agotert tuition 
 
 THE SEVEN 
 CARDINAL SINS 
 
 In Five Volumes 
 By 
 
 Eugene Sue 
 
 PRIDE Volume L 
 Illustrated 
 
 New York and Boston 
 
 H. M. Caldwell Company 
 
 Publishers
 
 Copyright, 1899 
 BY FRANCIS A. NICCOLLS & Co. 
 
 Pride Vol. I.
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 ffAPTEB PAGE 
 
 I. THE OLD COMMANDER . . . . .13 
 
 II. THE BRAVE DUKE 24 
 
 III. THE DINNER IN THE ARBOUR ... 32 
 
 IV. THE DUCHESS 41 
 
 V. THE LION OF THE BALL .... 54 
 
 VI. THE DUEL 66 
 
 VII. THE PRETTY MUSICIAN . . . .73 
 
 Vm. THE UNHAPPY SECRET 79 
 
 IX. THE PRIVATE INTERVIEW .... 89 
 
 X. REVELATIONS 96 
 
 XI. THE PURSE OF MONEY 106 
 
 XII. A VAIN INTERVIEW 115 
 
 XIII. UNEXPECTED CONSOLATION .... 125 
 
 XIV. THE SOLEMN COMPACT 136 
 
 XV. A GLORIOUS DREAM 145 
 
 XVI. AN INCOMPREHENSIBLE REFUSAL . . . 154 
 
 XVII. PRESUMPTION AND INDIGNATION . . . 161 
 
 XVIII. A PURELY BUSINESS TRANSACTION . . 171 
 
 XIX. IN M. DE MORNAND'S STUDY . . . 177 
 
 XX. ATTENTIONS TO THE HEIRESS . . . 185 
 
 XXI. THE HUNCHBACK MEETS THE HEIRESS . 195 
 
 XXn. AN ORGY OF SINCERITY . 204 
 
 2082667
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAPTER PAGE 
 
 XXIII. AN INVOLUNTARY AVERSION .... 213 
 
 XXIV. AN UNWELCOME VISITOR .... 224 
 XXV. MATRIMONIAL INTENTIONS DISCLOSED . . 232 
 
 XXVI. THE COMMANDER'S ADVICE .... 242 
 
 XXVII. THE ABODE OF THE DUCHESS . . . 251 
 
 XXVIII. A SACRED MISSION 261 
 
 XXIX. HUMILIATION AND CONSOLATION . . . 273 
 
 XXX. AN APOLOGY ACCEPTED 283 
 
 XXXI. THE PRIVATE STAIRWAY . . . .293 
 
 XXXII. UNBURDENING THE HEART .... 302 
 
 XXXm. THE THREE RIVALS 310 
 
 XXXIV. TORMENTED BY DOUBTS 321
 
 LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 " < HERE is A VERY IMPORTANT LETTER ' " . Frontispiece 
 " RAN HIS BLADE THROUGH HIS ANTAGONIST'S RIGHT 
 
 ARM" 69 
 
 "SHE HELD OUT THE BANK-NOTE" 130 
 
 " ' I WILL GO AND TRY TO FIND THAT YOUNG COX- 
 COMB ' " . 278 
 
 Pride, Vol. L
 
 PRIDE. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 THE OLD COMMANDER. 
 
 Elle avait un vice, 1'orgueil, qui lui tenait lieu de toutes les 
 qualite's. 1 
 
 COMMANDER BERNARD, a resident of Paris, after hav- 
 ing served under the Empire in the Marine Corps, and 
 under the Restoration as a lieutenant in the navy, was 
 retired about the year 1830, with the brevet rank of 
 captain. 
 
 Honourably mentioned again and again for his daring 
 exploits in the maritime engagements of the East In- 
 dian war, and subsequently recognised as one of the 
 bravest soldiers in the Russian campaign, M. Bernard, 
 the most unassuming and upright of men, with the 
 kindest heart in the world, lived quietly and frugally 
 upon his modest pension, in a little apartment on one 
 of the least frequented streets of the Batignolles. 
 
 An elderly woman, named Madame Barbangon, had 
 kept house for him ten years or more, and, though really 
 very fond of him, led him a rather hard life at times, 
 
 1 She bad one fault, pride, which, in her, answered in place of all the 
 virtues. 
 
 13
 
 PRIDE. 
 
 for the worthy female, who had an extremely high tem- 
 per and a very despotic disposition, was very fond of 
 reminding her employer that she had sacrificed an 
 enviable social position to serve him. 
 
