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 APRIL'S LADY 
 
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 by 
 
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 Copyright 1911 
 BY DODD, MEAD & Co. 
 
 Published April, 1911
 
 Part First 
 
 2129174
 
 PART FIRST 
 
 J. HE highway, already too white, was growing more 
 and more dusty under the March sun. Michel Tremor 
 plunged into the wood, following the path which de- 
 scends toward the cross-roads of Jouvelles. 
 
 The trees, adorned with a pallid verdure, ready to be 
 blasted by the first frost, stood forth against the sky in 
 a light tracery. Among the grass, starred with anem- 
 ones " more richly clad than Solomon in all his glory," 
 lay the brown veil of the last year's leaves. Yet vague 
 murmurs of an awakening rose from the earth; myste- 
 rious wings were cleaving the air or quivering in the 
 thickets ; spring odours were exhaling. From this little 
 universe touched by destruction, where already life was 
 thrilling ; from these mingled sounds chirping around 
 half -finished nests, voices of springs and brooks, snap- 
 ping of a dry branch suddenly broken emanated a 
 powerful charm. It was the melancholy of things which 
 are passing, mingled with the triumphant joy of their 
 eternal renewal. Michel Tremor felt this charm very 
 keenly without defining it. 
 
 On the first fine day he had escaped from the apart- 
 ment in the Rue Beau j on, which he occupied for three or 
 four months every year while mingling, somewhat 
 against his will, in the life of Paris, and settled with
 
 2 APRIL'S LADY 
 
 delight at Rivailler. He was accustomed to seek refuge 
 after the winter within the walls of his ancient tower of 
 Saint-Sylvere, which possessed in his eyes the twofold 
 advantage of being tolerably near Castelflore, the sum- 
 mer residence of his brother-in-law, yet not sufficiently 
 close for him to fear often the social invasions with 
 which his sister laughingly threatened him. 
 
 Rivailler is a pretty spot! The population at the 
 utmost is two thousand; there are neat houses and lux- 
 uriant gardens grouped around a church as dainty as 
 a toy; woods, meadows, streams, springs and, here and 
 there, in the environs, without counting Castelflore and 
 Precroix, the finest estates in the neighbourhood, ele- 
 gant villas, coquettish little chateaux standing on the 
 shores of the water, or perched on the top of some easily- 
 accessible hill. 
 
 Michel Tremor, who had explored a number of coun- 
 tries and intended to go to Norway early in May 
 with the expectation of visiting several other lands, 
 liked to rest eyes a trifle wearied by foreign views upon 
 this peaceful horizon, where the Marne glittered in the 
 sun like a huge pool of liquid silver. 
 
 The cross-roads of Jouvelles a natural glade 
 where, in a niche supported against the trunk of a 
 beech, smiled a saint in an embroidered robe, his brow 
 crowned with stars was one of his favourite retreats. 
 
 Michel threw his dark cloak on the moss and stretched 
 himself at full length with a sigh of pleasure. Look- 
 ing for a moment at the sky which, covered with clouds, 
 gleamed grey through the interlaced boughs, he opened 
 the book he had brought, but it was to take from among
 
 APRIL'S LADY 3 
 
 the pages several sheets of blue paper on which ran the 
 elegant writing of a woman: 
 
 " My dear little brother: 
 
 " It is not to give you pleasure, but to scold you 
 that I am writing. I said to my husband this morning: 
 ' The mischief is certainly increasing ! It may be all 
 very well for Bethune, who is building something or 
 other at Precroix, to bury himself at Rivailler the first 
 of March. But I don't believe the dove-cote of Saint- 
 Sylvere is capable of being adorned.' So, if I don't 
 look after you, brother mine, you'll turn monk some 
 day. That would be a pity. 
 
 " Were you really bored in Paris ? You ought to 
 come to us at Cannes. The season has been delight- 
 ful. May Bethune will tell you about our carnival fol- 
 lies. It isn't three weeks since she left us with the 
 children, recalled to Paris, where she must be still, by 
 the illness of one of her old Philadelphia friends, Miss 
 Stevens, who also spent the winter here in Cannes 
 a very tiresome person ! but where was I ? Oh, I 
 was only telling you that I wanted to see you here. 
 Robert would be delighted to have a visit from you. 
 The southern climate has cured his throat so well, that 
 he eagerly seeks every occasion to exercise it in political 
 discussions and you know I am no match for him ; your 
 nephew swears only by Saint Tremor the hermit, and 
 Nysette's eyes dance with joy whenever your name is 
 mentioned. As for me, I am dying to kiss you. It's 
 six months since I have done so. And you and I are 
 such good correspondents that, before your last letter,
 
 4 APRIL'S LADY 
 
 it was three that we had communicated only in tele- 
 graphic style. So, you understand that I have a 
 thousand things to tell you. My head is full of plans. 
 Don't laugh, sir. I am thirty-two, fourteen months 
 your senior, and I feel my terrible responsibilities! 
 This wandering Jew or solitary life isn't fit for you. 
 I want to marry you off, dear Michel ; I have even found 
 you a wife. 
 
 " If only I were near you, seated in some old worm- 
 eaten chair in the tower of Saint-Sylvere, leaning on 
 an ancient table laden with parchments! It would be 
 such fun to answer your questions: * How old is she? 
 Is she pretty ? ' She is twenty-two, brother mine, and 
 she is pretty. Besides, you know her. You met her 
 six years ago, I think, at a dinner in my house. Chap- 
 eroned by a respectable governess who adored her and 
 called her charmingly Zanne, she was spending a few 
 months in Paris to fulfil her grandmother's wish and 
 become more familiar with the language spoken there, 
 the one the grammarians do not teach. You had ar- 
 rived from some barbarous country and were prepar- 
 ing to set out again for I don't know what other one. 
 I had invited half a dozen people, among them your 
 friend Albert Daran, who gave us during the evening 
 a sort of lecture about archaeology, excavations, 
 Salammbo and so many tiresome things that the poor 
 child fell asleep, to the great scandal of the respectable 
 governess. 
 
 " Do you remember ? But I will take pity on your 
 curiosity. It is Mrs. Jackson's daughter, our little 
 cousin from America, the orphan girl to whom our
 
 APRIL'S LADY 5 
 
 Aunt Regine was grandmother. Poor Zanne is alone 
 for the second time! Her only relative, an uncle who 
 had adopted her, died last year. She came to Cannes 
 in December with that old Miss Stevens from Philadel- 
 phia, the friend of May Bethune, whose reader she had 
 become, less to increase her income than to feel that she 
 was under some little protection. A praiseworthy thing, 
 when one thinks that I am speaking of an American 
 girl. 
 
 "She is a jewel, Michel! And so good, so affec- 
 tionate! True, she isn't rich you know that Aunt 
 Regine left nothing, and the adopted father's property 
 is more than modest but what is that to you? You 
 have never deigned to bestow a look at all the large 
 dowries I have presented to you. In short, this darling 
 has won me, and my enthusiasm would have much more 
 to say, but I expect to finish this pleading while keeping 
 you under my maternal eye. What a triumph, little 
 brother, if my folly should marry your wisdom! 
 
 " Apropos of folly, guess whom I saw the other day 
 at Monte Carlo, through which she was passing, a widow 
 and a more upsetting woman than ever? The Franco- 
 Russian alliance, my dear Michel, or, in other words, 
 Comtesse Wronska. The count died suddenly of cere- 
 bral congestion, and as he left no will the beautiful 
 Faustine will return to Paris as poor as in the days when 
 you and she sighed together under the shade of Castel- 
 flore. True, for seven years she has had the pleasure of 
 nursing Wronski's rheumatism! 
 
 " Of course I avoided speaking to this creature, whom 
 I abhor, and I have these particulars from Madame
 
 6 APRIL'S LADY 
 
 Vernier, who is infatuated with her. Between ourselves, 
 I think that Wronski did not succeed in inspiring Faus- 
 tine with an aversion for marriage which is amazing ! 
 that she has a great desire to catch another husband 
 and is a little tired of the Nevsky Prospect, so she is com- 
 ing to try her luck in the neighbourhood of the Bois de 
 Boulogne. She will be able to throw the first bait at the 
 opera next Friday. Good little Madame Vernier car- 
 ried her obligingness so far as to lend her her box. 
 
 " But not content with chattering, here I am talking 
 scandal. 
 
 " May we meet soon, dear brother. Think a little of 
 my affection for the American girl. Though you by 
 no means deserve it, I kiss you very lovingly. 
 
 "YouR COLETTE." 
 
 Michel read attentively from beginning to end this 
 long letter, which had been handed to him just as he 
 was going out. His sister's projects brought a smile 
 into his brown eyes. Marry him off, and to a stranger, 
 an unknown relative, whose very name, an instant be- 
 fore, he would have been unable to remember ! Another 
 wager of charming, madcap Colette. 
 
 Aunt Regine's granddaughter. Really these words 
 told very little. 
 
 The romantic marriage of Mademoiselle Regine 
 Tremor to a skilful Philadelphia physician, Dr. Brook, 
 who had come to Paris to attend a congress, had 
 taken place about fifteen years before Michel's birth, 
 and as Madame Brook's visits to France grew more and 
 more infrequent as time passed, he had seen " Aunt
 
 APRIL'S LADY 7 
 
 Regine" only once. Aunt Regine, a widow, dressed 
 entirely in black, with a face already faded and wrin- 
 kled by tears, and hair still light, which curled slily 
 under her crepe hat. They knew she was not well off 
 her husband's laboratory and clinic had swallowed so 
 much money ! they guessed that she was weary of 
 America and the Americans, who understood her no bet- 
 ter than she did them. Yet, before returning to Phil- 
 adelphia, where her only daughter had married, she had 
 said : " It is over, I shall never come back." And she 
 had not come back, nor had she written except at long 
 intervals. She had lost her son-in-law and daughter 
 during an epidemic ; at last she herself died, very weary 
 of life, leaving in the world only a child of fourteen, 
 her granddaughter. 
 
 This child, whom her relatives in Europe almost ig- 
 nored, was Miss Jackson, the little Zanne whom Madame 
 Fauvel had welcomed kindly in Paris, and with whom, 
 six years later, she was so bewitched at Cannes. 
 
 While reading Madame Fauvel's letter, Aunt Re- 
 gine's nephew had dimly seen again the indistinct out- 
 line of a little fair-haired girl with whom he had not 
 exchanged ten words, and who had really fallen asleep 
 in the drawing-room one evening when, according to 
 his custom at the time, Albert Daran was discussing 
 archaeology and he, Michel, absorbed in sorrowful 
 thoughts, allowed himself to be lulled by his friend's 
 voice, without seeking to distinguish the meaning of the 
 words uttered. 
 
 Six years ! It was six years ago ! How slowly time 
 had accomplished its remedial work ; how many days
 
 8 APRIL'S LADY 
 
 though prompt in changing love to hatred it had 
 consumed before transforming hatred into indifference, 
 before enveloping the past with f orgetf ulness ! 
 
 Michel mechanically folded the blue sheets and 
 slipped them into his pocketbook. Already the little 
 cousin from America and the matrimonial visions of 
 Madame Fauvel were lost in mists. The young man's 
 brain was occupied solely by the only words in this long 
 letter which had awakened an echo : " Guess whom I saw 
 at Monte Carlo, through which she was passing, a widow 
 and a more upsetting woman than ever . . ." 
 
 Orphaned in their early childhood and placed under 
 the guardianship of Monsieur Louis Tremor, their 
 father's brother, Colette and Michel had been educated 
 almost entirely alone. Monsieur Louis Tremor loved 
 his niece and nephew most tenderly, but a bachelor, and 
 a little selfisfi like the best of elderly unmarried men, he 
 had found it very simple to borrow from the abbey of 
 Theleme the essential principle of its pedagogical sys- 
 tem, " Do what you like." Michel and Colette knew 
 scarcely any other rule. If Uncle Louis never had 
 cause seriously to repent such extreme indulgence, it 
 was because he had given proof of some perspicacity in 
 trusting to the upright, generous nature of the chil- 
 dren confided to his charge. Yet when he died, mourned 
 by Colette, whom he had married when very young to 
 a distinguished lawyer, and by Michel, who, master of 
 his fortune and his time, seemed to employ neither badly, 
 he had been permitted to perceive an amusing contrast 
 in the practical effect of his theories. 
 
 Uncle Tremor's principles which, in Colette, had pro-
 
 APRIL'S LADY 9 
 
 duced the accomplished type of the society woman, had 
 made Michel a sort of highly-civilised savage. 
 
 People laughed at the young man's awkwardness, his 
 absent-minded, indifferent airs, the airs of an " old 
 scientist " ; they wondered at his aptitude for the an- 
 cient Oriental languages, and no human being knew 
 that in the breast of this tall, silent fellow beat a heart 
 famished for love, that in the brain, crammed with 
 erudition, of this library rat, thrilled the romantic im- 
 agination of a boarding-school girl of fifteen captivated 
 by a fairy prince. 
 
 Michel's princess did not come from the ideal world 
 of fairies. She had taken the same course of lessons 
 on the piano as Colette, lived modestly with a widowed 
 mother on the fifth floor of a Paris apartment house, 
 and bore the very ordinary name of Faustine Morel. 
 
 Michel and Faustine were nearly the same age; they 
 had met for the first time one Thursday on the terrace 
 of the Luxembourg, during a game of hide and seek; 
 since then the young lad's imagination bestowed on all 
 the heroines of romance, fable, and even history, abun- 
 dant tresses of pale golden hair, a fair complexion, dark 
 eyes with tawny lights, and especially a crimson mouth 
 around which sometimes hovered a strange, incompre- 
 hensible smile, that might be ironical or gay, coquettish 
 or a trifle bitter. At that time, Faustine was the bosom 
 friend of Colette, who devoted herself to her with mar- 
 vellous and somewhat whimsical ardour. 
 
 If Mademoiselle Morel had yielded to the entreaties 
 of Colette, who wished to drag her into her whirl of 
 gaities, it would have been sufficient to induce Michel
 
 10 APRIL'S LADY 
 
 to renounce his evenings of work more frequently. But 
 with a precocious seriousness and a gentle dignity which 
 impressed Uncle Tremor, the pretty girl denied herself 
 the pleasures of a life of luxury to which her financial 
 situation did not permit her to aspire. 
 
 Yet though Madame Morel and her daughter de- 
 clined to attend balls and large dinner parties, their 
 answer was very different when the invitation was to a 
 family entertainment and, when Colette had married 
 Monsieur Fauvel, Faustine was invited to Castelflore for 
 several weeks every summer. Simple, stylish, assuming 
 toward young men in general, and Michel in particular, 
 a rather haughty reserve, talking little, but well, just 
 enough to reveal the charm of an unusually cultivated 
 mind, the young girl had won the admiration of Mon- 
 sieur Tremor. She somewhat surprised Robert Fauvel, 
 who was in no hurry to pass judgment, but who had 
 already lost all hope of ever checking Colette's reckless 
 enthusiasms. As for Michel, he yielded to the en- 
 chantment without trying to escape from it. He loved 
 the little friend of his childhood with the longing to 
 adore while admiring, to incarnate in a single being the 
 most beautiful dreams ; he loved her also with infinite 
 respect and triumphant joy. And of these raptures, 
 he constructed a great delicious mystery, which he kept 
 jealously to himself. 
 
 Yet one summer evening, in the warm, intoxicating 
 silence of the garden of Castelflore, he spoke ; the eager, 
 passionate confession burst from his lips. Then the 
 statue appeared to become animate, and Michel could 
 believe himself beloved by this beautiful young girl,
 
 APRIL'S LADY 11 
 
 whose poverty had showed itself so proudly. By virtue 
 of his favourite adage, Uncle Tremor made no objection 
 to his nephew's matrimonial projects, but the engage- 
 ment must be a long one, and by Monsieur Fauvel's ad- 
 vice, it was decided that there should be no formal an- 
 nouncement for a year, at which time Michel would have 
 completed his period of military service. The young 
 man resigned himself to the delay. All through the 
 winter and the spring the postman brought him exqui- 
 site letters ; on days when he had leave of absence Faus- 
 tine's welcome was tender and agitated. 
 
 What happened afterward? How did Madame Morel 
 and her daughter find themselves in a new circle, a cos- 
 mopolitan and somewhat flashy society where very great 
 and very insignificant people mingled? By what com- 
 bination of circumstances were they led to conceive am- 
 bitions hitherto unknown to them? This is what the 
 Tremors could not fathom. 
 
 But gradually letters from Faustine grew less fre- 
 quent and when Michel, at last released from his service, 
 hastened to Paris, anxious and bewildered, all the pray- 
 ers and entreaties of love remained futile. Mademoi- 
 selle Morel calmly said that she had reflected a great 
 deal and reading the depths of her own heart better, 
 she had perceived that there would be no possible happi- 
 ness in a marriage between her and Michel. 
 
 A month later, Faustine Morel married Comte Stan- 
 islas Wronski, a Russian multi-millionaire. 
 
 Michel was one of those who " suffer and die without 
 speaking." He made a secret of his despair as he had 
 of his love. But he shut his lips, tore up the work he
 
 12 APRIL'S LADY 
 
 had commenced and changed his mode of life. For 
 more than a year he devoted himself to pleasure as he 
 had done to study ; then, disgusted, he made a great 
 effort, tore himself away from Paris, set out for Cairo 
 and remained absent six months. 
 
 The spell was broken, only the man whom Michel re- 
 stored to himself and his family no longer bore much 
 resemblance either to the timid youth who had wor- 
 shipped Faustine as an idol, nor the enthusiastic student 
 who expected everything from science and dreamed of 
 devoting to it his intellectual life. 
 
 Always optimistic, Uncle Tremor died congratulating 
 himself upon the metamorphosis, without asking him- 
 self whether, beneath the mask of the Parisian gentle- 
 man whose courteous attitude and intelligent indolence 
 he now approved, there might not still lurk some traces 
 of the young savage whose unsocial labor and extreme 
 sentiments he had tacitly condemned. True, the mask 
 rarely fell, and only in the solitude of the " Saint-Syl- 
 vere dove-cote." 
 
 Thus eight years had passed, cicatrising the wound. 
 Michel had never again seen the woman who had been 
 his fiancee, and the charming image had gradually van- 
 ished from his memory. Yet, after these eight years, 
 reading at the cross-roads of Jouvelles the name which 
 Colette, too versatile herself to believe in eternal sor- 
 rows, had traced with a light hand, the young man 
 started. Like Michel, like so many others, Faustine 
 had expected from life more than life had been able to 
 bestow J her talents, her little ambitious calculations had
 
 APRIL'S LADY 13 
 
 been futile! Stanislas Wronski was one of those men 
 who are afraid, by making a will, to remind death of 
 their age. 
 
 Poor creature, to degrade herself for nothing !
 
 II 
 
 A Y was advancing. A coppery light in the sky was 
 bordered with large clouds of strange forms, which grew 
 denser and insensibly descended nearer to the earth. 
 Michel Tremor did not yet think of opening the book 
 he carried; he had been repeating to himself the story 
 of his youth, enjoying the memory of his ideas, his feel- 
 ings in those days, smiling not very cheerily at 
 their fresh ingenuousness. 
 
 A drop of rain fell on his hand, without his noticing 
 it. 
 
 " Poor woman ! " he repeated. 
 
 Curiosity fevered his brain. " Did she love me? " 
 he said to himself, repeating the old question. " Now 
 that in her turn she knows the bitterness of hopes de- 
 ceived, now that she has endured to no purpose the 
 shame of a venal marriage, now that a fatality snatches 
 from her the wealth for which she did not fear to bind 
 her youth and beauty to an old man's infirmities, now, 
 will she think of me? Will she think that, after all, 
 she might perhaps have been happier with the poor 
 lover whom she tortured? Does she think that the 
 rapture of felicity which she might have bestowed in 
 exchange for an entire life, a fervent love, an absolute 
 devotion, would have been equal to appearing at the 
 court of Russia, and scattering gold without reckoning 
 it? Does she regret what is no more? Does she cry 
 out : ' Oh, if all this were only a terrible delusion) if 
 
 14
 
 APRIL'S LADY 15 
 
 suddenly, I could lay my weary head upon his breast, 
 feel his lips upon my burning eyes, and thus forget 
 everything ? ' 
 
 The clouds and the wood were illuminated, then a peal 
 of thunder shook the earth. 
 
 Recalled to reality, Tremor rose and, wrapping him- 
 self in his cape, hurried toward the highway by the most 
 direct road, but the rain increased and Saint-Sylverc was 
 still five or six kilometres distant. Michel hesitated ; in 
 a few minutes he could reach another shelter, the little 
 chapel which the inhabitants of Rivailler pointed out 
 to strangers as one of the curiosities of the neighbour- 
 hood, under the name of the " Green Sepulchre." 
 
 A furious gust of wind hastened the young man's de- 
 cision; he turned back and entered the forest to gain 
 the Green Sepulchre more promptly. 
 
 This edifice, whose Gothic character was somewhat 
 doubtful, so far as chronological authenticity is con- 
 cerned, sheltered in the midst of the woods the tomb of 
 an unknown knight. For nearly half a century it was 
 abandoned to the ivy, which each year clasped the walls 
 a little more firmly, marring the pointed arches of the 
 windows, covering or oddly muffling the fantastic grim- 
 aces of the gargoyles. Michel loved this melancholy 
 place. Several times he had sketched, with a delicate 
 pencil, the exterior details of the monument or mau- 
 soleum in the middle of the chapel, the iron-covered 
 form of the mysterious knight, his somewhat emaciated 
 manly features, his closed eyes, his fine beard framed by 
 the raised helmet, his hand clasped in a somewhat arti- 
 ficial pose upon the cross-shaped sword, and carved
 
 16 APRIL'S LADY 
 
 upon the stone pedestal of the tomb-couch, near the 
 shield adorned with fluers-de-lis the big greyhound, 
 like some strange heraldic animal, which seemed to guard 
 his sleep. 
 
 But this time the young man did not feel at all 
 charmed by the prospect of a meditation in the funereal 
 retreat. Already wet, he wondered wearily at what time 
 he could return to Saint-Sylvere. 
 
 The whole forest was quivering under the swifter, 
 denser fall of the raindrops. A veil of melancholy 
 seemed to have been thrown everywhere upon the 
 light leafage of the trees, which appeared to be shiver- 
 ing; on the streams, on the little flowers that hung their 
 fragile heads and lost the lustre of their whiteness. 
 
 An exclamation of annoyance addressed to the ele- 
 ments escaped Michel's lips ; perhaps, too, in the depths 
 of his soul, he reproached himself for having welcomed 
 the unhealthful memories of the past. 
 
 He no longer loved Faustine, and every bond between 
 her and himself was broken, but he would have liked to 
 have heard of her again or seen her for the last time ; he 
 would fain have read in her eyes, once so beloved, a shade 
 of remorse, to have seen in them the glitter of a tear. 
 To believe himself a little regretted, a little mourned by 
 her for whom he had wept and mourned so much, would 
 have brought strange sweetness to his heart not a 
 feeling of revenge, but a serenity of pardon. 
 
 The rain was still falling, driven by a furious wind 
 which bowed the slender trees and flung them against 
 one another, breaking with a shock the branches that 
 Were too dry to bend.
 
 APRIL'S LADY 17 
 
 At last Michel reached the Green Sepulchre. As his 
 tall figure, draped in the dark cloak, towered upon the 
 threshold of the doorway, a cry of terror echoed from 
 within the chapel. In the dusk which gained a bluish 
 tint from the last fading daylight sifted through the 
 only window time had respected, a young lad of about 
 fifteen appeared, singularly modern in this Gothic en- 
 vironment, with his serge blouse, knickerbockers, and 
 yellow leggings buttoned to the knee. 
 
 " Oh, sir, I took you for the knight or one of his rel- 
 atives . . . your beard is exactly the Same," said 
 the child with an accent which, though very slight, was 
 sufficiently distinct to permit a trained ear to distinguish 
 in it a pleasant reminder of the language of Shake- 
 speare. 
 
 Then, with a deep sigh, he added drolly : 
 
 " Well, it's a relief to see a living being ! I am 
 glad." 
 
 Suddenly, as the stranger came a little nearer to the 
 door, Michel perceived that he was confronting a tall 
 girl or a very young lady in a bicycle costume. The 
 machine was there, disrespectfully leaning against the 
 stone couch, the tires brushing the fleurs-de-lis on the 
 shield. 
 
 " I rather doubt whether the knight's relatives come 
 to visit him after or before midnight, and I confess that 
 I was ignorant of the resemblance between my beard and 
 his," replied Michel, who had recovered from his sur- 
 prise, and was amused by the self-possession of the young 
 girl who, terrified at finding herself alone with a statue, 
 instantly felt at her ease with a being in flesh and blood.
 
 18 APRIL'S LADY 
 
 " On the other hand," he went on, " I know that manj 
 highway robbers would appear very presentable to-day 
 in comparison with myself, and I ought to be grateful to 
 you for having feared only a phantom when you saw 
 me in my present guise." 
 
 " Oh ! even a robber would have been welcome in the 
 state of mind in which I was," replied the young girl, 
 putting into her oh! all the unconscious drollery of her 
 foreign accent. 
 
 " So you would not have hesitated between a pick- 
 pocket and a ghost? " 
 
 " Not an instant." 
 
 " Well," answered Tremor, laughing, " I believe I am 
 neither one nor the other, and if I can be useful to you 
 in any way I shall be delighted. I suppose some mis- 
 understanding has separated you from the companions 
 of your ride and you are lost in the woods like Hop o' 
 my Thumb?" 
 
 Michel Tremor usually affected a rather cold reserve 
 toward women. But in the presence of this child who 
 might need his protection, and whom he met outside of 
 social conventionalities, he had spoken very naturally, 
 with somewhat familiar simplicity. 
 
 The young girl was apparently offended by this lack 
 of formality. Perhaps, too, now that she was reas- 
 sured concerning the appearance of a ghost, she felt, 
 after the first impression of relief, that she must show 
 some caution in the presence of the terrestrial being 
 whom her childish terror had so joyously welcomed. 
 Her little head was thrown back, her delicate nostrils
 
 APRIL'S LADY 19 
 
 contracted, the whole saucy face expressed supreme dis- 
 dain. 
 
 " No misunderstanding has separated me from my 
 companions, sir, for I was alone and as I never go with- 
 out a road-map, I had no cause to fear the fate of Hop 
 o' my Thumb. But I had just been to see some poor 
 people and attracted by the pretty nooks in the woods, 
 I was loitering like Little Red Riding Hood, I be- 
 lieve when the rain began to fall. That is what 
 forced me to take refuge in this ruin, where I shall wait 
 for the end of the shower very patiently." 
 
 " On condition that the ghosts don't appear," Michel 
 was about to answer, smiling at the tone of offence. 
 
 But he reflected that the young stranger had doubt- 
 less reached the age for the first long dresses, the period 
 when, full of their new dignity, young girls live in the 
 constant fear of being still treated like children. 
 
 He bowed silently, went to the entrance and, having 
 removed his cloak, heavy with dampness, began to look 
 out of doors. 
 
 " Is it still raining ? " asked the young girl, a little 
 softened. 
 
 " Not so much." 
 
 There was silence for several minutes then, seeing 
 that Michel showed the most peaceful intentions, the 
 stranger thawed entirely and came to lean against the 
 doorway opposite to him. 
 
 " I can't offer you my cloak, for the rain has turned 
 it into a sponge, and I am very much afraid that you 
 will take cold," remarked the young man quietly.
 
 20 APRIL'S LADY 
 
 She shook her head: 
 
 " I don't think so, sir ; at any rate, I prefer the cold 
 to darkness, which I hate." 
 
 In fact, the interior of the chapel was now almost 
 dark, and the knight's tomb, on which the last rays of 
 light fell more directly, glimmered vaguely without 
 definite outlines in the shadow. 
 
 Michel smiled. The bicyclist added : 
 
 " This chapel, so full of mystery, terrifies me. When 
 I saw the bell turrets appear, I did not expect to enter a 
 tomb. But I don't know this region. I have only been 
 here since Saturday that is, scarcely five days. What 
 was the name of the knight who is buried here, when he 
 was alive? Hasn't he the reputation of leaving his 
 funeral bed sometimes, now that he is dead? " 
 
 " He has, not wishing to fail in this duty of every 
 honest legendary dead man ; but calm yourself, the mid- 
 night air, I repeat, is the only one which spectres can 
 breathe. As for the knight's name, I regret that I can- 
 not tell you ; let us see." 
 
 Michel struck a match and, approaching the tomb, 
 threw its light upon this sentence deeply graven in the 
 stone : " Allys was the lady of his heart." It was fol- 
 lowed by another: " Is there a sweeter name? " 
 
 " It is said," the young man went on, blowing out 
 the match, " that, betrayed by some fair chatelaine who 
 had promised him her faith, the poor knight set out for 
 Palestine. Mortally wounded in battle, and in despair 
 that he could never again see her whom he still loved, 
 he was cared for by pilgrims who vowed to him that they 
 would carry his body back to France, but in the anguish
 
 APRIL'S LADY 21 
 
 of the death agony, the knight had forgotten his own 
 name, and most of the circumstances of his former life. 
 He could tell the charitable pilgrims only the story of 
 his love and the name of its unworthy object. This 
 was carved upon the crusader's tomb, with the words 
 which he had doubtless uttered to excuse himself for no 
 longer knowing what he himself was called : ' Is there a 
 sweeter name?' This is the primitive tradition, then 
 popular imagination furnished a variation, evidently 
 suggested by these somewhat obscure words : the knight, 
 by forgetting that the name of Mary exceeds in sweet- 
 ness every human word, had committed a blasphemy. 
 Condemned to wander in the wood every midnight, he 
 will know supreme repose only on the day when, by 
 some miracle, the name of a mortal written on the chapel 
 wall will seem sweeter to his ear than that of Allys, and 
 will make his heart beat again. If we were not en- 
 veloped in darkness, you could see how many charitable 
 souls have attempted to soothe this desolate shade, but 
 they are, in general, the souls of tourists. For a pop- 
 ular saying adds that the ghost, captivated and very 
 jealous of the lady of his salvation, would not permit 
 her to belong to another, but would again become a man 
 to wed her himself and the girls in this neighbour- 
 hood are a little afraid of this husband from beyond 
 the grave." 
 
 The young girl laughed. 
 
 " O dear me ! what a wild story but a pretty one, 
 isn't it? " 
 
 " Do you think so ? Then perhaps I am wrong in 
 telling you that this version is only a century old at
 
 22 APRIL'S LADY 
 
 most. The mediaeval spirit which conceived the fancy 
 should have been born in the time of Hernani! The 
 tomb, besides, was built before the chapel, which is a 
 consolation, though it certainly does not date back to 
 the crusades." 
 
 " Nonsense," replied the stranger obstinately ; 
 " those considerations do not attack the truth or at 
 least the probability of the tale. Palestine, which can 
 be replaced by another country, and the Saracens, for 
 whom another people can be substituted, alone count 
 in this legend ; the knight might have lived in any age." 
 
 " Alas ! you are right," Michel assented ; " the story 
 of the poor, brave man who is deceived, and dies of it, 
 belongs to every time." 
 
 And he thought : 
 
 " Men do not always die of it ; they are most fre- 
 quently cured, but is that a blessing? " 
 
 Then he thought himself utterly ridiculous. As for 
 his companion in captivity, she had scarcely heard the 
 remark and did not divine the reflection ; she was gravely 
 sharpening a pencil with a huge pocket knife. 
 
 " I am going to write my name on the wall," she said 
 earnestly ; " I, too, want to make an effort for the re- 
 pose of the poor knight." 
 
 Michel obligingly opened the precious box of matches, 
 but the young girl had already lighted the lantern of 
 her machine and knelt near the wall. So, leaving her 
 to her childish task, he remained at the threshold of 
 the chapel. His burning temples were relieved by the 
 coolness of the atmosphere. 
 
 Besides, the weather was improving ; the pattering of
 
 APRIL'S LADY 23 
 
 the rain had ceased. The streams, swollen by the storm, 
 were singing in the tranquil peace of the forest, and at 
 times the trilling of a bird blended with their contin- 
 uous murmur. 
 
 " It will be a fine evening," Michel predicted. 
 
 " So much the better," replied the bicyclist. 
 
 Then she rose. 
 
 " That is done," she added. " Who knows, per- 
 haps I have thus bound myself to the unknown knight 
 and have agreed to become his wife ? " 
 
 Michel was on the point of asking what name she 
 had written, but he was afraid of again rousing a sen- 
 sitiveness which he knew to be somewhat suspicious. 
 
 " Oh," he replied, " I should be a little surprised if 
 the knight, even to wed you, Mademoiselle, should care 
 to encumber himself with the burden of life for the sec- 
 ond time. I rather believe that if your name is sweeter 
 than that of Allys, the noble paladin will have the in- 
 gratitude to forget her who bears it, in the delight of 
 feeling himself at last forever dead." 
 
 " Who knows ? Who knows ? Perhaps he will wish 
 to enjoy modern life! Perhaps the improvements of 
 my bicycle may touch his heart. In his time, it could 
 not have been pleasant every day." 
 
 While speaking the young girl had raised her ma- 
 chine and was somewhat nervously adjusting the lan- 
 tern. 
 
 " Come, I think the shower is over," said Michel, tak- 
 ing a step outside of the chapel. 
 
 At first the stranger did not reply, then she began 
 abruptly :
 
 24 APRIL'S LADY 
 
 " I should like to know, sir, if by chance you and I 
 are going in the same direction. Darkness, darkness 
 in the woods makes an impression which I cannot con- 
 trol in short, I am afraid." 
 
 Michel could not help smiling. Offering no apol- 
 ogy for the resentment with which she had just now 
 refused his offer of service, she condescended to ask it 
 without too much haughtiness, now that he no longer 
 offered. 
 
 " I should be unpardonable to permit you to cross 
 the forest alone at this hour," he answered charitably, 
 without pluming himself on his victory. " If you 
 will allow me, I will take you to your home." 
 
 " I am going to the chateau of Precroix, to Madame 
 Bethune's." 
 
 " To Madame Bethune's, capital ! Precroix is even 
 nearer than the tower of Saint-Sylvere, where I go after- 
 ward." 
 
 The young girl uttered a little cry of surprise. 
 
 " Do you live in the tower of Saint-Sylvere ? " 
 
 " Certainly as its owner. May I ask why you 
 seem astonished? " 
 
 " Astonished, oh ! not at all ! But I admired from a 
 distance, two days ago, the strange dwelling of which 
 Claude Bethune had told me." 
 
 Michel took the bicycle and with a swift movement 
 drew it across the threshold of the chapel, then he turned 
 toward the little stranger. 
 
 " Oh ! " she cried, " I was not mistaken, you are like 
 the knight. I don't know whether it is the carriage of
 
 APRIL'S LADY 25 
 
 your head or the cut of your beard but it is strik- 
 ing!" 
 
 " I shall be charmed if the resemblance does not end 
 by terrifying you," replied the young man laughing. 
 " Shall we go? " 
 
 In twenty minutes they had gained the road. Michel 
 pushed the machine which ran with difficulty over the 
 soaked earth, furrowed by ruts; the stranger, with 
 her hand on the other end of the handle-bar, walked at 
 his side with a firm, regular step. 
 
 " I did not suppose that Madame Bethune would 
 reach Rivailler until the first of next month," Tremor 
 began for the sake of saying something. 
 
 " Precroix is to be given up to workmen and, as 
 Madame Bethune expects to be absent all summer, she 
 thought it useful to superintend the commencement of 
 the intended repairs herself." 
 
 " She is so extraordinarily active ! A regular Ameri- 
 can, isn't she? But it seems to me that the work at 
 Precroix is depriving her a little of the pleasure of look- 
 ing after her guests ? " 
 
 This suggestion was answered by a shrug of the 
 shoulders. 
 
 " Is it because you have met me alone that you make 
 the remark, sir? Yet it is perfectly natural. Madame 
 Bethune, as you have just said, is a true American. 
 Since she could not leave the chateau to-day and carry 
 herself the help urgently needed by one of her depend- 
 ants the mother of a peasant in the suburbs she 
 asked me to take her place in the task. The distance
 
 26 APRIL'S LADY 
 
 was somewhat long, so I rode my bicycle, and that is 
 the whole affair. If necessary, I would do it again to- 
 morrow. It would be impossible for me ever to endure 
 the humiliating dependence to which your young French 
 women submit." 
 
 " Yes, but then " Michel timidly ob j ected. 
 
 A merry laugh interrupted him. 
 
 " Then one ought not to fear dead knights or dark- 
 ness. I admit it." 
 
 Leaving the forest behind them, Michel and his com- 
 panion now walked along the edge of the freshly 
 ploughed fields which stretched along both sides of the 
 road, and exhaled a good, healthful odour of wet earth : 
 in the distance the lights of Rivailler dotted with fire 
 the almost total darkness of the night. From time to 
 time the footsteps of a peasant in sabots, or the creak- 
 ing of a heavily loaded cart disturbed the silence of the 
 country, then the peasant passed with a mechanical 
 good evening, the jolting outline of the vehicle crossed 
 gradually, as if in fragments, the luminous ray cast by 
 the bicycle lantern, and all sounds died away until lost in 
 the darkness of the night. 
 
 " If I had not met you," said the young girl frankly, 
 " I should have died of fright ; my corpse would have 
 been found in the chapel to-morrow." 
 
 "And the story which pleased you would have been 
 enlarged by a new incident. People would have said 
 that, charmed by your name and unable to resign him- 
 self to losing you, the worthy knight had borne you to 
 the other world. That is the way legends are always 
 created."
 
 APRIL'S LADY 27 
 
 " I love them when they are as interesting as this one. 
 Has not the tower of Saint-Sylvere any ? " 
 
 " No," replied Michel, somewhat curtly, without know- 
 ing why. 
 
 All conversation ceased for several minutes. Michel 
 left the road and took the direct route which, passing 
 around the village, led to the chateau of Precroix. 
 
 At last the young man tried to resume the common- 
 place dialogue. 
 
 " Is Monsieur Bethune at Rivailler too ? " 
 
 " No," replied the stranger, who had not noticed the 
 short reply just made by her improvised protector. 
 " Monsieur Bethune isn't fond of the country." 
 
 "And the children?" 
 
 " Maude and Claire are here, but Claude remained in 
 Paris with his father on account of his school." 
 
 " Claude is one of my great friends." 
 
 " One of mine too. We correspond. What a nice boy 
 he is ! So full of fun and a tease ! O such a tease ! " 
 
 " Really ! Would Claude venture to tease you, Ma- 
 demoiselle ? " 
 
 " Oh ! dear me! Would he tease me ! " cried the young 
 girl. 
 
 " And you don't scold him ? " 
 
 " I do scold him. But Claude is like me, he recog- 
 nises no authority." 
 
 " What, you are an anarchist to that degree ? " 
 
 " Certainly." 
 
 " You recognise no authority ? " 
 
 " None," flatly declared the amazing little lady. 
 Then she went on, laughing:
 
 28 APRIL'S LADY 
 
 " To tell the truth, at this moment, by way of excep- 
 tion, I am forced to admit that of the Bethunes' gov- 
 erness." 
 
 A comical exclamation of horror escaped the lips of 
 Michel. 
 
 " Miss Sarah, isn't it? An old American, thin as 
 people rarely are, uglier than the ugliest, and romantic 
 into the bargain ! I saw her last year at Precroix. As 
 I pitied her loneliness and talked with her sometimes, I 
 was accused of paying her attention. Poor thing! It 
 seems that she has an unbearable temper." 
 
 Another peal of laughter rippled upon the night air. 
 
 " It is impossible to describe the Bethune governess 
 better," said the bicyclist approvingly. " Perhaps you 
 slightly exaggerate her thinness, her ugliness, and her 
 age, but as to being unbearable and difficult to live with 
 . . . ah! that indeed she is, I'll answer for it! 
 . . . Yet I must admit that we get along together 
 tolerably well." 
 
 " I congratulate you upon it." 
 
 At this moment Michel stopped before the gate of 
 the chateau of Precroix. 
 
 " Here we are at our goal, Mademoiselle," he said. 
 " You will pardon me for not escorting you to the cha- 
 teau, I should be ashamed to present myself there in this 
 condition. Madame Bethune will excuse me for de- 
 ferring my call until better weather. May I ask you 
 kindly to give her the regards of Michel Tremor? " 
 
 This time again, the young man felt a curiosity to 
 know what name had been written in the knight's chapel 
 by this singular little creature from beyond the sea,
 
 APRIL'S LADY 29 
 
 but there seemed to be no disposition to confide it to him, 
 and Michel refrained from any question. 
 
 " Thank you very much, sir," said the young girl, 
 cordially. 
 
 Then she pushed the gate, which was open, bowed a 
 farewell and, trundling her bicycle, began to ascend the 
 very short avenue which led to the flight of steps at the 
 entrance of the chateau. 
 
 It was half past seven o'clock. 
 
 When Tremor reached the tower of Saint-Sylvere, he 
 had already forgotten the little bicyclist of the Green 
 Sepulchre. As at the cross-roads of Jouvelles, memo- 
 ries of a more distant past assailed him. 
 
 Poor, and detesting poverty, Faustine Morel had 
 never had but one thought, one purpose : to escape from 
 the humdrum life beneath which her pride suffered. In 
 view of this object, she had avoided society, she had en- 
 trenched herself behind a haughty reserve, she had 
 played, like a great actress, the sympathetic part of the 
 young girl whose dowry was too small for her to think 
 of marriage, too beautiful and too ardent not to love, 
 too proud to let it be seen. Sometimes, carried away by 
 her art, she had, like certain actresses, thrilled with genu- 
 ine emotion, wept real tears, but the clever brain, always 
 dominating thi& simulated sincerity of the nerves, had 
 used them as a means. She had never loved Michel. 
 With what artlessness the poor simpleton had entered 
 the snare ; what a triumph for Faustine Morel up to 
 the day she had found a better match. 
 
 " She was not worthy of my regrets," Michel re- 
 peated to himself, " no, she was not worthy of that great
 
 30 APRIL'S LADY 
 
 homage, the grief of an honest, upright heart and 
 
 yet . . ." 
 
 Yet, at that very hour, after having spent months 
 without giving Faustine a thought, Tremor could not 
 banish the image of former days. It haunted him, ex- 
 quisite, alluring, this vision which recalled treachery, 
 suffering, exile, but also faith, youth, love! 
 
 He would fain have seen Comtesse Wronska again 
 like the portrait of a dead woman whom he had loved, 
 he would have desired to find in her the personification 
 of a past that had been very dear. Now he knew the 
 place, the day, and the hour when the sweet phantom 
 could be evoked. 
 
 In the tower of Saint- Sylvere, Madame Fauvel's 
 brother re-read the letter he had received, then wrote a 
 few lines in reply, affectionately excusing himself for 
 resisting the kind entreaty addressed to him, and gravely 
 extolling the unappreciated charms of the " dove-cote." 
 As he did not feel in a mood for jesting, he neglected to 
 speak of the extravagant marriage Colette had planned ; 
 on the other hand, he did not fail to slip in an allusion 
 to the meeting she had mentioned. Certain silences say 
 too much. Madame Fauvel must not suspect the emo- 
 tion her letter had caused. 
 
 The young man gazed long and vacantly at the en- 
 velope which he had just sealed, then he buried his face 
 in his hands, and remained in this attitude, perhaps to 
 conceal the burning blush which mounted to his fore- 
 head. 
 
 The morning of the next day but one Friday 
 he took the ten o'clock train.
 
 Ill 
 
 1VI. ICHEL passed suddenly from the peaceful sweet- 
 ness of Rivailler and the quiet of the tower of Saint- 
 Sylvere to the fever and noise of Paris. Upon entering 
 the over-heated hall of the opera house which, at that 
 instant was filled with the clear notes of a symphony, 
 he felt as if he were in a disagreeable and oppressive 
 dream. 
 
 The curtain had risen. The young man did not see 
 or saw so vaguely that no clear perception could be 
 engraved upon his brain, the persons moving beyond the 
 foot-lights dull costumes, rustic figures, workmen or 
 peasants in a rural stage setting. 
 
 As he slipped along the rows of chairs, a voice was 
 declaiming a recitative : three or four hands clasped his 
 in passing ; familiar faces appeared in the uniform row ; 
 hasty greetings, " how are yous," which did not expect 
 a reply, buzzed in his ears, and he made some of the 
 absurd remarks about surrounding things which some- 
 times cross the mind at the very time an intense and often 
 sorrowful thought occupies it. 
 
 As soon as he was seated, he searched the opera house 
 for Madame Wronska. Madame Vernier's box? Was 
 it this one or that? Besides, Faustine was not there. 
 The orchestra was pouring forth tempests of sound 
 which half drowned the voices of the singers and, in these 
 sonorous roars mingled something like other voices, 
 strange, despairing Faustine was not there. Then 
 
 31
 
 32 APRIL'S LADY 
 
 suddenly, beneath the features of a woman dressed in 
 white satin at whom he was mechanically looking, a move- 
 ment of the eyelashes, an expression of the lips, sud- 
 denly revealed her to him with so vivid a remembrance 
 that, for a second, he lost the idea of the present and his 
 breath almost stopped. Oh, how entirely it was she, 
 terribly, cruelly she herself! But it was only like a 
 flash of lightning: almost instantly the stranger in 
 white appeared. 
 
 In the orchestra the flutes were singing limpidly, 
 soothingly, united with the sweetest voices. 
 
 By the side of Comtesse Wronska, the inevitable 
 Madame Morel, always dignified and respectable in her 
 eternal velvet livery, opened her expressionless eyes very 
 wide. During the years the outlines of her face seemed 
 to have grown even less marked, and Michel was re- 
 minded of the old-fashioned photos, pallid and imper- 
 fectly fixed, with which he used to amuse himself in his 
 childhood while turning over his uncle Tremor's albums. 
 
 But the comtesse was taking up her opera glasses 
 he instantly lowered his. At the idea of being surprised 
 in watching her, a feeling of shame overwhelmed him. 
 
 A high, very pure note made him start; he raised his 
 head and tried to dispel his preoccupation by listening 
 to Bruneau's Messidor; but the act was closing. 
 
 By degrees the chairs emptied. Michel found himself 
 outside of the hall, making his way through the corri- 
 dors at the side of one of his friends, a deputy of very 
 positive convictions, who was explaining to him, figures 
 in hand, beneficent theories concerning the monopolisa- 
 tion of alcohol. Then as he was hurrying back to his
 
 APRIL'S LADY 33 
 
 seat, Adrien Dereux, one of the young men who had 
 clasped his hand when he came in, stopped him. Lean- 
 ing against the door, they began to talk, and Tremor 
 listened absently to the clubman's chatter, as he had 
 listened to the economical theses of the parliamentarian, 
 up to the moment when Dereux asked if he had gone to 
 pay his respects to Comtesse Wronska. 
 
 " No," replied Michel with great surprise. 
 
 " She is a splendid creature ! " Dereux went on, with- 
 out noticing his companion's astonishment, and in the 
 tone he would have used in speaking of a fine race- 
 horse. " I was introduced to her at Montebello, at the 
 time of the coronation, you know. That idiot of a 
 comte was still alive, and she was terribly virtuous. She 
 is a very clever little woman, but old Stanislas left her 
 nothing at all. True, while he was alive he gave her 
 jewels enough for quite a pretty fortune . . ." 
 
 He continued to dilate upon the aesthetic perfections 
 of Madame Wronska, then he added: 
 
 " Ah ! you know the beautiful Faustine, I was not 
 aware . . ." 
 
 " That is, I did know, seven or eight years ago, 
 Mademoiselle Morel, who at that time was a very inti- 
 mate friend of my sister," interrupted Michel, irritated. 
 
 " Yes ! Well, my dear fellow, Comtesse Wronska re- 
 members this distant past, for she enquired about you 
 just now, and added that she expected to see you between 
 the acts." 
 
 " Comtesse Wronska is very kind." 
 
 " Isn't she? And very beautiful . . . Ah, my 
 dear fellow ."
 
 34 APRIL'S LADY 
 
 He was starting off again with the same vehemence, but 
 the crowd began to go back into the hall, and the two 
 young men separated. Michel listened very attentively 
 to the new act, trying to interest himself in the inco- 
 herent symbolism of the drama. But his thoughts were 
 constantly drawn elsewhere and he could fix them only 
 at the cost of wearisome effort. When the curtain fell 
 upon the fine classical gesture of the sower who, alone 
 in the darkness of the night, confides to the soil the hope 
 of the next harvest, the young man breathed more freely. 
 
 This time he let the flood of spectators flow past and 
 remained in his seat, watching without interest the boxes, 
 most of them empty, with dim shadows moving in their 
 depths. 
 
 Madame Morel had disappeared. Faustine was turn- 
 ing her back to the hall to talk with a lady sitting on 
 the second platform, and a gentleman who stood lean- 
 ing against the partition, with his gloves and opera 
 hat in his hand. Michel felt someone touch his arm 
 and saw Dereux, still smiling, with the contortion that 
 deformed his cheek when his monocle was on the verge 
 of falling. 
 
 " Tremor," said he, " Contesse Wronska has sent me 
 for you." 
 
 And he added : 
 
 " My compliments." 
 
 " There is no reason for them," growled Tremor. 
 
 He tried to smile on leaving Dereux, but his heart 
 was in a vise. The whole evening had appeared atro- 
 ciously long and painful. He had come to seek a mem- 
 ory, the image of a beloved past, or perhaps he had
 
 APRIL'S LADY 35 
 
 made this excuse for his unwholesome desire to see once 
 more the only woman whom he had sincerely loved. But 
 no matter! In Faustine, his eager eyes had not met this 
 much desired reflection of former days ; they had mourn- 
 fully beheld the unfamiliar profile of this " magnificent 
 creature " whose ideal beauty was sullied by the liber- 
 tine admiration of the first fool. And, suffering from a 
 sort of spiritual grief, Michel could yet watch himself 
 suffer and laugh at himself . . . What had the 
 eternal simpleton expected? 
 
 In the corridor he met Madame Morel, who was talk- 
 ing with a lady. He bowed without pausing. 
 
 When he entered the box, a trifle pale, but sufficiently 
 master of himself to permit no outward sign to betray 
 his emotion, Faustine was alone, surveying the audience 
 through her opera glasses. 
 
 At the sound of the opening door she turned: 
 
 "At last!" 
 
 Tremor had bowed with a courteous, but very cold 
 respect. 
 
 " Monsieur Dereux told me, Madame, that you did me 
 the honor to send for me." 
 
 He intended to imply from the beginning, perhaps a 
 little brutally, that his visit was not absolutely volun- 
 tary. 
 
 Comtesse Wronska pointed with her fan to a chair 
 near her. 
 
 " Monsieur Dereux has reminded you of your 
 duty," she retorted lightly. " I have many friends in 
 Paris, and all who are here to-night have welcomed 
 me."
 
 36 APRIL'S LADY 
 
 " That is because they doubtless have more confidence 
 in your memory and their own merit than I, Madame. 
 I confess that I thought myself too completely forgot- 
 ten to pay my respects to you. I thank you for having 
 proved that I am mistaken." 
 
 This absolute correctness of deportment nevertheless 
 permitted a certain shade of aggressiveness to appear, 
 but if Tremor's heart was throbbing almost to suffoca- 
 tion, his voice did not tremble. 
 
 Faustine looked at the young man steadily. 
 
 " Sit down," she said in the same tone of cordial and 
 winning courtesy. 
 
 He obeyed, and while a very slight smile hovered 
 around his lips, he began to scan the hall. 
 
 " A fine room," he remarked, adopting the same man- 
 ner. 
 
 " Superb ! " carelessly assented the comtesse. 
 
 While mentioning the well-known persons whom he 
 had seen in the opera house, Marcel Prevost in the or- 
 chestra, Madame Augusta Holmes in the amphitheatre, 
 the Minister of the Interior in a box, and many others 
 here and there, Michel gazed at the young widow. 
 
 Yes, she was changed, greatly changed; he was no 
 longer surprised that he had not instantly recognised 
 her. Was she more beautiful? He did not know. She 
 was different. Her bust was magnificently developed, 
 though the waist, closely clasped by a jewelled belt, re- 
 mained very small and supple; the milky whiteness of 
 the shoulders was scarcely distinguishable from that of 
 the silver embroidered satin gown which framed them 
 and fell without a fold, defining the outlines of a stat-
 
 APRIL'S LADY 37 
 
 uesque figure ; each feature of the face was striking ; the 
 slight curve of the lashes, perhaps pencilled with black, 
 were outlined a trifle harshly upon the low brow, shaded 
 by a mass of golden hair somewhat darker than before, 
 perhaps artificially reddened. But the eyes especially, 
 the eyes were no longer the same. 
 
 Faustine, too, was doubtless seeking in the manly 
 countenance of the promised husband of her youth the 
 traces of the years, of life, of sorrows. There are hours 
 when only decisive trivial words come to the lips, when 
 we can say only too much or too little ; there could be no 
 half way between Michel Tremor and Faustine Morel, 
 and both had tacitly comprehended it. 
 
 Meanwhile they discussed music, talked of Messidor 
 and the various lyrical efforts of Bruneau, then they 
 reached Wagner, the last season at Bayreuth. Some- 
 times the little bitter smile, a phantom of the past, hov- 
 ered around Faustine's lips and the fleeting expression 
 contained a whole mystery of irony, perhaps the irony 
 of those who, by an involuntary division of their per- 
 sonalities, continually watch themselves playing the com- 
 edy of life, and pity themselves for taking so much 
 trouble about so trifling a thing. 
 
 Suddenly they were silent. The conversation through 
 whose polite, conventional words came a sort of aggres- 
 sion, the conversation in which each was afraid to let 
 the other speak, stopped. They were silent, and the 
 emptiness of their words was instantly filled in their ears 
 by the buzz of the great hall, the noise of a crowd which 
 is almost a silence, as the crowd itself is almost a soli- 
 tude. It gave them the impression of a glacial cold.
 
 38 APRIL'S LADY 
 
 Then, in a very low tone, suddenly casting aside the care- 
 lessness she had just affected, Faustine faltered: 
 
 " How long ago it is . . ." A sentence which 
 said much or very little. 
 
 Michel wished to take it as saying very little. 
 
 " Very long," he repeated. " Have you never re- 
 turned to France? " 
 
 She went on, still in a low voice : 
 
 " You know that that I am a widow ? " 
 
 " I learned it recently, yes," said Tremor, this time 
 gravely, " and I pitied you." 
 
 The little bitter smile on the red lips deepened. 
 
 " And you," the young woman continued ; " you have 
 travelled, worked. I have read your articles in the 
 Revue des Deux Mondes. Oh! you will succeed, I am 
 sure you can expect much ! " 
 
 She seemed scarcely to be addressing Michel, and he 
 contented himself with bowing without an answer. 
 
 " You were shocked, were you not, just now, when 
 I sent for you ? " she asked abruptly. 
 
 " I was very much astonished, Madame." 
 
 Another silence followed these words, then in a still 
 lower tone Faustine added : 
 
 " Yet I must tell you, explain . . ." 
 
 Michel hastily raised his head, and looking at the 
 young widow, said: 
 
 " Oh, I understand ; let us not allude to the past." 
 
 The door opened, the dismal figure of Madame Morel 
 appeared. Michel rose. As he was formally taking 
 leave, Madame Wronska held out her hand to him, and 
 while yielding to his clasp the warm delicate fingers, the
 
 APRIL'S LADY 39 
 
 white blossom of flesh which had just been drawn from 
 the perfumed glove, she murmured : 
 
 " I am at the Continental. I shall see you again, shall 
 I not?" 
 
 But Michel's face did not brighten. 
 
 " I am afraid not, Madame. I shall return to Rivailler 
 to-morrow, and shall probably remain there until my 
 departure for Norway, where I shall spend the sum- 
 mer," he replied. 
 
 And, again bowing to Madame Morel and Faustine, 
 he went out. 
 
 The act was beginning; the young man waited until 
 the end, then he left the opera house. 
 
 Now all excitement was dead, leaving in its place a 
 great moral lassitude, which resembled the sadness of a 
 deception. 
 
 As Michel mechanically went up the Avenue de 1'Opera, 
 Monsieur Bethune, who was returning on foot from 
 the Theatre Fran9ais with Claude and Baron Pont- 
 maury, stopped him a moment; then all four resumed 
 their walk and while Pontmaury and the owner of Pre- 
 croix plunged again into the financial discussion which 
 this meeting had interrupted, Michel took Claude's arm. 
 
 Ah, this nice boy Claude, the glory of a scholastic 
 group of tennis and football players, cyclist emeritus, 
 future director of sports, was not an intellectual fellow. 
 Yet he was soon going to finish his last year but one, 
 and the shadow of the bachelor's degree was waxing on 
 the horizon. Tremor, who had not seen his little com- 
 rade for some time, talked with him about the school and 
 the new programmes.
 
 40 APRIL'S LADY 
 
 But college, as soon as the day was over and even a 
 little before its close, occupied Claude's mind very little 
 except from the standpoint of tricks to be played on 
 " profs " or ushers. Oh ! then, what larks ! There was 
 one usher on whom they were going to play off one of 
 those well-planned " April Fool " pranks which a man 
 always remembers if he j ogs along to be a hundred years 
 old. 
 
