attachments do not necessarily lead to love and marriage.” + </p> + <p> + “Friendship on her side might be enough,” said Madame d’Argy, in the tone + of a woman who had never known more than that in marriage. “My poor Fred + has enthusiasm and all that, enough for two. And in time she will be madly + in love with him—she must! It is impossible it should be otherwise.” + </p> + <p> + “Very good, persuade her yourself if you can; but Jacqueline has a pretty + strong will of her own.” + </p> + <p> + Jacqueline’s will was a reality, though the ideas of M. de Nailles may + have been illusion. + </p> + <p> + “And my wife, too!” resumed the Baron, after a long sigh. “I don’t know + how it is, but Jacqueline, as she has grown up, has become like an + unbroken colt, and those two, who were once all in all to each other, are + now seldom of one mind. How am I to act when their two wills cross mine, + as they often do? I have so many things on my mind. There are times when—” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, one can see that. You don’t seem to know where you are. And do you + think that the disposition she shows to act, as you say, like an unbroken + colt, is nothing to me? Do you think I am quite satisfied with my son’s + choice? I could have wished that he had chosen for his wife—but what + is the use of saying what I wished? The important thing is that he should + be happy in his own way. Besides, I dare say the young thing will calm + down of her own accord. Her mother’s daughter must be good at heart. All + will come right when she is removed from a circle which is doing her no + good; it is injuring her in people’s opinion already, you must know. And + how will it be by-and-bye? I hear people saying everywhere: ‘How can the + Nailles let that young girl associate so much with foreigners?’ You say + they are old school-fellows, they went to the ‘cours’ together. But see if + Madame d’Etaples and Madame Ray, under the same pretext, let Isabelle and + Yvonne associate with the Odinskas! As to that foolish woman, Madame + d’Avrigny, she goes to their house to look up recruits for her operettas, + and Madame Strahlberg has one advantage over regular artists, there is no + call to pay her. That is the reason why she invites her. Besides which, + she won’t find it so easy to marry Dolly.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh! there are several reasons for that,” said the Baron, who could see + the mote in his neighbor’s eye, “Mademoiselle d’Avrigny has led a life so + very worldly ever since she was a child, so madly fast and lively, that + suitors are afraid of her. Jacqueline, thank heaven, has never yet been in + what is called the world. She only visits those with whom she is on terms + of intimacy.” + </p> + <p> + “An intimacy which includes all Paris,” said Madame d’Argy, raising her + eyes to heaven. “If she does not go to great balls, it is only because her + stepmother is bored by them. But with that exception it seems to me she is + allowed to do anything. I don’t see the difference. But, to be sure, if + Jacqueline is not for us, you have a right to say that I am interfering in + what does not concern me.” + </p> + <p> + “Not at all,” said the unfortunate father, “I feel how much I ought to + value your advice, and an alliance with your family would please me more + than anything.” + </p> + <p> + He said the truth, for he was disturbed by seeing M. de Cymier so slow in + making his proposals, and he was also aware that young girls in our day + are less sought for in marriage than they used to be. His friend Wermant, + rich as he was, had had some trouble in capturing for Berthe a fellow of + no account in the Faubourg St. Germain, and the prize was not much to be + envied. He was a young man without brains and without a sou, who enjoyed + so little consideration among his own people that his wife had not been + received as she expected, and no one spoke of Madame de Belvan without + adding: “You know, that little Wermant, daughter of the ‘agent de + change’.” + </p> + <p> + Of course, Jacqueline had the advantage of good birth over Berthe, but how + great was her inferiority in point of fortune! M. de Nailles sometimes + confided these perplexities to his wife, without, however, receiving much + comfort from her. Nor did the Baroness confess to her husband all her own + fears. In secret she often asked herself, with the keen insight of a woman + of the world well trained in artifice and who possessed a thorough + knowledge of mankind, whether there might not be women capable of using a + young girl so as to put the world on a wrong scent; whether, in other + words, Madame de Villegry did not talk everywhere about M. de Cymier’s + attentions to Mademoiselle de Nailles in order to conceal his relations to + herself? Madame de Villegry indeed cared little about standing well in + public opinion, but rather the contrary; she would not, however, for the + world have been willing, by too openly favoring one man among her + admirers, to run the risk of putting the rest to flight. No doubt M. de + Cymier was most assiduous in his attendance on the receptions and dances + at Madame de Nailles’s, but he was there always at the same time as Madame + de Villegry herself. They would hold whispered conferences in corners, + which might possibly have been about Jacqueline, but there was no proof + that they were so, except what Madame de Villegry herself said. “At any + rate,” thought Madame de Nailles, “if Fred comes forward as a suitor it + may stimulate Monsieur de Cymier. There are men who put off taking a + decisive step till the last moment, and are only to be spurred up by + competition.” + </p> + <p> + So every opportunity was given to Fred to talk freely with Jacqueline when + he returned to Paris. By this time he wore two gold-lace stripes upon his + sleeve. But Jacqueline avoided any tete-a-tete with him as if she + understood the danger that awaited her. She gave him no chance of speaking + alone with her. She was friendly—nay, sometimes affectionate when + other people were near them, but more commonly she teased him, bewildered + him, excited him. After an hour or two spent in her society he would go + home sometimes savage, sometimes desponding, to ponder in his own room, + and in his own heart, what interpretation he ought to put upon the things + that she had said to him. + </p> + <p> + The more he thought, the less he understood. He would not have confided in + his mother for the world; she might have cast blame on Jacqueline. Besides + her, he had no one who could receive his confidences, who would bear with + his perplexities, who could assist in delivering him from the network of + hopes and fears in which, after every interview with Jacqueline, he seemed + to himself to become more and more entangled. + </p> + <p> + At last, however, at one of the soirees given every fortnight by Madame de + Nailles, he succeeded in gaining her attention. + </p> + <p> + “Give me this quadrille,” he said to her. + </p> + <p> + And, as she could not well refuse, he added, as soon as she had taken his + arm: “We will not dance, and I defy you to escape me.” + </p> + <p> + “This is treason!” she cried, somewhat angrily. “We are not here to talk; + I can almost guess beforehand what you have to say, and—” + </p> + <p> + But he had made her sit down in the recess of that bow-window which had + been called the young girls’ corner years ago. He stood before her, + preventing her escape, and half-laughing, though he was deeply moved. + </p> + <p> + “Since you have guessed what I wanted to say, answer me quickly.” + </p> + <p> + “Must I? Must I, really? Why didn’t you ask my father to do your + commission? It is so horribly disagreeable to do these things for one’s + self.” + </p> + <p> + “That depends upon what the things may be that have to be said. I should + think it ought to be very agreeable to pronounce the word on which the + happiness of a whole life is to depend.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh! what a grand phrase! As if I could be essential to anybody’s + happiness? You can’t make me believe that!” + </p> + <p> + “You are mistaken. You are indispensable to mine.” + </p> + <p> + “There! my declaration has been made,” thought Fred, much relieved that it + was over, for he had been afraid to pronounce the decisive words. + </p> + <p> + “Well, if I thought that were true, I should be very sorry,” said + Jacqueline, no longer smiling, but looking down fixedly at the pointed toe + of her little slipper; “because—” + </p> + <p> + She stopped suddenly. Her face flushed red. + </p> + <p> + “I don’t know how to explain to you;” she said. + </p> + <p> + “Explain nothing,” pleaded Fred; “all I ask is Yes, nothing more. There is + nothing else I care for.” + </p> + <p> + She raised her head coldly and haughtily, yet her voice trembled as she + said: + </p> + <p> + “You will force me to say it? Then, no! No!” she repeated, as if to + reaffirm her refusal. + </p> + <p> + Then, alarmed by Fred’s silence, and above all by his looks, he who had + seemed so gay shortly before and whose face now showed an anguish such as + she had never yet seen on the face of man, she added: + </p> + <p> + “Oh, forgive me!—Forgive me,” she repeated in a lower voice, holding + out her hand. He did not take it. + </p> + <p> + “You love some one else?” he asked, through his clenched teeth. + </p> + <p> + She opened her fan and affected to examine attentively the pink landscape + painted on it to match her dress. + </p> + <p> + “Why should you think so? I wish to be free.” + </p> + <p> + “Free? Are you free? Is a woman ever free?” + </p> + <p> + Jacqueline shook her head, as if expressing vague dissent. + </p> + <p> + “Free at least to see a little of the world,” she said, “to choose, to use + my wings, in short—” + </p> + <p> + And she moved her slender arms with an audacious gesture which had nothing + in common with the flight of that mystic dove upon which she had meditated + when holding the card given her by Giselle. + </p> + <p> + “Free to prefer some other man,” said Fred, who held fast to his idea with + the tenacity of jealousy. + </p> + <p> + “Ah! that is different. Supposing there were anyone whom I liked—not + more, but differently from the way I like you—it is possible. But + you spoke of loving!” + </p> + <p> + “Your distinctions are too subtle,” said Fred. + </p> + <p> + “Because, much as it seems to astonish you, I am quite capable of seeing + the difference,” said Jacqueline, with the look and the accent of a person + who has had large experience. “I have loved once—a long time ago, a + very long time ago, a thousand years and more. Yes, I loved some one, as + perhaps you love me, and I suffered more than you will ever suffer. It is + ended; it is over—I think it is over forever.” + </p> + <p> + “How foolish! At your age!” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, that kind of love is ended for me. Others may please me, others do + please me, as you said, but it is not the same thing. Would you like to + see the man I once loved?” asked Jacqueline, impelled by a juvenile desire + to exhibit her experience, and also aware instinctively that to cast a + scrap of past history to the curious sometimes turns off their attention + on another track. “He is near us now,” she added. + </p> + <p> + And while Fred’s angry eyes, under his frowning brows, were wandering all + round the salon, she pointed to Hubert Marien with a movement of her fan. + </p> + <p> + Marien was looking on at the dancing, with his old smile, not so brilliant + now as it had been. He now only smiled at beauty collectively, which was + well represented that evening in Madame de Nailles’s salon. Young girls + ‘en masse’ continued to delight him, but his admiration as an artist + became less and less personal. + </p> + <p> + He had grown stout, his hair and beard were getting gray; he was + interested no longer in Savonarola, having obtained, thanks to his + picture, the medal of honor, and the Institute some months since had + opened its doors to him. + </p> + <p> + “Marien? You are laughing at me!” cried Fred. + </p> + <p> + “It is simply the truth.” + </p> + <p> + Some magnetic influence at that moment caused the painter to turn his eyes + toward the spot where they were talking. + </p> + <p> + “We were speaking of you,” said Jacqueline. + </p> + <p> + And her tone was so singular that he dared not ask what they were saying. + With humility which had in it a certain touch of bitterness he said, still + smiling: + </p> + <p> + “You might find something better to do than to talk good or evil of a poor + fellow who counts now for nothing.” + </p> + <p> + “Counts for nothing! A fellow to be pitied!” cried Fred, “a man who has + just been elected to the Institute—you are hard to satisfy!” + </p> + <p> + Jacqueline sat looking at him like a young sorceress engaged in sticking + pins into the heart of a waxen figure of her enemy. She never missed an + opportunity of showing her implacable dislike of him. + </p> + <p> + She turned to Fred: “What I was telling you,” she said, “I am quite + willing to repeat in his presence. The thing has lost its importance now + that he has become more indifferent to me than any other man in the + world.” + </p> + <p> + She stopped, hoping that Marien had understood what she was saying and + that he resented the humiliating avowal from her own lips that her + childish love was now only a memory. + </p> + <p> + “If that is the only confession you have to make to me,” said Fred, who + had almost recovered his composure, “I can put up with my former rival, + and I pass a sponge over all that has happened in your long past of + seventeen years and a half, Jacqueline. Tell me only that at present you + like no one better than me.” + </p> + <p> + She smiled a half-smile, but he did not see it. She made no answer. + </p> + <p> + “Is he here, too—like the other!” he asked, sternly. + </p> + <p> + And she saw his restless eyes turn for an instant to the conservatory, + where Madame de Villegry, leaning back in her armchair, and Gerard de + Cymier, on a low seat almost at her feet, were carrying on their platonic + flirtation. + </p> + <p> + “Oh! you must not think of quarrelling with him,” cried Jacqueline, + frightened at the look Fred fastened on De Cymier. + </p> + <p> + “No, it would be of no use. I shall go out to Tonquin, that’s all.” + </p> + <p> + “Fred! You are not serious.” + </p> + <p> + “You will see whether I am not serious. At this very moment I know a man + who will be glad to exchange with me.” + </p> + <p> + “What! go and get yourself killed at Tonquin for a foolish little girl + like me, who is very, very fond of you, but hardly knows her own mind. It + would be absurd!” + </p> + <p> + “People are not always killed at Tonquin, but I must have new interests, + something to divert my mind from—” + </p> + <p> + “Fred! my dear Fred”—Jacqueline had suddenly become almost tender, + almost suppliant. “Your mother! Think of your mother! What would she say? + Oh, my God!” + </p> + <p> + “My mother must be allowed to think that I love my profession better than + all else. But, Jacqueline,” continued the poor fellow, clinging in despair + to the very smallest hope, as a drowning man catches at a straw, “if you + do not, as you said, know exactly your own mind—if you would like to + question your own heart—I would wait—” + </p> + <p> + Jacqueline was biting the end of her fan—a conflict was taking place + within her breast. But to certain temperaments there is pleasure in + breaking a chain or in leaping a barrier; she said: + </p> + <p> + “Fred, I am too much your friend to deceive you.” + </p> + <p> + At that moment M. de Cymier came toward them with his air of assurance: + “Mademoiselle, you forget that you promised me this waltz,” he said. + </p> + <p> + “No, I never forget anything,” she answered, rising. + </p> + <p> + Fred detained her an instant, saying, in a low voice: + </p> + <p> + “Forgive me. This moment, Jacqueline, is decisive. I must have an answer. + I never shall speak to you again of my sorrow. But decide now—on the + spot. Is all ended between us?” + </p> + <p> + “Not our old friendship, Fred,” said Jacqueline, tears rising in her eyes. + </p> + <p> + “So be it, then, if you so will it. But our friendship never will show + itself unless you are in need of friendship, and then only with the + discretion that your present attitude toward me has imposed.” + </p> + <p> + “Are you ready, Mademoiselle,” said Gerard, who, to allow them to end + their conversation, had obligingly turned his attention to some madrigals + that Colette Odinska was laughing over. + </p> + <p> + Jacqueline shook her head resolutely, though at that moment her heart felt + as if it were in a vise, and the moisture in her eyes looked like anything + but a refusal. Then, without giving herself time for further thought, she + whirled away into the dance with M. de Cymier. It was over, she had flung + to the winds her chance for happiness, and wounded a heart more cruelly + than Hubert Marien had ever wounded hers. The most horrible thing in this + unending warfare we call love is that we too often repay to those who love + us the harm that has been done us by those whom we have loved. The seeds + of mistrust and perversity sown by one man or by one woman bear fruit to + be gathered by some one else. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0012" id="link2HCH0012"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XII. A COMEDY AND A TRAGEDY + </h2> + <p> + The departure of Frederic d’Argy for Tonquin occasioned a break in the + intercourse between his mother and the family of De Nailles. The wails of + Hecuba were nothing to the lamentations of poor Madame d’Argy; the + unreasonableness of her wrath and the exaggeration in her reproaches + hindered even Jacqueline from feeling all the remorse she might otherwise + have felt for her share in Fred’s departure. She told her father, who the + first time in her life addressed her with some severity, that she could + not be expected to love all the young men who might threaten to go to the + wars, or to fling themselves from fourth-story windows, for her sake. + </p> + <p> + “It was very indelicate and inconsiderate of Fred to tell any one that it + was my fault that he was doing anything so foolish,” she said, with true + feminine deceit, “but he has taken the very worst possible means to make + me care for him. Everybody has too much to say about this matter which + concerns only him and me. Even Giselle thought proper to write me a + sermon!” + </p> + <p> + And she gave vent to her feelings in an exclamation of three syllables + that she had learned from the Odinskas, which meant: “I don’t care!” (je + m’en moque). + </p> + <p> + But this was not true. She cared very much for Giselle’s good opinion, and + for Madame d’Argy’s friendship. She suffered much in her secret heart at + the thought of having given so much pain to Fred. She guessed how deep it + was by the step to which it had driven him. But there was in her secret + soul something more than all the rest, it was a puerile, but delicious + satisfaction in feeling her own importance, in having been able to + exercise an influence over one heart which might possibly extend to that + of M. de Cymier. She thought he might be gratified by knowing that she had + driven a young man to despair, if he guessed for whose sake she had been + so cruel. He knew it, of course. Madame de Nailles took care that he + should not be ignorant of it, and the pleasure he took in such a proof of + his power over a young heart was not unlike that pleasure Jacqueline + experienced in her coquetry—which crushed her better feelings. He + felt proud of the sacrifice this beautiful girl had made for his sake, + though he did not consider himself thereby committed to any decision, only + he felt more attached to her than ever. Ever since the day when Madame de + Villegry had first introduced him at the house of Madame de Nailles, he + had had great pleasure in going there. The daughter of the house was more + and more to his taste, but his liking for her was not such as to carry him + beyond prudence. “If I chose,” he would say to himself after every time he + met her, “if I chose I could own that jewel. I have only to stretch out my + hand and have it given me.” And the next morning, after going to sleep + full of that pleasant thought, he would awake glad to find that he was + still as free as ever, and able to carry on a flirtation with a woman of + the world, which imposed no obligations upon him, and yet at the same time + make love to a young girl whom he would gladly have married but for + certain reports which were beginning to circulate among men of business + concerning the financial position of M. de Nailles. + </p> + <p> + They said that he was withdrawing money from secure investments to repair + (or to increase) considerable losses made by speculation, and that he + operated recklessly on the Bourse. These rumors had already withdrawn + Marcel d’Etaples from the list of his daughter’s suitors. The young fellow + was a captain of Hussars, who had no scruple in declaring the reason of + his giving up his interest in the young lady. Gerard de Cymier, more + prudent, waited and watched, thinking it would be quite time enough to go + to the bottom of things when he found himself called upon to make a + decision, and greatly interested meantime in the daily increase of + Jacqueline’s beauty. It was evident she cared for him. After all, it was + doing the little thing no harm to let her live on in the intoxication of + vanity and hope, and to give her something to dwell upon in her innocent + dreams. Never did Gerard allow himself to overstep the line he had marked + out for himself; a glance, a slight pressure of the hand, which might have + been intentional, or have meant nothing, a few ambiguous words in which an + active imagination might find something to dream about, a certain way of + passing his arm round her slight waist which would have meant much had it + not been done in public to the sound of music, were all the proofs the + young diplomatist had ever given of an attraction that was real so far as + consisted with his complete selfishness, joined to his professional + prudence, and that systematic habit of taking up fancies at any time for + anything, which prevents each fancy as it occurs from ripening into + passion. + </p> + <p> + He alluded indirectly to Fred’s departure in a way that turned it into + ridicule. While playing a game of ‘boston’ he whispered into Jacqueline’s + ear something about the old-fashionedness and stupidity of Paul and + Virginia, and his opinion of “calf-love,” as the English call an early + attachment, and something about the right of every girl to know a suitor + long before she consents to marry him. He said he thought that the days of + courtship must be the most delightful in the life of a woman, and that a + man who wished to cut them short was a fellow without delicacy or + discretion! + </p> + <p> + From this Jacqueline drew the conclusion that he was not willing to + resemble such a fellow, and was more and more persuaded that there was + tenderness in the way he pressed her waist, and that his voice had the + softness of a caress when he spoke to her. He made many inquiries as to + what she liked and what she wished for in the future, as if his great + object in all things was to anticipate her wishes. As for his intimacy + with Madame de Villegry, Jacqueline thought nothing of it, notwithstanding + her habitual mistrust of those she called old women. In the first place, + Madame de Villegry was her own mistress, nothing hindered them from having + been married long ago had they wished it; besides, had not Madame de + Villegry brought the young man to their house and let every one see, even + Jacqueline herself, what was her object in doing so? In this matter she + was their ally, a most zealous and kind ally, for she was continually + advising her young friend as to what was most becoming to her and how she + might make herself most attractive to men in general, with little covert + allusions to the particular tastes of Gerard, which she said she knew as + well as if he had been her brother. + </p> + <p> + All this was lightly insinuated, but never insisted upon, with the tact + which stood Madame de Villegry in stead of talent, and which had enabled + her to perform some marvellous feats upon the tight-rope without losing + her balance completely. She, too, made fun of the tragic determination of + Fred, which all those who composed the society of the De Nailles had been + made aware of by the indiscreet lamentations of Madame d’Argy. + </p> + <p> + “Is not Jacqueline fortunate?” cried. Colette Odinska, who, herself always + on a high horse, looked on love in its tragic aspect, and would have liked + to resemble Marie Stuart as much as she could, “is she not fortunate? She + has had a man who has gone abroad to get himself killed—and all for + her!” + </p> + <p> + Colette imagined herself under the same circumstances, making the most of + a slain lover, with a crape veil covering her fair hair, her mourning + copied from that of her divorced sister, who wore her weeds so charmingly, + but who was getting rather tired of a single life. + </p> + <p> + As for Miss Kate Sparks and Miss Nora, they could not understand why the + breaking of half-a-dozen hearts should not be the prelude to every + marriage. That, they said with much conviction, was always the case in + America, and a girl was thought all the more of who had done so. + </p> + <p> + Jacqueline, however, thought more than was reasonable about the dangers + that the friend of her childhood was going to encounter through her fault. + Fred’s departure would have lent him a certain prestige, had not a + powerful new interest stepped in to divert her thoughts. Madame d’Avrigny + was getting up her annual private theatricals, and wanted Jacqueline to + take the principal part in the play, saying that she ought to put her + lessons in elocution to some use. The piece chosen was to illustrate a + proverb, and was entirely new. It was as unexceptionable as it was + amusing; the most severe critic could have found no fault with its + morality or with its moral, which turned on the eagerness displayed by + young girls nowadays to obtain diplomas. Scylla and Charybdis was its + name. Its story was that of a young bride, who, thinking to please a + husband, a stupid and ignorant man, was trying to obtain in secret a high + place in the examination at the Sorbonne—‘un brevet