 The real truth was, Madame Barbangon had long 
 acted as assistant in the establishment of a well-known 
 midwife, an experience which furnished her with mate- 
 rial for an inexhaustible stock of marvellous stories, 
 her great favourite being her adventure with a masked 
 lady who, with her assistance, had brought a lovely girl 
 baby into the world, a child Madame Barban^on had 
 taken care of for two years, but which had been claimed 
 by a stranger at the expiration of that time. 
 
 Four or five years after this memorable event, Madame 
 Barbanc,on decided to resign her practice and assume 
 the twofold functions of nurse and housekeeper. 
 
 About this time Commander Bernard, who was suffer- 
 ing greatly from the reopening of several old wounds, 
 needed a nurse, and was so well pleased with Madame 
 Barbanon's skill that he asked her to enter his 
 service. 
 
 "You will have a pretty easy time of it, Mother 
 Barban^on," the veteran said to her. " I am not hard 
 to live with, and we shall get along comfortably to- 
 gether." 
 
 Madame Barban9on promptly accepted the offer, ele- 
 vated herself forthwith to the position of Commander 
 Bernard's dame de confiance, and slowly but surely be- 
 came a veritable servant-mistress. Indeed, seeing the 
 angelic patience with which the commander endured 
 this domestic tyranny, one would have taken the old 
 naval officer for some meek-spirited rentier, instead of 
 one of the bravest soldiers of the Empire. 
 
 Commander Bernard was passionately fond of garden- 
 ing, and lavished any amount of care and attention 
 upon a little arbour, constructed by his own hands and 
 covered with clematis, hop-vines, and honeysuckle, where 
 
 14
 
 THE OLD COMMANDER. 
 
 he loved to sit after his frugal dinner and smoke his 
 pipe and think of his campaigns and his former com- 
 panions in arms. This arbour marked the limits of the 
 commander's landed possessions, for though very small, 
 the garden was divided into two parts. The portion 
 claimed by Madame Barban9on aspired only to be useful ; 
 the other, of which the veteran took entire charge, was 
 intended to please the eye only. 
 
 The precise boundaries of these two plats of ground 
 had been, and were still, the cause of a quiet but deter- 
 mined struggle between the commander and his house- 
 keeper. 
 
 Never did two nations, anxious to extend their fron- 
 tiers, each at the expense of the other, resort to more 
 trickery or display greater cleverness and perseverance 
 in concealing and maintaining their mutual attempts at 
 invasion. 
 
 We must do the commander the justice to say that he 
 fought only for his rights, having no desire to extend, 
 but merely to preserve his territory intact, territory 
 upon which the bold and insatiable housekeeper was 
 ever trying to encroach by establishing her thyme, sa- 
 vory, parsley, and camomile beds among her employer's 
 roses, tulips, and peonies. 
 
 Another cause of heated controversy between the 
 commander and Madame Barban9on was the implacable 
 hatred the latter felt for Napoleon, whom she had never 
 forgiven for the death of a young soldier, the only 
 lover she had ever been able to boast of, probably. She 
 carried this rancour so far, in fact, as to style the Em- 
 peror that " Corsican ogre," and even to deny him the 
 possession of any military genius, an asseveration that 
 amused the veteran immensely. 
 
 Nevertheless, in spite of these diverse political senti- 
 ments, and the ever recurring and annoying question 
 of the boundaries of the two gardens, Madame Barban- 
 9on was, at heart, sincerely devoted to her employer, 
 
 15
 
 PRIDE. 
 
 and attended assiduously to his every want, while the 
 veteran, for his part, would have sorely missed his 
 irascible housekeeper's care and attentions. 
 
 The spring of 1844 was fast drawing to a close. 
 The May verdure was shining in all its freshness ; three 
 o'clock in the afternoon had just sounded ; and though 
 the day was warm, and the sun's rays ardent, the pleas- 
 ant scent of freshly watered earth, combined with the 
 fragrant odour of several small clumps of lilacs and 
 syringas, testified to the faithful care the commander 
 bestowed upon his garden, for from a frequently and 
 laboriously filled wash-tub sunk in the earth, and dignified 
 with the name of reservoir, the veteran had just treated 
 his little domain to a refreshing shower ; nor had he, in 
 his generous impartiality, excluded his housekeeper's 
 vegetable beds and kitchen herbs from the benefits of 
 his ministrations. 
 