 Michel listened indulgently to the details of the April 
 Fool, which were more droll than malicious ; then he heard 
 the story of the last match of the Velo Club, and the 
 dithyrambic description of an automobile. Farewell to 
 the bachelor's degree and the programmes. 
 
 In the presence of this fresh, healthy, exuberant youth, 
 intoxicated with strength, bustle, and fresh air, Tremor 
 thought of his own, so serious, so prematurely mature. 
 Claude was nearly sixteen and in his robust body lived 
 a still childlike soul. Michel did not remember ever 
 being sixteen. At the time of obtaining the first rank 
 in the university, he had considered every hour given to 
 sport an hour lost; a fine enthusiasm had intoxicated 
 him ; he wanted to learn, to fathom, to grasp everything. 
 He devoured huge books, stuffed his brain with facts 
 and ideas, and grieved because absolute truth did not 
 come forth from them. 
 
 At the university, Michel, always obliging and wholly 
 free from vanity, was beloved by his companions, and 
 respected also, for if he was known to be capable of win- 
 ning a prize in the general competition, several jokers 
 had already discovered that he did not confine himself 
 to being strong in his studies and that malicious jests
 
 APRIL'S LADY 41 
 
 might not be well received. But he was very little under- 
 stood. Between him and the young men among whom 
 he daily sat, under the same instruction, occupied in the 
 same studies, the relations were very superficial, very 
 commonplace. Those of his fellow students who knew 
 him. best often reproached him with " taking everything 
 seriously." 
 
 This had really been Michel's error; at least, he now 
 thought it his duty to prove it. It was because he had 
 taken his first love dream seriously that he had made it 
 the sole romance of his youth; it was because he had 
 taken seriously that common deception, a woman's treach- 
 ery, that he had spoiled his life ; it was because he took 
 everything seriously that a word so easily wounded him 
 to the heart, that a doubt so easily tortured his mind, 
 and that every instant some discouragement overwhelmed 
 him. Doubtless he had expected too much from truth, 
 from science, from love, from life; the chimeras had 
 been too beautiful, and he was not one of those whom 
 inferior realities console. 
 
 Bethune had called a carriage; they were about to 
 separate. Claude took leave of his companion who, per- 
 haps, had seemed a little absent-minded during the past 
 few minutes. 
 
 " I suppose you think me an idiot, eh ? " 
 
 Michel smiled, and accompanying his reply with a 
 friendly pat on the shoulder, said : 
 
 " You are perfectly right ; go ahead ! " 
 
 Yes, you are right, added Tremor mentally; bicycle, 
 go boating, run races, make " April Fools " of your 
 ushers, sketch on your books, read the Velo and the bul-
 
 42 APRIL'S LADY 
 
 letin of the Touring Club and don't think too much, 
 don't dream too much, don't love too much ! At thirty, 
 you will perhaps be a little ashamed when you look back, 
 but age will not have changed you sufficiently for such 
 an adventure to happen to you often; you will console 
 yourself by admiring your muscles, and you will not 
 complain of life, for it will have given you what you 
 asked of it. And as with this you will be a good fellow, 
 an honest man, as your father will have left you too 
 much money for it ever to be necessary for you to enjoy 
 a certain form of sport which we call, after the English, 
 the struggle for life, I don't see, on the whole, for what 
 the grumblers would have a right to reproach you. 
 
 Michel avoided going to the Continental the next day, 
 but he did not return to Rivailler. He spent the greater 
 portion of the morning with Maitre Allinges, his notary, 
 who was just negotiating in his name for the purchase 
 of a house in the Quartier de 1'Etoile, and wanted to 
 talk with him about different matters, then Albert Daran 
 took him by surprise, and carried him off to lunch in the 
 Place de la Madeleine. 
 
 The fate of this friend of Michel was a very singular 
 one. 
 
 When Monsieur Daran, his father, a distiller in the 
 suburbs, had left France on account of bankruptcy, and 
 gone with all his family to settle near Louisville, accept- 
 ing the position generously offered by one of his old 
 friends who had owned for several years a large dis- 
 tillery, Albert had given up without too much regret 
 the studies which, up to that time, he had pursued, with 
 no great success, in one of the universities in Paris.
 
 APRIL'S LADY 43 
 
 But life in Louisville did not seem to him any more 
 attractive. Occupied from morning till night, and mak- 
 ing himself, after his best efforts, of no use in the firm 
 where his father was employed, his sole amusement was 
 to collect stamps which were furnished by his employer's 
 letters, and to rove about the country every Sunday, to 
 gather and classify in his herbal the interesting speci- 
 mens of the flora of Kentucky. A happy occupation ! 
 
 Thanks to his herbal and his knowledge of plants, 
 Albert Daran had found one day, when possessed by the 
 inspiration of genius, the formula for a new cordial, a 
 delicious cordial which seemed perfumed with all the spicy 
 odours of the country ! Remembering his classical read- 
 ings of Chateaubriand and Atala, he had christened it 
 with the obscure name " Elixir des Muscogulges " and 
 it had proved the salvation of himself and his family. 
 
 In fact, the Elixir des Muscogulges, skilfully launched 
 by the lucky inventor's employer, made the tour of the 
 globe. At first it was scarcely seen except in effigy, on 
 the covers of known and unknown periodicals in the New 
 and the Old World, then it was visible everywhere under 
 its real form in the tinted bottle which emphasised its 
 beautiful opaline color, and everywhere it triumphed. 
 Like all good Americans, the young Frenchman had dis- 
 covered his gold mine ! 
 
 Rehabilitated before the laws of his country, Mon- 
 sieur Daran had become, at the end of several years, the 
 partner of his benevolent friend, the intelligent promoter 
 of the elixir, and their exploitation of the banks of the 
 Ohio, was numbered among the largest in that portion of 
 the United States. As for Albert, he had abandoned
 
 44 APRIL'S LADY 
 
 the struggle and, no longer troubling himself about the 
 Muscogulges except to draw every year the fine income 
 from the share he had retained in the Louisville business, 
 returned to France. Nothing now prevented him from 
 satisfying on a larger scale his persistent taste for col- 
 lections and classifications. At the university Albert had 
 collected match boxes ; in Kentucky he had collected 
 stamps and plants. His most recent mania made him 
 visit all the antiquaries in France in pursuit of ecclesi- 
 astical objects, priests' vestments and altar ornaments. 
 It followed many others, and doubtless would be followed 
 by many more. 
 
 The relations between Tremor and Daran dated back 
 to the distant period when one helped the other in trouble- 
 some translations and difficult problems. And already 
 Michel felt touched by the friendship and perhaps also 
 by the enthusiastic admiration his companion showed 
 him. The accidents of life had brought them nearer to 
 each other. They had met unexpectedly in Egypt, at 
 the museum of Boulaq. Michel had found a singular 
 sweetness in the fraternal affection very simply offered, 
 an affection in which the old admiration still entered, 
 then gratitude, for the young paleographist, with un- 
 failing readiness, placed his knowledge of Oriental lan- 
 guages and archaeological questions at the disposal of the 
 ignorant traveller. Great perseverance, extraordinary 
 desire to understand, absolute humility before the knowl- 
 edge of others, permitted Daran to utilise and develop 
 very ordinary talents. A jovial good sense filled the 
 place of intelligence and he possessed, in default of a 
 more thorough education, that innate tact which comes
 
 APRIL'S LADY 45 
 
 from the heart and almost always preserves from churlish 
 scorn the individuals endowed with it. Tremor loved him 
 for his faithful soul, his sometimes brutal sincerity, his 
 confiding goodness, his splendid loyalty as man and 
 friend. 
 
 To know that there is in the world a devotion upon 
 which we can absolutely rely, which we shall always find 
 ready, is very comforting and infinitely sweet in all the 
 hours of life, good and evil. 
 
 Michel at least thought so, and a strange thing 
 the dunce of the university, the inventor of the Elixir 
 des Muscogulges, the artless tourist of the museum of 
 Boulaq, was the only human being whom he voluntarily 
 allowed to suspect anything of his inner life, the sole 
 person whom he sometimes permitted to read his soul, 
 sealed to all the rest of the world.
 
 IV 
 
 leaving the restaurant where they had lunched, 
 the two young men went down the Rue Royale. 
 
 It was one of those beautiful days in Paris when it 
 seems as if spring is mysteriously passing into the air. 
 Here it comes in the form of a young girl in a light 
 gown, and yonder, invisible, among the fragrant odours 
 of gillyflowers sold on the sidewalks. Flowers, flow- 
 ers, flowers ! They are everywhere, in the arms of chil- 
 dren, at the belts of women, in the ears of the horses; 
 business men carry them in their hands; porters have 
 their backs loaded with them ; the cook keeps in a corner 
 of her basket a bouquet of fresh jonquils, and the un- 
 kempt street boy holds a violet between his teeth. 
 
 In the Champs Elysees, children are running about 
 under the trees with shouts of j oy, in the midst of great 
 clouds of golden dust, and on the benches old people 
 are warming themselves with happy faces. 
 
 " The 30th of March already ! How the- days pass ! 
 We are in the midst of spring ! " 
 
 Having made this original remark, Daran suddenly 
 slipped his arm through Michel's, who had not answered. 
 
 " I would give all my collections and even this ex- 
 traordinary monstrance of which I was just speaking, 
 to see you happy, my dear Michel," said he. 
 
 Michel started. 
 
 " Happy ! " he repeated, " but why should you sup- 
 
 pose that I am not happy ? " 
 
 46
 
 APRIL'S LADY 47 
 
 Daran shrugged his shoulders. 
 
 " No ; you are not happy," he replied. " Ah ! it is 
 unfortunate that some worthy robber will not some day 
 do you the service of stealing a fiftieth of a thousand 
 pounds of income." 
 
 " You are delightful ! " exclaimed Tremor with an 
 amused smile. " Do I spend my fortune foolishly? " 
 
 " Not at all, but if you were poor, you would not 
 confine yourself to this negative wisdom; you would 
 work ; that is all." 
 
 " Do I lead the life of an idler? " 
 
 " No, certainly not ; you work, you work but when 
 you have time. You travel, too, but you take no pleas- 
 ure anywhere. I would almost prefer to gee you pro- 
 vided with a little place as archivist in some provincial 
 city." 
 
 Michel laughed. 
 
 " Ah ! well, tell me, what great work do you accomplish 
 yourself? " 
 
 " I am only a sluggard, I confess, but with me it is 
 different. I have not a brain that starts off on every 
 pretext for the land of the impossible, nor a heart whose 
 favourite pastime is to tear itself into bits. In short, 
 I am a very commonplace fellow, incapable of anything 
 great, anything useful. I am the inventor of the Elixir 
 des Muscogulges ! As much as saying that I am not 
 anybody. You are somebody, and if you ever become 
 the inventor of anything, you will be able to sign your 
 work. Would not your history of the thingumbob 
 what do you call that barbarous people? " 
 
 " The Hetheens."
 
 48 APRIL'S LADY 
 
 " That's it. Well, are you working on your his- 
 tory of the Hetheens now that, to obtain the material, 
 you have made a journey to Egypt, one to Greece, and 
 two to Syria? " 
 
 " But I really intend to work upon it, my dear Men- 
 tor, and when I have returned from Norway 
 
 " I was expecting that. For you to begin anything, 
 you must always return from somewhere. If you had 
 no money, you would work, I tell you." 
 
 " Oh ! " cried Michel, " my history of the Hetheens 
 wouldn't flood me with bank notes." 
 
 " Perhaps so," replied Daran obstinately. " At any 
 rate, it would cover the poor archivist with glory." 
 
 *' Not even that," retorted the young man ; " nobody 
 reads books of that sort. Ah! you want to ruin me, 
 Daran. My notary is coming to conclude a money 
 matter. Behold me the owner of a house." 
 
 " Maitre Allinges ? I know him. A very honest fel- 
 low, but a dreamer like yourself. Come, would it trou- 
 ble you very much to be ruined? " 
 
 " Very much ! " said Tremor, pausing to relight his 
 cigar from Daran's. 
 
 " Let us go on, then, to the second part of my pro- 
 gramme," Daran continued. " It is more easily car- 
 ried into execution. I want you to marry. Oh, I'm 
 not thinking of it to-day for the first time. Hang 
 these selfish bachelors ! " 
 
 " I am going to say to you as I did just now. Why 
 don't you? " 
 
 "Then I shall answer as I did just now; with' me, 
 it is different. I was born an old bachelor, in the same
 
 APRIL'S LADY 49 
 
 way that I was born a collector. I have a lot of little 
 fads to which I cling ; I should bore my wife and, above 
 all, my wife would bore me inexpressibly. But you. 
 . . . ah! you! You have no fads, but you are 
 entirely lacking in the understanding of practical 
 things ; you go along with your nose in the air, at the 
 risk of breaking your neck. What I desire for you is 
 a sensible little brain that will do some thinking for 
 you, and then a gentle little hand, which would cool 
 your forehead when it burned as it does to-day. Oh, 
 I need not touch it. I have told you that my wife 
 would bore me; you would gain infinitely by being 
 bored by yours. It would end in diverting your 
 thoughts and keeping you from trying to fathom some 
 problem that you will never solve. And you would 
 worship your children. How the little chaps jump- 
 ing around your legs and yelling in your ears from 
 morning till night, would drive away your gloomy 
 notions. I can see you now you would take up 
 again Montaigne, Fenelon, Rousseau; you would read 
 all the modern books published on education, and Heaven 
 knows how many they publish! This would amuse you 
 for a . time, and then you would rear your children 
 simply by your paternal heart and brain, and with- 
 out occupying yourself overmuch about pedagogues, 
 you would make men of them, real men ! That would 
 be worth the history of the Hetheens, I assure you." 
 
 Michel had only half listened; his smile was a little 
 sad, a little bored. 
 
 " You are very eloquent," he said. " I can already 
 imagine the rare bird whom you destine for me, the
 
 50 APRIL'S LADY 
 
 sweet and serious companion, the clever woman who is 
 not pedantic, and is gay without being frivolous, etc. 
 I have met that rare bird in all the novels I read when 
 I was very young." 
 
 " I have met her in life, myself, and so have you. 
 The wife of your friend Reault, there I would like 
 a wife for you like Madame Reault. Besides, she has 
 a sister. Marry Mademoiselle Chaze." 
 
 " My dear Albert," said Michel more gravely, " I 
 don't deny that there might be some truth in your lec- 
 ture, though it appears to me open to discussion, but 
 if you knew how little I think of marrying; if you 
 knew the disagreeable impression the mere name you 
 have just uttered produces upon, me, you would give 
 up the match. Ah! these bargains by private contract 
 which are negotiated daily, these introductions, these 
 paltry comedies which constitute marriage in our coun- 
 try ! Ugh ! Won't you come up a moment, since you 
 have accompanied me here? " 
 
 They had turned the corner of the Rue Beaujon, 
 and stopped in front of the house where Michel lived. 
 
 " With pleasure," replied Dararu 
 
 But this diversion did not long change the course of 
 his ideas. 
 
 " I confess it," he soon went on. " If there is a 
 person whom I rarely imagine in the distasteful char- 
 acter of the young man to be married, it really is you. 
 It would be better, I think, if a young girl could be 
 found wfio was sufficiently bold, and sufficiently in love, 
 to pay court to you and ask you in marriage. Yes, 
 then I know you are so kind, so much afraid of causing
 
 APRIL'S LADY 51 
 
 anyone the slightest pain, that when she said to you: 
 ' I love you. Will you marry me ? J you would never 
 have the courage to reply : ' No.' And you would 
 be happy in spite of yourself." 
 
 " Certainly for this young girl, sufficiently bold 
 and sufficiently in love, would be thoroughly bewitching. 
 If you had seen Colette, I should think she had given 
 you your lesson," Tremor continued, opening the door 
 of his smoking room to usher in the tormenting ser- 
 moniser. " She wrote the other day exactly what you 
 are saying now. There, sit down." 
 
 " Madame Fauvel is a sensible woman." 
 
 " Poor Colette," sighed Michel humorously. " That 
 compliment would seem new to her. Will you have 
 cigars or cigarettes ? " 
 
 " A cigar, if you please. And even if this compli- 
 ment were new, if good sense were not habitual with 
 Madame Colette, what if she had suddenly found it, 
 by an inspiration of genius, in her affection for you? 
 Mothers, sisters, or wives, women who love have such 
 inspirations. Does your charming sister propose a 
 fiancee for you ? " 
 
 " Of course." 
 
 " Good ! " cried Daran, lighting his cigar with an 
 air of satisfaction. " Do I know her? " 
 
 This time Michel burst into a very sincere, ringing 
 laugh, which transfigured his whole face. Standing 
 leaning against the chimney-piece, his cigarette in his 
 hand, he seemed at this moment singularly young. 
 
 " Yes, by Jove ! you do know her ! Only I don't 
 know whether you remember her. It is Miss Jackson, a
 
 52 APRIL'S LADY 
 
 distant cousin, my Aunt Regine's granddaughter. Miss 
 Jackson came to Paris a few years ago to study French, 
 and we dined with her, you and I, at my sister's. You 
 were at that time absorbed by your archaeological studies ; 
 you talked all the evening about excavations and an- 
 cient ruins, and it seems that your eloquence put the 
 young lady to sleep." 
 
 Daran laughed heartily. 
 
 " I remember," he said. " A little Anne or Jeanne 
 a blonde whose lovely mouth did not say much, but 
 whose very drooping eyes and very tip-tilted nose were 
 confoundly talkative. Well, this child is extremely 
 pretty. You once had an affair with a precocious 
 jade" 
 
 Without heeding Michel's gesture of impatience, 
 Daran calmly continued: 
 
 " You once had an affair with a precocious jade, and 
 that is what has disgusted you with marriage. Yet, as 
 you are a fine fellow, I have never heard you infer that 
 because one base woman deceived you, the earth might be 
 peopled only with traitresses. Besides, haven't you a 
 delightful sister, perhaps a madcap with a head filled 
 with trifles, but a noble little woman, who would throw 
 herself into the fire for her husband, her children, or 
 you? To have you marry is very simple; it only re- 
 quires that a charming young girl should love you." 
 
 " Very simple," murmured Michel. And he shrugged 
 his shoulders. 
 
 " Very simple, certainly," repeated Daran, shrugging 
 his also. " It is very nice to be modest, but don't let 
 us exaggerate. And then, you are gloomy, you dis-
 
 APRIL'S LADY 53 
 
 trust yourself, you have had trouble, you have the air 
 of a hero of romance. This is what kindles the im- 
 agination of a young girl." 
 
 Tremor had sat down with a feeling of depression. 
 The conversation was becoming painful. 
 
 " It is your own imagination that kindles, and for 
 the impossible, my poor friend," he cried. " No, I am 
 not a hero, but simply a man who does not understand 
 himself very well, and whom others do not understand 
 at all. And it is so stupid to be misunderstood. I be- 
 lieve I was born with a sick heart; someone has under- 
 taken to widen the wound. Now it is healed, but the 
 suffering has terribly changed me. I am not vicious ; 
 the troubles of others grieve me; you are right there. 
 Yet I am violent, jealous, brutal. And also hard to 
 live with, embittered. A hero of romance sometimes has 
 the right to kill, bue never to be in a bad temper. I am 
 often in a bad temper." 
 
 Michel walked up and down the room twice, threw 
 his cigarette into the chimney-piece, and sat down again. 
 
 At the end of a moment, Daran went on : 
 
 " One day you explained to me what a palimpsest is. 
 This insignificant memory has remained with me; you 
 always make me think of a palimpsest. What is seen of 
 you is not what you originally were. It would be nec- 
 essary to be able to read in you another text, another 
 story hidden for a long time by the one you allow 
 everyone to decipher." 
 
 " You well know the story that would be read," said 
 Michel mournfully. 
 
 " Might there not be palimpsests written three times?
 
 54 APRIL'S LADY 
 
 Michel, I wish a very skilful little paleographer would 
 know how to awaken in you, as you are now, not the 
 man whom Faustine Morel made you, but the child you 
 were and whom I knew well; the worker, the enthusiast, 
 the poet, the serious youth, too serious, too shy, perhaps, 
 but so kind, so tender, so trusting; the charming human 
 being whose heart would have opened wide, whose intel- 
 lect would have blossomed superbly, if he could have 
 had the sweet, genuine affection, the calm, industrious 
 life for which he longed. Ah! I assure you, with a 
 little trouble and much love, he could be found, my little 
 friend of former days." 
 
 Michel shook his head. 
 
 " Another illusion," he said. 
 
 He went to a corner of the room, took from an iron- 
 wood shelf a curiously wrought bottle, poured some 
 Madeira into a small glass, and offered it to Daran. 
 
 " That's right," said the other. " It's not my elixir 
 on the contrary." 
 
 Then, as if the pleasure of tasting the very old and 
 fragrant wine had suddenly given him a clearer idea 
 of the harmonious charm of the things which sur- 
 rounded him, he glanced around the room where Michel 
 had received him so many times. 
 
 The warm light which shone through stained glass, 
 mysterious, hieratical, as if it emanated from the illu- 
 minations of a missal or a book of legends, awoke the 
 faded richness of the old brocades and the tarnished 
 gold of frames and plate, enveloped in an atmosphere 
 of the past, sumptuous and quiet, furniture which be- 
 longed to an Italian style of the sixteenth century.
 
 APRIL'S LADY 55 
 
 " It is pretty, very pretty here, my dear Michel ! 
 Stay, that is new, that embroidered chasuble which you 
 have draped yonder, near those daggers. What mar- 
 vellous work ! " cried the collector, rising, his glass in 
 his hand, to examine the gold flowers of the sacerdotal 
 robe. 
 
 Then he rejoined Michel and, standing before him, 
 said: 
 
 " Very pretty, your ivory castle. Not an error of 
 style in the details of this furniture, these little treasures 
 chosen by a connoisseur. And yet, if yonder, in the 
 neck of that amphora, there was a fine branch of lilacs 
 and, farther away, in that cup, some fresh roses, your 
 charming museum would gain something more friendly, 
 more animate. Put some flowers into your life, my 
 dear Michel; it is necessary." 
 
 Daran having gone, Michel went back to Maitre 
 Allinges to sign some papers which were not ready in 
 the morning, and the notary talked with him for a long 
 time of an enterprise in which he himself had just in- 
 vested some capital. 
 
 It was a joint-stock company furnished with a con- 
 siderable capital, which intended to increase the im- 
 portance of French colonies and promote emigration to 
 them by cultivating on a vast scale, and with the aid of 
 agents and French workmen, the agricultural produc- 
 tions or industrial wealth peculiar to the soil and 
 climate. 
 
 " Come, Monsieur Tremor," the notary persisted, 
 " let me secure you thirty shares. You will not regret 
 it, and if you should at any time, I will take them my-
 
 56 APRIL'S LADY 
 
 self; I have confidence. And then, this business is fine, 
 is beneficent. It is not only a profitable business trans- 
 action, but a work of patriotism and humanity." 
 
 And Maitre Allinges dilated copiously on this subject. 
 
 Advantageous or not, certain or risky as to the result, 
 speculation had never attracted Michel. He loved 
 money only for what it bestowed, and financial questions 
 wearied him. 
 
 The fortune which Colette and he had received from 
 their guardian's hands, and that which had come to 
 them later at the death of Monsieur Louis Tremor, was 
 found to be almost exclusively invested in stock of the 
 Metropolitan Bank of Discount. Their father for 
 several years, their uncle during a good quarter of a 
 century, had been members of the board of directors of 
 this important financial establishment and gradually, by 
 the force of circumstances, all their funds became placed 
 in it. 
 
 Colette's husband having the folly, or the wisdom 
 as one takes it to like investments in houses and land, 
 Monsieur and Madame Fauvel had quickly decided to 
 realise on the share which had fallen to them, but 
 Michel, attracted by the advantages of security and 
 peace of mind of a very commonplace investment, the 
 investment of a good father of a family, as Maitre Al- 
 linges said, had prudently kept his. Only two or three 
 times, since the death of his Uncle Louis, had he been per- 
 suaded by the enthusiastic notary, who never stopped 
 proposing profitable things, to sell a certain quantity of 
 stock. Very recently, one of these rare concessions had 
 been for the purpose of the purchase of an unfurnished
 
 APRIL'S LADY 57 
 
 house in the Rue des Belles-Feuilles, which had j ust been 
 completed. 
 
 " You are insatiable, my dear friend," declared 
 Tremor, when Maitre Allinges had finished his account 
 of the " Colonizer." 
 
 But he smiled. If the financial combination upon 
 which the enterprise the notary had just summed up 
 was based could only find him cold or indifferent, the 
 essential idea could not fail to attract him from the 
 moral and political point of view. 
 
 Besides, Tremor, especially to-day, was given to ex- 
 cusing generous extravagances. So he yielded once 
 more, and asked Maitre Allinges to subscribe in his name 
 for thirty shares of the " Colonizer," then leaving the 
 office, he went to Durand-Ruel's to see some drawings 
 by Puvis de Chavannes, returned to the Rue Beau j on, 
 glanced over the evening papers, wrote a letter of recom- 
 mendation for a poor fellow, added some delicately dis- 
 guised assistance, and toward seven o'clock, determined 
 to ask that very evening the hospitality of Jacques 
 Reault, one of his schoolmates, now attached to the 
 Ministry of Foreign Affairs, an intelligent, warm- 
 hearted fellow, to whom he was bound by ties of friend- 
 ship, and who had just married Therese Chaze, a friend 
 of Colette. It was said to be a scarcely prudent love 
 match, for Jacques had not much property, and the for- 
 tune of Therese was one of those dowries that make 
 matchmakers smile. 
 
 In the cab that carried him to the Rue des Ternes, 
 where the newly-wedded couple lived, Michel thought 
 once more of yesterday evening, jeering at himself for
 
 58 APRIL'S LADY 
 
 the artlessness of which he had always given proof, in 
 his relations with Faustine. What illusions did he still 
 retain the evening before concerning this strange woman, 
 who had a head instead of a heart? Cold, impassive, 
 absolute mistress of her moral and her physical being, 
 Faustine knew how to feign the sincerity of regret as 
 well as the sincerity of love. 
 
 " She is terribly virtuous," Adrien Dereux had said. 
 
 Involuntarily Michel thought that this virtue without 
 integrity had indeed become terrible, like this soulless 
 beauty. Poor skilful actress ! Was she reduced to the 
 piteous resignation of the heron of the fable? 
 
 Comte Wronski has died intestate ; I have nothing, or 
 almost nothing; true, I am still beautiful enough to be 
 married without fortune, but disinterestedness is rare in 
 the modern world. What if I should marry Tremor? 
 He is young, and no fool. Perhaps I might make some- 
 thing of him a member of the Institute, who knows ? 
 And it would be easy for me to wheedle him a second 
 time. This Don Quixote, if he has not been turned 
 from me, will believe everything I deign to tell him, 
 if I know how to manage, bring tears into my eyes, 
 make my hand tremble, and pronounce with art that 
 expressive word: the past! 
 
 Yes, certainly Faustine Wronska was a woman to 
 reason in this way. 
 
 And those tearful eyes, that quiver of a hand were the 
 consolation Michel had come to seek. What a pity !
 
 J. HE welcome of Monsieur and Madame Reault was 
 cordial, even affectionate. Michel had forgotten Da- 
 ran's advice and, during the evening, scarcely noticed 
 Simone Chaze, the sister of Therese, a child of sixteen, 
 who sat sewing beneath the lamp, graceful and quiet, 
 with her long lashes lowered, but unconsciously he was 
 imbued by the charm of this little brand new home. He 
 looked with interest at the simple furniture and soft 
 colours to which the light silk shade gave a rose-hued 
 tint; he smiled at Jacques Reault, who seemed so in- 
 genuously proud of his wife, though her sole beauty 
 was immense eyes and the figure of a well-formed 
 Parisian. 
 
 Da ran was right ; flowers embellish and perfume every- 
 thing. There were flowers in the little close room, 
 warm to the heart and the eyes. 
 
 The young man thought sorrowfully of the Reaults' 
 pleasant home when on the following day, by one of 
 the early trains, he reached his hermitage in the tower of 
 Saint-Sylvere. Yet he loved his strange dove-cote, 
 loved it, though he had passed sad hours there, or per- 
 haps on that very account. 
 
 Still standing proudly mournful in its solitude, like 
 the last champion of a lost cause, the old donjon emerged 
 from the shade of a little leafy park, separated from the 
 woods by a fence, in which grew, under the trees and in 
 
 the open air, the grass of the fields and forests, the 
 
 59
 
 60 APRIL'S LADY 
 
 flowering grass that no roller levels and which the sun 
 embalms when the scythes have cut it. 
 
 Colette had often teased Michel about his fancy for 
 climbing plants. " Little creatures that want to rise 
 above the level of everyone else, which mount, mount, 
 mount, always, and when forced to stop before reaching 
 the moon and stars are grieved to the point of awaking 
 in tears every morning. That is what pleases you, oh, 
 most symbolising of brothers." 
 
 And it was a fact that climbing plants abounded in the 
 tower of Saint-Sylvere ; in the summer, the grey walls 
 of the building and the brown trunks of the trees bloomed 
 into an exquisite flowering of honeysuckles, wistaria, 
 jasmines and roses, roses especially, and all day long 
 there was a sleepy concert of bees drunk with pollen. 
 
 But, in the early spring, the rose bushes were scarcely 
 commencing to bud, the wistaria was clinging to the 
 stones with dry stems that seemed sapless, and the tower 
 of Saint-Sylvere appeared to be welcoming only the 
 swallows, because they were building or finding old nests 
 there. 
 
 At the moment of entering the doorway, Michel had 
 seen some of them flying about and pursuing each other 
 against the rosy sky, and he asked himself whether these 
 faithful inhabitants of his roof would never bring him 
 the happiness of which they were said to be the harbin- 
 gers. He was tired of Paris, of the noise, the crowd, 
 and yet the fever of these last days, the phantom of the 
 past which had suddenly appeared in the midst of 
 the commonplaces of the present hour, made his stay 
 in the tower of Saint-Sylvere gloomy.
 
 APRIL'S LADY 61 
 
 The evenings were still cold. Huge logs, piled upon 
 the wrought-iron andirons, were burning, crackling in 
 the chimney piece whose entablature, emblazoned with 
 the arms of the ancient lords of Saint-Sylvere, rose al- 
 most to the top of the walls of the study. The furniture 
 of this apartment, like all that Tremor had collected in 
 the tower of Saint-Sylvere, belonged to an ancient Nor- 
 man style. By the flickering light of the fire the ward- 
 robes, the sideboards, the rudely-carved oak chairs on 
 which sometimes, amid the freaks of an artless and 
 elaborately-wrought decoration, grinned some face of a 
 chimera, seemed to have escaped from a sombre drawing 
 of Gustave Dore; the books and papers heaped upon 
 the shelves in a sacred disorder assumed the appearance 
 of archives ; the very old picture of a White Lady of the 
 time of Queen Ysabeau, evoked the vision of a some- 
 what stiffly-attired chatelaine, who might have come to 
 sit beside the hearth, near the wheel which for centuries 
 had forgotten the delicate touch of a skilful spinner's 
 fingers; the elaborate archaism of the tapestries was 
 oddly emphasised, and still more extravagant appeared 
 on the green background the outlines of animals or 
 heraldic flowers, still more stiff the profiles of figures 
 awkwardly grouped. 
 
 The hands pf the wall clock had stopped; the daily 
 work of the servants kept them on the lower story; 
 neither the ticking of the pendulum, nor the rattling of 
 glasses, nor the sound of footsteps disturbed the sudden, 
 fantastic life of these familiar things. Michel fancied 
 he heard the slow work of the worms in the ancient furni- 
 ture.
 
 62 APRIL'S LADY 
 
 The young man absently read a new novel he had 
 bought in passing through the station, and felt himself 
 alone, alone to the point of wondering why he had never 
 had a dog, whose faithful gaze, full of the great mystery 
 of incomplete or unfinished souls, would have sometimes 
 sought his own. 
 
 His whole mind turned toward a change of horizon. 
 He was tempted to cheat his impatience, to fly, to find 
 at Cannes the charming affection of Colette, the cordial 
 welcome of his brother-in-law, the caresses of his niece 
 and nephew, but he was afraid of meeting Paris on the 
 shores of the Mediterranean. 
 
 Michel did not remember having experienced at any 
 period of his life such a feeling of desertion. After his 
 rupture with Faustine, he had deadened his despair in 
 a feverish life, then he had travelled, discovered in the 
 actual sight of the countries to which his mind had often 
 wandered, enjoyment which the persistent feeling of 
 the recent deception could not stifle. Now he was tired 
 of these nomad habits ; the world which he had not wholly 
 traversed seemed to him so small and so little varied. 
 
 Then, as the proverb artlessly says, " Misery loves 
 company." It is rare that in the midst of a great sor- 
 row we feel too much alone. To Michel the great sorrow 
 had gradually lessened. When it wholly vanished, noth- 
 ing replaced it in the heart which it had occupied so 
 long. And lo ! even the charm of the past disappeared 
 like the rest. And nothing had palliated the bitterness 
 of this last disenchantment. - 
 
 There remained the possible hope of the joys of work, 
 a work to which we devote ourselves. But if labour is
 
 APRIL'S LADY G3 
 
 not stimulated by the necessity for securing the daily 
 bread, it must be by the desire to satisfy an ambition, 
 to realise an ideal of beauty, or to attain a useful end. 
 Now Michel had doubts concerning his right to execute 
 the work he had elaborated. Did his history of the 
 Hetheens deserve to be written as he had conceived it 
 from the documents which he had collected, a people 
 whose mysterious fate had attracted his imagination, and 
 whose traces he had patiently sought amid the dust of 
 a vanished world, pursuing them through Egypt, 
 Syria, Occidental Asia, finding them again in Europe 
 confounded with those of the famous and obscure 
 Pelasgians, who glide like vague shadows through the 
 midst of the most ancient memories ? 
 
 To write articles for newspapers and magazines, or a 
 novel, is only to aspire to amuse for a moment a few idle 
 people after having entertained one's self; to write a 
 book which deserves the name, and especially a history, 
 is to declare one's self capable of contributing in a cer- 
 tain degree to the edification of human knowledge from 
 the standpoint of facts or their interpretation. Such 
 was the positive theory of Michel and, as his solitary 
 life had somewhat warped or overheated his ideas, he 
 saw in such a desire an unduly presumptuous pride, in- 
 stead of admiring in it the effort of a great courage 
 which may be humble. 
 
 An agreeable woman of the eighteenth century has said 
 that modesty is a languor of the mind. There might 
 be some danger in taking this thought as a general truth ; 
 it would be favouring vanity with one pretext more ; yet 
 it is certain that an exaggerated self-distrust checks or
 
 64 APRIL'S LADY 
 
 chills every enthusiastic dash toward an ideal goal and 
 often causes people to believe themselves incapable of 
 bringing to a satisfactory end any given task, because 
 they unconsciously dread having to put forth the amount 
 of effort that would be required not only for its accom- 
 plishment, but even the attempt. 
 
 Tremor, however, felt that a calm and stable existence 
 might have invited him to make the trial, but though 
 he should no longer find the gratification of former days 
 in distant peregrinations, he did not know how to resolve 
 to give them up. 
 
 On this evening of peevish meditation, Daran's ob- 
 jurgations returned to his memory. 
 
 He had desired this charming life with a tenderly be- 
 loved woman and because he had longed for it too much, 
 because he had once been deceived, he forbade himself 
 to hope, fearing to encounter the parody after having 
 created the ideal. 
 
 His ardent youth had dreamed of a love very pas- 
 sionate and very pure and yet, with all his sentimental 
 life, his luckless love for Faustine was the only one which 
 would have corresponded with this dream, as Faustine 
 was the only woman whose image he could again evoke 
 without awakening in himself the sadness or the disgust 
 of delusive memories. When he was ignorant of life, 
 falsehood, vanity, he had loved this young girl because 
 she was beautiful and he believed her to be good and sin- 
 cere, and yet it was from her that he had received the 
 harsh lesson. She had sacrificed the man who loved her 
 to the meanest of passions ; she had revealed to him the 
 savage sharpness of selfish calculations and, brutally,
 
 APRIL'S LADY 65 
 
 having nothing more to make out of his love and his 
 credulity, had cast him off into life. 
 
 It was not in Michel Tremor's nature to fall into the 
 exaggerations of pessimism, besides, he had guarded 
 himself from too hasty generalisations and had left to 
 Faustine the whole responsibility for her duplicity and 
 treachery ; only he had thought that certain accidents 
 destroy an existence as others save it, and he was in 
 despair over having been born under so unlucky a star. 
 Perhaps ever ready for self-distrust he had told 
 himself that the misfortune might be partly his own 
 fault because, in order to win love, we must be lovable. 
 And he felt that all passion was dead in his heart. The 
 man whom he had become could no longer be enamoured 
 of anything except the beautiful in art and nature, the 
 good in life ; he would never love again. 
 
 The worms continued their hidden work, and the fire 
 died down. The forms of the warriors on the tapestry, 
 and the fixed smile of the chatelaine, no longer appeared 
 except when the flames flashed up. 
 
 Michel thought of the Reaults' pretty home, the quiet 
 intimacy which constituted its charm, the children who 
 would some day gladden it, and he envied the life which 
 began in this peace and sweetness. 
 
 Children! He had always worshipped children, and 
 always been worshipped by them. Ah! how he would 
 have devoted his whole heart and mind to the task of 
 rearing those who would have been flesh of his flesh. 
 For their sakes how much better he would have made 
 himself, more indulgent, more active in combating the 
 violent impulses of a nature whose unity had been
 
 66 APRIL'S LADY 
 
 changed by too long periods of isolation ! With what 
 solicitude he would have watched them, encouraging 
 them to be open-hearted, inviting their confidence, ac- 
 customing them to absolute trust, and using this trust 
 to develop in their souls all the powers of loving, every 
 generous feeling, to cultivate their growing intelligence. 
 He would have answered their questions with unfailing 
 patience; he would have taught them himself, but he 
 would have encouraged their sports in the open air, their 
 happy merry laughs, their desire for movement and 
 noise. And he would have loved them dearly; their 
 kisses, their careless joy would have brightened the 
 dark hours. Michel laughed at himself for a great gush 
 of instinctive tenderness which rose from his heart for 
 these shadows of his reverie. 
 
 For an instant the idea crossed his mind of adopting 
 a child, one of the sons of a friend who had no fortune. 
 But what would be the use? Never would he, the bene- 
 factor, the improvised father, reign over the heart of 
 this child ; never would he feel himself the master of this 
 existence which he would not have created, which would 
 belong to him only by virtue of a human contract. And 
 in anticipation, jealousy murmured within him. 
 
 Another weakness of his suffering and imperfect na- 
 ture! He was jealous; the " green-eyed monster" had 
 often tortured him. Through association of ideas, 
 Michel remembered the far-off time when he had de- 
 voured the tears which only pride prevented his shedding, 
 because Colette had said to a girl friend, " I love you as 
 much as I do my brother." He recalled the days that 
 had preceded and followed Faustine's marriage, the de-
 
 APRIL'S LADY 67 
 
 spair, the fits of rage, the longing to murder which ex- 
 cited him to frenzy. 
 
 He thought, " I was made to suffer and to cause suf- 
 ering. It is better that I should have lived alone." 
 
 Before going into the summer-house which she oc- 
 cupied, Jacotte, the gardener's wife, who filled the posi- 
 tion of cook, came to offer Michel a cup of lime-flower 
 tea. At first he refused, then he allowed her to give 
 him the fragrant infusion, and mechanically stirring it 
 with the little silver spoon, he asked a few questions, en- 
 quired for her old mother who kept a tavern in Rivailler ; 
 her son, who had gone away to school in the autumn. 
 He needed to talk, to hear some voice. And Jacotte, 
 who was loquacious, not confining herself to answers, 
 told interminable stories, in which the rabbits, the 
 chickens, the garden, and Tristan, Michel's horse, played 
 an important part. Her tone, in speaking of everything 
 that lived and grew at the tower of Saint-Sylvere, was 
 something like the one she used in saying, " My son." 
 
 " Good night and pleasant dreams, sir," she concluded, 
 going away with a vigorous tread that made the tea- 
 pot and the china cup rattle on the waiter. 
 
 The young man went to sleep in his big, old-fashioned 
 bed. By a resemblance that amused him, the worthy 
 woman's- cordial chatter had suddenly reminded him of 
 his friend Albert's flowing speeches. 
 
 Every year Daran hired a little house at Rivailler. 
 Michel thought that the good fellow would soon be there, 
 and he suddenly felt a serene joy. 
 
 The next morning, roused by a sunbeam which shone 
 through the leaden-cased frames, he made some heroic
 
 68 APRIL'S LADY 
 
 resolutions. He threw the windows wide open, admitted 
 to his study the light and fragrance of the outside world, 
 then he outlined the formidable classification of the 
 documents which he had collected for his Essay of a 
 History of the Hetheens. But, towards evening, several 
 letters were brought in, one of which caused him positive 
 bewilderment, followed by sharp displeasure. 
 
 Written in an unknown feminine hand, it was dated 
 thus ; Precroix, April 2nd, 190 , and couched in the 
 following terms : 
 
 " Sir: 
 
 " Your letter of yesterday has greatly astonished me. 
 We know each other so slightly ! Yet it is true that 
 we were not born to remain strangers to each other and, 
 from what I know of you, your character, and what I 
 have seen of society in your country, I should be very 
 ungracious if I were not flattered by your offer and the 
 sacrifice you are making of your national prejudices. 
 Even admitting that this particular case presents some 
 extenuating circumstances in my favour, I am not 
 ignorant that a Frenchman of your world gives proof 
 of a certain degree of courage in marrying a governess 
 whom this circle has known in this position. 
 
 " Perhaps I ought to ask you to allow me time for 
 reflection, perhaps you will find in my prompt and almost 
 final reply a lack of reserve, of feminine dignity. Yet 
 you have understood that I am a little unlike your 
 countrywomen since, neglecting to apply to Madame 
 Bethune's intervention, you have addressed yourself 
 directly to me. So I will act with as much frankness
 
 APRIL'S LADY 69 
 
 and plainness as you yourself have done. I will accept 
 your proposal to be your wife. 
 
 " And now, my dear Michel it is perfectly natural 
 that I should call you so, is it not? it seems to me 
 that I should have a thousand things to say to you, about 
 yourself, myself, your lovely sister. Just think, I sus- 
 pected nothing, nothing at all! How well you have 
 hidden your game! 
 
 " But your letter is dated from Paris, and I do not 
 know 1 whether you have since returned to the tower of 
 Saint-Sylvere, to which I am addressing mine. As soon 
 as you arrive, come to Precroix, I beg you, and we will 
 talk together. Only then shall I be able to consider you 
 quite my engaged husband. 
 
 " I know that French good breeding is very ceremo- 
 nious, but I do not fully grasp its formulas, so please 
 receive with indulgence the expression of my kindest 
 regards. 
 
 "S. SEVERN." 
 
 Michel almost asked himself if he were not the sport 
 of an illusion caused by the obsession of the counsels of 
 Daran and the plans of Colette. 
 
 Chateau de Precroix a foreigner, a teacher the 
 Bethunes' teacher S. Severn 
 
 " Sarah ! " he cried, " Miss Sarah ! The governess, 
 that sentimental old maid! Who could have plotted 
 this stupid joke and written such a letter? " 
 
 But he reread the letter carefully and since it was 
 written simply, in good French, without any romantic 
 affectation, he might conclude that it was not to be at-
 
 70 APRIL'S LADY 
 
 tributed to a hoaxer, who would not have failed to insert 
 the most sentimental tirades, to accumulate the most 
 poetical epithets, and to scatter through it the most 
 grotesque Anglicisms. The tone, on the contrary, was 
 frank, serious, sensible. A letter of this sort had been 
 written without the slightest intention of being droll; 
 nay, even when thinking of the old maid's age and 
 absurdities, the " we were not born to remain strangers 
 to each other," a delicate reminiscence of the theory of 
 sister souls, the fear expressed of seeming over bold, the 
 allusions to a very doubtful youth which artlessly apolo- 
 gised for not taking alarm, the somewhat unduly prompt 
 " my dear Michel," scarcely provoked a smile. 
 
 As for the deliciously candid " I suspected nothing at 
 all ; how well you have hidden your game ! " the hoaxer 
 would have replaced by a phrase of this sort, " I scarcely 
 dared to believe myself loved ! " or, " I forbade myself 
 to see in your attentions anything save compassion," a 
 reminder of the somewhat tiresome teasing in which 
 Madame Bethune and her son had found pleasure the 
 year before, after the evening when Michel, sympathising 
 with the solitary, had sat down beside Miss Sarah, and 
 talked with her agreeably about the pleasant weather and 
 education in America. 
 
 After reflection, doubt was difficult. The letter which 
 had just reached the tower of Saint-Sylvere was really 
 the result of a bad joke, but it could not be the direct 
 work of a spiteful wag. The poor governess had writ- 
 ten it herself in her best and clearest style; she had 
 answered without suspicion an offer which she had
 
 APRIL'S LADY 71 
 
 actually received. While Michel was recalling the old 
 teasing of his friends at Precroix, he also remembered the 
 more recent mischievous plans of Claude. Delighted 
 with his practical jokes upon the usher who was to be 
 humbugged, and knowing that Michel's handwriting 
 was easily imitated, the student had thought it amusing 
 to extend the field of his operations and to address an 
 " April Fool " to poor Miss Sarah, who had taken the 
 matter seriously and read the amazing missive without 
 noticing the fatal date. 
 
 Offended at having been mixed up in this ridiculous 
 business, and full of pity for the unfortunate woman 
 whom Claude's thoughtless trick affected more closely 
 than it did himself, Michel was on the point of going 
 to Precroix, giving Madame Bethune the letter he had 
 just received, and informing against the future college 
 graduate. Then he considered that Madame Bethune 
 would tell her husband and the latter who, when carried 
 away by anger, measured neither his words nor his acts, 
 might perhaps inflict upon Claude too harsh, and espe- 
 cially too brutal a punishment. The wisest and most 
 humane plan was to lecture Claude privately, telling him 
 to address a letter of explanation and apology to Miss 
 Sarah. Michel decided ttf write to his young friend the 
 next morning; Bethune, who was going to Chantilly, 
 would know nothing about the matter, and the incident 
 would close without too much injury. 
 
 For an instant Michel amused himself at the thought 
 of how Daran and Colette would have looked on re- 
 ceiving the triumphant news of his engagement to Miss
 
 72 APRIL'S LADY 
 
 Sarah! Then he forgot Claude and his mischievous 
 trick, went down into the little park, walked under the 
 trees, breathed the air of the woods, and found pleasure 
 in noting the growth of his precious plants which 
 were trying to " mount to the stars."
 
 IrJ. ICHEL of course gave up the plan formed the 
 night before of going to Precroix. On no account 
 would he have risked finding himself in close quarters 
 with his happy and timid fiancee. The bare thought of 
 the significant smile with which she would not have failed 
 to greet him, made him shudder. 
 
 Strolling across the country he went to Rivailler, 
 where he had to inspect a cottage which Jacques Reault 
 wanted for the summer months. 
 
 The various entertainments in honour of the patron 
 saint crowded the village. Michel took in his way the 
 harness maker Camus, owner of the Villa des Saules, and 
 explained the object of his visit. The cunning peasant, 
 aided by his still more crafty wife, wasted in circum- 
 locution, prudent withdrawals, and propositions more 
 prudent still, ten full minutes of a quarter of an hour's 
 conversation, but an understanding was finally reached, 
 and Michel, leaving him, inhaled the outdoor air with 
 delight. On both sides of the main street people were 
 standing in front of booths ornamented with various 
 glass trinkets. On the square the festival was in full 
 swing. Deafened by the music of the wooden horses, 
 the cries of the pedlars, the firing, Tremor patiently 
 worked his way through the crowd. Before a pastry 
 cook's shop, half a dozen little ones with dirty faces 
 and ragged clothes were looking enviously at the 
 
 73
 
 74 APRIL'S LADY 
 
 macaroons which the luckier children of a Rivailler 
 farmer were winning at every shot, and instantly crunch- 
 ing. 
 
 The young man felt sorry for these juvenile outcasts 
 of the festival. One, the tallest, was explaining how 
 the machine worked, and that a needle showed the number 
 of macaroons won. He had eaten them himself, twice, 
 and he knew they " smelt of almonds " and " melt in 
 your stomach." The others listened wondering, with 
 their fingers in their mouths. 
 
 " Poor little chaps ! " thought Michel, and went up 
 to them. 
 
 " Come," said he, " each of you shoot three times ; 
 gently, without fighting," he added to moderate the en- 
 thusiasm which was already appearing. 
 
 The young savages had no idea of thanking their 
 benefactor. Yet the tall one who so well understood 
 the mechanism of lotteries and the taste of macaroons 
 had remained behind. Standing bolt upright before 
 Tremor he took off his woollen cap, and with sparkling 
 eyes, exclaimed boldly : 
 
 " Well, you're a good kind of a swell, after all." 
 And off he went to join the others. 
 
 While Michel, amused by the comph'ment, was paying 
 for the eighteen shots, someone touched him on the 
 shoulder with the handle of a sunshade. 
 
 " Well, young man ! So you are treating the chil- 
 dren? I thought you were in Paris," said a voice 
 marked by a very characteristic American accent. 
 
 Michel turned and saw a tall, fair young woman. 
 Radiant with blooming strength in her spring costume,
 
 APRIL'S LADY 75 
 
 she led by the hand two little girls, healthy and smil- 
 ing like herself. 
 
 On the other side of the street a group of society folk 
 were practising the cross-bow amid laughter and ex- 
 clamations. Tremor would never have thought that so 
 numerous and fashionable a party could have been as- 
 sembled at Rivailler the first of April. May Bethune 
 would have invented social relations in the Sahara, and 
 transformed into flirts the rocks of the Cordilleras. 
 
 Bethune had married her for her large dowry, and 
 no one had ever exactly understood why she had wedded 
 Bethune. He struggled on the Bourse to make money, 
 she in society for success, and they met so rarely that 
 they agreed wonderfully well. 
 
 May delighted in finery, gossip, and extravagance, 
 but her frankness, her gaiety, her naturalness, pleased 
 Michel who, while regretting that Colette, already so 
 superficial, was so intimate with the most foolish and 
 frivolous of women, was a very sincere friend of the 
 beautiful American. 
 
 " I have just arrived, dear Madame," said Michel in 
 reply to the little reproach tacitly implied. 
 
 And having pressed the hand extended to him, he 
 kissed the little girls. 
 
 " You must tell me a story," said Maud. 
 
 " And you must draw me a wolf," said Claire. 
 
 " Two stories and two wolves," promised Tremor, 
 laughing. 
 
 Then, addressing the mother: 
 
 " I have heard through Colette that you are under- 
 taking enormous improvements at Precroix."
 
 76 APRIL'S LADY 
 
 Placing her tortoise-shell folding eyeglass on her 
 nose, May Bethune surveyed the young man a moment, 
 with a significant smile upon her lips. 
 
 " And I," she retorted in a low tone, " have learned 
 through someone else a very surprising bit of news." 
 
 Michel, astonished, questioned her with his eyes. 
 
 " So, with you, we must always anticipate the un- 
 expected," she went on. " You are a man of surprises. 
 Still I don't exactly understand this American style of 
 betrothal. Colette is delighted, isn't she ? " 
 
 She spoke with her usual volubility, yet a very slight 
 pause suddenly permitted her to notice the bewilderment 
 on Tremor's face, and she interrupted herself. 
 
 " The news was told me under the seal of secrecy ; 
 your letter was not shown me; don't be troubled; I 
 haven't mentioned it to a living soul," she said gaily. 
 
 Then pointing to her flying squadron : 
 
 " Go and tell her some implied compliment," she said ; 
 " it will be a great charm in this crowd." 
 
 " But, Madame " Michel tried to protest. 
 
 " Go, go, I won't keep you. Susy, Susy " 
 
 At the name a young girl turned and took several 
 steps away from the group of archers. Michel saw a 
 flushed, smiling face, prettily framed in the very high 
 collar of a cloth cape, and recognised the bicyclist of the 
 Green Sepulchre. 
 
 Very femininely attired this time in a black velvet 
 toque and a light grey dress, the long folds of whose 
 skirt fell softly to her ankles, she seemed to Michel less 
 childish, taller, and much prettier than in the masculine 
 sporting costume. Almost instantly the young girl met
 
 APRIL'S LADY 77 
 
 the gaze of her last week's guide, and a very fleeting 
 blush crimsoned her complexion. 
 
 As for Michel, the most detestable image would have 
 terrified him less than this juvenile apparition. For an 
 instant he was bewildered. Was Claude's victim, the 
 April Fool fiancee, this young girl? What could he 
 say? What could he do? How was he to disclose to 
 this poor child in a public place, the absurd plot whose 
 sport she had become ? At last, feeling that he must say 
 something, no matter how foolish, Michel managed to 
 utter in an almost natural tone this phrase alluding to 
 the adventure at the Green Sepulchre, without either con- 
 firming or denying the assertions of Madame Bethune. 
 
 " You have not yet had any news from the knight, 
 Mademoiselle? " 
 
 The smile in the young girl's eyes spread joyously over 
 her whole face. 
 
 " Why, yes," she replied, looking frankly at Michel, 
 while little Maud rushed at her and with a shout of 
 laughter threw both arms around her waist. 
 
 Madame Bethune had come up. 
 
 " You will be expected at Precroix to-morrow morning, 
 Mr. Savage ! " 
 
 Michel answered by a mechanical smile which might in 
 case of necessity pass for acquiescence, then saying that 
 he must write an important letter before mail time, made 
 his escape. 
 
 He returned home in a state of mental confusion im- 
 possible to describe, but he had no time to devote to con- 
 jectures concerning the new and disastrous complications 
 of Claude's mischievousness. A letter from Colette
 
 78 APRIL'S LADY 
 
 awaited him which gave the clue to the enigma in a tone 
 whose delight exasperated his distress. 
 
 " Brother dear, you are a naughty sly boots ! Your 
 adventure at the Green Sepulchre is delicious! But do 
 you know through whom I heard of it to-day, and who 
 was the heroine? Really, I can scarcely believe that 
 you have both changed sufficiently not to recognise each 
 other. I am wondering whether without knowing it, 
 you two were not playing the same game, since when she 
 at last discovered your name, the little maid would not 
 tell you her own. Certainly I could desire no prettier 
 frame to my brother's interview with my little Zanne, 
 and it would now appear frightfully commonplace to 
 present Monsieur Michel Tremor to Miss Suzanne Sev- 
 ern-Jackson (Severn is the name of her adopted father) 
 in an ordinary drawing-room. 
 
 " Poor little girl ! I was very glad to see by her letter 
 that she is at Precroix with May Bethune, who spoils and 
 pets her as I would myself. I am almost horrid enough 
 to congratulate myself that Miss Stevens should have 
 been ill enough to have a secretary become useless and a 
 nurse necessary. All these things were to happen. Miss 
 Sarah had to irritate May all winter and Miss Stevens 
 take to her bed in the spring for my gentle cousin, 
 Maud and Claire's governess, to meet one rainy day, in 
 the woods of Rivailler, the lord of the dove-cot of Saint- 
 Sylvere ? 
 
 " Write to me soon ; I am in a hurry to learn through 
 you the romance of the Green Sepulchre. 
 
 " Robert thinks we shall leave Cannes towards the 
 18th of this month and reach Castelflore before the first
 
 APRIL'S LADY 79 
 
 of May just at the time, alas ! when the Bethunes will 
 go to Florence and my brother will bury himself in the 
 fogs of the fiords, to return to us in the guise of a Scald, 
 or still worse, an Ibsen thinker! Wicked savage, but I 
 love you all the same. 
 
 " YOUR COLETTE." 
 
 Michel folded the letter in four pieces, tore it up and 
 tossed the scraps into the fireplace. The Bethunes' gov- 
 erness was no longer Miss Sarah, but Miss Severn, and 
 Miss Severn was the bicyclist of the Green Sepulchre, 
 the granddaughter of Aunt Regine, the young cousin 
 whom Colette still called by her childhood name, little 
 Zanne who, at fifteen, fell asleep so peacefully at des- 
 sert. It really did seem as if trivial incidents had com- 
 bined to lead to the same result, but Michel was far 
 from facing the effect of so many causes with the same 
 serenity as his sister. A fatality had led him into the 
 snare the question was to escape from it. 
 
 Though enlightening one obscure point, Colette's 
 letter gave the young man no aid in unravelling to his 
 own satisfaction a ridiculous situation. The plan of 
 writing to Claude became impracticable. The mission 
 of undeceiving the principal victim of the imprudent jest 
 was now of too delicate a nature for it to be wise to 
 entrust it to the culprit. The most sensible plan was 
 still to tell Madame Bethune everything and leave it to 
 her woman's tact. 
 