superieur’. The + husband, disquieted by the mystery, is at first suspicious, then jealous, + and then is overwhelmed with humiliation when he discovers that his wife + knows more of everything than himself. He ends by imploring her to give up + her higher education if she wishes to please him. The little play had all + the modern loveliness and grace which Octave Feuillet alone can give, and + it contained a lesson from which any one might profit; which was by no + means always the case with Madame d’Avrigny’s plays, which too often were + full of risky allusions, of critical situations, and the like; likely, in + short, to “sail too close to the wind,” as Fred had once described them. + But Madame d’Avrigny’s prime object was the amusement of society, and + society finds pleasure in things which, if innocence understood them, + would put her to the blush. This play, however, was an exception. There + had been very little to cut out this time. Madame de Nailles had been + asked to take the mother’s part, but she declined, not caring to act such + a character in a house where years before in all her glory she had made a + sensation as a young coquette. So Madame d’Avrigny had to take the part + herself, not sorry to be able to superintend everything on the stage, and + to prompt Dolly, if necessary—Dolly, who had but four words to say, + which she always forgot, but who looked lovely in a little cap as a femme + de chambre. + </p> + <p> + People had been surprised that M. de Cymier should have asked for the part + of the husband, a local magistrate, stiff and self-important, whom + everybody laughed at. Jacqueline alone knew why he had chosen it: it would + give him the opportunity of giving her two kisses. Of course those kisses + were to be reserved for the representation, but whether intentionally or + otherwise, the young husband ventured upon them at every rehearsal, in + spite of the general outcry—not, however, very much in earnest, for + it is well understood that in private theatricals certain liberties may be + allowed, and M. de Cymier had never been remarkable for reserve when he + acted at the clubs, where the female parts were taken by ladies from the + smaller theatres. In this school he had acquired some reputation as an + amateur actor. “Besides,” as he remarked on making his apology, “we shall + do it very awkwardly upon the stage if we are not allowed to practise it + beforehand.” Jacqueline burst out laughing, and did not make much show of + opposition. To play the part of his wife, to hear him say to her, to + respond with the affectionate and familiar ‘toi’, was so amusing! It was + droll to see her cut out her husband in chemistry, history, and grammar, + and make him confound La Fontaine with Corneille. She had such a little + air while doing it! And at the close, when he said to her: “If I give you + a pony to-morrow, and a good hearty kiss this very minute, shall you be + willing to give up getting that degree?” she responded, with such gusto: + “Indeed, I shall!” and her manner was so eager, so boyish, so full of fun, + that she was wildly applauded, while Gerard embraced her as heartily as he + liked, to make up to himself for her having had, as his wife, the upper + hand. + </p> + <p> + All this kissing threw him rather off his balance, and he might soon have + sealed his fate, had not a very sad event occurred, which restored his + self-possession. + </p> + <p> + The dress rehearsal was to take place one bright spring day at about four + o’clock in the afternoon. A large number of guests was assembled at the + house of Madame d’Avrigny. The performance had been much talked about + beforehand in society. The beauty, the singing, and the histrionic powers + of the principal actress had been everywhere extolled. Fully conscious of + what was expected of her, and eager to do herself credit in every way, + Jacqueline took advantage of Madame Strahlberg’s presence to run over a + little song, which she was to—sing between the acts and in which she + could see no meaning whatever. This little song, which, to most of the + ladies present, seemed simply idiotic, made the men in the audience cry + “Oh!” as if half-shocked, and then “Encore! Encore!” in a sort of frenzy. + It was a so-called pastoral effusion, in which Colinette rhymed with + herbette, and in which the false innocence of the eighteenth century was a + cloak for much indelicate allusion. + </p> + <p> + “I never,” said Jacqueline in self-defense, before she began the song, + “sang anything so stupid. And that is saying much when one thinks of all + the nonsensical words that people set to music! It’s a marvel how any one + can like this stuff. Do tell me what there is in it?” she added, turning + to Gerard, who was charmed by her ignorance. + </p> + <p> + Standing beside the grand piano, with her arms waving as she sang, + repeating, by the expression of her eyes, the question she had asked and + to which she had received no answer, she was singing the verses she + considered nonsense with as much point as if she had understood them, + thanks to the hints given her by Madame Strahlberg, who was playing her + accompaniment, when the entrance of a servant, who pronounced her name + aloud, made a sudden interruption. “Mademoiselle de Nailles is wanted at + home at once. Modeste has come for her.” + </p> + <p> + Madame d’Avrigny went out to say to the old servant: “She can not possibly + go home with you! It is only half an hour since she came. The rehearsal is + just beginning.” + </p> + <p> + But something Modeste said in answer made her give a little cry, full of + consternation. She came quickly back, and going up to Jacqueline: + </p> + <p> + “My dear,” she said, “you must go home at once—there is bad news, + your father is ill.” + </p> + <p> + “Ill?” + </p> + <p> + The solemnity of Madame d’Avrigny’s voice, the pity in her expression, the + affection with which she spoke and above all her total indifference to the + fate of her rehearsal, frightened Jacqueline. She rushed away, not waiting + to say good-by, leaving behind her a general murmur of “Poor thing!” while + Madame d’Avrigny, recovering from her first shock, was already beginning + to wonder—her instincts as an impresario coming once more to the + front—whether the leading part might not be taken by Isabelle Ray. + She would have to send out two hundred cards, at least, and put off her + play for another fortnight. What a pity! It seemed as if misfortunes + always happened just so as to interfere with pleasures. + </p> + <p> + The fiacre which had brought Modeste was at the door. The old nurse helped + her young lady into it. + </p> + <p> + “What has happened to papa?” cried Jacqueline, impetuously. + </p> + <p> + There was something horrible in this sudden transition from gay excitement + to the sharpest anxiety. + </p> + <p> + “Nothing—that is to say—he is very sick. Don’t tremble like + that, my darling-courage!” stammered Modeste, who was frightened by her + agitation. + </p> + <p> + “He was taken sick, you say. Where? How happened it?” + </p> + <p> + “In his study. Pierre had just brought him his letters. We thought we + heard a noise as if a chair had been thrown down, and a sort of cry. I ran + in to see. He was lying at full length on the floor.” + </p> + <p> + “And now? How is he now?” + </p> + <p> + “We did what we could for him. Madame came back. He is lying on his bed.” + </p> + <p> + Modeste covered her face with her hands. + </p> + <p> + “You have not told me all. What else?” + </p> + <p> + “Mon Dieu! you knew your poor father had heart disease. The last time the + doctor saw him he thought his legs had swelled—” + </p> + <p> + “Had!” Jacqueline heard only that one word. It meant that the life of her + father was a thing of the past. Hardly waiting till the fiacre could be + stopped, she sprang out, rushed into the house, opened the door of her + father’s chamber, pushing aside a servant who tried to stop her, and fell + upon her knees beside the bed where lay the body of her father, white and + rigid. + </p> + <p> + “Papa! My poor dear—dear papa!” + </p> + <p> + The hand she pressed to her lips was as cold as ice. She raised her + frightened eyes to the face over which the great change from life to death + had passed. “What does it mean?” Jacqueline had never looked on death + before, but she knew this was not sleep. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, speak to me, papa! It is I—it is Jacqueline!” + </p> + <p> + Her stepmother tried to raise her—tried to fold her in her arms. + </p> + <p> + “Let me alone!” she cried with horror. + </p> + <p> + It seemed to her as if her father, where he was now, so far from her, so + far from everything, might have the power to look into human hearts, and + know the perfidy he had known nothing of when he was living. He might see + in her own heart, too, her great despair. All else seemed small and of no + consequence when death was present. + </p> + <p> + Oh! why had she not been a better daughter, more loving, more devoted? why + had she ever cared for anything but to make him happy? + </p> + <p> + She sobbed aloud, while Madame de Nailles, pressing her handkerchief to + her eyes, stood at the foot of the bed, and the doctor, too, was near, + whispering to some one whom Jacqueline at first had not perceived—the + friend of the family, Hubert Marien. + </p> + <p> + Marien there? Was it not natural that, so intimate as he had always been + with the dead man, he should have hastened to offer his services to the + widow? + </p> + <p> + Jacqueline flung herself upon her father’s corpse, as if to protect it + from profanation. She had an impulse to bear it away with her to some + desert spot where she alone could have wept over it. + </p> + <p> + She lay thus a long time, beside herself with grief. + </p> + <p> + The flowers which covered the bed and lay scattered on the floor, gave a + festal appearance to the death-chamber. They had been purchased for a + fete, but circumstances had changed their destination. That evening there + was to have been a reception in the house of M. de Nailles, but the + unexpected guest that comes without an invitation had arrived before the + music and the dancers. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0013" id="link2HCH0013"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XIII. THE STORM BREAKS + </h2> + <p> + Monsieur de Nailles was dead, struck down suddenly by what is called + indefinitely heart-failure. The trouble in that organ from which he had + long suffered had brought on what might have been long foreseen, and yet + every one seemed, stupefied by the event. It came upon them like a + thunderbolt. It often happens so when people who are really ill persist in + doing all that may be done with safety by other persons. They persuaded + themselves, and those about them are easily persuaded, that small remedies + will prolong indefinitely a state of things which is precarious to the + last degree. Friends are ready to believe, when the sufferer complains + that his work is too hard for him, that he thinks too much of his ailments + and that he exaggerates trifles to which they are well accustomed, but + which are best known to him alone. When M. de Nailles, several weeks + before his death, had asked to be excused and to stay at home instead of + attending some large gathering, his wife, and even Jacqueline, would try + to convince him that a little amusement would be good for him; they were + unwilling to leave him to the repose he needed, prescribed for him by the + doctors, who had been unanimous that he must “put down the brakes,” give + less attention to business, avoid late hours and over-exertion of all + kinds. “And, above all,” said one of the lights of science whom he had + consulted recently about certain feelings of faintness which were a bad + symptom, “above all, you must keep yourself from mental anxiety.” + </p> + <p> + How could he, when his fortune, already much impaired, hung on chances as + uncertain as those in a game of roulette? What nonsense! The failure of a + great financial company had brought about a crisis on the Bourse. The news + of the inability of Wermant, the ‘agent de change’, to meet his + engagements, had completed the downfall of M. de Nailles. Not only death, + but ruin, had entered that house, where, a few hours before, luxury and + opulence had seemed to reign. + </p> + <p> + “We don’t know whether there will be anything left for us to live upon,” + cried Madame de Nailles, with anguish, even while her husband’s body lay + in the chamber of death, and Jacqueline, kneeling beside it, wept, + unwilling to receive comfort or consolation. + </p> + <p> + She turned angrily upon her stepmother and cried: + </p> + <p> + “What matter? I have no father—there is nothing else I care for.” + </p> + <p> + But from that moment a dreadful thought, a thought she was ashamed of, + which made her feel a monster of selfishness, rose in her mind, do what + she would to hinder it. Jacqueline was sensible that she cared for + something else; great as was her sense of loss, a sort of reckless + curiosity seemed haunting her, while all the time she felt that her great + grief ought not to give place to anything besides. “How would Gerard de + Cymier behave in these circumstances?” She thought about it all one + dreadful night as she and Modeste, who was telling her beads softly, sat + in the faint light of the death-chamber. She thought of it at dawn, when, + after one of those brief sleeps which come to the young under all + conditions, she resumed with a sigh a sense of surrounding realities. + Almost in the same instant she thought: “My dear father will never wake + again,” and “Does he love me?—does he now wish me to be his wife?—will + he take me away?” The devil, which put this thought into her heart, made + her eager to know the answer to these questions. He suggested how dreadful + life with her stepmother would be if no means of escape were offered her. + He made her foresee that her stepmother would marry again—would + marry Marien. “But I shall not be there!” she cried, “I will not + countenance such an infamy!” Oh, how she hoped Gerard de Cymier loved her! + The hypocritical tears of Madame de Nailles disgusted her. She could not + bear to have such false grief associated with her own. + </p> + <p> + Men in black, with solemn faces, came and bore away the body, no longer + like the form of the father she had loved. He had gone from her forever. + Pompous funeral rites, little in accordance with the crash that soon + succeeded them, were superintended by Marien, who, in the absence of near + relatives, took charge of everything. He seemed to be deeply affected, and + behaved with all possible kindness and consideration to Jacqueline, who + could not, however, bring herself to thank him, or even to look at him. + She hated him with an increase of resentment, as if the soul of her dead + father, who now knew the truth, had passed into her own. + </p> + <p> + Meantime, M. de Cymier took care to inform himself of the state of things. + It was easy enough to do so. All Paris was talking of the shipwreck in + which life and fortune had been lost by a man whose kindliness as a host + at his wife’s parties every one had appreciated. That was what came, + people said, of striving after big dividends! The house was to be sold, + with the horses, the pictures, and the furniture. What a change for his + poor wife and daughter! There were others who suffered by the Wermant + crash, but those were less interesting than the De Nailles. M. de Belvan + found himself left by his father-in-law’s failure with a wife on his hands + who not only had not a sou, but who was the daughter of an ‘agent de + change’ who had behaved dishonorably. + </p> + <p> + This was a text for dissertations on the disgrace of marrying for money; + those who had done the same thing, minus the same consequences, being + loudest in reprobating alliances of that kind. M. de Cymier listened + attentively to such talk, looking and saying the right things, and as he + heard more and more about the deplorable condition of M. de Nailles’s + affairs, he congratulated himself that a prudent presentiment had kept him + from asking the hand of Jacqueline. He had had vague doubts as to the firm + foundation of the opulence which made so charming a frame for her young + beauty; it seemed to him as if she were now less beautiful than he had + imagined her; the enchantment she had exercised upon him was thrown off by + simple considerations of good sense. And yet he gave a long sigh of regret + when he thought she was unattainable except by marriage. He, however, + thanked heaven that he had not gone far enough to have compromised himself + with her. The most his conscience could reproach him with was an + occasional imprudence in moments of forgetfulness; no court of honor could + hold him bound to declare himself her suitor. The evening that he made up + his mind to this he wrote two letters, very nearly alike; one was to + Madame d’Avrigny, the other to Madame de Nailles, announcing that, having + received orders to join the Embassy to which he was attached at Vienna, he + was about to depart at once, with great regret that he should not be able + to take leave of any one. To Madame d’Avrigny he made apologies for having + to give up his part in her theatricals; he entreated Madame de Nailles to + accept both for herself and for Mademoiselle Jacqueline his deepest + condolences and the assurance of his sympathy. The manner in which this + was said was all it ought to have been, except that it might have been + rather more brief. M. de Cymier said more than was necessary about his + participation in their grief, because he was conscious of a total lack of + sympathy. He begged the ladies would forgive him if, from feelings of + delicacy and a sense of the respect due to a great sorrow, he did not, + before leaving Paris, which he was about do to probably for a long time, + personally present to them ‘ses hommages attristes’. Then followed a few + lines in which he spoke of the pleasant recollections he should always + retain of the hospitality he had enjoyed under M. de Nailles’s roof, in a + way that gave them clearly to understand that he had no expectation of + ever entering their family on a more intimate footing. + </p> + <p> + Madame de Nailles received this letter just as she had had a conversation + with a man of business, who had shown her how complete was the ruin for + which in a great measure she herself was responsible. She had no longer + any illusions as to her position. When the estate had been settled there + would be nothing left but poverty, not only for herself, who, having + brought her husband no dot, had no right to consider herself wronged by + the bankruptcy, but for Jacqueline, whose fortune, derived from her + mother, had suffered under her father’s management (there are such men—unfaithful + guardians of a child’s property, but yet good fathers) in every way in + which it was possible to evade the provisions of the Code intended to + protect the rights of minor children. In the little salon so charmingly + furnished, where never before had sorrow or sadness been discussed, Madame + de Nailles poured out her complaints to her stepdaughter and insisted upon + plans of strict economy, when M. de Cymier’s letter was brought in. + </p> + <p> + “Read!” said the Baroness, handing the strange document to Jacqueline, + after she had read it through. + </p> + <p> + Then she leaned back in her chair with a gesture which signified: “This is + the last straw!” and remained motionless, apparently overwhelmed, with her + face covered by one hand, but furtively watching the face of the girl so + cruelly forsaken. + </p> + <p> + That face told nothing, for pride supplies some sufferers with necessary + courage. Jacqueline sat for some time with her eyes fixed on the decisive + adieu which swept away what might have been her secret hope. The paper did + not tremble in her hand, a half-smile of contempt passed over her mouth. + The answer to the restless question that had intruded itself upon her in + the first moments of her grief was now before her. Its promptness, its + polished brutality, had given her a shock, but not the pain she had + expected. Perhaps her great grief—the real, the true, the grief + death brings—recovered its place in her heart, and prevented her + from feeling keenly any secondary emotion. Perhaps this man, who could pay + court to her in her days of happiness and disappear when the first trouble + came, seemed to her not worth caring for. + </p> + <p> + She silently handed back the letter to her stepmother. + </p> + <p> + “No more than I expected,” said the Baroness. + </p> + <p> + “Indeed?” replied Jacqueline with complete indifference. She wished to + give no opening to any expressions of sympathy on the part of Madame de + Nailles. + </p> + <p> + “Poor Madame d’Avrigny,” she added, “has bad luck; all her actors seem to + be leaving her.” + </p> + <p> + This speech was the vain bravado of a young soldier going into action. The + poor child betrayed herself to the experienced woman, trained either to + detect or to practise artifice, and who found bitter amusement in watching + the girl’s assumed ‘sang-froid’. But the mask fell off at the first touch + of genuine sympathy. When Giselle, forgetful of a certain coolness between + them ever since Fred’s departure, came to clasp her in her arms, she + showed only her true self, a girl suffering all the bitterness of a cruel, + humiliating desertion. Long talks ensued between the friends, in which + Jacqueline poured into Giselle’s ear her sad discoveries in the past, her + sorrows and anxieties in the present, and her vague plans for the future. + “I must go away,” she said; “I must escape somewhere; I can not go on + living with Madame de Nailles—I should go mad, I should be tempted + every day to upbraid her with her conduct.” + </p> + <p> + Giselle made no attempt to curb an excitement which she knew would resist + all she could say to calm it. She feigned agreement, hoping thereby to + increase her future influence, and advised her friend to seek in a convent + the refuge that she needed. But she must do nothing rashly; she should + only consider it a temporary retreat whose motive was a wish to remain for + a while within reach of religious consolation. In that way she would give + people nothing to talk about, and her step mother could not be offended. + It was never of any use to get out of a difficulty by breaking all the + glass windows with a great noise, and good resolutions are made firmer by + being matured in quietness. Such were the lessons Giselle herself had been + taught by the Benedictine nuns, who, however deficient they might be in + the higher education of women, knew at least how to bring up young girls + with a view to making them good wives. Giselle illustrated this day by day + in her relations to a husband as disagreeable as a husband well could be, + a man of small intelligence, who was not even faithful to her. But she did + not cite herself as an example. She never talked about herself, or her own + difficulties. + </p> + <p> + “You are an angel of sense and goodness,” sobbed Jacqueline. “I will do + whatever you wish me to do.” + </p> + <p> + “Count upon me—count upon all your friends,” said Madame de Talbrun, + tenderly. + </p> + <p> + And then, enumerating the oldest and the truest of these friends, she + unluckily named Madame d’Argy. Jacqueline drew herself back at once: + </p> + <p> + “Oh, for pity’s sake!” she cried, “don’t mention them to me!” + </p> + <p> + Already a comparison between Fred’s faithful affection and Gerard de + Cymier’s desertion had come into her mind, but she had refused to + entertain it, declaring resolutely to herself that she never should repent + her refusal. She was sore, she was angry with all men, she wished all were + like Cymier or like Marien, that she might hate every one of them; she + came to the conclusion in her heart of hearts that all of them, even the + best, if put to the proof, would turn out selfish. She liked to think so—to + believe in none of them. Thus it happened that an unexpected visit from + Fred’s mother, among those that she received in her first days of + orphanhood, was particularly agreeable to her. + </p> + <p> + Madame d’Argy, on hearing of the death and of the ruin of M. de Nailles, + was divided by two contradictory feelings. She clearly saw the hand of + Providence in what had happened: her son was in the squadron on its way to + attack Formosa; he was in peril from the climate, in peril from Chinese + bullets, and assuredly those who had brought him into peril could not be + punished too severely; on the other hand, the last mail from Tonquin had + brought her one of those great joys which always incline us to be + merciful. Fred had so greatly distinguished himself in a series of fights + upon the river Min that he had been offered his choice between the Cross + of the Legion of Honor or promotion. He told his mother now that he had + quite recovered from a wound he had received which had brought him some + glory, but which he assured her had done him no bodily harm, and he + repeated to her what he would not tell her at first, some words of praise + from Admiral Courbet of more value in his eyes than any reward. + </p> + <p> + Triumphant herself, and much moved by pity for Jacqueline, Madame d’Argy + felt as if she must put an end to a rupture which could not be kept up + when a great sorrow had fallen on her old friends, besides which she + longed to tell every one, those who had been blind and ungrateful in + particular, that Fred had proved himself a hero. So Jacqueline and her + stepmother saw her arrive as if nothing had ever come between them. There + were kisses and tears, and a torrent of kindly meant questions, + affectionate explanations, and offers of service. But Fred’s mother could + not help showing her own pride and happiness to those in sorrow. They + congratulated her with sadness. Madame d’Argy would have liked to think + that the value of what she had lost was now made plain to Jacqueline. And + if it caused her one more pang—what did it matter? He and his mother + had suffered too. It was the turn of others. God was just. Resentment, and + kindness, and a strange mixed feeling of forgiveness and revenge contended + together in the really generous heart of Madame d’Argy, but that heart was + still sore within her. Pity, however, carried the day, and had it not been + for the irritating coldness of “that little hard-hearted thing,” as she + called Jacqueline, she would have entirely forgiven her. She never + suspected that the exaggerated reserve of manner that offended her was + owing to Jacqueline’s dread (commendable in itself) of appearing to wish + in her days of misfortune for the return of one she had rejected in the + time of prosperity. + </p> + <p> + In spite of the received opinion that society abandons those who are + overtaken by misfortune, all the friends of the De Nailles flocked to + offer their condolences to the widow and the orphan with warm + demonstrations of interest. Curiosity, a liking to witness, or to + experience, emotion, the pleasure of being able to tell what has been seen + and heard, to find out new facts and repeat them again to others, joined + to a sort of vague, commonplace, almost intrusive pity, are sentiments, + which sometimes in hours of great disaster, produce what appears to wear + the look of sympathy. A fortnight after M. de Nailles’s death, between the + acts of Scylla and Charybdis, the principal parts in which were taken by + young d’Etaples and Isabelle Ray, the company, as it ate ices, was glibly + discussing the real drama which had produced in their own elegant circle + much of the effect a blow has upon an ant-hill—fear, agitation, and + a tumultuous rush to the scene of the disaster. + </p> + <p> + Great indignation was expressed against the man who had risked the fortune + of his family in speculation. Oh! the thing had been going on for a long + while. His fortune had been gradually melting away; Grandchaux was loaded + down with mortgages and would bring almost nothing at a forced sale. + </p> + <p> + Everybody forgot that had M. de Nailles’s speculations been successful + they would have been called matters of business, conducted with great + ability on a large scale. When a performer falls from the tightrope, who + remembers all the times he has not failed? It is simply said that he fell + from his own carelessness. + </p> + <p> + “The poor Baroness is touchingly resigned,” said Madame de Villegry, with + a deep sigh; “and heaven knows how many other cares she has besides the + loss of money! I don’t mean only the death of her husband—and you + know how much they were attached to each other—I am speaking of that + unaccountable resolution of Jacqueline’s.” + </p> + <p> + Madame d’Avrigny here came forward with her usual equanimity which nothing + disturbed, unless it were something which interfered with the success of + her salon. + </p> + <p> + She was of course very sorry for her friends in trouble, but the + vicissitudes that had happened to her theatricals she had more at heart. + </p> + <p> + “After all,” she said, “the first act did not go off badly, did it? The + musical part made up for the rest. That divine Strahlberg is ready for any + emergency. How well she sang that air of ‘La Petite Mariee!’ It was + exquisite, but I regretted Jacqueline. She was so charming in that lively + little part. What a catastrophe! + </p> + <p> + “What a terrible catastrophe! Were you speaking of the retreat she wishes + to make in a convent? Well, I quite understand how she feels about it! I + should feel the same myself. In the bewilderment of a first grief one does + not care to see anything of the world. ‘Mon Dieu’! youth always has these + exaggerated notions. She will come back to us. Poor little thing! Of + course it was no fault of hers, and I should not think of blaming Monsieur + de Cymier. The exigencies of his career—but you all must own that + unexpected things happen so suddenly in this life that it is enough to + discourage any one who likes to open her house and provide amusement for + her friends.” + </p> + <p> + Every one present pitied her for the contretemps over which she had + triumphed so successfully. Then she resumed, serenely: + </p> + <p> + “Don’t you think that Isabelle played the part almost as well as + Jacqueline? Up to the last moment I was afraid that something would go + wrong. When one gets into a streak of ill-luck—but all went off to + perfection, thank heaven!” + </p> + <p> + Meantime Madame Odinska was whispering to one of those who sat near her + her belief that Jacqueline would never get over her father’s loss. “It + would not astonish me,” she said, “to hear that the child, who has a noble + nature, would remain in the convent and take the veil.” + </p> + <p> + Any kind of heroic deed seemed natural to this foolish enthusiast, who, as + a matter of fact, in her own life, had never shown any tendency to heroic + virtues; her mission in life had seemed to be to spoil her daughters in + every possible way, and to fling away more money than belonged to her. + </p> + <p> + “Really? Was she so very fond of her father!” asked Madame Ray, + incredulously. “When he was alive, they did not seem to make much of him + in his own house. Maybe this retreat is a good way of getting over a + little wound to her ‘amour-propre’.” + </p> + <p> + “The proper thing, I think,” said Madame d’Etaples, “would be for the + mother and daughter to keep together, to bear the troubles before them + hand in hand. Jacqueline does not seem to think much of the last wishes of + the father she pretends to be so fond of. The Baroness showed me, with + many tears, a letter he left joined to his will, which was written some + years ago, and which now, of course, is of no value. He told mother and + daughter to take care of each other and hoped they would always remain + friends, loving each other for love of him. Jacqueline’s conduct amazes + me; it looks like ingratitude.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh! she is a hard-hearted little thing! I always thought so!” said Madame + de Villegry, carelessly. + </p> + <p> + Here the rising of the curtain stopped short these discussions, which + displayed so much good-nature and perspicacity. But some laid the blame on + the influence of that little bigot of a Talbrun, who had secretly blown up + the fire of religious enthusiasm in Jacqueline, when Madame d’Avrigny’s + energetic “Hush!” put an end to the discussion. It was time to come back + to more immediate interests, to the play which went on in spite of wind + and tide. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0018" id="link2H_4_0018"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + BOOK 3. + </h2> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0014" id="link2HCH0014"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XIV. BITTER DISILLUSION + </h2> + <p> + Some people in this world who turn round and round in a daily circle of + small things, like squirrels in a cage, have no idea of the pleasure a + young creature, conscious of courage, has in trying its strength; this + struggle with fortune loses its charm as it grows longer and longer and + more and more difficult, but at the beginning it is an almost certain + remedy for sorrow. + </p> + <p> + To her resolve to make head against misfortune Jacqueline owed the fact + that she did not fall into those morbid reveries which might have + converted her passing fancy for a man who was simply a male flirt into the + importance of a lost love. Is there any human being conscious of energy, + and with faith in his or her own powers, who has not wished to know + something of adversity in order to rise to the occasion and confront it? + To say nothing of the pleasure there is in eating brown bread, when one + has been fed only on cake, or of the satisfaction that a child feels when, + after strict discipline, he is left to do as he likes, to say nothing of + the pleasure ladies boarding in nunneries are sure to feel on reentering + the world, at recovering their liberty, Jacqueline by nature loved + independence, and she was attracted by the novelty of her situation as + larks are attracted by a mirror. She was curious to know what life held + for her in reserve, and she was extremely anxious to repair the error she + had committed in giving way to a feeling of which she was now ashamed. + What could do this better than hard work? To owe everything to herself, to + her talents, to her efforts, to her industry, such was Jacqueline’s ideal + of her future life. + </p> + <p> + She had, before this, crowned her brilliant reputation in the ‘cours’ of + M. Regis by passing her preliminary examination at the Sorbonne; she was + confident of attaining the highest degree—the ‘brevet superieur’, + and while pursuing her own studies she hoped to give lessons in music and + in foreign languages, etc. Thus assured of making her own living, she + could afford to despise the discreditable happiness of Madame de Nailles, + who, she had no doubt, would shortly become Madame Marien; also the + crooked ways in which M. de Cymier might pursue his fortune-hunting. She + said to herself that she should never marry; that she had other objects of + interest; that marriage was for those who had nothing better before them; + and the world appeared to her under a new aspect, a sphere of useful + activity full of possibilities, of infinite variety, and abounding in + interests. Marriage might be all very well for rich girls, who unhappily + were objects of value to be bought and sold; her semi-poverty gave her the + right to break the chains that hampered the career of other well-born + women—she would make her own way in the world like a man. + </p> + <p> + Thus, at eighteen, youth is ready to set sail in a light skiff on a rough + sea, having laid in a good store of imagination and of courage, of + childlike ignorance and self-esteem. + </p> + <p> + No doubt she would meet with some difficulties; that thought did but + excite her ardor. No doubt Madame de Nailles would try to keep her with + her, and Jacqueline had provided herself beforehand with some double-edged + remarks by way of weapons, which she intended to use according to + circumstances. But all these preparations for defense or attack proved + unnecessary. When she told the Baroness of her plans she met with no + opposition. She had expected that her project of separation would highly + displease her stepmother; on the contrary, Madame de Nailles discussed her + projects quietly, affecting to consider them merely temporary, but with no + indication of dissatisfaction or resistance. In truth she was not sorry + that Jacqueline, whose companionship became more and more embarrassing + every day, had cut the knot of a difficult position by a piece of + wilfulness and perversity which seemed to put her in the wrong. The + necessity she would have been under of crushing such a girl, who was now + eighteen, would have been distasteful and unprofitable; she was very glad + to get rid of her stepdaughter, always provided it could be done decently + and without scandal. Those two, who had once so loved each other and who + were now sharers in the same sorrows, became enemies—two hostile + parties, which only skilful strategy could ever again bring together. They + tacitly agreed to certain conditions: they would save appearances; they + would remain on outwardly good terms with each other whatever happened, + and above all they would avoid any explanation. This programme was + faithfully carried out, thanks to the great tact of Madame de Nailles. + </p> + <p> + No one could have been more watchful to appear ignorant of everything + which, if once brought to light, would have led to difficulties; for + instance, she feigned not to know that her stepdaughter was in possession + of a secret which, if the world knew, would forever make them strangers to + each other; nor would she seem aware that Hubert Marien, weary to death of + the tie that bound him to her, was restrained from breaking it only by a + scruple of honor. Thanks to this seeming ignorance, she parted from + Jacqueline without any open breach, as she had long hoped to do, and she + retained as a friend who supplied her wants a man who was only too happy + to be allowed at this price to escape the act of reparation which + Jacqueline, in her simplicity, had dreaded. + </p> + <p> + All those who, having for years dined and danced under the roof of the + Nailles, were accounted their friends by society, formed themselves into + two parties, one of which lauded to the skies the dignity and resignation + of the Baroness, while the other admired the force of character in + Jacqueline. + </p> + <p> + Visitors flocked to the convent which the young girl, by the advice of + Giselle, had chosen for her retreat because it was situated in a quiet + quarter. She who looked so beautiful in her crape garments, who showed + herself so satisfied in her little cell with hardly any furniture, who was + grateful for the services rendered her by the lay sisters, content with + having no salon but the convent parlor, who was passing examinations to + become a teacher, and who seemed to consider it a favor to be sometimes + allowed to hear the children in the convent school say their lessons—was + surely like a heroine in a novel. And indeed Jacqueline had the agreeable + sensation of considering herself one. Public admiration was a great help + to her, after she had passed through that crisis in her grief during which + she could feel nothing but the horror of knowing she should never see her + father again, when she had ceased to weep for him incessantly, to pray for + him, and to turn, like a wounded lioness, on those who blamed his reckless + conduct, though she herself had been its chief victim. + </p> + <p> + For three months she hardly left the convent, walking only in the grounds + and gardens, which were of considerable extent. From time to time Giselle + came for her and took her to drive in the Bois at that hour of the day + when few people were there. + </p> + <p> + Enguerrand, who, thanks to his mother’s care, was beginning to be an + intelligent and interesting child, though he was still painfully like M. + de Talbrun, was always with them in the coupe, kindhearted Giselle + thinking that nothing could be so likely to assuage grief as the prattle + of a child. She was astonished—she was touched to the heart, by what + she called naively the conversion of Jacqueline. It was true that the + young girl had no longer any whims or caprices. All the nuns seemed to her + amiable, her lodging was all she needed, her food was excellent; her + lessons gave her amusement. Possibly the excitement of the entire change + had much to do at first with this philosophy, and in fact at the end of + six months Jacqueline owned that she was growing tired of dining at the + table d’hote. + </p> + <p> + There was a little knot of crooked old ladies who were righteous overmuch, + and several sour old maids whose only occupation seemed to be to make + remarks on any person who had anything different in dress, manners, or + appearance from what they considered the type of the becoming. If it is + not good that man should live alone, it is equally true that women should + not live together. Jacqueline found this out as soon as her powers of + observation came back to her. And about the same time she discovered that + she was not so free as she had flattered herself she should be. The + appearance of a lady, fair and with light hair, very pretty and about her + own age, gave her for the first time an inclination to talk at table. She + and this young woman met twice a day at their meals, in the morning and in + the evening; their rooms were next each other, and at night Jacqueline + could hear her through the thin partition giving utterance to sighs, which + showed that she was unhappy. Several times, too, she came upon her in the + garden looking earnestly at a place where the wall had been broken, a spot + whence it was said a Spanish countess had been carried off by a bold + adventurer. Jacqueline thought there must be something romantic in the + history of this newcomer, and would have liked exceedingly to know what it + might be. As a prelude to acquaintance, she offered the young stranger + some holy water when they met in the chapel, a bow and a smile were + interchanged, their fingers touched. They seemed almost friends. After + this, Jacqueline contrived to change her seat at table to one next to this + unknown person, so prettily dressed, with her hair so nicely arranged, + and, though her expression was very sad, with a smile so very winning. She + alone represented the world, the world of Paris, among all those ladies, + some of whom were looking for places as companions, some having come up + from the provinces, and some being old ladies who had seen better days. + Her change of place was observed by the nun who presided at the table, and + a shade of displeasure passed over her face. It was slight, but it + portended trouble. And, indeed, when grace had been said, Mademoiselle de + Nailles was sent for by the Mother Superior, who gave her to understand + that, being so young, it was especially incumbent on her to be circumspect + in her choice of associates. Her place thenceforward was to be between + Madame de X——-, an old, deaf lady, and Mademoiselle J——-, + a former governess, as cold as ice and exceedingly respectable. As to + Madame Saville, she had been received in the convent for especial reasons, + arising out of circumstances which did not make her a fit companion for + inexperienced girls. The Superior hesitated a moment and then said: “Her + husband requested us to take charge of her,” in a tone by which Jacqueline + quite understood that “take charge” was a synonym for “keep a strict watch + upon her.” She was spied upon, she was persecuted—unjustly, no + doubt. + </p> + <p> + All this increased the interest that Jacqueline already felt in the lady + with the light hair. But she made a low curtsey to the Mother Superior and + returned no answer. Her intercourse with her neighbor was thenceforward; + however, sly and secret, which only made it more interesting and exciting. + They would exchange a few words when they met upon the stairs, in the + garden, or in the cloisters, when there was no curious eye to spy them + out; and the first time Jacqueline went out alone Madame Saville was on + the watch, and, without speaking, slipped a letter into her hand. + </p> + <p> + This first time Jacqueline went out was an epoch in her life, as small + events are sometimes in the annals of nations; it was the date of her + emancipation, it coincided with what she called her choice of a career. + Thinking herself sure of possessing a talent for teaching, she had spoken + of it to several friends who had come to see her, and who each and all + exclaimed that they would like some lessons, a delicate way of helping her + quite understood by Jacqueline. Pupils like Belle Ray and Yvonne + d’Etaples, who wanted her to come twice a week to play duets with them or + to read over new music, were not nearly so interesting as those in her + little class who had hardly more than learned their scales! Besides this, + Madame d’Avrigny begged her to come and dine with her, when there would be + only themselves, on Mondays, and then practise with Dolly, who had not + another moment in which she could take a lesson. She should be sent home + scrupulously before ten o’clock, that being the hour at the convent when + every one must be in. Jacqueline accepted all these kindnesses gratefully. + By Giselle’s advice she hid her slight figure under a loose cloak and put + on her head a bonnet fit for a grandmother, a closed hat with long + strings, which, when she first put it on her head, made her burst out + laughing. She imagined herself to be going forth in disguise. To walk the + streets thus masked she thought would be amusing, so amusing that the + moment she set foot on the street pavement she felt that the joy of living + was yet strong in her. With a roll of music in her hand, she walked on + rather hesitatingly, a little afraid, like a bird just escaped from the + cage where it was born; her heart beat, but it was with pleasure; she + fancied every one was looking at her, and in fact one old gentleman, not + deceived by the cloak, did follow her till she got into an omnibus for the + first time in her life—a new experience and a new pleasure. Once + seated, and a little out of breath, she remembered Madame Saville’s + letter, which she had slipped into her pocket. It was sealed and had a + stamp on it; it was too highly scented to be in good taste, and it was + addressed to a lieutenant of chasseurs with an aristocratic name, in a + garrison at Fontainebleau. + </p> + <p> + Then Jacqueline began vaguely to comprehend that Madame Saville’s husband + might have had serious reasons for commending his wife to the surveillance + of the nuns, and that there might have been some excuse for their + endeavoring to hinder all intimacy between herself and the little blonde. + </p> + <p> + This office of messenger, thrust upon her without asking permission, was + not agreeable to Jacqueline, and she resolved as she dropped the missive, + which, even on the outside, looked compromising, into the nearest + post-box, to be more reserved in future. For which reason she responded + coldly to a sign Madame Saville made her when, in the evening, she + returned from giving her lessons. + </p> + <p> + Those lessons—those excursions which took her abroad in all + weathers, though with praiseworthy and serious motives, into the + fashionable parts of Paris, from which she had exiled herself by her own + will—were greatly enjoyed by Jacqueline. Everything amused her, + being seen from a point of view in which she had never before contemplated + it. She seemed to be at a play, all personal interests forgotten for the + moment, looking at the world of which she was no longer a part with a + lively, critical curiosity, without regrets but without cynicism. The + world did not seem to her bad—only man’s higher instincts had little + part in it. Such, at least, was what she thought, so long as people + praised her for her courage, so long as the houses in which another + Jacqueline de Nailles had been once so brilliant, received her with + affection as before, though she had to leave in an anteroom her modest + waterproof or wet umbrella. They were even more kind and cordial to her + than ever, unless an exaggerated cordiality be one form of impertinence. + But the enthusiasm bestowed on splendid instances of energy in certain + circles, to which after all such energy is a reproach, is superficial, and + not being genuine is sure not to last long. Some people said that + Jacqueline’s staid manners were put on for effect, and that she was only + attempting to play a difficult part to which she was not suited; others + blamed her for not being up to concert-pitch in matters of social + interest. The first time she felt the pang of exclusion was at Madame + d’Avrigny’s, who was at the same moment overwhelming her with expressions + of regard. In the first place, she could see that the little family dinner + to which she had been so kindly invited was attended by so many guests + that her deep mourning seemed out of place among them. Then Madame + d’Avrigny would make whispered explanations, which Jacqueline was + conscious of, and which were very painful to her. Such words as: “Old + friend of the family;” “Is giving music lessons to my daughter;” fell more + than once upon her ear, followed by exclamations of “Poor thing!” “So + courageous!” “Chivalric sentiments!” Of course, everyone added that they + excused her toilette. Then when she tried to escape such remarks by + wearing a new gown, Dolly, who was always a little fool (there is no cure + for that infirmity) cried out in a tone such as she never would have dared + to use in the days when Jacqueline was a model of elegance: “Oh, how fine + you are!” Then again, Madame d’Avrigny, notwithstanding the good manners + on which she prided herself, could not conceal that the obligation of + sending home the recluse to the ends of the earth, at a certain hour, made + trouble with her servants, who were put out of their way. Jacqueline + seized on this pretext to propose to give up the Monday music-lesson, and + after some polite hesitation her offer was accepted, evidently to Madame + d’Avrigny’s relief. + </p> + <p> + In this case she had the satisfaction of being the one to propose the + discontinuance of the lessons. At Madame Ray’s she was simply dismissed. + About the close of winter she was told that as Isabelle was soon to be + married she would have no time for music till her wedding was over, and + about the same time the d’Etaples told her much the same thing. This was + not to be wondered at, for Mademoiselle Ray was engaged to an officer of + dragoons, the same Marcel d’Etaples who had acted with her in Scylla and + Charybdis, and Madame Ray, being a watchful mother, was not long in + perceiving that Marcel came to pay court to Isabelle too frequently at the + hour for her music-lesson. Madame d’Etaples on her part had made a similar + discovery, and both judged that the presence of so beautiful a girl, in + Jacqueline’s position, might not be desirable in these interviews between + lovers. + </p> + <p> + When Giselle, as she was about to leave town for the country in July, + begged Jacqueline, who seemed run down and out of spirits, to come and + stay with her, the poor child was very glad to accept the invitation. Her + pupils were leaving her one after another, she could not understand why, + and she was bored to death in the convent, whose strict rules were drawn + tighter on her than before, for the nuns had begun to understand her + better, and to discover the real worldliness of her character. At the same + time, that retreat within these pious walls no longer seemed like paradise + to Jacqueline; her transition from the deepest crape to the softer tints + of half mourning, seemed to make her less of an angel in their eyes. They + said to each other that Mademoiselle de Nailles was fanciful, and fancies + are the very last things wanted in a convent, for fancies can brave bolts, + and make their escape beyond stone walls, whatever means may be taken to + clip their wings. + </p> + <p> + “She does not seem like the same person,” cried the good sisters, who had + been greatly edified at first by her behavior, and who were almost ready + now to be shocked at her. + </p> + <p> + The course of things was coming back rapidly into its natural channel; in + obedience to the law which makes a tree, apparently dead, put forth shoots + in springtime. And that inevitable re-budding and reblossoming was + beautiful to see in this young human plant. M. de Talbrun, Jacqueline’s + host, could not fail to perceive it. At first he had been annoyed with + Giselle for giving the invitation, having a habit of finding fault with + everything he had not ordered or suggested, by virtue of his marital + authority, and also because he hated above all things, as he said, to have + people in his house who were “wobegones.” But in a week he was quite + reconciled to the idea of keeping Mademoiselle de Nailles all the summer + at the Chateau de Fresne. Never had Giselle known him to take so much + trouble to be amiable, and indeed Jacqueline saw him much more to + advantage at home than in Paris, where, as she had often said, he diffused + too strong an odor of the stables. At Fresne, it was more easy to forgive + him for talking always of his stud and of his kennel, and then he was so + obliging! Every day he proposed some new jaunt, an excursion to see some + view, to visit all the ruined chateaux or abbeys in the neighborhood. And, + with surprising delicacy, M. de Talbrun refrained from inviting too many + of his country neighbors, who might perhaps have scared Jacqueline and + arrested her gradual return to gayety. They might also have interrupted + his tete-a-tete with his wife’s guest, for they had many such + conversations. Giselle was absorbed in the duty of teaching her son his a, + b, c. Besides, being very timid, she had never ridden on horseback, and, + naturally, riding was delightful to her cousin. Jacqueline was never tired + of it; while she paid as little attention to the absurd remarks Oscar made + to her between their gallops as a girl does at a ball to the idle words of + her partner. She supposed it was his custom to talk in that manner—a + sort of rough gallantry—but with the best intentions. Jacqueline was + disposed to look upon her life at Fresne as a feast after a long famine. + Everything was to her taste, the whole appearance of this lordly chateau + of the time of Louis XIII, the splendid trees in the home park, the + gardens laid out ‘a la Francais’, decorated with art and kept up + carefully. Everything, indeed, that pertained to that high life which to + Giselle had so little importance, was to her delightful. Giselle’s taste + was so simple that it was a constant subject of reproach from her husband. + To be sure, it was with him a general rule to find fault with her about + everything. He did not spare her his reproaches on a multitude of + subjects; all day long he was worrying her about small trifles with which + he should have had nothing to do. It is a mistake to suppose that a man + can not be brutal and fussy at the same time. M. de Talbrun was proof to + the contrary. + </p> + <p> + “You are too patient,” said Jacqueline often to Giselle. “You ought to + answer him back—to defend yourself. I am sure if you did so you + would have him, by-and-bye, at your beck and call.” + </p> + <p> + “Perhaps so. I dare say you could have managed better than I do,” replied + Giselle, with a sad smile, but without a spark of jealousy. “Oh, you are + in high favor. He gave up this week the races at Deauville, the great race + week from which he has never before been absent, since our marriage. But + you see my ambition has become limited; I am satisfied if he lets me + alone.” Giselle spoke these words with emphasis, and then she added: “and + lets me bring up his son my own way. That is all I ask.” + </p> + <p> + Jacqueline thought in her heart that it was wrong to ask so little, that + poor Giselle did not know how to make the best of her husband, and, + curious to find out what line of conduct would serve best to subjugate M. + de Talbrun, she became herself—that is to say, a born coquette—venturing + from one thing to another, like a child playing fearlessly with a bulldog, + who is gentle only with him, or a fly buzzing round a spider’s web, while + the spider lies quietly within. + </p> + <p> + She would tease him, contradict him, and make him listen to long pieces of + scientific music as she played them on the piano, when she knew he always + said that music to him was nothing but a disagreeable noise; she would + laugh at his thanks when a final chord, struck with her utmost force, + roused him from a brief slumber; in short, it amused her to prove that + this coarse, rough man was to her alone no object of fear. She would have + done better had she been afraid. + </p> + <p> + Thus it came to pass that, as they rode together through some of the + prettiest roads in the most beautiful part of Normandy, M. de Talbrun + began to talk, with an ever-increasing vivacity, of the days when they + first met, at Treport, relating a thousand little incidents which + Jacqueline had forgotten, and from which it was easy to see that he had + watched her narrowly, though he was on the eve of his own marriage. With + unnecessary persistence, and stammering as he was apt to do when moved by + any emotion, he repeated over and over again, that from the first moment + he had seen her he had been struck by her—devilishly struck by her—he + had been, indeed! And one day when she answered, in order not to appear to + attach any importance to this declaration, that she was very glad of it, + he took an opportunity, as their horses stopped side by side before a + beautiful sunset, to put his arm suddenly round her waist, and give her a + kiss, so abrupt, so violent, so outrageous, that she screamed aloud. He + did not remove his arm from her, his coarse, red face drew near her own + again with an expression that filled her with horror. She struggled to + free herself, her horse began to rear, she screamed for help with all her + might, but nothing answered her save an echo. The situation seemed + critical for Jacqueline. As to M. de Talbrun, he was quite at his ease, as + if he were accustomed to make love like a centaur; while the girl felt + herself in peril of being thrown at any moment, and trampled under his + horse’s feet. At last she succeeded in striking her aggressor a sharp blow + across the face with her riding-whip. Blinded for a moment, he let her go, + and she took advantage of her release to put her horse to its full speed. + He galloped after her, beside himself with wrath and agitation; it was a + mad but silent race, until they reached the gate of the Chateau de Fresne, + which they entered at the same moment, their horses covered with foam. + </p> + <p> + “How foolish!” cried Giselle, coming to meet them. “Just see in what a + state you have brought home your poor horses.” + </p> + <p> + Jacqueline, pale and trembling, made no answer. M. de Talbrun, as he + helped her to dismount, whispered, savagely: “Not a word of this!” + </p> + <p> + At dinner, his wife remarked that some branch must have struck him on the + cheek, there was a red mark right across his face like a blow. + </p> + <p> + “We were riding through the woods,” he answered, shortly. + </p> + <p> + Then Giselle began to suspect something, and remarked that nobody was + talking that evening, asking, with a half-smile, whether they had been + quarrelling. + </p> + <p> + “We did have a little difference,” Oscar replied, quietly. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, it did not amount to anything,” he said, lighting his cigar; “let us + make friends again, won’t you?” he added, holding out his hand to + Jacqueline. She was obliged to give him the tips of her fingers, as she + said in her turn, with audacity equal to his own: + </p> + <p> + “Oh, it was less than nothing. Only, Giselle, I told your husband that I + had had some bad news, and shall have to go back to Paris, and he tried to + persuade me not to go.” + </p> + <p> + “I beg you not to go,” said Oscar, vehemently. + </p> + <p> + “Bad news?” repeated Giselle, “you did not say a word to me about it!” + </p> + <p> + “I did not have a chance. My old Modeste is very ill and asks me to come + to her. I should never forgive myself if I did not go.” + </p> + <p> + “What, Modeste? So very ill? Is it really so serious? What a pity! But you + will come back again?” + </p> + <p> + “If I can. But I must leave Fresne to-morrow morning.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I defy you to leave Fresne!” said M. de Talbrun. + </p> + <p> + Jacqueline leaned toward him, and said firmly, but in a low voice: “If you + attempt to hinder me, I swear I will tell everything.” + </p> + <p> + All that evening she did not leave Giselle’s side for a moment, and at + night she locked herself into her chamber and barricaded the door, as if a + mad dog or a murderer were at large in the chateau. + </p> + <p> + Giselle came into her room at an early hour. + </p> + <p> + “Is what you said yesterday the truth, Jacqueline? Is Modeste really ill? + Are you sure you have had no reason to complain of anybody in this place?—of + any one?” + </p> + <p> + Then, after a pause, she added: + </p> + <p> + “Oh, my darling, how hard it is to do good even to those whom we most + dearly love.” + </p> + <p> + “I don’t understand you,” said Jacqueline, with an effort. “Everybody has + been kind to me.” + </p> + <p> + They kissed each other with effusion, but M. de Talbrun’s leave-taking was + icy in the extreme. Jacqueline had made a mortal enemy. + </p> + <p> + The grand outline of the chateau, built of brick and stone with its wings + flanked by towers, the green turf of the great park in which it stood, + passed from her sight as she drove away, like some vision in a dream. + </p> + <p> + “I shall never come back—never come back!” thought Jacqueline. She + felt as if she had been thrust out everywhere. For one moment she thought + of seeking refuge at Lizerolles, which was not very many miles from the + railroad station, and when there of telling Madame d’Argy of her + difficulties, and asking her advice; but false pride kept her from doing + so—the same false pride which had made her write coldly, in answer + to the letters full of feeling and sympathy Fred had written to her on + receiving news of her father’s death. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0015" id="link2HCH0015"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XV. TREACHEROUS KINDNESS + </h2> + <p> + The experience through which Jacqueline had just passed was not calculated + to fortify her or to elevate her soul. She felt for the first time that + her unprotected situation and her poverty exposed her to insult, for what + other name could she give to the outrageous behavior of M. de Talbrun, + which had degraded her in her own eyes? + </p> + <p> + What right had that man to treat her as his plaything? Her pride and all + her womanly instincts rose up in rebellion. Her nerves had been so shaken + that she sobbed behind her veil all the way to her destination. Paris, + when she reached it, offered her almost nothing that could comfort or + amuse her. That city is always empty and dull in August, more so than at + any other season. Even the poor occupation of teaching her little class of + music pupils had been taken away by the holidays. Her sole resource was in + Modeste’s society. Modeste—who, by the way, had never been ill, and + who suffered from nothing but old age—was delighted to receive her + dear young lady in her little room far up under the roof, where, though + quite infirm, she lived comfortably, on her savings. Jacqueline, sitting + beside her as she sewed, was soothed by her old nursery tales, or by + anecdotes of former days. Her own relatives were often the old woman’s + theme. She knew the history of Jacqueline’s family from beginning to end; + but, wherever her story began, it invariably wound up with: + </p> + <p> + “If only your poor papa had not made away with all your money!” + </p> + <p> + And Jacqueline always answered: + </p> + <p> + “He was quite at liberty to do what he pleased with what belonged to him.” + </p> + <p> + “Belonged to him! Yes, but what belonged to you? And how does it happen + that your stepmother seems so well off? Why doesn’t some family council + interfere? My little pet, to think of your having to work for your living. + It’s enough to kill me!” + </p> + <p> + “Bah! Modeste, there are worse things than being poor.” + </p> + <p> + “Maybe so,” answered the old nurse, doubtfully, “but when one has money + troubles along with the rest, the money troubles make other things harder + to bear; whereas, if you have money enough you can bear anything, and you + would have had enough, after all, if you had married Monsieur Fred.” + </p> + <p> + At which point Jacqueline insisted that Modeste should be silent, and + answered, resolutely: “I mean never to marry at all.” + </p> + <p> + To this Modeste made answer: “That’s another of your notions. The worst + husband is always better than none; and I know, for I never married.” + </p> + <p> + “That’s why you talk such nonsense, my poor dear Modeste! You know nothing + about it.” + </p> + <p> + One day, after one of these visits to the only friend, as she believed, + who remained to her in the world—for her intimacy with Giselle was + spoiled forever—she saw, as she walked with a heavy heart toward her + convent in a distant quarter, an open fiacre pull up, in obedience to a + sudden cry from a passenger who was sitting inside. The person sprang out, + and rushed toward Jacqueline with loud exclamations of joy. + </p> + <p> + “Madame Strahlberg!” + </p> + <p> + “Dear Jacqueline! What a pleasure to meet you!” And, the street being + nearly empty, Madame Strahlberg heartily embraced her friend. + </p> + <p> + “I have thought of you so often, darling, for months past—they seem + like years, like centuries! Where have you been all that long time?” + </p> + <p> + In point of fact, Jacqueline had no proof that the three Odinska ladies + had ever remembered her existence, but that might have been partly her own + fault, or rather the fault of Giselle, who had made her promise to have as + little as possible to do with such compromising personages. She was seized + with a kind of remorse when she found such warmth of recognition from the + amiable Wanda. Had she not shown herself ungrateful and cowardly? People + about whom the world talks, are they not sometimes quite as good as those + who have not lost their standing in society, like M. de Talbrun? It seemed + to her that, go where she would, she ran risks. + </p> + <p> + The cynicism that is the result of sad experience was beginning to show + itself in Jacqueline. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, forgive me!” she said, feeling, contrite. + </p> + <p> + “Forgive you for what, you beautiful creature?” asked Madame Strahlberg, + with sincere astonishment. + </p> + <p> + She had the excellent custom of never observing when people neglected her, + or at least, of never showing that she did so, partly because her life was + so full of varied interests that she cared little for such trifles, and + secondly because, having endured several affronts of that nature, she had + ceased to be very sensitive. + </p> + <p> + “I knew, through the d’Avrignys,” she said, “that you were still at the + convent. You are not going to take the veil there, are you? It would be a + great pity. No? You wish to lead the life of an intelligent woman who is + free and independent? That is well; but it was rather an odd idea to begin + by going into a cloister. Oh!—I see, public opinion?” And Madame + Strahlberg made a little face, expressive of her contempt for public + opinion. + </p> + <p> + “It does not pay to consult other people’s opinions—it is useless, + believe me. The more we sacrifice to public opinion, the more it asks of + us. I cut that matter short long ago. But how glad I am to hear that you + don’t intend to hide that lovely face in a convent. You are looking better + than ever—a little too pale, still, perhaps—a little too + interesting. Colette will be so glad to see you, for you must let me take + you home with me. I shall carry you off, whether you will or not, now I + have caught you. We will have a little music just among ourselves, as we + had in the good old times—you know, our dear music; you will feel + like yourself again. Ah, art—there is nothing to compare with art in + this world, my darling!” + </p> + <p> + Jacqueline yielded without hesitation, only too glad of the unhoped-for + good fortune which relieved her from her ennui and her depression. And + soon the hired victoria was on its way to that quarter of the city which + is made up of streets with geographical names, and seems as if it were + intended to lodge all the nations under heaven. It stopped in the Rue de + Naples, before a house that was somewhat showy, but which showed from its + outside, that it was not inhabited by high-bred people. There were pink + linings to lace curtains at the windows, and quantities of green vines + drooped from the balconies, as if to attract attention from the + passers-by. Madame Strahlberg, with her ostentatious and undulating walk, + which caused men to turn and notice her as she went by, went swiftly up + the stairs to the second story. She put one finger on the electric bell, + which caused two or three little dogs inside to begin barking, and pushed + Jacqueline in before her, crying: “Colette! Mamma! See whom I have brought + back to you!” Meantime doors were hurriedly opened, quick steps resounded + in the antechamber, and the newcomer found herself received with a torrent + of affectionate and delighted exclamations, pressed to the ample bosom of + Madame Odinska, covered with kisses by Colette, and fawned upon by the + three toy terriers, the most sociable of their kind in all Paris, their + mistresses declared. + </p> + <p> + Jacqueline was passing through one of those moments when one is at the + mercy of chance, when the heart which has been closed by sorrow suddenly + revives, expands, and softens under the influence of a ray of sunshine. + Tears came into her eyes, and she murmured: + </p> + <p> + “My friends—my kind friends!” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, your friends, whatever happens, now and always,” said Colette, + eagerly, though she had probably barely given a thought to Jacqueline for + eighteen months. Nevertheless, on seeing her, Colette really thought she + had not for a moment ceased to be fond of her. “How you have suffered, you + poor pussy! We must set to work and make you feel a little gay, at any + price. You see, it is our duty. How lucky you came to-day—” + </p> + <p> + A sign from her sister stopped her. + </p> + <p> + They carried Jacqueline into a large and handsome salon, full of dust and + without curtains, with all the furniture covered up as if the family were + on the eve of going to the country. Madame Strahlberg, nevertheless, was + not about to leave Paris, her habit being to remain there in the summer, + sometimes for months, picnicking as it were, in her own apartment. What + was curious, too, was that the chandelier and all the side-lights had + fresh wax candles, and seats were arranged as if in preparation for a + play, while near the grand piano was a sort of stage, shut off from the + rest of the room by screens. + </p> + <p> + Colette sat down on one of the front row of chairs and cried: “I am the + audience—I am all ears.” Her sister hurriedly explained all this to + Jacqueline, with out waiting to be questioned: “We have been giving some + little summer entertainments of late, of which you see the remains.” She + went at once to the piano, and incited Jacqueline to sing by beginning one + of their favorite duets, and Jacqueline, once more in her native element, + followed her lead. They went on from one song to another, from the light + to the severe, from scientific music to mere tunes and airs, turning over + the old music-books together. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, you are a little out of practice, but all you have to do is to rub + off the rust. Your voice is finer than ever—just like velvet.” And + Madame Strahlberg pretended that she envied the fine mezzo-soprano, + speaking disparagingly of her own little thread of a voice, which, + however, she managed so skilfully. “What a shame to take up your time + teaching, with such a voice as that!” she cried; “you are out of your + senses, my dear, you are raving mad. It would be sinful to keep your gifts + to yourself! I am very sorry to discourage you, but you have none of the + requisites for a teacher. The stage would be best for you—‘Mon Dieu! + why not? You will see La Rochette this evening; she is a person who would + give you good advice. I wish she could hear you!” + </p> + <p> + “But my dear friend, I can not stay,” murmured Jacqueline, for those + unexpected words “the stage, why not?” rang in her head, made her heart + beat fast, and made lights dance before her eyes. “They are expecting me + to dine at home.” + </p> + <p> + “At your convent? I beg your pardon, I’ll take care of that. Don’t you + know me? My claws seldom let go of a prize, especially when that prize is + worth the keeping. A little telegram has already been sent, with your + excuses. The telegraph is good for that, if not for anything else: it + facilitates ‘impromptus’.” + </p> + <p> + “Long live impromptus,” cried out Colette, “there is nothing like them for + fun!” And while Jacqueline was trying to get away, not knowing exactly + what she was saying, but frightened, pleased, and much excited, Colette + went on: “Oh! I am so glad, so glad you came to-day; now you can see the + pantomime! I dreamed, wasn’t it odd, only last night, that you were acting + it with us. How can one help believing in presentiments? Mine are always + delightful—and yours?” + </p> + <p> + “The pantomime?” repeated Jacqueline in bewilderment, “but I thought your + sister told me you were all alone.” + </p> + <p> + “How could we have anything like company in August?” said Madame + Strahlberg, interrupting her; “why, it would be impossible, there are not + four cats in Paris. No, no, we sha’n’t have anybody. A few friends + possibly may drop in—people passing through Paris—in their + travelling-dresses. Nothing that need alarm you. The pantomime Colette + talks about is only a pretext that they may hear Monsieur Szmera.” + </p> + <p> + And who was M. Szmera? + </p> + <p> + Jacqueline soon learned that he was a Hungarian, second half-cousin of a + friend of Kossuth, the most wonderful violinist of the day, who had + apparently superseded the famous Polish pianist in these ladies’ interest + and esteem. As for the latter, they had almost forgotten his name, he had + behaved so badly. + </p> + <p> + “But,” said Jacqueline, anxiously, “you know I am obliged to be home by + ten o’clock.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah! that’s like Cinderella,” laughed Wanda. “Will the stroke of the clock + change all the carriages in Paris into pumpkins? One can get ‘fiacres’ at + any hour.” + </p> + <p> + “But it is a fixed rule: I must be in,” repeated Jacqueline, growing very + uneasy. + </p> + <p> + “Must you really? Madame Saville says it is very easy to manage those nuns—” + </p> + <p> + “What? Do you know Madame Saville, who was boarding at the convent last + winter?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, indeed; she is a countrywoman of ours, a friend, the most charming + of women. You will see her here this evening. She has gained her divorce + suit—” + </p> + <p> + “You are mistaken,” said Colette, “she has lost it. But that makes no + difference. She has got tired of her husband. Come, say ‘Yes,’ Jacqueline—a + nice, dear ‘Yes’—you will stay, will you not? Oh, you darling!” + </p> + <p> + They dined without much ceremony, on the pretext that the cook had been + turned off that morning for impertinence, but immediately after dinner + there was a procession of boys from a restaurant, bringing whipped creams, + iced drinks, fruits, sweetmeats, and champagne—more than would have + been wanted at the buffet of a ball. The Prince, they said, had sent these + things. What Prince? + </p> + <p> + As Jacqueline was asking this question, a gentleman came in whose age it + would have been impossible to guess, so disguised was he by his black wig, + his dyed whiskers, and the soft bloom on his cheeks, all of which were + entirely out of keeping with those parts of his face that he could not + change. In one of his eyes was stuck a monocle. He was bedizened with + several orders, he bowed with military stiffness, and kissed with much + devotion the ladies’ hands, calling them by titles, whether they had them + or not. His foreign accent made it as hard to detect his nationality as it + was to know his age. Two or three other gentlemen, not less decorated and + not less foreign, afterward came in. Colette named them in a whisper to + Jacqueline, but their names were too hard for her to pronounce, much less + to remember. One of them, a man of handsome presence, came accompanied by + a sort of female ruin, an old lady leaning on a cane, whose head, every + time she moved, glittered with jewels, placed in a very lofty erection of + curled hair. + </p> + <p> + “That gentleman’s mother is awfully ugly,” Jacqueline could not help + saying. + </p> + <p> + “His mother? What, the Countess? She is neither his mother nor his wife. + He is her gentleman-in-waiting-that’s all. Don’t you understand? Well, + imagine a man who is a sort of ‘gentleman-companion’; he keeps her + accounts, he escorts her to the theatre, he gives her his arm. It is a + very satisfactory arrangement.” + </p> + <p> + “The gentleman receives a salary, in such a case?” inquired Jacqueline, + much amused. + </p> + <p> + “Why, what do you find in it so extraordinary?” said Colette. “She adores + cards, and there he is, always ready to be her partner. Oh, here comes + dear Madame Saville!” + </p> + <p> + There were fresh cries of welcome, fresh exchanges of affectionate + diminutives and kisses, which seemed to make the Prince’s mouth water. + Jacqueline discovered, to her great surprise, that she, too, was a dear + friend of Madame Saville’s, who called her her good angel, in reference, + no doubt, to the letter she had secretly put into the post. At last she + said, trying to make her escape from the party: “But it must be nine + o’clock.