 The veteran, in his gardening costume of gray linen 
 jacket and big straw hat, was now resting from his 
 labours in the arbour, already nearly covered with a 
 vigorous growth of clematis and honeysuckle. His 
 sunburned features were characterised by an expression 
 of unusual frankness and kindness, though a heavy 
 moustache, as white as his bristling white hair, imparted 
 a decidedly martial air to his physiognomy. 
 
 After wiping the sweat from his forehead with a blue 
 checked handkerchief and returning it to his pocket, 
 the veteran picked up his pipe from a table in the 
 arbour, filled and lighted it, then, establishing himself 
 in an old cane-bottomed armchair, began to smoke and 
 enjoy the beauty of the day, the stillness of which was 
 broken only by the occasional twitter of a few birds and 
 the humming of Madame Barban^on, who was engaged 
 in gathering some lettuce and parsley for the supper 
 salad. If the veteran had not been blessed with nerves 
 of steel, his dolce far niente would have been sadly dis- 
 turbed by the monotonous refrain of the old-fashioned 
 
 16
 
 -THE OLD COMMANDER. 
 
 love song entitled " Poor Jacques," which the worthy 
 woman was murdering in the most atrocious manner. 
 
 " Mais a present que je suis loin de toi, 
 Je mange de tout sur la terre," J 
 
 she sang in a voice as false as it was nasal, and the 
 lugubrious, heart-broken expression she gave to the words, 
 shaking her head sadly the while, made the whole thing 
 extremely ludicrous. 
 
 For ten years Commander Bernard had endured this 
 travesty without a murmur, and without taking the 
 slightest notice of the ridiculous meaning Madame 
 Barban9on gave to the last line of the chorus. 
 
 It is quite possible that to-day the meaning of the 
 words struck him more forcibly, and that a desire to 
 devour everything upon the surface of the earth did not 
 seem to him to be the natural consequence of separation 
 from one's beloved, for, after having lent an impartial 
 and attentive ear a second time to his housekeeper's dole- 
 ful ditty, he exclaimed, laying his pipe on the table : 
 
 " What the devil is that nonsense you are singing, 
 Madame Barbangon ? " 
 
 " It is a very pretty love song called l Poor Jacques,' " 
 snapped Madame Barbangon, straightening herself up. 
 " Every one to his taste, you know, monsieur, and you 
 have a perfect right to make fun of it, if you choose, of 
 course. This isn't the first time you have heard me 
 sing it, though." 
 
 " No, no, you're quite right about that ! " responded 
 the commander, satirically. 
 
 " I learned the song," resumed the housekeeper, sigh- 
 ing heavily, " in days in days but enough ! " she 
 exclaimed, burying her regrets in her capacious bosom. 
 "I sang it, I remember, to that masked lady who 
 came " 
 
 "I'd rather hear the song," hastily exclaimed the 
 
 1 Instead of " Je manque de tout sur la terre." 
 17
 
 PRIDE. 
 
 veteran, seeing himself threatened with the same tire- 
 some story. " Yes, I much prefer the song to the story. 
 It isn't so long, but the deuce take me if I understand 
 you when you say : 
 
 " ' Mais a present que je suis loin de toi, 
 Je mange de tout sur la terre.' " 
 
 " What, monsieur, you don't understand ? " 
 
 No, I don't." 
 
 " It is very plain it seems to me, but soldiers are so 
 unfeeling." 
 
 " But think a moment, Mother Barban9on ; here is a 
 girl who, in her despair at poor Jacques's absence, sets 
 about eating everything on the face of the earth." 
 
 " Of course, monsieur, any child could understand 
 that." 
 
 " But I do not, I must confess." 
 
 " What ! you can't understand that this unfortunate 
 young girl is so heart-broken, after her lover's departure, 
 that she is ready to eat anything and everything even 
 poison, poor thing! Her life is of so little value to 
 her, she is so wretched that she doesn't even know 
 what she is doing, and so eats everything that happens 
 to be within reach and yet, her misery doesn't move 
 you in the least." 
 
 The veteran listened attentively to this explanation, 
 which did not seem to him so entirely devoid of reason, 
 now, after all. 
 
 "Yes, yes, I understand," he responded, nodding his 
 head ; " but it is like all love songs extremely far- 
 fetched." 
 
 " ' Poor Jacques ' far-fetched ? The idea ! " cried 
 Madame Barbangon, indignantly. 
 
 " ' Every one to his taste,' as you remarked a moment 
 ago," answered the veteran. " I like our old sea songs 
 very much better. A man knows what he is singing 
 about when he sings them." 
 
 18
 
 THE OLD COMMANDER. 
 