 All his compassion centred around the little stranger 
 cousin. Simply, without hesitation, she had deigned to 
 bestow her beautiful youth upon the man by whom she
 
 80 APRIL'S LADY 
 
 believed herself beloved, and he was going to say 
 brutally : " You accept me, who am gloomy, disagree- 
 able, disgusted with a number of things; but I refuse 
 you, who are the embodiment of beauty, hope, and joy." 
 
 Poor child! She had already suffered, deprived suc- 
 cessively of her relatives, her grandmother, her uncle, all 
 the natural protectors of her weakness and inexperience ; 
 but at twenty we rarely lose confidence in life, fear it, or 
 do not expect from it some delicious surprise. And 
 undoubtedly, little Zanne was smiling at the future, not 
 imagining that any one could ever answer with a stern 
 glance that glowing smile. Michel would change this 
 happy confidence to shame, and flying from her be- 
 trothed husband of a day, perhaps the poor little gov- 
 erness might leave the kindly household where she had 
 been welcomed. Master Claude's jest was becoming a 
 tragedy. 
 
 Michel again took up Miss Severn's letter. 
 
 No, surely Michel Tremor and Regine Brook's grand- 
 daughter were not born to remain strangers to each 
 other, and it would have been quite natural that this 
 big cousin should become the support of the poor little 
 relative who was alone in the wide world. 
 
 Suzanne was pleased because Michel forgot that she 
 had earned her living, or did not blush for it as many 
 others would have done. She was surprised that he had 
 hidden his game so well. She thought he had taken 
 pleasure in feigning ignorance. In truth, if Michel had 
 not recognised his cousin that day, would he have ad- 
 dressed to her a short time after an offer of marriage? 
 
 At the end of her letter, wearied of the word " Mon-
 
 APRIL'S LADY 81 
 
 sieur," she said, " My dear Michel " to her grand- 
 mother's nephew. 
 
 Finally, as if some fear had embarrassed her lest she 
 might have appeared too unlike young French girls, 
 she sought a very correct formula in closing. 
 
 Michel laughed at himself for having attributed to 
 Miss Sarah this thoroughly juvenile letter. He accused 
 himself, he accused Claude, he even accused Colette, who 
 must have transformed her brother into a paladin to pre- 
 sent to Suzanne's imagination. 
 
 Then his thoughts wandered into another course. 
 Miss Severn, alone, poor or nearly so, sought for a 
 fortune and a position in society; she had grasped her 
 first opportunity. In this case the young girl's humilia- 
 tion had no reason to sadden Mademoiselle Morel's 
 former lover ; on the contrary, it avenged him. Michel 
 even tried to take pleasure in this idea ; but it was in 
 absolute contradiction to the generosity of his nature, 
 and he abandoned it to laugh very bitterly at the fool- 
 ish figure he was going to cut the next day in the pres- 
 ence of Madame Bethune. 
 
 Just as he left the table Albert Daran dropped from 
 the skies, and he uttered a sigh of relief. Dragging the 
 newcomer into his tapestried chamber, he mournfully 
 told him the strange story, but its effect was unexpected. 
 Daran roared with laughter till he was out of breath. 
 
 " Capital," he cried, " we agreed that the part of a 
 * marrying man ' would not suit you, and wished that 
 some charming girl might save you the vexations of too 
 long a courtship and the doubts which precede an offer 
 of marriage Here she is ! "
 
 82 APRIL'S LADY 
 
 At his friend's outburst of mirth, Tremor bit his 
 lips. 
 
 " I don't feel in the mood for jesting," he said coldly. 
 " I am annoyed, harassed by an absurd story ; I told you 
 to obtain advice. Since you can give me only sarcasms, 
 let us drop the subject. How long do you expect to 
 stay at Rivailler? " 
 
 " A week," replied the collector quietly. Then, after 
 a pause, he said suddenly : 
 
 " Why don't you marry this young girl? " 
 
 " Why ? " repeated Michel, thoroughly excited. 
 " Why, upon my word, you are crazy. Did I ever mean 
 to marry? And if I did, should I be fool enough to 
 marry a girl I scarcely know, and whom I do not love ! " 
 
 " Whom you do not love with the emotions of a Ruy 
 Bias or an Antony, but " 
 
 " Whom I simply do not love," interrupted Michel. 
 
 " But," Daran went on with the same composure, " I 
 don't see that it is indispensable to love so passionately 
 the woman we marry. Very sensible marriages occur 
 every day in which love crazes no one. They are often 
 the happiest." 
 
 " Money matches ! " 
 
 " Not at all. There are some men who marry to have 
 a pleasant home and children. If Miss Severn is agree- 
 able, intelligent, passably pretty, and in good health, 
 I repeat I do not see why you shouldn't marry her." 
 
 Seated in an armchair, Michel was drumming on the 
 oak wainscoting without looking at Daran. Suddenly 
 he turned, laughing bitterly. 
 
 " Michel or The Bridegroom in spite of Himself! A
 
 APRIL'S LADY 83 
 
 bad Scribe vaudeville! Do you know what I am going 
 to do? I shall leave to-morrow and write from the 
 North Cape to Madame Bethune to disentangle her son's 
 prank ! You are certainly unique. If there was advice 
 which I did not expect from you or anyone else, I con- 
 fess that it was to endorse the responsibility of an ab- 
 surd letter written in my name by an ill-bred student, 
 and to marry any girl in consequence of an April Fool 
 joke." 
 
 " It is not, any young girl," objected Daran. " It is 
 your cousin and the wife your sister intended for you. 
 As for that little scamp, Claude's, letter, it could not be 
 so badly composed, since it was taken seriously." 
 
 " You will make out that I shall be under obligations 
 to Claude." 
 
 " Quite possible, my dear fellow." 
 
 " At any rate you will admit that I am the only conv- 
 petent judge of the affair? " 
 
 " Oh ! absolutely," replied Daran. " Have you heard 
 from Monsieur Fauvel? " 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " Good news? " 
 
 " Excellent." 
 
 " His laryngitis ? " 
 
 " Completely cured." 
 
 " So much the better! A lawyer ought not to be 
 troubled with his larynx ! " 
 
 The conversation continued in this vein of agreeable 
 commonplaces, then, after a silence, Michel resumed : 
 
 " Don't you understand that I should show monstrous 
 selfishness in marrying this young girl? Ah! if I were
 
 84 APRIL'S LADY 
 
 twenty ! Perhaps then I should lull myself with charm- 
 ing illusions, perhaps I might say to myself, 4 She is 
 pretty, attractive, shall I love her? ' But I am thirty; 
 I know life and, above all, myself. A clear complexion 
 and beautiful eyes are not enough to turn my head. 
 I do not love this child ; admitting that, in the future, a 
 sincere affection might bind me to her, I know that she 
 would never inspire a profound, ardent love; I know 
 that never, through me, would she obtain the devotion 
 she desires, that she has a right to desire, that she doubt- 
 less expects from me." 
 
 As Daran gently shrugged his shoulders, the young 
 man went on: 
 
 " Do me the favour to believe that I do not consider 
 myself irresistible! But it is said that the race of ro- 
 mantic young girls has not yet vanished from this 
 world. Remember the circumstances in which Miss 
 Severn and I met, the hour passed beside the tomb of 
 the knight who died for love and the name she wrote 
 on the wall to obey the legend. Poor little thing ! She 
 thought I resembled the knight. And three days after 
 the commencement of this chapter from George Sand 
 or Feuillet " 
 
 " Plus the bicycle." 
 
 " She receives Claude's letter ! She must have in- 
 stantly gathered in her obliging memory a hundred 
 false examples with which to build a romance and per- 
 suade herself that she was tenderly beloved. The thun- 
 derbolt! Just think of it! If the hero was unworthy 
 of the poem, never mind ! You will see that, thanks to 
 the extravagant stories of Colette, and the tale of the
 
 APRIL'S LADY 85 
 
 knight, this child has performed the miracle of trans- 
 forming me into a hero of romance, as you said the 
 other day ' 
 
 " Highly probable, certainly," assented Daran, light- 
 ing a cigarette ; " only I don't see what harm this meta- 
 morphosis if metamorphosis there is could do." 
 
 '* Yet it is perfectly clear. Proud of being adored 
 by a legendary personage, the poor girl would suddenly 
 open her eyes wider and find herself in the presence of an 
 ordinary man who married her from idleness, to put an 
 end to the thing, as we say. What a deception! If 
 I thought seriously of marrying Suzanne Severn, I 
 should wish her to know what I have told you." 
 
 " There's nothing easier," replied Albert ; " you could 
 tell her." 
 
 " Yes, perhaps so. Then she would answer : ' You 
 are not the man I expected ; good-bye.' " 
 
 Daran had mechanically picked up a magazine, and 
 was turning its leaves without reading it. 
 
 " If I were you," he said, " I shouldn't go out of my 
 way to look for trouble I should let myself be at- 
 tracted by the charm of this delightful romance. Per- 
 haps by dint of persuading myself that I was a very 
 presentable Feuillet hero, I might some day become one. 
 It is faith that saves us. At any rate, I should be very 
 much flattered to be regarded as such by beautiful eyes. 
 The * Romance of a rich young man ' is less poetic 
 than " 
 
 " You are mistaken," replied Michel. " It would be 
 very natural for Miss Severn to have the feelings I de- 
 scribed and this without my having the least reason
 
 86 APRIL'S LADY 
 
 to brag of it, since, under the same circumstances, any 
 other man would have aroused them as much as I. Yet 
 if she admitted or allowed me to divine them, I might not 
 be able to believe in their sincerity; I might possibly 
 regard it as a farce. The poor young girl who trades 
 in her life, and pretends to love because she has not the 
 courage of her act in the presence of the man whom she 
 is to marry ah, that is no new thing to me, unfortu- 
 nately." 
 
 This time Daran laid down the magazine, and turning 
 his chair to see Michel more distinctly, said : 
 
 " What is it you want ? You detest money matches, 
 but you don't believe in the good faith of poor young 
 girls; you don't understand marriages of convenience, 
 but you would be afraid to be married through romantic 
 impulse; you esteem only love marriages, but you vow 
 never to love your wife ; you scorn young girls who wed 
 from calculation, but you say that if anyone should 
 show love for you, you would not believe her sincere. 
 What do you want? " 
 
 " I don't want to marry, that is all. And I should 
 have wished that my name might not be mixed up in a 
 ridiculous story. You may be sure that I don't mean to 
 sacrifice my liberty to an April Fool joke of Claude 
 Bethune." 
 
 " It is certain," replied Daran in a conciliatory tone, 
 " that you are not responsible for young Bethune's fol- 
 lies, nor for Miss Severn's heedlessness in not noticing 
 the date of the letters she receives. You will explain 
 the situation very delicately to Madame Bethune, who 
 will tell Miss Severn again very delicately that if
 
 APRIL'S LADY 87 
 
 you felt the slightest inclination to marry, you would 
 have been rejoiced to devote yourself to her happiness, 
 but that Really, you are quite right, it is nothing but 
 a vaudeville scenario ! " 
 
 " Oh ! you call it a vaudeville scenario," cried Michel, 
 with great inconsistency ; " you think it droll and amus- 
 ing to say to a young girl, ' Mademoiselle, you are 
 charming to have accepted my name, but I would not 
 consent at any cost to give it to you.' ' 
 
 " It isn't you who would tell her so. You take every- 
 thing tragically." 
 
 " Oh, I beseech you, Daran ! '' said the young man, 
 clasping his forehead with both hands. 
 
 And, during the remainder of the visit, they talked 
 of other things. 
 
 The remark of Michel's friend reminded him of the 
 reflections he had made at the time of his unfortunate 
 meeting with Claude. 
 
 Why should he torment himself beyond measure with 
 this vaudeville situation? To exaggerate its impor- 
 tance was to emphasise its absurdity. Claude's " April 
 Fool " ought to be laughed at. If Miss Severn had any 
 wit, she would be the first to be amused. 
 
 But the difficulty, in such cases, is to know how to 
 laugh without appearing detestable. All the diffidence 
 of former days awoke in Michel, and he overwhelmed 
 himself with the futile questions we ask ourselves after a 
 deed is done. Why had he not waited for summer be- 
 fore leaving Paris? Why had he not started for Nor- 
 way? Why had he even spent the winter in France? 
 Why, on receiving the letter which he then thought old
 
 88 APRIL'S LADY 
 
 Miss Sarah had written, did he not tell Madame Bethunc, 
 instead of foolishly waiting for fresh complications? 
 Why had he not, that very day, had the courage to deny 
 the absurd engagement on which he was congratulated? 
 
 Daran's counsels had irritated Michel as utterly 
 stupid, yet one still occupied his mind on account of the 
 surprise, the bewilderment, instantly followed by rebel- 
 lion, which he had felt. How could the idea that he, 
 Tremor, would profit by Claude's prank to marry his 
 cousin Suzanne, ever have entered Daran's head? 
 
 Of all the issues from a situation whence he desired 
 to escape with the least possible awkwardness, this was 
 perhaps the only one Michel had not himself studied 
 before his friend's arrival. Now, more indulgent to 
 Daran's divagations, he smiled at them, regretting his 
 anger. 
 
 Weary of living alone and haunted by the feeling of 
 lassitude which had succeeded an almost morbid prefer- 
 ence for solitude, he finally reached the point of saying 
 to himself that Daran was right in one respect, and that 
 a marriage which would bestow peace, family joys, and 
 the charm of the fireside, might in fact realise an ideal 
 of happy life without being necessarily the result of a 
 passionate love. 
 
 Michel did not think of marrying Suzanne Severn ; in 
 the first place it would have given a ridiculous close to a 
 jest which was in very poor taste, and he dreaded ridi- 
 cule ; it was one of his weaknesses ; then, admitting that 
 some day he ought to marry, he should desire only a 
 sensible union, from which the romantic element would 
 be rigorously banished. Yet perhaps, in the future, he
 
 APRIL'S LADY 89 
 
 would be less on the defensive when Colette sang the 
 praises of some young girl. 
 
 For an instant Michel saw passing through the dusky 
 room a slender figure which was neither that of the 
 bicyclist of the Jouvelles woods nor the pretty Amer- 
 ican of the festival, yet which did not seem to have es- 
 caped from the frame where perpetually smiled the White 
 Lady of the tower. Vague, airy, she glided from one 
 piece of furniture to another. Was she arrang- 
 ing flowers in the old Rouen china? Michel closed his 
 eyes and tried to believe that someone was there, that a 
 voice would soon speak to him, that if he held out his 
 hand, a smaller one would slip into his clasp. For an 
 instant the bright, frank glance of Simone Chaze flashed 
 from the darkest corner and the smiling lips of Mar- 
 guerite Sainval, a very pretty brunette whom Michel 
 had often met in Madame Fauvel's drawing-room, uttered 
 mysterious words. Then the little American tried to 
 drive away the frank eyes and interrupt the smiling lips 
 by saying: 
 
 " My name is sweeter than that of Allys. I am the 
 Knight's promised bride. Why do you evoke other im- 
 ages than mine? " 
 
 But Michel answered: 
 
 " You are romance, poesy ; romance and poesy have 
 deceived me; all is over between us. Do not await the 
 knight; he is lying lifeless on his couch of stone. No 
 name could stir his heart or raise his lashes, not even 
 yours, however sweet it may be; not even the name of 
 other days, the name which was his last sigh, and which 
 he now forgets in the eternal slumber."
 
 VII 
 
 BOUT ten o'clock Michel had had Tristan saddled 
 and gone to Precroix, where he had asked for Madame 
 Bethune. Now, standing before the window in the little 
 drawing-room, he waited, looking out of doors. 
 
 It was a grey morning with mists clinging to the trees 
 and, at times, showers of fine rain mournfully veiling 
 everything. Dreary, dismal weather! 
 
 The hour of explanations had struck. Like a child 
 about to recite a half-learned lesson, Michel was prepar- 
 ing phrases. Almost as diffident as in his youth, be- 
 neath the artificial ease which he had succeeded in acquir- 
 ing, he would never have dared to give himself up to the 
 inspiration of the moment. So, in this strange con- 
 juncture of circumstances, he felt a certain comfort in 
 evoking the frank face of May Bethune. This world- 
 ling was a woman whom nothing astonished, yet this 
 woman whom nothing astonished was infinitely kind be- 
 neath her frivolous manners. She would perform the 
 mission to Suzanne with tact and gentleness. Who 
 knows whether, in her desire to compensate for the blun- 
 ders of her son Claude, she might not arrange for Miss 
 Severn a brilliant revenge, make some Prince Charming 
 appear as if in the last act of a fairy tale. Thanks to 
 her, little Zanne, in the joy of the new betrothal, would 
 speedily console herself for having been unappreciated 
 by the gloomy owl in the tower of Saint-Sylvere. 
 
 At last the young man heard steps, and Madame 
 
 90
 
 APRIL'S LADY 91 
 
 Bethune entered. Unfortunately, she was not alone. 
 Radiant, with the joy of youth, as usual, sparkling on 
 her lips and in her eyes, she came forward with one arm 
 around the waist of Miss Severn, who was also smiling, 
 a flush on her cheeks. After shaking hands they sat 
 down with a rustle of silken skirts, and a conversation 
 began, light, cordial, yet seemingly waiting for the 
 " something serious " that was to come. 
 
 At first Michel had said gravely, " Mademoiselle," and 
 May had laughed at him. Cousins ! It was ridiculous ! 
 Then he had avoided addressing Suzanne directly or find- 
 ing himself compelled to use any title in speaking to her, 
 and he soon noticed that the young girl maintained the 
 same reserve. 
 
 The word engagement had not been uttered, but it was 
 in the air, inevitable, and Michel felt the impression of 
 an invisible net which would be slowly woven around him. 
 It was in fact almost as difficult to confess the truth to 
 Madame Bethune in Miss Severn's presence as to sug- 
 gest to Miss Severn a withdrawal that would have ren- 
 dered an explanatory conversation with Madame Bethune 
 possible. 
 
 At the end of a few minutes, the young matron touched 
 upon the burning subject: 
 
 " I was certain that Susy's letter would have to 
 follow you to Paris, and I expected to see your ugly 
 handwriting, and not your agreeable self at Pre- 
 croix." 
 
 " I found my cousin's letter on arriving, and I was 
 going to Precroix when I met you yesterday, but you 
 had so many people with you, that I seized the first
 
 92 APRIL'S LADY 
 
 pretext to escape," replied Michel with a composure in 
 lying which astonished himself. 
 
 " Poor fellow ! Without knowing it, I was very cruel 
 in changing your plans so," returned Madame Bethune. 
 " And Colette, what does she say to the events of the 
 day?" 
 
 " Colette knows nothing," said Michel, feeling more 
 and more muddled, but thinking that this time, at least, 
 he was not committing the slightest offence against the 
 truth. 
 
 With a comical gesture May raised her clasped hands 
 toward the ceiling, then let them fall into her lap. 
 
 " Don't open your eyes too wide, my dear," she cried. 
 " Monsieur Tremor is an oddity, whom no one will ever 
 make commonplace. Colette and I warned you." 
 
 " I suppose you have been told much evil about me 
 Cousin? " 
 
 " A great deal." 
 
 " Oh, I find no fault with it ; perhaps they have been 
 even too indulgent." 
 
 " If you are fishing for a compliment, I warn you 
 that you won't get it, but I am going to allow you 
 plenty of leisure to justify yourself against our charges," 
 said Madame Bethune, rising. 
 
 She added : 
 
 " My dear, you are an American and Michel Tremor 
 is originally from some still unknown planet, so I can 
 act outside of French conventionalities. Good-bye for 
 the present." 
 
 The sound of the door closing upon the stylish figure 
 echoed like a knell in the ears of the unfortunate Tremor.
 
 APRIL'S LADY 93 
 
 He would fain have found words to detain Madame 
 Bethune ; wonderfully clever phrases to entreat her to 
 have patience a moment and to take Suzanne away, but 
 all spontaneity of invention failed him. Even before 
 he could mentally grasp the consequences of this flight, 
 Miss Severn's voice brought him back to the pressing 
 reality. 
 
 " You are eccentric, that is true! " said this voice, 
 emphasising the word. 
 
 Michel looked at his cousin inquiringly. 
 
 " Did not you recognise me at once at the Green Sep- 
 ulchre ? " she asked. 
 
 " No," he answered evasively. 
 
 " When you recognised me, why didn't you tell me 
 so?" 
 
 " I might answer you by the same question," replied 
 Michel smiling. 
 
 " Oh ! I only wanted to have a little fun," returned 
 the young girl. " At first, to tell the truth, I was a bit 
 afraid of you, then when I understood who you were, all 
 my fear vanished; then the adventure seemed so comical 
 that I took care not to rob it of its bloom by exchang- 
 ing cards. I had little doubt, however, in speaking of 
 it to Madame Bethune and writing to our friend Claude, 
 that the knight must play a part in my life. Did you 
 know at that time that I was Maud and Claire's gov- 
 erness ? " 
 
 " No," answered Tremor. 
 
 But though he clearly realised that his shuffling would 
 end by giving him a sort of complicity in Claude's 
 pranks, he did not yet have courage to explain himself,
 
 94 APRIL'S LADY 
 
 and vowing that this evasion should be the last, 
 added : 
 
 " I knew through Colette that you were in Cannes at 
 the same time as Madame Bethune and had arrived there 
 with one of her old friends, so I could not be surprised 
 at your presence at Precroix. I thought that Maud and 
 Claire were still under the charge of Miss Sarah." 
 
 " Ah ! yes," cried Suzanne with a charming laugh. 
 " You thought of Miss Sarah, when I alluded to the 
 Bethunes' governess. Then you did not know that I 
 was earning my living? " she asked more seriously. 
 
 " Colette had written that you were with Miss Stevens 
 as her reader," replied Michel quickly. 
 
 Was Suzanne going to accuse him of this base petti- 
 ness contempt for women who earn their living ! 
 
 " My poor Uncle John left me all his savings, but they 
 were not very large ; I am not rich. You must know 
 that, too," Miss Severn went on with the same serious- 
 ness. " Six thousand dollars is a very small dowry, isn't 
 it?" 
 
 This time Michel uttered a cry of protest. 
 
 "Oh! Mademoiselle!" 
 
 He was overwhelmed with self-reproach at the idea 
 that this child might perhaps conclude, from a refusal 
 preceded by so much hesitation, that a question of for- 
 tune or prejudice might have had some mean influence 
 upon his determination. He must speak, and speak 
 now, on pain of being a dishonest man. Yet had he 
 still the right to do so? 
 
 At this expressive exclamation from her cousin, 
 Suzanne smiled and said very frankly:
 
 APRIL'S LADY 95 
 
 " Will you call me Suzanne? I do not know whether 
 you still wish to marry me, but I am sure that I shall 
 desire your friendship." 
 
 She held out her little hand. 
 
 " Thank you," said Michel, pressing it. 
 
 This assurance from Suzanne was indeed sweet to him 
 when he thought of the task which he had to fulfil, so 
 that a sort of emotion, consisting of apprehension as 
 much as gratitude, thrilled in this thank you, robbing 
 it of any triteness. But the lord of Saint-Sylvere tower 
 was floundering more and more in the mire. Though he 
 summoned to his aid all his strength of will, all his sin- 
 cere desire to act loyally, the words stuck in his throat 
 when he tried to say : 
 
 " I have waited until this hour to inform you that you 
 have been foolishly, odiously deceived." 
 
 Besides, Miss Severn did not consider their engage- 
 ment fixed. What was the meaning of her allusion to 
 a possible rupture? Seizing this pretext, Michel clung 
 to the hope of some obstacle raised by Miss Severn her- 
 self. He waited. 
 
 " You seem rather silent, this morning, Cousin." 
 
 " I am often so," answered Michel. 
 
 And he thought that the young girl was surprised by 
 his somewhat cold, or at least singular manner. 
 
 " Colette told me ; she has talked about you a great 
 Ideal. Don't you think that that she had a little de- 
 sire for our marriage? " 
 
 " I am sure of it she desired it very eagerly, 
 but" 
 
 "But?"
 
 96 APRIL'S LADY 
 
 " But If her somewhat blind affection for me could 
 wish nothing more, it seems as if her regard for you 
 should have rendered her less exacting." 
 
 Miss Severn began to laugh. 
 
 " I am tempted to repeat Madame Bethune's words : 
 ' Are you fishing for a compliment? ' " 
 
 " A compliment ! Oh ! Good Heavens, no, I assure 
 you ! " 
 
 Unconsciously the sentence was spoken sorrowfully. 
 
 Suzanne made no reply, busying herself in carefully 
 removing a little dry leaf which had caught in the wool 
 of her gown, then suddenly pushing back, with an im- 
 patient gesture, the hair that rested on her cheeks, she 
 fixed her candid gaze upon Michel. 
 
 " If I wanted to talk with you," she said, " it is be- 
 cause, because, sincerely, I do not think I am the wife 
 you need." 
 
 Michel started. 
 
 "Why?" 
 
 " For a number of reasons. In the first place, be- 
 cause you are a superior man, and I am just an ordinary 
 little woman. Oh ! don't protest, you know me so little 
 that the praise would be meaningless. Next, because 
 you are a sort of poet, a prose poet, if you like, but a 
 thinker, a person captivated by fancies, and I am very 
 practical. You must have noticed that there are two 
 classes of 4 marrying girls,' those who dream, and those 
 who calculate. I see a third : those who reason to 
 which I belong, for I flatter myself that I am not mer- 
 cenary, yet I could not boast of being in any way sen- 
 timental."
 
 APRIL'S LADY 97 
 
 While thus expressing herself in very fluent French, 
 oddly marked by an American accent, Michel was gaz- 
 ing at her. 
 
 In the English costume with a straight collar, which 
 she wore this morning, Miss Severn looked much more like 
 the bicyclist than the fashionable girl of the day before. 
 But she resembled her like an older sister, the boyish 
 vivacity of her manners tempered by feminine charm. 
 At the Green Sepulchre Michel had thought her small 
 and fragile; she was only slight and very refined, with 
 a skin like snow, the rosy snow that floats in April in 
 the blossoming orchards. Her hair, somewhat unusual 
 in color, a light chestnut, waved naturally, without con- 
 cealing the exquisite shape of her little head ; her pretty 
 mouth often smiled, showing a glimpse of small, white 
 teeth; her eyes illumined her whole face. They were 
 the " speaking eyes " Daran remembered ; a somewhat 
 humid blue, yet whose light was as cheering as a sunny 
 day; eyes which always seemed to have something to 
 say or to conceal ; eyes which possessed a persuasive, sov- 
 ereign charm ; eyes which would have softened Hop o' 
 my Thumb's ogre, haunted the dreams of a hermit less 
 hardened than the one in the tower of Saint-Sylvere, 
 and which had for an accomplice a saucy little nose 
 slightly tip-tilted as if to better inhale the joy of 
 life. 
 
 Suzanne Severn would have been considered anywhere 
 an extremely pretty girl. Unless blind or singularly 
 near-sighted, it would have been difficult not to admit 
 this, and Michel's eyes were no worse than any other 
 man's. For an instant, without any lover-like emotion,
 
 98 APRIL'S LADY 
 
 he admired with genuine pleasure this delicate beauty, as 
 he would have admired a rare flower. 
 
 " At the Green Sepulchre," Suzanne went on, " you 
 were able to create some charming illusions about me. 
 It was all very romantic though you treated me like 
 a baby that meeting in the ruins, and the idea of 
 writing my name on the walls was romantic too ! I 
 really don't know what nonsense entered my mind. 
 I love legends, that is it. My prosaic Yankee im- 
 agination doubtless hides some little corner of mys- 
 tery. It is an inheritance from my grandmother, your 
 Aunt Regine. Ah, she was romantic! She sacrificed 
 everything, family, future, native land, to a great love ; 
 yet I have often seen her weep, and she never spoke of 
 my grandfather to me. She was not happy. I do not 
 know whether her sadness inspired some unconscious dis- 
 trust in me; but I have never longed for the marriage 
 of love, so greatly desired by some girls. I don't think 
 great passions are natural to me. You remember my 
 French governess, the one who called me Zanne. Poor 
 girl ! She had a lover somewhere she never married 
 him, alas ! and in telling me her dreams, she was so 
 droll that I reached the point of wondering whether, when 
 people loved without being unhappy like grandmother, 
 they were not compelled to be ridiculous, like Made- 
 moiselle Gemier." 
 
 " You were not wrong. People are most frequently 
 both ridiculous and unhappy." 
 
 " Besides, I will confess that marriage and love oc- 
 cupied my mind very little until Uncle John's death," 
 Miss Severn continued calmly. " My simple, peaceful,
 
 APRIL'S LADY 99 
 
 easy life as a young girl satisfied me my somewhat 
 serious studies, for Uncle John wished me to be capable 
 of teaching ; a few parties of young people of my own 
 age, for he did not wish me to be entirely without enter- 
 tainment; instructive reading in general (I don't care 
 for novels) the management of our tiny home; my 
 little attentions to Uncle John, who took the place of 
 the father and mother whom I had never known and the 
 grandmother I had just lost, were enough to fill my 
 days. Oh! I won't make myself out any better than I 
 am! I love pretty gowns, pretty rooms, luxury in all 
 its forms, but when I saw my poor uncle working in an 
 office for me at sixty years, I learned with pleasure to be 
 economical and, when he returned happy to find me at 
 home, I was as content as he in this narrow existence. 
 Then Uncle John died " 
 
 Here Suzanne's voice faltered. 
 
 " Poor child," Michel murmured. 
 
 " Uncle John died," she went on ; "I grieved deeply. 
 Then I felt so small, so weak, so lost, that, for the first 
 time, I thought of seeking a protector. But mean- 
 while, as I was not rich, I wanted to work. My good 
 grandmother had reared me in the Catholic religion ; 
 she had given me a French teacher ; her last wish, which 
 Uncle John respected, had been that the very small sum 
 she left me should enable me to spend six months in 
 France and there study the French language. A short 
 time before her death she had said, ' Promise me that, 
 later, if your heart and your duty do not keep you in 
 America, you will return to France and marry only a 
 Frenchman.' I promised. I worshipped my grand-
 
 100 APRIL'S LADY 
 
 mother, and through her I learned to love France as 
 another native land. Alone in the world I remembered 
 these things and, as Miss Stevens wanted to take to 
 Paris and Cannes a young girl who was competent to 
 help her in her correspondence and read to her, I came 
 with her." 
 
 " To seek a husband? " asked Michel. 
 
 " First to earn a little money, and then to have some 
 chance of finding myself near a Frenchman who was 
 looking for a wife, Cousin." 
 
 Then, as Michel smiled, she added: 
 
 " I am sorry if I shock you, but tell me, when par- 
 ents want to marry off their daughter, do they leave 
 her sitting in the chimney corner? If they want to 
 wed her to a manufacturer, do they throw her into a 
 circle of artists, or if to a soldier, into a set of mer- 
 chants? I, alas, I have no relative to attend to these 
 things for me, and besides, do you suppose that young 
 girls wjio do, never think of anything but the pleasure 
 of dancing when they are taken to balls ? Since I wished 
 to marry, it was necessary to see some people, and to 
 see people in France, as I wanted to marry a Frenchman. 
 But be sure that if I was seeking a husband, as you say, 
 I was not at all disposed to marry anyone I chanced to 
 meet." 
 
 " I thank you," replied Tremor, bowing, with a touch 
 of irony. 
 
 " You do right," replied the young girl, looking 
 him squarely in the face. 
 
 Then, with the same calmness, she went on : 
 
 " I found two in succession. First, on the boat, a
 
 APRIL'S LADY 101 
 
 merchant from Bordeaux, well off, but tiresome and 
 ugly ! Oh ! dear! then at Cannes a Dutchman from 
 Batavia who was not very long I must do him that 
 justice in placing at my feet his name with ten mil- 
 lions and sextuple years. For my taste there were a 
 little too many millions, and far too many years. I had 
 no ideal, thank Heaven, but I had an idea ! " 
 
 " And your idea? " 
 
 " My idea was to marry only a man young enough 
 to share or understand my tastes, distinguished enough 
 for me to be proud to go arm in arm with him, kind 
 and loyal enough for me to have every confidence in 
 him, intelligent enough to direct to my satisfaction his 
 life and my own." 
 
 " In short, perfection? " 
 
 " That isn't all. I was going to add : rich enough to 
 give me the luxury, the elegances, the pleasures I love. 
 I would never marry a poor man. I am making you my 
 profession of faith, so I wish it to be sincere. Love in 
 a cottage, the slice of bread shared, etc., excellent in 
 theory ! But you know the vulgar saying, * When 
 there is no more hay in the manger, the horses fight.' 
 I prefer a fine house to a cottage, and cakes to bread. 
 Besides, I have often noticed that love matches are less 
 frequent than people suppose, and above all, less 
 happy." 
 
 " Ah ! you have made your little personal observa- 
 tions?" 
 
 " Often. I have friends who adored their lovers and 
 who spend their time in speaking ill of their husbands. 
 They are more or less jealous, they suffer agony about
 
 102 APRIL'S LADY 
 
 any number of trivial things, while I see around me 
 pleasant homes whose beginning was certainly not ro- 
 mantic. I will not quote the Bethunes, that I may not 
 shock you. But Colette and Robert! There are two 
 people contented with their fate, and who love each 
 other warmly without dreaming of the impossible! 
 Colette's household is my ideal. And now if you 
 should say that I am very exacting and ambitious 
 for a poor little governess, I should answer that, am- 
 bitious or not, I am absolutely mistress of my life; my 
 little fortune places me above the reach of want; work 
 bores, without frightening me ; if I do not marry, I shall 
 console myself for it very well. I belong, as I have 
 confessed, to the class of young girls who reason. 
 When you did me the honour to ask for my hand, I 
 reasoned. You not only seemed to me to unite the 
 requisite conditions, but you are also the brother of 
 Colette, whom I dearly love, the nephew of my grand- 
 mother, whom I also loved dearly, and my cousin, whom 
 I am inclined to love too. I could meet no better match. 
 This is the reason I answered yes at once. But I am 
 frank and thoroughly honest. If you had imagined me 
 different, if you would desire to be adored by your wife 
 and play the sentimental lover, do not marry me. I 
 shall be a good little wife, a loyal comrade if necessary, 
 I shall esteem you highly, I shall love you tranquilly, 
 in my own way, but I don't know whether it is a' good 
 one and I shall never adore you. I am entirely in- 
 capable of passionate love." 
 
 Suzanne Severn had made this little speech with calm
 
 APRIL'S LADY 103 
 
 simplicity and a distinctness emphasised by the pecul- 
 iarly clear tone of her voice. 
 
 Michel had listened, first with astonishment, then with 
 a feeling of rebellion, at last with an indulgent curiosity. 
 He had perceived by certain vibrations in the limpid 
 voice that some little courage was needed in this great 
 frankness, and the gaze of a pair of very pure eyes 
 had allowed him to understand that there was much in- 
 nocence underlying this boldness. 
 
 " You are a strange child," said he. 
 
 " I don't think so," she retorted ; " only I have not 
 spent half my time in dreaming of the stars, and the 
 rest in reading novels ; I know that life is not a romance, 
 and that the stars shine far from the earth. Then, I 
 am sincere, sincere with others, sincere with myself, 
 which is often more difficult. But I imagine that my 
 declaration of principles surprises you." 
 
 Michel could not help laughing. 
 
 " Yes, I thought " 
 
 " You feared so ? " repeated the young girl. 
 
 She was silent, reflected, then said deliberately: 
 
 " Michel, I am sure that you do not love me. Why 
 do you want to marry me ? " 
 
 There was a startled look in Michel's eyes; hitherto, 
 he had listened indifferently, yielding to the course of 
 events. 
 
 But Suzanne went on quietly: 
 
 " My experience of life, as well as of novels, is very 
 brief ; yet it seems to me that if you loved me, you would 
 not have heard what I have just said with so much
 
 104 APRIL'S LADY 
 
 calmness; it seems as if you would have already an- 
 swered my last question. So you do not love me, and 
 then I am almost poor, I have no family, no relatives. 
 Why should you wish me to become your wife? " 
 
 The question was plain. Why had it not been put 
 sooner, before so many delays could make the young 
 girl believe if the truth was at last told her that 
 the man to whom she had thus confessed was playing 
 with her and her confidence! Michel wanted to confess 
 at the same time Claude's fault and his own, implore 
 Suzanne's pardon, but an insurmountable shame checked 
 the words on his lips, and he felt as guilty through the 
 cowardice that had stopped him for an hour, as Claude 
 through his cruel mischief. He gazed a moment at the 
 figures in the carpet which whirled beneath his eyes, then 
 he raised his head. He had reached his decision. 
 
 " You have been singularly frank with me, Suzanne, 
 and it seems as if my candour should equal yours," he 
 said, calling the young girl by her Christian name for 
 the first time. " You are right ; before I heard this, I 
 knew you very slightly, but Colette is a poor artist, 
 for she has given you an extremely false idea of me. 
 Perhaps I have not always been so reasonable as you 
 are; at any rate, I have become so, and if she ever met 
 the enthusiastic poet, the dreamer she described, I defy 
 her now to find him again. This poet was only a mad- 
 man or even a fool; far from possessing your wisdom, 
 he artlessly believed that the stars were not unattainable. 
 He had a great deception, and found himself at once 
 so miserable and so unhappy that he swore to cure him- 
 self of this sorrow of love since the term is conse-
 
 APRIL'S LADY 105 
 
 crated and he kept his oath so well that he soon felt 
 cured forever. Then he cried out that his life was 
 crushed, and I think he died of the cure! I am speak- 
 ing of the poet, for the remains of the catastrophe were 
 picked up by a very practical man, fully inclined to 
 make the most of them. It is this new philosopher 
 whom you see to-day. I no longer dream of a great 
 poem, a great love, nor a great happiness, Suzanne, and 
 I have given up reaching the stars ; only I don't know 
 what to do with this poor shattered existence and 
 I should like to give it to you. I should like to have 
 a fireside, family life, duties that snatch me from the 
 selfishness of my barren journeys through the world. 
 And if I ask permission to devote this life to you, to 
 offer you the first place at this fireside, it is because I, 
 too, have reasoned, because I know that you are intelli- 
 gent and kind, because you, like myself, are alone, and 
 because Colette loves you. You see that your sincerity 
 has given me courage to show mine. I dare not, I will 
 not tell you that I love you with the passionate emotion 
 your beautiful youth should claim, but I can swear that 
 your happiness shall be dearer to me than my own, and 
 that you will find in me a devotion and care which will 
 never fail. Will you be my wife? " 
 
 Michel looked intently at Suzanne, anxiously waiting 
 for her reply, still vaguely hoping it might be a refusal. 
 
 But she answered smiling: 
 
 " Yes, Michel." 
 
 When Tremor, in the presence of the radiant Madame 
 Bethune, took leave of his fiancee, he gently raised her 
 hand to his lips.
 
 106 APRIL'S LADY 
 
 " You will need a doll's ring," he remarked, still 
 holding the little fingers in his own. There was no 
 longer any trace of emotion in the young girl's face. 
 Clasping her hands, with a look of entreaty in her eyes, 
 she cried: 
 
 " Oh, please, a pearl, a pretty pearl ; I am so fond of 
 them." 
 
 The rain had ceased; a wan sunlight was gilding the 
 greyish whiteness of the clouds. Madame Bethune and 
 Suzanne accompanied Michel to the door steps, and 
 while he was mounting, stood for a moment laughing 
 and talking, shivering slightly in the damp atmosphere. 
 
 " We dine at seven ! " May Bethune reminded Tremor 
 as he rode off on Tristan, with a last greeting to the 
 ladies. 
 
 When he had passed the entrance gate, the young man 
 urged his horse to a quicker pace; he felt the need of 
 cooling his forehead in the breeze, wearying his over- 
 excited nerves by violent exercise. 
 
 On leaving Precroix, it seemed as if he had waked 
 from a nightmare. But alas, the nightmare could not 
 be separated from reality. Michel Tremor had just 
 pledged his life. 
 
 Now a dull sense of anger seethed within him, mingled 
 with a feeling of distress at the irrevocable nature of 
 the act, but, somewhat scornfully, his resentment spared 
 Suzanne. Why should the young girl be expected to be 
 unlike the majority of her contemporaries? In com- 
 parison with the few who, before passively giving their 
 lives, voluntarily bestow all their souls and minds, how 
 many marry through ambition and vanity, to obtain a
 
 APRIL'S LADY 107 
 
 relative independence, or merely to obey a social custom, 
 and not risk dressing St. Catherine's hair? 
 
 Suzanne, feeling herself alone, almost poor, and ill 
 suited for the daily battle of life, sought in marriage a 
 protector and a fortune, and one must do her the justice 
 of admitting that having decided to marry only a rich 
 man, it was not enough that he should be merely 
 wealthy to induce her to accept him. 
 
 Endowed, doubtless for her own happiness, with a 
 practical mind, a tranquil imagination, a somewhat cold 
 heart, and a calm temperament, she was a young girl like 
 so many others, far more numerous than is believed by 
 the young men who are ready to become infatuated with 
 these mysterious little creatures ; she was even something 
 more. This honest child had acted like an honest man. 
 It is true that, at first, Michel had been on the point 
 of attributing Miss Severn's frankness to a sort of 
 cynicism, but almost instantly he was tempted to feel 
 an esteem for his cousin's character though the senti- 
 ment was somewhat bitter. If Michel preferred a sin- 
 cerity that bordered upon boldness to a reserve which 
 touched hypocrisy, it was because he remembered. 
 
 However that might be, the young man's resentment 
 was directed solely against the work of chance for whose 
 cowardly acceptance he reproached himself, not merely 
 because, evoked by the new betrothal, all the malice of 
 former days returned, but because he already measured 
 the full extent of the error he was about to commit ; the 
 strange child who had so frankly expressed her theories, 
 saw clearly when she said she was not the woman who 
 might have made him happy.
 
 108 APRIL'S LADY 
 
 Having only a very commonplace life to offer the 
 woman he should marry, he did not desire to quarrel 
 with Miss Severn's positive ideas. A marriage of 
 prudence, so be it ! But a marriage of prudence should 
 also be a prudent marriage. 
 
 Though far from the time when his ardent imagina- 
 tion prostrated itself before a deified image, Michel 
 knew that, if he were absolute master of his decisions, 
 he should never have married a woman who did not cor- 
 respond in some degree, if not to the ideal of former 
 days, at least to the type which he had since created 
 of the being from whom he would ask a relative happi- 
 ness. 
 
 " My decision has been as deliberate as yours," he had 
 said kindly to Miss Severn ; " I wanted my wife to be 
 sweet, intelligent, and have Colette love her." 
 
 Beloved by Colette Suzanne was ; sweet and intelligent, 
 Michel had some reason to believe she might be, but to 
 attain complete sincerity he should have added : " I 
 wished my wife to be sweet and I divine that you are 
 self-willed, a little domestic like myself, and you love 
 society, quiet, and you are constantly astir, very fem- 
 inine in tastes and manners, and the first time I met 
 you, you were running about the woods, dressed like a 
 boy." 
 
 " Marry ! That's all very well ! " Michel said to 
 himself, " perhaps I might have married some day 
 but to marry a woman whom I dislike, it is too absurd ! " 
 
 Perhaps he did not actually dislike Suzanne, but she 
 certainly attracted him very little. He even criticised 
 the girlish beauty which, for an instant, had charmed
 
 APRIL'S LADY 109 
 
 him. Besides, he felt an inclination to detest the accent 
 she had retained, though speaking as grammatically as 
 a French woman, and which, when she talked, seemed as 
 if it were actually visible on her lips. 
 
 At the Green Sepulchre, when there was no serious 
 subject between them, Michel had been able to judge the 
 young girl as she doubtless often appeared in daily life, 
 and from their conversation at that time, as well as the 
 more recent request for a pearl, a " pretty pearl," he 
 concluded that she was ridiculously childish for a woman 
 of twenty-two. 
 
 Charming as children are, child-women are unbear- 
 able! Michel imagined Suzanne as a second edition of 
 Colette, a Colette with less heedlessness and less feminine 
 charm. He loved his sister warmly, but how many 
 times he had admired the patience and good-humour 
 of his brother-in-law. Colette's home was Miss Sev- 
 ern's ideal! 
 
 Now Michel wondered how he could have answered 
 calmly, with winning phrases, words whose memory 
 disgusted him. It would have been so simple to cut 
 short all hesitation with the reply, " You are right ; 
 I am only a madman. I dreamed of being loved." And 
 Michel laughed at his own ingenuousness. To think that 
 he could have attributed romantic ideas to so practical a 
 person as Miss Severn ! Romantic the experienced bi- 
 cyclist, the young woman in an uncouth costume wan- 
 dering about the woods with a road-map ! 
 
 " Oh ! what a strange couple we shall be ! " sighed the 
 young man. 
 
 At the tower of Saint-Sylvere, Daran was waiting.
 
 110 APRIL'S LADY 
 
 " Well," asked the devoted friend with unfortunate 
 eagerness, " will you marry or not marry? " 
 
 Michel ought not to have been much surprised by the 
 question, but through a very human inconsistency, the 
 fact that Daran had considered possible the very im- 
 probable decision he had just made, exasperated him. 
 
 " Attend to your own affairs ! " he answered angrily, 
 crossing the room to go into the adjoining chamber, then 
 a feeling of remorse changed his mood. 
 
 " You will lunch with me, won't you? " he asked, this 
 time very amiably. And he added: 
 
 " I am only a fool, Daran, and a lunatic ! I am going 
 to marry."
 
 Part Second
 
 PART^SECOND 
 
 IVl ICHEUS engagement, announced at Cannes with- 
 out a word concerning the strange incident which had 
 caused it, hastened by several days the return of Mon- 
 sieur and Madame Fauvel. 
 
 Colette was radiant. In the course of the past season, 
 during which the intimacy with May Bethune and Miss 
 Stevens had thrown her constantly with Suzanne, she 
 had given her enthusiastic heart wholly to the merry, 
 frank little cousin, who chatted so prettily with her, 
 played with Nysette, made the fourth at Robert's game of 
 whist, and told Georges stories. Then, right or wrong, 
 Colette was sure that the lines of sorrow on Michel's 
 brow which her loving sisterly kisses could not efface, 
 would vanish in the warm light of a happy fireside. And 
 as she was wholly incapable of caring for a question of 
 fortune, it had seemed to her very simple to unite for 
 life two persons between whom her affection already 
 formed a bond. So she had not asked herself whether 
 Michel and Suzanne would be suited to each other. Was 
 not her big, kind Michel, when he thought it worth while 
 to take the trouble, the most charming of men ? 
 
 As for " little Zanne," she had all the desirable quali- 
 ties so bewitching, so droll, so merry, and besides so 
 elegant in a little four-cent gown ! At Cannes, every- 
 body, including May Bethume, Robert, and the children, 
 
 113
 
 114. APRIL'S LADY 
 
 were bewitched with her and lamented that tiresome Miss 
 Stevens should selfishly appropriate her for the benefit 
 of her rheumatism and hypochondria. Dear little Zanne ! 
 She deserved a great happiness. And now the wishes 
 and expectations of Madame Fauvel would be miracu- 
 lously realised, now the great happiness had come ! 
 
 Scarcely was she out of the carriage when the young 
 matron threw herself into Tremor's arms. 
 
 " Where is Suzanne? " she cried, always following the 
 thought of the moment, as she planted two kisses on her 
 brother's cheeks. 
 
 " Why, at Precroix," he answered, with imperceptible 
 impatience. 
 
 Then he tenderly kissed Colette and little Georges, 
 whom she held by the hand, warmly returned Robert's 
 cordial greeting, and took up Nysette, who, wearied by 
 the journey, was rubbing her eyes in her nurse's arms. 
 
 " How do you do, Tonti ? " murmured the little girl in 
 a sleepy tone and a comical accent on the last syllable of 
 the name she gave her uncle. " Where is Zazanne? " 
 
 " She has gone back to America," replied Michel, 
 laughing, yet irritated. 
 
 This young girl whose love he had not sought seemed 
 to invade his whole life and spoil its little j oys. Nysette 
 laughed, too, then letting her head fall upon Tonti's 
 shoulder, " Silly ! " she said disrespectfully. And she 
 fell asleep again. 
 
 But at dinner and later, in the Fauvel's drawing- 
 room, while Robert was attending to his voluminous 
 correspondence, questions rained afresh; he was obliged 
 to answer, compelled to look pleased when at the name of
 
 APRIL'S LADY 115 
 
 Suzanne Colette sounded her praises, in which Monsieur 
 Fauvel discreetly j oined. 
 
 " She is a very charming girl ; Georges and Nysette 
 worship her," the lawyer concluded, as if this testimony 
 said everything. 
 
 Madame Fauvel was a little disappointed at hearing 
 that Miss Severn expected to stay at Precroix until 
 Madame Bethune's departure, that is, until the time 
 Castelflore would reopen its doors, and very indignant 
 on finding that Michel had not given up his journey to 
 the North. 
 
 " Why, are you crazy ? " she exclaimed. " If I were 
 Suzanne, I would kill you ! " 
 
 " Why? Suzanne knows that my plans were made 
 several months ago and we shall not marry before 
 the autumn, when you return to Paris." 
 
 " Then for three months you will not see each other ? " 
 
 " Two months and a half, at most. And we shall have 
 so many months to see each other afterward." 
 
 Madame Fauvel opened her beautiful hazel eyes very 
 wide. 
 
 " How queer you are," she said. " And yet she 
 pleases you? " 
 
 " Oh ! certainly," returned the young man. " We are 
 beginning to know each other very well, now that we have 
 dined together three times and had a game of croquet. 
 She has a good appetite, and plays capitally. On the 
 whole, it is a very charming doll." 
 
 " Oh ! Michel, doll ! " repeated Madame Fauvel. 
 
 And Robert remarked, " I think you are very harsh. 
 Why the deuce do you marry her? "
 
 116 APRIL'S LADY 
 
 " To please Colette ! " sighed Tremor. 
 
 He was about to add something to his reply concerning 
 Suzanne, for he was in a very bad temper that morning, 
 when Nysette, climbing into the armchair, perched upon 
 his knees. He kissed her and while the little girl returned 
 his kisses with sweet caresses, light touches of rosy fingers, 
 and gay laughter, he said : 
 
 " If I could have stolen Nysette from you, my dear 
 friends, I believe I should never have married." 
 
 Then he sat down near his brother-in-law, who almost 
 immediately commenced a discussion that had nothing to 
 do with Suzanne. 
 
 Colette had not heard the suggestion of stealing Ny- 
 sette ; her love for her children was the only heroic feeling 
 in her little bird-soul. Daran had not exaggerated ; for 
 them she would have made any sacrifice. Robert took the 
 second place. Madame Fauvel loved her husband, loved 
 him very much, but somewhat like a daughter, yet with the 
 air of a princess in allowing herself to be petted, adorned, 
 worshipped by this grave man, who had never sought 
 to make the beautiful idol his real companion and 
 support. 
 
 Tall, slender, graceful, pretty, too, with brown eyes 
 which were sometimes like her brother's, and thick, reddish 
 brown hair, naturally kind and agreeable, sufficiently in- 
 telligent to talk upon a variety of sub j ects with charming 
 vivacity, artistic enough to dress with a style that dress- 
 makers cannot sell, Colette was one of those women to 
 whom people are grateful for being beautiful and smiling, 
 without asking more. 
 
 In a fit of ill temper, increased by Madame Fauvel's tri-
 
 APRIL'S LADY 117 
 
 umphant enthusiasm, Michel had taken pleasure in affect- 
 ing a sort of disdain in speaking of Suzanne, which 
 greatly exaggerated his real feeling. 
 
 Miss Severn was intelligent, more intelligent than 
 Colette, and far better educated. She had read a great 
 deal, history and science, travels, very little poetry, and 
 few novels. She played and sang as well as the average 
 person, could caricature people with a stroke of the 
 pencil, danced as naturally as others walk, rode horse- 
 back with equal ease, and could modestly declare herself a 
 first class tennis player. 
 
 Every evening, according to a standing order, a won- 
 derful white bouquet came from Paris for Miss Severn, 
 but bored by his character of engaged lover, Tremor 
 pleaded the business which must be done before his depar- 
 ture as an excuse for the infrequency of his visits. Be- 
 sides, Suzanne simplified matters by the natural, friendly 
 tone she instantly assumed, treating Michel far more like 
 her cousin than her future husband. 
 
 Delighted to spend the summer at Castelflore, and to 
 be no longer either secretary or governess, she did not 
 trouble herself at all about the departure for Norway. 
 She had declared that she thought it extremely vexatious, 
 and even absurd to defer unless for some serious 
 obstacle journeys that had been planned for a long 
 time. It was foolishly risking the chance of ever making 
 them. 
 
 No one asked what she meant by a " serious obstacle," 
 and Tremor wondered whether Miss Severn, indulgent to 
 the journey, might not be making a little fun of the 
 traveller, but the young girl's face was very calm; no
 
 118 APRIL'S LADY 
 
 laugh, banished from the lips, sparkled in her eyes. 
 An odd little thing, certainly. 
 
 Vexed at being compelled to marry, persuaded that his 
 wife would make life difficult and disagreeable for him, 
 Michel had yet admitted to himself that he would have 
 rather enjoyed talking with Suzanne, if the thought of 
 the bond uniting him to her had not poisoned the charm 
 of their conversations. Yes, she was amusing! But 
 amusing women do not always entertain, and do not en- 
 tertain everybody ! In any case there is one person whom 
 they never amuse, and that is their husband. 
 
 Michel spent in Paris the week following the Fauvels' 
 arrival ; several matters to settle, letters to write, reading 
 to finish, preparations for the journey absorbed nearly 
 all his time. 
 
 Now that the date of his departure was approaching, 
 Michel felt in the mood for concessions. Everything 
 was ready. Far from Paris and Rivailler, he could 
 once more cast behind him the cares of real life. Two 
 months of change, two months of liberty! The future 
 vanished in mist. Yes, everything was ready for de- 
 parture.
 
 II 
 
 JL HE evening before his .departure, Michel dined at 
 Castelflore, where Monsieur and Madame Fauvel had just 
 settled, joyously welcoming Suzanne, whom Madame 
 Bethune's absence had at last released. 
 
 The architect who built Castelflore had had the Trian- 
 ons in his mind, and Colette had furnished it in harmony 
 with the period. The park with its groves, its shady wil- 
 lows and oaks, from whose green shadow, here and there 
 shimmered the whiteness of statues, descended in a gentle 
 slope to the Serpentine, a small stream which washed its 
 shores. And it was a paradise of flowers. 
 
 Suzanne was instantly captivated by Castelflore; she 
 was artlessly happy in seeing around her only cheerful 
 faces and beautiful things. 
 
 For the first time that year, Colette had had the 
 coffee served on the terrace. It was a beautiful evening, 
 an hour of peace, but Michel enjoyed neither the quiet 
 nor the happiness. Leaning against the stone balus- 
 trade, he heard only the murmur of conversation between 
 Suzanne and Fauvel, of which a word occasionally 
 reached him, as he gazed mournfully into the distant 
 shadows of the park. At last, he roused himself from 
 this morbid reverie and approached the group. 
 
 " May I take a cigarette ? " he asked, drawing out his 
 case. 
 
 As Colette answered with a smile, he glanced at Miss 
 
 119
 
 120 APRIL'S LADY 
 
 Severn. " The smoke will not annoy you? " he persisted 
 mechanically. 
 
 " A cigarette annoy me ! Please pass me one ! " 
 
 " You smoke ! " exclaimed Michel, instantly recalled to 
 reality, and both amused and vexed by the discovery. 
 
 " I smoked with Uncle John very often ! And I 
 like to smoke ; it is 4 exciting.' A cigarette, please." 
 
 " Very well," replied Tremor, and after handing his 
 case to the young girl, he went back to lean on the balus- 
 trade. 
 
 " Thank you, Michel, thank you," repeated Miss Severn. 
 
 She had already lighted the cigarette. " What fun 
 it is to live ! " she hummed. " I am happy, happy, 
 happy ! I want nothing more in the world. This Turk- 
 ish tobacco is delicious ! " 
 
 Monsieur Fauvel, who had said nothing, laughed heart- 
 
 fly- 
 
 " It is your last day, my dear," he said ; " make the 
 most of it. When Michel is gone, you won't have the 
 right to be happy and amuse yourself in this way." 
 
 " Why ? " she answered quietly. " Is he going to Nor- 
 way to be bored? " 
 
 " Well said ! " cried Colette. 
 
 Michel turned. 
 
 " I wish you to enjoy yourself," he remarked. 
 
 " Thank you." 
 
 " At any rate we will do everything possible to en- 
 tertain her," said the young matron, affectionately. 
 
 " Ah ! we haven't yet reached the right moment at 
 Rivailler ; wait for the season, Susy ; wait for the season," 
 said Monsieur Fauvel.
 
 APRIL'S LADY 121 
 
 " Are there pleasant people here then ? " 
 
 " Charming people ! Ask Michel," replied the lawyer, 
 thinking of the attacks of shyness to which his brother- 
 in-law always gave himself up as soon as he reached 
 Saint-Sylvere. 
 