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh! but—you must hear Szmera.” + </p> + <p> + A handsome young fellow, stoutly built, with heavy eyebrows, a hooked + nose, a quantity of hair growing low upon his forehead, and lips that were + too red, the perfect type of a Hungarian gypsy, began a piece of his own + composition, which had all the ardor of a mild ‘galopade’ and a Satanic + hunt, with intervals of dying sweetness, during which the painted skeleton + they called the Countess declared that she certainly heard a nightingale + warbling in the moonlight. + </p> + <p> + This charming speech was forthwith repeated by her “umbra” in all parts of + the room, which was now nearly filled with people, a mixed multitude, some + of whom were frantic about music, others frantic about Wanda Strahlberg. + There were artists and amateurs present, and even respectable women, for + Madame d’Avrigny, attracted by the odor of a species of Bohemianism, had + come to breathe it with delight, under cover of a wish to glean ideas for + her next winter’s receptions. + </p> + <p> + Then again there were women who had been dropped out of society, like + Madame de Versanne, who, with her sunken eyes and faded face, was not + likely again to pick up in the street a bracelet worth ten thousand + francs. There was a literary woman who signed herself Fraisiline, and + wrote papers on fashion—she was so painted and bedizened that some + one remarked that the principal establishments she praised in print + probably paid her in their merchandise. There was a dowager whose + aristocratic name appeared daily on the fourth page of the newspapers, + attesting the merits of some kind of quack medicine; and a retired + opera-singer, who, having been called Zenaide Rochet till she grew up in + Montmartre, where she was born, had had a brilliant career as a star in + Italy under the name of Zina Rochette. La Rochette’s name, alas! is + unknown to the present generation. + </p> + <p> + In all, there were about twenty persons, who made more noise with their + applause than a hundred ordinary guests, for enthusiasm was exacted by + Madame Strahlberg. Profiting by the ovation to the Hungarian musician, + Jacqueline made a movement toward the door, but just as she reached it she + had the misfortune of falling in with her old acquaintance, Nora Sparks, + who was at that moment entering with her father. She was forced to sit + down again and hear all about Kate’s marriage. Kate had gone back to New + York, her husband being an American, but Nora said she had made up her + mind not to leave Europe till she had found a satisfactory match. + </p> + <p> + “You had better make haste about it, if you expect to keep me here,” said + Mr. Sparks, with a peculiar expression in his eye. He was eager to get + home, having important business to attend to in the West. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, papa, be quiet! I shall find somebody at Bellagio. Why, darling, are + you still in mourning?” + </p> + <p> + She had forgotten that Jacqueline had lost her father. Probably she would + not have thought it necessary to wear black so long for Mr. Sparks. + Meantime, Madame Strahlberg and her sister had left the room. + </p> + <p> + “When are they coming back?” said Jacqueline, growing very nervous. “It + seems to me this clock must be wrong. It says half-past nine. I am sure it + must be later than that.” + </p> + <p> + “Half-past nine!—why, it is past eleven,” replied Miss Nora, with a + giggle. “Do you suppose they pay any attention to clocks in this house? + Everything here is topsy-turvy.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh! what shall I do?” sighed poor Jacqueline, on the verge of tears. + </p> + <p> + “Why, do they keep you such a prisoner as that? Can’t you come in a little + late—” + </p> + <p> + “They wouldn’t open the doors—they never open the doors on any + pretext after ten o’clock,” cried Jacqueline, beside herself. + </p> + <p> + “Then your nuns must be savages? You should teach them better.” + </p> + <p> + “Don’t be worried, dear little one, you can sleep on this sofa,” said + Madame Odinska, kindly. + </p> + <p> + To whom had she not offered that useful sofa? Wanda and Colette were just + as ready to propose that others should spend the night with them as, on + the smallest pretext, to accept the same hospitality from others. Wanda, + indeed, always slept curled up like a cat on a divan, in a fur wrapper, + which she put on early in the evening when she wanted to smoke cigarettes. + She went to sleep at no regular hour. A bear’s skin was placed always + within her reach, so that if she were cold she could draw it over her. + Jacqueline, not being accustomed to these Polish fashions, did not seem to + be much attracted by the offer of the sofa. She blamed herself bitterly + for her own folly in having got herself into a scrape which might lead to + serious consequences. + </p> + <p> + But this was neither time nor place for expressions of anxiety; it would + be absurd to trouble every one present with her regrets. Besides, the harm + was done—it was irreparable—and while she was turning over in + her mind in what manner she could explain to the Mother Superior that the + mistake about the hour had been no fault of hers—and the Mother + Superior, alas! would be sure to make inquiries as to the friends whom she + had visited—the magic violin of M. Szmera played its first notes, + accompanied by Madame Odinska on the piano, and by a delicious little + flute. They played an overture, the dreamy sweetness of which extorted + cries of admiration from all the women. + </p> + <p> + Suddenly, the screens parted, and upon the little platform that + represented a stage bounded a sort of anomalous being, supple and + charming, in the traditional dress of Pierrot, whom the English vulgarize + and call Harlequin. He had white camellias instead of buttons on his loose + white jacket, and the bright eyes of Wanda shone out from his + red-and-white face. He held a mandolin, and imitated the most charming of + serenades, before a make-believe window, which, being opened by a white, + round arm, revealed Colette, dressed as Colombine. + </p> + <p> + The little pantomime piece was called ‘Pierrot in Love’. It consisted of a + series of dainty coquetries, sudden quarrels, fits of jealousy, and tender + reconciliations, played by the two sisters. Colette with her beauty, Wanda + with her talent, her impishness, her graceful and voluptuous attitudes, + electrified the spectators, especially in a long monologue, in which + Pierrot contemplated suicide, made more effective by the passionate and + heart-piercing strains of the Hungarian’s violin, so that old Rochette + cried out: “What a pity such a wonder should not be upon the stage!” La + Rochette, now retired into private life, wearing an old dress, with her + gray hair and her black eyes, like those of a watchful crocodile, took the + pleasure in the pantomime that all actors do to the very last in + everything connected with the theatre. She cried ‘brava’ in tones that + might reach Italy; she blew kisses to the actors in default of flowers. + </p> + <p> + Madame d’Avrigny was also transported to the sixth heaven, but + Jacqueline’s presence somewhat marred her pleasure. When she first + perceived her she had shown great surprise. “You here, my dear?” she + cried, “I thought you safe with our own excellent Giselle.” + </p> + <p> + “Safe, Madame? It seems to me one can be safe anywhere,” Jacqueline + answered, though she was tempted to say “safe nowhere;” but instead she + inquired for Dolly. + </p> + <p> + Dolly’s mother bit her lips and then replied: “You see I have not brought + her. Oh, yes, this house is very amusing—but rather too much so. The + play was very pretty, and I am sorry it would not do at my house. It is + too—too ‘risque’, you know;” and she rehearsed her usual speech + about the great difficulties encountered by a lady who wished to give + entertainments and provide amusement for her friends. + </p> + <p> + Meantime Pierrot, or rather Madame Strahlberg, had leaped over an + imaginary barrier and came dancing toward the company, shaking her large + sleeves and settling her little snake-like head in her large quilled + collar, dragging after her the Hungarian, who seemed not very willing. She + presented him to Madame d’Avrigny, hoping that so fashionable a woman + might want him to play at her receptions during the winter, and to a + journalist who promised to give him a notice in his paper, provided—and + here he whispered something to Pierrot, who, smiling, answered neither yes + nor no. The sisters kept on their costumes; Colette was enchanting with + her bare neck, her long-waisted black velvet corsage, her very short + skirt, and a sort of three-cornered hat upon her head. All the men paid + court to her, and she accepted their homage, becoming gayer and gayer at + every compliment, laughing loudly, possibly that her laugh might exhibit + her beautiful teeth. + </p> + <p> + Wanda, as Pierrot, sang, with her hands in her pockets, a Russian village + song: “Ah! Dounai-li moy Dounai” (“Oh! thou, my Danube”). Then she + imperiously called Jacqueline to the piano:—“It is your turn now,” + she said, “most humble violet.” + </p> + <p> + Up to that moment, Jacqueline’s deep mourning had kept the gentlemen + present from addressing her, though she had been much stared at. Although + she did not wish to sing, for her heart was heavy as she thought of the + troubles that awaited her the next day at the convent, she sang what was + asked of her without resistance or pretension. Then, for the first time, + she experienced the pride of triumph. Szmera, though he was furious at not + being the sole lion of the evening, complimented her, bowing almost to the + ground, with one hand on his heart; Madame Rochette assured her that she + had a fortune in her throat whenever she chose to seek it; persons she had + never seen and who did not know her name, pressed her hands fervently, + saying that her singing was adorable. All cried “Encore,” “Encore!” and, + yielding to the pleasure of applause, she thought no more of the flight of + time. Dawn was peeping through the windows when the party broke up. + </p> + <p> + “What kind people!” thought the debutante, whom they had encouraged and + applauded; “some perhaps are a little odd, but how much cordiality and + warmth there is among them! It is catching. This is the sort of atmosphere + in which talent should live.” + </p> + <p> + Being very much fatigued, she fell asleep upon the offered sofa, + half-pleased, half-frightened, but with two prominent convictions: one, + that she was beginning to return to life; the other, that she stood on the + edge of a precipice. In her dreams old Rochette appeared to her, her face + like that of an affable frog, her dress the dress of Pierrot, and she + croaked out, in a variety of tones: “The stage! Why not? Applauded every + night—it would be glorious!” Then she seemed in her dream to be + falling, falling down from a great height, as one falls from fairyland + into stern reality. She opened her eyes: it was noon. Madame Odinska was + waiting for her: she intended herself to take her to the convent, and for + that purpose had assumed the imposing air of a noble matron. + </p> + <p> + Alas! it was in vain! Jacqueline, was made to understand that such an + infraction of the rules could not be overlooked. To pass the night without + leave out of the convent, and not with her own family, was cause for + expulsion. Neither the prayers nor the anger of Madame Odinska had any + power to change the sentence. While the Mother Superior calmly pronounced + her decree, she was taking the measure of this stout foreigner who + appeared in behalf of Jacqueline, a woman overdressed, yet at the same + time shabby, who had a far from well-bred or aristocratic air. “Out of + consideration for Madame de Talbrun,” she said, “the convent consents to + keep Mademoiselle de Nailles a few days longer—a few weeks perhaps, + until she can find some other place to go. That is all we can do for her.” + </p> + <p> + Jacqueline listened to this sentence as she might have watched a game of + dice when her fate hung on the result, but she showed no emotion. “Now,” + she thought, “my fate has been decided; respectable people will have + nothing more to do with me. I will go with the others, who, perhaps, after + all are not worse, and who most certainly are more amusing.” + </p> + <p> + A fortnight after this, Madame de Nailles, having come back to Paris, from + some watering-place, was telling Marien that Jacqueline had started for + Bellagio with Mr. and Miss Sparks, the latter having taken a notion that + she wanted that kind of chaperon who is called a companion in England and + America. + </p> + <p> + “But they are of the same age,” said Marien. + </p> + <p> + “That is just what Miss Sparks wants. She does not wish to be hampered by + an elderly chaperon, but to be accompanied, as she would have been by her + sister.” + </p> + <p> + “Jacqueline will be exposed to see strange things; how could you have + consented—” + </p> + <p> + “Consented? As if she cared for my consent! And then she manages to say + such irritating things as soon as one attempts to blame her or advise her. + For example, this is one of them: ‘Don’t you suppose,’ she said to me, + ‘that every one will take the most agreeable chance that offers for a + visit to Italy?’ What do you think of that allusion? It closed my lips + absolutely.” + </p> + <p> + “Perhaps she did not mean what you think she meant.” + </p> + <p> + “Do you think so? And when I warned her against Madame Strahlberg, saying + that she might set her a very bad example, she answered: ‘I may have had + worse.’ I suppose that was not meant for impertinence either!” + </p> + <p> + “I don’t know,” said Hubert Marien, biting his lips doubtfully, “but—” + </p> + <p> + He was silent a few moments, his head drooped on his breast, he was in + some painful reverie. + </p> + <p> + “Go on. What are you thinking about?” asked Madame de Nailles, + impatiently. + </p> + <p> + “I beg your pardon. I was only thinking that a certain responsibility + might rest on those who have made that young girl what she is.” + </p> + <p> + “I don’t understand you,” said the stepmother, with an impatient gesture. + “Who can do anything to counteract a bad disposition? You don’t deny that + hers is bad? She is a very devil for pride and obstinacy—she has no + affection—she has proved it. I have no inclination to get myself + wounded by trying to control her.” + </p> + <p> + “Then you prefer to let her ruin herself?” + </p> + <p> + “I should prefer not to give the world a chance to talk, by coming to an + open rupture with her, which would certainly be the case if I tried to + contradict her. After all, the Sparks and Madame Odinska are not yet put + out of the pale of good society, and she knew them long ago. An early + intimacy may be a good explanation if people blame her for going too far—” + </p> + <p> + “So be it, then; if you are satisfied it is not for me to say anything,” + replied Marien, coldly. + </p> + <p> + “Satisfied? I am not satisfied with anything or anybody,” said Madame de + Nailles, indignantly. “How could I be satisfied; I never have met with + anything but ingratitude.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0016" id="link2HCH0016"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XVI. THE SAILOR’S RETURN + </h2> + <p> + Madame D’Argy did not leave her son in ignorance of all the freaks and + follies of Jacqueline. He knew every particular of the wrong-doings and + the imprudences of his early friend, and even the additions made to them + by calumny, ever since the fit of in dependence which, after her father’s + death, had led her to throw off all control. She told of her sudden + departure from Fresne, where she might have found so safe a refuge with + her friend and cousin. Then had not her own imprudence and coquetry led to + a rupture with the families of d’Etaples and Ray? She told of the + scandalous intimacy with Madame Strahlberg; of her expulsion from the + convent, where they had discovered, even before she left, that she had + been in the habit of visiting undesirable persons; and finally she + informed him that Jacqueline had gone to Italy with an old Yankee and his + daughter—he being a man, it was said, who had laid the foundation of + his colossal fortune by keeping a bar-room in a mining camp in California. + This last was no fiction, the cut of Mr. Sparks’s beard and his unpolished + manners left no doubt on the subject; and she wound up by saying that + Madame d’Avrigny, whom no one could accuse of ill-nature, had been grieved + at meeting this unhappy girl in very improper company, among which she + seemed quite in her element, like a fish in water. It was said also that + she was thinking of studying for the stage with La Rochette—M. de + Talbrun had heard it talked about in the foyer of the Opera by an old + Prince from some foreign country—she could not remember his name, + but he was praising Madame Strahlberg without any reserve as the most + delightful of Parisiennes. Thereupon Talbrun had naturally forbidden his + wife to have anything to do with Jacqueline, or even to write to her. Fat + Oscar, though he was not all that he ought to be himself, had some very + strict notions of propriety. No one was more particular about family + relations, and really in this case no one could blame him; but Giselle had + been very unhappy, and to the very last had tried to stand up for her + unhappy friend. Having told him all this, she added, she would say no more + on the subject. + </p> + <p> + Giselle was a model woman in everything, in tact, in goodness, in good + sense, and she was very attentive to the poor old mother of Fred, who but + for her must have died long ago of loneliness and sorrow. Thereupon ensued + the poor lady’s usual lamentations over the long, long absence of her + beloved son; as usual, she told him she did not think she should live to + see him back again; she gave him a full account of her maladies, caused, + or at least aggravated, by her mortal, constant, incurable sorrow; and she + told how Giselle had been nursing her with all the patience and devotion + of a Sister of Charity. Through all Madame d’Argy’s letters at this period + the angelic figure of Giselle was contrasted with the very different one + of that young and incorrigible little devil of a Jacqueline. + </p> + <p> + Fred at first believed his mother’s stories were all exaggeration, but the + facts were there, corroborated by the continued silence of the person + concerned. He knew his mother to be too good wilfully to blacken the + character of one whom for years she had hoped would be her + daughter-in-law, the only child of her best friend, the early love of her + son. But by degrees he fancied that the love so long living at the bottom + of his heart was slowly dying, that it had been extinguished, that nothing + remained of it but remembrance, such remembrance as we retain for dead + things, a remembrance without hope, whose weight added to the homesickness + which with him was increasing every day. + </p> + <p> + There was no active service to enable him to endure exile. The heroic + period of the war had passed. Since a treaty of peace had been signed with + China, the fleet, which had distinguished itself in so many small + engagements and bombardments, had had nothing to do but to mount guard, as + it were, along a conquered coast. All round it in the bay, where it lay at + anchor, rose mountains of strange shapes, which seemed to shut it into a + kind of prison. This feeling of nothing to be done—of nothing likely + to be done, worked in Fred’s head like a nightmare. The only thing he + thought of was how he could escape, when could he once more kiss the faded + cheeks of his mother, who often, when he slept or lay wakeful during the + long hours of the siesta, he saw beside him in tears. Hers was the only + face that he recalled distinctly; to her and to her only were devoted his + long reveries when on watch; that time when he formerly composed his love + verses, tender or angry, or full of despair. That was all over! A sort of + mournful resignation had succeeded his bursts of excited feeling, his + revolt against his fate. + </p> + <p> + This was Fred’s state of mind when he received orders to return home—orders + as unexpected as everything seems to be in the life of a naval man. “I am + going back to her!” he cried. Her was his mother, her was France. All the + rest had disappeared as if into a fog. Jacqueline was a phantom of the + past; so many things had happened since the old times when he had loved + her. He had crossed the Indian Ocean and the China Sea; he had seen long + stretches of interminable coast-line; he had beheld misery, and glory, and + all the painful scenes that wait on warfare; he had seen pestilence, and + death in every shape, and all this had wrought in him a sort of stoicism, + the result of long acquaintance with solitude and danger. He remembered + his old love as a flower he had once admired as he passed it, a + treacherous flower, with thorns that had wounded him. There are flowers + that are beneficent, and flowers that are poisonous, and the last are + sometimes the most beautiful. They should not be blamed, he thought; it + was their nature to be hurtful; but it was well to pass them by and not to + gather them. + </p> + <p> + By the time he had debarked Fred had made up his mind to let his mother + choose a wife for him, a daughter-in-law suited to herself, who would give + her the delight of grandchildren, who would bring them up well, and who + would not weary of Lizerolles. But a week later the idea of this kind of + marriage had gone out of his head, and this change of feeling was partly + owing to Giselle. Giselle gave him a smile of welcome that went to his + heart, for that poor heart, after all, was only waiting for a chance again + to give itself away. She was with Madame d’Argy, who had not been well + enough to go to the sea-coast to meet her son, and he saw at the same + moment the pale and aged face which had visited him at Tonquin in his + dreams, and a fair face that he had never before thought so beautiful, + more oval than he remembered it, with blue eyes soft and tender, and a + mouth with a sweet infantine expression of sincerity and goodness. His + mother stretched out her trembling arms, gave a great cry, and fainted + away. + </p> + <p> + “Don’t be alarmed; it is only joy,” said Giselle, in her soft voice. + </p> + <p> + And when Madame d’Argy proved her to be right by recovering very quickly, + overwhelming her son with rapid questions and covering him with kisses, + Giselle held out her hand to him and said: + </p> + <p> + “I, too, am very glad you have come home.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh!” cried the sick woman in her excitement, “you must kiss your old + playfellow!” + </p> + <p> + Giselle blushed a little, and Fred, more embarrassed than she, lightly + touched with his lips her pretty smooth hair which shone upon her head + like a helmet of gold. Perhaps it was this new style of hairdressing which + made her seem so much more beautiful than he remembered her, but it seemed + to him he saw her for the first time; while, with the greatest eagerness, + notwithstanding Giselle’s attempts to interrupt her, Madame d’Argy + repeated to her son all she owed to that dear friend “her own daughter, + the best of daughters, the most patient, the most devoted of daughters, + could not have done more! Ah! if there only could be found another one + like her!” + </p> + <p> + Whereupon the object of all these praises made her escape, disclaiming + everything. + </p> + <p> + Why, after this, should she have hesitated to come back to Lizerolles + every day, as of late had been her custom? Men know so little about taking + care of sick people. So she came, and was present at all the rejoicings + and all the talks that followed Fred’s return. She took her part in the + discussions about Fred’s future. “Help me, my pet,” said Madame d’Argy, + “help me to find a wife for him: all we ask is that she should be like + you.” + </p> + <p> + In answer to which Fred declared, half-laughing and half-seriously, that + that was his ideal. + </p> + <p> + She did not believe much of this, but, following her natural instinct, she + assumed the dangerous task of consolation, until, as Madame d’Argy grew + better, she discontinued her daily visits, and Fred, in his turn, took a + habit of going over to Fresne without being invited, and spending there a + good deal of his time. + </p> + <p> + “Don’t send me away. You who are always charitable,” he said. “If you only + knew what a pleasure a Parisian conversation is after coming from + Tonquin!” + </p> + <p> + “But I am so little of a Parisienne, or at least what you mean by that + term, and my conversation is not worth coming for,” objected Giselle. + </p> + <p> + In her extreme modesty she did not realize how much she had gained in + intellectual culture. Women left to themselves have time to read, and + Giselle had done this all the more because she had considered it a duty. + Must she not know enough to instruct and superintend the education of her + son? With much strong feeling, yet with much simplicity, she spoke to Fred + of this great task, which sometimes frightened her; he gave her his + advice, and both discussed together the things that make up a good man. + Giselle brought up frequently the subject of heredity: she named no one, + but Fred could see that she had a secret terror lest Enguerrand, who in + person was very like his father, might also inherit his character. Fears + on this subject, however, appeared unfounded. There was nothing about the + child that was not good; his tastes were those of his mother. He was + passionately fond of Fred, climbing on his lap as soon as the latter + arrived and always maintaining that he, too, wanted a pretty red ribbon to + wear in his buttonhole, a ribbon only to be got by sailing far away over + the seas, like sailors. + </p> + <p> + “A sailor! Heaven forbid!” cried Madame de Talbrun. + </p> + <p> + “Oh! sailors come back again. He has come back. Couldn’t he take me away + with him soon? I have some stories about cabin-boys who were not much + older than I.” + </p> + <p> + “Let us hope that your friend Fred won’t go away,” said Giselle. “But why + do you wish to be a cabinboy?” + </p> + <p> + “Because I want to go away with him, if he does not stay here—because + I like him,” answered Enguerrand in a tone of decision. + </p> + <p> + Hereupon Giselle kissed her boy with more than usual tenderness. He would + not take to the hunting-field, she thought, the boulevard, and the corps + de ballet. She would not lose him. “But, oh, Fred!” she cried, “it is not + to be wondered at that he is so fond of you! You spoil him! You will be a + devoted father some day; your vocation is evidently for marriage.” + </p> + <p> + She thought, in thus speaking, that she was saying what Madame d’Argy + would like her to say. + </p> + <p> + “In the matter of children, I think your son is enough for me,” he said, + one day; “and as for marriage, you would