 And in a voice as powerful as it was discordant, the 
 old captain began to sing : 
 
 " Pour aller a Lorient pgcher des sardines, 
 Pour aller a Lorient pecher des harengs " 
 
 " Monsieur ! " exclaimed Madame Barbangon, inter- 
 rupting her employer, with a highly incensed and pru- 
 dish air, for she knew the end of the ditty, " you forget 
 there are ladies present." 
 
 " Is that so ? " demanded the veteran, straining his 
 neck to see outside of the arbour. 
 
 " There is no need to make such an effort as that, it 
 seems to me," remarked the housekeeper, with great 
 dignity. " You can see me easy enough, I should think." 
 
 " That is true, Mother Barban^on. I always forget 
 that you belong to the other sex, but for all that I like 
 my song much better than I do yours. It was a great 
 favourite on the Armide, the frigate on which I shipped 
 when I was only fourteen, and afterwards we sang it 
 many a time on dry land when I was in the Marine 
 Corps. Oh, those were happy days ! I was young then." 
 
 "Yes, and then Bu-u-onaparte " it is absolutely 
 necessary to spell and accent the word in this way, to 
 give the reader any idea of the disdainful and sneering 
 manner in which Mother Barbangon uttered the name of 
 the great man who had been the cause of her brave 
 soldier boy's death " Bu-u-onaparte was your leader." 
 
 " Yes, the Emperor, that ' Corsican ogre,' the Emperor 
 you revile so, wasn't far off, I admit." 
 
 " Yes, monsieur, your Emperor was an ogre, and 
 worse than an ogre." 
 
 " What ! worse than an ogre ? " 
 
 "Yes, yes, laugh as much as you like, but he was. 
 Do you know, monsieur, that when that Corsican ogre 
 had the Pope in his power at Fontainebleau, do you know 
 how grossly he insulted our Holy Father, your beast of 
 a Bu-u-onaparte ? " 
 
 19
 
 PRIDE. 
 
 " No, Mother Barban9on, I never heard of it, upon 
 my word of honour." 
 
 " It is of no use for you to deny it ; I heard it from a 
 young man in the guards " 
 
 " Who must be a pretty old customer by this time, 
 but let us hear the story." 
 
 "Ah, well, monsieur, your Bu-u-onaparte was mean 
 enough, in his longing to humiliate the Pope, to harness 
 him to the little King of Rome's carriage, then get into 
 it and make the poor Holy Father drag him across the 
 park at Fontainebleau, in order that he might go in this 
 fashion to announce his divorce to the Empress Jose- 
 phine that poor, dear, good woman ! " 
 
 " What, Mother Barbangon," exclaimed the old sailor, 
 almost choking with laughter, " that scoundrel of an 
 Emperor made the Pope drag him across the park in the 
 King of Rome's carriage to tell the Empress Josephine 
 of his divorce ? " 
 
 " Yes, monsieur, in order to torment her on account 
 of her religion, just as he forced her to eat a big ham 
 every Good Friday in the presence of Roustan, that 
 dreadful mameluke of his, who used to boast of being a 
 Mussulman and talk about his harem before the priests, 
 just to insult the clergy, until they blushed with shame. 
 There is nothing to laugh at in all this, monsieur. At 
 one time, everybody knew and talked about it, even ' 
 
 But, unfortunately, the housekeeper was unable to con- 
 tinue her tirade. Her recriminations were just then 
 interrupted by a vigorous peal of the bell, and she 
 hurried off to open the door. 
 
 A few words of explanation are necessary before the 
 introduction of a new character, Olivier Raymond, Com- 
 mander Bernard's nephew. 
 
 The veteran's sister had married a copyist in the 
 Interior Department, and after several years of wedded 
 life the clerk died, leaving a widow and one son, then 
 
 20
 
 THE OLD COMMANDER. 
 
 about eight years of age ; after which several friends of 
 the deceased interested themselves in the fatherless 
 boy's behalf, and secured him a scholarship in a fairly 
 good school. 
 
 The widow, left entirely without means, and having no 
 right to a pension, endeavoured to support herself by her 
 needle, but after a few years of pinched and laborious 
 existence she left her son an orphan. His uncle Ber- 
 nard, his sole relative, was then a lieutenant in com- 
 mand of a schooner attached to one of our naval stations 
 in the Southern Pacific. Upon his return to France, the 
 captain found that his nephew's last year in college was 
 nearing an end. Olivier, though his college course had 
 been marked by no particularly brilliant triumphs, had 
 at least thoroughly profited by his gratuitous education, 
 but unfortunately, this education being, as is often the 
 case, far from practical, his future on leaving college 
 was by no means assured. 
 