 Suzanne instantly sprang up, threw away her half- 
 smoked cigarette, and leaned on the balustrade beside 
 her cousin. 
 
 " Michel," she said, " don't be sulky ; tell me the charm- 
 ing people at Rivailler." 
 
 " Their name is legion," replied Tremor through a 
 spirit of contradiction. 
 
 " That is a little vague give me details." 
 
 " Gladly," replied Michel, with the same obliging 
 manner. " There are the Pontmaurys, a father and five 
 sons." 
 
 " Five sons, oh ! dear me ! " 
 
 " That interests you," replied the young man, some- 
 what sarcastically. " The three youngest are children ; 
 so only the two others count with you, don't they ? " 
 
 " Certainly," answered Susy, a little tone of defiance in 
 her voice. 
 
 " Leon is twenty-eight," said Michel ; " he is a lawyer, 
 a steady-going fellow." 
 
 " With a distant manner, whiskers, and set speeches ! 
 I can see him now ! Go on ! " 
 
 " Thank you very much, Suzanne," cried Monsieur 
 Fauvel. 
 
 ** You have no whiskers, in the first place, and then 
 you are charming, which you know just as well as I do. 
 And the other? "
 
 122 APRIL'S LADY 
 
 " The other? Gaston," Michel went on patiently, " is 
 twenty-five ; his principal occupation, I believe, is devour- 
 ing his mother's fortune." 
 
 " That's very bad ! Next? " 
 
 " Next are Monsieur Landry, a retired notary, and 
 his daughter, Madame de Lorge, who writes her name 
 in two words, since she has been a widow." 
 
 " I have been told some tales about her, Michel," in- 
 terrupted Monsieur Fauvel. 
 
 " Oh ! so have I," replied Michel laughing. 
 
 " Tell me," cried Suzanne eagerly. 
 
 Michel did not laugh ; the question shocked him. 
 
 " I have forgotten them," he answered coldly. 
 
 " So much the worse ; I'll ask Robert. Is Madame de 
 Lorge pretty ? " 
 
 " That's a matter of taste. Smart, but smart in 
 rather bad style ; that is all ! " 
 
 " Ah and then, who else? " 
 
 " My friend Jacques Reault, who has just been mar- 
 ried, for whom I have rented the des Saules villa." 
 
 " Is Madame Reault pretty? " 
 
 " Charming." 
 
 "Blonde?" 
 
 " Brunette." 
 
 "Ah! And then?" 
 
 " Madame Reault's sister, Mademoiselle Chaze, a very 
 sweet child, Paul Reault, Jacques' brother, a 
 
 "A very sweet fellow. Oh! I know him," said 
 Suzanne calmly. 
 
 Michel looked surprised. 
 
 "You know him?"
 
 APRIL'S LADY 123 
 
 " He was at Cannes last winter. We played tennis 
 he is a little wild?" 
 
 " Very wild," continued Tremor, who had regained 
 his calmness. " He graduated from the School of 
 Science and Art two years ago, and finished his military 
 service last autumn, but I strongly suspect he is follow- 
 ing Gaston Pontmaury's example. Jacques is in de- 
 spair over his brother's recklessness." 
 
 " Pshaw ! Young men must have their fun ! And 
 who else? " 
 
 " You are insatiable ; I know no more." 
 
 Michel had reached the end of his patience. Still 
 resting his elbows on the balustrade, he bent his head 
 till his forehead touched his open palms, and remained 
 silent. 
 
 " I'm sorry for your memory ! " cried Colette. " And 
 Languille! The artist you know, little Zanne. And 
 the Sainvals! Delightful people, who always have a 
 houseful of guests. And Raymond Desplans, their 
 cousin, a friend of Michel lastly, Susy, I'll spare 
 you the sub-prefect, the various officials, and many 
 others ! " 
 
 " Ah, well, well, there are enough for my happiness ! " 
 said Suzanne merrily. 
 
 She turned smiling toward Michel, asking: 
 
 " You will not be too jealous, if these people pay me 
 a little attention? " 
 
 " Jealous, I ! Good Heavens, no," he answered, an- 
 grily throwing the match which had just gone out down 
 on the gravel walk. 
 
 " You are not very polite, my dear cousin."
 
 124 APRIL'S LADY 
 
 "Why?" he said in a more conciliatory tone. "I 
 think that jealousy is offensive. I trust you, that is 
 all." 
 
 She laughed rather hardly, murmured, " Frailty, thy 
 name is woman," and with her pretty gliding step, went 
 back to Colette. 
 
 " I see," she added aloud, " that Rivailler is a little 
 Capua." 
 
 After a moment they returned to the drawing-room 
 and, at half past ten, Michel rose to take leave. He 
 embraced Colette, who for several minutes had been talk- 
 ing in a somewhat tremulous voice, then he held out 
 his hand to Suzanne. 
 
 " I hope you will give me the pleasure of answering 
 the letters I shall write," he said politely. 
 
 " Why, of course. Good-bye, and a pleasant 
 journey, Michel." 
 
 " Kiss her ; this is absurd ! " said Colette, with a laugh 
 which showed that tears were close at hand. 
 
 Suzanne quietly offered her cheek, and Michel pressed 
 his lips to it. His heart was a little heavy, not because 
 he was going to leave his young fiancee, but because 
 she parted from him so coldly. Suddenly turning to 
 Colette again, he kissed her repeatedly, clasping her 
 closely to his breast. 
 
 " More and more ! She smokes, and I am almost 
 certain she flirts," he thought, quickly descending the 
 steps of Castelflore. " I certainly do not like her." 
 
 When Miss Severn put out her candle, a throng of 
 ideas whirled through her brain. 
 
 " Ah ! how comfortable I am ! What an ideal cham-
 
 APRIL'S LADY 125 
 
 her, so cool and pinkl I love pink rooms. I would 
 like to have one with Louis XVI furniture. If only 
 Michel will spoil me a little, give me pretty things. 
 I think he has a great deal of taste! Shall we be 
 happy ? Oh ! Michel is a go.od fellow on the whole, but 
 he can't be accused of caring too much for his fiancee. 
 Madame Bethune said, * He worships you ! * so often 
 that I began to be afraid he might love me too much. 
 It would be absurd to expect a woman to be passion- 
 ately in love with the man she marries, but it is nec- 
 essary for a husband to admire his wife a little. Robert 
 admires Colette tremendously, yet I don't believe that 
 Colette was ever crazy about him." 
 
 Then her thought took a different course. 
 
 " Michel spoke of a great deception which left traces 
 upon his life. I should like to know the name of the 
 deception, and if she was very beautiful. Better look- 
 ing than I. I wonder if he thinks me pretty? The 
 parting did not trouble him much nor me either. He 
 is very glad to go; I can understand that. Such a 
 pleasant journey. When he comes back in the fall, 
 we shall be married. How strange ! It is comical and 
 yet alarming." 
 
 The young girl frowned. For a moment she was 
 absorbed in a vague fear of the new life, then as her 
 lashes drooped, she murmured: 
 
 " He will be kind, I am sure he will be kind to me." 
 
 And very peacefully, thinking of the pleasures Colette 
 had promised, she fell asleep. 
 
 What she had said of her quiet youth was true. She 
 had nursed her grandmother and uncle with infinite
 
 126 APRIL'S LADY 
 
 tenderness and, while they lived, found pleasure in the 
 duties that kept her at home, contenting herself, by 
 way of amusements, with " five o'clock teas," " dances," 
 games of tennis, and rides on the bicycle or on horse- 
 back with young people of her own age. But she had 
 known sorrow, then work and servitude, then everything 
 suddenly brightened. Suzanne had discovered relatives ; 
 she would soon have her own home. How, after having 
 felt so sad, could she have failed to give herself up to 
 the natural reaction? 
 
 In this Michel had seen correctly, and in other re- 
 spects he could hardly be reproached for having carried 
 on his study of his pretty cousin's character somewhat 
 in the dark. 
 
 But what he had not known how to fathom was that 
 some day, in this soul of a child, a woman's might 
 awaken ; within this undeveloped being a whole world of 
 thoughts and feelings might exist, waiting* to reveal 
 themselves like the vital principles of a seed whose 
 unfolding was dependent upon certain atmospheric 
 conditions a favourable environment. Was life per- 
 haps already dimly stirring beneath the sleeping water?
 
 Ill 
 
 JL HE boat for Bergen on which Michel had taken 
 passage did not leave Havre until the next morning. 
 The young man went to Trouville, dined there, and 
 visited a shop for antiques where he had purchased, 
 piece by piece, most of the wonders of Norman furni- 
 ture in the tower of Saint-Sylvere, but this evening he 
 bought nothing. 
 
 Slowly descending the winding streets between rows 
 of old houses, the voice of the sea, at first low, gradually 
 increased in volume, until it absorbed all the noises of 
 the street. 
 
 The shore was dark, and so, too, was the row of shops 
 bordering the promenade where, two months later, every 
 evening, so many well-known figures would glide to and 
 fro. 
 
 The stretch of sand sloped gently to the line of waves 
 and, though the tide was high, the beach, stripped of its 
 bath-houses, tents, and parasols, looked empty and de- 
 serted. 
 
 Michel reached the pier, and leaned idly on the railing. 
 
 Here and there a phosphorescent light shimmered, 
 but on this moonless night the sea was clearly visible 
 only beneath the lighthouse, which shone like a gem, 
 forming a luminous circle on the water whose heaving 
 circumference melted into the distance. Gradually 
 Michel gave to the waves certain definite forms, fabulous 
 
 dragons, reptiles that turned and writhed incessantly. 
 
 127
 
 128 APRIL'S LADY 
 
 And in the sound of the waves mingled voices that hissed 
 or wailed by turns. 
 
 Other voices blended with the sea, too ; sweeter and 
 more human voices, that bade farewell and sang of by- 
 gone days. The waves are great tellers of old tales. 
 
 Suddenly he felt the magnetic attraction of a look 
 and, turning his head, met a pair of eyes he knew. A 
 woman's figure was leaning on the railing near him. 
 
 " So you are not in Norway ? " came a murmur. 
 
 Conquering his surprise, and perhaps his emotion, 
 Michel had already bowed to Comtesse Wronska. 
 
 " I am going to-morrow," he answered gently. 
 
 Faustine had reached Trouville the night before with 
 some friends who wanted to find a villa for July and, 
 that evening, saying she wished to send a telegram, she 
 had escaped from the hotel. While explaining these 
 things as if apologising for being there, Tremor, in 
 spite of himself, looked at her in the ray of light which, 
 through a slight change of attitude, now shone upon 
 her face. Under her little straw hat, she seemed 
 younger and more like the Faustine of former days. 
 
 Why did she thus give the reason of her coming? 
 Tremor had supposed himself very far away from her 
 at the moment she was breathing at his side when, by 
 stretching out his arm he could have touched her dress. 
 
 " You go to-morrow ? " the comtesse repeated. 
 
 " Yes, Madame," he answered laconically. 
 
 " Isn't it a very strange thing ? " she went on slowly. 
 ." I am here by accident at a time few come. You were 
 at Havre to sail, and the same chance led you to spend 
 an evening at Trouville . . ."
 
 APRIL'S LADY 129 
 
 She paused, hesitated then, as by an instinctive move- 
 ment Michel turned his face toward her, she was silent 
 and he did not ask what words had been on her lips. A 
 powerful emotion seized him. For an instant he almost 
 abandoned himself to the madness of imagining that he 
 had been asleep all these years and just waked from an 
 evil dream. Comtesse Wronska? Who was she? Be- 
 side him beat the pure* heart of Faustine Morel. Were 
 there any others in the world except themselves ? They 
 did not know. They were alone beneath the sky and 
 before the sea. 
 
 " Michel " 
 
 It was scarcely a breath, but the name evoked the 
 memories, of bygone days. 
 
 " Michel, I have not told you. Just now I saw you 
 go down toward the shore. My mother was with me; 
 she knew that I wanted, that I must speak to you." 
 
 Without replying, Michel looked at the young widow. 
 
 " Michel," she went on, " you have not yet forgiven 
 me ; I cannot bear your unkindness." 
 
 Then he remembered that this woman, whose presence 
 was so sweet to him, had tortured his heart, and wrath 
 seized him. 
 
 " Do you think it was easy to bear the suffering you 
 caused me? " 
 
 She answered timidly: 
 
 " Michel, I was very young and I had suffered. 
 Oh! if you knew the joyless, hopeless life of a poor 
 girl, who has but one fate to work for her living 
 or rather to escape from dying." 
 
 " Did I offer you this poverty ? "
 
 130 APRIL'S LADY 
 
 Comtcsse Wronska's strange smile hovered around her 
 lips. 
 
 " You offered me an income of sixty or eighty thou- 
 sand francs, and Comte Wronski fifteen times as much! 
 The prospect intoxicated me. I was mad. I thought 
 that money could buy everything, even happiness. I 
 soon found that I was deceived irrevocably." 
 
 She talked for a long time of the emptiness of the 
 life which at first had dazzled her, how she had often 
 even regretted her former poverty. 
 
 Michel did not interrupt her; he was listening to her 
 musical voice without trying to take in the meaning of 
 the words. Yet he felt a mournful pleasure in listening 
 to the deceitful melody. 
 
 After a moment, however, he made a gesture of wear- 
 iness. 
 
 " Why stir these ashes ? One word is enough. You 
 did not love me." 
 
 " Listen, Michel ; you are the only man I ever loved 
 but I did not know, I did not understand " 
 
 " And I placed you so high," he murmured without 
 answering directly. " My whole life would have been 
 devoted to deserving you. You were the most beautiful, 
 the purest, the best of women ; I worshipped you on my 
 knees." 
 
 Comtesse Wronska shook her head. 
 
 " You worshipped me," she said, " but did you love 
 me? No, you loved a woman who had my features ; you 
 loved in me a conception of your own mind. Ah ! why 
 do they say that love is blind? On the contrary, true 
 love is terribly clear-sighted ! It sees defects of charac-
 
 APRIL'S LADY 131 
 
 ter more clearly than friendship or indifference could do ; 
 but it loves in spite of these imperfections, almost on 
 account of them, because it loves a human being and not 
 an abstraction. You never loved in this way. Then, 
 when you perceived your error, love vanished! It was 
 the angel, the ideal, the fairy that you loved and I 
 believe you scorn the woman, that is all ! " 
 
 She was silent, and the waves sung still more loudly in 
 Michel's ears. Fishing boats were returning with the 
 tide, their white sails glided through the circle of light 
 to vanish in the shadow and appear again nearer port. 
 Tremor, his face hidden in his hands, did not seem to 
 have heard the comtesse. There was silence ; at last she 
 asked: 
 
 " Is what I have been told true? Are you going to 
 marry ? " 
 
 " It is true," he replied, without raising his head. 
 
 " To an American ? " 
 
 " To my cousin, Miss Severn- Jackson." 
 
 " Ah ! I did not know you had an American cousin," 
 replied the young widow with a tinge of derision. " I 
 congratulate you. The advantage is great." 
 
 He looked at her almost sternly. 
 
 " If you allude to pecuniary advantage, the charge is 
 groundless. Miss Severn has no fortune." 
 
 Faustine lowered her eyes. 
 
 " Then," she said, dropping the aggressive tone she 
 had assumed for an instant and speaking with great sad- 
 ness, " it is she at last, the angel, the fairy ? And you 
 love her passionately ? " 
 
 Michel turned so abruptly that the comtesse started.
 
 132 APRIL'S LADY 
 
 " She is like any other young girl," he said, " and I 
 do not love her. I am marrying because I have grown 
 to hate solitude, and would like to have a family ; because 
 I am tired of traveling and would like to settle down in 
 some place; because I have wasted my life and wish at 
 least to try to re-establish it upon a new foundation; 
 that is all. Oh ! do you suppose that angels and fairies 
 can still exist for me? " 
 
 Wrath had again seized Michel, more nervous, more 
 intense. As Faustine listened in silence, he suddenly 
 grasped her hands and, in a low voice, whose passionate 
 vibrations he could not control, said: 
 
 " But you have never understood how I loved you ! 
 Ah ! how my whole being belonged to you to dispose of 
 by a glance, a word, a breath; how jealous, despairing 
 I sometimes was, and with what good reason. And I 
 was born to lovp thus madly, exclusively, passionately, but 
 also sacredly, and for my whole life. Then you killed 
 love in my heart, or so degraded it that I love no longer, 
 shall never love." 
 
 A stifled cry of entreaty or love : 
 
 "Michel!" 
 
 And Faustine's pale face, from which the hat fell back, 
 was pressed against Michel's breast, her beautiful hair 
 touched the young man's lips. He yielded to the charm, 
 his arms clasped her shoulders, his lips rested with de- 
 light on the tawny perfumed locks that sought his 
 caresses. Then he saw the snare; very gently, with a 
 sort of indulgent, sorrowful respect, he thrust Faustine 
 away, and for a moment they remained side by side with- 
 out daring to speak, their eyes upon the sea.
 
 APRIL'S LADY 133 
 
 At last Faustina murmured: 
 
 " You no longer love me. . . ." 
 
 With the same sad gentleness, he answered, " No. 5 ' 
 
 The memory of poor little Zanne had not even glided 
 over his mind, but he knew that he could not give Com- 
 tesse Wronska the love of Faustine's fiance. 
 
 Comtesse Wronska passed her hand across her fore- 
 head, then with a woman's instinctive movement, arranged 
 her hair and hat. 
 
 " Farewell," she said. 
 
 " Farewell," murmured Michel. 
 
 He would have liked to add that he wished her happi- 
 ness, that he would remain her friend, but the words 
 failed; he faltered something, and the light figure van- 
 ished in the darkness. Michel might have imagined he 
 had had a dream, if he had not still felt upon his lips 
 the silken caress of the golden hair, and through his 
 whole being the emotion aroused by that instant's em- 
 brace. It was the end of the romance and he would fain 
 have detained Faustine, perhaps to curse her, but also to 
 see and hear her, taste the bitter pleasure of all that 
 could no longer be, regrets for the happiness she had not 
 desired to bestow when there was time. 
 
 A verse of a beloved poet, the poet of hours of deep 
 sadness, came to his memory : 
 
 " From me you have desired to know, 
 
 Whence comes my love for you. In sooth, 
 I love you for this reason. Lo ! 
 
 You bear the semblance of my youth ! "
 
 134 APRIL'S LADY 
 
 Michel no longer loved Faustine, but she resembled his 
 youth. And when she vanished in the darkness, it was to 
 his youth that he believed he was bidding farewell. 
 
 The next day once more he left France.
 
 IV 
 
 JjEFORE the train stopped Michel had leaned out of 
 the door to receive the welcome of Colette's smile, and 
 having sought in vain upon the almost deserted platform 
 her pretty slender figure, he had experienced one of those 
 keen, yet somewhat foolish disappointments, to which 
 sensitive natures are prone, and which seem so absurdly 
 disproportionate when calmly compared with their cause. 
 
 Behind the station, in the shade of a large chestnut 
 tree, the Castelflore carriage was waiting; but Michel's 
 unexpected telegram had passed Monsieur and Madame 
 Fauvel on their way to Paris to spend the day and even- 
 ing. Miss Severn had given the necessary orders. 
 These details, which he learned from the coachman, did 
 not dispel Michel's annoyance. 
 
 The wooded road which united the station of Rivailler 
 with the tower of Saint-Sylvere reminded him of more 
 than one unpleasant hour; often at the end of a some- 
 what tiresome day he had rolled over it, weary of distant 
 journeys. Then Colette would want to carry him on 
 to Castelflore, but the gay life there held little attrac- 
 tion for Michel in these days of moral fatigue. Re- 
 sisting her affectionate entreaties, he always ended by 
 returning to " the dove-cote of Saint-Sylvere," which, 
 though dull and empty by contrast, at least required 
 from its occupant neither a white cravat, nor gossip. 
 
 To-day, alas! it had not been necessary to defend 
 
 himself and invent excuses to escape the coaxing invita- 
 
 135
 
 136 APRIL'S LADY 
 
 tions of Madame Fauvel. It was a queer idea to leave 
 the country in the month of July to seek the white 
 asphalt! And Suzanne? Why had she remained at 
 Castelflore? No doubt she had been afraid of missing 
 a garden party at the Sainvals, a five o'clock tea at the 
 Pontmaurys, or one of the walks in parties which she had 
 often described in her letters to Michel, letters to which 
 certain foreign turns of phrase gave a special attraction, 
 and which often by an amusing word, the unexpected 
 and whimsical summing up of a situation, had brought 
 a smile to the lips of the man who received them. Nor 
 were they devoid of heart, for they often spoke of Colette 
 and the two children with real affection. But they were 
 the letters of a frivolous child. Not a serious reflection, 
 not an allusion to the future. 
 
 The dry earth rang under the horses' hoofs, great 
 clouds of dust rose for an instant, then gradually set- 
 tled down again through air too still to bear them away. 
 The blue sky descended to the horizon, where in the 
 opaline distance the green of the fields of oats blended 
 with the yellow hue of the wheat. 
 
 The tower of Saint-Sylvere rose at a turn of the road, 
 and the carriage soon stopped at the gate. While the 
 servants were taking the luggage, Tremor went into the 
 garden. The flowering vines seemed to have interlaced 
 to protect the fairy slumber of the " Sleeping Beauty " ; 
 the traveller thought that this abundance of vegetation, 
 though he loved it, gave a neglected appearance to his 
 dwelling. 
 
 He went up the walk whose leafy trees permitted only 
 a pale, emerald green light to reach the earth. Then,
 
 APRIL'S LADY 
 
 at a sudden turn he saw, framed in the grey stone, 
 starred with clematis, Suzanne waiting for him with 
 Georges and Nysette. Their little arms were wound 
 around Miss Severn's waist, two curly heads rested 
 against the folds of her gown, and she herself was smil- 
 ing brilliantly as if she were a part of everything ex- 
 panding around her in the summer sunshine. By a 
 strange reaction it seemed to Michel the most natural 
 thing in the world to find her here to welcome him amid 
 the flowers. 
 
 " Oh ! you are really kind," he murmured, warmly 
 pressing Miss Severn's hands. 
 
 In the study Suzanne told him various little items. 
 She had given up going to Paris to attend a luncheon 
 for young girls at the Reaults. Then she had thought 
 of receiving her cousin in the tower of Saint-Sylvere 
 with the children. Antoinette the old nurse who had 
 brought up Michel and Colette had wished to come 
 with them. 
 
 " It seems that this would be more the proper thing," 
 added the young girl. 
 
 Michel looked around him; all the Rouen vases were 
 full of roses, on the desk oats and large field daisies rose 
 from a green bronze jar. Suzanne answered the glance. 
 
 " We robbed the garden. Oh ! how pretty this virgin 
 forest is ! You are not vexed, Michel, because we have 
 profaned the sanctuary ? " 
 
 " On the contrary, I am very glad of it, and very 
 grateful." 
 
 He left the room to give some orders. Downstairs 
 Antoinette was drinking a cup of milk with Jacotte.
 
 138 APRIL'S LADY 
 
 " You will have a charming wife, Monsieur Michel," 
 she said. " Everybody loves her." 
 
 Michel's only answer was a smile. When he returned, 
 Suzanne was examining the tapestries. 
 
 " Your dove-cote is delightful," she said. 
 
 " A little dismal, however." 
 
 " There are no dismal houses, Michel ; there are dismal 
 people, that is all." 
 
 Michel took Nysette in his arms and went from room 
 to room, explaining to Suzanne the origin of the ancient 
 furniture. 
 
 " You won't be afraid to live in this old house? " he 
 asked, amused at seeing Miss Severn, so young and 
 modern, sitting in a window seat, playing with a spin- 
 ning-wheel.' 
 
 " Three months a year? Not at all. And Castel- 
 flore is so near." 
 
 " Susy will always stay at Castelflore," said Ny- 
 sette. 
 
 Georges, who understood better, smiled scornfully. 
 
 " Goose," he said ; " Uncle won't let her." 
 
 The inspection of the tower of Saint-Sylvere con- 
 tinued. On the lower floor was a large unfurnished hall. 
 Michel, annoyed by Suzanne's allusion to the vicinity of 
 Castelflore, made an effort to say pleasantly : 
 
 " You can arrange this room according to your taste, 
 if if you wish to entertain a little." 
 
 " I was thinking of that," replied the young girl with 
 the utmost composure. " But I should like to have 
 antique furniture here similar to the rest, and in my 
 room too. It is impossible to introduce gewgaws ! It's
 
 APRIL'S LADY 139 
 
 quite enough to put in myself. Dear me, what an an- 
 achronism ! " 
 
 This pleased Michel, and when they went back to the 
 study the understanding was complete. 
 
 " Suppose we should dine with you ! " suggested Su- 
 zanne, as six o'clock struck. 
 
 A message was sent to Castelflore, and with an air of 
 playing at housekeeping, the young girl took her seat 
 opposite to Michel. The children laughed and talked, 
 delighted with the festivity. 
 
 Suzanne spoke of Robert and Colette, the pleasure she 
 had had, the friends she had made. 
 
 " Are you very fond of society ? " asked Michel. 
 
 " Very though I know little of it." 
 
 " Because you know little of it," he emphasised. 
 
 " Not at all, the more I know of it, the better I 
 like it." 
 
 Michel was silent, and Georges took up the conversa- 
 tion. 
 
 " You know I am riding horseback," he announced. 
 
 Then Nysette, with an eagerness that made her lose 
 her breath, told an incomprehensible story about a 
 " child horse " that was very naughty, and had eaten its 
 papa. 
 
 Suzanne's burst of laughter charmed Michel, while 
 Georges overwhelmed the little girl with scorn. She in- 
 sisted on the truthfulness of the tale. Paul Reault had 
 told her, and had even known the poor papa horse. 
 
 *' I had thought a little of dining at the Reaults, I 
 felt so lonely this evening," Michel remarked. " Do 
 you see them often? " he added.
 
 140 APRIL'S LADY 
 
 The Reaults? She was crazy about the Reaults. 
 How charming Therese was ! Simone Chaze was only a 
 child, but such a darling! And Paul was an excellent 
 fellow, and Monsieur Reault a delightful man! This 
 enthusiastic praise put the finishing touches to Michel's 
 good-humour. 
 
 " I am neglecting my duty," suddenly exclaimed the 
 young girl; "I haven't enquired about your journey. 
 There are travellers who would not forgive it." 
 
 " Oh," said the young man mournfully, " travellers 
 like to talk of their journeys only to have the opportu- 
 nity to speak of themselves." 
 
 " It isn't that but I have had your letters. They 
 were very interesting. I felt as if I were reading an 
 article in the Revue des Deux Mondes" observed 
 Suzanne with the composure which often left it doubtful 
 whether she was jesting or speaking seriously. 
 
 Wondering whether the remark was intended to praise 
 the writer, or criticise the lover, Michel bowed. She 
 went on : 
 
 " It has not given me any great desire to visit the 
 North Cape." 
 
 Then, still influenced by the country he had just left, 
 Michel defended its melancholy charm, describing the 
 marvellous light, the wonderful vegetation and, from 
 nature, he passed to human beings. 
 
 Suzanne listened, replying just enough for Michel to 
 know that he was being understood. Hitherto he had 
 made his fiancee talk much more than he had talked him- 
 self. 
 
 But he soon stopped, and began to laugh.
 
 APRIL'S LADY 141 
 
 " Come," he said, " I have fallen into the common cus- 
 tom of travellers, telling my adventures influenced by my 
 imagination. Perhaps you might be surprised if you 
 should go to Norway." 
 
 Dinner over, Michel unpacked some of the articles he 
 had brought, wood carvings, embroideries in soft, har- 
 monious colours, wrought by the peasant women. Su- 
 zanne flushed with pleasure when they were presented 
 to her. 
 
 But the carriage had already been waiting several 
 minutes. Standing before the glass, Miss Severn was 
 adjusting her veil. 
 
 " So you were not shocked by this visit ? " she asked 
 over her shoulder. " People are so queer in France ! At 
 first I wondered all day long whether I was doing the 
 proper thing. Then I made up my mind to be myself ! 
 Oh! I shall shock you; you will see; if not to-day, to- 
 morrow ! " 
 
 Michel protested, for he had really spent a charming 
 evening. 
 
 The young girl had bent her head slightly to fasten 
 her glove ; suddenly she looked him full in the face. 
 
 " Michel," she said, " will you make a bargain with me ? 
 Since it is agreed that we are not romantic lovers, let us 
 be good comrades. You will see that I can be nice when 
 I wish; I am not stupid either and you won't bore 
 me ; no, I don't believe that you will bore me at all. Then 
 you will often laugh, as you have done this evening, and 
 it will be an excellent thing for you to escape the blue 
 devils. For you have blue devils, oh ! you needn't deny 
 it. We will walk and talk together and, as we shall not
 
 142 APRIL'S LADY 
 
 be obliged to think only of ourselves, we can be agree- 
 able to everybody and shall pass for charming engaged 
 people which will quite upset the regulation ideas. 
 Is it agreed ? " 
 
 She held out her little hand ; he pressed it, smiling. 
 
 " It is agreed," he said. 
 
 The trampling of the horses' hoofs died away in the 
 distance. Michel sat down under the trees. The quiet 
 resolutions he had made while watching the veiled peaks 
 of the Norwegian mountains were strengthened in his 
 mind. He would devote himself to the happiness of this 
 child, would try to develop in her a more intense moral 
 and intellectual life, but he would be indulgent to her 
 youth and gaiety. 
 
 Comrades, Suzanne had said at parting. So be it. 
 Escaping the aberrations of love, they would see each 
 other clearly, undazzled by any artificial light. And 
 perhaps this comradeship might have a certain charm. 
 
 The next day at Castelflore, during a private conversa- 
 tion with her brother, Colette spoke of Suzanne. 
 
 " It was a nice idea to go and dine with you. Little 
 Zanne is extraordinary! She goes hither and yon on 
 horseback or a bicycle. Among the poor people she 
 knew at Precroix she has adopted a mother and children 
 whom every week, no matter what the weather may be, 
 she goes to help. She has taken a great fancy to The- 
 rese Reault and almost every day she walks through the 
 woods alone to spend an hour at the Villa des Saules; 
 she says everything that comes into her head, and all so 
 simply, so naturally, that everybody takes it as a matter 
 of course. Yet, in spite of her Yankee manners, she is
 
 APRIL'S LADY 143 
 
 French to her finger tips. A very fine copy of Aunt 
 Regine ! Ah ! you have given me a lovely sister-in-law ! " 
 
 " Perhaps it would be more correct to say that you will 
 have given me a charming wife," Michel corrected, smil- 
 ing. " But Suzanne and I are excellent friends. She 
 is certainly rather gay for me, and I am somewhat 
 domestic for her, but with some concessions on both 
 sides, this difference in tastes will be of small impor- 
 tance." 
 
 " Ah! so much the better! On seeing Susy enjoying 
 herself so openly, I have often wondered whether her high 
 spirits might not be a source of vexation between 
 you." 
 
 " Why ? I haven't the slightest desire to be a wet 
 blanket. And later, I confess, I shall rely upon your 
 continuing to chaperon her in society. Come, Colette, 
 she is a young, merry child ; am I to condemn her to the 
 owl-like existence I like to lead myself? " 
 
 " You will be an ideal husband," said Colette, clap- 
 ping her hands. 
 
 Meanwhile Suzanne entered, in a riding habit. 
 
 " Aha ! Something told me that the horse I saw in 
 the courtyard was yours," she cried. " You will go with 
 me?" 
 
 " But, Suzanne," said Colette, assuming her maternal 
 air, " I don't know that it is proper." 
 
 The young girl folded her arms and, looking Madame 
 Fauvel in the face, repeated : 
 
 " Proper ! When Michel and I are cousins ? And 
 even engaged into the bargain? Oh, that would be ab- 
 surd!"
 
 144 APRIL'S LADY 
 
 She was so comical in her indignation, that the young 
 man laughed. 
 
 " Come, Colette," he said, " a good idea ! It really 
 seems to me that in the country and then Suzanne 
 is an American. We can indulge her in one little 
 ' Americanism ' more." 
 
 Colette laughed too. 
 
 " Oh ! the fact is," she concluded resignedly, " one 
 more or less "
 
 BETHUNE had reasoned: 
 
 " Suzanne is an American girl, and Michel has dropped 
 from some little known planet. By what right should 
 French conventionalities be imposed upon them ? " 
 
 At Rivailler, people reasoned like May Bethune. 
 Knowing the social tastes of Miss Severn and the seden- 
 tary habits of Tremor, the shyness of the latter, the per- 
 fect independence of the former, they were no more 
 surprised to meet Miss Severn in society with Colette on 
 days when her lover did not appear than to meet her in 
 the woods or on the highroad, alone with him, when 
 Colette was afraid to brave the sun. Society was not 
 disturbed and continued to receive with open arms, not 
 only Suzanne who was faithful to it, but Michel, when 
 he condescended to tear himself away from Saint- 
 Sylvere. 
 
 To account for the infrequency of his appearance, 
 Colette's brother pleaded important work to be finished. 
 The famous history of the Hetheens was still in an em- 
 bryonic condition, but Tremor had brought it up to his 
 last notes of travel, and this labor of recalling a recent 
 past had bewitched him. When he had written the last 
 word of a long chapter, the hospitality of Robert and 
 Colette, the children's mirth and Suzanne's smiling grace 
 rested him. Sometimes he read to the young girl what 
 he had written in the morning, and she listened with 
 
 genuine pleasure. 
 
 145
 
 146 APRIL'S LADY 
 
 In society, that is at the evening parties, dinners, or 
 morning entertainments which country life renders more 
 simple and more free, Michel resigned himself to enter 
 into the gaiety, and even went so far as to arrange 
 charades. He took part in " innocent " games and, in 
 order not to distinguish himself decidedly from other 
 young men of the neighbourhood, he occasionally talked 
 with Madame de Lorge, a consolable widow, who was 
 thought amusing, apparently because she allowed out- 
 rageous things to be said to her. 
 
 With Suzanne herself, Michel perhaps exaggerated his 
 withdrawal, lest he might become tiresome. When, re- 
 calling his privileges as her future husband when etiquette 
 forbade him to forget them, he came to place himself at 
 her disposal in any way, she usually greeted him with a 
 smile whose friendliness was mingled with surprise. The 
 smile meant : " Oh ! there you are ! I am very glad." 
 This did not vex him, on the contrary, these youthful 
 high spirits sometimes amused him. But the happiest 
 moments of his " comradeship " with Suzanne he owed to 
 the interviews alone with her, at which no one thought of 
 being shocked. 
 
 Miss Severn was an excellent horsewoman ; three times 
 a week she rode with her fiance about the environs of 
 Rivailler, and these peaceful morning hours were to 
 Suzanne and Michel like a truce to the pleasures of one, 
 and the toil of the other. 
 
 Yet Tremor had difficulty in becoming accustomed to 
 the somewhat " transatlantic " manners of the young 
 girl. 
 
 For instance, it was hard for him to make no objection
 
 APRIL'S LADY 147 
 
 to the lonely walks through the fields and woods. A 
 hundred times Colette had proposed a chaperon, but the 
 little American rebelled against all restraint of that kind. 
 Michel was more reluctant to oppose her in this special 
 case because he was touched by the constancy with which 
 Suzanne weekly gave to a poor family what was better 
 than money, a few hours of her joyous life. One day she 
 had explained her theories about charity. 
 
 " You see, Michel, charitable institutions are not 
 enough ; they must be aided by the individual practice of 
 an intelligent charity which would mean that each person 
 should help a limited number not only aid them, but 
 devote to them a little of his time and his heart. I am 
 not rich ; I might give here and there a ten sou piece, a 
 pair of stockings, a little gown. Instead, I have adopted 
 the Michaud family, and give to them all the money, 
 clothes, and time I can bestow. It is not much, poor as 
 they are the grandfather and granddaughter work 
 hard to take the places of the dead father and mother 
 but at least I have the joy of making their burden 
 lighter. They are glad to see me ; I give them advice 
 yes, sir, very good advice. I scold the children 
 when they are dirty, sometimes I wash them. Meanwhile 
 Marcienne, the oldest girl, who is a very skilful lacemaker, 
 works and works. It seems that the children are more 
 obedient at school since I have looked at the reports, and 
 the grandfather thinks the house is pleasanter since I 
 taught Marcienne to keep the rooms tidy and put flowers 
 in the pots. The grandfather likes to have flowers in 
 the house." 
 
 " Yes, yes," Susy added, seeing Michel smile, " he likes
 
 148 APRIL'S LADY 
 
 it. I am not poetical, yet I think it does no harm to 
 mingle a little simple poesy in the lives of poor people. 
 Yes, Michel, I know I have done those poor Michauds 
 some good, and through it I have given myself so much 
 pleasure." 
 
 This profession of faith enchanted Michel. The doll 
 had a heart. But he showed himself less resigned in 
 accepting the Americanisms of his fiancee, when he saw 
 her one evening, after a dinner party at Castelflore, 
 dance the skirt dance before twenty people. 
 
 This skirt dance, whose figures resembled very closely 
 those of Loie Fuller, was one of Miss Severn's great 
 talents. She danced it without effort, lightly, airily, as 
 a butterfly hovers. And in her long floating mauve 
 foulard whose width of more than twenty yards, rising 
 with the movements of her arms, framed her like wings, 
 she really gave the idea of a butterfly, a large pretty 
 butterfly. 
 
 It was impossible to deny the charm of this graceful 
 creature, impossible, too, not to admire the exquisite 
 form which the wide silk gown enveloped so closely. 
 Michel could not help acknowledging this charm ; but he 
 remembered that others were there ; he thought he read in 
 their eyes what he himself was feeling, and the idea was 
 hateful, causing almost the impression of physical suf- 
 fering. 
 
 A moment later, chance brought Susy near the young 
 man, and she saw that he did not share the general en- 
 thusiasm. 
 
 " How sulky you are,"' she remarked gaily, still ex- 
 cited by her recent triumph.
 
 APRIL'S LADY 
 
 Michel was staring fixedly at the floor; he raised his 
 head. 
 
 " Listen, Susy," he said ; " the dance displeased me so 
 much that it would be very difficult to compliment you 
 upon it." 
 
 " The skirt dance shocks you ! But one sees scarcely 
 anything else in every drawing-room." 
 
 " Possibly, but I confess that until now I have never 
 seen it except at the Folies-Bergere." 
 
 Miss Severn laughed in rather a vexed way. 
 
 "Is it ugly?" 
 
 " No, it is far too pretty." 
 
 " You complain that it is too good? " she said heed- 
 lessly. 
 
 Michel looked at her and a faint smile hovered around 
 his lips, while an expression somewhat difficult to define 
 sparkled in his brown eyes. 
 
 " Precisely," he assented. 
 
 A flush tinged Miss Severn's face, and she shook her 
 head like a child, laughing merrily. 
 
 " Will you do me the favor," Michel went on, very 
 seriously this time, " not to dance it again ? " 
 
 " Will you be very, very glad? " 
 
 " Extremely glad." 
 
 " And you will be very, very nice in return ? " 
 
 " As nice as I can be, yes." 
 
 " Well, then, I won't dance the skirt dance any more, 
 for the present at any rate." 
 
 Michel marvelled at this submission. He thought that 
 patient gentleness would conquer the little eccentricities 
 of his fiancee, and congratulated himself on his firmness.
 
 150 APRIL'S LADY 
 
 But he did not understand did Suzanne herself? 
 that all his firmness would have been vain. If Michel 
 had triumphed, it was due to a scarcely expressed compli- 
 ment, which she had apparently been able to read in the 
 eyes of the austere knight of Saint-Sylvere. 
 
 Michel usually chose to dine at Castelflore on the few 
 days when Colette had invited no other guests. 
 
 One evening as he entered the little drawing-room, 
 Madame Fauvel asked with some excitement, if he had 
 met Suzanne. 
 
 " Suzanne? Why, no ; has she gone out? It is going 
 to rain in a moment." 
 
 " She is at the Michauds, has been there I don't know 
 how long, poor little girl ! I was beginning to be anx- 
 ious when little Louis came to say that his grandmother 
 had died suddenly and Suzanne did not wish to leave his 
 sisters and himself until the return of their grandfather. 
 The horses are being harnessed : I hope Suzanne will not 
 start before the carriage arrives." 
 
 " What a brave little philanthropist," cried Monsieur 
 Fauvel. 
 
 " I think she carries philanthropy, and especially in- 
 dependence, a little too far," muttered Tremor. 
 
 Colette made a gesture of complete helplessness, and 
 Tremor began to talk with Robert about other things ; 
 nevertheless, when the carriage was ready, he rose. 
 
 " I am going for her," he said. 
 
 Mere Michaud was in her last sleep on the bed where 
 for years she had languished. The light of two candles 
 made the line of her profile quiver against the white, 
 flower-strewn pillow. Pere Michaud and Marcienne were
 
 APRIL'S LADY 151 
 
 kneeling in prayer beside the bed. Suzanne sat near the 
 closed window. She looked very pale. 
 
 Michel paused with uncovered head, and silent lips, 
 his face showing the deep emotion which is a prayer in 
 the presence of death. Then he went to Suzanne. 
 
 " I thank you for coming," she said in a low tone. "A 
 friend of Marcienne will watch to-night. I can go." 
 
 At the murmur of words, Pere Michaud and Marcienne 
 had risen. Both were weeping. Michel shook hands 
 with them, saying little, but speaking very kindly. He 
 had already promised the help which must be given to the 
 poor before they can weep in peace. 
 
 Now he thought only of Suzanne, whose pallor alarmed 
 him. Promptly, without her aiding him by a single 
 movement, he wrapped her in a cloak, and drew her out 
 of the house. 
 
 Still silent, Miss Severn leaned back in a corner of the 
 carriage. The horses started. 
 
 " What a sad day ! Colette was anxious about you." 
 
 Tremor had uttered the words without a thought of 
 reproach. With a gesture of extreme weariness Suzanne 
 stopped him. 
 
 " I did what I could to prevent anxiety. I sent little 
 Louis as soon as possible. I could not leave those three 
 children alone with their dying grandmother I did 
 what I could." 
 
 " Why, my dear child," cried Michel, " I am not re- 
 proaching you for anything. Only it seems to me that 
 you have relied too much upon your strength." 
 
 She uttered a heavy sigh then, in the same low tone she 
 had used before, she began to say that when she reached
 
 152 APRIL'S LADY 
 
 the Michauds', the old woman, who had been ill since 
 morning, was dying. Suzanne knew it at once. Louis 
 was sent for the village doctor, Pere Michaud, and the 
 Cure, but the end had been speedy and terrible. Before 
 Pere Michaud's return, all was over. Marcienne at first 
 refused to believe it. She kissed her grandmother, called 
 to her 
 
 The poor girl interrupted herself. 
 
 " Oh ! Michel," she murmured, " if you knew ! It 
 seemed as if I was losing my grandmother and 
 Uncle John for the second time, as if I felt alone, 
 so alone I " 
 
 A tearless sob shook her whole body, and turning sud- 
 denly, she hid her face against the side of the carriage. 
 
 " Susy, my poor little . . ." 
 
 With an instinctive movement Michel caught her from 
 the corner where she was trying to stifle her grief, and 
 pressed her closely to him. It was not a caress at 
 least consciously but the compassion of the strong for 
 the weak, the firm hand stretched to the fragile one. 
 
 Suzanne yielded to the embrace like a child. For 
 hours she had struggled against her memories, her 
 woman's nervousness. It was sweet to be in her turn 
 calmed with soothing words. 
 
 The carriage rolled on. From time to time, the light 
 from a house flashed through the windows ; the rain fell 
 steadily, mournfully. 
 
 " I was very nervous, very foolish," Suzanne at last 
 murmured. 
 
 And, releasing herself, she passed her hand over her 
 forehead and eyes.
 
 APRIL'S LADY 153 
 
 " You are better? " asked Michel anxiously. 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " You will promise to be sensible this evening, not to 
 think too much of things that give you pain, to try to 
 tell yourself that, though nothing can restore those whom 
 you have lost, you have new relatives who love you, watch 
 over you, wish you to be happy ? " 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 He gazed at her intently in the dusk, trying to divine 
 the expression of her face. The carriage stopped. 
 
 As both were crossing the vestibule, Suzanne said : 
 
 " I have not thanked you, Michel. And you have 
 been a real friend to me kind, so kind ! " 
 
 He stopped, and taking Suzanne's hand as he had done 
 in the carriage, held it clasped in his and, smiling faintly, 
 gazed at his fiancee with a somewhat strange look. 
 
 " It is you who are divinely kind," he replied.
 
 VI 
 
 ID 
 
 JlRAY, Mademoiselle, keep quiet a moment, just 
 
 one moment. It wearies you to pose? I understand 
 that, you are so vivacious } Oh ! deuce take it ; it is the 
 expression of the eyes that it is so impossible to catch ! " 
 
 " Come, drink your coffee, Languille ! " cried Tremor 
 in a tone of impatience. 
 
 " You are very ungrateful, Michel," said Susy re- 
 proachfully. " Is it your place to reproach Monsieur 
 Languille for his eagerness to finish my portrait ? " 
 
 " I am not reproaching him for anything, but I want 
 him to drink his coffee while it is hot. They are leaving 
 the table." 
 
 They really were leaving the table, but Languille was 
 just in the mood to work. Suzanne was posing, her hair 
 ruffled, her eyes sparkling, her lips quivering as if a 
 laugh or a song had just left them. Her fair com- 
 plexion, her grey linen gown, the roses in her hand, the 
 soft green of the climbing vines on the trellised piazza, 
 harmonised with the exquisite delicacy of all the tones. 
 
 For several minutes Miss Severn remained scrupulously 
 motionless, then she thought she had done enough. 
 
 " I am stifling, Monsieur Languille," she said, moving 
 in her willow chair. 
 
 " Take a moment's rest," said the artist. 
 
 In Paris and Rivailler Languille was a constant visitor 
 at the Fauvel home. Colette and Michel had always 
 
 known this friend of their uncle. 
 
 154
 
 APRIL'S LADY 155 
 
 Fifty-five years of age, not tall, and somewhat un- 
 gainly, Languille by no means realised the conventional 
 romantic type of the artist. Very social, he liked society 
 in general, but he preferred to everything else the com- 
 panionship of women, young or old, but gracious, intelli- 
 gent, and distinguished. Ah ! how fervently he admired 
 these charming friends, finding, as if by instinct, compli- 
 ments older than himself, which made them laugh and 
 yet flattered them. 
 
 Suzanne seemed exquisite to Languille. On seeing 
 her, he recalled the words of Shakespeare's Beatrice: 
 *' When I was born a star danced in the sky ! " 
 
 " She is youth, gaiety, purity itself," he said to Co- 
 lette. " The presence of this Miss Spring refreshes and 
 brightens me ! " 
 
 So he asked permission to give his friend Tremor the 
 portrait of this Miss Spring. 
 
 " Oh ! how sulky you look ! " said the young girl, pass- 
 ing in front of Michel, who was turning over some illus- 
 trated papers. 
 
 She went into the smoking room, took some coffee, and 
 appeared again on the threshold holding a bottle. 
 
 " I am going to offer you, from my white hand, a little 
 Chartreuse, Mr. Artist; you have deserved it, haven't 
 you ? " she said, with her droll little accent. 
 
 " If the favor of being served by you can be deserved, 
 Mademoiselle," replied Languille, who had just set down 
 his empty cup. 
 
 Michel had entered the smoking room too. 
 
 " Come and smoke a cigar, Languille," he cried. 
 
 " My dear friend, the cigar will make me ill."
 
 156 APRIL'S LADY 
 
 " A cigarette, then ? " 
 
 " No, thank you, I no longer smoke. And then, these 
 curls still lack lightness and I don't need the subject 
 just this moment," replied the painter, obstinately re- 
 turning to his water colours. 
 
 " But you have plenty of time." 
 
 " Come, Michel, let poor Languille alone," said the 
 laughing voice of Colette. " I mean he shall do as he 
 likes, idle or work, smoke or despise cigars at his pleasure. 
 He is at home at Castelflore." 
 
 " Thank you, dear Madame ; thank you ! " 
 
 He had already taken up his brushes again. Now he 
 addressed Suzanne, while Michel sat down in the smoking 
 room near the door. 
 
 " Good Michel, always attentive to his old friend! 
 Pose again one moment more, please, Mademoiselle. I 
 said yesterday to Monsieur Lancry, speaking of you, 
 * What a charming couple ! How delightful it is to find 
 engaged people tenderly united, people who love each 
 other.' A little more profile, I beg you." 
 
 " May I look ? Oh ! how pretty it is, much prettier 
 than I, Monsieur Languille ! " 
 
 " Oh, Mademoiselle, what heresy ! " 
 
 Well, I will be good." 
 
 " Thank you ; capital ! A sunbeam on your hair ! A 
 little to the left, there ! You take long rides with 
 Michel?" 
 
 " On horseback, yes, very often." 
 
 " It is charming. Rivailler has some exquisite spots ! 
 And Michel so thoroughly understands the simple nature 
 of the country."
 
 APRIL'S LADY 157 
 
 " Does Michel love simple nature so much ? " 
 
 " As an artist, Mademoiselle, and the artist is inter- 
 ested in a thousand things the ordinary observer does not 
 even notice. A blade of grass, a sunbeam, and his whole 
 being thrills ! Don't move your hand, for Heaven's 
 sake! Oh! Mademoiselle, what a mingled delight and 
 martyrdom it is to paint you ! What a delight to attain 
 the ideal merely by reproducing reality, but what a mar- 
 tyrdom to find this reality as impossible to render as the 
 ideal." 
 
 " You are really absurd over this portrait, my dear 
 friend ! " said Michel's voice, vainly trying to assume a 
 jesting tone. 
 
 " Michel is right, Languille," chimed in Monsieur 
 Fauvel very cordially ; *' don't desert us all for Susy ! " 
 
 " Wait, my friends, wait. Just one moment," an- 
 swered Languille. 
 
 " Michel," called Suzanne, " come and admire." 
 
 Michel obeyed, and though with a somewhat bad 
 grace, addressed a few compliments to the artist. 
 
 The clock struck half past two. 
 
 " The Pontmaurys and the Reaults are coming to play 
 croquet and tennis," exclaimed Suzanne. 
 
 Languille started. 
 
 " The Pontmaurys ! Madame Reault ! So soon ! I 
 did not know it! I must go and wash my hands," he 
 cried. " Mademoiselle, I thank you for your patience." 
 
 Taking Suzanne's hand, he raised it to his lips. 
 
 " You are angelic," he added, as he went away. 
 
 When he had gone Michel, with folded arms, planted 
 himself in front of Suzanne.
 
 158 APRIL'S LADY 
 
 " How many times have you heard the story of the 
 blade of grass and the sunbeam, how many times? " he 
 asked with a sort of violence. 
 
 " Why, this is the first time." 
 
 "The first time!" 
 
 " Certainly, the first time ! Poor, poor dear Lan- 
 guille, you treated him roughly. It is too bad. And 
 I love him very much." 
 
 " I love him just as much as you do. But we'll see, 
 when you have heard the blade of grass and the sunbeam 
 fifty times ! Besides, he has a way of talking to women 
 and young girls which I always disliked." 
 
 " Languille? " 
 
 " Yes, Languille. These eternal madrigals. And 
 that way of kissing your hand ! Was it proper? How- 
 ever, it amuses you, let us say no more about it." 
 
 Suzanne burst into a peal of laughter. 
 
 "Could you be jealous of Languille?" she cried. 
 " Of Languille, you ! Oh ! if it were again of " 
 
 " Of whom, if you please ? " interrupted Tremor, this 
 time exasperated. 
 
 The young girl looked at him with surprise. She 
 knew from what she had heard and even already in other 
 ways, Michel's fits of ill-humour, but this outburst in 
 regard to Languille bewildered her. 
 
 " I don't know," she answered ; " never mind whom, 
 but oh ! poor man, he thought us so united ! " 
 
 " I presume it is no affair of his whether we are united 
 or not." 
 
 The Pontmaurys' automobile rolled noisily into the 
 courtyard. Miss Severn rose.
 
 APRIL'S LADY 159 
 
 " It is the first time we have quarrelled," she said with 
 dignity. " I thought you were more courteous." 
 
 Susy had no leisure to devote to reflection; Madame 
 Reault arrived shortly after the Pontmaurys, and she took 
 her friends at once to the water colour. 
 
 " It is pretty, isn't it ? He has made my mouth too 
 large, but it is pretty." 
 
 " It is charming, Suzanne, a little masterpiece. What 
 a delicate artist this Languille is ! " 
 
 Suzanne let herself drop on the bamboo sofa, laughing 
 crazily. 
 
 " Therese, my dear Therese, Michel is jealous of Lan- 
 guille ! " 
 
 " Of Languille," repeated Madame Reault, laughing 
 too. 
 
 Miss Severn gaily related what had occurred. 
 
 " Still, Michel is really angry," she concluded, with a 
 less triumphant manner. " He was wrong, so I shall 
 make no advances and, as he certainly will not, it will be 
 comical." 
 
 Madame Reault fixed her velvety eyes on the young 
 girl. 
 
 " May I be very frank in my friendship for you, 
 Susy?" 
 
 "Oh! yes." 
 
 " Well then, don't try to establish your share of the 
 wrong, and Monsieur Tremor's. Just slip your hand 
 into your fiance's and say : ' I think you were a little un- 
 just but, without intending it, I caused you pain, and I 
 cannot bear the idea.' You'll see that he will no longer 
 be angry."
 
 160 APRIL'S LADY 
 
 " Yet " the young girl began. 
 
 Colette, Languille, and the Pontmaurys, then Mon- 
 sieur Fauvel and Michel came out on the piazza, and 
 farther confidential conversation became impossible. 
 
 " I thought you were going back to Saint-Sylvere," 
 said Suzanne as Michel also turned toward the croquet 
 grounds. 
 
 " I have changed my mind," he answered drily. 
 
 In the course of the game, as Languille forgot his 
 turn then, confused by Michel's censure, missed an arch, 
 Gaston de Pontmaury commented on the young man's 
 ill-humour. 
 
 " The best friends quarrel at croquet," answered 
 Suzanne. 
 
 Did Michel really feel resentment against the innocent 
 Languille. Susy, not at all sulky herself, detested it in 
 others, and that evening when Michel dined at Castel- 
 flore, the idea which had amused her roused her vexation. 
 Let Languille annoy Michel, that was allowable, but that 
 Michel should vent his irritation upon Suzanne was 
 abominable! Conclusion: Why had not this tiresome 
 Languille stayed at home? 
 
 The young girl thought sorrowfully of the gay, happy 
 month which had followed her fiance's return from Nor- 
 way. She remembered Michel's affectionate kindness the 
 day of poor Mere Michaud's death, and the new feeling 
 of absolute confidence which had softened her grief. 
 Then, almost instantly, everything changed. Day by 
 day Michel became more sullen and also more in- 
 clined to society. He now rarely shunned the recep- 
 tions at Castelflore, but the more he went into society the
 
 APRIL'S LADY 161 
 
 less he appeared to like it. It was easy to see that if 
 certain persons as, for instance, Jacques Reault and his 
 wife, found favor in his eyes, other intimate members of 
 the Castelflore circle had inspired a sort of antipathy. 
 He had taken a dislike to Paul Reault, never missed an 
 opportunity of contradicting poor Raymond Desplans, 
 and could not endure Languille. 
 
 The merest trifle irritated Michel. The little 
 " Americanisms " he had formerly overlooked were con- 
 demned as unseemly eccentricities. And never an af- 
 fectionate glance, never a compliment, never a pleas- 
 ant word. What Michel wanted was a very quiet, very 
 reserved little wife, a comrade, a friend, yes ; but a friend 
 who lived and breathed for him alone. Michel's prom- 
 ised wife was pretty, and gay and attractive, and she 
 would make herself beautiful, and she "would laugh, and 
 she would be admired! What harm was there in that! 
 
 To be angry about Languille ! 
 
 " We must, we must make peace," Suzanne repeated 
 to herself, the more unwilling to let the sun set upon 
 Tremor's wrath because the young man was to leave the 
 next morning for a three days' absence. 
 
 " But how are we to be reconciled? How? " she con- 
 tinued to herself. 
 
 Poor kind Therese! How little she knew Michel. 
 
 Yet after dinner when Tremor, as usual, went out 
 on the terrace to smoke, she joined him, leaning near 
 him on the balustrade. 
 
 " What am I to do? " she thought. And she again 
 remembered Therese's advice. It would have been easy 
 to follow. Michel was standing with one hand rest-
 
 162 APRIL'S LADY 
 
 ing on the stone; there was nothing more simple than 
 to do as Therese had said. For an instant Susy was 
 tempted to risk it. 
 
 She laid her hand within a few inches of the young 
 man's. Oh! dear, they seemed made to clasp each 
 other. And after all, it would not be the first time that 
 the little one found itself enclosed in the large one. . . . 
 Suzanne again hesitated, but the courage she longed 
 for would not come. No, she must try some other way. 
 So she bravely made the first commonplace remark that 
 crossed her mind. 
 
 " Michel," she said, " can I read Theuriet's novel? " 
 
 " Which one, my dear ? Theuriet has written a great 
 many," answered Michel drily. 
 