not believe how all women—I + mean all the young girls among whom I should have to make a choice—are + indifferent to me. My feeling almost amounts to antipathy.” + </p> + <p> + For the first time she ventured to say: “Do you still care for + Jacqueline?” + </p> + <p> + “About as much as she cares for me,” he answered, dryly. “No, I made a + mistake once, and that has made me cautious for the future.” + </p> + <p> + Another day he said: + </p> + <p> + “I know now who was the woman I ought to have loved.” + </p> + <p> + Giselle did not look up; she was devoting all her attention to Enguerrand. + </p> + <p> + Fred held certain theories which he used to talk about. He believed in a + high, spiritual, disinterested affection which would raise a man above + himself, making him more noble, inspiring a disgust for all ignoble + pleasures. The woman willing to accept such homage might do anything she + pleased with a heart that would be hers alone. She would be the lady who + presided over his life, for whose sake all good deeds and generous actions + would be done, the idol, higher than a wife or any object of earthly + passion, the White Angel whom poets have sung. + </p> + <p> + Giselle pretended that she did not understand him, but she was divinely + happy. This, then, was the reward of her spotless life! She was the object + of a worship no less tender than respectful. Fred spoke of the woman he + ought to have loved as if he meant to say, “I love you;” he pressed his + lips on the auburn curls of little Enguerrand where his mother had just + kissed him. Day after day he seemed more attracted to that salon where, + dressed with more care than she had ever dressed before, she expected him. + Then awoke in her the wish to please, and she was beautiful with that + beauty which is not the insipid beauty of St. Agnes, but that which, + superior to all other, is seen when the face reflects the soul. All that + winter there was a new Giselle—a Giselle who passed away again among + the shadows, a Giselle of whom everybody said, even her husband, “Ma foi! + but she is beautiful!” Oscar de Talbrun, as he made this remark, never + thought of wondering why she was more beautiful. He was ready to take + offense and was jealous by nature, but he was perfectly sure of his wife, + as he had often said. As to Fred, the idea of being jealous of him would + never have entered his mind. Fred was a relative and was admitted to all + the privileges of a cousin or a brother; besides, he was a fellow of no + consequence in any way. + </p> + <p> + While this platonic attachment grew stronger and stronger between Fred and + Giselle, assisted by the innocent complicity of little Enguerrand, + Jacqueline was discovering how hard it is for a girl of good birth, if she + is poor, to carry out her plans of honest independence. Possibly she had + allowed herself to be too easily misled by the title of “companion,” + which, apparently more cordial than that of ‘demoiselle de compagnie’, + means in reality the same thing—a sort of half-servile position. + </p> + <p> + Money is a touchstone which influences all social relations, especially + when on one side there is a somewhat morbid susceptibility, and on the + other a lack of good breeding and education. The Sparks, father and + daughter, Americans of the lower class, though willing to spend any number + of dollars for their own pleasure, expected that every penny they + disbursed should receive its full equivalent in service; the place + therefore offered so gracefully and spontaneously to Mademoiselle de + Nailles was far from being a sinecure. Jacqueline received her salary on + the same footing as Justine, the Parisian maid, received her wages, for, + although her position was apparently one of much greater importance and + consideration than Justine’s, she was really at the beck and call of a + girl who, while she called her “darling,” gave her orders and paid her for + her services. Very often Miss Nora asked her to sew, on the plea that she + was as skilful with her fingers as a fairy, but in reality that her + employer might feel the superiority of her own position. + </p> + <p> + Hitherto Miss Nora had been delighted to meet at watering-places a friend + of whom she could say proudly, “She is a representative of the old + nobility of France” (which was not true, by the way, for the title of + Baron borne by M. de Nailles went no farther back than the days of Louis + XVIII); and she was still more proud to think that she was now waited on + by this same daughter of a nobleman, when her own father had kept a + drinking-saloon. She did not acknowledge this feeling to herself, and + would certainly have maintained that she never had had such an idea, but + it existed all the same, and she was under its influence, being very vain + and rather foolish. And, indeed, Jacqueline, would have been very willing + to plan trimmings and alter finery from morning to night in her own + chamber in a hotel, exactly as Mademoiselle Justine did, if she could by + this means have escaped the special duties of her difficult position, + which duties were to follow Miss Nora everywhere, like her own shadow, to + be her confidant and to act sometimes as her screen, or even as her + accomplice, in matters that occasionally involved risks, and were never to + her liking. + </p> + <p> + The young American girl had already said to her father, when he asked her + to give up her search for an entirely satisfactory European suitor, which + search he feared might drag on forever without any results: “Oh! I shall + be sure to find him at Bellagio!” And she made up her mind that there he + was to be sought and found at any price. Hotel life offered her + opportunities to exercise her instincts for flirtation, for there she met + many specimens of men she called chic, with a funny little foreign accent, + which seemed to put new life into the wornout word. Twenty times a day she + baited her hook, and twenty times a day some fish would bite, or at least + nibble, according as he was a fortune-hunter or a dilettante. Miss Nora, + being incapable of knowing the difference, was ready to capture good or + bad, and went about dragging her slaves at her chariot-wheels. Sometimes + she took them rowing, with the Stars and Stripes floating over her boat, + by moonlight; sometimes she drove them recklessly in a drag through roads + bordered by olive-groves and vineyards; all these expeditions being + undertaken under-pretence of admiring the romantic scenery. Her father was + not disposed to interfere with what he called “a little harmless + dissipation.” He was confident his daughter’s “companion” must know what + was proper, she being, as he said, accustomed to good society. Were not + all Italian ladies attended by gentlemen? Who could blame a young girl for + amusing herself? Meantime Mr. Sparks amused himself after his own fashion, + which was to sit comfortably, with his feet up on the piazza rail of the + hotel, imbibing strong iced drinks through straws. But in reality + Jacqueline had no power whatever to preserve propriety, and only + compromised herself by her associations, though her own conduct was + irreproachable. Indeed she was considered quite prudish, and the rest of + the mad crowd laughed at her for having the manners of a governess. In + vain she tried to say words of warning to Nora; what she said was laughed + at or resented in a tone that told her that a paid companion had not the + right to speak as frankly as a friend. + </p> + <p> + Her business, she was plainly told one day, was to be on the spot in case + any impertinent suitor should venture too far in a tete-a-tete, but short + of that she was not to “spoilsport.” “I am not doing anything wrong; it is + allowable in America,” was Miss Nora’s regular speech on such occasions, + and Jacqueline could not dispute the double argument. Nora’s conduct was + not wicked, and in America such things might be allowed. Yet Jacqueline + tried to demonstrate that a young girl can not pass unscathed through + certain adventures, even if they are innocent in the strict sense of the + word; which made Nora cry out that all she said was subterfuge and that + she had no patience with prejudices. + </p> + <p> + In vain her young companion pointed out to her charge that other Americans + at Bellagio seemed far from approving her conduct. American ladies of a + very different class, who were staying at the hotel, held aloof from her, + and treated her with marked coldness whenever they met; declaring that her + manners would be as objectionable in her own country, in good society, as + they were in Italy. + </p> + <p> + But Miss Sparks was not to be put down by any argument. “Bah! they are + stuck-up Bostonians. And do you know, Jacqueline, you are getting very + tiresome? You were faster yourself than I when we were the Blue Band at + Treport.” + </p> + <p> + Nora’s admirers, sometimes encouraged, sometimes snubbed, when treated + cavalierly by this young lady, would occasionally pay court to the + ‘demoiselle de compagnie’, who indeed was well worth their pains; but, to + their surprise, the subordinate received their attentions with great + coldness. Having entered her protest against what was going on, and having + resisted the contagion of example, it was natural she should somewhat + exaggerate her prudery, for it is hard to hit just the right point in such + reaction. The result was, she made herself so disagreeable to Miss Sparks + that the latter determined on getting rid of her as tactfully as possible. + </p> + <p> + Their parting took place on the day after an excursion to the Villa + Sommariva, where Miss Sparks and her little court had behaved with their + usual noise and rudeness. They had gone there ostensibly to see the + pictures, about which none of them cared anything, for Nora, wherever she + was, never liked any one to pay attention to anybody or to look at + anything but her own noisy, all-pervading self. + </p> + <p> + It so happened that at the most riotous moment of the picnic an old + gentleman passed near the lively crowd. He was quite inoffensive, + pleasant-mannered, and walked leaning on his cane, yet, had the statue of + the Commander in Don Juan suddenly appeared it could not have produced + such consternation as his presence did on Jacqueline, when, after a + moment’s hesitation, he bowed to her. She recognized in him a friend of + Madame d’Argy, M. Martel, whom she had often met at her house in Paris and + at Lizerolles. When he recognized her, she fancied she had seen pass over + his face a look of painful surprise. He would surely tell how he had met + her; what would her old friends think of her? What would Fred? For some + time past she had thought more than ever before of what Fred would think + of her. The more she grew disgusted with the men she met, the more she + appreciated his good qualities, and the more she thought of the honest, + faithful love he had offered her—love that she had so madly thrown + away. She never should meet such love again, she thought. It was the idea + of how Fred would blame her when he heard what she pictured to herself the + old gentleman would say of her, that suddenly decided her to leave + Bellagio. + </p> + <p> + She told Mr. Sparks that evening that she was not strong enough for such + duties as were required of a companion. + </p> + <p> + He looked at her with pity and annoyance. + </p> + <p> + “I should have thought you had more energy. How do you expect to live by + work if you are not strong enough for pleasure?” + </p> + <p> + “Pleasure needs strength as well as labor,” she said, smiling; “I would + rather work in the fields than go on amusing myself as I have been doing.” + </p> + <p> + “My dear, you must not be so difficult to please. When people have to earn + their bread, it is a bad plan. I am afraid you will find out before long + that there are harder ways of making a living than lunching, dancing, + walking, and driving from morning to night in a pretty country—” + </p> + <p> + Here Mr. Sparks began to laugh as he thought of all he had had to do, + without making objections, in the Far West, in the heroic days of his + youthful vigor. He was rather fond of recalling how he had carried his + pick on his shoulder and his knife in his belt, with two Yankee sayings in + his head, and little besides for baggage: “Muscle and pluck!—Muscle + and pluck!” and “Go ahead for ever!” That was the sort of thing to be done + when a man or a woman had not a cent. + </p> + <p> + And now, what was Jacqueline to do next? She reflected that in a very + short time she had attempted many things. It seemed to her that all she + could do now was to follow the advice which, when first given her by + Madame Strahlberg, had frightened her, though she had found it so + attractive. She would study with Madame Rochette; she would go to the + Milan Conservatory, and as soon as she came of age she would go upon the + stage, under a feigned name, of course, and in a foreign country. She + would prove to the world, she said to herself, that the career of an + actress is compatible with self-respect. This resolve that she would never + be found wanting in self-respect held a prominent place in all her plans, + as she began to understand better those dangers in life which are for the + most part unknown to young girls born in her social position. Jacqueline’s + character, far from being injured by her trials and experiences, had + gained in strength. She grew firmer as she gained in knowledge. Never had + she been so worthy of regard and interest as at the very time when her + friends were saying sadly to themselves, “She is going to the bad,” and + when, from all appearances, they were right in this conclusion. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0017" id="link2HCH0017"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XVII. TWIN DEVILS + </h2> + <p> + Jacqueline came to the conclusion that she had better seriously consult + Madame Strahlberg. She therefore stopped at Monaco, where this friend, + whom she intended to honor with the strange office of Mentor, was passing + the winter in a little villa in the Condamine quarter—a cottage + surrounded by roses and laurel-bushes, painted in soft colors and looking + like a plaything. + </p> + <p> + Madame Strahlberg had already urged Jacqueline to come and make + acquaintance with her “paradise,” without giving her any hint of the + delights of that paradise, from which that of gambling was not excluded, + for Madame Strahlberg was eager for any kind of excitement. Roulette now + occupied with her a large part of every night—indeed, her nights had + been rarely given to slumber, for her creed was that morning is the time + for sleep, for which reason they never took breakfast in the pink villa, + but tea, cakes, and confectionery were eaten instead at all hours until + the evening. Thus it happened very often that they had no dinner, and + guests had to accommodate themselves to the strange ways of the family. + Jacqueline, however, did not stay long enough to know much of those ways. + </p> + <p> + She arrived, poor thing, with weary wing, like some bird, who, escaping + from the fowler’s net, where it has left its feathers, flies straight to + the spot where a sportsman lies ready to shoot it. She was received with + the same cries of joy, the same kisses, the same demonstrations of + affection, as those which, the summer before, had welcomed her to the Rue + de Naples. They told her she could sleep on a sofa, exactly like the one + on which she had passed that terrible night which had resulted in her + expulsion from the convent; and it was decided that she must stay several + days, at least, before she went on to Paris, to begin the life of hard + study and courageous work which would make of her a great singer. + </p> + <p> + Tired?—No, she was hardly tired at all. The journey over the + enchanting road of the Corniche had awakened in her a fervor of admiration + which prevented her from feeling any bodily needs, and now she seemed to + have reached fairyland, where the verdure of the tropics was like the + hanging gardens of Babylon, only those had never had a mirror to reflect + back their ancient, far-famed splendor, like that before her eyes, as she + looked down upon the Mediterranean, with the sun setting in the west in a + sky all crimson and gold. + </p> + <p> + Notwithstanding the disorder of her travelling-dress, Jacqueline allowed + her friend to take her straight from the railway station to the Terrace of + Monte Carlo. She fell into ecstasies at sight of the African cacti, the + century plants, and the fig-trees of Barbary, covering the low walls + whence they looked down into the water; at the fragrance of the evergreens + that surrounded the beautiful palace with its balustrades, dedicated to + all the worst passions of the human race; with the sharp rocky outline of + Turbia; with an almost invisible speck on the horizon which they said was + Corsica; with everything, which, whether mirage or reality, lifted her out + of herself, and plunged her into that state of excited happiness and + indescribable sense of bodily comfort, which exterior impressions so + easily produce upon the young. + </p> + <p> + After exhausting her vocabulary in exclamations and in questions, she + stood silent, watching the sun as it sank beneath the waters, thinking + that life is well worth living if it can give us such glorious spectacles, + notwithstanding all the difficulties that may have to be passed through. + Several minutes elapsed before she turned her radiant face and dazzled + eyes toward Wanda, or rather toward the spot where Wanda had been standing + beside her. “Oh! my dear—how beautiful!” she murmured with a long + sigh. + </p> + <p> + The sigh was echoed by a man, who for a few moments had looked at her with + as much admiration as she had looked at the landscape. He answered her by + saying, in a low voice, the tones of which made her tremble from head to + foot: + </p> + <p> + “Jacqueline!” + </p> + <p> + “Monsieur de Cymier!” + </p> + <p> + The words slipped through her lips as they suddenly turned pale. She had + an instinctive, sudden persuasion that she had been led into a snare. If + not, why was Madame Strahlberg now absorbed in conversation with three + other persons at some little distance. + </p> + <p> + “Forgive me—you did not expect to see me—you seem quite + startled,” said the young man, drawing near her. With an effort she + commanded herself and looked full in his face. Her anger rose. She had + seen the same look in the ugly, brutal face of Oscar de Talbrun. From the + Terrace of Monte Carlo her memory flew back to a country road in Normandy, + and she clenched her hand round an imaginary riding-whip. She needed + coolness and she needed courage. They came as if by miracle. + </p> + <p> + “It is certain, Monsieur,” she answered, slowly, “that I did not expect to + meet you here.” + </p> + <p> + “Chance has had pity on me,” he replied, bowing low, as she had set him + the example of ceremony. + </p> + <p> + But he had no idea of losing time in commonplace remarks—he wished + to take up their intimacy on the terms it had been formerly, to resume the + romance he himself had interrupted. + </p> + <p> + “I knew,” he said in the same low voice, full of persuasion, which gave + especial meaning to his words, “I knew that, after all, we should meet + again.” + </p> + <p> + “I did not expect it,” said Jacqueline, haughtily. + </p> + <p> + “Because you do not believe in the magnetism of a fixed desire.” + </p> + <p> + “No, I do not believe any such thing, when, opposed to such a desire, + there is a strong, firm will,” said Jacqueline, her eyes burning. + </p> + <p> + “Ah!” he murmured, and he might have been supposed to be really moved, so + much his look changed, “do not abuse your power over me—do not make + me wretched; if you could only understand—” + </p> + <p> + She made a swift movement to rejoin Madame Strahlberg, but that lady was + already coming toward them with the same careless ease with which she had + left them together. + </p> + <p> + “Well! you have each found an old acquaintance,” she said, gayly. “I beg + your pardon, my loveliest, but I had to speak to some old friends, and ask + them to join us to-morrow evening. We shall sup at the restaurant of the + Grand Hotel, after the opera—for, I did not tell you before, you + will have the good luck to hear Patti. Monsieur de Cymier, we shall expect + you. Au revoir.” + </p> + <p> + He had been on the point of asking leave to walk home with them. But there + was something in Jacqueline’s look, and in her stubborn silence, that + deterred him. He thought it best to leave a skilful advocate to plead his + cause before he continued a conversation which had not begun + satisfactorily. Not that Gerard de Cymier was discouraged by the behavior + of Jacqueline. He had expected her to be angry at his defection, and that + she would make him pay for it; but a little skill on his part, and a + little credulity on hers, backed by the intervention of a third party, + might set things right. + </p> + <p> + One moment he lingered to look at her, admiring her as she stood in the + light of the dying sun, as beautiful in her plain dress and her indignant + paleness, while she looked far out to sea, that she might not be obliged + to look at him, as she had been when he had known her in prosperity. + </p> + <p> + At that moment he knew she hated him, but it would be an additional + delight to overcome that feeling. + </p> + <p> + The two women, when he left them, continued walking on the terrace side by + side, without a word. Wanda watched her companion out of the corners of + her eyes, and hummed an air to herself to break the silence. She saw a + storm gathering under Jacqueline’s black eyebrows, and knew that sharp + arrows were likely to shoot forth from those lips which several times had + opened, though not a word had been uttered, probably through fear of + saying too little or too much. + </p> + <p> + At last she made some trifling comment on the view, explaining something + about pigeon-shooting. + </p> + <p> + “Wanda,” interrupted Jacqueline, “did you not know what happened once?” + </p> + <p> + “Happened, how? About what?” asked Madame Strahlberg, with an air of + innocence. + </p> + <p> + “I am speaking of the way Monsieur de Cymier treated me.” + </p> + <p> + “Bah! He was in love with you. Who didn’t know it? Every one could see + that. It was all the more reason why you should have been glad to meet + him.” + </p> + <p> + “He did not act as if he were much in love,” said Jacqueline. + </p> + <p> + “Because he went away when your family thought he was about to make his + formal proposal? Not all men are marrying men, my dear, nor have all women + that vocation. Men fall in love all the same.” + </p> + <p> + “Do you think, then, that when a man knows he has no intention of marrying + he should pay court to a young girl? I think I told you at the time that + he had paid court to me, and that he afterward—how shall I say it?—basely + deserted me.” + </p> + <p> + The sharp and thrilling tone in which Jacqueline said this amused Madame + Strahlberg. + </p> + <p> + “What big words, my dear! No, I don’t remember that you ever said anything + of the sort to me before. But you are wrong. As we grow older we lay aside + harsh judgments and sharp words. They do no good. In your place I should + be touched by the thought that a man so charming had been faithful to me.” + </p> + <p> + “Faithful!” cried Jacqueline, her dark eyes flashing into the cat-like + eyes of Madame Strahlberg. + </p> + <p> + Wanda looked down, and fastened a ribbon at her waist. + </p> + <p> + “Ever since we have been here,” she said, “he has been talking of you.” + </p> + <p> + “Really—for how long?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, if you must know, for the last two weeks.” + </p> + <p> + “It is just a fortnight since you wrote and asked me to stay with you,” + said Jacqueline, coldly and reproachfully. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, well—what’s the harm? Suppose I did think your presence would + increase the attractions of Monaco?” + </p> + <p> + “Why did you not tell me?” + </p> + <p> + “Because I never write a word more than is necessary; you know how lazy I + am. And also because, I may as well confess, it might have scared you off, + you are so sensitive.” + </p> + <p> + “Then you meant to take me by surprise?” said Jacqueline, in the same + tone. + </p> + <p> + “Oh! my dear, why do you try to quarrel with me?” replied Madame + Strahlberg, stopping suddenly and looking at her through her eyeglass. “We + may as well understand what you mean by a free and independent life.” + </p> + <p> + And thereupon ensued an address to which Jacqueline listened, leaning one + hand on a balustrade of that enchanted garden, while the voice of the + serpent, as she thought, was ringing in her ears. Her limbs shook under + her—her brain reeled. All her hopes of success as a singer on the + stage Madame Strahlberg swept away, as not worth a thought. She told her + that, in her position, had she meant to be too scrupulous, she should have + stayed in the convent. Everything to Jacqueline seemed to dance before her + eyes. The evening closed around them, the light died out, the landscape, + like her life, had lost its glow. She uttered a brief prayer for help, + such a prayer as she had prayed in infancy. She whispered it in terror, + like a cry in extreme danger. She was more frightened by Wanda’s wicked + words than she had been by M. de Talbrun or by M. de Cymier. She ceased to + know what she was saying till the last words, “You have good sense and you + will think about it,” met her ear. + </p> + <p> + Jacqueline said not a word. + </p> + <p> + Wanda took her arm. “You may be sure,” she said, “that I am thinking only + of your good. Come! Would you like to go into the Casino and look at the + pictures? No, you are tired? You can see them some evening. The ballroom + holds a thousand persons. Yes, if you prefer, we will go home. You can + take a nap till dinner-time. We shall dine at eight o’clock.” + </p> + <p> + Conversation languished till they reached the Villa Rosa. Notwithstanding + Jacqueline’s efforts to appear natural, her own voice rang in her ears in + tones quite new to her, a laugh that she uttered without any occasion, and + which came near resulting in hysterics. Yet she had power enough over her + nerves to notice the surroundings as she entered the house. At the door of + the room in which she was to sleep, and which was on the first story, + Madame Strahlberg kissed her with one of those equivocal smiles which so + long had imposed on her simplicity. + </p> + <p> + “Till eight o’clock, then.” + </p> + <p> + “Till eight o’clock,” repeated Jacqueline, passively. + </p> + <p> + But when eight o’clock came she sent word that she had a severe headache, + and would try to sleep it off. + </p> + <p> + Suppose, she thought, M. de Cymier should have been asked to dinner; + suppose she should be placed next to him at table? Anything in that house + seemed possible now. + </p> + <p> + They brought her a cup of tea. Up to a late hour she heard a confused + noise of music and laughter. She did not try to sleep. All her faculties + were on the alert, like those of a prisoner who is thinking of escape. She + knew what time the night trains left the station, and, abandoning her + trunk and everything else that she had with her, she furtively—but + ready, if need were, to fight for her liberty with the strength of + desperation—slipped down the broad stairs over their thick carpet + and pushed open a little glass door. Thank heaven! people came in and went + out of that house as if it had been a mill. No one discovered her flight + till the next morning, when she was far on her way to Paris in an express + train. Modeste, quite unprepared for her young mistress’s arrival, was + amazed to see her drop down upon her, feverish and excited, like some poor + hunted animal, with strength exhausted. Jacqueline flung herself into her + nurse’s arms as she used to do when, as a little girl, she was in what she + fancied some great trouble, and she cried: “Oh, take me in—pray take + me in! Keep me safe! Hide me!” And then she told Modeste everything, + speaking rapidly and disconnectedly, thankful to have some one to whom she + could open her heart. In default of Modeste she would have spoken to stone + walls. + </p> + <p> + “And what will you do now, my poor darling?” asked the old nurse, as soon + as she understood that her young lady had come back to her, “with weary + foot and broken wing,” from what she had assured her on her departure + would be a brilliant excursion. + </p> + <p> + “Oh! I don’t know,” answered Jacqueline, in utter discouragement; “I am + too worn out to think or to do anything. Let me rest; that is all.” + </p> + <p> + “Why don’t you go to see your stepmother?” + </p> + <p> + “My stepmother? Oh, no! She is at the bottom of all that has happened to + me.” + </p> + <p> + “Or Madame d’Argy? Or Madame de Talbrun? Madame de Talbrun is the one who + would give you good advice.” + </p> + <p> + Jacqueline shook her head with a sad smile. + </p> + <p> + “Let me stay here. Don’t you remember—years ago—but it seems + like yesterday—all the rest is like a nightmare—how I used to + hide myself under your petticoats, and you would say, going on with your + knitting: ‘You see she is not here; I can’t think where she can be.’ Hide + me now just like that, dear old Modeste. Only hide me.” + </p> + <p> + And Modeste, full of heartfelt pity, promised to hide her “dear child” + from every one, which promise, however, did not prevent her, for she was + very self-willed, from going, without Jacqueline’s knowledge, to see + Madame de Talbrun and tell her all that had taken place. She was hurt and + amazed at her reception by Giselle, and at her saying, without any offer + of help or words of sympathy, “She has only reaped what she has sown.” + Giselle would have been more than woman had not Fred, and a remembrance of + the wrongs that he had suffered through Jacqueline, now stood between + them. For months he had been the prime object in her life; her mission of + comforter had brought her the greatest happiness she had ever known. She + tried to make him turn his attention to some serious work in life; she + wanted to keep him at home, for his mother’s sake, she thought; she + fancied she had inspired him with a taste for home life. If she had + examined herself she might have discovered that the task she had + undertaken of doing good to this young man was not wholly for his sake but + partly for her own. She wanted to see him nearly every day and to occupy a + place in his life ever larger and larger. But for some time past the + conscientious Giselle had neglected the duty of strict self-examination. + She was thankful to be happy—and though Fred was a man little given + to self-flattery in his relations with women, he could not but be pleased + at the change produced in her by her intercourse with him. + </p> + <p> + But while Fred and Giselle considered themselves as two friends trying to + console each other, people had begun to talk about them. Even Madame + d’Argy asked herself whether her son might not have escaped from the cruel + claws of a young coquette of the new school to fall into a worse scrape + with a married woman. She imagined what might happen if the jealousy of + “that wild boar of an Oscar de Talbrun” were aroused; the dangers, far + more terrible than the perils of the sea, that might in such a case await + her only son, the child for whose safety her mother-love caused her to + suffer perpetual torments. “O mothers! mothers!” she often said to + herself, “how much they are to be pitied. And they are very blind. If Fred + must get into danger and difficulty for any woman, it should not have been + for Giselle de Talbrun.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0018" id="link2HCH0018"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XVIII. “AN AFFAIR OF HONOR” + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + A meeting took place yesterday at Vesinet between the Vicomte de + Cymier, secretary of Embassy at Vienna, and M. Frederic d’Argy, + ensign in the navy. The parties fought with swords. The seconds of + M. de Cymier were the Prince de Moelk and M. d’Etaples, captain in + the—th Hussars; those of M. d’Argy Hubert Marien, the painter. + M. d’Argy was wounded in the right arm, and for the present the + affair is terminated, but it is said it will be resumed on M. + d’Argy’s recovery, although this seems hardly probable, considering + the very slight cause of the quarrel—an altercation at the Cercle + de la Rue Boissy d’Anglas, which took place over the card-table. +</pre> + <p> + Such was the announcement in a daily paper that met the eyes of + Jacqueline, as she lay hidden in Modeste’s lodging, like a fawn in its + covert, her eyes and ears on the alert, watching for the least sign of + alarm, in fear and trembling. She expected something, she knew not what; + she felt that her sad adventure at Monaco could not fail to have its + epilogue; but this was one of which she never had dreamed. + </p> + <p> + “Modeste, give me my hat! Get me a carriage! Quick! Oh, my God, it is my + fault!—I have killed him!” + </p> + <p> + These incoherent cries came from her lips while Modeste, in alarm, picked + up the newspaper and adjusted her silver spectacles upon her nose to read + the paragraph. “Monsieur Fred wounded! Holy Virgin! His poor mother! That + is a new trouble fallen on her, to be sure. But this quarrel had nothing + to do with you, my pet; you see they say it was about cards.” + </p> + <p> + And folding up the Figaro, while Jacqueline in all haste was wrapping her + head in a veil, Modeste, with the best intentions, went on to say: “Nobody + ever dies of a sword-thrust in the arm.” + </p> + <p> + “But you see it says that they are going to fight all over again—don’t + you understand? You are so stupid! What could they have had to quarrel + about but me? O God! Thou art just! This is indeed punishment—too + much punishment for me!” + </p> + <p> + So saying, she ran down the many stairs that led up to Modeste’s little + lodging in the roof, her feet hardly touching them as she ran, while + Modeste followed her more slowly, crying: “Wait for me! Wait for me, + Mademoiselle!” + </p> + <p> + Calling a fiacre, Jacqueline, almost roughly, pushed the old woman into + it, and gave the coachman the address of Madame d’Argy, having, in her + excitement, first given him that of their old house in the Parc Monceau, + so much was she possessed by the idea that this was a repetition of that + dreadful day, when with Modeste, just as now, she went to meet an + irreparable loss. She seemed to see before her her dead father—he + looked like Fred, and now, as before, Marien had his part in the tragedy. + Could he not have prevented the duel? Could he not have done something to + prevent Fred from exposing himself? The wound might be no worse than it + was said to be in the newspaper—but then a second meeting was to + take place. No!—it should not, she would stop it at any price! + </p> + <p> + And yet, as the coach drew nearer to the Rue de Varenne, where Madame + d’Argy had her winter residence, a little calm, a little sense returned to + Jacqueline. She did not see how she could dare to enter that house, where + probably they cursed her very name. She would wait in the street with the + carriage-blinds pulled down, and Modeste should go in and ask for + information. Five minutes passed—ten minutes passed—they + seemed ages. How slow Modeste was, slow as a tortoise! How could she leave + her there when she knew she was so anxious? What could she be doing? All + she had to do was to ask news of M. Fred in just two words! + </p> + <p> + At last, Jacqueline could bear suspense no longer. She opened the + coach-door and jumped out on the pavement. Just at that moment Modeste + appeared, brandishing the umbrella that she carried instead of a stick, in + a manner that meant something. It might be bad news, she would know in a + moment; anything was better than suspense. She sprang forward. + </p> + <p> + “What did they say, Modeste? Speak!—Why have you been such a time?” + </p> + <p> + “Because the servants had something else to do than to attend to me. I + wasn’t the only person there—they were writing in a register. Get + back into the carriage, Mademoiselle, or somebody will see you—There + are lots of people there who know you—Monsieur and Madame d’Etaples—” + </p> + <p> + “What do I care?—The truth! Tell me the truth—” + </p> + <p> + “But didn’t you understand my signals? He is going on well. It was only a + scratch—Ah! Madame that’s only my way of talking. He will be laid up + for a fortnight. The doctor was there—he has some fever, but he is + not in any danger.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh! what a blessing! Kiss me, Modeste. We have a fortnight in which we + may interfere—But how—Oh, how?—Ah! there is Giselle! We + will go to Giselle at once!” + </p> + <p> + And the ‘fiacre’ was ordered to go as fast as possible to the Rue + Barbet-de-Jouy. This time Jacqueline herself spoke to the concierge. + </p> + <p> + “Madame la Comtesse is out.” + </p> + <p> + “But she never goes out at this hour. I wish to see her on important + business. I must see her.” + </p> + <p> + And Jacqueline passed the concierge, only to encounter another refusal + from a footman, who insisted that Madame la Comtesse was at home to no + one. + </p> + <p> + “But me, she will see me. Go and tell her it is Mademoiselle de Nailles.” + </p> + <p> + Moved by her persistence, the footman went in to inquire, and came back + immediately with the answer: + </p> + <p> + “Madame la Comtesse can not see Mademoiselle.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah!” thought Jacqueline, “she, too, throws me off, and it is natural. I + have no friends left. No one will tell me anything!—I think it will + drive me mad?” + </p> + <p> + She was half-mad already. She stopped at a newsstand and bought all the + evening journals; then, up in her garret, in her poor little nest under + the roof-which, as she felt bitterly, was her only refuge, she began to + look over those printed papers in which she might possibly find out the + true cause of the duel. Nearly all related the event in almost the exact + terms used by the Figaro. Ah!—here was a different one! A reporter + who knew something more added, in Gil Blas: “We have stated the cause of + the dispute as it has been given to the public, but in affairs of this + nature more than in any others, it is safe to remember the old proverb: + ‘Look for the woman.’ The woman could doubtless have been found enjoying + herself on the sunny shores of the Mediterranean, while men were drawing + swords in her defense.” + </p> + <p> + Jacqueline went on looking through the newspapers, crumpling up the sheets + as she laid them down. The last she opened had the reputation of being a + repository of scandals, never to be depended on, as she well knew. Several + times it had come to her hand and she had not opened it, remembering what + her father had always said of its reputation. But where would she be more + likely to find what she wanted than in the columns of a journal whose + reporters listened behind doors and peeped through keyholes? Under the + heading of ‘Les Dessous Parisiens’, she read on the first page: + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “Two hens lived in peace; a cock came + And strife soon succeeded to joy; + E’en as love, they say, kindled the flame + That destroyed the proud city of Troy. + + “This quarrel was the outcome of a violent rupture between the two + hens in question, ending in the flight of one of them, a young and + tender pullet, whose voice we trust soon to hear warbling on the + boards at one of our theatres. This was the subject of conversation + in a low voice at the Cercle, at the hour when it is customary to + tell such little scandals. M. de C——-was enlarging on the + somewhat Bohemian character of the establishment of a lovely foreign + lady, who possesses the secret of being always surrounded by + delightful friends, young ladies who are self-emancipated, quasi- + widows who, by divorce suits, have regained their liberty, etc. + He was speaking of one of the beauties who are friends of his friend + Madame S——, as men speak of women who have proved themselves + careless of public opinion; when M. d’A——, in a loud voice, + interrupted him; the lie was given in terms that of course led to + the hostile meeting of which the press has spoken, attributing it to + a dispute about the Queen of Spades, when it really concerned the + Queen of Hearts.” + </pre> + <p> + Then she had made no mistake; it had been her flight from Madame + Strahlberg’s which had led to her being attacked by one man, and defended + by the other! Jacqueline found it hard to recognize herself in this tissue + of lies, insinuations, and half-truths. What did the paper mean its + readers to understand by its account? Was it a jealous rivalry between + herself and Madame Strahlberg?—Was M. de Cymier meant by the cock? + And Fred had heard all this—he had drawn his sword to refute the + calumny. Brave Fred! Alas! he had been prompted only by chivalric + generosity. Doubtless he, also, looked upon her as an adventuress. + </p> + <p> + All night poor Jacqueline wept with such distress that she wished that she + might die. She was dropping off to sleep at last, overpowered by fatigue, + when a ring at the bell in the early morning roused her. Then she heard + whispering: + </p> + <p> + “Do you think she is so unhappy?” + </p> + <p> + It was the voice of Giselle. + </p> + <p> + “Come in—come in quickly!” she cried, springing out of bed. Wrapped + in a dressing-gown, with bare feet, her face pale, her eyelids red, her + complexion clouded, she rushed to meet her friend, who was almost as much + disordered as herself. It seemed as if Madame de Talbrun might also have + passed a night of sleeplessness and tears. + </p> + <p> + “You have come! Oh! you have come at last!” cried Jacqueline, throwing her + arms around her, but Giselle repelled her with a gesture so severe that + the poor child could not but understand its meaning. She murmured, + pointing to the pile of newspapers: “Is it possible?—Can you have + believed all those dreadful things?” + </p> + <p> + “What things? I have read nothing,” said Giselle, harshly. “I only know + that a man who was neither your husband nor your brother, and who + consequently was under no obligation to defend you, has been foolish + enough to be nearly killed for your sake. Is not that a proof of your + downfall? Don’t you know it?” + </p> + <p> + “Downfall?” repeated Jacqueline, as if she did not understand her. Then, + seizing her friend’s hand, she forcibly raised it to her lips: “Ah! what + can anything matter to me,” she cried, “if only you remain my friend; and + he has never doubted me!” + </p> + <p> + “Women like you can always find defenders,” said Giselle, tearing her hand + from her cousin’s grasp. + </p> + <p> + Giselle was not herself at that moment. “But, for your own sake, it would + have been better he should have abstained from such an act of Quixotism.” + </p> + <p> + “Giselle! can it be that you think me guilty?” + </p> + <p> + “Guilty!” cried Madame de Talbrun, her pale face aflame. “A little more + and Monsieur de Cymier’s sword-point would have pierced his lungs.” + </p> + <p> + “Good heavens!” cried Jacqueline, hiding her face in her hands. “But I + have done nothing to—” + </p> + <p> + “Nothing except to set two men against each other; to make them suffer, or + to make fools of them, and to be loved by them all the same.” + </p> + <p> + “I have not been a coquette,” said Jacqueline, with indignation. + </p> + <p> + “You must have been, to authorize the boasts of Monsieur de Cymier. He had + seen Fred so seldom, and Tonquin had so changed him that he spoke in his + presence—without supposing any one would interfere. I dare not tell + you what he said—” + </p> + <p> + “Whatever spite or revenge suggested to him, no doubt,” said Jacqueline. + </p> + <p> + “Listen, Giselle—Oh, you must listen. I shall not be long.” + </p> + <p> + She forced her to sit down; she crouched on a foot stool at her feet, + holding her hands in hers so tightly that Giselle could not draw them + away, and began her story, with all its details, of what had happened to + her since she left Fresne. She told of her meeting with Wanda; of the + fatal evening which had resulted in her expulsion from the convent; her + disgust at the Sparks family; the snare prepared for her by Madame + Strahlberg. “And I can not tell you all,” she added, “I can not tell you + what drove me away from my true friends, and threw me among these people—” + </p> + <p> + Giselle’s sad smile seemed to answer, “No need—I am aware of it—I + know my husband.” Encouraged by this, Jacqueline went on with her + confession, hiding nothing that was wrong, showing herself just as she had + been, a poor, proud child who had set out to battle for herself in a + dangerous world. At every step she had been more and more conscious of her + own imprudence, of her own weakness, and of an ever-increasing desire to + be done with independence; to submit to law, to be subject to any rules + which would deliver her from the necessity of obeying no will but her own. + </p> + <p> + “Ah!” she cried, “I am so disgusted with independence, with amusement, and + amusing people! Tell me what to do in future—I am weary of taking + charge of myself. I said so the other day to the Abbe Bardin. He is the + only person I have seen since my return. It seems to me I am coming back + to my old ideas—you remember how I once wished to end my days in the + cell of a Carmelite? You might love me again then, perhaps, and Fred and + poor Madame d’Argy, who must feel so bitterly against me since her son was + wounded, might forgive me. No one feels bitterly against the dead, and it + is the same as being dead to be a Carmelite nun. You would all speak of me + sometimes to each other as one who had been very unhappy, who had been + guilty of great foolishness, but who had repaired her faults as best she + could.” + </p> + <p> + Poor Jacqueline! She was no longer a girl of the period; in her grief and + humiliation she belonged to the past. Old-fashioned forms of penitence + attracted her. + </p> + <p> + “And what did the Abbe Bardin tell you?” asked Giselle, with a slight + movement of her shoulders. + </p> + <p> + “He only told me that he could not say at present whether that were my + vocation.” + </p> + <p> + “Nor can I,” said Giselle. + </p> + <p> + Jacqueline lifted up her face, wet with tears, which she had been leaning + on the lap of Giselle. + </p> + <p> + “I do not see what else I can do, unless you would get me a place as + governess somewhere at the ends of the earth,” she said. “I could teach + children their letters. I should not mind doing anything. I never should + complain. Ah! if you lived all by yourself, Giselle, how I should implore + you to take me to teach little Enguerrand!” + </p> + <p> + “I think you might do better than that,” said Giselle, wiping her friend’s + eyes almost as a mother might have done, “if you would only listen to + Fred.” + </p> + <p> + Jacqueline’s cheeks became crimson. + </p> + <p> + “Don’t mock me—it is cruel—I am too unworthy—it would + pain me to see him. Shame—regret—you understand! But I can + tell you one thing, Giselle—only you. You may tell it to him when he + is quite old, when he has been long married, and when everything + concerning me is a thing of the past. I never had loved any one with all + my heart up to the moment when I read in that paper that he had fought for + me, that his blood had flowed for me, that after all that had passed he + still thought me worthy of being defended by him.” + </p> + <p> + Her tears flowed fast, and she added: “I shall be proud of that all the + rest of my life! If only you, too, would forgive me.” + </p> + <p> + The heart of Giselle was melted by these words. + </p> + <p> + “Forgive you, my dear little girl? Ah! you have been better than I. I + forgot our old friendship for a moment—I was harsh to you; and I + have so little right to blame you! But come! Providence may have arranged + all for the best, though one of us may have to suffer. Pray for that some + one. Good-by—‘au revoir!” + </p> + <p> + She kissed Jacqueline’s forehead and was gone, before her cousin had + seized the meaning of her last words. But joy and peace came back to + Jacqueline. She had recovered her best friend, and had convinced her of + her innocence. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0019" id="link2HCH0019"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XIX. GENTLE CONSPIRATORS + </h2> + <p> + Before Giselle went home to her own house she called on the Abbe Bardin, + whom a rather surly servant was not disposed to disturb, as he was just + eating his breakfast. The Abbe Bardin was Jacqueline’s confessor, and he + held the same relation to a number of other young girls who were among her + particular friends. He was thoroughly acquainted with all that concerned + their delicate and generally childish little souls. He kept them in the + right way, had often a share in their marriages, and in general kept an + eye upon them all their lives. Even when they escaped from him, as had + happened in the case of Jacqueline, he did not give them up. He commended + them to God, and looked forward to the time of their repentance with the + patience of a father. The Abbe Bardin had never been willing to exercise + any function but that of catechist; he had grown old in the humble rank of + third assistant in a great parish, when, with a little ambition, he might + have been its rector. “Suffer little children to come unto me,” had been + his motto. These words of his Divine Master seemed more often than any + others on his lips-lips so expressive of loving kindness, though sometimes + a shrewd smile would pass over them and seem to say: “I know, I can + divine.” But when this smile, the result of long experience, did not light + up his features, the good Abbe Bardin looked like an elderly child; he was + short, his walk was a trot, his face was round and ruddy, his eyes, which + were short-sighted, were large, wide-open, and blue, and his heavy crop of + white hair, which curled and crinkled above his forehead, made him look + like a sixty-year-old angel, crowned with a silvery aureole. + </p> + <p> + Rubbing his hands affably, he came into the little parlor where Madame de + Talbrun was waiting for him. There was probably no ecclesiastic in all + Paris who had a salon so full of worked cushions, each of which was a + keepsake—a souvenir of some first communion. The Abbe did not know + his visitor, but the name Talbrun seemed to him connected with an + honorable and well-meaning family. The lady was probably a mother who had + come to put her child into his hands for religious instruction. He + received visits from dozens of such mothers, some of whom were a little + tiresome, from a wish to teach him what he knew better than they, and at + one time he had set apart Wednesday as his day for receiving such visits, + that he might not be too greatly disturbed, as seemed likely to happen to + him that day. Not that he cared very much whether he ate his cutlet hot or + cold, but his housekeeper cared a great deal. A man may be a very + experienced director, and yet be subject to direction in other ways. + </p> + <p> + The youth of Giselle took him by surprise. + </p> + <p> + “Monsieur l’Abbe,” she said, without any preamble, while he begged her to + sit down, “I have come to speak to you of a person in whom you take an + interest, Jacqueline de Nailles.” + </p> + <p> + He passed the back of his hand over his brow and said, with a sigh: “Poor + little thing!” + </p> + <p> + “She is even more to be pitied than you think. You have not seen her, I + believe, since last week.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes—she came. She has kept up, thank God, some of her religious + duties.” + </p> + <p> + “For all that, she has played a leading part in a recent scandal.” + </p> + <p> + The Abbe sprang up from his chair. + </p> + <p> + “A duel has taken place because of her, and her name is in all men’s + mouths—whispered, of course—but the quarrel took place at the + Club. You know what it is to be talked of at the Club.” + </p> + <p> + “The poison of asps,” growled the Abbe; “oh! those clubs—think of + all the evil reports concocted in them, of which women are the victims!” + </p> + <p> + “In the present case the evil report was pure calumny. It was taken up by + some one whom you also know—Frederic d’Argy.” + </p> + <p> + “I have had profound respect these many years for his excellent and pious + mother.” + </p> + <p> + “I thought so. In that case, Monsieur l’Abbe, you would not object to + going to Madame d’Argy’s house and asking how her son is.” + </p> + <p> + “No, of course not; but—it is my duty to disapprove—” + </p> + <p> + “You will tell her that when a young man has compromised a young girl by + defending her reputation in a manner too public, there is but one thing he + can do afterward-marry her.” + </p> + <p> + “Wait one moment,” said the Abbe, who was greatly surprised; “it is + certain that a good marriage would be the best thing for Jacqueline. I + have been thinking of it. But I do not think I could so suddenly—so + soon after—” + </p> + <p> + “Today at four o’clock, Monsieur l’Abbe. Time presses. You can add that + such a marriage is the only way to stop a second duel, which will + otherwise take place.” + </p> + <p> + “Is it possible?” + </p> + <p> + “And it is also the only way to bring Frederic to decide on sending in his + resignation. Don’t forget that—it is important.” + </p> + <p> + “But how do you know—” + </p> + <p> + The poor Abbe stammered out his words, and counted on his fingers the + arguments he was desired to make use of. + </p> + <p> + “And you will solemnly assure them that Jacqueline is innocent.