 After having reflected long and seriously upon his 
 nephew's precarious position, and being unable to give 
 him any pecuniary assistance by reason of the smallness 
 of his own pay, Commander Bernard said to Olivier : 
 
 " My poor boy, there is but one thing for you to 
 do. You are strong, brave, and intelligent. You have 
 -received an education which renders you superior to 
 most of the poor young men who enlist in the army. 
 The conscription is almost sure to catch you next year. 
 Get ahead of it. Enlist. In that case, you will at least 
 be able to select the branch of the service you will enter. 
 There is fighting in Africa, and in five or six years 
 you are likely to be made an officer. This will give you 
 some chance of a career. Still, if the idea of a military 
 life is distasteful to you, my dear boy, we will try to 
 think of something else. We can get along on my pay, 
 as a retired officer, until something else offers. Now 
 think the matter over." 
 
 Olivier was not long in making up his mind. Three 
 
 21
 
 PRIDE. 
 
 months afterward he enlisted, on condition that he 
 should be assigned to the African Chasseurs. A year 
 later he was a quartermaster's sergeant ; one year after- 
 ward a quartermaster. Attacked with one of those 
 stubborn fevers, which a return to a European climate 
 alone can cure, Olivier, unfortunately, was obliged to 
 leave Africa just as he had every reason to expect an 
 officer's epaulettes. After his recovery he was assigned 
 to a regiment of hussars, and, after eighteen months' 
 service in that, he had recently come to spend a six 
 months' furlough in Paris, with his uncle. 
 
 The old sailor's flat consisted of a tiny kitchen, into 
 which Madame Barban^on's room opened, of a sort of 
 hall-way, which served as a dining-room, and another 
 considerably larger room, in which the commander and 
 his nephew slept. Olivier, knowing how little his uncle 
 had to live on, would not consent to remain idle. He 
 wrote a remarkably good hand, and this, together with 
 the knowledge of accounts acquired while acting as 
 quartermaster, enabled him to secure several sets of 
 books to keep among the petty merchants in the neigh- 
 bourhood ; so, instead of being a burden upon the veteran, 
 the young officer, with Madame Barbangon's connivance, 
 secretly added his mite to the forty-eight francs' pay the 
 commander received each month, besides treating his 
 uncle now and then to agreeable surprises, which both 
 delighted and annoyed the worthy man, knowing, as he 
 did, the assiduous labour Olivier imposed upon himself 
 to earn this money. 
 
 Accustomed from childhood to privations of every 
 kind, first by his experience as a charity pupil, and 
 subsequently by the vicissitudes of army life in Africa, 
 kind-hearted, genial, enthusiastic, and brave, Olivier had 
 but one fault, that is, if an excessive delicacy in all 
 money matters, great and small, can be called a fault. 
 As a common soldier, he even carried his scruples so 
 far that he would refuse the slightest invitation from 
 
 22
 
 THE OLD COMMANDER. 
 
 his comrades, if he was not allowed to pay his own 
 score. This extreme sensitiveness having been at first 
 ridiculed and considered mere affectation, two duels, in 
 which Olivier quite covered himself with glory, caused 
 this peculiarity in the character of the young soldier to 
 be both accepted and respected. 
 
 Olivier, cheerful, obliging, quick-witted, and delighted 
 with everything, enlivened his uncle's modest home im- 
 mensely by his gay spirits. In his rare moments of 
 leisure the young man cultivated his taste by reading 
 the great poets, or else he spaded and watered and 
 gardened with his uncle, after which they smoked their 
 pipes, and talked of foreign lands and of war. At 
 other times, calling into play the culinary knowledge 
 acquired in African camps, Olivier initiated Madame 
 Barbangon into the mysteries of brochettes de mouton 
 arid other viands, the cooking lessons being enlivened 
 with jokes and all sorts of teasing remarks about Bu-u-o- 
 naparte, though the housekeeper scolded and snubbed 
 Olivier none the less because she loved him with her 
 whole heart. In short, the young man's presence had 
 cheered the monotonous existence of the veteran and 
 his housekeeper so much that their hearts quite failed 
 them when they recollected that two months of Olivier's 
 leave had already expired. 
 
 23
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 THE BRAVE DUKE. 
 