 " The last one," replied the young girl pleasantly. 
 
 " Well? " 
 
 " I asked you if I could read it ; Colette reproaches 
 me for not keeping up with anything." 
 
 " I don't know ; I have not read it." 
 
 Michel had begun to smoke again; at the end of a 
 few minutes Suzanne continued: 
 
 " You know that Pepa is sick ? " 
 
 "Your mare? Yes, I saw her myself to-day, but it 
 will be nothing serious." 
 
 Another somewhat lengthy silence. 
 
 " Michel, I think Madame Reault perfectly lovely ; 
 the more I know her, the better I like her." 
 
 " Ah ! so much the better." 
 
 " We shall see a great deal of them in Paris, shall we 
 not, when when we are married ? " 
 
 "Who?"
 
 APRIL'S LADY 103 
 
 " The Reaults." 
 
 " If you wish." 
 
 Time was advancing, but not Suzanne's affairs. 
 Michel was soon to leave. The young girl vaguely felt 
 that something, some bond would be broken between 
 her future husband and herself, if they separated in this 
 way. 
 
 " Michel," she said suddenly, " how unjust you were 
 to poor Languille at croquet ! " 
 
 " He is crazy to play and doesn't know how to hold 
 a mallet," replied the young man, as if to win games of 
 croquet had been the most important interest in his life. 
 
 " I did not tell you, but we needed an eighth person." 
 
 " A fine reason ! I could have played two balls." 
 
 " Come, Michel," said the young girl gently, " con- 
 fess that you do not care so much about croquet as all 
 that, and that you were in a bad humour." 
 
 Michel flung his cigarette away impatiently. 
 
 " Suzanne, we have already quarrelled once on account 
 of this of Languille. I grant that I had a rather 
 foolish touch of anger, but you misconstrued my words." 
 
 " Very well, let us not discuss the matter. Only I 
 should not wish to have any cloud between us for so 
 trivial a cause, Michel." 
 
 " Susy, what vexed me was your saying that I was 
 jealous. Jealous, I, of Languille! Besides, I am not 
 of a jealous disposition," he added calmly, almost be- 
 lieving it for the moment. 
 
 " Well, everything is forgotten, isn't it ? We are 
 friends ? " 
 
 "Friends, Susy."
 
 164 APRIL'S LADY 
 
 He took and pressed the hand she extended, so the 
 conversation ended as it should have begun, but it was 
 not at all the same thing, and Susy felt it. 
 
 Michel's reflections, as he walked back to the tower 
 of Saint-Sylvere, were anything but optimistic. The 
 evening he saw his fiancee beside the death bed of a poor 
 woman, his own heart had seemed very narrow beside 
 this child's, so widely open to human sympathy. But 
 the next day the young girl who had thanked him so 
 sweetly in the vestibule of Castelflore had danced the 
 " skirt dance," was passionately fond of pretty gowns 
 and waltzing, and would never have married a man with- 
 out a fortune. 
 
 To understand her better Michel had desired to see 
 Suzanne in society. Now he was fully convinced. 
 Miss Severn was only a coquette, an infernal little co- 
 quette, intoxicated with delight at her own charms. 
 Michel abhorred coquettes, and had unconsciously al- 
 lowed Susy to perceive something of this feeling. He 
 had astonished and vexed the young girl and had 
 she not imagined that he was jealous! Jealous of 
 Languille, the little fool! 
 
 Meanwhile, Michel was walking toward Saint-Syl- 
 vere, weary of Suzanne, and terribly weary of himself. 
 And he regretted his quarrel with Miss Severn and, 
 above all, the peace of last year. 
 
 What did it matter if Suzanne was a flirt? Had he 
 not suspected it even at the time of their affectionate 
 comradeship? Was not Colette a coquette, too? Had 
 he, like other men, chosen his life-companion? No, a 
 stupid fatality had forced her upon him.
 
 APRIL'S LADY 165 
 
 So he would let Suzanne do as she pleased. As for 
 worrying over a little brainless fool, trying to reform 
 her education or her character never ! 
 
 And after having long pursued this circle of ideas, 
 Michel, believing himself wiser, went to Paris and spent 
 three days there.
 
 VII 
 
 4-JURING these three days, drives, visits, dinners fol- 
 lowed so closely that Susy had little time for thought. 
 
 The morning of the fourth one, Colette decided to 
 invite the Reaults to dine that evening. Suzanne took 
 charge of the matter, and refusing any escort, as usual, 
 set off seated on the high cushion of her little carriage, 
 driving the ponies herself. 
 
 When Miss Severn opened the door of the Reault 
 drawing-room, her eyes sparkled like stars under her 
 big hat lined with white tulle. 
 
 " From what pretty picture painted at the beginning 
 of the century have you descended, Mademoiselle ? " 
 asked Jacques Reault gaily. 
 
 "Flatterer!" 
 
 She held out her hand to Jacques with a smile, then 
 she saw Raymond Desplans, Madame Sainval's cousin, 
 and there was another clasp of hands and another smile. 
 
 " How is Therese ? " Suzanne asked. " No, thank 
 you, I won't sit down, I am going upstairs. But first 
 learn the cause of my morning call: Monsieur and 
 Madame Fauvel beg Monsieur and Madame Reault, 
 Mademoiselle Chaze, and Monsieur Paul Reault to 
 do them the honour of dining at Castelflore this even- 
 ing." 
 
 Jacques hesitated. 
 
 " Your invitation is terribly tempting, Mademoiselle, 
 
 yet I fear we must give up the pleasure." 
 
 166
 
 APRIL'S LADY 167 
 
 "Why?" 
 
 " We dined at Chesnaie Friday, at Castelflore Satur- 
 day, with the Rieges Sunday, and Monday we had the 
 pleasure of receiving our friends here. Now this is 
 Tuesday." 
 
 " People go to the country to rest," observed Desplans 
 philosophically. 
 
 " At least they have that praiseworthy intention," 
 Monsieur Reault replied, " and that is why I think it 
 would not be very sensible for Therese and Simone to 
 go out again this evening. Alas ! my responsibilities as 
 head of the family compel me to be very frank." 
 
 " Far too much so, sir, but I will see Therese and, if 
 she refuses, I will quarrel with you." 
 
 As Miss Severn went toward the door, she glanced 
 toward Raymond Desplans. 
 
 " We have received Madame Sainval's invitation ; 
 what a delightful idea, this green and mauve ball ! " 
 
 " Mauve for the young married women, pale green for 
 the young girls, green and mauve for the room decora- 
 tions, green and mauve for the German." 
 
 " Oh ! there will be a German ! " said Suzanne, turn- 
 ing back. 
 
 " A delightful German, Mademoiselle ; I can speak of 
 it with more certainty because I am to have the pleasant 
 task of leading it with my cousin Marguerite." 
 
 " Dear me, what fun it must be to lead a German ! " 
 cried Suzanne, so earnestly that both men began to 
 laugh. 
 
 " Oh, Mademoiselle," said Desplans, " if I could only 
 have chosen my partner! But since that could not be,
 
 168 APRIL'S LADY 
 
 will you do me the honour of giving me your first 
 waltz?" 
 
 " Willingly." 
 
 Then, shaking her finger at Monsieur Reault, who 
 rushed forward to attend her to Therese's room : 
 
 " Stay, stay, I know the way," she said ; " I want to 
 talk with Therese alone ! " 
 
 But Madame Reault made almost the same reply as 
 her husband. 
 
 " Four days in succession and we have led this life 
 for two months. It is terrible, my dear." 
 
 " Colette will scold me, I warn you." 
 
 " Has anyone ever been able to scold you?'' 
 
 " Of course there are people who scold me ; think of 
 Michel." 
 
 "Oh! I don't believe that!" 
 
 " You are wrong. Michel can be very cross. You 
 saw that with Languille. Michel is whimsical. For 
 instance, he can say nothing good of his friend Des- 
 plans." 
 
 " Oh ! Suzanne, frankly, the only thing that surprises 
 me is that Monsieur Desplans could ever have been a 
 friend of Monsieur Tremor. He is a nonentity ! " 
 
 " Nonentity ? " said the young girl. " Oh ! he isn't 
 a genius, but he is droll ; he amuses me." 
 
 " Suzanne, confess that he admires you a great deal, 
 and tells you so a little? " 
 
 " Perhaps so ! What of it ? There are people more 
 clever than Desplans who torment me." 
 
 " Could you be a little coquettish, Susy? "
 
 APRIL'S LADY 169 
 
 Miss Severn lowered her long lashes and looking 
 through them, sighed : " It is entertaining." 
 
 " And if that is the reason Monsieur Tremor does not 
 like Monsieur Desplans ? " 
 
 " Doesn't like ! Likes him no longer, my dear ! 
 Pshaw ! I won't be rude to please Michel. Ah ! if I 
 should turn my back on people who annoy me! Ma- 
 dame de Lorge, for instance." 
 
 " She is insignificant." 
 
 " Say affected, impertinent, ill-bred. And she thinks 
 herself pretty, and she paints, and she wears wigs. I 
 don't understand how Colette can receive that woman. 
 Well, Michel thinks her witty." 
 
 " I don't quite see, as far as her wit is concerned, how 
 her wigs . . ." 
 
 " Yes, yes ; oh ! she sets me on edge." 
 
 Susy bit her lips and fidgeted with the handle of her 
 parasol. 
 
 " But Therese, my dear, I didn't come to talk about 
 that horrible Madame de Lorge; I must have you to- 
 night." 
 
 The young girl redoubled her entreaties, but Therese 
 always answered gently : 
 
 " Jacques said this, Jacques prefers that." 
 
 " Then you obey your Jacques blindly," cried Miss 
 Severn at last, her arguments exhausted. 
 
 " Blindly, oh ! that depends. . . . Only, I never 
 like to vex him." 
 
 " You are wrong to spoil him so." 
 
 When Suzanne found herself on the way back to
 
 170 APRIL'S LADY 
 
 Castelflore, her mind went over the visit with an irrita- 
 tion she would have found it difficult to analyse. 
 
 " Monsieur Reault is absurd. And Therese agreeing 
 with him! Who knows. Perhaps she is charmed to 
 spend an evening alone with her Jacques." 
 
 Evidently vexed, Miss Severn dealt rather a sharp 
 blow of the whip on the shining flanks of her ponies. 
 
 " Desplans is very nice," the roving mind went on, 
 " whatever Therese says. A little affected ? Pshaw ! 
 Who could throw the first stone at him nowadays? It 
 is true he thinks me pretty. So do many others. I let 
 myself be admired. Therese calls it coquetry. It's all 
 very well for Therese to talk. I am sure Jacques pays 
 her more compliments all by himself than Desplans, 
 Pontmaury, and the others give me. Could Michel be 
 jealous of them all? Are people jealous when they do 
 not love ? And Michel does not love me. Oh ! no ! I 
 don't love him either but I am not jealous." 
 
 The ponies trotted with difficulty, checked by the ruts 
 of the grass-grown road. Suzanne drew them up into 
 a walk. 
 
 " It is strange," the young girl's thoughts went on. 
 " Therese is constantly obliged to economise, to deny 
 herself one thing or another, and yet I have never seen 
 a happier face." 
 
 The little horses seemed so tired that Suzanne stopped 
 them, but at a rustling of the leaves the ponies pricked 
 up their ears. 
 
 " Mademoiselle, I'll wager you took me for Robin 
 Hood." 
 
 At these words gaily flung into the silence, Miss
 
 APRIL'S LADY 171 
 
 Severn turned and saw Paul Reault, holding a pencil 
 and a sheet of paper. Bits of moss clung to his light 
 clothes. 
 
 He was a tall, dark young fellow, who had already 
 committed many extravagances, but they had not cor- 
 rupted the loyal heart that beat in Paul Reault's breast. 
 Neither shy nor foppish, neither humble nor vain, he 
 was not ignorant of his good qualities, and knew his 
 faults. 
 
 At Cannes, charmed by the fresh beauty of the little 
 American and somewhat encouraged by her independent 
 manners, he had at once paid court to her ; then one day 
 Susy had laughed at him and they had since been the 
 best of friends. When Paul met Miss Severn at Rivail- 
 ler, and heard of her engagement, he had sincerely con- 
 gratulated her. 
 
 " Well," cried the young girl, amused at this appari- 
 tion. " One would think you had been rolling in the 
 hay-mow. Dear me! Have you just descended from 
 Parnassus ? " 
 
 " Alas, Mademoiselle, no folly need surprise you on 
 my part." 
 
 " You are in love ? " 
 
 " Exactly, Mademoiselle, in love as I have never been 
 in all my life." 
 
 " Poor fellow ; it is lamentable ! And I am sure this is 
 at least the twentieth time, since you reached the age 
 of un-reason." 
 
 " Don't laugh. This time, I should be capable of 
 dying." 
 
 " Oh ! come ! I should like to see it."
 
 172 APRIL'S LADY 
 
 "Too kind. But you are wrong to jest; it is very 
 serious." 
 
 " I confess that the symptoms are alarming. How 
 many cantos are there in your poem ? " 
 
 " It is not a poem, Mademoiselle ; it is a sonnet," re- 
 plied Paul with dignity. " Unfortunately, sonnets are 
 usually composed of fourteen lines, and I have found 
 only four. Now I have been at work since eight o'clock 
 this morning. These four lines elaborated in two hours 
 would tend to show that I lack aptitude." 
 
 Miss Severn laughed irreverently. 
 
 " Two hours ! Why, it is nearly noon. You should 
 say four. A line an hour ! That is promising." 
 
 " Noon ! Ah ! Confound it," groaned Paul. " And 
 I am to lunch at Monsieur Lancry's. Madame de Lorge 
 will look daggers at me." 
 
 " Aha ! Madame de Lorge ! Then the sonnet ? . . ." 
 
 " Oh ! Heavens, no, Mademoiselle ! But I am in a 
 scrape." 
 
 The young man's face was so amusingly penitent that 
 Susy fairly lost her breath in a fresh burst of laughter. 
 
 " I am going within fifty yards of Monsieur Lancry's ; 
 shall I set you down at the cross-roads ? " she said, when 
 she had partially recovered. 
 
 "Shall you? With the utmost delight! But look 
 at me; one would think I had been sleeping in a 
 barn." 
 
 " Nonsense ! You need only roll your eyes and mur- 
 mur any piece of foolishness in a sweet voice. Madame 
 de Lorge is not exacting." 
 
 Paul shook his coat to free it from the clinging grass.
 
 APRIL'S LADY 173 
 
 then after a slight hesitation, took his seat in the little 
 carriage. 
 
 " Do you want me to drive? " 
 
 " No, I like to do it," she replied, touching the ponies. 
 " Now what have you to repeat to me, young poet ? " 
 
 Paul seemed to be calling up his thoughts. 
 
 " Your eyes speak not, oh! have they naught to say, 
 
 while 
 
 Calm and tranquil, they thus meet my own? 
 I hear you sing, I see your . . ." 
 
 " Radiant smile, of course ! Well, you see, poetry is 
 only endurable when it is very fine . . ." 
 
 "Oh!" 
 
 " Is she blonde? " 
 
 " No." 
 
 " Brunette? " 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " Ah ! Now I've caught you. Is she a married wom- 
 an in society ? " she went on with perfect composure. 
 
 " Oh ! Mademoiselle ! " exclaimed the young man, in 
 a comically shocked tone. 
 
 "Yes or no?" 
 
 " It is a young girl in society, Mademoiselle." 
 
 " A young girl. Then you are going to marry her? " 
 
 " Alas ! They refuse to let me." 
 
 " Well, that doesn't surprise me." 
 
 " Much obliged to you." 
 
 "IssheinRivailler?" 
 
 " Yes, Mademoiselle."
 
 174 APRIL'S LADY 
 
 " Tall? " 
 
 " Oh, no." 
 
 " Is it Marguerite Sainval ? " 
 
 " No." 
 
 "Ah! Brunette, you said? Pretty?" 
 
 " Lovely." 
 
 "Sixteen?" 
 
 " Exactly." 
 
 " I have guessed. It is Simone." 
 
 Paul uttered a heavy sigh. 
 
 " Yes, it is Simone." 
 
 " Well, so much the better. It would be very nice if 
 you should marry her." 
 
 " Nice ? I should think it would be nice ! But you 
 don't know Jacques." 
 
 " What is the ob j ection ? Your pranks ? " Susy went 
 on with the same frankness. 1 ' 
 
 " Principally my idleness. He thinks that if I had 
 any regular occupation, I should not have time to com- 
 mit so many follies. So I promised to work but, like 
 Saint Thomas, he wants to see before believing. And 
 I don't feel much encouragement. There is the story of 
 the English girl," Paul murmured as if in spite of him- 
 self. 
 
 "What English girl? " 
 
 " One I ran away with last winter. An authorised 
 elopement. We were to be married." 
 
 " That's a fine proceeding ! What a queer idea to 
 elope with an English girl! How did your adventure 
 end? " 
 
 " Very simply. Penelope her name was Penelope
 
 APRIL'S LADY 175 
 
 and I perceived that our characters lacked affinity. 
 So we exchanged touching farewells, and she went back 
 to her island. Only Jacques got wind of the affair 
 which, unfortunately, is somewhat recent. So a month 
 ago, when I told him of my love for his sister-in-law 
 
 " He sent you walking? " 
 
 " ' Cain, what have you done with your English girl ? 
 I will never, you understand, never, give you 
 this poor child before you have applied to yourself the 
 test of work . . . And if you dare to say to her 
 one word of your feelings, you shall not set foot inside 
 my house.' " Am I unfortunate enough, Miss Susy ? " 
 said the young man, suddenly changing his tone. 
 
 Suzanne was looking at him with genuine compassion, 
 mingled with the interest that the most commonplace love 
 affair always awakens in the least romantic woman. 
 
 " You will help ; you will intercede for me ? " Paul 
 continued. 
 
 " With all my heart, if I can, and you are steady." 
 
 " As a statue, you'll see. This little Simone has 
 transformed me. Ah ! if I could think all day long that 
 her smile awaited me at home, I swear that I should be 
 capable of working, who knows perhaps of becoming 
 someone of distinction. I should have but one goal, one 
 desire, one dream in the wide world: she! always she! 
 And they will not believe me." 
 
 Suzanne listened, a little irritation still in her heart. 
 
 " These lovers are decidedly tiresome," she said to her- 
 self. 
 
 They reached the cross-roads. He descended. 
 
 " You are my good fairy, Miss Susy. Thanks to
 
 176 APRIL'S LADY 
 
 you, Madame de Lorge will be more merciful; ah! one 
 last request ! You will not tell Michel my secrets ? " 
 
 "Why?" 
 
 " Oh ! Because I know Michel. He would side with 
 Jacques. ' Work, my good fellow, or console yourself. 
 People don't die of love, believe it ! ' "
 
 VIII 
 
 J T 
 
 AM.OW crazy this Paul is, but how comical too!" 
 thought Susy. " And she blushed when I asked if she 
 ever thought of her future husband. Here are two 
 more people who love each other and will be happy, like 
 Jacques and Therese." 
 
 The ponies stopped. 
 
 Suzanne knew that Michel was to arrive by train the 
 night before, but she was a little surprised to see him 
 waiting for her in front of the entrance of Castelflore, 
 his face decidedly sullen. 
 
 " Good morning," she said, after the instant's sur- 
 prise, taking the hand Tremor offered to help her de- 
 scend, and so cheerily that he did not venture at first to 
 express his ill-humour. 
 
 In the drawing-room he made up for this restraint. 
 
 " When will you drop this habit of going out alone, 
 which I detest ? " 
 
 " I love it," she answered calmly, standing in front of 
 the mirror to take off her pretty white hat. 
 
 " And, besides, you are late ; Colette was anxious." 
 
 Susy turned, her hat in her hand. 
 
 "And you?" 
 
 *' I also, of course. I have been here three-quarters 
 of an hour." 
 
 Suzanne, without answering, went into the dining-room 
 where Monsieur Fauvel, Colette, and the children had 
 
 just taken their seats at the table. 
 
 177
 
 178 APRIL'S LADY 
 
 " I ask your pardon," she said, going to her place. 
 
 " We ought to ask yours," replied Monsieur Fauvel. 
 " Nysette was famished. You are only ten minutes late." 
 
 " What delayed you, dear? " enquired Colette. 
 
 Suzanne laughed. 
 
 " At first I loitered a little and forgot the time, I must 
 confess. And then I met with quite an adventure. I 
 picked Paul Reault up on the way and took him to 
 Madame de Lorge's, where he was to lunch." 
 
 Michel abruptly laid down his fork. 
 
 " You took Paul Reault in your carriage? " 
 
 " Of course, in my carriage." 
 
 " Oh ! you think it proper for a young girl to drive 
 under a young man's escort ? " 
 
 His voice trembled with ill-repressed anger. 
 
 " It is always done in America. And a young girl's 
 reputation is sufficiently sacred not to depend upon the 
 observance of more or less idiotic conventions," replied 
 Suzanne in the same tone. 
 
 " We are not in America." 
 
 " Come, a little calmness," said Monsieur Fauvel 
 who, however, could not help laughing. 
 
 " Calmness," cried Susy, " when he " 
 
 " Don't be vexed, my dear little cousin," the lawyer 
 continued. " In theory, you are right, but practically, 
 Michel is not wrong If you will reflect for half 
 a minute, you will agree with me." 
 
 Susy was appeased, and Michel looked out of the 
 window with an air of resignation. 
 
 " Well, are the Reaults coming? " asked Colette. 
 
 " No. They have been out four evenings in succes-
 
 APRIL'S LADY 179 
 
 sion, and Jacques is afraid Therese may be too much 
 tired." 
 
 " That is absurd," broke in Michel, who at this time 
 lacked all forbearance. 
 
 " Absurd ! " Susy repeated, her wrath stirring again. 
 " Absurd that a husband should think of his wife's 
 health?" 
 
 " In this particular case, yes." 
 
 " They are turtle doves. What do you expect ? " said 
 Monsieur Fauvel. 
 
 " They have been married six months ; it's time, it 
 seems to me ' 
 
 " To stop cooing ? " asked Monsieur Fauvel. " I'll 
 wait for you to try it, my fine fellow. We'll see if you 
 do not coo like the rest." 
 
 " I don't believe it," muttered Michel. 
 
 A wave of color swept over Susy's face, and tears of 
 rage sprang into her eyes, but by a miracle of will she 
 prevented their fall, and in an exaggeratedly quiet voice, 
 said: 
 
 " Desplans was at the Reaults." 
 
 " I suppose you could not say Monsieur Desplans? " 
 remarked Michel. 
 
 " Oh! as you please! I said Jacques just now, I be- 
 lieve, without shocking you." 
 
 " Yes, but that was not quite the same thing," put in 
 Monsieur Fauvel's conciliatory voice. 
 
 " Then I saw Monsieur Desplans, who talked with me 
 about the ball." 
 
 " Really ! " cried Colette, supremely interested. And 
 they began upon the mauve and green gowns.
 
 180 APRIL'S LADY 
 
 After luncheon as Suzanne told Colette she was going 
 down to sit on the river bank, Michel asked permission to 
 accompany her. He seemed to have forgotten his dis- 
 pleasure and talked of an apartment he had visited in the 
 Quartier Marboeuf, of an interview with his upholsterer, 
 and a dining-room decoration. 
 
 They sat down at the foot of the slope. The Serpen- 
 tine flowed at their feet ; grey green willows bordered the 
 opposite shore. Fish were swimming in the limpid water. 
 Suzanne drew figures with the tip of her parasol on the 
 sand. She seemed to wish to say something : 
 
 " Michel," she began at last, " do you still sometimes 
 think of that person that woman who caused you so 
 much sorrow ? " 
 
 Michel started, but answered quietly. 
 
 '* No, I have already told you that this love had been 
 a great madness of which I am cured." 
 
 She was silent, then said timidly, " Michel, was she 
 very beautiful? " 
 
 Michel looked at his fiancee with a somewhat ironical 
 smile. 
 
 " Why do you ask that question ? " 
 
 " For nothing, just to know." 
 
 " If I should tell you that she was not equal to you, 
 what would you gain by it? " 
 
 " I am sure that she was very beautiful, far more so 
 than I," murmured Suzanne, without raising her eyes. 
 " And you loved her passionately, didn't you ? " 
 
 " Yes, passionately," he repeated vaguely. " I should 
 be grateful if you would forget this story, as I have 
 myself."
 
 APRIL'S LADY 181 
 
 After a silence, he continued, trying to smile : 
 
 " Since you allude to my past, I am inclined to ques- 
 tion you a little about yours. You are neither romantic 
 nor sentimental yourself, but I am certain that your 
 engagement brought despair to a number of people." 
 
 " The two gentlemen who offered themselves to me this 
 winter, then? I told you about them. And upon my 
 word, I have little confidence in the persistence of their 
 despair." 
 
 " But you had suitors in America? " 
 
 He laughed, but his watchful eyes did not jest like 
 his voice. 
 
 " Oh, of course, flirtations and not so many as you 
 suppose." 
 
 " And no one wanted to marry you ? " 
 
 The young girl's face brightened and her laugh 
 sounded more musical than ever. 
 
 " A New Orleans merchant. Oh ! how queer he was ! 
 Neither Uncle John nor I liked him. And then, when I 
 was eight or ten years old, I believe, I knew a very nice 
 little boy who always wanted to be my husband, because 
 he liked to play with my dolls." 
 
 " And this is all? " 
 
 Suzanne raised her clear eyes. 
 
 " Why, yes," she said, " as you remarked just now, I 
 am not sentimental, and few people are in my coun- 
 try." 
 
 Michel frowned slightly. 
 
 " Perhaps that is a pity." 
 
 " A pity ! " 
 
 " If anyone there had loved you very tenderly, per-
 
 182 APRIL'S LADY 
 
 haps you might have been touched with compassion. 
 Released from your promise, for your grandmother 
 would have desired your happiness, you would have mar- 
 ried in Philadelphia and it would have been better." 
 
 Susy suddenly dropped her sunshade. 
 
 " Why ? " she asked in a stifled tone. 
 
 " You would have been happier, I think, and " 
 
 " And you also ? " 
 
 " I did not say that," he cried quickly. 
 
 Without answering, Suzanne rose. 
 
 " The sun is coming," she said, stooping for the para- 
 sol ; " I am going in." 
 
 But, much disturbed, he followed her. 
 
 " I swear that I did not mean that," he repeated. " I 
 was thinking solely of you." 
 
 Seizing both her hands, he forced her to stop. 
 
 " Suzanne," he commanded, " I insist that you should 
 believe me." 
 
 " I do believe you," she replied coldly. " Let me go, 
 Michel. Colette is expecting guests ; I must change my 
 dress." 
 
 Colette's boudoir, which separated the young wife's 
 chamber from Suzanne's, was deserted, but Susy did not 
 seek her cousin. Her head feeling heavy, she hurriedly 
 drew out her tortoise-shell pins, and her hair rolled over 
 her shoulders. As she glanced into the mirror, she saw 
 two little tears gliding down her cheeks and angrily 
 wiped them away. 
 
 Other tears followed, and Susy's impatience increased 
 with their number. To have red eyes when one is about 
 to receive guests is not pleasant; Colette would ask ex-
 
 APRIL'S LADY 183 
 
 planations. Michel would be triumphant; the maid 
 might come in at any moment. 
 
 " Cruel, cruel, cruel," she repeated. 
 
 Someone knocked at the door. 
 
 " May I come in, Colette? " 
 
 Good Heavens ! Michel's voice ! Suzanne wanted to 
 run away, then pride nailed her to her place and, having 
 flung her little handkerchief on a table : 
 
 " Come in," she called with perfect calmness, forget- 
 ting her unbound hair. 
 
 " I thought I should find Colette," the young man 
 explained. " I wished to say good-bye ; I am going 
 away. And then I wanted a book that was a little 
 new." 
 
 Suzanne assumed a careless manner. 
 
 " Here is one on the table." 
 
 " Have you read it ? " 
 
 " I ? Oh ! I read so few novels ! " 
 
 Michel took a volume haphazard. 
 
 " Good evening," said the young girl ; " I have only 
 time to dress." 
 
 She had already reached the door, when Michel asked 
 a question whose triviality almost embarrassed him. 
 
 " What are you going to wear? " 
 
 Suzanne seemed surprised. 
 
 " My mauve gown." 
 
 He hesitated, then said : 
 
 " Your eyes look a little tired a little red, this 
 evening." 
 
 " My eyes red ! Not in the least ; why should I have 
 red eyes ? "
 
 184 APRIL'S LADY 
 
 " I don't know. I state a fact. Perhaps it was the 
 dust ; you were driving on the highroad this morning." 
 
 " No doubt! So I am ugly? It is amusing." 
 
 Michel involuntarily smiled. With her unbound hair, 
 not very long and quite curly, framing her young face, 
 she looked like a charming little page. 
 
 " Why, no," he replied, yet very laconically. 
 
 Then he went back again. 
 
 " Susy, I should like to explain what I said just now." 
 
 She affected great astonishment. 
 
 " Just now? " 
 
 " Yes, I don't know what you understood, but really 
 I was thinking only of excusing my bad temper. I am 
 captious, very quick, but I hurt you, and " 
 
 He seemed uncomfortable or unhappy, and it must be 
 confessed that Susy enjoyed this embarrassment or sor- 
 row. 
 
 " You did not hurt me," she said deliberately, only in 
 a slightly offended tone. " Besides, you asserted almost 
 immediately that you had not intended to say anything 
 to wound me, and I believed you. I had forgotten the 
 trifle." 
 
 "Really?" 
 
 " Really." 
 
 " I am very glad of it," said Michel, in a tone from 
 which one would have inferred precisely the contrary. 
 " Good-bye, Susy." 
 
 He went away as if with regret. The sight of the 
 poor eyes reddened by the dust had grieved him and 
 he had seen a little damp handkerchief on the table. 
 
 An hour after, as Colette was reading in the drawing-
 
 APRIL'S LADY 185 
 
 room, Suzanne sat down at her feet in the attitude of a 
 coaxing child. 
 
 " Colette," she said, " I should like to know that 
 woman whom whom Michel loved. Do you be- 
 lieve he still thinks of her? " 
 
 " What an idea ! " cried Colette. 
 
 " Has he ever seen her again ? " 
 
 " No, not for years." 
 
 " She was very beautiful, wasn't she? " 
 
 Colette made a face. She easily denied her gods. 
 
 " A matter of taste, you know. She was brilliant, 
 yes." 
 
 " She did not love Michel. Why?" 
 
 " That is very surprising, isn't it? " answered Colette 
 laughing. 
 
 " Oh ; I don't say that at all," protested the young 
 girl eagerly, " but since he loved her so much " 
 
 " She was not worthy of him, that is all." 
 
 " Colette," said Suzanne again, resting her head on her 
 cousin's lap, " do you think I am worthy of him ? " 
 
 This time Madame Fauvel took the young girl's face 
 between her hands and kissed her tenderly. 
 
 " Little goose ! Should I have desired your marriage, 
 if you were not worthy of him ? " 
 
 " I should like to know that woman's name, Colette." 
 
 At first Colette absolutely refused to talk about that 
 old story and that detestable person, then she yielded, 
 named the detestable person, and told the old story in 
 full. 
 
 " I saw the beautiful comtesse at Pannes this spring, 
 without talking with her, of course."
 
 186 APRIL'S LADY 
 
 Susy seemed to be following an idea. " Then they 
 have been engaged? " 
 
 A question was burning on her lips : " Was Michel 
 very demonstrative to his fiancee? " but she dared not 
 ask it. 
 
 " They have been engaged," replied Colette, laughing, 
 "but don't be too jealous you know, they were en- 
 gaged in the French fashion." 
 
 Susy smiled in spite of herself, then another thought 
 suddenly came: 
 
 " She was a widow, when in the month of April, 
 and Michel knew it? " 
 
 " Certainly, he knew ft," cried Colette looking at 
 Suzanne more closely. " What absurd fancies are you 
 going to get into your head? If Michel thought you 
 were tormenting yourself with such childishness " 
 
 The young girl started up. " Colette, promise me 
 that you will not tell Michel I asked these questions. 
 It would trouble me, you see " 
 
 Her eyes were full of tears. 
 
 " You are nervous to-day, my darling," said Colette in 
 astonishment. " Don't worry ; I'll say nothing to 
 Michel. Only, you would be very wrong to think of 
 your little quarrel at luncheon ; I am sure he already re- 
 grets his reproaches. You mustn't be vexed with 
 him." 
 
 " I am not vexed," said Susy, but without great posi- 
 tiveness. And she passionately embraced her cousin. 
 Her heart was lighter. 
 
 For four or five days Michel did not appear at Castel- 
 flore. When Colette sent for news of him, he replied
 
 APRIL'S LADY 187 
 
 that he was working steadily to finish his notes of travel 
 that week. But Monsieur Fauvel announced his inten- 
 tion of going to Saint-Sylvere himself, and asked Su- 
 zanne to accompany him. 
 
 Michel seemed a little embarrassed at the sight of his 
 unexpected visitors, though the table loaded with papers 
 at which he sat forbade any accusation of having pleaded 
 his work as an excuse. 
 
 In reality he had tried to tear himself from the life of 
 vexations which for some time had unnerved him. He 
 could allege with truth the severe headaches from which 
 he had suffered for several days. 
 
 " After all, I believe the Reaults are right," he con- 
 cluded ; " these evening entertainments are bad for the 
 health." 
 
 " A question of habit," Suzanne declared ; " it doesn't 
 fatigue me at all." 
 
 " Yet you are a little pale," remarked Tremor. 
 
 She shook her head quickly, with a movement familiar 
 to him, which might mean anything one chose. 
 
 "You are not ill?" 
 
 " No, indeed, and I am having a very good time." 
 
 " How long is this exciting life to last? " asked Mon- 
 sieur Fauvel. 
 
 " Until the end of the week, at least." 
 
 " Are you going to the Sainval ball ? " cried Suzanne. 
 
 " Probably ; I can't very well avoid it." 
 
 Yet Michel performed the duties of hospitality. He 
 took Miss Severn and Monsieur Fauvel into the ground- 
 floor room where were the pieces of Norman furniture 
 which he intended for his wife's chamber and little draw-
 
 188 APRIL'S LADY 
 
 ing-room ; then Jacotte served luncheon under the trees, 
 and Suzanne did the honours. 
 
 The young girl thought she again saw the pleasant 
 comrade whom she had mourned, and it was this same 
 pleasant comrade who appeared at Castelflore the follow- 
 ing week. Until the evening of the ball, Michel avoided 
 even his best friends, but he rode on horseback with his 
 fiancee, discussed the apartment and its furnishings, and 
 gave Marcienne Michaud six hens. 
 
 Suzanne told herself from morning till night that she 
 was perfectly content with her fate ; by dint of repeating 
 she ended by believing it.
 
 IX 
 
 J. HE maid had tied the last ribbon, put in the last pin, 
 and Susy looked at herself more carefully in the long 
 mirror. 
 
 " I am pretty," she thought. 
 
 In the satin gown which sheathed her closely, she 
 looked extraordinarily slender, but taller and more 
 womanly. The pale green and silvery stuff emphasised 
 her fairness; her pretty rounded shoulders, her arms 
 dimpled at the elbows like those of a child, were white as 
 snow and fresh as flowers. 
 
 She could not help smiling at her image. 
 
 " I am pretty," she repeated. " Why is there only 
 one person who never seems to notice it ? " 
 
 " You are always very pretty, Susy," said Madame 
 Fauvel, " but this evening, you are positively adorable. 
 It isn't allowable to be so bewitching." 
 
 " I am sure that in fifteen minutes it will be proved 
 that somebody can be still more so," Suzanne retorted 
 gaily, glancing at her cousin, whose wonderful hair was 
 being waved by a maid. " As to my gown, it is a gem, 
 and you spoil me too much, dear Colette." 
 
 " Michel is waiting down stairs ; go ask him what he 
 thinks of pale green costumes." 
 
 When Suzanne appeared on the threshold of the 
 lighted drawing-room, Tremor could not repress a move- 
 ment of surprise. Lightly crossing the room, she 
 
 stopped before him, radiant, yet a little timid. 
 
 189
 
 190 APRIL'S LADY 
 
 " Here I am, Michel," she said coquettishly. 
 
 She had often thought that the black dress suit made 
 her fiance look taller; to-night she fancied the white 
 cravat gave his face a more severe expression. 
 
 Susy's frankly expectant attitude asked a question. 
 
 " You have a pretty gown," remarked the young man. 
 
 For an instant, Suzanne felt that all her pleasure had 
 vanished. A pretty gown ! She knew very well that 
 she had a pretty gown ; that was the business of Colette's 
 dressmaker. There was a different remark to be made, 
 and even if Michel desired to keep to this mere approval 
 of her costume, there was another way of expressing it. 
 
 Tremor was still looking at the " pretty gown " and 
 Miss Severn waited ; at last, unable to endure the silence 
 longer, she said: 
 
 " Neither Colette nor Robert are ready yet." 
 
 " It is not late," replied Michel. 
 
 Then they were silent. While she unfolded a paper, 
 he shut one of the windows and stood there gazing out 
 into the darkness. But he still saw the shining vision, 
 the satin gown with its fairy-like sheen of water. 
 
 It was really the little cousin of the evening before 
 who was coquettishly asking admiration for her new cos- 
 tume, but at the first glance Michel believed he divined in 
 her the attractive mystery of a new personality. He re- 
 called the metamorphoses of the fairy tales when the 
 humble visitor says : 
 
 " You thought you were receiving a beggar ; I am a 
 fairy ; beware ! " 
 
 It seemed as if the magic transformation had taken 
 place in Susy, that the triumph of her smile said:
 
 APRIL'S LADY 191 
 
 " You thought you were scolding a child ; beware, I am 
 a woman ! " 
 
 Michel had unconsciously foreseen this exquisite crea- 
 ture on the evening when Susy had appeared so graceful 
 in her mauve gown. Wonder blended with bitterness, 
 joy in admiring Suzanne; wrath in thinking that others 
 would see and admire her too. 
 
 Leaving the window, he went toward his fiancee, who, 
 a little consoled by the remembrance of Colette's compli- 
 ments, a little excited by the anticipation of the ball, 
 began to talk. 
 
 " You know this is my first ball, Michel," she said. 
 " Uncle John and I seldom went into society. And this 
 is my first low-necked gown. Completely low-necked, 
 you understand? " 
 
 " Completely low-necked ; yes, I understand," re- 
 peated Michel, dwelling very slightly on the adj ective. 
 
 The utterly unjust reproof concealed in the reply was 
 scarcely perceptible. Yet Susy felt it, and instinctively 
 drew up the tulle scarf that covered her shoulders. The 
 movement angered Tremor. 
 
 " Do you intend to keep that scarf on at Chesnaie ? " 
 
 She smiled, still very pink. 
 
 " Why, no." 
 
 "Are you cold? " 
 
 She hesitated and at last said : " A little." 
 
 Michel looked at her an instant. 
 
 " I should like to know how you will dare to wear be- 
 fore two or three hundred persons a dress which confuses 
 you now." 
 
 He felt that he was brutal, and yet could not hold back
 
 192 APRIL'S LADY 
 
 the words. But Susy was struck by the logic of the 
 remark, and answered, thinking as soon as the sen- 
 tence was uttered that the reply was meaningless : 
 
 " It is because you make me feel more nervous than the 
 others, I suppose." 
 
 " Ah ! I make you nervous ? I am always a privileged 
 person." 
 
 His voice was hard, sharp ; his eyes were wrathful. 
 
 Suzanne, too, was angry. Rising quickly, she stood 
 before her lover. 
 
 " Listen, Michel," she said, " if you must be as sulky 
 as this, and spoil all my pleasure, say so ! Under these 
 conditions, I would prefer anything ; I would rather give 
 up the Sainval ball." 
 
 She paused, then added : " You are unbearable, you 
 see; I am sure you do not know how unbearable you 
 are." 
 
 Her arms hung by her side as she raised her large 
 sparkling eyes to Michel. A subtle perfume emanated 
 from her gown, the flowers on her breast, her very slightly 
 powdered hair. And her wrath was pretty for, angry 
 as she tried to look, there was nothing hard in her face, 
 nothing sharp in her musical voice, whose foreign accent 
 was more marked at this moment. 
 
 Then perhaps for the first time Michel had a 
 wild desire to take her in his arms, to feel the perfumed 
 hair beneath his lips, to hold close to his heart this lovely 
 child who, after all, was his promised wife, and to 
 say! 
 
 " Well, yes, don't go to this ball, I beseech you ; I don't 
 know by what right I ask this sacrifice. Yet I entreat
 
 APRIL'S LADY 193 
 
 you with all my soul, by all the suffering I foresee and 
 fear." 
 
 But Susy read nothing of these thoughts in the glance 
 that rested on her an instant and, having also reflected, 
 she went on quickly : 
 
 " After all, I should be very foolish to deprive myself 
 of going to the ball on your account." 
 
 " I should be in despair myself to have you resign such 
 a pleasure," he said coldly. 
 
 Just at that instant Colette entered, charming in her 
 mauve moire gown, painted with pale orchids, followed 
 by her husband. Casting a maternal glance at Suzanne, 
 she cried : " Well, brother mine, are you proud of your 
 fiancee? " 
 
 " Very proud," returned Michel, without the least en- 
 thusiasm. 
 
 At Chesnaie, however, he seemed to be in a pleasanter 
 mood, and asked the young girl to give him her first 
 waltz. 
 
 Miss Severn was at first surprised, and then sincerely 
 annoyed. 
 
 " Oh ! Michel, how sorry I am ; I did not know you 
 danced ; you have never done so this summer. So I gave 
 my first waltz to Raymond Desplans the other day." 
 
 " Ah ! " said the young man simply. 
 
 Without adding anything, he offered his arm to 
 Suzanne and followed Robert and Colette, who were 
 greeting Monsieur and Madame Sainval. 
 
 On entering, Miss Severn almost uttered an exclama- 
 tion. This drawing-room appeared as glistening and 
 illusive as an apotheosis of fairyland. Borne on the in-
 
 194. APRIL'S LADY 
 
 visible music, in a dazzling light which lent strange 
 splendor to the sumptuous mauve orchids and green 
 chrysanthemums in the baskets, the light silk draperies 
 and immense awning of the decoration, mauve gowns 
 and green gowns were whirling in all directions. The 
 different shades blended in harmonious contrasts. 
 Through the large bay windows the trees in the park 
 were vaguely outlined, mysteriously illumined by the 
 green and violet tints of an illusive twilight. 
 
 Madame Sainval smiled at Suzanne's ingenuous admi- 
 ration, and Tremor was again compelled to receive with 
 a good grace a compliment to his fiancee which made a 
 mischievous look sparkle in the young girl's eyes. 
 
 Colette and her cousin sat down near Madame Reault 
 and, almost immediately, Raymond Desplans came to 
 claim the waltz which was being played. 
 
 Suzanne hesitated only an instant. 
 
 " Monsieur Desplans," she said, " I am going to be 
 rude; but when I gave you this waltz, I thought that 
 Michel would not come, and as he has asked me for it, I 
 should be very grateful if you would give it back to 
 me." 
 
 " That is perfectly right, Mademoiselle," replied the 
 young man, bowing. 
 
 She thanked him prettily, held out her book for 
 Desplans to write his name for another waltz, and then 
 went in search of Michel, whom she found leaning against 
 the frame of a door. 
 
 " I have taken back my waltz," she said, laying her 
 gloved hand on Tremor's arm, as the orchestra again 
 began to play.
 
 APRIL'S LADY 195 
 
 " I beg you to notice that I have not asked you to do 
 this, Suzanne." 
 
 " I know it ; I acted of my own impulse." 
 
 " Do you want to dance with me? " 
 
 " If you wish it yourself, of course," she replied, a 
 little disappointed by this doubtful welcome. 
 
 " Oh, it was ridiculous for me to invite you. I'm not 
 fond of dancing. Really I don't know what inspired the 
 idea, and ' 
 
 While he was speaking in this constrained tone, Miss 
 Severn was smiling at him with a caressing glance. 
 
 " Don't be cross, Michel," she said very gently. 
 
 Then, without answering, he passed his arm around 
 the young girl and bore her away to the melody of the 
 Hungarian waltz. 
 
 Susy thought Michel waltzed badly ; yet she was glad 
 to dance with him. There was in the mere fact of being 
 guided by him to the rhythm of this somewhat savage 
 music something sweet and, and it were, normal, that 
 cheered and comforted her. 
 
 She was the first to speak a little remark upon the 
 harmonious effect of the two prescribed colours, which 
 she would have made to any partner. Michel answered, 
 admiring what she admired. 
 
 " Do you like the mauve or the green gowns best ? " she 
 next asked. 
 
 " The green ones." 
 
 " And, come now, Michel, among the green ones, to 
 which would you give the prize? " 
 
 Michel smiled, 'and Suzanne thought it made him look 
 very young.
 
 196 APRIL'S LADY 
 
 " To Mademoiselle Sainval's and yours." 
 
 " Really ? You like my gown ? " 
 
 " I thought I had already told you so." 
 
 " Oh ! so badly." 
 
 " Then this is better? " 
 
 " A little. And," she continued with involuntary 
 coquetry, " between Marguerite Sainval's gown and 
 mine, which do you prefer? " 
 
 Michel smiled again ; she waited with a little anxiety. 
 
 " Yours, I think." 
 
 "Why?" 
 
 " Because it is more simple, and perhaps because 
 you are fair, and the water green is becoming." 
 
 " Perhaps so, yes." 
 
 " Have you noticed that we often have the same 
 taste? " he said amicably. 
 
 " Certainly, but not in everything, only in furniture 
 and gowns." 
 
 " That would be very little." 
 
 " The Hetheens ? " she queried with an air of anxiety 
 that was very comical. This time he laughed outright. 
 
 " That might be better." 
 
 " In waltzing? " 
 
 " Oh, no, I waltz very badly " (he had just missed a 
 step). 
 
 ** Very badly, no," Susy corrected, with absolute frank- 
 ness ; " but not well. Yet I am glad to waltz with you, 
 all the same." 
 
 " You are very kind. It is like saying, when someone 
 steps on your foot, that you did not feel it." 
 
 " No, I love to dance with you. . . . Perhaps it
 
 APRIL'S LADY 197 
 
 is because you are something to me, and the rest are 
 nothing." 
 
 He instinctively drew her a little closer to him. 
 
 " So I really am something to you ? " he murmured. 
 
 " You are my fiance and my cousin too," she re- 
 plied smiling. 
 
 Tremor's face had darkened. 
 
 " That is true, I forgot," he said with a sort of em- 
 phasis ; " I am your cousin ! " 
 
 " And you," she asked, " are you glad to dance with 
 me?" 
 
 " What a question ! You know that you waltz to per- 
 fection." 
 
 The music stopped. They went into the conservatory, 
 where Jacques Reault came to speak to Suzanne; then 
 Michel asked for another waltz.. 
 
 She drew out her little book but, at the sight of the 
 pages filled with names, Michel smiled somewhat bitterly. 
 
 " It is useless," he said. " There is nothing more for 
 me." 
 
 " Why, yes," she tried to say ; " only " 
 
 " No. Besides, it is better. I know it is not very 
 pleasant to dance with me." 
 
 The orchestra began a prelude. As Gaston Pont- 
 maury approached to remind Miss Severn of the dance 
 she had promised him, Michel with a hasty good evening 
 went away. 
 
 For a moment Susy thought that she should have no 
 more pleasure during the evening, but her youth gained 
 the upper hand. 
 
 There was much unconsciousness in Miss Severn's
 
 198 APRIL'S LADY 
 
 coquetry. The desire to please was so instinctive, so ab- 
 sorbing, that she seemed to make it her object to charm 
 women, children, and the humblest people she met, and, 
 she was as coquettish in her manner with Colette, 
 Georges, Nysette, and the Michauds as with her partners. 
 
 Her delicate freshness, the brilliancy of her blonde 
 beauty, were unusually attractive, she knew, and this 
 joyous certainty of being pretty sparkled in her words 
 and smile. 
 
 She was surrounded like a little queen and, in her joy 
 at being thus petted, she felt very good, very indulgent. 
 All the men seemed agreeable, all the women beautiful, 
 and the whole world very captivating. 
 
 Once she saw with pleasure that Michel was dancing 
 with Marguerite Sainval, for she would have wished every 
 one to have as much enjoyment as she and, believing he 
 would come to seek her later, she kept the German for 
 him against all entreaties. She felt a great desire to 
 dance with Michel again ; perhaps a little from gratified 
 pride, perhaps also from a feeling that Susy scarcely de- 
 fined. But he did not come. 
 
 Several times, while dancing, she tried to smile at him, 
 but he pretended not to see her. She cheered up again, 
 however when, after many others, the young man came 
 to take her to the supper room, though she felt that she 
 and Michel were not in harmony. 
 
 Tremor refused to conduct his fiancee into the gallery, 
 whose windows were wide open, but served her in the con- 
 servatory. For the moment they were entirely alone. 
 
 " People will think you are monopolising me," cried 
 the young girl.
 
 APRIL'S LADY . 199 
 
 " Robert went an hour ago, leaving you and Colette 
 in my charge. I have not the slightest desire that you 
 should catch pneumonia." 
 
 " Poor Colette ! She is having a good time herself, 
 and probably not thinking of me ; but would you believe 
 that I haven't had time to exchange two words with her 
 this evening? " 
 
 " Oh ! I could easily believe it." 
 
 " It's dull to eat alone," said Suzanne suddenly. 
 " Why didn't you get something for yourself? " 
 
 " Because I am not hungry." 
 
 " Here are two forks, one on my plate and one on the 
 the f oie gras ; we might eat at the same time." 
 
 " I am not hungry." 
 
 " Oh! just a mouthful, Michel, one tiny mouthful, to 
 please me," she entreated. 
 
 Half vexed, half amused, Michel took the fork and 
 obeyed. The young girl laughed gaily. 
 
 " You are very nice, Michel," she said, " when you 
 cease to be a serious man. Serious men are sometimes 
 very tiresome, do you know ? " 
 
 " Oh ! I know it. It has been, perhaps, the great folly 
 of my life to be serious." 
 
 His tone grieved the little queen of the evening; 
 a look of tender pity softened her eyes and, very 
 gently, she laid her ungloved hand upon her stern sub- 
 ject's. 
 
 " No," she said, " I do not think so ; I think your life 
 is very good as it is." 
 
 Tremor's hand had closed upon the compassionate 
 fingers.
 
 200 APRIL'S LADY 
 
 " Colette is right," he said in a very low tone, " you 
 are a terrible coaxer." 
 
 " But you are so hard to coax that I don't see 
 what you should fear," she murmured in a still lower 
 voice. 
 
 Disengaging her hand, she took a few sips of cham- 
 pagne, then said: 
 
 " I have finished ; if you are thirsty, I'll give you the 
 rest." 
 
 " Thank you." 
 
 "Are you disgusted? " she asked so gravely that he 
 could not help laughing. 
 
 " Why no. What a baby you are ! " 
 
 Taking the goblet, he drank from it slowly. 
 
 Susy seemed delighted. 
 
 " That is a savage ceremony," she said. " In novels 
 of adventure, the Apaches and all those folk seal their 
 compacts of friendship in that way not with cham- 
 pagne, of course. I hope we shall never quarrel again. 
 Do you remember our agreement at Saint-Sylvere ? " 
 she added rising. 
 
 Tremor looked at her an instant without speaking, then 
 he murmured. 
 
 " Yes, I do remember it." 
 
 When her lover had taken her back to the ballroom, 
 Suzanne was on the point of offering him the German, 
 but changed her mind. They separated, and she once 
 more allowed herself to be carried far away from real 
 life by the intoxication of dancing and adulation. 
 
 " Mademoiselle Sainval is only the official heroine of 
 her parents' ball ; the real one is Miss Severn," exclaimed
 
 APRIL'S LADY 201 
 
 Baron Pontmaury, who was talking with Tremor. 
 Look at her." 
 
 Tremor submissively obeyed the request, but he cer- 
 tainly did not find as much pleasure in seeing Miss 
 Severn dance as did Baron Pontmaury. Yet Suzanne, 
 in her glory, did not forget the lovers whom she was to 
 aid. While waiting for a waltz she had promised Paul 
 Reault, she sat down by Simone. 
 
 " Are you having a very good time, darling? " 
 
 "Oh!" 
 
 The answer was very expressive. 
 
 " So much the better," replied Miss Severn. " Have 
 you danced a great deal? " 
 
 " A great deal." 
 
 " With pleasant people ? " 
 
 " Why yes," 
 
 " Who, for instance ? " 
 
 " Monsieur Pontmaury, Monsieur Riege, Monsieur 
 Boisse, Monsieur Desplans, Monsieur. Oh, I don't 
 know ; there are too many." 
 
 " Didn't you dance with Paul Reault? " 
 
 "Oh lyes." 
 
 " Then why did you omit the poor fellow from your 
 list? Do you dislike him? " 
 
 " No." 
 
 " I'm very fond of him. And you ? " asked Miss 
 Severn suddenly. 
 
 " So so," replied the young girl, making a little face. 
 
 Paul came up to them. 
 
 " We were talking about you," said Susy, with her 
 usual composure.
 
 202 APRIL'S LADY 
 
 Mademoiselle Chaze blushed deeply. 
 
 " I am certain that Miss Severn was telling you some- 
 thing bad about me, Mademoiselle." 
 
 " Oh ! not at all, were you, Suzanne ? " 
 
 " So so ! " retorted Suzanne, imitating her little 
 friend. " Come, my dear y . give this wicked Paul this 
 waltz, or he will think I have been doing him an ill turn 
 with you." She was going to add : " I am tired," but 
 the young man did not give her time. 
 
 " Oh ! Mademoiselle Simone, I entreat you ! " he im- 
 plored. 
 
 " I should like to, but I am engaged." 
 
 "And the next?" 
 
 " The next I have given to Monsieur Languille, but 
 Suzanne," asked the young girl, " would it be very 
 rude to forget Languille just this once? " 
 
 " Why, that would be delightful ! " cried Paul en- 
 thusiastically. 
 
 When Simone had gone away on the arm of her happy 
 partner, Paul sat down beside Suzanne, who was laughing 
 merrily. 
 
 " I believe you are making fun of me, Miss Susy." 
 
 " Do you think so ? But, you wretch, you were to 
 dance this waltz with me. And your way of leaving me 
 in the lurch ! Oh ! how funny you can be ! " 
 
 " Say that I deserve the gibbet. But there are ex- 
 tenuating circumstances. Now, if you were good, we 
 would dance this famous waltz and talk about her all the 
 time." 
 
 Susy was good, and they talked about her. Paul 
 found the conversation so agreeable that he asked his
 
 APRIL'S LADY 203 
 
 good fairy to dance the German, frankly explaining 
 that he could not dance it with Simone, lest he should 
 displease Jacques. 
 
 " We have danced together I don't know how many 
 times," remarked Suzanne, laughing ; " people will think 
 you are paying me attention." 
 
 " Pshaw ! " replied the young man, " it's no new thing 
 for me to pay attention to every pretty girl; Michel 
 knows that very well." 
 
 Turning, Miss Severn sought her fiance with her eyes. 
 He cared little for his rights ; yet Susy found it hard to 
 give the German to another. Where was Michel? No 
 longer in the same place, at any rate. Suddenly she 
 almost uttered an exclamation. Michel was dancing with 
 Madame de Lorge, and smiling at the mincing airs of 
 " that bewigged head." Oh ! that widow ! Good Heav- 
 ens ! what had she said that he should be in such raptures ? 
 And she was painted! 
 
 " Come, Miss Susy," replied Paul, " be charitable, give 
 me the German." 
 
 " Well, yes, then," she replied. 
 
 The German was danced at four o'clock ; the ball was 
 to end with a farandole. 
 
 Garlanded with mauve flowers and delicate green 
 leaves souvenirs of the German her hair slightly 
 disordered, her eyes very brilliant, Susy vaguely sug- 
 gested the idea of a very dainty, aristocratic little Bac- 
 chante. Just as she was starting off with Languille, 
 who had been whirling around all the evening like a 
 young man, Michel came to tell her that the carriage 
 was ready, and Colette wanted to go.
 
 204 APRIL'S LADY 
 
 * 
 
 " Oh ! Michel, one minute ; this is the end." 
 
 " My dear friend," cried Languille, " you won't " 
 
 But Tremor did not appear to hear the artist. 
 
 " Come, Susy," he repeated ; " it is nearly five o'clock, 
 almost dawn " 
 
 " So much the better ; I should like to breakfast here." 
 
 " That's it, that's it ! " Languille approved pleasantly. 
 
 "That's it, that's it," replied Michel, impatiently 
 imitating him ; " it's very well for you, but I have a 
 frightful headache." 
 
 Suzanne instantly dropped her partner's arm. 
 
 " If your head aches, let us go I thought five 
 minutes more and Colette would not but let us go." 
 
 At Castelflore Michel helped the two ladies out, then 
 hastily embraced Colette, and held out his hand to 
 Suzanne. 
 
 " I must run away," he said ; " that luckless coachman 
 must detest me." 
 