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh! as to that, there are wolves in sheeps’ clothing, as the Bible tells + us; but believe me, when such poor young things are in question, it is + more often the sheep which has put on the appearance of a wolf—to + seem in the fashion,” added the Abbe, “just to seem in the fashion. + Fashion will authorize any kind of counterfeiting.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, you will say all that, will you not, to Madame d’Argy? It will be + very good of you if you will. She will make no difficulties about money. + All she wants is a quietly disposed daughter-in-law who will be willing to + pass nine months of the year at Lizerolles, and Jacqueline is quite cured + of her Paris fever.” + </p> + <p> + “A fever too often mortal,” murmured the Abbe; “oh, for the simplicity of + nature! A priest whose lot is cast in the country is fortunate, Madame, + but we can not choose our vocation. We may do good anywhere, especially in + cities. Are you sure, however, that Jacqueline—” + </p> + <p> + “She loves Monsieur d’Argy.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, if that is so, we are all right. The great misfortune with many of + these poor girls is that they have never learned to love anything; they + know nothing but agitations, excitements, curiosities, and fancies. All + that sort of thing runs through their heads.” + </p> + <p> + “You are speaking of a Jacqueline before the duel. I can assure you that + ever since yesterday, if not before, she has loved Monsieur d’Argy, who on + his part for a long time—a very long time—has been in love + with her.” + </p> + <p> + Giselle spoke eagerly, as if she forced herself to say the words that cost + her pain. Her cheeks were flushed under her veil. The Abbe, who was + keen-sighted, observed these signs. + </p> + <p> + “But,” continued Giselle, “if he is forced to forget her he may try to + expend elsewhere the affection he feels for her; he may trouble the peace + of others, while deceiving himself. He might make in the world one of + those attachments—Do not fail to represent all these dangers to + Madame d’Argy when you plead the cause of Jacqueline.” + </p> + <p> + “Humph! You are evidently much attached, Madame, to Mademoiselle de + Nailles.” + </p> + <p> + “Very much, indeed,” she answered, bravely, “very much attached to her, + and still more to him; therefore you understand that this marriage must—absolutely + must take place.” + </p> + <p> + She had risen and was folding her cloak round her, looking straight into + the Abbe’s eyes. Small as she was, their height was almost the same; she + wanted him to understand thoroughly why this marriage must take place. + </p> + <p> + He bowed. Up to that time he had not been quite sure that he had not to do + with one of those wolves dressed in fleece whose appearance is as + misleading as that of sheep disguised as wolves: now his opinion was + settled. + </p> + <p> + “Mon Dieu! Madame,” he said, “your reasons seem to me excellent—a + duel to be prevented, a son to be kept by the side of his sick mother, two + young people who love each other to be married, the saving, possibly, of + two souls—” + </p> + <p> + “Say three souls, Monsieur l’Abbe!” + </p> + <p> + He did not ask whose was the third, nor even why she had insisted that + this delicate commission must be executed that same day. He only bowed + when she said again: “At four o’clock: Madame d’Argy will be prepared to + see you. Thank you, Monsieur l’Abbe.” And then, as she descended the + staircase, he bestowed upon her silently his most earnest benediction, + before returning to the cold cutlet that was on his breakfast table. + </p> + <p> + Giselle did not breakfast much better than he. In truth, M. de Talbrun + being absent, she sat looking at her son, who was eating with a good + appetite, while she drank only a cup of tea; after which, she dressed + herself, with more than usual care, hiding by rice-powder the trace of + recent tears on her complexion, and arranging her fair hair in the way + that was most becoming to her, under a charming little bonnet covered with + gold net-work which corresponded with the embroidery on an entirely new + costume. + </p> + <p> + When she went into the dining-room Enguerrand, who was there with his + nurse finishing his dessert, cried out: “Oh! mamma, how pretty you are!” + which went to her heart. She kissed him two or three times—one kiss + after another. + </p> + <p> + “I try to be pretty for your sake, my darling.” + </p> + <p> + “Will you take me with you?” + </p> + <p> + “No, but I will come back for you, and take you out.” + </p> + <p> + She walked a few steps, and then turned to give him such a kiss as + astonished him, for he said: + </p> + <p> + “Is it really going to be long?” + </p> + <p> + “What?” + </p> + <p> + “Before you come back? You kiss me as if you were going for a long time, + far away.” + </p> + <p> + “I kissed you to give myself courage.” + </p> + <p> + Enguerrand, who, when he had a hard lesson to learn, always did the same + thing, appeared to understand her. + </p> + <p> + “You are going to do some thing you don’t like.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, but I have to do it, because you see it is my duty.” + </p> + <p> + “Do grown people have duties?” + </p> + <p> + “Even more than children.” + </p> + <p> + “But it isn’t your duty to write a copy—your writing is so pretty. + Oh! that’s what I hate most. And you always say it is my duty to write my + copy. I’ll go and do it while you do your duty. So that will seem as if we + were both together doing something we don’t like—won’t it, mamma?” + </p> + <p> + She kissed him again, even more passionately. + </p> + <p> + “We shall be always together, we two, my love!” + </p> + <p> + This word love struck the little ear of Enguerrand as having a new accent, + a new meaning, and, boy-like, he tried to turn this excess of tenderness + to advantage. + </p> + <p> + “Since you love me so much, will you take me to see the puppet-show?” + </p> + <p> + “Anywhere you like—when I come back. Goodby.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0020" id="link2HCH0020"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XX. A CHIVALROUS SOUL + </h2> + <p> + Madame D’Argy sat knitting by the window in Fred’s chamber, with that + resigned but saddened air that mothers wear when they are occupied in + repairing the consequences of some rash folly. Fred had seen her in his + boyhood knitting in the same way with the same, look on her face, when he + had been thrown from his pony, or had fallen from his velocipede. He + himself looked ill at ease and worried, as he lay on a sofa with his arm + in a sling. He was yawning and counting the hours. From time to time his + mother glanced at him. Her look was curious, and anxious, and loving, all + at the same time. He pretended to be asleep. He did not like to see her + watching him. His handsome masculine face, tanned that pale brown which + tropical climates give to fair complexions, looked odd as it rose above a + light-blue cape, a very feminine garment which, as it had no sleeves, had + been tied round his neck to keep him from being cold. He felt himself, + with some impatience, at the mercy of the most tender, but the most + sharp-eyed of nurses, a prisoner to her devotion, and made conscious of + her power every moment. Her attentions worried him; he knew that they all + meant “It is your own fault, my poor boy, that you are in this state, and + that your mother is so unhappy.” He felt it. He knew as well as if she had + spoken that she was asking him to return to reason, to marry, without more + delay, their little neighbor in Normandy, Mademoiselle d’Argeville, a + niece of M. Martel, whom he persisted in not thinking of as a wife, always + calling her a “cider apple,” in allusion to her red cheeks. + </p> + <p> + A servant came in, and said to Madame d’Argy that Madame de Talbrun was in + the salon. + </p> + <p> + “I am coming,” she said, rolling up her knitting. + </p> + <p> + But Fred suddenly woke up: + </p> + <p> + “Why not ask her to come here?” + </p> + <p> + “Very good,” said his mother, with hesitation. She was distracted between + her various anxieties; exasperated against the fatal influence of + Jacqueline, alarmed by the increasing intimacy with Giselle, desirous that + all such complications should be put an end to by his marriage, but + terribly afraid that her “cider apple” would not be sufficient to + accomplish it. + </p> + <p> + “Beg Madame de Talbrun to come in here,” she said, repeating the order + after her son; but she settled herself in her chair with an air more + patient, more resigned than ever, and her lips were firmly closed. + </p> + <p> + Giselle entered in her charming new gown, and Fred’s first words, like + those of Enguerrand, were: “How pretty you are! It is charity,” he added, + smiling, “to present such a spectacle to the eyes of a sick man; it is + enough to set him up again.” + </p> + <p> + “Isn’t it?” said Giselle, kissing Madame d’Argy on the forehead. The poor + mother had resumed her knitting with a sigh, hardly glancing at the pretty + walking-costume, nor at the bonnet with its network of gold. + </p> + <p> + “Isn’t it pretty?” repeated Giselle. “I am delighted with this costume. It + is made after one of Rejane’s. Oscar fell in love with it at a first + representation of a vaudeville, and he gave me over into the hands of the + same dressmaker, who indeed was named in the play. That kind of + advertising seems very effective.” + </p> + <p> + She went on chattering thus to put off what she had really come to say. + Her heart was beating so fast that its throbs could be seen under the + embroidered front of the bodice which fitted her so smoothly. She wondered + how Madame d’Argy would receive the suggestion she was about to make. + </p> + <p> + She went on: “I dressed myself in my best to-day because I am so happy.” + </p> + <p> + Madame d’Argy’s long tortoise-shell knitting-needles stopped. + </p> + <p> + “I am glad to hear it, my dear,” she said, coldly, “I am glad anybody can + be happy. There are so many of us who are sad.” + </p> + <p> + “But why are you pleased?” asked Fred, looking at her, as if by some + instinct he understood that he had something to do with it. + </p> + <p> + “Our prodigal has returned,” answered Giselle, with a little air of + satisfaction, very artificial, however, for she could hardly breathe, so + great was her fear and her emotion. “My house is in the garb of + rejoicing.” + </p> + <p> + “The prodigal? Do you mean your husband?” said Madame d’Argy, maliciously. + </p> + <p> + “Oh! I despair of him,” replied Giselle, lightly. “No, I speak of a + prodigal who did not go far, and who made haste to repent. I am speaking + of Jacqueline.” + </p> + <p> + There was complete silence. The knitting-needles ticked rapidly, a slight + flush rose on the dark cheeks of Fred. + </p> + <p> + “All I beg,” said Madame d’Argy, “is that you will not ask me to eat the + fatted calf in her honor. The comings and going of Mademoiselle de Nailles + have long ceased to have the slightest interest for me.” + </p> + <p> + “They have for Fred at any rate; he has just proved it, I should say,” + replied Giselle. + </p> + <p> + By this time the others were as much embarrassed as Giselle. She saw it, + and went on quickly: + </p> + <p> + “Their names are together in everybody’s mouth; you can not hinder it.” + </p> + <p> + “I regret it deeply-and allow me to make one remark: it seems to me you + show a want of tact such as I should never have imagined in telling us—” + </p> + <p> + Giselle read in Fred’s eyes, which were steadily fixed on her, that he + was, on that point, of his mother’s opinion. She went on, however, still + pretending to blunder. + </p> + <p> + “Forgive me—but I have been so anxious about you ever since I heard + there was to be a second meeting—” + </p> + <p> + “A second meeting!” screamed Madame d’Argy, who, as she read no paper but + the Gazette de France, or occasionally the Debats, knew nothing of all the + rumors that find their echo in the daily papers. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, ‘mon Dieu’! I thought you knew—” + </p> + <p> + “You need not frighten my mother,” said Fred, almost angrily; “Monsieur de + Cymier has written a letter which puts an end to our quarrel. It is the + letter of a man of honor apologizing for having spoken lightly, for having + repeated false rumors without verifying them—in short, retracting + all that he had said that reflected in any way on Mademoiselle de Nailles, + and authorizing me, if I think best, to make public his retraction. After + that we can have nothing more to say to each other.” + </p> + <p> + “He who makes himself the champion to defend a young girl’s character,” + said Madame d’Argy, sententiously, “injures her as much as those who have + spoken evil of her.” + </p> + <p> + “That is exactly what I think,” said Giselle. “The self-constituted + champion has given the evil rumor circulation.” + </p> + <p> + There was again a painful silence. Then the intrepid little woman resumed: + “This step on the part of Monsieur de Cymier seems to have rendered my + errand unnecessary. I had thought of a way to end this sad affair; a very + simple way, much better, most certainly, than men cutting their own + throats or those of other people. But since peace has been made over the + ruins of Jacqueline’s reputation, I had better say nothing and go away.” + </p> + <p> + “No—no! Let us hear what you had to propose,” said Fred, getting up + from his couch so quickly that he jarred his bandaged arm, and uttered a + cry of pain, which seemed very much like an oath, too. + </p> + <p> + Giselle was silent. Standing before the hearth, she was warming her small + feet, watching, as she did so, Madame d’Argy’s profile, which was + reflected in the mirror. It was severe—impenetrable. It was Fred who + spoke first. + </p> + <p> + “In the first place,” he said, hesitating, “are you sure that Mademoiselle + de Nailles has not just arrived from Monaco?” + </p> + <p> + “I am certain that for a week she has been living quietly with Modeste, + and that, though she passed through Monaco, she did not stay there—twenty-four + hours, finding that the air of that place did not agree with her.” + </p> + <p> + “But what do you say to what Monsieur Martel saw with his own eyes, and + which is confirmed by public rumor?” cried Madame d’Argy, as if she were + giving a challenge. + </p> + <p> + “Monsieur Martel saw Jacqueline in bad company. She was not there of her + own will. As to public rumor, we may feel sure that to make it as + flattering to her tomorrow as it is otherwise to-day only a marriage is + necessary. Yes, a marriage! That is the way I had thought of to settle + everything and make everybody happy.” + </p> + <p> + “What man would marry a girl who had compromised herself?” said Madame + d’Argy, indignantly. + </p> + <p> + “He who has done his part to compromise her.” + </p> + <p> + “Then go and propose it to Monsieur de Cymier!” + </p> + <p> + “No. It is not Monsieur de Cymier whom she loves.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah!” Madame d’Argy was on her feet at once. “Indeed, Giselle, you are + losing your senses. If I were not afraid of agitating Fred—” + </p> + <p> + He was, in truth, greatly agitated. The only hand that he could use was + pulling and tearing at the little blue cape crossed on his breast, in + which his mother had wrapped him; and this unsuitable garment formed such + a queer contrast to the expression of his face that Giselle, in her + nervous excitement, burst out laughing, an explosion of merriment which + completed the exasperation of Madame d’Argy. + </p> + <p> + “Never!” she cried, beside herself. “You hear me—never will I + consent, whatever happens!” + </p> + <p> + At that moment the door was partly opened, and a servant announced + “Monsieur l’Abbe Bardin.” + </p> + <p> + Madame d’Argy made a gesture which was anything but reverential. + </p> + <p> + “Well, to be sure—this is the right moment with a vengeance! What + does he want! Does he wish me to assist in some good work—or to + undertake to collect money, which I hate.” + </p> + <p> + “Above all, mother,” cried Fred, “don’t expose me to the fatigue of + receiving his visit. Go and see him yourself. Giselle will take care of + your patient while you are gone. Won’t you, Giselle?” + </p> + <p> + His voice was soft, and very affectionate. He evidently was not angry at + what she had dared to say, and she acknowledged this to herself with an + aching heart. + </p> + <p> + “I don’t exactly trust your kind of care,” said Madame d’Argy, with a + smile that was not gay, and certainly not amiable. + </p> + <p> + She went, however, because Fred repeated: + </p> + <p> + “But go and see the Abbe Bardin.” + </p> + <p> + Hardly had she left the room when Fred got up from his sofa and approached + Giselle with passionate eagerness. + </p> + <p> + “Are you sure I am not dreaming,” said he. “Is it you—really you who + advise me to marry Jacqueline?” + </p> + <p> + “Who else should it be?” she answered, very calm to all appearance. “Who + can know better than I? But first you must oblige me by lying down again, + or else I will not say one word more. That is right. Now keep still. Your + mother is furiously displeased with me—I am sorry—but she will + get over it. I know that in Jacqueline you would have a good wife—a + wife far better than the Jacqueline you would have married formerly. She + has paid dearly for her experience of life, and has profited by its + lessons, so that she is now worthy of you, and sincerely repentant for her + childish peccadilloes.” + </p> + <p> + “Giselle,” said Fred, “look me full in the face—yes, look into my + eyes frankly and hide nothing. Your eyes never told anything but the + truth. Why do you turn them away? Do you really and truly wish this + marriage?” + </p> + <p> + She looked at him steadily as long as he would, and let him hold her hand, + which was burning inside her glove, and which with a great effort she + prevented from trembling. Then her nerves gave way under his long and + silent gaze, which seemed to question her, and she laughed, a laugh that + sounded to herself very unnatural. + </p> + <p> + “My poor, dear friend,” she cried, “how easily you men are duped! You are + trying to find out, to discover whether, in case you decide upon an honest + act, a perfectly sensible act, to which you are strongly inclined—don’t + tell me you are not—whether, in short, you marry Jacqueline, I shall + be really as glad of it as I pretend. But have you not found out what I + have aimed at all along? Do you think I did not know from the very first + what it was that made you seek me? + </p> + <p> + “I was not the rope, but I had lived near the rose; I reminded you of her + continually. We two loved her; each of us felt we did. Even when you said + harm of her, I knew it was merely because you longed to utter her name, + and repeat to yourself her perfections. I laughed, yes, I laughed to + myself, and I was careful how I contradicted you. I tried to keep you safe + for her, to prevent your going elsewhere and forming attachments which + might have resulted in your forgetting her. I did my best—do me + justice—I did my best; perhaps sometimes I pushed things a little + far in her interest, in that of your mother, but in yours more than all; + in yours, for God knows I am all for you,” said Giselle, with sudden and + involuntary fervor. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I am all yours as a friend, a faithful friend,” she resumed, almost + frightened by the tones of her own voice; “but as to the slightest feeling + of love between us, love the most spiritual, the most platonic—yes, + all men, I fancy, have a little of that kind of self-conceit. Dear Fred, + don’t imagine it—Enguerrand would never have allowed it.” + </p> + <p> + She was smiling, half laughing, and he looked at her with astonishment, + asking himself whether he could believe what she was saying, when he could + recollect what seemed to him so many proofs to the contrary. Yet in what + she said there was no hesitation, no incoherence, no false note. Pride, + noble pride, upheld her to the end. The first falsehood of her life was a + masterpiece. + </p> + <p> + “Ah, Giselle!” he said at last, not knowing what to think, “I adore you! I + revere you!” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” she replied, with a smile, gracious, yet with a touch of sadness, + “I know you do. But her you love!” + </p> + <p> + Might it not have been sweet to her had he answered “No, I loved her once, + and remembered that old love enough to risk my life for her, but in + reality I now love only you—all the more at this moment when I see + you love me more than yourself.” But, instead, he murmured only, like a + man and a lover: “And Jacqueline—do you think she loves me?” His + anxiety, a thrill that ran through all his frame, the light in his eyes, + his sudden pallor, told more than his words. + </p> + <p> + If Giselle could have doubted his love for Jacqueline before, she would + have now been convinced of it. The conviction stabbed her to the heart. + Death is not that last sleep in which all our faculties, weakened and + exhausted, fail us; it is the blow which annihilates our supreme illusion + and leaves us disabused in a cold and empty world. People walk, talk, and + smile after this death—another ghost is added to the drama played on + the stage of the world; but the real self is dead. + </p> + <p> + Giselle was too much of a woman, angelic as she was, to have any courage + left to say: “Yes, I know she loves you.” + </p> + <p> + She said instead, in a low voice: “That is a question you must ask of + her.” + </p> + <p> + Meantime, in the next room they could hear Madame d’Argy vehemently + repeating: “Never! No, I never will consent! Is it a plot between you?” + </p> + <p> + They heard also a rumbling monotone preceding each of these vehement + interruptions. The Abbe Bardin was pointing out to her that, unmarried, + her son would return to Tonquin, that Lizerolles would be left deserted, + her house would be desolate without daughter-in-law or grandchildren; and, + as he drew these pictures, he came back, again and again, to his main + argument: + </p> + <p> + “I will answer for their happiness: I will answer for the future.” + </p> + <p> + His authority as a priest gave weight to this assurance, at least Madame + d’Argy felt it so. She went on saying never, but less and less + emphatically, and apparently she ceased to say it at last, for three + months later the d’Etaples, the Rays, the d’Avrignys and the rest, + received two wedding announcements in these words: + </p> + <p> + “Madame d’Argy has the honor to inform you of the marriage of her son, M. + Frederic d’Argy, Chevalier of the Legion of Honor, to Mademoiselle de + Nailles.” + </p> + <p> + The accompanying card ran thus: + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “The Baroness de Nailles has the honor to inform you of the + marriage of Mademoiselle Jacqueline de Nailles, her + stepdaughter, to M. Frederic d’Argy.” + </pre> + <p> + Congratulations showered down on both mother and stepmother. A love-match + is nowadays so rare! It turned out that every one had always wished all + kinds of good fortune to young Madame d’Argy, and every one seemed to take + a sincere part in the joy that was expressed on the occasion, even Dolly, + who, it was said, had in secret set her heart on Fred for herself; even + Nora Sparks, who, not having carried out her plans, had gone back to New + York, whence she sent a superb wedding present. Madame de Nailles + apparently experienced at the wedding all the emotions of a real mother. + </p> + <p> + The roses at Lizerolles bloomed that year with unusual beauty, as if to + welcome the young pair. Modeste sang ‘Nunc Dimittis’. The least + demonstrative of all those interested in the event was Giselle. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + ETEXT EDITOR’S BOOKMARKS: + + A familiarity which, had he known it, was not flattering + A mother’s geese are always swans + As we grow older we lay aside harsh judgments and sharp words + Bathers, who exhibited themselves in all degrees of ugliness + Blow which annihilates our supreme illusion + Death is not that last sleep + Fool (there is no cure for that infirmity) + Fred’s verses were not good, but they were full of dejection + Great interval between a dream and its execution + Hang out the bush, but keep no tavern + His sleeplessness was not the insomnia of genius + Importance in this world are as easily swept away as the sand + Music—so often dangerous to married happiness + Natural longing, that we all have, to know the worst + Notion of her husband’s having an opinion of his own + Old women—at least thirty years old! + Pride supplies some sufferers with necessary courage + Seemed to enjoy themselves, or made believe they did + Seldom troubled himself to please any one he did not care for + Small women ought not to grow stout + Sympathetic listening, never having herself anything to say + The bandage love ties over the eyes of men + The worst husband is always better than none + This unending warfare we call love + Unwilling to leave him to the repose he needed + Waste all that upon a thing that nobody will ever look at + Women who are thirty-five should never weep +</pre> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + + + +End of Project Gutenberg’s Jacqueline, Complete, by Th. 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