 OLIVIER RAYMOND was not more than twenty-four 
 years of age, and possessed a singularly expressive and 
 attractive face. His short, white hussar jacket, trimmed 
 with red and decorated with yellow frogs, his well-cut, 
 light blue trousers, that fitted his well-formed supple 
 limbs perfectly, and his blue kepi, perched upon one side 
 of a head covered with hair of the same bright chestnut 
 hue as his moustache, imparted an extremely dashing 
 and martial air to his appearance, only, instead of a 
 sabre, Olivier carried that day under his left arm a big 
 roll of papers, and in his right hand a formidable bundle 
 of pens. 
 
 As the young man deposited these eminently peaceful 
 implements upon a table, he turned, and exclaimed 
 gaily, " How are you, Mamma Barbanc,on ? " 
 
 In fact, he even had the audacity to put his long arms 
 about the housekeeper's bony waist, and give her a 
 slight squeeze as he spoke. 
 
 " Will you never have done with your nonsense, you 
 rascal ? " snapped the delighted housekeeper. 
 
 " Oh, this is only the beginning. I've got to make a 
 complete conquest of you, Mamma Barban9on." 
 
 "Of me?" 
 
 " Unquestionably. It is absolutely necessary. I'm 
 compelled to do it." 
 
 "And why?" 
 
 " In order to induce you to grant me a favour." 
 
 We'll see about that. What is it ? " 
 24
 
 THE BRAVE DUKE. 
 
 " Tell me first where my uncle is." 
 
 " Smoking his pipe out under the arbour." 
 
 " All right ! Wait for me here, Mamma Barban9on, 
 and prepare your mind for something startling." 
 
 " Something startling, M. Olivier ? " 
 
 " Yes, something monstrous unheard-of impos- 
 sible ! " 
 
 " Monstrous unheard-of " repeated Madame Bar- 
 bangon, wonderingly, as she watched the young soldier 
 dash off in pursuit of his uncle. 
 
 " How are you, my lad ? I didn't expect you so early," 
 said the old captain, holding out his hand to his nephew 
 in pleased surprise. " Home so soon ! But so much the 
 better ! " 
 
 " So much the better ! " retorted Olivier, gaily. " On 
 the contrary, you little know what is in store for you. 
 Courage, uncle, courage ! " 
 
 " Stop your nonsense, you young scoundrel ! " 
 
 " Close your eyes, and now, ' forward march ! ' ' 
 
 " Forward march ? Against whom ? " 
 
 " Against Mother Barban9on, my brave uncle." 
 
 " But why ? " 
 
 " To break the news that that that I have invited 
 some one to dinner." 
 
 " The devil ! " exclaimed the veteran, recoiling a step 
 or two in evident dismay. 
 
 " To dinner to-day," continued the young lieutenant. 
 
 "The devil!" reiterated the veteran, recoiling three 
 steps this time. 
 
 " Moreover, my guest is a duke," continued Olivier. 
 
 " A duke ! We are lost ! " faltered the veteran. 
 
 And this time he entirely vanished from sight in his 
 verdant refuge, where he seemed as resolved to maintain 
 his stand as if in some impregnable fortress. " May 
 the devil and all his imps seize me if I undertake to 
 announce any such fact as this to Mother Barbangon ! " 
 
 " What, uncle, an officer of marines afraid ? "
 
 PRIDE. 
 
 " But you've no idea what a scrape you've got your- 
 self into, young man ! It's a desperate case, I tell you. 
 You don't know Madame Barbangon. But, good heavens, 
 here she comes now ! " 
 
 " Our retreat is cut off, uncle," laughed the young 
 man, as Madame Barbanc,on, whose curiosity had been 
 excited to such a degree that she could wait no longer, 
 appeared in the entrance to the arbour. " My guest 
 will be here in an hour at the very latest, and we needs 
 must conquer or perish of hunger, you and I and my 
 guest, whose name, I ought to tell you, is the Due de 
 Senneterre." 
 
 " It's no affair of mine, unhappy boy," responded the 
 commander. " Tell her yourself ; here she is." 
 
 But Olivier only laughed, and, turning to the dreaded 
 housekeeper, exclaimed : 
 
 " My uncle has something to tell you, Madame Bar- 
 
 "There's not a word of truth in what he says," 
 protested the veteran, wiping the sweat from his brow 
 with his checked handkerchief. " It is Olivier who has 
 something to tell you." 
 
 " Come, come, uncle, Mother Barbangon is not as 
 dangerous as she looks. Make a clean breast of it." 
 
 " It is your affair, my boy. Get out of the scrape as 
 best you can." 
 
 The housekeeper, after having glanced first at the 
 uncle and then at the nephew with mingled curiosity 
 and anxiety, at last asked, turning to her employer : 
 
 " What is it, monsieur ? " 
 
 "Ask Olivier, my dear woman. As for me, I've 
 nothing whatever to do with it; I wash my hands of 
 the whole affair." 
 