 " Good-bye, and thank you, brother mine," called 
 Colette. 
 
 Alone in the pallid dawn, while the rain began to 
 plash gently against the panes, Michel flung himself, 
 fully dressed, upon his bed. He wanted to sleep, but all 
 the thoughts he wished to banish thronged upon his 
 mind, and ever whirled in a bewitching light the fragile 
 green enchantress. 
 
 He was obliged to admit that, during that intermina- 
 ble night, there were moments when he would have been 
 capable of throwing away his History of the Hetheens 
 to dance like Paul Reault or Desplans. 
 
 " Yet I do not love her," he repeated, his face buried
 
 APRIL'S LADY 205 
 
 in his pillow ; " no, I really believe that I do not love her, 
 but she bewitches me, she intoxicates me, as she does the 
 rest. Ah! if the miserable little coquette, who does not 
 consider me sufficiently ' coaxable,' if she only knew ! 
 How she would triumph, how she would laugh at me ! "
 
 X 
 
 JL OWARD ten o'clock Michel rose, worn out by his in- 
 somnia. 
 
 The rain had soaked the roads; nevertheless, he went 
 to Castelflore, thinking that he was in search of a work on 
 ethnology. In the little room on the ground floor he 
 found Suzanne. 
 
 She was breakfasting, comfortably seated before a 
 table on which were various pretty pieces of silver and 
 china. The substantial meal bread, butter, boiled 
 eggs and tea was that of an active, healthy person 
 who considered air and light insufficient nourishment. 
 
 In a closely-fitting dark wool gown, with a light blue 
 cravat around her slender neck, her movements were as 
 quick and her complexion as fresh as if she had been 
 sleeping peacefully all night. 
 
 " You, Michel, already ! " 
 
 He hurriedly explained the object of his visit then, 
 while Suzanne went on eating, sat down and tried to talk. 
 But harmony between them was less possible than ever. 
 
 Michel came very weary physically and mentally, with 
 a vague desire to be comforted, to hear a cheering word ; 
 above all, to be understood without having to explain him- 
 self. Suzanne had fallen asleep like a child, and waked 
 with her head filled with rose-coloured fancies. When 
 she read novels or fairy tales whose heroine, a young, 
 dowerless girl, or a peasant disguised as a princess, be- 
 came the centre of a festival, she had smiled, giving no 
 
 206
 
 APRIL'S LADY 207 
 
 more credence to the romance than to the fairy tale, but 
 she had thought it must be a pleasant thing to have " a 
 great success," as in the novel, or to be " queen of the 
 ball," as the fairy tale described. And now reality had 
 undertaken to prove the probability of fiction. She, 
 little Zanne, had enjoyed one of those social successes 
 perhaps once envied by her but from so great a dis- 
 tance. 
 
 Miss Severn had not really been aware of her unex- 
 pected triumph until the next morning on waking. But 
 she was still happy and content even to the degree of 
 scorning that poor Madame de Lorge and forgetting 
 Michel's bad temper. Perhaps, after all, this unknown 
 charm which emanated from her had somewhat subdued 
 the proud knight of Saint-Sylvere. He had not been 
 constantly cross; on the contrary, he had sometimes be- 
 stowed on Susy more affectionate looks and more indul- 
 gent words. 
 
 So, when Michel came in, his fiancee had expected to 
 see him as gay, as agreeable, as proud of Miss Severn as 
 she felt inclined to be of herself. She was surprised to 
 find him so gloomy, with a frown on his forehead. He 
 was irritated to see her so smiling. 
 
 " Are you going out? " asked the young man, noticing 
 Suzanne's hat and cape lying on a chair near her. 
 
 She merrily answered that she and four or five other 
 young girls were invited to lunch at Madame Reault's 
 " to talk over the ball " ; then interrupting herself: 
 
 " By the way, Michel," she said, " there is something I 
 must ask you. Yesterday at Chesnaie, they planned a 
 ride on horseback to Franchard. The meeting will 1 be
 
 208 APRIL'S LADY 
 
 at half past one, at the Butte-aux-Chevres. As we shall 
 not return until evening, Colette thinks it too long, and 
 Robert doesn't care about it. Will you deign to go 
 with me? " 
 
 A ride in a party ! Michel instantly imagined what it 
 would be. Desplans, Pontmaury, Paul Reault appeared 
 like so many hateful spectres ; he again saw Suzanne sur- 
 rounded, flirting as she had done at the ball. 
 
 " Really, my dear, I have something better to do than 
 to spend my day with a troop of people," he answered 
 coldly. 
 
 At these words the young girl looked at Tremor and 
 noticed his pallor. 
 
 " You look very tired. Does your head still ache ? " 
 
 " Yes, of course." 
 
 They were silent. 
 
 " So," said Michel, with involuntary impatience, " you 
 haven't yet had enough of this wretched ball. Heaven 
 knows you talked about it sufficiently beforehand. And 
 you must needs talk after." 
 
 Susy began to laugh. " Oh ! Michel, if you only knew 
 how exciting it was," she cried. " And after all," she 
 went on, " you were not bored all the time, yourself. 
 You danced." 
 
 " Twice at least, didn't I? You " 
 
 " Oh ! I did not miss a single dance. Everybody was 
 so good to me." 
 
 " You must have talked with a great many people, 
 for you had a court." 
 
 " Really ? Well, Michel, a whole court is less com- 
 promising than a single courtier."
 
 APRIL'S LADY 209 
 
 But Michel was in no mood for jesting. 
 
 " A fine custom young French girls have recently 
 taken up," he said, " following the example of your 
 countrywomen. I really don't know why they trouble 
 themselves with a chaperon. A maid could attend them 
 to the dressing-room." 
 
 " A time will come when they will dispense with a 
 maid," returned Susy philosophically. 
 
 " I don't think a time could ever come when I should 
 consider it proper for a young girl to be surrounded only 
 by young men during an entire evening," he returned, 
 making a more direct attack.. 
 
 " Oh ! surrounded by young men>" said Susy, ac- 
 cepting the challenge and suddenly feeling a desire to 
 tease. "Who? Let us see? Desplans? Yes, De- 
 splans did pay me attention. And then " 
 
 " And Gaston Pontmaury," abruptly interrupted 
 Michel, " and Paul Reault and Beaucourt, and then that 
 sort of deputy, and that blockhead of a Languille." 
 
 " Oh ! Michel, blockhead ! " she repeated reproachfully. 
 " Besides, Languille^ isn't* a< young* man, nor the sub- 
 prefect either." 
 
 " And Paul Reault, is he a young man ?* Paul Reault 
 whom you knew at Cannes, who paid you attention last 
 winter probably." 
 
 " He did pay me attention at Cannes, yes, that is true, 
 Michel," conceded Miss Severn, still calmly pouring her- 
 self a second cup of tea, " but not here." 
 
 Michel rose, folding his arms. 
 
 " Then you admit that he paid you attention at 
 Cannes? "
 
 210 APRIL'S LADY 
 
 " Certainly, why not ? It is droll, Michel, that you are 
 always astonished that any one should pay me attention." 
 
 " I did not say that I was astonished you ought not 
 to allow it, that is all. But you are a coquette " 
 
 " I am not a coquette ; only I like to have a good time, 
 and I do whenever I can." 
 
 " And how many times did you go for refreshments, 
 how many times ? " 
 
 " Are you reproaching me for what I ate? " 
 
 " Oh ; you didn't eat much. You had very little time 
 to eat." 
 
 Miss Severn sat erect in her chair, and looked Tremor 
 squarely in the face. 
 
 " Did you come this morning to seek a quarrel ? " she 
 asked with a sauciness very clearly shown in the tilt of 
 her chin. 
 
 He had not come to seek a quarrel. Oh, no ! he had 
 been captured by it ; now he was in the midst, his glance 
 stern, his voice sharp, his mind bitter, his heart con- 
 tracted, all the rancour of the night on his lips. 
 
 " I have a horror of quarrels, Suzanne," he replied ; 
 " I merely wished to express my way of thinking." 
 
 " Your way of thinking is so pleasant. Do you sup- 
 pose I am the only girl who laughed and talked a little 
 at Chesnaie ? " 
 
 " There are young girls, and even young married 
 women who are very gay, charming ones who scorn the 
 insipid compliments of the Pontmaurys and Desplans. 
 Madame Reault, for instance, is she coquettish ? " 
 
 " No, and she is lovely," Susy assented frankly. 
 " But it isn't the same thing with Therese."
 
 APRIL'S LADY 211 
 
 "Why?" 
 
 " Because." 
 
 " You cannot tell me." 
 
 " No." 
 
 " Oh, I am not curious," said the young man, whose 
 anger was increasing. " But I confess that I did not 
 expect such recklessness." 
 
 Susy turned pale. 
 
 " That is a rude word," she said, through her clenched 
 teeth. 
 
 But Michel, thoroughly exasperated, continued, pass- 
 ing the limits which, in a cooler mood, he would have 
 scorned to cross. 
 
 " Do you think that dances which make a young girl 
 go from one man's arms to another's for a whole evening, 
 are not disgusting? Do you believe that you know 
 exactly what you are saying, under the influence of music 
 that intoxicates you, with all these fools who are more 
 or less excited by their visits to the sideboard? I hate 
 these balls, I hate the license they sanction, the flirtations 
 they favor, and as you are my promised wife " 
 
 " Michel," interrupted Susy, trembling with rage, 
 " take care what you are saying." 
 
 " Nothing except what is very justifiable, be sure of 
 that. I am tired of playing a ridiculous part. I did 
 not ask for your love, not even your friendship " 
 
 " Michel ! " cried the young girl with flashing eyes, her 
 voice trembling from the quiver of her lips ; " Michel, 
 what you say is base. You did not ask for my friend- 
 ship, but I asked for yours, and if you had given it to 
 me, you could never, never have treated me so unjustly."
 
 212 APRIL'S LADY 
 
 He tried to speak, but she would not permit it. 
 
 "What have I done? " she went on, with a sort of 
 wrathful bewilderment. " Why was I taken to the ball 
 if not to dance and have a good time ? You talk of reck- 
 lessness! What have I done? So it disturbs you be- 
 cause I am a little pleased, a little petted. Oh! 
 that is the way with all you men, jealous from vanity, 
 when it is not from affection ! Oh ! Michel, it is unkind, 
 it is unkind. Have I reproached you for dancing with 
 Madame de Lorge, and yet I hate her, oh! I hate that 
 woman." 
 
 Still more irritated, excited, carried away by the words 
 she was speaking, she suddenly pushed the table back, 
 buried her face in the sofa pillows and burst into tears. 
 Michel was thunderstruck. 
 
 " Suzanne," he attempted to say, " it is absurd to 
 weep." 
 
 But she made no answer. Shaken by sobs, tears were 
 streaming between her fingers. 
 
 " Susy, don't cry so." 
 
 The sobs increased. It was the utter despair of a help- 
 less, bewildered child. Michel hesitated then, distracted 
 by this grief, he knelt before the young girl. 
 
 " Suzanne, my dear little one," he implored, vainly 
 trying to draw away the hands she pressed against her 
 face, " you are causing me a great deal of sorrow. If I 
 have been too severe, if I was wrong, forgive me. My 
 poor little Zanne, I don't want you to cry " 
 
 " Michel," she said in a very low, suffocated tone, 
 " you have been very cruel." 
 
 " But I am sorry for it, I assure you ; don't cry."
 
 APRIL'S LADY 213 
 
 " Michel, I am not a coquette." 
 
 " No, my darling, no it was all those little fools 
 that irritated me." 
 
 " And you did flirt with Madame de Lorge," she went 
 on, still without uncovering her face. 
 
 " Madame de Lorge ! Oh ! if you knew how indifferent 
 I am to her ! " 
 
 " Do you think that I am not indifferent to De- 
 splans, for instance ? " 
 
 I hope so." 
 
 Susy raised her head, lowered her little hands and ap- 
 peared bathed in tears. Then she saw Tremor kneeling 
 before her and she smiled. It was like a ray of sunshine 
 in her eyes and on her wet cheeks, but Michel foolishly 
 imagined that she was mocking him, that the smile ex- 
 pressed a malicious triumph. He abruptly started up, 
 and there was a moment's constraint. 
 
 " Michel," said Suzanne at last, " why did you speak 
 to me so harshly ? " 
 
 Michel sat down by her wide, and took her hand. 
 
 " Listen, Susy," he said ; " I am very sorry, very much 
 ashamed of having been carried away by my anger. 
 But your youth, your frankness, and also the customs 
 of the country in which you were educated, prevent you 
 from understanding the danger in these games of smiles 
 and compliments. You are purity itself, I know, but 
 you are perfectly aware that everybody finds you pretty, 
 bewitching " 
 
 " Not everybody, not you," she interrupted, pouting. 
 And she longed to add : " If I danced the German with 
 Paul Reault, it was because someone else, someone very
 
 214 APRIL'S LADY 
 
 unkind, did not care to ask me." But her pride forbade 
 this reproach. 
 
 " Not I ; that is agreed I am always the exception. 
 But, everybody except myself, isn't that true? And it 
 amuses you, and you encourage these flirtations which 
 undoubtedly are perfectly innocent on your part, but, 
 believe me, might be less so with the other side. Ah ! if 
 you knew how men talk in the smoking-rooms about 
 women and even young girls, when they give cause for 
 the least criticism " 
 
 " What you are saying is very disagreeable." 
 
 " Very disagreeable, certainly, but unfortunately true. 
 Susy," the young man continued, " I should like to ask 
 it is hard, it is cruel in me, but will you promise to 
 amuse yourself a little less another time? I should be 
 so happy." 
 
 Miss Severn lowered her eyes, then raising them to his, 
 said firmly : 
 
 " I will promise, but give and take. You will no 
 longer show Madame de Lorge any attention beyond 
 what strict civility requires. I have my vanity, too." 
 
 " I will do as you wish. I danced once with Madame 
 de Lorge, because she came in search of me, and almost 
 forced me to it, if you want to know. It is per- 
 fectly absurd." 
 
 Susy laughed with delight. 
 
 " She came to search for you, Michel? Well, she is 
 not proud." 
 
 Michel joined in her laugh. 
 
 " Then we are no longer angry with each other, 
 Michel? I hate quarrels."
 
 APRIL'S LADY 215 
 
 Her voice was coaxing. 
 
 " Good Heavens, so do I, I assure you " 
 
 Michel hesitated, seemed embarrassed, then suddenly 
 returning to the subject of the dispute: 
 
 " Susy," he said again, " I am sometimes afraid that 
 you do not understand the importance of things. That 
 supper you shared so prettily with me, you you 
 would not have shared it with any one else, Susy, tell 
 me?" 
 
 The question was grating. Michel was not ignorant 
 of it, but it had beset him on his return from Chesnaie 
 and he could not help asking it. 
 
 Miss Severn looked at him in profound astonish- 
 ment. 
 
 " With any one else ? " she repeated, " with a 
 stranger? " 
 
 Again she looked at him. 
 
 " Michel," she added, suddenly smiling, " would you 
 have made the scene with which you just favored me 
 with any one else ? " 
 
 He abruptly covered his eyes with the hand he still 
 held. 
 
 " Oh ! I am crazy," he said ; " I am crazy, you must 
 forgive me, forget what I have said." 
 
 For a very brief pause they remained silent, then Susy 
 rose. 
 
 " The carriage must be ready." 
 
 Tremor had risen too. Laying his hand upon Su- 
 zanne's head and drawing back a little to read her eyes 
 better, he said imploringly : 
 
 " You forgive me? "
 
 216 APRIL'S LADY 
 
 " Yes," she answered in a very low tone, without shun- 
 ning the eyes that sought her own. 
 
 " Thank you, little Zanne," said Michel, gently kiss- 
 ing her forehead. 
 
 Blushing slightly, she took her hat and went before 
 the mirror to put it on. 
 
 " Susy," added Tremor in a very pleasant tone, " I 
 was cross just now; if you really wish to ride to Fran- 
 chard, I will go with you gladly." 
 
 She turned quickly, with sparkling eyes. 
 
 " Oh ! Michel, I should be delighted." 
 
 The young man smiled, then he took the cloth cape 
 lying on a piece of furniture and, with gentle care, 
 wrapped it around the pretty little figure. 
 
 " It is almost cold, this morning ; take care," he ad- 
 vised. 
 
 The gesture, the simple words, touched Suzanne. 
 The evening of that day, as she was going to sleep, she 
 thought for a long time and suddenly a question formed 
 itself in her mind : 
 
 " How do people know that they are in love? How 
 are they perfectly sure of it? "
 
 XI 
 
 rr HILE their horses were carrying them toward the 
 Butte-aux-Chevres Michel and Susy's hearts were filled 
 with the frank joy of the first days of their comrade- 
 ship, but subtly pervaded by a new emotion. 
 
 Susy was enjoying the soothing charm of the beau- 
 tiful morning. Michel was admiring the supple move- 
 ments of a somewhat fragile figure bending beneath the 
 boughs, and rising again so gracefully; he was en- 
 chanted by a voice that sounded as clear as the rippling 
 of springs. 
 
 They were talking together: 
 
 " This bores you a little, Michel, because you never 
 like rides in parties, but it doesn't bore you so very 
 much? " 
 
 " It doesn't bore me at all." 
 
 " Do you know that you can be very kind when you 
 choose? Why don't you wish to be always? " 
 
 Michel's only reply was a lift of the brows. 
 
 Suzanne continued: 
 
 " It seems that your solemn airs conceal a person 
 whom I do not yet know, and who is very young, very 
 spontaneous, happy and gay for a nothing. One of 
 your friends told me so." 
 
 Tremor's face brightened. 
 
 " Daran," he said. " I received a letter from him a 
 few days ago, and I am expecting him next week. 
 
 217
 
 218 APRIL'S LADY 
 
 When did you see him, without counting the famous 
 evening when his erudition put you to sleep? " 
 
 " At the time of our engagement, before his depar- 
 ture and yours." 
 
 " You are right, I forgot." 
 
 " He is very fond of you. Is it true that he never 
 decides anything without consulting you ? " 
 
 Michel smiled. 
 
 " I might almost believe so. In his last letter he asks 
 me to find an engineer for his father, and to advise him- 
 self in the choice of an automobile. There's a proof 
 of confidence! We like, Daran and I, to talk about 
 all sorts of things that interest us, whether they are 
 important or not. I have known him all his life, he 
 has known me all mine. Yes, I believe he is very fond 
 of me and I love him like a brother." 
 
 " So much the better, Michel," said Susy. " I like 
 Daran. I shall love him too." 
 
 Michel seemed astonished. 
 
 " I should have feared that Daran might seem to you 
 what shall I term it? A little disappointing. Well, 
 he greatly admires you. Probably without intending 
 it, you have charmed him." 
 
 She laughed a little low, sweet laugh, then in her 
 childlike manner said: 
 
 " How many people I have charmed so ! It is com- 
 ical." 
 
 Michel did not think it comical, but he took care not 
 to express his opinion. Then, suddenly, the vision 
 again haunted him of Desplans, Paul Reault, all the 
 young men who, like Daran, and less artlessly than he,
 
 APRIL'S LADY 219 
 
 had yielded to the enchantment and during the ride to 
 Franchard would be as absurdly eager as usual. He 
 contented himself with saying: 
 
 " You know I would much prefer that fewer people 
 should be charmed." 
 
 But Susy had not the least desire this morning to be 
 vexed or even tease. 
 
 " Oh ! Michel," she cried with a reproach in her coax- 
 ing voice, " I think you might have spared me that 
 speech. I have been so quiet and even serious since the 
 Sainval ball." 
 
 " For two days." 
 
 " Yesterday, especially, at Madame Riege's, I sat be- 
 side Raymond Des Monsieur Desplans. Well, do you 
 know what I talked about to him during the dinner? 
 The American Constitution! He did not come back. 
 You are satisfied I think? " 
 
 He looked at her, still smiling, admitting that after 
 all, she was right. He had noticed that she was more 
 reserved than usual, and that several times, by a little 
 side glance, she had sought his approval incor- 
 rigibly coquettish, perhaps, in this new character. 
 
 " Very well satisfied," he answered, adding, this time 
 in a jesting tone: 
 
 " What if you should again talk about the Ameri- 
 can Constitution on this ride? Perhaps it might be a 
 means of wearying your court." 
 
 Susy glanced at him and said firmly : 
 
 " But you would have an excellent way of wearying 
 my court." 
 
 " Tell me quickly."
 
 220 APRIL'S LADY 
 
 " Why, it would be to play the engaged man your- 
 self a little more than usual, that is all; to remain near 
 me, rush for the flowers I look at, appear to " 
 
 Miss Severn was laughing, but there was a little tremor 
 in her voice. 
 
 " Come," she concluded, " you know very well the 
 manner that engaged men have, don't you? And you 
 don't have it at all. This is not a reproach." 
 
 " It would be a little unjust, I think. You told me 
 one day that the regulation engaged couples bored you, 
 and you wanted a good comrade." 
 
 She laughed again. 
 
 " That is perfectly true but just for once, by way 
 of a change." 
 
 Michel's heart was a little heavy. There was some 
 truth in what Suzanne had said; yet he kept silent, still 
 beset by the fear of being the plaything of a coquette. 
 And he asked himself whether his own feeling was any- 
 thing more than irritated pride. Had not his mascu- 
 line vanity suffered more than his heart, when his 
 fiancee laughed and enjoyed herself in his absence, when 
 she was gracious to all, without caring to please him? 
 
 As Tremor was silent Miss Severn asked : 
 
 " For once, will you pay me attention all day long, so 
 that others may not do it ? " 
 
 " Indeed I will," replied Michel. " I only fear that 
 the comparisons you will make may not be favourable 
 to me." 
 
 Suzanne turned slightly toward Tremor and looking 
 at him with the glance through the lashes which was one 
 of her witcheries, murmured :
 
 APRIL'S LADY 221 
 
 " If you thought so, you would not say it." 
 
 And as she held out her whip hand to Michel, he 
 clasped and raised it to his lips. The movement was 
 so unlike the usual manner of their relations that Su- 
 zanne began to laugh. 
 
 " My compliments, Michel ; you have struck tne right 
 note." 
 
 A pause followed. 
 
 " Twenty minutes of two," cried Miss Severn, glanc- 
 ing at her watch. " We are abominably late." And 
 touching Pepa's flank with the whip, she set off at a trot. 
 
 The mound known by the name of Butte-aux-Chevres 
 rose in the midst of an ancient wood, whose trees had 
 been felled. A group of horsemen, amid whom were 
 visible the figures of several women in riding costume, 
 surrounded the landau from Chesnaie, where Madame 
 Reault, who had not been well for several days, was 
 seated beside Madame Sainval. 
 
 Tired of remaining still, Simone Chaze rode her horse 
 at a trot around the clearing, then checked him to a 
 walk to look at the heather which carpeted the earth, 
 like dainty bells ready to sound the knell of summer. 
 
 By a skilful manoeuvre, Paul joined the young girl. 
 
 " Do you want me to gather some for you? " he 
 asked. 
 
 " No, I would rather do it myself." 
 
 " Then shall I help you from the saddle? " 
 
 " Do you think I should have time ? " 
 
 " Tremor and Miss Severn have not come ; you will 
 have plenty of time," answered Paul. 
 
 Mademoiselle Chaze slipped quickly from her saddle,
 
 222 APRIL'S LADY 
 
 but before she was aware of his intention, the young 
 man had caught her in his arms and placed her on the 
 ground. 
 
 " You frightened me, Monsieur Paul," she said re- 
 proachfully. 
 
 " Oh ! I beg your pardon," he implored ; " are you 
 angry ? Did I hurt you ? " 
 
 " You did not hurt me, but I do not like to have peo- 
 ple rough." 
 
 She spoke gently; but her face had clouded. Paul 
 bent his head. 
 
 " Forgive me," he repeated ; " I was wrong. I have 
 vexed, troubled you, I who would do anything to save 
 you annoyance." 
 
 Then, as she made no reply, alarmed by her silence, 
 he continued: 
 
 " Be kind, Simone ; your heart is full of compassion 
 for those who suffer, the sick, the poor; well, imagine 
 that I am a poor man who needs your pity. Alas! I 
 have nothing interesting about me; I don't beat my 
 breast and call Heaven to witness my woes yet 
 I am unhappy, I assure you." 
 
 Simone had listened in surprise ; at the last words she 
 started. 
 
 " You are unhappy? What makes you so? " 
 
 " I cannot tell you," replied Paul ; " Jacques has for- 
 bidden me." 
 
 " Is it anything bad ? " questioned Simone, opening 
 her eyes very wide. 
 
 " Anything bad, oh ! don't imagine that." 
 
 He stopped, hesitated, then yielding to impulse :
 
 APRIL'S LADY 223 
 
 " It is only that I love you, Simone, and Jacques 
 thinks me unworthy." 
 
 " You love me." 
 
 It was a murmur, almost a sigh. 
 
 Startled, the pretty child had hidden her face with 
 both hands, but she suddenly removed them and Paul 
 saw that she was smiling with eyes full of tears. 
 
 " You love me," she repeated. " But that is no harm, 
 Monsieur Paul." 
 
 *' Oh ! how lovely you are," cried the young man. 
 
 He longed to kneel and kiss the hands watered with 
 such precious tears, but remembered very opportunely 
 that he and Mademoiselle Chaze were not alone. 
 
 " Then you are willing that I should be your hus- 
 band. Speak, speak quickly." 
 
 " Yes, I am willing," replied Simone gently, " but you 
 must ask Therese." 
 
 " Oh ! my beautiful Simonette ! If you only knew 
 how I love you, how happy we shall be." 
 
 He had forgotten Jacques's charges, and gave himself 
 up without restraint to the happiness of being loved by 
 this little frank angel. 
 
 Besides, no one was thinking of interrupting this love 
 duet. They were waiting solely for Miss Severn and 
 Michel Tremor to arrive. When they appeared at the 
 edge of the clearing, a burst of exclamations and cheers 
 greeted them. 
 
 " You see, Michel, we are the last," said Suzanne, ex- 
 cited by this noisy reception. 
 
 She gave her mare a violent blow with her whip, and 
 dashed at full gallop across the ruts, holes, and logs,
 
 224 APRIL'S LADY 
 
 dangerously hidden by the tall grass. Almost instantly 
 the animal, maddened by the horse flies which had at- 
 tacked it, sprang aside, and reared. It was swift as a 
 flash of lightning. Pepa was falling. Instinctively 
 clearing herself from the saddle, Suzanne threw herself 
 with a sudden movement to one side. She was aware 
 of a shock, then her senses failed. 
 
 When she recovered consciousness, she was in Madame 
 Samval's landau, the horses were trotting. She met an 
 anxious gaze fixed eagerly on her and saw Michel very 
 pale, supporting her with an arm passed around her 
 shoulders. Then she felt perfectly calm. 
 
 " It is nothing, Michel," she faltered. Then her 
 head rested on Michel's breast, and she wearily closed her 
 eyes. 
 
 Colette went to the sofa where Michel was sitting, 
 and laid her hand tenderly upon her brother's shoulder. 
 
 " You need have no more anxiety, my poor Michel," 
 she said ; " the doctor has repeated to Robert what he 
 told us. It is a miracle, but she is not hurt. The little 
 wound on the forehead is trifling, and two or three days' 
 rest will cure the shock to the nerves. Poor little girl! 
 What a horrible fright she has had! And we, too," 
 added Madame Fauvel, drawing a long breath of relief. 
 
 On seeing Suzanne pale, tottering, and apparently 
 unconscious of what was passing around her, with a 
 wound on the forehead which the partly dried blood made 
 still larger and more alarming, and Michel absolutely 
 livid, speaking in curt, broken words, Colette had felt 
 one of the most terrible fears of her life.
 
 APRIL'S LADY 225 
 
 The physician's visit had cheered her, but one would 
 have said that Michel dared not share his sister's relief ; 
 while she was speaking, he seemed to listen only by an 
 effort, his head bent, his manner dazed. 
 
 " Robert is sure that the doctor is not ;anxious ? " he 
 asked in an expressionless voice. 
 
 " Perfectly sure." 
 
 He went on in the same monotonous tone as if his 
 thoughts were far away : 
 
 " I think the very thick tall grass broke the fall a 
 little. I saw that it was a dry branch that cut her fore- 
 head." 
 
 Madame Fauvel went on talking gently, saying every- 
 thing which could reassure Michel. Since taking a 
 bath, Susy was feeling calmer and stronger. She suf- 
 fered a little pain in her head, but there was no fever, 
 no bad symptom. She had just fallen asleep. 
 
 Michel rose. " I am going," he said. 
 
 " But you will dine here ? " cried the young matron 
 astonished. 
 
 " No, I prefer to go home." 
 
 " Why, that would be absurd," Colette persisted. 
 " Stay, you shall hear how she is, perhaps even see 
 Susy." 
 
 " Oh ! I will come back after dinner." 
 
 " But, my poor brother, you are tired, exhausted." 
 
 "' I entreat you, Colette," he murmured ; " I must go 
 back." 
 
 He never knew how he found himself in his study in 
 the tower of Saint-Sylvere. With the precision of an 
 automaton, he had followed the familiar path. Fixed
 
 226 APRIL'S LADY 
 
 in his brain the same thought held possession of him: 
 " If she had been killed or seriously wounded ; if when I 
 raised her in my arms, I had no longer felt the beating 
 of her heart, or if I had seen her crushed, terribly mu- 
 tilated" 
 
 In a moment, in a few seconds! She was blooming, 
 full of health, talking, laughing, joyous, and all this 
 freshness, this youth, this joy might have been only a 
 memory. Yes, in so brief a time, all might have been 
 ended. Under the impression of the void seen for an 
 instant, Michel felt that for a month, the hope of mak- 
 ing Suzanne his own had been his whole life, his sole 
 cause for existence. And whatever he might do, how- 
 ever he might reason, he saw Suzanne dead, and like a 
 mechanical refrain constantly returned the two words: 
 " My darling, my darling " 
 
 A tearless sob shook his broad shoulders. And yet, 
 gradually, in spite of the anxiety which, notwithstand- 
 ing the physician's soothing words, did not abandon 
 hinif a strange joy entered his heart, absorbed his whole 
 being. For he no longer doubted, he knew well that he 
 loved the little April Fiancee chance had given him 
 loved her passionately.
 
 Part Third
 
 PART THIRD 
 
 M. OWARD eight o'clock, returning to Castelflore, 
 Michel was calmer. He found in the drawing-room 
 Monsieur Sainval, Monsieur Languille, and Robert, who 
 repeated what Colette had already said. Almost im- 
 mediately, Madame Fauvel entered and took her brother 
 to Suzanne's room. 
 
 The young girl was very pale, with a delicate pallor 
 that looked like ivory in contrast with the raw, bluer 
 whiteness of the sheets and pillows; her features had 
 gradually relaxed, and the nervous over-excitement 
 which had alarmed Colette and old Antoinette had 
 lessened. When Michel and his sister approached the 
 bed, Suzanne smiled sweetly, putting out her hand a 
 little. 
 
 The linen bandage that covered her forehead, beneath 
 which escaped a few rebellious curls, the short, curly 
 braid that lay on one side of her face, gave her an air 
 of extreme youth. Tremor had sworn to control his 
 emotion, but he was afraid to trust his voice. Without 
 speaking, he clasped the hand Miss Severn extended in 
 his own. 
 
 " Michel," said the young girl, " the doctor was very 
 gallant; he told me that I was like the children who 
 know how to fall without hurting themselves, that I was 
 
 an admirable rider, that I had shown a coolness worthy 
 
 229
 
 230 APRIL'S LADY 
 
 of praise, but on the whole, he was not quite certain that 
 some good genius might not be mixed up in the affair." 
 
 Then, in the plaintive voice which possibly was ren- 
 dered more languid by the unconscious coquetry of the 
 invalid who wants to be pitied, she added : 
 
 " I was terribly frightened, my poor Michel." 
 
 Tremor convulsively pressed the hand he had not yet 
 relinquished. 
 
 " So was I," he murmured. 
 
 " Poor brother," added Colette ; " he was as pale as 
 you." 
 
 Suzanne's eyes rested more intently on her future hus- 
 band. 
 
 " Then you would have been sorry if I had died ? " 
 
 He had the strength to smile. 
 
 " What a question ! Would not you have been sorry 
 if I had died?" 
 
 " Yes, I shciuld have been very sorry." 
 
 " But, tell me," he asked, kneeling beside the bed, 
 " you are not suffering; how do you feel? " 
 
 She shook her head slightly. 
 
 " I am not suffering ; I am very tired, and my head 
 aches a little, that is all. The doctor is right, Michel, it 
 is a miracle; only the doctor is an old unbeliever. For 
 my part, I thank God, Who has protected me. Oh! I 
 am very grateful to Him. I did not have the least wish 
 to die. You will thank Him, too, won't you ? " 
 
 " Yes, little Zanne." 
 
 She still smiled, looking so pretty, so sincere, that 
 tears rose to Michel's eyes. Stooping, he kissed the 
 curly braid, murmuring:
 
 APRIL'S LADY '231 
 
 " May you sleep well." 
 
 '* And you, too," she answered sweetly. 
 
 Then as Tremor reached the door, she called him back. 
 
 " And Pepa, Michel, my poor Pepa ? " 
 
 " She came down again quietly on her four hoofs, 
 your horrible Pepa," he said, mentally vowing never 
 again to trust his dearest possession to the " horrible 
 Pepa." 
 
 The next day Suzanne remained in bed, but the follow- 
 ing one she was allowed to sit up, on condition that for 
 two more she would keep absolutely quiet. 
 
 On reaching Castelflore, Michel found her in the 
 boudoir, where she was obediently lying down. She 
 wore one of Colette's dressing gowns, almost lost in the 
 folds of pink surah. A bluish ring still surrounded her 
 eyes, but her colour had returned. 
 
 At the moment Michel entered, Colette was standing 
 by the lounge, arranging some soft cushions under 
 Suzanne's head. 
 
 " Look, sir," she cried gaily, " here is a pretty little 
 girl playing sick in one of her mamma's gowns." 
 
 " Is it really a game ? " asked Tremor affectionately. 
 
 " Almost," murmured Suzanne. 
 
 She looked extremely comfortable, her head sunk 
 among the cushions. And Suzanne enjoyed feeling 
 herself really beloved by Colette, Monsieur Fauvel, 
 the friends who had hurried to Castelflore to en- 
 quire for her, above all, by this grave and sometimes 
 rude fiance, who had suddenly grown very gentle, al- 
 most tender. 
 
 " She is as pink as her gown," remarked the young
 
 232 APRIL'S LADY 
 
 man, his smiling eyes wandering from Suzanne to Col- 
 ette. 
 
 The young girl began to laugh happily. 
 
 " You are growing very complimentary, Michel," she 
 said. " It is nice to be sick." 
 
 She looked at Michel and then continued: 
 
 " But it is tiresome to keep quiet to order, when one 
 has quicksilver in one's veins. Two days, just think of 
 it! You will be as kind as Colette, you will stay with 
 me all day long to-day? " 
 
 " If you wish." 
 
 " And all day to-morrow ? " 
 
 " All day to-morrow. I will only go to Paris with 
 Robert in five days, when you are quite well." 
 
 He smiled. Suzanne longed to add : " To amuse me, 
 you will pay me court you know, as you were to do 
 on the ride we missed," but she held back the sentence, 
 fearing that Michel's reply might be terribly disap- 
 pointing. Then, grateful to him for deferring his de- 
 parture : 
 
 " Colette," she said, " compared with your brother, 
 the Good Samaritan was a very insignificant personage." 
 
 " It is certainly a great merit to spend the day with 
 you. I shall dispense with admiring him for it," replied 
 Colette. 
 
 Suzanne raised her eyes to see Michel, who sat a little 
 behind her. 
 
 " Perhaps other people might think as you do but 
 Michel." 
 
 The real Susy was still very much alive. It was the 
 old glance that sought Michel, asking a denial, and
 
 APRIL'S LADY 233 
 
 Michel, who had resolved not to flatter this ever-present 
 coquetry, affected silence, but his fiancee's hand lay on 
 the back of the lounge very near his face, and he could 
 not resist the temptation of pressing his lips to it, so 
 the young girl found the answer sufficient. 
 
 This time of captivity in the boudoir was very pleas- 
 ant. While Colette, bent over her frame, was em- 
 broidering, Tremor kept his promise. It was an ex- 
 quisite joy to him to spend these hours of intimacy with 
 Suzanne, but it was also a little intoxicating. Yet 
 Michel had not uttered one word of love. He was still 
 haunted by the fear that Susy would have gloried in 
 conquering the only man who had not declared himself 
 her humble slave, and he desired that a confession from 
 him should render her happy rather than triumphant. 
 
 Suzanne reasoned little. She allowed herself to en- 
 joy, with a sort of indolence, this sweet and subtle hap- 
 piness. 
 
 Once, not very long ago it was the night before 
 the ride prevented by the accident she had asked her- 
 self : " How do people know that they are in love ? " and 
 the question was not yet answered. 
 
 A complicated work had been accomplished in Su- 
 zanne's mind. She had seen love around her, and had 
 felt a vague desire to be the first, the only one in a manly 
 and tender soul. She had been jealous of Michel's inno- 
 cent attentions to Madame de Lorge, jealous even to 
 weeping of the woman formerly worshipped, of the 
 formidable shadow, which perhaps still stood between 
 her and her future husband. She had sobbed when, the 
 day after the ball, he had reproached her not in the name
 
 234 APRIL'S LADY 
 
 of an affection that would have touched her, but from 
 a sort of masculine pride which had seemed disgusting. 
 
 Then Michel was moved, he had besought her, he had 
 knelt before his fiancee. Ah! Suzanne had really had 
 one moment's never-to-be forgotten triumph, when she 
 saw Michel at her feet. And since that moment she 
 had felt with more intensity the impression which had 
 at first amazed her, that she no longer lived in the hours 
 of his absence. But was the feeling which thus took 
 so many forms and insinuated itself into Suzanne's life, 
 love? 
 
 Then there was the ride to Franchard, the accident 
 of the Butte-aux-Chevres. On opening her eyes, weak 
 and crushed as she was, Suzanne had noticed Michel's 
 pallor, met his despairing gaze, and had then felt so 
 calm, so calm and happy in the arms which supported 
 her. 
 
 And since? 
 
 Did Michel remember the promise made in the wood, 
 or was his heart moved solely by the thought of the dan- 
 ger incurred? Susy could not determine, but one fact 
 was undeniable : since the day at the Butte-aux-Chevres, 
 Michel had had " the manner of an engaged man." 
 True, he said nothing more than a brother might have 
 done; yet he gave her more notice, looked at her more 
 than a brother or a " comrade," and in his eyes, his 
 words, his silences, there was something which surprised 
 the young girl and rendered her strangely happy. 
 
 It was infinitely sweet to see this serious face brighten 
 when she smiled, this scornful man bow to the whims of 
 a poor little goose in a pink gown.
 
 APRIL'S LADY 235 
 
 Michel had proposed to read aloud to Miss Severn, 
 and the idea had pleased her, but at the word novel, she 
 had made a face. 
 
 " Do you like novels? " she asked. 
 
 " Yes, sometimes, as a rest, when they are well written 
 and not wholly devoid of ideas." 
 
 " For my part, when I want ideas, as you say, I don't 
 seek them in novels, and when I want chatter, I find 
 enough of it in society. There remain sentimental ad- 
 ventures " 
 
 "Well?" 
 
 " Well, when I think they are fictitious, they don't 
 interest me, and if I could suppose them real, that the 
 writer would reveal his personal life, I should condemn 
 him too much to enjoy them." 
 
 " Why ? " questioned Colette, amused. 
 
 " Because I think that when one has such memories, it 
 is better to keep them very closely to one's self; that is 
 all." 
 
 " Then what is to be read ? " asked Michel gently. 
 " Tell me what you are reading yourself; I will take up 
 where you left off." 
 
 " Thierry's Merovingian History," replied Miss Sev- 
 ern calmly. 
 
 " Doesn't it put you to sleep ? " cried Colette admir- 
 ingly. 
 
 " Put me to sleep ! Why, it is superb ! It is a whole 
 world resuscitated. We are in it, I tell you; we know 
 them, see them, understand with the ideas of their period, 
 all these vanished beings. It is more romantic than any 
 imaginable romance, if one cares for adventures, and
 
 236 APRIL'S LADY 
 
 yet it is actual life. Those are the kind of books I love." 
 
 They could not make her change. Colette concluded 
 that little Zanne was born to marry a historian, and 
 Michel read the book which aroused this enthusiasm. 
 
 Certainly this time of imprisonment was pleasant, so 
 pleasant that Susy, glad to feel still a little languor 
 oh ! very little did not think of going out, as the doc- 
 tor had given her permission. 
 
 The fourth day Michel obtained permission to read 
 poetry and, for more than an hour, he passed from 
 Musset's to Sully, Prudhomme, Coppee, Verlaine, and 
 Henri de Regnier, choosing only very refined, calm lines, 
 yet thrilling with an intense, restrained feeling, the 
 verse that can be read in that best moment of love which 
 is not when we have said, " / love you" 
 
 Suzanne at first listened with a sort of smiling scep- 
 ticism, then with wondering pleasure ; at last she was com- 
 pletely charmed. 
 
 Toward four o'clock Colette was summoned to receive 
 Monsieur Pontmaury and his son ; then Michel said : 
 
 " Do you want me to read you something I love 
 almost to suffering, whose every line seems to me to con- 
 tain a fibre of my flesh? I will not read you the whole ; 
 but these verses have a powerful charm for me." 
 
 " Read them," said the young girl. 
 
 Then opening the " Destinees " he read several lines 
 from the " House of the Shepherd," those in which the 
 poet laments the past, what " will never be seen twice," 
 where he addresses the woman he loves in caressing, lull- 
 ing lines :
 
 APRIL'S LADY 237 
 
 " Hast them no wish, O languid traveller, 
 Dreaming, thy brow upon my breast to lean? 
 Come, from the threshold of the rolling house, 
 Those who have passed and those who will, are seen. 
 All human scenes that rise pure minds before 
 Will glow for thee when, fronting our own door, 
 The long, long, silent land doth stretch, I ween. . . ." 
 
 With drooping lashes, her head resting against the 
 back of the armchair, Suzanne listened to this sorrowful 
 sigh of a very noble and very proud soul, but drawn by 
 an irresistible power, Michel's eyes left the page and 
 suddenly sought hers. He vaguely felt that at this 
 moment perhaps the first they understood each 
 other. The silence lasted scarcely a few seconds. He 
 dared not speak, trembling lest he was deceiving him- 
 self. 
 
 Hearing nothing more, Suzanne raised her heavy 
 lids, met the look whose caress rested upon her, and low- . 
 ered her eyes. 
 
 " No," she said, as if answering her own thoughts, 
 " you have not the soul of a pessimist. Those who 
 rebel against life are not the real pessimists, they are 
 the men who expect something from it, who believe in 
 happiness. You believe in it." 
 
 "And you?" he questioned in a very low tone. 
 
 " I believe in it, too," she murmured, " I believe in it 
 with all my heart." 
 
 But someone rapped lightly at the door. 
 
 " Are friends being received ? " asked a gentle voice, 
 
 " You, Mademoiselle, pray come in," cried Tremor,
 
 238 APRIL'S LADY 
 
 assuming, with a praiseworthy effort, the tone of a man 
 charmed by the surprise. 
 
 Simone slipped her brown head through the half- 
 open doorway, then entered. 
 
 " Did you come alone, Mademoiselle? " asked Michel 
 at the end of a moment. 
 
 " Therese is at home, still ill ; I am with Jacques. I 
 left him in the conservatory with Monsieur and Madame 
 Fauvel." 
 
 " I am going to join them." 
 
 And he went out, passing Antoinette, who was bring- 
 ing the tea.
 
 II 
 
 A3 UZANNE, on recovering from the confusion into 
 which Simone's unexpected arrival had thrown her, was 
 struck by the grayish pallor of the young girl's face. 
 
 " Have you been ill, Simone ? " she asked. " One 
 would think that " 
 
 But Simone quickly interrupted her. 
 
 "Not at all! "she cried. 
 
 Then, seizing the first pretext for changing the 
 course of Suzanne's ideas, she motioned to the letters 
 Antoinette had just brought in. 
 
 " Susy, don't let me keep you from reading them, I 
 beg you," she said. 
 
 " I have plenty of time," replied Miss Severn, 
 " I am receiving letters only from tradesmen. I had 
 news yesterday from the Bethunes. I would rather 
 talk." 
 
 " You are very kind," said Mademoiselle Chaze, with 
 somewhat forced enthusiasm. " Then let me congratu- 
 late you; you look splendidly. Therese will be so 
 pleased. Oh ! what a fright you gave us, you naughty 
 Susy." 
 
 The subject was fully discussed, while Suzanne served 
 the tea and the cakes, then Simone stooped and picked 
 up a little book which had fallen on the carpet. 
 
 " What are you reading ? oh ! Musset." 
 
 " Will you please put that down, Mademoiselle Si- 
 mone," cried Suzanne laughing. " Musset is not for 
 
 239
 
 240 APRIL'S LADY 
 
 little girls. He will do for grown-up ones like me. 
 And again, when the future husband permits it." 
 
 " But I know some of Musset's things, Suzanne. The 
 May Night, Lucie, Ninon " 
 
 " Dear me. I thought they were strict about your 
 reading." 
 
 " Therese is a little so but it is not Therese who 
 read Musset to me," said the young girl blushing. 
 
 " Come, come, who then ? " said Suzanne, amused. 
 
 But Mademoiselle Chaze's eyes filled with tears and, 
 suddenly putting her head on Suzanne's shoulder, the 
 poor child burst into tears. 
 
 " Oh ! Susy, Susy, I am very unhappy." 
 
 " I am certainly allotted to the part of confidante," 
 thought Susy. 
 
 She kissed Simone, then began to scold her gently. 
 
 " Come, Simone, little Simone what grieves you so ? 
 Haven't you confidence in me ? " 
 
 " Oh ! yes." 
 
 " Then speak frankly instead of crying. A secret is 
 so heavy when it is borne alone." 
 
 Simone smiled sadly. 
 
 " I am going to tell you it is rather hard but I 
 oh ! it is very hard." 
 
 " Do you want me to help you? It concerns a young 
 man " 
 
 " Oh ! Susy, how well you guess." 
 
 " This young man is the one who danced with you so 
 often at the Chesnaie ball, the one who read to you the 
 May Night and Ninon. It is Paul Reault." 
 
 " Yes."
 
 APRIL'S LADY 241 
 
 " That is no reason for you to hide your eyes, Si- 
 mone ; he loves you very much, and you you love him 
 a little, don't you? This is the beginning of the story. 
 Now I will listen." 
 
 " Oh, Suzanne, the story is so sad. The other day, 
 you know, the day you fell, Paul told me that he 
 that he " 
 
 "That he loved you?" 
 
 " Yes. And I was so happy, so happy but oh ! 
 Suzanne, Jacques is not willing that I should be Paul's 
 wife. They quarrelled, Paul has gone and oh ! I 
 am afraid he will blow his brains out." 
 
 Cruel as it might seem, Miss Severn could not help 
 laughing. 
 
 " No, my dear, no ; in the first place poor Paul has so 
 few brains; then people don't kill themselves when they 
 are young, energetic, and beloved by a sweet little girl 
 like you. Let us reason instead of crying. What does 
 Therese say ? Is she as savage as her Jacques ? " 
 
 " Therese was very kind. She tried to comfort me, 
 she calmed her husband a little, and she told me that 
 Jacques would certainly consent to our marriage if Paul 
 was courageous, patient, and tried to obtain a situation. 
 But a situation isn't to be had in a hurry." 
 
 " Oh, Simone, more tears. Then the important thing 
 is that Paul should become very sensible. Is he inclined 
 to be? " 
 
 "Oh lyes." 
 
 " Then I have an idea ; listen, darling," said Suzanne, 
 a thought suddenly flashing through her mind. " I 
 will speak to Michel about "
 
 242 APRIL'S LADY 
 
 " To Monsieur Tremor? " 
 
 " Why not ? I know by chance that a friend of 
 Michel, Monsieur Daran, whose father owns distilleries 
 in Louisville, is looking for an engineer. Oh! 
 he would have to go to America. Would Paul make up 
 his mind to that? " 
 
 " I am sure he would, Suzanne. And I would go 
 with him," cried the young girl. " But suppose Mon- 
 sieur Daran or Monsieur Tremor did not wish it? " she 
 went on in alarm. 
 
 *' Monsieur Daran will want whatever Monsieur Tre- 
 mor asks of him ; I am certain of that, Simone. As 
 for Monsieur Tremor I will try to be very eloquent. 
 Perhaps Monsieur Tremor will wish what I ask," Su- 
 zanne continued with a sort of joyous pride. " He is 
 very fond of your brother-in-law, and of Paul 
 And I hope Paul will try to be a model engineer." 
 
 " Oh ! Susy, how I love you ! " cried Simone, throwing 
 her arms around Miss Severn's neck. " And we shall be 
 happy, even in America. Paul loves me so much. And 
 I love him. Ah! Susy, we shall have such a charming 
 home ! " 
 
 Suzanne smiled; she suddenly felt indulgent to this joy 
 of loving at which formerly she was disposed to jest, 
 though somewhat bitterly. 
 
 When Simone had gone she closed her eyes in a sort of 
 rapture, asking herself what words Michel had had on 
 his lips at the time she entered. 
 
 If he should come and say what, perhaps, he had 
 thought just now: 
 
 " I love you, Susy ; I have forgotten that beautiful
 
 APRIL'S LADY 243 
 
 Comtesse Wronska; there is for me only one woman in 
 the world, and that is you, my dear little fiancee, my 
 darling, I love you." Oh ! if he should say these words, 
 if he should say something she could not foresee which 
 would be very strange and very sweet on his lips. She 
 had a great longing for these decisive words, yet such 
 a fear of them that she already heard herself saying 
 all sorts of foolish things, to delay the moment for which 
 her soul was yearning. 
 
 In the weariness of waiting, she suddenly saw the 
 letters Antoinette had brought in, and absently opened 
 the first envelope under her hand. Her glance wan- 
 dered over the paper, then suddenly darted to the signa- 
 ture, while her cheeks paled. 
 
 " Comtesse Wronska," she said, almost aloud. 
 
 For an instant she hesitated, but only an instant. Let 
 her who is without sin cast the first stone. 
 
 The note began: 
 
 " My friend . . ." 
 
 Suzanne read on: 
 
 " BARBIZON, Friday. 
 " My Friend: 
 
 " I can call you so, can I not ? There are hours when 
 it would be so sweet to rely upon one true friendship. 
 I shall be at Barbizon two days, and would like to see 
 you; to ask your advice, to talk business. Can you 
 imagine it? I, who detest business, but it must be done. 
 I am trying to realise on the little property I possess, 
 and I feel very lonely, very much deserted, having no 
 one to consult except my poor mother.
 
 244 APRIL'S LADY 
 
 " Come, I entreat you ; give me a moment of your life. 
 Oh ! I know that the past, the hapless past, which awoke 
 for one instant on the shore at Trouville, to which chance 
 had led me, is not dead between us. But by a strange 
 contradiction, something still draws us together; it is 
 that neither is happy ; we cannot be. You are going 
 to marry through discouragement a young girl to whom 
 you are indifferent, an insignificant child who will not 
 understand you, and whom you will never love. 
 I have ruined my life, and shall bear the burden of my 
 error. It is very heavy.' 
 
 " I shall see you soon, my dear Michel, shall I not ? 
 
 " COMTESSE WRONSKA. 
 
 " P.S. Not knowing your address at Paris or Rivailler, 
 I am sending my letter to Castelflore." 
 
 Suzanne had twice paused, choking, her brow covered 
 with a cold perspiration. When she had finished, she 
 laid the letter by her side; her hands shook with pas- 
 sionate rage. O ! that woman ! that woman ! Suzanne 
 had always feared this, always! So Michel had seen 
 Comtesse Wronska again. He still loved her, since this 
 creature's mere presence " awoke the past," since the 
 woman whom he had formerly loved dared to address him 
 as her friend, her only friend. 
 
 Through the young girl's fevered brain darted ideas 
 which were sometimes translated into words and sen- 
 tences : " Oh ! cruel, cruel ! He said that he would never 
 love me, that I did not know how to understand him! 
 And this before even knowing me ! Oh ! how spiteful 
 men are and stupid ! Perhaps this Faustine is neither
 
 APRIL'S LADY 245 
 
 prettier nor more intelligent than I am. Oh ! she is 
 bold enough ; to write in that way ! ' My friend, 
 my dear Michel ! ' As if he were hers, as if she had 
 the right to say my! Was I mad to believe that Michel 
 loved me? And I was going to love him, the hateful 
 fellow, perhaps let him see it. But I don't love him, 
 oh ! no, I don't I hate him. . . . If he thinks I 
 am going to condescend to be jealous of his comtesse, 
 he's mistaken ; I don't care, oh ! I don't care ! " 
 
 In her wrath, the poor child $d not attempt to con- 
 sider the letter which had snatched her from her vague 
 happiness, to give truth and possible exaggeration their 
 due share, above all, to allot Michel his exact portion 
 of wrongdoing. She knew that Michel had again seen 
 Comtesse Wronska, whose mysterious influence she had 
 always feared, that he had spoken to this woman of his 
 poor little fiancee, spoken of her with disdain 
 Oh! that was worse than everything! How sure Com- 
 tesse Wronska must have felt of Michel to thus summon 
 the man whom she had formerly betrayed, deserted, the 
 miserable creature! He would go to Barbizon; 
 he would once more see the enchantress, and then 
 then he would forget the wrong formerly done, and 
 poor little Zanne. 
 
 A heavy sob escaped Miss Severn's breast, but anger 
 dried her tears, for she heard the familiar step she had 
 just expected so joyfully, and she did not wish to have 
 the executioner see his victim weep. 
 
 The executioner had little thought of Comtesse 
 Wronska, to whom he had not given the slightest sign 
 of life since their meeting at Trouville. He opened
 
 246 APRIL'S LADY 
 
 the door eagerly, like a happy man, and entered, his 
 eyes shining with a gentle light. 
 
 " Here I am at last," he said. " Monsieur Pont- 
 maury has carried off Jacques and Mademoiselle Chaze 
 in his automobile, I " 
 
 Then he was struck by the change in Suzanne's face 
 and, clasping her hands, asked : 
 
 " My Susy, what is the matter? " 
 
 She abruptly released herself. 
 
 " Here is a letter for you, Michel. Antoinette gave 
 it to me, and I opened it by mistake. Take your prop- 
 erty." 
 
 On recognising Faustine's handwriting, Michel half 
 understood. His first impulse was to assure Suzanne 
 that he loved only herself, his fiancee, and that no tie 
 existed between him and that woman, but we rarely yield 
 to the first impulse, especially when it is the good 
 one. 
 
 " Will you explain," he said, " how it happens that 
 you opened a letter addressed to me? " 
 
 " I have told you that it was given to me, I opened 
 it by mistake, and I read it because because the 
 first words made me wish to know the rest, that is all. 
 But don't be uneasy ; I shall not repeat the experience." 
 
 " You will be wise." 
 
 If Susy had wept or even showed a little grief, Michel 
 would have been kneeling at her feet, but still quivering 
 with the anger of her wounded pride, Miss Severn would 
 have blushed to yield to such weakness. 
 
 Michel had read the letter to the end, perhaps to keep 
 himself in countenance. He again glanced over it.
 
 APRIL'S LADY 247 
 
 Suzanne, exasperated, went on with clenched teeth : 
 
 " You shall not go to Barbizon ; you shall not go ; I 
 forbid it." 
 
 Tremor raised his eyes and looked steadily at the 
 young girl. 
 
 " You forbid me ? " he repeated. 
 
 Then he interrupted himself; Suzanne's eyes were 
 glittering, he thought he saw a tear in them. 
 
 " Come," he said, trying to take her hands again ; 
 " don't get so excited ; it is absurd. I grew angry too 
 soon. I was sharp, I let me explain " 
 
 She pushed him away with a nervous laugh. 
 
 " Explain how badly the insignificant child* under- 
 stands the great man you are? Thank you. It is 
 enough to have told that horrible woman." 
 
 Suddenly chilled, Tremor had recoiled. Ah! it was 
 that sentence of Comtesse Wronska which had wounded 
 Suzanne! She was humiliated. 
 
 " Then," he replied, " you believe I could have said 
 that you were insignificant and that you did not under- 
 stand me? Do me the honour to think that, if I had 
 so considered you, I should not have had the bad taste 
 to make Comtesse Wronska my confidante." 
 
 In all sincerity, Michel did not remember having ex- 
 pressed such an opinion. His recollection of the strange, 
 brief interview on the jetty of Trouville was not at all 
 definite. What he did know was that when Comtesse 
 Wronska's presence evoked the phantom of Faustine 
 Morel, he had not given his poor little fiancee a single 
 thought. 
 
 " You did not tell her either that you were marrying
 
 248 APRIL'S LADY 
 
 from discouragement? You have said as much to me. 
 I am not so insignificant as I look, and I can read." 
 