 " Ah, well, Mamma Barbangon," said the young sol- 
 dier, bravely, "you are to lay three covers instead of 
 two at dinner, that is all." 
 
 " Three covers, M. Olivier, and why ? " 
 
 26
 
 THE BRA YE DUKE. 
 
 " Because I have invited a former comrade to dine 
 with us." 
 
 " Bon Dieu ! " exclaimed the housekeeper, evidently 
 more terrified than angry, " a guest, and this is not even 
 pot au feu day. We have only an onion soup, a vinai- 
 grette made out of yesterday's beef, and a salad." 
 
 "And what more could you possibly want, Mamma 
 Barbanc,on ? " cried Olivier, joyously, for he had not 
 expected to find the larder nearly so well supplied. 
 " An onion soup concocted by you, a vinaigrette and a 
 salad seasoned by you, make a banquet for the gods, and 
 my comrade, Gerald, will dine like a king. Take 
 notice that I do not say like an emperor, Mamma 
 Barban^on." 
 
 But this delicate allusion to madame's anti-Bona- 
 partist opinions passed unnoticed. For the moment the 
 worshipper of the departed guardsman was lost in the 
 anxious housewife. 
 
 " To think that you couldn't have selected a pot au 
 feu day when it would have been such an easy matter, 
 M. Olivier," she exclaimed, reproachfully. 
 
 " It was not I but my comrade who chose the day, 
 Mamma Barbanc,on." 
 
 " But in polite society, M. Olivier, it is a very common 
 thing to say plainly : ' Don't come to-day ; come to- 
 morrow. We shall have the pot au feu then.' But, 
 after all, I don't suppose we've got dukes and peers to 
 deal with." 
 
 Olivier was strongly tempted to excite the worthy 
 housewife's perturbation to the highest pitch by telling 
 her that it was indeed a duke that was coming to eat 
 her vinaigrette, but scarcely daring to subject Madame 
 Barban^on's culinary self-love to this severe test, he 
 contented himself with saying : 
 
 " The mischief is done, Mamma Barban9on, so all I 
 ask is that you will not put me to shame in the presence 
 of an old African comrade." 
 
 27
 
 PRIDE. 
 
 " Great heavens ! is it possible you fear that, M. 
 Olivier ? Put you to shame I ? Quite the contrary, 
 for I would like " 
 
 " It is getting late," said Olivier, " and my friend will 
 soon be here, as hungry as a wolf, so, Mamma Barban- 
 9on, take pity on us ! " 
 
 " True, I haven't a minute to lose." 
 
 And the worthy woman bustled away, repeating dole- 
 fully, " To think he couldn't have chosen pot au feu 
 day." 
 
 " Well, she took it much better than I expected," 
 remarked the veteran. " It is evident that she is very 
 fond of you. But now, between ourselves, my dear 
 nephew, you ought to have warned me of your inten- 
 tions, so your friend might have found, at least, a pas- 
 sable dinner, but you just ask him to come and take 
 pot-luck ; and he is a duke into the bargain. But, tell 
 me, how the deuce did you happen to have a duke for a 
 comrade in the African Chasseurs ? " 
 
 " I'll explain, my dear uncle, for I'm sure you'll take 
 a great fancy to my friend Gerald. There are not many 
 of his stamp to be found nowadays, I assure you. We 
 were classmates at the college of Louis le Grand. I 
 left for Africa. Six months afterward my friend 
 Gerald was in the ranks beside me." 
 
 " A private ? " 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 "But why didn't he enter the army by way of St. 
 Cyr ? It was merely a whim or caprice on his part, I 
 suppose, this enlisting ? " 
 
 " No, uncle ; on the contrary, Gerald's conduct in the 
 matter has been the result of profound reflection. He 
 is a grand seigneur by birth, being, as I told you just 
 now, the Due de Senneterre." 
 
 " That is a name that has figured prominently in the 
 history of France," remarked the old sailor. 
 
 " Yes, the house of Senneterre is as ancient as it is 
 
 28
 
 THE BRAVE DUKE. 
 
 illustrious, uncle, but Gerald's family has lost the greater 
 part of the immense fortune it once possessed. There 
 remains now, I think, an income of barely forty thousand 
 francs a year. That is a good deal of money for the 
 generality of people, but not for persons of noble birth ; 
 besides, Gerald has two sisters who must be provided 
 with dowries." 
 