 Miss Severn had risen, standing very straight in her 
 long gown ; each word farther complicated the misunder- 
 standing. A single one would have brought together 
 these two people who loved each other, but it had risen 
 to the lips of neither. Their hearts suffered, but their 
 pride uttered the plaint of these wounded hearts. Both 
 were right and both wrong ; there lay the secret of their 
 miserable quarrel. Yet Suzanne was so pale that Michel 
 was alarmed. His fiancee, perhaps, did not love him. 
 But he loved her. Whether the suffering that blanched 
 her face was vanity or grief, he felt her pain and wanted 
 to relieve it. 
 
 " I beg you," he said again, " calm yourself. I 
 swear that I have said nothing to Comtesse Wronska 
 that could offend your dignity ; I swear . . ." 
 
 She had taken a few steps, choking a little, but with 
 her head held high. 
 
 " What is the use of so many words," she interrupted 
 with infinite impertinence. " Go to Barbizon, my dear 
 friend, and enjoy there all the happiness possible 
 . . . awake the past! Perhaps this time no Comte 
 Wronski will appear. You must not be too resent- 
 ful or too proud. Go, go, it is the best thing for you 
 to do." 
 
 This sarcasm enraged Tremor. 
 
 " Ah, that is the best thing for me to do," he cried. 
 " Well, I will go ; you are right ; I will go all the more 
 because I cannot understand through what ridiculous 
 feeling of pride you could consider as an insult my
 
 APRIL'S LADY 249 
 
 visit to two women who are very lonely and very un- 
 happy. As to the past, have no anxiety ; nothing could 
 wake it ; it is wholly dead . . . and my heart too. 
 I will follow your advice, Suzanne, and go to Barbizon 
 to-morrow." 
 
 " If you do, Michel," Suzanne instantly retorted, 
 contradicting herself with more angry excitement than 
 sound logic, " I tell you that everything will be over 
 between us." 
 
 Michel shrugged his shoulders. 
 
 " What you say is childish ; you know that as well as 
 I do." 
 
 " Childish? I don't believe it. I'll marry somebody 
 else." 
 
 " Whom, if you please? " asked the young man. 
 
 Suzanne drew herself up, exclaiming furiously : 
 
 " Who tells you that I love no one, that I have not 
 suffered and struggled ? " 
 
 He vainly tried to control himself. 
 
 " Oh, why, I beg to enquire? I suppose nothing 
 compelled you to accept my offer ? " 
 
 She looked at him scornfully, then in a stinging 
 voice : 
 
 " You forget my love of money, my dear friend." 
 
 Tremor almost cried out in his pain, but he bit his 
 lips. 
 
 " Do not suffer, do not struggle, Suzanne," he said 
 with great calmness ; " only reflect I do not know 
 whether I am acquainted with the happy mortal to 
 whom you allude, but I might break his head before your 
 wedding day . . ."
 
 250 APRIL'S LADY 
 
 " Oh, I don't care," answered Suzanne with the ut- 
 most sincerity. 
 
 Flung into the midst of the quarrel, this little ab- 
 surdity seemed to Michel positively delicious. In the 
 depths of his soul, perhaps, he had instantly appreciated 
 the young girl's threats at their real value, but for an 
 instant the idea that his fiancee might love another had 
 maddened him to a degree that made him see red, and 
 he had talked as foolishly as Suzanne herself. 
 
 " You have made me forget," he said, recovering his 
 self-control, " that you are only a spoiled child. But 
 listen to me let me speak, I beg," he added with 
 authority. " I have told you that I no longer loved 
 Comtesse Wronska. I repeat it. I also repeat what I 
 said just now, that nothing was said between her and 
 myself for which your pride would have a right to re- 
 proach me. I met the comtesse at Trouville by accident, 
 the night before my departure for Norway. I have not 
 seen her since. Nevertheless, I shall go to Barbizon to- 
 morrow, first because I shall thus perform an act of 
 courtesy, and then because I wish to show you that, 
 however ready I may be to fulfil the wishes you choose to 
 express, I shall never receive orders from anyone." 
 
 Suzanne clenched her hands, burying the nails in the 
 palms but, in her rage, found no words to answer. 
 
 " I am somewhat rude," added Tremor, " but I 
 warned you that I had a very bad temper." 
 
 There was a silence, then he said more gently : 
 
 " I will return to the tower of Saint-Sylvere ; it will 
 be better for us both. We shall be calmer to-mor- 
 row."
 
 APRIL'S LADY 251 
 
 He had a confused hope for a word that would detain 
 him, but Suzanne's answer was very distinct. 
 
 " You are right ; go away ; it is infinitely better. 
 Good-bye." 
 
 Yet Miss Severn mechanically put out her hand, and 
 Michel had a cowardly desire to draw the young girl 
 suddenly into his arms and tell her that she had nothing 
 to fear from Comtesse Wronska nor any other woman, 
 and at a single word, the most repentant, the most hum- 
 ble of men would give up going to Barbizon. But he 
 knew how to be brave and, pressing very slightly the hand 
 extended to him, he left the room. 
 
 A few seconds after, Colette entered; Suzanne had 
 quickly taken up a book. 
 
 " What is the matter, little Zanne ? " asked Madame 
 Fauvel affectionately. " Michel came to bid me fare- 
 well, with some foolish excuse." 
 
 " We had a little quarrel, for a trifle, as usual," re- 
 plied Suzanne. 
 
 She had the reserve of her grief, and besides she 
 feared the indiscretion of Colette, who often talked at 
 random. Michel must know nothing of what was pass- 
 ing in her mind, or the tears burning on her lashes, 
 which she would not let flow. 
 
 " A lover's quarrel? " 
 
 " Yes." And Miss Severn spoke of the Pontmaurys.
 
 Ill 
 
 1\JL ICHEL was less compassionate than he had af- 
 fected to be concerning the fate of the two " lonely and 
 unhappy women," who appealed to him for aid. He 
 had long since lost all illusion about Madame Morel's 
 character, and now thought he knew Faustine too well to 
 be the dupe of the sincerity of her despair. At Paris, 
 and again at Trouville, he had thought he understood 
 that Stanislas Wronski's widow was ready to refasten the 
 broken chain. The beautiful comtesse was now risking 
 a last play ; she summoned a friend, and hoped to keep 
 a husband. 
 
 This was what Michel had read in the lines of bitter 
 resignation from Barbizon. The brilliant siren who had 
 dazzled the Russian court would consider the love of her 
 former admirer only as a last resort. Doubtless the 
 pleasure of taking from Miss Severn a future husband 
 whom, perhaps, she loved, might attract Faustine; but 
 let another Comte Wronski appear, and farewell to the 
 renewed idyl ! 
 
 Indifference is merciful: Michel forgave Comtesse 
 Wronska her present calculation and her past disdain, 
 but there was in the unlucky letter a sentence referring 
 to Suzanne which had irritated him, though he had 
 avoided saying so to the young girl. 
 
 A moment had sufficed to restore Michel's doubts. 
 Was he loved? He did not know, and yet he felt that
 
 APRIL'S LADY 253 
 
 even if he were his life would be none the less 
 anxious and disturbed. He could never shake off the 
 memory of what Susy had recalled the evening before 
 by a childish remark which, however, expressed an actual 
 fact. In consenting to marry her cousin, Miss Severn 
 had thought of little except the fortune offered. Now, 
 at the time when perhaps the avowal of his love was 
 expected, desired for with much pride there had also 
 been a little emotion thrilling through Suzanne's anger 
 
 discouragement overwhelmed Michel. Yet how he 
 worshipped the capricious child ! With what j oy he was 
 coming to her when he found her pale, with Faustine's 
 letter in her hand! Her displeasure was natural, but 
 why should she have expressed only rage and humilia- 
 tion? Why had not she wept? Why had she sought 
 and instantly found the most cruel things that could be 
 said? 
 
 Now Suzanne must know that she was not permitted 
 to say : " I forbid," when she scorned to say : " I en- 
 treat you . . ." 
 
 So he had determined to go to Barbizon, and the day 
 after the quarrel he went to the station, feeling much 
 more inclined to shut himself up in the tower of Saint- 
 Sylvere with his books, than to listen to Madame Wron- 
 ska's woes. 
 
 To his surprise, the name awaked only a very distant 
 echo. His anger was subsiding. Faustine said she was 
 unhappy. Perhaps, after all, she was. Gently, with 
 deep respect, he would show her that she was on the 
 wrong path. His whole happiness was the love of 
 Suzanne. But if his advice was requested, he would en-
 
 254 APRIL'S LADY 
 
 deavour to be the trustworthy friend of which the letter 
 spoke. 
 
 While thinking of these things, Tremor heard some 
 one call him and saw Daran, whom he did not expect in 
 Rivailler until the following week. 
 
 They walked side by side a moment, then Daran asked 
 where Michel was going. 
 
 " I take the eleven o'clock train," he answered in a 
 somewhat resigned tone ; " I am going to Barbizon." 
 
 " To Barbizon, all alone ? On business ? " 
 
 " Yes, on business." 
 
 " Is it very urgent? " 
 
 " Yes and no," Michel again replied, indifferently. 
 
 " Is there no way of writing? And we would pass a 
 pleasant day together. I have brought a lot of things 
 to my house, and I have so much to tell you. Doesn't 
 that tempt you ? " 
 
 It did tempt him greatly. He was not in the mood 
 for confidences, but it seemed as if talking about old 
 times would divert his thoughts. Yet he hesitated. On 
 no account must Suzanne believe that he had surrendered. 
 
 " Are you afraid of vexing your fiancee ? " asked 
 Daran. 
 
 " No ; she is not expecting me to-day." 
 
 " Capital ! Come, Tremor, is there no way of putting 
 off your business." 
 
 " Yes," Michel at last answered, still somewhat un- 
 decidedly. 
 
 " Then I'll carry you off," cried Daran ; " you shall 
 write at my house. I'll send the letter to the station, 
 and we won't part until the evening."
 
 APRIL'S LADY 255 
 
 Miss Severn had not slept much the night before. In 
 the evening she had said she was going back to her 
 former mode of life, which the doctor had already au- 
 thorised. 
 
 So the next morning she prepared to deaden her 
 grief and the disagreeable reflections which could not 
 fail to assail her all day. Not, content with accompany- 
 ing Colette to Precroix, she talked, laughed, and did her 
 best to enter into the noisy welcome bestowed by Claude 
 and the two little girls. Yet her imagination wandered 
 far away, beneath the great trees of Barbizon, where, 
 leaning on the arm of someone she knew well, moved a 
 light, graceful figure. 
 
 She involuntarily pictured Comtesse Wronska as very 
 beautiful, very different from a certain little American 
 girl alas ! She gave her a tall, slender person, bands 
 of velvety black hair framing classic features, and a lily 
 complexion. How could Michel help comparing Faus- 
 tine's statuesque profile with poor Susy's little mobile 
 face? 
 
 Suzanne felt, at times, so little able to please him! 
 She knew that she was pretty, at least that many people 
 thought her so ; but she could not define her own charm, 
 far less consciously make it a power. And in Michel's 
 presence, she felt disarmed; all struggle was vain. 
 
 That day Suzanne thought herself ugly and ill- 
 dressed. Comtesse Wronska had only to appear to con- 
 quer. And yet, why had Michel chosen his fiancee? 
 Comtesse Wronska was a widow, and Michel knew it at 
 the very time he had asked for the hand of Suzanne 
 Severn.
 
 256 APRIL'S LADY 
 
 Thus Suzanne tried to soothe her anxieties, while lis- 
 tening absently to May Bethune's chatter. She told 
 herself that Michel was no longer the indifferent lover of 
 the early days of their engagement; she lived over the 
 previous hours spent in Colette's little drawing-room. 
 Then, returning to her jealous fears, she jeered at her- 
 self. Michel had been touched by the danger of a deli- 
 cate creature, but how far removed from real love was 
 this vague affection or trivial pity! One look from 
 Faustine would forever destroy this budding tenderness. 
 Michel had been unable to resist Comtesse Wronska's en- 
 treaty. She had said : " I shall be two days in Bar- 
 bizon," and on the first day he had joined her. Yet 
 Miss Severn still wondered if Michel had carried out his 
 intention. Nothing proved that he had gone to Bar- 
 bizon and, if he had, nothing proved that he had talked 
 with Comtesse Wronska about anything except busi- 
 ness. 
 
 The meeting at Trouville had been purely accidental, 
 and nothing had been said which could offend his 
 fiancee. Michel had told her so in a tone which gave a 
 simple assertion the value of an oath. The idea of 
 doubting his words had never come to Susy. 
 
 Alas ! he might answer for the past, he might protest 
 that his intentions were loyal, but when he had seen the 
 charmer. . . . Susy longed to avenge herself upon 
 someone, Michel even more than Faustine. 
 
 On returning home she tried to read a novel, but her 
 eyes scanned the pages in vain. Then a letter was 
 brought to her, dated at a village near Rivailler, and 
 containing a heartbroken message from poor Paul.
 
 APRIL'S LADY 257 
 
 "Dear Miss Susy: 
 
 " Jacques and Therese think I am in Paris, so does 
 Simone, but I did not have the courage to go away. 
 You know that my happiness depends upon Jacques's 
 consent he is his sister-in-law's guardian ; this consent 
 has been refused, and my sole hope is in you. Two per- 
 sons only have sufficient influence over my brother to 
 make him change a decision that he has once taken, The- 
 rese and Michel. We have won over Therese, but 
 Michel, whose intercession might perhaps be decisive, is 
 too great a philosopher himself not to be a little hard 
 upon blunderers like me. He will plead my cause only 
 when you have persuaded him, dear Miss Susy. Michel 
 worships you, and he is right. Let your voice and your 
 pretty eyes take part in the matter, and all will go well. 
 
 " To-morrow, Monday, I will be at the hunting lodge 
 at the cross-roads of the Stone-Cross from four to 
 six o'clock. If you and Michel will ride in that direc- 
 tion, it will be a great happiness to the poor wretch who 
 here assures you, dear good fairy, of his most respectful 
 and absolute devotion. 
 
 " Your friend, 
 
 " PAUL." 
 
 " Poor Paul ! " murmured Suzanne. 
 
 The exclamation meant also : " Poor Suzanne ! You 
 must address yourself to Comtesse Wronska, Paul; the 
 eloquence of the pretty eyes in which you trust is likely 
 to be disdained. As for the ride to the Stone-Cross, what 
 irony ! Michel has little idea of riding with his fiancee. 
 
 "Poor, poor Paul!"
 
 258 APRIL'S LADY 
 
 The young girl did not dwell long upon this thought. 
 The romance of Paul Reault and Simone Chaze seemed 
 as commonplace as the yellow-covered book brought 
 from Precroix. There was only one romance in the 
 world, the one which had commenced on a certain March 
 day, very poetically, beneath the bluish light of a Gothic 
 glass window, near the mysterious tomb of a crusader. 
 
 Miss Severn had avoided confiding in or complaining 
 to her cousin who, in her joy at seeing May Bethune, had 
 asked no questions. Before dinner, Monsieur Fauvel, 
 who had just entered with Michel, remarked that Suzanne 
 was pale, and the young girl felt her fiancee's eyes rest- 
 ing upon her, but she answered gaily that she felt per- 
 fectly well. 
 
 Michel seemed to have forgotten the discussion of the 
 evening before. He had held out his hand to Susy as 
 usual, even addressing a few words to her. What did 
 this attitude mean? That he had gone to Barbizon, or 
 that he had given up seeing Faustine ? 
 
 Sitting beside Colette, Suzanne feigned absolute indif- 
 ference, but Michel's composure exasperated her. He 
 had questioned Colette about the visit to the Bethune's, 
 but had made no allusion to the employment of his own 
 time during this interminable day. 
 
 To tell the truth, it would have cost Michel something 
 to confess what his pride considered as a sort of retreat. 
 
 The letter written at Daran's to Comtesse Wronska 
 a masterpiece of respectful courtesy in which, with an 
 appearance of spontaneity, well-calculated things were 
 said would have afforded Susy the delight of a 
 triumph, and Michel did not think she deserved it. He
 
 APRIL'S LADY 259 
 
 had resolved to leave the young girl in complete uncer- 
 tainty. 
 
 Susy could bear no more, she longed to cry out : 
 
 " If you have seen this woman, I want to know it ; tell 
 me ; tell me quickly. Whatever the truth may be, I pre- 
 fer it to the ignorance that is preying upon me." 
 
 She still watched him, while he went on talking, play- 
 ing mechanically with the envelope of Paul Reault's 
 letter. But what was the use? He was speaking of 
 Monsieur Pontmaury, of the Stock Exchange. 
 
 He had certainly seen Faustine ; he looked happy at 
 least Susy thought so. What had taken place between 
 them ? At any rate, what did he care for having caused 
 her so much uneasiness ! Oh ! he was cruel. 
 
 As Suzanne was reaching the climax of a paroxysm of 
 rage an idea crossed her mind, and a little smile parted 
 her compressed lips. 
 
 With a sudden movement she seized the envelope 
 Michel held, and snatched it from him. He glanced at 
 the young girl in surprise; then she lowered her lashes 
 with a somewhat confused manner, saying quickly : 
 
 " I beg your pardon, that continual movement of your 
 hand sets my nerves on edge." 
 
 But Michel still gazed at her, trying to see the en- 
 velope she was hiding. 
 
 " Is that a letter you received this evening? " he could 
 not help asking. 
 
 " Of course. Then you did not see it? " 
 
 " I did not see it." 
 
 Susy hurriedly tore in pieces the envelope she had 
 grasped, put them in her pocket, and bent over her book.
 
 260 APRIL'S LADY 
 
 Michel continued his discussion with Monsieur Fauvel, 
 but Miss Severn's object was attained; while still speak- 
 ing of stocks, rumors of the Exchange, etc., he secretly 
 glanced at her and, in the evening, he did the same thing 
 several times. 
 
 Struck by the rapidity with which the envelope was 
 seized and destroyed, Michel had doubtless been vaguely 
 uneasy. So much the better ! He would suffer, wounded 
 in his fine masculine vanity, and imagining all sorts of 
 things. 
 
 " I should like to be sure he isn't sleeping well," she 
 said to herself several times in the course of the night, 
 sleeping very badly herself. 
 
 Then she changed her mind : " I am sure that if he 
 isn't sleeping well, he is thinking of that woman." 
 
 The next morning, when Michel came to lunch at 
 Castleflore, she felt actually savage. Her plan was 
 made. 
 
 She would go alone to the lodge of the Stone-Cross, 
 and avail herself of the appointment with Paul to create 
 a mystery. 
 
 She must not think of " losing " the letter from 
 Simone's lover ; it was far too plain. Miss Severn took 
 another course. First she waited for a question from 
 Tremor, who often asked her plans for the afternoon 
 then, the enquiry not coming, she took the offensive with- 
 out farther delay. 
 
 " At what hour did you order the carriage, Co- 
 .lette? " 
 
 " Two o'clock, was that right? " 
 
 " Exactly."
 
 APRIL'S LADY 261 
 
 It was Monsieur Fauvel who questioned, somewhat 
 absently : 
 
 " Where are you going, Susy ? " 
 
 " To Marguerite Sainval's." 
 
 "All alone?" 
 
 " Yes ; Colette isn't going." 
 
 Silence followed. 
 
 " Michel," said Suzanne, " in returning from the 
 Michauds', will it be much longer to pass around by the 
 Stone-Cross?" 
 
 The young man seemed surprised. 
 
 "No, why?" 
 
 " What road do you take? The one at the right of 
 the Michauds' door? " 
 
 "Yes but " 
 
 " Why do you ask that ? " said Colette smiling. 
 
 " Oh ! nothing, just to know." 
 
 The conversation changed. Robert and Michel were 
 to take one of the morning trains. They expected to 
 remain in Paris two or three days, and Colette over- 
 whelmed her husband with messages to the concierge and 
 all the summer members of the household in their home 
 in the Rue de Tilsitt. 
 
 " Colette," said Susy suddenly, as if she was pursuing 
 the same idea, " may I go to the Michauds', after my 
 visit to Marguerite ? " 
 
 " You will not be too tired? " 
 
 " Why no, since you are giving me the carriage." 
 
 " Do as you please, darling." 
 
 The young girl suddenly threw her arms around Ma- 
 dame Fauvel's neck.
 
 262 APRIL'S LADY 
 
 " Thank you, my Colinette, thank you ! " 
 
 " What a madcap ! " exclaimed Colette, affectionately 
 returning the kiss. 
 
 Susy cast a furtive glance at Michel, then murmured: 
 
 " Pardon me ; I am nervous since my accident, you 
 see " 
 
 And going to the other end of the drawing-room, she 
 sat down at the piano, lightly touching the keys. Al- 
 most instantly Michel rose and leaned on the instrument 
 opposite to her. 
 
 " Do you want me to go with you to Chesnaie? " he 
 asked. 
 
 She hastily stopped playing. 
 
 " That would be absurd ! I am going to see Mar- 
 guerite." 
 
 " Well, to the Michauds'. I would go to Chesnaie for 
 you, at any hour you appoint." 
 
 " No, I thank you." 
 
 "Why?" 
 
 " Because it would worry me. I want to be alone." 
 
 Michel looked at his fiancee more intently. 
 
 " Is my nose crooked? " she asked impatiently. 
 
 " No, but you are strange. Yesterday you seemed 
 gay astonishingly so ; I thought you had almost re- 
 turned to conciliatory feelings, and now . . ." 
 
 " Now, I am very gay and not at all vexed with you. 
 You know our quarrels always end so. That is the way 
 with engaged people who are eager to make up. We 
 forget." 
 
 " If you have forgotten," the young man insisted,
 
 APRIL'S LADY 263 
 
 " why do you refuse me permission to accompany 
 you?" 
 
 " I told you because I want to be alone." 
 
 She stopped, then with a somewhat equivocal air of 
 raillery : 
 
 " And suppose I, too, had an appointment with 
 somebody ? " 
 
 Tremor's face darkened. 
 
 " There are jests which are not at all droll, you 
 know." 
 
 " Really ? " replied little Zanne, with great imperti- 
 nence. 
 
 Then she went away. She was satisfied; Michel had 
 turned a trifle pale. A few minutes after, he came to 
 her. 
 
 " You will keep the carriage at the Michauds', won't 
 you?" 
 
 " I do not know." 
 
 " You will be much too tired to return on foot but, 
 if you absolutely insist upon wasting your strength, let 
 little Louis Michaud go with you through the wood. 
 The days are already much shorter; be prudent." 
 
 " I will see." 
 
 These laconic answers had a touch of defiance. 
 
 " Susy," cried Tremor, " you are planning some piece 
 of folly." 
 
 " Perhaps so," she answered with great calmness. 
 
 The young man felt exasperated. 
 
 " Susy, I " he began. 
 
 But he restrained himself.
 
 264 APRIL'S LADY 
 
 " No," he said, between his teeth, " you shall not have 
 the satisfaction of making 1 me angry, which you have 
 been trying to do for half an hour. I really don't know 
 why I spend my time in listening to your nonsense." 
 
 And he went to take up a paper.
 
 IV 
 
 S Susy crossed the vestibule, ready for the drive, her 
 fresh face framed in a white hat, her dainty figure in a 
 blue foulard, trimmed with lace, she met Michel. 
 
 " You look queer," she flung at him over her shoulder. 
 "Where are you going? To Barbizon? " 
 
 " To Daran's," replied Tremor curtly. 
 
 " Daran? Has he come? " 
 
 " Yes, yesterday." 
 
 They had gone down the steps. Susy sprang lightly 
 into the carriage, sat down, arranged her gown on the 
 seat, and looked at the young man. 
 
 " Why do you look so queer? " 
 
 " How queer, if you please? " replied .Michel impa- 
 tiently. 
 
 " I don't know exactly preoccupied, or else 
 stop, it's something like the expression I sometimes had 
 when grandmother had told me the story of Little Red 
 Riding Hood, and I was a little afraid afraid of the 
 wolf, you know." 
 
 Michel shrugged his shoulders and, as the presence of 
 the servants prevented any reply, made a sign to the 
 coachman. The horses instantly dashed forward. 
 
 Suzanne was jubilant, if the word can be applied to 
 the angry excitement which thrilled her at the thought 
 that Michel would spend the day in struggling with the 
 
 doubts and suspicions that had beset her since the even- 
 
 S6&
 
 266 APRIL'S LADY 
 
 ing before, and perhaps pass the afternoon in wander- 
 ing about the wood, between the Michauds' house and the 
 Stone-Cross, that the proud fellow would be jealous in 
 his turn. 
 
 Miss Severn somewhat exaggerated the effect of her 
 little manoeuvres upon her fiance. 
 
 Suzanne's words and manner had seemed strange, 
 marked by a sort of affectation unusual in the young 
 girl. It was not the haste with which she had acted 
 the evening before that seemed to him suspicious. 
 Miss Severn was far too clever to take possession in that 
 way of any letter she had desired to conceal. Besides, 
 Michel thought he still saw her beautiful eyes, so pure, 
 so tender. He reached the belief that Susy's only fault 
 was to arrange some childish revenge, and doubtless a 
 portion of this plotted vengeance, perhaps the whole of 
 it, was these questions concerning the hunting lodge of 
 the Stone-Cross, these artless allusions, so plainly in- 
 tended to suggest a meeting. 
 
 A rather sad smile rested on the young man's lips. 
 
 How ingenious she was in causing him pain ! 
 
 The sun was shining brightly upon the crimsoning 
 leaves; heather carpeted the slopes; iris and myosotis 
 had bloomed in the damp ditches. But Nature's last 
 effort to be beautiful did not win a glance from the 
 pedestrian who was slowly going toward Albert Daran's 
 little house. 
 
 Just as he was approaching the goal of his solitary 
 walk, he formed a resolution. Granting one last delay 
 to his cowardice, he vowed to himself that on his return 
 from Paris two or three days later he would have
 
 APRIL'S LADY 
 
 the decisive explanation with Susy already too long 'de- 
 ferred. 
 
 After an hour's chat, Michel left his friend and almost 
 mechanically turned toward the Stone-Cross. On the 
 highway, he met the carriage from Castelflore, return- 
 ing empty, and questioned the coachman. Miss Severn 
 had stopped at the Michauds', and intended to return on 
 foot. 
 
 The more Michel reflected, the more singular Su- 
 zanne's conduct appeared. Then he saw Paul Reault 
 walking thoughtfully along the road. His heart 
 seemed to stop beating and, in less than a second, one of 
 those seconds of mental excitement during which we can 
 re-live years, he recalled Paul's attentions to Suzanne 
 at Cannes, at Rivailler, remembered Miss Severn's long 
 conversations with Jacques's brother, their dances at the 
 Chesnaie ball, the enthusiastic admiration openly ex- 
 pressed by Paul. But, by a miracle of will, he soon re- 
 gained possession of himself and went to meet the young 
 man, who had probably not seen him. 
 
 " It is you," he said, almost smiling ; " I thought you 
 were in Paris." 
 
 Suddenly roused from his brooding, Paul had started. 
 
 " In Paris ? " he replied, " then Miss Severn has not 
 told you? " 
 
 " Miss Severn ? " repeated Michel, while the smile van- 
 ished from his lips. 
 
 Paul was troubled for a moment then, as if making up 
 his mind, slipped his arm through Michel's. 
 
 " Well, my dear fellow, I am going to tell you the 
 whole story myself," he exclaimed with friendly frank-
 
 268 APRIL'S LADY 
 
 ness ; " but listen indulgently for, crazy as I may ap- 
 pear, I am very unhappy." 
 
 They reached the Stone-Cross a little before four 
 o'clock. Without knowing it, Paul had acted like a 
 consummate diplomat. His confidences fell into a heart 
 wide open to receive them. Better, more completely than 
 Miss Severn could have done, he won the cause of his 
 happiness with Tremor. But he was surprised to have 
 to tell this kind confessor everything. Michel explained : 
 
 " Your letter must have come yesterday evening, and 
 Susy and I have not had five minutes to talk together 
 alone." 
 
 Paul was content with this reason ; his mind was else- 
 where. 
 
 " Listen, my lad," said Michel, who treated his friend 
 Jacques's younger brother somewhat as if he were a 
 younger brother of his own ; " I will speak to Reault 
 this very evening, only we must have an understanding. 
 Would you be inclined to make a sacrifice, to work se- 
 riously? Daran was speaking of you to me an hour 
 ago." 
 
 The fact was that Daran, ignorant of the young 
 man's recent errors, had had the same thought as Miss 
 Severn. He knew Paul as a good fellow, intelligent 
 and upright, and he hoped the tempting offer of a secure 
 position at a good salary even though it were in 
 America would decide the new engineer to shake off 
 his inertia and utilise his diploma. Michel had ap- 
 peared less confident when Albert explained the plan. 
 Now he submitted it to this Parisian of a Paul with some 
 ftnxjety, but at the first words the latter's enthusiasm
 
 APRIL'S LADY 269 
 
 equalled Simone's. At the last, he was within an ace of 
 hugging Tremor. 
 
 " Then it would suit you? " 
 
 " Suit me ? Why, America is the land of my dreams ! 
 America and Simone ! My dear fellow, it is enough to 
 kill one with j oy ! You'll see, you'll see, I shall become 
 a second Edison ! Or rather, no, it will be Edison who 
 will be nothing but a second Paul Reault! Jacques 
 himself will sing my praises, and meanwhile he will give 
 me Simone. Oh! my dear Tremor, my preserver, how 
 lucky I was to meet you ! " 
 
 Michel smiled, though not very gaily. 
 
 " Daran is dining with me," he said ; " come too. In 
 the evening, I will go and say a few words to Jacques, 
 leaving Albert and you to talk the matter over." 
 
 With somewhat melancholy kindness, he listened to the 
 future plans Paul improvised, and the grateful praise 
 he bestowed upon his first confidante, Suzanne. 
 
 " She may arrive at the Stone-Cross presently," said 
 Michel, trying to speak in a smiling, natural tone. " I 
 am going to wait here for her." 
 
 Paul smiled. 
 
 " A capital idea ! She will have a pleasant surprise, 
 when she sees to whom I have yielded my place. And 
 you have well deserved this interview. But, you know, 
 when I am engaged I shall adopt the American system." 
 
 Paul went off radiant. Michel watched him with an 
 indulgent look, which quickly saddened. He was vexed 
 with Suzanne for having played this wretched farce, and 
 also for having intended in all probability to go 
 alone to a meeting which Paul should never have allowed
 
 270 APRIL'S LADY 
 
 .her to give him. Then, above all, he could not forgive 
 the young girl the moment of torture when, in spite of 
 himself, he had remembered that she had once said wildly, 
 cruelly : 
 
 " I love another." 
 
 Suzanne had vaguely expected that Michel would join 
 her at the Michauds' and, on leaving their house, she felt 
 somewhat disappointed. 
 
 Was he perhaps following her without letting himself 
 be seen? One could easily hide in the thick woods bor- 
 dering the road, but even if her expected meeting with 
 Paul Reault had not rendered it impossible, she would 
 never have let little Louis Michaud go with her that 
 is, follow Michel's advice. 
 
 It was broad daylight, and the wood presented no for- 
 bidding appearance on this beautiful afternoon in late 
 September. Susy walked on leisurely. 
 
 At last she reached the hunting lodge at the Stone- 
 Cross. But the round hall with its brown walls was de- 
 serted. 
 
 Paul's absence surprised Susy, for it was nearly five 
 o'clock, but she patiently sat down to wait. She felt a 
 little constraint at having to confess that she had not 
 spoken to Michel, but she intended to explain her si- 
 lence by wishing to know Paul's view of America before 
 commencing to discuss the subject either with Michel or 
 Monsieur Daran. 
 
 It was not, however, of Paul and Simone that Miss 
 Severn thought most during this tiresome waiting at 
 the Stone-Cross. The interview at Barbizon was 
 haunting her. Occupied by the remembrance of Faus-
 
 APRIL'S LADY 271 
 
 tine, Michel had not troubled himself about the return 
 of his fiancee, nor her mysterious allusions. 
 
 Still Paul did not arrive. An hour passed. The 
 sun's disc was no longer visible; a pale, quivering rosy 
 light veiled the sky, touching the tops of the trees ; day 
 was closing. Suddenly seized with a sort of fear, Susy 
 left the lodge; she had been foolish to linger so in the 
 midst of the woods. It was imprudent. She hesitated ; 
 then resolutely took a path at her left, which led down 
 a rather steep slope. She knew that it ran diagonally 
 across the wood to the widest road which extended 
 through the forest and fields of Castelflore. 
 
 Involuntarily, Suzanne thought of her first meeting 
 with Michel ; she remembered her fears, then the walk to 
 Precroix in the darkness and silence. 
 
 Since that time, a whole spring, a whole summer, had 
 passed. And now it was Michel's fiancee, the new fian- 
 cee of the inconsolable knight, who was passing along the 
 leafy paths. Yet she was alone. The name written in 
 the chapel had not caused f orgetfulness of the other, the 
 one graven forever upon the tomb and in the heart of 
 the dead warrior. If Michel had experienced any jeal- 
 ousy he had quickly suppressed this impulse of his pride. 
 And Susy felt ashamed of her little stratagem, so sadly 
 futile. 
 
 Yet, at times, she still wondered if Michel had not 
 followed her. The crackling of the dry leaves some- 
 times suggested a footstep. 
 
 By degrees, the impression of a step mysteriously 
 keeping pace with her own, took possession of Miss 
 Severn. The person walking there was Michel ; it could
 
 272 APRIL'S LADY 
 
 be no one but Michel, she repeated to herself; yet to 
 know that he might suddenly emerge from the darkness 
 terrified the young girl. 
 
 And if it were not Michel ? If it were someone 
 else? 
 
 Suzanne's limbs froze ; the blood hummed in her ears ; 
 a wild desire to fly seized her. Then she suddenly per- 
 ceived, a few yards before her, the figure of a man and, 
 almost at the same moment, recognised Michel. 
 
 An intense feeling of relief, joy, delicious security, 
 succeeded her fright so swiftly that her first impulse was 
 to throw herself into his arms; but Michel's attitude 
 by no means encouraged this outburst of feeling, and 
 Miss Severn paused before him, trying to assume a 
 jaunty air, while in her throat and on her lashes were 
 symptoms of a great desire to weep. 
 
 " I am delighted to meet you, Michel ; I did not know 
 it would grow dark so soon " 
 
 A sarcastic smile curled Tremor's lips. 
 
 " Isn't this the way you used to look when you had 
 been reading ' Little Red Riding Hood ' ? " he said pit- 
 ilessly. 
 
 At this sally Suzanne was on the point of bursting 
 into tears, but she restrained herself. 
 
 " You have come from the Michauds' ? " asked Michel. 
 
 " And you ? " she retorted saucily. 
 
 " I have been to see Daran ; I thought I told you so." 
 
 " I thought I told you, too, that I was going to the 
 Michauds'." 
 
 " You stayed there a long time." 
 
 She was silent, wondering whether Michel had followed
 
 APRIL'S LADY 273 
 
 her, or whether he was really coming from Daran's. 
 This latter conjecture prevailed; for his manner was so 
 indifferent and cold, that the fact of his coming would 
 merely have indicated great concern about propriety. 
 
 Michel did not even continue his questioning, but said 
 simply : 
 
 " I suppose you are going back to Castelflore? " 
 
 " Yes, of course." 
 
 They began to walk along the narrow path, close to 
 each other, and yet so far apart. By the uncertain 
 light of the dying day, the trees were assuming their 
 strange nocturnal forms. Seized with the almost morbid 
 fear inspired by darkness in the quiet country, Suzanne 
 passed her hand timidly under her companion's arm. 
 
 " I don't feel quite easy," she said. 
 
 " When one has the terrors of a little girl," replied 
 the young man with more logic than amiability, " it 
 would be infinitely better not to wander alone at all sorts 
 of hours in the woods." 
 
 Michel had followed Suzanne from the moment of her 
 leaving the Michauds', and appeared only at the moment 
 when he perceived that fear was taking possession of 
 her. He cherished the same resentment against his 
 fiancee as when he left Paul, and besides, the clandestine 
 walk he had had, not wishing to lose sight of the young 
 girl nor give her the satisfaction of having gained her 
 object, had put him in a very bad humour. But Susy, 
 chilled by this coldness, felt in no mood for farther con- 
 versation, and for a long time walked on without utter- 
 ing a word. Yet, as the darkness gradually increased, 
 she shivered and forgot her dignity.
 
 274 APRIL'S LADY 
 
 " Michel, what is that moving yonder? If we should 
 have some unpleasant encounter? " 
 
 This time Tremor drew the hand that had sought his 
 protection a little closer and, laughing with less marked 
 irony, asked: 
 
 " With whom? " 
 
 " Why, I don't know some poacher." 
 
 " Really, why not? Then there are brigands in the 
 woods, splendid plumed brigands who drag people into 
 their caves. Have you read * Ali-Baba ' ? " 
 
 " Yes," she replied, trying to smile. 
 
 " You have nothing to fear while you are with me," 
 said the young man almost gently. 
 
 As they reached the highroad, Miss Severn remem- 
 bered that Michel was going away the next morning for 
 two days. If she delayed speaking of Paul and Simone, 
 she would risk having no opportunity to fulfil the mis- 
 sion she had accepted. 
 
 " Michel," she began bravely, " I have something to 
 tell you." Then she related the romance of Paul, spoke 
 of the letter she had received, but neglected to mention 
 the appointment at the Stone-Cross. 
 
 Michel listened with immovable coolness. When 
 Susy reached the plan she had in mind, he told her that 
 Daran had had the same idea. 
 
 " What good fortune ! " cried the young girl with 
 such charming joy that Tremor felt his resentment 
 soften. " Then Michel, you will help these poor lovers, 
 convince Jacques. I assure you that Paul is sincere, 
 and Simone " 
 
 " I will do all that is possible, Suzanne," he answered
 
 APRIL'S LADY 275 
 
 gravely. " I believe with you that Paul is sincere. He 
 has been frivolous, idle, but nevertheless he is a good 
 fellow, very loyal and honest. He is not rich, neither 
 is Simone, but they love each other. There would be 
 great cruelty in separating two people who have the 
 happiness of loving and understanding each other." 
 
 Repressed emotion thrilled in the young man's voice ; 
 Suzanne wondered if he was thinking of Faustine. 
 
 " I did not imagine you were so sentimental," she 
 said. 
 
 " I shall see Jacques this evening," observed Michel, 
 without noticing the remark. 
 
 In the vestibule of Castelflore he stopped. 
 
 " Good-bye." 
 
 Suzanne started. 
 
 " Are not you coming in ? " 
 
 " No ; I have barely time to go back to the tower of 
 Saint-Sylvere. Daran is to dine with me." 
 
 " But you are going away with Robert to-morrow," 
 she objected faintly. 
 
 " That is all arranged. We shall meet at the station 
 at seven o'clock." 
 
 Miss Severn tried to find something to say ; she could 
 not let Michel leave her in this way. 
 
 " You will write to me ? " she asked. " I should like 
 to know the result of your interview with Monsieur 
 Reault." 
 
 " Certainly, I will send you a line before leaving. 
 Good-bye." 
 
 He pressed her hand and made a movement of de- 
 parture.
 
 276 APRIL'S LADY 
 
 " Michel," she murmured, " don't bid me good-bye un- 
 kindly " 
 
 Instinctively she raised her forehead ; her head almost 
 touched his breast. Then he quickly pressed closely to 
 him the trusting head, and bending, kissed her closed 
 lids and left her without a word. 
 
 It was so swift, so abrupt even that, after having felt 
 happy, reassured, intoxicated with hope, Susy asked 
 herself what she was to believe and if the caress had 
 been tender, spontaneous, or merely obliging. She felt 
 ashamed, ashamed of having begged a kiss which he had 
 not intended to give.
 
 the darkness of her closed room Miss Severn was 
 weeping, and her tears were the tacit avowal of a love 
 which she had long denied or combated. Had she been 
 forced to put this secret confession into words, the terms 
 would have been singular enough. " Michel is unkind ; 
 he has no heart ; I don't know a more unbearable disposi- 
 tion ; life with him is growing intolerable, but I love him 
 with all my strength ; I love him absurdly, with the ridic- 
 ulous love of heroines in novels ; in my eyes he is the best, 
 the noblest, the most charming man in the world, and 
 life is no longer possible for me without him." 
 
 It was the complete triumph of the vein of romance 
 bequeathed by her grandmother. The most improbable 
 plans agitated the little American's mind. She resolved 
 by turns, if Michel did not love her, to go back to Phila- 
 delphia and teach French there, or to stay in France and 
 turn nun. Already, in a childish dream, she saw her- 
 self gliding like a shadow along the silent corridors of 
 an old convent, where there would be a great many very 
 fine sculptures, and a large garden full of roses. 
 
 But one hope dispelled the mystic vision. Susy 
 closed her eyes and felt Michel's kiss upon their lids. It 
 had been so gentle, so tender. Then everything 
 changed ; what if Comtesse Wronska was in Paris ? 
 If Michel was going to meet her? Then she obtained 
 relative peace by repeating to herself that if Michel 
 
 loved Comtesse Wronska and knew that she was a 
 
 277
 
 278 APRIL'S LADY 
 
 widow he would certainly not have asked the hand of 
 a young girl to whom nothing bound him. Who 
 knows; perhaps on his return he would be more indul- 
 gent; perhaps happiness was close at hand? 
 
 The next morning, on awaking, she received the letter 
 Michel had promised her. She scarcely dared to open 
 the envelope. What did it contain? How would it be- 
 gin? How would it end? It was the first one Miss 
 Severn had had from Tremor since his return from Nor- 
 way. At last she opened, read it, and with a heavy sigh, 
 returned the little card to the envelope. 
 
 " My Dear Susy : 
 
 " I saw Daran, Paul, and Jacques yesterday. All is 
 going well. The romance of our lovers will end, I hope, 
 like many romances. 
 
 " Hastily yours, 
 
 " MICHEL." 
 
 How short and commonplace it was! Suzanne did 
 not even ask herself if Paul had spoken to Michel of the 
 meeting at the Stone-Cross. She thought only of the 
 vanity of her own dreams. 
 
 " I am glad for those poor children," yet she con- 
 cluded. 
 
 That day Colette, who thought little Zanne looked 
 pale, took her for a drive, but the next afternoon, the 
 children having begged her not to leave them, the young 
 girl seized this pretext for not accompanying her cousin 
 to Chesnaie and Precroix. 
 
 She played a game of croquet with Georges, Nysette,
 
 APRIL'S LADY 279 
 
 and Claude Bethune, then went to sit down on the bank of 
 the river, where the student soon joined her. They be- 
 gan to talk as they used to do at Cannes, and Miss Severn 
 allowed herself to be diverted by her little friend's chat- 
 ter: 
 
 From time to time a burst of laughter echoed under 
 the sycamores and Claude thought he had again found 
 the chum Susy whose frank manners had charmed him. 
 
 " If you knew, Susy," he cried, " how extraordinary 
 it seems to think that in a few weeks you will be Ma- 
 dame Tremor ! " 
 
 Miss Severn started, recalled to reality, not this inter- 
 mediate reality, filled with sorrowful forebodings and 
 gloomy ideas, but a more merciful one. Claude told the 
 truth : in a few weeks she would be Michel's wife. Noth- 
 ing was destroyed. In a few weeks, she would be called 
 Madame Tremor, Madame Michel Tremor, Suzanne Tre- 
 mor. The words sounded sweet. 
 
 " Why does that appear extraordinary to you, 
 Claude? " she asked, smiling. 
 
 " Well, in the first place, because I did not suppose 
 Michel would marry at all and then because I had 
 still less idea of his marrying you." 
 
 "But why?" 
 
 " I don't know. Because he did not trouble himself 
 at all about young girls; because he led a Wandering 
 Jew life; because he is horribly serious and even a little 
 tiresome " 
 
 "Uncivil!" 
 
 "Uncivil, how?" 
 
 " Uncivil to me because you do not consider me worthy
 
 280 APRIL'S LADY 
 
 to marry a serious man, in the first place ; and secondly, 
 uncivil to Michel." 
 
 " Has he never bored you ? " questioned Claude, with 
 interest. 
 
 " Why, no." 
 
 " Never, never? " 
 
 " Never." 
 
 " That is astonishing. But at least do not think I 
 don't like him," the youth went on eagerly ; " on the 
 contrary, I adore him, you know. Only it seemed as if, 
 for you and me " 
 
 " Don't put me in the same budget with yourself, if 
 you please." 
 
 " As if, for you and me, he was not sufficiently 
 foolish." 
 
 " Better and better," retorted Suzanne, laughing 
 heartily. " Well, then, my dear friend, neither a dandy 
 like Raymond Desplans, nor a giddy fellow like Paul 
 Reault could have pleased me. I am a goose, possibly, 
 but for that very reason I must have a philosopher to 
 charm me; an ignoramus, and so I wanted a scholarly 
 husband; a stupid little person who is capable of talk- 
 ing nonsense with a big booby like you, so I needed a 
 husband who would scold me well, and be my master." 
 
 " Ah ! you had a good scent," Claude answered. " He 
 is a scholar. And he will be master; have no fear of 
 that." 
 
 He looked at the young girl again, then shouting with 
 laughter : 
 
 " What you love in him is amazing." 
 
 Suzanne turned as red as a poppy, and gave Claude's
 
 APRIL'S LADY 281 
 
 hand a good hard slap, but this rebuke did not disturb 
 the future graduate. 
 
 " And he, why he should adore you ! But to be sure, 
 that isn't astonishing, on the contrary." 
 
 " Master Claude," said Suzanne, laughing in spite of 
 herself, " you are horribly indiscreet, do me the favor 
 to keep silent." 
 
 " I hope," Claude went on, " that he will sacrifice his 
 old papers to you, that he will say tender nothings to 
 you, that he will look at you all the time and that he 
 will administer jealous scenes to you in big doses, which 
 
 oh ! dear, how I would like to see you together ! " 
 
 " Claude ! " cried the young girl, " if you keep on 
 being so curious, I am going away." 
 
 " To take my paternal solicitude for curiosity," cried 
 Claude, raising his arms to heaven with so comical a 
 grimace that Susy laughed again. 
 
 " Then it has been a thunderbolt? " 
 
 " You are wearying me." 
 
 " In the first place, you know, I thought it was a pru- 
 dential marriage, at least on your side, but just now 
 
 Ah! I did not even need to hear you speak of 
 Michel; I only had to utter his name and you turned 
 perfectly red. Then! " 
 
 " That is false ; I did not turn red at hearing his 
 name ; you may suppose that I hear it often enough for 
 it not to surprise me admitting that the name should 
 make me blush, if it did surprise me." 
 
 " Pooh ! pooh ! pooh ! you were red to the roots of 
 your hair, even your ears were red." 
 
 " Claude, let me alone."
 
 282 APRIL'S LADY 
 
 But the love of teasing fairly intoxicated Claude. 
 
 " You are an ungrateful creature," he declared ; " you 
 don't know what you owe me." 
 
 "You?" 
 
 " Yes, me." 
 
 It is certain that Susy little suspected the problem 
 that had more than once beset Claude in the course of 
 his vacation and, since his arrival at Precroix had lit- 
 erally haunted his giddy brain. Had Miss Severn really 
 received that First of April letter? Had it really been 
 taken seriously, or by some strange chance, had it come 
 with another letter from Michel? In a word, was it 
 really Claude who had made the marriage of his friend 
 Susy with the lord of Saint-Sylvere? The story seemed 
 to him at once so charming and so ridiculous, that he 
 would have sacrificed any pleasure to know that, while 
 appearing so improbable, the amazing affair was 
 true But, if it were true, could Susy be ignorant of 
 it? 
 
 Claude had racked his brains, and often a question had 
 risen to his lips which he had not dared to ask. Now, 
 in the heat of the skirmish, he no longer reasoned. 
 
 He gravely drew from his pocket a paper and, pre- 
 tending to read, began to recite the commencement of the 
 letter he had written to Suzanne ; a commencement which 
 had cost him more labour than many Greek and Latin 
 texts and was engraved upon his memory. Susy in- 
 stantly listened. 
 
 " Where did you find that ? " she cried, snatching the 
 paper from Claude's hands.
 
 APRIL'S LADY 283 
 
 Then she looked at it and saw only a circular for pho- 
 tographic supplies. 
 
 " What does this mean, Claude? " she questioned. 
 
 Claude had started it would have needed a very 
 clever person to stop him. 
 
 " It means, Mademoiselle Susy, that it was not Michel 
 who asked your hand in marriage ; it was I." 
 
 She was enquiring with her eyes, no longer able to 
 find words, trying to laugh. 
 
 " Madame Fauvel wanted her brother to marry you, 
 and I knew it, and I also knew, having heard it a hun- 
 dred times, that Michel did not want to marry. 
 The 30th of March, papa and I the others were at 
 Precroix as we were leaving the Comedie Fra^aise, 
 met Michel. I told him I was making an April Fool for 
 the tutor, and suddenly the thought popped into my 
 head, * Come, he would be a good one to do ! ' I had 
 just received your letter, the one in which you told me 
 about the adventure in the Green Sepulchre. So the 
 next morning I wrote one in the Saint-Sylvere style 
 taking good care to put inside the envelope in big letters : 
 6 April Fool ! ' Yet all the same, after it was mailed, I 
 was seized with remorse and fear. What if Susy should 
 not see the words written in the envelope and and 
 what if I had made a big blunder! You can imagine 
 what a dressing I should have had from papa ! For three 
 nights I never slept a wink. Then one fine day I heard 
 that Miss Severn and Monsieur Tremor were engaged 
 and everybody was pleased, etc., etc. I wondered if my 
 letter had come at the same time as another, a real offer.
 
 284 APRIL'S LADY 
 
 Only I did not want to speak of the matter to anybody, 
 not even Michel. But, come now, since it was really my 
 letter that caused your engagement, did not Michel tell 
 you so ? " 
 
 The human will, above all, the feminine will, is very 
 strong in certain decisive hours ; yet perhaps Susy's ex- 
 aggerated calmness might not have deceived a keener 
 observer than Claude. 
 
 " I knew the story of that letter, Claude," she replied, 
 in a tone that was almost imperceptibly altered ; " but I 
 did not know that you were the author of this amiable 
 jest. Allow me to compliment you; it was in most ex- 
 quisite taste." 
 
 At that moment Claude thought he might have com- 
 mitted a second blunder, but it was scarcely more than 
 a flash of common sense. 
 
 " Come, Susy," he said, " you are not vexed. Do 
 you know what I have said to myself more than once? 
 With his disposition, Michel would have worshipped 
 Miss Severn for months, and even years, without daring 
 to confess it, while, thanks to my letter. Ah ! my letter 
 didn't take long to decide him." 
 
 Susy remained silent. Claude began to have fears. 
 
 " You won't tell anybody about it, will you? " he 
 entreated. " If my parents knew even now " 
 
 " I will not mention it, Claude," said Suzanne, again 
 recovering her speech ; " but have you considered it 
 is a sort of forgery that you committed and you see 
 how how serious all this might have been." 
 
 She was now speaking with visible effort. Claude 
 seized her hands.
 
 APRIL'S LADY 285 
 
 " Suzanne, I have hurt you," he said with sincere 
 sorrow. " I was an idiot to tell you this." 
 
 She shook her head. 
 
 " No, no ; it is much better." Then recovering her- 
 self, she added: 
 
 " Since I knew it, since I was ignorant only of the 
 name of the bad joker," she continued, succeeding in 
 summoning a smile. 
 
 " Then you are not angry with me? " 
 
 " Why, no, not at all only I had to scold you, that 
 you might not do such a thing again." 
 
 " But why, if Michel knew " 
 
 Suzanne shook her finger at him in friendly menace. 
 
 " Ah ! Master Claude," she said, " here are whys 
 enough. Don't exaggerate your paternal rights. 
 You did not make my engagement ; you only hastened it 
 a few days." 
 
 Miss Severn had risen and was going back to the 
 chateau. Oh! that horrible little Claude! The un- 
 conscious monster! 
 
 An automatic mowing machine on the lawn changed 
 the course of the youth's ideas ; he talked of other things 
 and stopped at the entrance. 
 
 " I must go back to Precroix," he said ; " Emile and 
 Rene Pontmaury are coming with two other fellows. 
 Would you go with me ? " 
 
 " No, thank you ; I am tired." 
 
 " You forgive me? " 
 
 Suzanne shrugged her shoulders with a little laugh. 
 
 " What a simpleton you are ! I was not thinking of 
 it."
 
 286 APRIL'S LADY 
 
 But when she was alone in her own room, she sank 
 on the sofa, burying her head in the cushions, utterly 
 crushed. 
 
 She could not succeed in reaching any clear idea of 
 what had happened six months before, but what did 
 become plain was that Michel's choice had not been 
 free ; that she, she oh ! what shame had accepted a 
 man who had not thought of offering himself to her, 
 that she had written first to this man, had imposed herself 
 upon him. Now she could explain Michel's delays, his 
 strange, hesitating manner during their conversation 
 at Precroix. But then Comtesse Wronska? 
 
 The collapse was complete. All the good reasons 
 Suzanne had given herself to prove that she was really 
 the chosen bride, ceased to be valid. No doubt the little 
 cousin had unconsciously prevented the reconciliation 
 desired by Faustine and also by Michel; no doubt, at 
 certain times, especially since he had again seen the 
 beautiful comtesse, Michel detested the fiancee whom he 
 had not chosen, execrated Claude, and desired a breach. 
 
 At this thought, Suzanne for a moment was actually 
 crazed. She would fly ; she would not have Colette find 
 her that evening or Michel the next day still at 
 Castelflore. 
 
 Hastily throwing a quantity of all sorts of articles 
 into a bag which closed as if by miracle, she rang for 
 Colette's maid, and using for a pretext a letter she had 
 found in her room when she went to it, she said that she 
 was summoned immediately to Paris, and would take the 
 next train without waiting for Madame FauvePs re- 
 turn.
 
 APRIL'S LADY 287 
 
 " Tell Madame," she added, " that I beg her to ex- 
 cuse me, and that I will write. I am taking only what is 
 absolutely necessary." 
 
 " Has Mademoiselle received bad news ? " asked the 
 maid. 
 
 " Not exactly, but the person who wants me is a very 
 old friend, and I cannot defer my departure." 
 
 As a carriage went every day to the station at five 
 o'clock for the provisions that came from Paris, Suzanne 
 availed herself of it. 
 
 A feverish energy supported her. Now with a long- 
 ing for hope, she told herself that perhaps all was not 
 lost. No; she did not believe that Michel had ever de- 
 tested or cursed her. Sometimes she had imagined her- 
 self beloved, and the facts remained the same. Yet how 
 stern, cruel, above all, indifferent he had been, since the 
 day the letter from Barbizon had come, since he had 
 again seen Comtesse Wronska! 
 
 Suzanne did not weep; her eyes were dry and burn- 
 ing; the sobs stopped in her throat and stifled her. 
 Her head ached violently. 
 
 An accident might have caused Michel to arrive at 
 five o'clock; then poor little Zanne would have flung 
 herself into his arms, saying wildly : 
 
 " Comfort me ; take me away ; tell me that nothing is 
 true, that I have been dreaming, that you do love me, 
 that I have nothing to fear near you that we will 
 never part again ! " 
 
 But Michel had not taken the train, and Suzanne, 
 obeying her first impulse, went to seek the hospitality 
 of Mademoiselle Gemier, who was keeping a modest
 
 288 APRIL'S LADY 
 
 boarding- school for young girls in the Rue-Saints- 
 Peres. 
 
 Before going to Madame Bethune's, Suzanne had 
 spent several days with her former governess; she had 
 been there when she went alone to Paris; there were a 
 hundred reasons why they would think of seeking her 
 there and, besides, had she not told the maid that she 
 was answering the summons of an old friend? They 
 would understand. 
 
 Meanwhile she had decided not to write ; Michel would 
 return to Rivailler the next morning ; if, uneasy at this 
 sudden departure, he should go to Mademoiselle 
 Gemier's, Suzanne might believe herself beloved and 
 would tell him all ; if, on the contrary, he quietly waited 
 for the letter to Colette Oh ! then all would be ended ! 
 And Suzanne would write. What? She did not yet 
 know. She only knew that the letter would be the final 
 breach more or less desired by Michel. The idea of 
 being wedded through duty or compulsion terrified Aunt 
 Regine's granddaughter ; now that she loved, she wished 
 to be loved. 
 
 Oh! if Michel would only come; if, as before, he 
 scolded little Zanne; if he made her weep as he did the 
 morning after the ball at Chesnaie, and then after be- 
 ing very unkind, very angry, very jealous he should 
 kneel again, as he had done that day. What joy, Oh! 
 what joy that would be! 
 
 Suzanne was very pale, her head ached. 
 
 After dinner, pleading great fatigue to escape the 
 questions and caresses of Mademoiselle Gemier, she re- 
 tired early. When she had mechanically undressed and
 
 APRIL'S LADY 289 
 
 gone to bed in the little room, so dreary in spite of its 
 flowered curtains, she could at last weep and reason. 
 At this hour she was beginning dimly to comprehend 
 that her departure had been a foolish act. But the 
 evil was done, and Suzanne resolved to go to the end 
 of the path she had entered, however imprudently. 
 
 So she buried her head in the pillows, trembling lest, 
 in the next room, her sobs might be heard. 
 
 " Oh, Michel," she faltered, very softly, longing to 
 speak, to tell her distress to him who, perhaps even in 
 thought, was so far away from her " my Michel, my 
 fiance, my husband ; I am in such grief."
 
 VI 
 
 COLETTE had the maid repeat twice Suzanne's 
 brief explanations. 
 
 " Miss Severn will write when she arrives ? " 
 
 " Yes, Madame." 
 
 " You are sure that she did not tell you why she was 
 called to Paris, or at least give the name of the person 
 who called her? " 
 
 " Miss Severn only said : a very old friend." 
 
 "It is Mademoiselle Gemier. That's just like Su- 
 zanne," Colette concluded. 
 
 Then, left alone with Nysette, she sat down in a 
 corner of the little drawing-room and sighed heavily. 
 
 Long ago, more quickly than Michel, she had ac- 
 cepted Suzanne's eccentricities. Even at this moment, 
 she was not uneasy, but she confessed that she was vexed, 
 irritated by this new freak of her cousin. Castelflore 
 with neither Robert, Michel, or Suzanne would lose its 
 charm. Colette was angry with Mademoiselle Gemier 
 for having taken away her little Zanne and for what 
 whim, Heaven only knew. She was vexed with Suzanne 
 for having gone without any one's advice. She was 
 vexed with herself for feeling so weary, so unoccupied, 
 so dull in her solitude. 
 
 Again Madame F'auvel sighed and this time the sigh 
 resembled a yawn. Nysette wanted some " grown 
 person " to play with her. The " grown person " 
 
 present answered rather sharply, which seemed so sur- 
 
 290
 
 291 
 
 prising from those ever-smiling lips that the little girl 
 did not persist, but with an air of offended dignity, 
 went to look out of the window. 
 
 Impetuously clapping her hands, she turned to her 
 mother : 
 
 " Here's Tonti ! Here's Tonti ! " 
 
 Madame Fauvel shrugged her shoulders. 
 
 " Why no, simpleton, that isn't Tonti. Tonti is in 
 Paris." 
 
 " It is Tonti ! " Nysette insisted ; " he is coming up 
 the avenue with a gentleman I know." 
 
 This time Colette rose. It was really Michel. A 
 few minutes later he entered the little drawing-room, 
 followed by Albert Daran. 
 
 "Did not Robert come back with you?" asked 
 Madame Fauvel with a slight tinge of anxiety, as she 
 went to meet her brother. 
 
 " Robert will not return for two or three days ; he has 
 found more business than he expected," replied Tremor. 
 
 Reassured, and already delighted by this diversion 
 which had come in the midst of an attack of boredom, 
 she held out her hand to Daran, made him sit down, 
 and instantly asked a multitude of questions, hardly 
 waiting for the answers. Michel had also taken a seat, 
 but remained silent. The maid had carried off Nysette, 
 not without tears and resistance, but contrary to his 
 custom, the young man had paid no attention to the 
 noisy disappointment of his little niece. He let his 
 sister talk with Daran a moment, then very quickly, 
 with an emotion that betrayed itself slightly by a little 
 contraction of the lips, he asked :
 
 292 APRIL'S LADY 
 
 " Does Suzanne know that I am here ? " 
 
 '" Suzanne ? " said Colette, recalled to her anger ; 
 " oh, don't let us talk of Suzanne. She is in Paris, my 
 dear brother." 
 
 " What, in Paris ? " repeated Michel almost sternly. 
 
 " Yes, in Paris. She is simply crazy," replied Colette. 
 
 And, half laughing, she explained, commenting 
 copiously as she spoke. Michel listened, frowning. 
 
 " She went while you were at Precroix, without wait- 
 ing for you, without leaving a message? " 
 
 " She did not have time to leave a message. But, 
 really, it seems to me that Mademoiselle Gemier might 
 have waited until to-morrow." 
 
 At first Michel did not answer, then suddenly seizing 
 his sister's wrist, he said in a changed voice: 
 
 " Colette, you knew nothing, neither she, nor you, 
 did you? She, especially, she did not know? " 
 
 Actual bewilderment stiffened Madame Fauvel's 
 features. 
 
 " What is it? " she asked in a stifled tone. 
 
 Michel was breathing with difficulty, his hand pressed 
 upon his aching forehead. 
 
 " My poor little sister," he said, " misfortunes often 
 come very quickly. The Metropolitan Bank has failed, 
 and as all or nearly all my fortune " 
 
 With a cry, Colette had thrown herself into the young 
 man's arms. 
 
 " Oh ! my poor darling brother ! " 
 
 Michel silently clasped her, happy to find her, at 
 least, faithful, loving, and so agitated, so distressed
 
 APRIL'S LADY 293 
 
 by his trouble. He kissed her several times with great 
 tenderness, then with his cheek pressed against Colette's 
 brow, he murmured: 
 
 "You don't think she knew it, tell me? No one 
 could have told her. That is not the reason she has 
 gone? " 
 
 Colette started. 
 
 " Suzanne? Why, my poor Michel, you are dream- 
 ing. How could she have learned what I did not know 
 myself? " 
 
 "TheBethunes?" 
 
 " The Bethunes, certainly not. Bethune is away and 
 May never keeps up with the news. Besides, Susy has 
 seen no one either to-day or yesterday." 
 
 " And the papers ? Remember that this is a catastro- 
 phe to others as well as to me. Last evening's papers 
 were full of it." 
 
 " Nonsense ! Suzanne hardly knew that your money 
 was in the Metropolitan Bank and as for the papers, 
 we have not read them. I am sure of it. I have not 
 left her to-day, except to go to Precroix and 
 there," said Colette, whose eyes had chanced to fall upon 
 the little table where lay a pile of newspapers still in 
 their wrappers, " look at the papers ! " 
 
 " And then," Michel went on, " even if she had 
 learned anything, she would not have gone away 
 she would have waited for me ; you think so, too, don't 
 you? " 
 
 " Certainly, she would have waited for you 
 unless she had started to join you."
 
 294 APRIL'S LADY 
 
 Tremor shook his head; not the faintest glimmer of 
 hope brightened his eyes. 
 
 " Oh ! no ! " he said. 
 
 Colette reflected. 
 
 " You are right ; if she had had the least suspicion 
 of the truth, she would have waited to see me, to talk 
 with me; no, she knew nothing." 
 
 Tremor hid his face in his sister's hair. 
 
 " Oh ! my darling, my darling," he said, " encourage 
 me tell me again that you believe she would have 
 waited for me, that you are sure of it." 
 
 " Why, yes, my poor dear Michel ; yes, I am sure of 
 it ; Suzanne would have stayed. In the fear of missing 
 you, she would have waited for you, and she would have 
 told me all. She loves you, I know, and . -" 
 
 " Has she told you so ? " 
 
 Colette seemed bewildered. 
 
 " No, but I have seen it plainly." 
 
 Michel laughed sorrowfully. 
 
 " Ah ! You have seen it ; you are very fortunate." 
 
 He released himself from Madame Fauvel's embrace, 
 and went back to the seat he had occupied the instant 
 before. 
 
 Colette seemed discouraged. 
 
 " Did no one suspect anything? " she asked. 
 
 " No one," replied Tremor ; " you remember the other 
 evening your husband was talking with me about the 
 Metropolitan Bank, he had learned that there were un- 
 pleasant rumours in circulation. But it was all so 
 vague and improbable that I attached no great im- 
 portance to it. Besides, Maitre Allinges, whom I saw
 
 APRIL'S LADY 295 
 
 on arriving in Paris, thought it a press sensation. 
 Then, the evening of day before yesterday, the news was 
 suddenly spread of the suicide of Moreau-Fromont, the 
 manager of the Metropolitan Bank. And the next day, 
 the disaster was known. Poor devils who thought they 
 had invested their fortune wisely, like myself, found 
 themselves ruined in a single day." 
 
 " But what has happened? " 
 
 Michel seemed tired out ; Daran answered for him. 
 
 " Moreau-Fromont, with two of the directors, dis- 
 regarding the by-laws, had involved the bank in a 
 colossal buying up of something to create a monopoly. 
 No one suspected it. But proceedings had been com- 
 menced against the syndicate which was at the head of 
 the affair. Then Moreau-Fromont saw that all was 
 lost, and shot himself, the wretch which does not 
 make up for what has happened, alas ! " 
 
 Colette, bewildered by these explanations, which she 
 only half understood, asked: 
 
 " Is the disaster complete ; is all Michel's money swal- 
 lowed up in it? " 
 
 " We must wait for the settlement, Madame," replied 
 Daran ; " but I do not believe that it could give very 
 satisfying results." 
 
 Tremor shrugged his shoulders. 
 
 " I am among the fortunate ones," he said, " since, 
 thanks to my house in the Rue des Belles-Feuilles, I have 
 enough to ensure me a living and can enter some busi- 
 ness. Ah ! Heaven, if it were only myself ! " 
 
 He interrupted himself, returning to the same tortur- 
 ing idea.
 
 296 APRIL'S LADY 
 
 " I wanted to tell her what has happened, to reassure 
 her concerning 1 the future, to say that I would work, that 
 
 and she must leave in this way ! " 
 He spoke with ill-repressed anger. 
 
 " Come, brother dear," replied Colette, with a little 
 reproach in her affectionate voice, " you must be fair. 
 Suzanne could not divine that you would come and why. 
 Do you believe that " 
 
 " I don't know, I don't know," he interrupted, as if 
 dreading what Colette might say. " The fact of not 
 finding her here, when I am sad, unfortunate, has de- 
 pressed me. Oh! I would give ten, twenty years of my 
 life to be sure that she knew nothing." 
 
 " But, my child," said Colette, with a maternal air, 
 " you can easily discover. Mademoiselle Gemier lives 
 at 35 Rue des Saints-Peres. Go and see Suzanne to- 
 morrow." 
 
 " Oh ; no," replied Michel harshly ; " not on any ac- 
 count. She said that she would write to you when she 
 arrived, didn't she? We will see if she does. I wish 
 her to feel free, absolutely free, and admitting that 
 she finds herself confronted with a decision to be made 
 
 under no outside influence, not even that of my af- 
 fection and my grief. If she does not write, well 
 then I will consider." 
 
 " But," suggested Madame Fauvel, " if I should write 
 to her, just a line, a little commonplace note " 
 
 With a nervous, abrupt movement, he seized his 
 sister's hands. 
 
 " Listen, Colette," in the broken voice he had used at
 
 297 
 
 times since he came into the little room, " you must 
 promise that you will not try to seek Suzanne, that you 
 will not write to her, that you will not tell Robert to 
 go to her, that you will do nothing, nothing, until she 
 has given some sign of life, she I depend upon it, 
 you see, I insist upon it. If you disobey me, I I 
 should never forgive you. I have serious reasons for 
 speaking in this way." 
 
 " I promise, my dear brother," answered Madame 
 Fauvel sadly, " you know better than I, and yet " 
 
 He looked at her intently. 
 
 " It is a promise." 
 
 "Besides, perhaps she will write," Tremor went on. 
 " As soon as you receive her letter, you will wire me, 
 won't you? For then, you understand, I shall go to 
 see her." 
 
 He interrupted himself, and added gently : 
 
 " But, my poor little Colette, I am thinking only of 
 myself. You had something in the Metropolitan Bank, 
 too, about twenty thousand francs." 
 
 Colette made a little gesture of indifference. She 
 had never estimated the cost of the luxury which was as 
 necessary to her as the air she breathed, and with which 
 her uncle and her husband had surrounded her. Yet 
 she said: 
 
 " Is Robert much troubled? " 
 
 " He is troubled, certainly ; it is always very annoy- 
 ing to lose a considerable sum, but he thought only of 
 me. He has been the best, the most affectionate of 
 brothers to me, Colette. I shall never forget it. He
 
 298 APRIL'S LADY 
 
 and Daran have been a genuine support. And I greatly 
 needed them; at the first moment, these blows are some- 
 what hard to bear." 
 
 He had risen, instantly followed by Albert. 
 
 " Are you going," cried Colette quickly. 
 
 He made a gesture of assent. 
 
 "To Paris?" 
 
 " To-morrow morning, yes, but I wanted to see you, 
 Suzanne and you. Now I will go back to Saint-Sylvere, 
 where I have some papers to look up." 
 
 " Are you going to dine alone ? " she persisted. 
 
 " Daran will dine and go back with me to-morrow." 
 
 " And Robert will not return for three days? " 
 
 " In three days, probably yes good-bye for the 
 present, my darling sister." 
 
 He took her in his arms and kissed her, saying: 
 
 " Think of your poor brother," then clasping her 
 closer, he added: 
 
 " You will telegraph me at once, Rue Beau j on, won't 
 you? At once? " 
 
 Colette began to weep. 
 
 " Oh ! I beseech you, Michel," she entreated, " stay 
 and dine at Castelflore, Monsieur Daran, and you. I 
 feel so sad, so lonely. You can go directly after, if 
 you wish." 
 
 Michel yielded and Madame Fauvel certainly could 
 not imagine the extent of the sacrifice he was making 
 in remaining longer at Castelflore where everything 
 rendered, if possible, more tangible, Suzanne's absence, 
 and his own disappointment and fears. 
 
 When he learned the financial disaster in which the
 
 APRIL'S LADY 299 
 
 greater portion of his fortune was sunk, his first thought 
 had been of Miss Severn, and he had left Paris almost 
 immediately. A terrible anguish was gnawing his 
 heart. It would have been so comforting, so sweet to 
 find her there, to hear a cheering tender word in her voice, 
 one of those words which women invent for those who 
 suffer, when they love them; to have on his brow a 
 caress from her lips or her hand; to feel her his own, 
 to intoxicate himself a moment with the assurance that 
 he would be strong to struggle, because he would not be 
 alone. ? 
 
 It was much to expect, much to ask too much 
 perhaps Michel knew it. While the train was roll- 
 ing toward Rivailler, his poor brain had wearied itself 
 in going over the selfsame facts and conjectures which 
 had haunted it for two days. 
 
 Suzanne was young; she loved luxury, the ample, 
 easy existence which fortune bestows. It would be 
 necessary first to reassure her. Tremor had promised 
 himself to be tender, to let his heart speak for the first 
 time. He was intoxicated with the hope that he might 
 induce the young girl to face the prospect of a more 
 quiet life. He had remembered the brow, the eyes so 
 artlessly lifted to his lips in the hour of parting; he 
 fancied he again heard the timid voice which had 
 stammered : 
 
 " Don't bid me good-bye unkindly." 
 
 The next instant he had roused himself from this 
 reverie. He had thought that his arguments would 
 doubtless remain vain, and his tenderness powerless, in 
 the presence of Suzanne's regrets, and then he would
 
 300 APRIL'S LADY 
 
 be compelled to say : " I am no longer the rich man to 
 whom you were engaged. Since you do not love me, 
 you are free." 
 
 She had gone, voluntarily, mysteriously ; she had gone 
 without saying anything. There were instants when 
 Michel fancied he was in some fevered dream. Then 
 he was obliged to repeat to himself: 
 
 " It is you, you who are suffering. Weep, cry out ; 
 it is you who are unhappy. Yesterday you were reck- 
 oned among the privileged persons in the world. The 
 woman you love was your fiancee; you could offer her 
 the luxurious life that suits you both; you dreamed of 
 being loved as much as you yourself love. And to-day, 
 everything is crumbling around you. This fiancee, the 
 exquisite child you worship, has gone ; she deserts you." 
 
 Then he reproached himself for his doubts. Su- 
 zanne was ignorant of everything. She had gone be- 
 cause because He did not know, ideas mingled, 
 whirled through his brain. 
 
 When, with his friend, he reached the gate of the 
 little park, nine o'clock had just struck from the church 
 of Rivailler. Daran, reading an entreaty in Michel's 
 eyes, once more crossed the threshold of the tower of 
 Saint-Sylvere and both went to the study, where the 
 White Lady smiled amid the verdure of the tapestry, 
 where the spinning-wheel awaited a woman's hand to 
 make it hum while the worms were gnawing their dark 
 pathway through the ancient furniture. 
 
 From Castelflore to the tower of Saint-Sylvere 
 Michel had scarcely uttered a dozen words; now he sat 
 down, exhausted, very pale, and still silent. At first
 
 APRIL'S LADY 301 
 
 Albert had avoided disturbing the thoughts behind the 
 brow whose lines of grief he divined in the dusk, but 
 this persistent dumbness began to alarm him." 
 
 " My poor dear fellow," he said suddenly, " you are 
 inventing more troubles than you have; you are tortur- 
 ing yourself before you even know anything positively." 
 
 And as Michel did not seem to have heard him, he 
 suddenly clasped both his hands with affectionate 
 abruptness, adding: 
 
 " Come, be frank with me ; what is it you believe ; 
 what is it that you actually fear? Tell me all." 
 
 " I believe that " 
 
 Tremor stopped then, in a low tone : 
 
 " I am a wretch, I am enraged with myself for it, 
 but I cannot drive from my mind this abominable thing : 
 it is that Suzanne has heard of my ruin, that she did 
 not feel courage to share with me a hard, or ordinary 
 life, and fearing my grief and Colette's reproaches 
 when she confessed all, she has gone away, with the in- 
 tention of avoiding a painful explanation by writing. 
 My poor little Suzanne ! You see that I am unworthy 
 of her, since I can think that, and believe it to the degree 
 of being as miserable as I am." 
 
 " I really do not understand by what right you con- 
 jure up such suppositions," said Daran. " Miss Severn, 
 you admit, could only be very imperfectly informed 
 concerning the disposal of your fortune; that is the 
 first point. Here is the second: from what Madame 
 Fauvel has told us, there are excellent reasons why this 
 poor child should have been ignorant, like your sister, 
 of the crash of the Metropolitan Bank, and finally "
 
 302 APRIL'S LADY 
 
 " But do you think that story of Mademoiselle 
 Gemier plausible; come, do you think it natural that 
 Suzanne should run off in an hour, without waiting for 
 Colette, without writing a word? " 
 
 " I don't think it is natural, but that is no reason 
 that it may not be true and easy to explain. Then, 
 admitting that Miss Severn did not go in reply to a 
 letter from Mademoiselle Gemier, nothing proves that 
 she went to avoid seeing you." 
 
 "Why did she go, then, why? What do you sup- 
 pose? Speak " 
 
 " I don't suppose I confess that I don't know any 
 more than you do why she thought fit to absent her- 
 self. Only I have often noticed that things we con- 
 sider incomprehensible almost always end by explain- 
 ing themselves. I have also noticed that there are many 
 strange misunderstandings especially between people 
 who love each other." 
 
 " Suzanne does not love me." 
 
 "How do you know? Have you ever asked her?'* 
 
 " I know that she does not love me." 
 
 " And she, does she know that you love her? " 
 
 Michel shook his head, smiling sadly: 
 
 " I have never told her so ; just think of it." 
 
 " That is no reason." 
 
 " Ah ! you don't know me," cried the young man 
 bitterly. " What have I done to be loved by her? I 
 have been sullen, unkind, cruel; I have disturbed, poi- 
 soned all her pleasures ; I have been cold, stern " 
 
 " Yes, all this does not prove much," replied Albert 
 philosophically. " But, however that may be, believe
 
 APRIL'S LADY 303 
 
 me, it is wrong to be in such haste to accuse a young 
 girl who is your fiancee, to judge her disloyal " 
 
 " I do not think her disloyal," Michel corrected, very 
 gloomily ; " no, I do not feel that I have any right to 
 reproach her for her desertion. When we were engaged, 
 she was extraordinarily frank. She was not a woman 
 to marry the first person who was introduced to her, 
 but she had a horror of poverty; she intended to wed 
 only a man who was relatively rich and she told me 
 without periphrases. I am no longer rich." 
 
 " You are not poor. You have your house in the 
 Rue des Belles-Feuilles, about thirty thousand francs 
 in stocks of the Colonizer, the tower of Saint- 
 Sylvere, and a tolerably large property in pictures and 
 works of art. It will be strange if, even without reck- 
 oning what the liquidation of the Parisian bank will 
 produce, all this will not give you at least twelve or 
 fifteen thousand francs income. You will make on an 
 average half as much again by your work yes, yes. 
 And if, between now and then, you need a sum, even a 
 large sum, you know very well that " 
 
 The worthy Daran stopped, too much agitated to 
 continue ; then he held out his hand to Michel, saying in 
 a lower tone : 
 
 " You knew very well that you would find it, eh? " 
 
 Michel pressed the faithful hand. 
 
 " Yes, my friend," he said ; " I do know ; I have never 
 doubted it." 
 
 He was silent, then went on more calmly : 
 
 " When first hearing of the crash of the Metropolitan 
 Bank, I was overwhelmed, but now ah ! I assure you
 
 304 APRIL'S LADY 
 
 that I would feel capable of regaining courage, even of 
 being happy, if if she loved me." 
 
 " Do you remember," replied Daran, " that one day 
 I laughingly told you the happiness I wished you : fifty 
 thousand pounds less income, and the love of a woman 
 who was worthy of you into the bargain. I did 
 not suppose, alas! that I was speaking as a prophet, 
 but why should I not have been one halfway? After- 
 ward we talked for a very long time about Miss Severn." 
 
 " Oh ! I remember. The fiancee whom a combina- 
 tion of events imposed upon me was indifferent to me. 
 I don't know how, but everything has changed. I 
 believe that at first I loved her because she is kind 
 so delicately, so humanely kind that I was ashamed of 
 my dull selfishness to so much suffering ; then I loved her 
 because her fresh beauty, her young, artless grace, have 
 conquered, charmed me. I loved her because I do not 
 know. I loved her so much that I loved even her coquet- 
 tish airs and the childishness that irritated me, her ab- 
 surd little accent which nothing will correct, her pro- 
 nunciation of certain words which she persists in, as if 
 doing it on purpose " 
 
 In the suffering of this hour, Michel let his secret 
 escape. Before Daran could answer, he continued: 
 
 " I ought to have told her that I loved her I have 
 not done so. In the first place, I scarcely admitted it 
 to myself; it was only when I believed I was losing her, 
 that I really understood then you know, I am dif- 
 fident, and it seemed as if I was so far from being a man 
 to please her. I was afraid. So long as I had not 
 spoken to her, I could believe that she loved me, or would
 
 APRIL'S LADY 305 
 
 love me ; I could hope. And if she had laughed ! No, I 
 had not the courage to tell her what I was feeling ; one 
 cruel word would have tortured me. I kept silence, and 
 I was jealous, unkind; I took pleasure in vexing her, 
 while torturing myself. Then when her eyes filled with 
 tears when, in short, she suffered, wounded in her 
 woman's pride, I suffered still more. I felt a mad long- 
 ing to clasp her in my arms and beg her forgiveness, 
 but I dared not, and the mischief was done; I was 
 wretched enough to kill myself, and I " 
 
 Emotion choked him ; he was silent, burying his fore- 
 head in his hands. 
 
 " And do you believe," said Daran, " that you could 
 have loved thus, suffered thus, without having this poor 
 child whom you slander see anything, understand any- 
 thing? Do you suppose that there has never been any- 
 thing in your eyes, your voice; yes, even in the midst 
 of your anger, which did not cry out your love and your 
 suffering? Come, come! And, as for supposing that 
 Miss Severn made the calculation of which you speak " 
 
 " She did not love me." 
 
 " She did not love you when you were engaged, of 
 course! Neither did you love her. Besides, that is 
 not the best of my reasons. I know Miss Severn very 
 slightly ; I have talked with her only two or three times. 
 . Well, what do you want me to tell you? It 
 was sufficient for me to see her fifteen minutes, to meet 
 her beautiful, frank eyes, to be certain to-day that, if 
 she had wished to break her engagement with you, she 
 would have told you so face to face, openly, as she told 
 you that she was marrying you without loving you.
 
 306 APRIL'S LADY 
 
 If I were you, I should return to Paris to-morrow. I 
 should go to Mademoiselle Gemier's house, and I should 
 tell my fiancee all, first my love, then " 
 
 " No," interrupted Michel. " It is a question of 
 pride with me. If I listened to my heart, it would not 
 be long, ah ! Heaven, no ! But you heard what I said 
 to Colette. I wish Suzanne to feel free. If she has 
 known nothing about the Metropolitan Bank, if the story 
 Colette told me is true, Suzanne will write without delay, 
 as she promised. If, on arriving at Paris she has learned 
 all, she will also write. Perhaps she will write to me; 
 then be sure that I shall soon be with her. And, besides, 
 even if she learns nothing, who knows? I shall possibly 
 find a line at my home in Paris, where she thinks I am." 
 
 Michel grew excited while speaking; his face bright- 
 ened. 
 
 " She will certainly have written to me that I might 
 come to see her or to Robert. Why didn't I think 
 of that? You are right, I always look at things in the 
 worst light. It would be so simple, so natural to expect 
 and yet I cannot, my friend, I cannot " 
 
 " At least write to her." 
 
 " It is her place to write." 
 
 " And if she has not written ? " Daran cut in almost 
 brutally. 
 
 Michel started. 
 
 " Why do you say that ? Why shouldn't she write ? " 
 
 " How do I know ? For the reason that neither you 
 nor I know the cause of this strange departure? What 
 shall you do, if she doesn't write ? " 
 
 " I shall wait two days, three days at most, then I will
 
 APRIL'S LADY 307 
 
 write to her myself; I will tell her that I am a ruined man, 
 and that I will give her back her promise that is what 
 I shall do. But I will take no step beforehand ; I have 
 irrevocably decided upon that, and no one could shake 
 my resolution." 
 
 Michel now spoke in a tone so firm that Daran did 
 not insist. With a slight shrug of the shoulders, he 
 rose and held out his hand to his friend. 
 
 " Good night, old man," he said ; " you must have a 
 little rest and quiet now; I'll meet you at the seven 
 o'clock train to-morrow." 
 
 As soon as he returned home, Albert Daran took up 
 a notebook and wrote an address in it. Mademoiselle 
 Gemier, 35 Rue des Saints-Peres.
 
 VII 
 
 UZANNE had not written. Like Michel, she was 
 waiting. 
 
 The second day after her departure from Castelflore, 
 always dominated by the same idea, telling herself that 
 all was ended, she was in despair over the indifference of 
 her future husband, even before being certain that Michel 
 knew of her escapade. 
 
 After luncheon she had taken refuge in Mademoiselle 
 Gemier's drawing-room and was trying to sew, when Al- 
 bert Daran was announced. Then wild terror made her 
 spring from her seat ; in an instant all the accidents, all 
 the diseases, all the more or less probable events which 
 might have befallen Michel, whom she had left perfectly 
 well a few days before, darted through her brain and 
 with a bound, rushing to meet the entering visitor, she 
 could utter only one word : " Michel ? " 
 
 " Michel is well," replied Daran quickly, " and, like 
 him, all those you love." 
 
 " Does Michel send you ? " the young girl questioned 
 again. 
 
 " No, Mademoiselle ; I have ventured to come myself. 
 Will you pardon the liberty I have taken in doing so ? " 
 
 Very pale, with one hand unconsciously clenched upon 
 her throbbing breast, Miss Severn motioned Michel's 
 friend to a seat. 
 
 " It is my place to ask pardon, Monsieur Daran," 
 
 she said, " for I am receiving you in a very strange 
 
 308
 
 APRIL'S LADY 309 
 
 way. But I feel so alone, so deserted! For two 
 days " 
 
 It was not yet two days, but the time had seemed to 
 her very long. 
 
 " For two days, I have had nothing from any one, no 
 one has remembered me." 
 
 This general term of no one might be translated by a 
 single name: Michel. 
 
 " But, Mademoiselle," replied Daran, very respect- 
 fully, " did not you state, when you left a little ab- 
 ruptly that you would write ? At least that is what 
 Madame Fauvel told Michel, whom I accompanied to 
 Castelflore." 
 
 "To Castelflore?" 
 
 " To Castelflore, the evening of the day before yes- 
 terday, Mademoiselle. Besides, have you written? " 
 
 " No," answered Miss Severn, in a curt tone ; " no, I 
 have not written." 
 
 And the idea entered her head: why had not chance, 
 why had not Providence permitted her to meet Michel 
 before she had put her unfortunate project into execu- 
 tion ? But no ; the trains had passed each other at some 
 intermediate station. 
 
 Daran made no answer. The young girl hesitated 
 only a moment. 
 
 " I did not write," she said, " because I did not want 
 to write. Oh ! I know, I have often boasted of being a 
 reasonable person but the most reasonable often have 
 their hours of unreason. I imagined all sorts of things. 
 I was in trouble I " 
 
 She stopped, her lips quivered; she seemed on the
 
 310 APRIL'S LADY 
 
 verge of weeping. Daran could only question her with 
 his eyes. In spite of his good intentions he did not feel 
 that he had any right to interrogate more explicitly. 
 
 " Mademoiselle Gemier did not write to me ; Mademoi- 
 selle Gemier did not summon me," she went on with 
 feverish vivacity. " If I left Castelflore, it was because 
 Claude Bethune said oh ! only to tease me, in jest, not 
 knowing the harm he was doing, that absurd story of our 
 engagement which had been concealed from me yes, 
 that is why I went away and then, too, on account of 
 that horrible woman " 
 
 " What horrible woman? " asked Daran bewildered. 
 
 " That comtesse, you know very well, come that 
 horrible Comtesse Wronska ! " 
 
 " Comtesse Wronska? " repeated Daran, who under- 
 stood less and less. " Why, Michel has not seen her for 
 years." 
 
 " Years ! Ah ! you are well informed ; I congratulate 
 you," cried Miss Severn hotly. " He saw her at Trou- 
 ville this spring, and then he spent all Sunday with her 
 at Barbizon. She wrote to Michel, she oh ! I should 
 like to kill her!" 
 
 " Come, Mademoiselle," replied Daran, summoning all 
 his eloquence and all his judgment, " it seems to me that 
 that in your emotion, you are entangling matters a 
 little. Suppose we should try to classify them? I have 
 lived longer than you, and I have often had occasion to 
 prove that the ma j ority of quarrels come from what peo- 
 ple have neglected to explain clearly. Yes, I assure you, 
 one perceives ninety times out of a hundred that a mere 
 nothing, a word, would have been enough to comprehend ;
 
 APRIL'S LADY 311 
 
 it is always this one word which has not been spoken." 
 
 Miss Severn shook her head with an air of doubt and 
 discouragement. 
 
 " Do not be angry with me," continued Daran ; " I 
 am the oldest, and I might almost dare to affirm, the most 
 devoted of Michel's friends ; by this title I feel, very re- 
 spectfully, your friend also. That is why I believe I 
 have the right to speak to you with this frankness." 
 
 " I am not at all angry with you," murmured the 
 young girl. 
 
 " Thank you. This being agreed, I am going to 
 prove at once how deceptive appearances often are. 
 You tell me that Comtesse Wronska was at Barbizon, and 
 that your betrothed husband had spent Sunday with her. 
 I did not know, I confess, that Comtesse Wronska had 
 written to Michel, but what I do know perfectly is that 
 Michel did not go to Barbizon Sunday. He wrote to 
 say that he was detained at Rivailler. And I have the 
 better reason to state this because my valet carried the 
 letter to the station, and Tremor spent all day Sunday, 
 the entire day I think he dined at Castelflore at my 
 house. Upon this fact, at least, I give you my word as 
 an honest man." 
 
 " Oh ! dear Monsieur Daran ! " 
 
 She had clasped her hands, her face was radiant. 
 
 " You see, Mademoiselle," concluded the inventor of 
 the Elixir des Muscogulges, smiling, " that there might 
 perhaps be a little exaggeration in killing Comtesse 
 Wronska." 
 
 " And Claude's story," said Suzanne. " You must 
 know it, since Michel has no secrets from you."
 
 312 APRIL'S LADY 
 
 Daran assented. 
 
 " That is why I came. Oh ! to think that that ridicu- 
 lous joke was the cause of our engagement; to think 
 that, in consequence of a jest, Michel believed himself 
 forced to marry me ; to think, above all, that it was I who 
 thrust myself upon him, who wrote to say that I would 
 consent to be his wife when he had no desire to marry 
 me ; to think that he that he did not love me, that per- 
 haps he did not even like me, who knows ? Oh, it is ter- 
 rible, unbearable. Day before yesterday, when I dis- 
 covered it all, I wanted to die." 
 
 " It is very fortunate that so imprudent a wish did 
 not fall into the ears of some wicked fairy, Mademoi- 
 selle," remarked Daran. " The somewhat singular cir- 
 cumstances which accompanied let us say even caused 
 Michel's engagement are known to me. I should 
 speak falsely were I to tell you that Tremor was delighted 
 with Claude's April Fool trick. No, at first, this impru- 
 dent young fellow's conduct very justly exasperated 
 him. He had even positively decided to inform you, 
 through Madame Bethune, that he did not intend to 
 marry." 
 
 "But then?" 
 
 " At least it was with this intention that he set out one 
 morning for Precroix. What took place then between 
 you and him, Mademoiselle, I do not know. But at that 
 time, Michel was already very weary of his wandering 
 life, very weary of solitude. Even admitting that the 
 circumstances may have stimulated a somewhat timid 
 will, believe that it was by his own free wish that Michel 
 ratified the offer of that little rascal, Claude. And, be-
 
 APRIL'S LADY 313 
 
 sides, Mademoiselle, what do things in the past matter, 
 since Michel who, at that time, felt only an affectionate 
 sympathy for the little cousin whom he had scarcely seen, 
 now loves sincerely, ardently, with all his heart, the 
 fiancee whom he knows, whom he admires, to whom he 
 has given his life? " 
 
 " Has he ever told you so ? " cried Suzanne, as Tremor 
 had done the evening before. 
 
 " Yes, Mademoiselle," Daran assented ; " he has told 
 me so in the tower of Saint-Sylvere, while giving himself 
 up, like you, to the most improbable and the most unjust 
 conjectures; he told me so while torturing his heart, 
 while longing to rush to you, and denying himself this 
 joy; he told me so with a multitude of mad words. He 
 simply worships you, and the only thing that surprises 
 me is that you have not divined this adoration." 
 
 Suzanne had flushed deeply. The happy light again 
 appeared in her eyes, but without yet illumining her 
 face. 
 
 " Oh ! " she murmured, " there are days when we think 
 we divine, and then others " 
 
 Even at this hour, she did not dare to be wholly con- 
 vinced. 
 
 " If he loves me," she continued, trying to look severe, 
 " why didn't he come, cost what it might ; why, having no 
 letter from me, did he not at least write to me, why, 
 why?" 
 
 " Why, Mademoiselle," replied Daran, more gravely. 
 " Perhaps it is not my place to tell you; yet you must 
 know. Because the Metropolitan Bank has just failed, 
 because Michel finds himself, in a day, ruined, ruined tq
 
 314 APRIL'S LADY 
 
 the point of being compelled to seek in the provinces 
 some poor little position as an archivist or librarian and, 
 under these conditions, he wishes to restore your freedom 
 that is why"
 
 VIII 
 
 J? IV E o'clock was about striking. Three times during 
 the day, Michel had managed to return home, always 
 hoping to find a letter from Suzanne, or a telegram from 
 Colette. On that day, detesting deception, he had been 
 obliged to inform his brother-in-law of Miss Severn's 
 presence at Mademoiselle Gemier's. Robert had in- 
 stantly expressed his intention of going to the boarding- 
 house in the Rue des Saints-Peres, at the first moment 
 of leisure, but he was very busy, and as Michel had 
 avoided giving the facts to Monsieur Fauvel, the latter 
 had not paid much attention to the incident. 
 
 After having confessed his real feelings to Daran, 
 Michel experienced a sort of shame for this openness. 
 He lunched with his friend and saw him two or three 
 times without alluding to the conversation of the even- 
 ing before. Daran respected this reserve. He cher- 
 ished no illusions concerning the efficacy of the efforts 
 made to shake Michel's determination. But though 
 Tremor might conceal his suffering, Albert well knew 
 that in the midst of the most serious business, the young 
 man still felt in the depths of his heart the little bleeding 
 wound, while through his fevered brain constantly passed 
 the temptation of those few words : " 35 Rue des Saints- 
 Peres." 
 
 And the clairvoyant friend was not mistaken. More 
 than once, since his arrival in Paris, Michel had 
 
 been on the point of going to ask Suzanne for the ex- 
 
 315 

 
 316 APRIL'S LADY 
 
 planation he desired, while dreading. Yet he had re- 
 sisted. 
 
 Neither letter, nor despatch. How the hours dragged 
 along ! 
 
 The anguish was becoming unbearable. The next 
 day he would write or go to the Rue des Saints-Peres. 
 
 After a fatiguing day he had returned, feeling very 
 lonely and greatly depressed, to the apartment where so 
 many things subtly reminded him of the comforts and 
 delicate pleasures of his past life, yet experiencing a 
 great need of solitude and rest. 
 
 The servant had gone out; no step, no sound dis- 
 tracted Michel's thoughts. At the utmost a carriage 
 occasionally passed along the street below. 
 
 Tremor had sunk down upon the sofa in the smoking- 
 room, where a few months before he had talked so long 
 with Daran, and he remained there, without moving, his 
 cigarette out, lost in a sort of reverie. 
 
 It seemed as if he had absorbed some anassthetic pow- 
 erful enough to paralyse the motions of his limbs, too 
 weak to affect his thoughts. 
 
 He heard the little bell at the door, but so vaguely, 
 that the practical idea of going to open it did not cross 
 his mind. It rang a second time, more loudly ; then the 
 young man remembered that he had told Daran the hour 
 when he expected to return home, and he rose quickly. 
 
 At first Michel saw in the frame of the open doorway 
 only a woman dressed in dark clothing, then it seemed 
 as if a brilliant light suddenly illumined his visitor. He 
 recognised Suzanne, and a singular mental phenomenon 
 took place. While a flood of joy filled his heart, the
 
 APRIL'S LADY 317 
 
 dim suspicion of a caprice, an intentional cruelty arose. 
 Even at the moment when, perhaps madly, he almost be- 
 lieved that his sufferings had been needless, he recalled 
 them more fully and, with his complex feelings, came 
 a sort of fierce resentment, strange and passionate wrath 
 against the fragile creature who thus appeared before 
 him. He did not ask himself whether Suzanne had 
 heard of the disaster to the Metropolitan Bank, or if he 
 still had to tell her. He did not remember, he realised 
 one thing only that in two days he had seemed to 
 live through a whole existence, yet she was there, brought 
 by a vision of the imagination, ready to smile, no doubt, 
 perhaps waiting for the forgiveness to be implored 
 which she herself should have sought, or rather not sus- 
 pecting the torture she had caused for mere amuse- 
 ment. 
 
 " It is I," said Miss Severn, in a voice she endeavoured 
 to render calm and even brave, though at the sight of 
 Michel when the door opened, she had started. 
 
 Tremor silently showed her into the smoking-room, 
 then closed the door. 
 
 " Will you at last have the kindness," he said, " to 
 inform me what has taken place within these two days? 
 Not only did you leave Castelflore like a fugitive, but 
 you did not consider it necessary to write a word to 
 Colette or to me, you " 
 
 Tears rushed to Suzanne's eyes, and she made an in- 
 stinctive gesture to ask for mercy. 
 
 " I went away because Claude had told me because 
 I thought that horrible things ! and then Daran 
 came, he told me that you were ruined, that you were
 
 318 APRIL'S LADY 
 
 going to be a poor archivist in some province, that you 
 no longer wished to marry me " 
 
 Michel listened with haggard features and white lips, 
 not daring to speak, not daring to guess what Suzanne 
 was going to say, his whole being concentrated in the 
 gaze bent upon the agitated face of the young girl. 
 
 For an almost imperceptible instant Miss Severn 
 stopped, then clasping her hands and half weeping, she 
 implored : 
 
 " Oh, Michel, I will work if it is necessary. I en- 
 treat you, marry me all the same, I " 
 
 But already, with a stifled cry, Michel had seized her, 
 prisoned her in his arms, and for a long moment thus 
 pressed her to his heart, finding no words to express the 
 triumphant joy he felt, losing all idea of time, of the 
 things surrounding him, not even seeing his. love, only 
 conscious of her sweet presence, the perfume of her hair, 
 the warmth of her brow, the emotion of her poor little 
 heart. 
 
 When he spoke, it was as if in a dream, very low, with 
 an absurd fear of waking vanished sorrows. 
 
 " You wished to marry only a rich man ? " 
 
 " I did not know " 
 
 " Then you do love me a little? " 
 
 " A little," she murmured ; " yes, that is it " 
 
 " My little Zanne, my beloved child, my treasure I 
 worship you ! " 
 
 Now he looked at her, admired her, wondered to find 
 her wholly changed and yet entirely herself; he kissed 
 her hair, he kissed away her tears, enjoying more sweetly
 
 APRIL'S LADY 319 
 
 than in the first moment this happiness of being loved 
 with genuine affection, with a love stronger than events, 
 powerful enough to dominate them, perhaps to trans- 
 form sorrow into joy, and anxieties to happiness. 
 
 Then Suzanne sat down in the very place where he had 
 suffered so much through her a moment ago. Then 
 the dream the little fiancee had often had, and which had 
 penetrated her despair the evening of the day before 
 yesterday, was realised. 
 
 As on the morning after the ball at Chesnaie, she saw 
 the stern lord of the tower of Saint-Sylvere kneeling be- 
 fore her. In a low tone, he told the young girl that he 
 loved, worshipped her, that he was happy, that he had 
 long adored her, but had never dared to tell her so. He 
 said that he was still rich enough to give the woman he 
 loved an easy life, yet he added that, even if he had been 
 obliged to become " a poor archivist in some province," 
 he would never have found courage, if she loved him, to 
 give her up. He told her what their future life would 
 be, that he would work a great deal ; they would live in 
 modest style in Paris, and perhaps might keep the tower 
 of Saint-Sylvere. And then again that he loved, he 
 worshipped his Susy, his little Zanne, and that he was 
 happy ! 
 
 She listened, delighted, scarcely answering. She had 
 found the refuge for which she longed. Had there ever 
 been a time when she would have taken a different view 
 of life and happiness ? It seemed to her that everything 
 Michel said was beautiful and right, that everything he 
 might desire, everything he might do, would be good and
 
 320 APRIL'S LADY 
 
 beautiful. It seemed as if this hour was even sweeter 
 than her dreams had pictured it. She enjoyed its ex- 
 quisite happiness with a sort of astonishment. It was 
 really Michel who was talking, who was tenderly saying 
 all these things. 
 
 At the end of a moment, Suzanne related Claude's 
 revelations, and her grief, her wild resolutions. She 
 wished to justify her reckless flight; perhaps she also 
 desired to hear from Michel's own lips the story which 
 Daran had shortened. 
 
 This story was another delicious thing. 
 
 " I astonished you very much that day at the Be- 
 thunes'. I talked extravagantly ; had you ever imagined 
 marrying a young girl like me? " 
 
 He smiled. 
 
 " No." 
 
 " Did you dislike me ? " Then, without waiting for 
 an answer : " Oh ! Michel, I was ignorant ! I did not 
 know how to dissimulate. I had no idea of French cus- 
 toms. Now I have learned. Michel, if you did not dis- 
 like me, why were you so disagreeable? Oh! dear, dis- 
 agreeable to such a degree! How could I ever have 
 been able to care for a man so disagreeable as you? " 
 
 " I was so jealous! And you were so coquettish, and 
 so American, and then I loved you so much ! " 
 
 " Oh ! that is a fine reason ! And now, here is a whole 
 half hour during which you have not scolded me! Yet, 
 I think, I have committed to-day the very worst of my 
 A merle anisms. ' ' 
 
 " In France," Miss Severn went on with a comical 
 assumption of seriousness, " a well-brought-up young
 
 APRIL'S LADY 321 
 
 girl would never permit herself to come all alone in this 
 way to a bachelor's rooms even though she was en- 
 gaged to him ! French customs " 
 
 " How well you have done to forget them at this mo- 
 ment, my dear little madcap ! " 
 
 Susy laughed. " But," she said, " it is only for once 
 I had not forgotten them at all. On the contrary ! " 
 
 She flushed crimson, her long lashes drooped and, 
 while glancing through them, she murmured : 
 
 " I thought that when I had come so, alone, to a 
 ' bachelor,' you would be obliged to become my husband ; 
 that is it." 
 
 " Oh ! my darling ! " was his only reply, touched by 
 the smiling words. Then he added : 
 
 " Daran has made me more heroic than I am." 
 
 " Ah ! " exclaimed Miss Severn, with a little cry of 
 joy ; " how I adore that dear Daran ! " 
 
 " And so do I," agreed Michel. 
 
 She looked at him again with her bewitching glance, 
 so full of sparkling light. 
 
 " Michel," she said, " it seems to me that the little bit 
 of romance, you know, my grandmother's romance, has 
 grown in my mind till gradually, of late, it has reached 
 my heart." 
 
 But it was necessary to talk sensibly. They decided 
 that Suzanne should return to Castelflore that very even- 
 ing with Monsieur Fauvel. Michel, on account of an 
 appointment with Maitre Allinges, must take one of the 
 last trains. 
 
 On the threshold of the door, Miss Severn stopped, 
 saying :
 
 322 APRIL'S LADY 
 
 " Will you give me a very great pleasure? I should 
 like to make an appointment with you, too." 
 
 He smiled, murmuring with a little shade of reproach : 
 " As you did with Paul Reault." 
 
 " No," she said, without being disturbed by the re- 
 mark ; " Paul Reault did not come, and I want you to do 
 so. But when I said a meeting, no it is rather a pil- 
 grimage which we should make together." 
 
 Tremor questioned her with his eyes : 
 
 " To-morrow, at half past ten, to the Green Sepul- 
 chre ; will you ? " 
 
 While the young girl ran down the staircase Michel 
 remained leaning over the railing, following her with his 
 eyes. 
 
 He felt a sort of astonishment that an instant could 
 change everything in a life that it is possible to pass 
 thus, without any twilight, from sorrowful gloom to bril- 
 liant, blazing light.
 
 IX 
 
 rr HILE a wan sunlight was illumining the dew upon 
 the autumn leaves, Michel Tremor left the highway and 
 turned into the path which loiters idly toward the cross- 
 roads of Jouvelles and the Green Sepulchre. 
 
 A rough little breeze had ill-treated the wood. Al- 
 ready, like vague skeletons, the boughs could be divined 
 beneath the lighter foliage of the trees. Wings some- 
 times fluttered, little sharp cries expressed some sudden 
 pain. And the pale, pale sun seemed like a phantom of 
 the day-star. 
 
 Michel Tremor thought of a day in March when he 
 had thus followed the road to Jouvelles, believing that 
 it resembled many others, when yonder, in the chapel, 
 near the sleeping knight, his fate awaited him. 
 
 The young man was comparing the Michel Tremor of 
 yesterday and the Michel Tremor of to-day. The sight 
 of the things which had passed before his eyes in the 
 spring recalled the thoughts of that time. Faustina 
 Morel, Comtesse Wronska! How those two names had 
 occupied his brain, dragging with them the joys and 
 sufferings of former days. 
 
 Michel again saw Faustine's smile, the smile which had 
 rested on the young girl's fresh lips and the cleverly 
 rouged mouth of the woman, the little ironical smile 
 whose secret he had never fathomed. 
 
 In this hour of solitude which suddenly brought him 
 
 face to face with the past, Michel realised with singular 
 
 323
 
 324 APRIL'S LADY 
 
 intensity what a distance now separated him from that 
 time which he now scarcely recognised. 
 
 The utter indifference of to-day melted into a sort of 
 pity, not only for Faustine, but all the men and women 
 who, in so short a life, suffer so many things. A feeling 
 of melancholy stole over him, blending with his joy, 
 without lessening it. Perhaps this very melancholy 
 might be counted among the moral elements which made 
 of his new love a new feeling, that differed as much 
 from the former one as the man whom he had become 
 differed from the man he had been. It was a deeper 
 love, though pervaded by so glowing a passion. 
 
 But, above all, it was Love ! And gradually an emo- 
 tion took possession of Michel's heart and mind, drown- 
 ing every memory, paralysing every effort of analysis, 
 as the towers and the ivy robe of the Green Sepulchre 
 rose before him and every step brought him nearer the 
 goal of the pilgrimage to which, by a pretty caprice of 
 tenderness, Suzanne had bidden him. What mattered the 
 past, the future, since she was there, loving, at last con- 
 quered ! 
 
 He fancied he already saw her, with her ruffled hair, 
 her rosy cheeks, in the gown she had worn the evening 
 before, a dark silk gown, with light frills about the 
 neck. He saw her joyous smile, heard her coaxing voice, 
 a little childish in certain inflections. She was there, 
 close at hand; she was there. 
 
 Tremor entered ; he had seen the figure of the knight 
 from the doorway. All was very still, very silent around 
 this stone slumber. And Suzanne? 
 
 A light, slender figure darted suddenly from the back
 
 APRIL'S LADY 325 
 
 of the chapel, and Tremor at first felt a great and some- 
 what childish disappointment in seeing as if he had 
 gone back six months into the past the little bicyclist 
 in the boyish costume who had appeared to him one 
 spring evening beneath the blue light of a Gothic glass 
 window. 
 
 It was not she whom he had expected, no, not she at 
 all. He felt this very keenly, but he tried to struggle 
 against the impression ; he even forced a smile unless 
 it was in answer to another smile which emerged from 
 the shadow with the unlucky sporting costume. 
 
 " Ah ! here you are at last ! " 
 
 She had held out both hands and, disarmed, Tremor 
 had clasped them and kissed one after the other. 
 
 She was still smiling, her eyes sparkling, very femi- 
 ninely pretty, and Michel gazed at her forgetting every- 
 thing else. 
 
 " Come, Mr Scientist," she said* taking the young 
 man's hand in her turn ; " come and decipher a very an- 
 cient and thoroughly historical inscription." 
 
 She led Michel to the rear of the chapel, and among 
 the names written on the wall by so many women, mis- 
 chievously pointed out one which was alone of its kind, 
 at least under this foreign form, a very short name: 
 Susy. The four letters were those the little bicyclist had 
 traced by the light of a lantern, while, with his head full 
 of memories Michel, standing on the threshold of the 
 door, sadly watched the falling rain. 
 
 " Michel," asked Miss Severn, repeating, with a little 
 emotion in her laughing voice, the legendary words: 
 " Is there a sweeter name? "
 
 326 
 
 Tremor shook his head. 
 
 " No, my darling Susy, not to me," he said tenderly ; 
 " no, I know of none sweeter." 
 
 Suzanne looked at him with anxious intentness. 
 
 " Not even that of Allys? " 
 
 " Not even that." 
 
 She continued, unconsciously emphasising the words : 
 
 " Not even that of Faustine ? " 
 
 " Not even that, oh ! I swear it ! " 
 
 " Do you remember," Susy went on more gaily, " that 
 I thought you looked like the knight I think so still." 
 
 " Yes, certainly, I remember." 
 
 " And do you remember what the legend you told me 
 said? Only a name sweeter than that of Allys could re- 
 store the poor knight's repose. Can he sleep in peace, 
 Michel? " 
 
 Michel smiled with a very young expression. 
 
 " The legend said something else. And that is why 
 the village girls were afraid to write their names in the 
 chapel. It said that being very much in love with her 
 who had saved him, the knight would not permit that she 
 should have any other husband than he You are 
 right, my beloved Zanne, the knight and I do resemble 
 each other a little." 
 
 " You resemble each other a great deal, so far as jeal- 
 ousy is concerned. Confess ! " 
 
 But she did not give Michel time to confess. 
 
 " What did you say in your letter to that wicked 
 comtesse ? " she cried, seized with suspicion. 
 
 Tremor could not help laughing at the connection. 
 
 " I told her that my fiancee had just been very ill,
 
 APRIL'S LADY 327 
 
 that for a moment I feared losing her, and that I was 
 still too anxious to leave her, even for a day." 
 
 " Oh ! Michel, that was not perfectly true, but how 
 nice of you to say so ! I detest that woman ! " 
 
 "Oh! why?" 
 
 " Because. She has not written to you again ? " 
 
 " No." 
 
 " You will never see her again ? " 
 
 " Never, very probably. But I could, I assure you." 
 
 " You don't love her at all, not at all? " 
 
 " It is a very long time, Susy, since I have loved 
 her." 
 
 " Is that true? " 
 
 " Why, yes, it is true." 
 
 "Perfectly true?" 
 
 " Perfectly." 
 
 Miss Severn reflected an instant, then gently laying 
 her hands on Michel's shoulders, she looked up at him, 
 her eyes full of smiles. 
 
 " No matter," she said, " I would rather, I would much 
 rather you should not see her again." 
 
 Michel regained possession of the two little hands and 
 gazed silently at the pretty, coquettish face with its 
 downcast lashes. 
 
 " Susy," he murmured, deciding to speak, " why did 
 you put. on this hideous costume which I dislike ? " 
 
 She turned her head toward the door with a nod, and 
 said drolly : 
 
 " I have my fancies." 
 
 But the explanation did not seem sufficient, for Michel 
 continued in the 'same tone of gentle reproach :
 
 328 APRIL'S LADY 
 
 " When I see you thus disguised, I no longer find my 
 pretty fiancee ; you look like a naughty little boy." 
 
 " The past must be reconstituted," she said, with the 
 same comical expression, " and then " 
 
 She paused and in a lower tone, with sudden emotion, 
 continued : 
 
 " Michel, I am not perfect, I have many faults. Per- 
 haps, who knows? I wanted to remind you of them 
 to-day? This ugly little boy who has often shocked you 
 is not dead in me. From time to time, alas ! he will re- 
 appear, oh! that is certain, even when we are married. 
 He will weary you ; he will vex you again and I want 
 you to love him, Michel, though he displeases you, as 
 you love the Susy who pleases you. Oh ! dearest, I want, 
 I want you to love him." 
 
 She spoke sweetly, timidly, in a delicate fear, a pretty 
 humility, expressing as best she could that ardent desire, 
 that necessity for exclusive love, tender indulgence, 
 which she had in her heart. Michel was deeply touched. 
 Speaking also in a very low tone, as if the secret must 
 belong to Suzanne alone, he said the words she expected : 
 
 " Well, I will love him ; I do love him I love you 
 only ; I love all that is in you, all that is you." 
 
 And he added smiling, a little embarrassed: 
 
 " I, too, have faults, and far more than you, perhaps. 
 Have you forgotten how often I have been unjust, 
 cruel even to you, whom I worshipped? Let us love 
 each other fully, my own dear love; let us love each 
 other such as we are." 
 
 And never, as at that hour, had he felt that he loved 
 Suzanne " such as she was," such as nature, environment,
 
 APRIL'S LADY 329 
 
 education had made her, that he loved in her, not an 
 ideal, but her entire self ; that he loved her, in short, with 
 that exclusive and clairvoyant love of which six months 
 before, on the strand of Trouville, with her enigmatic 
 smile upon her lips, Comtesse Wronska had spoken. 
 
 Gradually the wan sun had brightened. It was shin- 
 ing with a more golden radiance upon the grass and the 
 leaves which framed the door ; it flamed with the yellows 
 and blues of the ancient glass ; it lay with a warm caress 
 upon the brow of the knight. And it seemed as if the 
 grave stone countenance was beaming with a gentle joy, 
 as if really, on this autumn morning something myste- 
 rious had brought him peace. Michel felt as if this 
 beautiful smiling sun had penetrated his own heart. It 
 suddenly seemed to him that he regretted nothing of the 
 past, not even perhaps the fortune whose loss had at first 
 affected him so painfully. 
 
 The brilliant rays reminded him of another morning 
 when, with all the windows open to the April light, he 
 had tried to classify, to follow Daran's advice, the 
 documents which constituted the foundation of his fu- 
 ture History of the Hetheens. He saw again the scat- 
 tered sheets, the notes, the piles of sketches ; he recalled 
 his fumbling, his uncertainties, his indolent hesitations 
 of that time. No, he regretted no portion of the past. 
 Now new energies awoke in him. He would labour. 
 He would try to realise his dreams. He would no longer 
 work as a dilettante, in idleness ; he would toil valiantly, 
 sanely, giving all his efforts, all his capacity, like a man. 
 
 With her head leaning on her lover's breast, Suzanne 
 looked at him from time to time, but without speaking.
 
 330 APRIL'S LADY 
 
 " Michel," she murmured at last, unconsciously an- 
 swering the thought within her companion's mind, " is 
 not God good and life beautiful? We shall be very 
 happy." 
 
 " Yes, very happy," he assented. 
 
 Then he bent to the face smiling up at him; in the 
 ancient chapel by the soft blue light which had sheltered 
 their first interview, they exchanged the kiss of their 
 real betrothal. 
 
 And the grave knight of the tower of Saint-Sylvere 
 was thinking the same thoughts as the little April 
 fiancee ; he was thinking that God is good ; he was think- 
 ing also that life is beautiful, when a great work is its 
 duty, and a great love is its joy.
 
 A 000114122 5