 " But tell me how and why your young duke hap- 
 pened to join the army as a private ? " 
 
 " In the first place, my friend Gerald is very original 
 in his ideas, and has all kinds of odd notions about life. 
 When he found himself within the conscription age, on 
 leaving college, his father he had a father then 
 remarked one day, as if it were the most natural thing 
 in the world, that arrangements must be made to secure 
 a substitute if any such contingency should arise, and 
 do you know what this peculiar friend of mine replied ? " 
 
 " Tell me." 
 
 " ' Father,' said Gerald, ' this is a duty that every 
 right-minded man owes to his country. It is an obliga- 
 tion of race, particularly when a war is actually going 
 on, and I consider it an ignoble act to endeavour to 
 escape the dangers of war by hiring some poor devil to 
 leave his farm or work-bench and go and run the risk 
 of being killed in your stead. To do this is to confess 
 ^oneself a coward, and, as I am not desirous of such a 
 reputation, I shall serve, if my name is drawn.' ' 
 
 " Zounds ! I'm in love with your young duke, 
 already ! " exclaimed the veteran. 
 
 " He stated the case pretty correctly, didn't he ? " re- 
 plied Olivier, with friendly complacency. " Though this 
 resolution seemed very strange to his father, that gentle- 
 man had too keen a sense of honour to oppose it. Gerald's 
 name was drawn, and that is the way he happened to be 
 a private in the African Chasseurs, currying his horse, 
 doing his share of the stable and kitchen work like the 
 rest of us, and even going to the guard-house without a 
 
 29
 
 PRIDE. 
 
 word of complaint if he absented himself without per- 
 mission. In short, there wasn't a better soldier in the 
 regiment." 
 
 " Nor a braver, too, I'll be bound," said the veteran, 
 more and more interested. 
 
 " Brave as a lion, and so gay and enthusiastic when 
 he charged upon the enemy that he would have fired 
 the hearts of a whole battalion ! " 
 
 " But with his name and connections, I should think 
 he would soon have been made an officer." 
 
 " And so he would, doubtless, though he cared nothing 
 about it, for when his term of service expired, and he 
 had paid his debt to his country, as he expressed it, he 
 said he wanted to return and again enjoy the pleasures 
 of Paris life of which he was passionately fond. After 
 three years of service Gerald had become a quartermaster 
 like myself. About this time he was severely wounded 
 in the shoulder during a bold charge upon quite a large 
 body of Arabs. Fortunately, I was able to extricate him 
 and carry him off the field, lifeless to all appearance, 
 on my horse. The result was he was f urloughed, and 
 on leaving the service he went back to Paris. We had 
 become quite intimate, and after his return to France 
 we kept up quite a brisk correspondence. I hoped to 
 meet him again upon my arrival here, but I learned that 
 he was travelling in England. This morning, as I was 
 walking along the boulevard, I heard some one call me 
 at the top of his voice, and, turning, I saw Gerald jump 
 out of a handsome cabriolet, and a second later we were 
 embracing each other as two friends embrace each other 
 on the battlefield after a warm engagement." 
 
 " * We must dine and spend the evening together,' he 
 said. ' Where are you staying ? ' 
 
 " ' With my uncle,' I replied. ' I have told him about 
 you a hundred times, and he loves you almost as much 
 as I do/ 
 
 u i Very well, then I will come and take dinner with 
 
 30
 
 THE BRA YE DUKE. 
 
 you,' said Gerald. ' I want to see your uncle. I have 
 a thousand things to say to him.' 
 
 "And knowing what a kind-hearted, unassuming 
 fellow Gerald is, I assented to his proposal, warning him, 
 however, that I should be obliged to leave him at seven 
 o'clock, exactly as if I were clerk of the court, or was 
 obliged to return to quarters," concluded Olivier, gaily. 
 
 " Good lad that you are ! " said the commander, 
 affectionately. 
 
 " It will give me great pleasure to introduce Gerald 
 to you, uncle, for I know that you will feel at ease with 
 him at once ; besides," continued the young soldier, colour- 
 ing a little, " Gerald is rich, I am poor. He knows my 
 scruples, and as he is aware that I could not afford to 
 pay my share of the bill at any fashionable restaurant, 
 he preferred to invite himself here." 
 
 " I understand," said the veteran, " and your young 
 duke shows both delicacy of feeling and kindness of 
 heart in acting thus. Let us at least hope that Madame 
 BarbanQon's vinaigrette won't disagree with him," added 
 the commander, laughing. 
 
 He had scarcely given utterance to this philanthropical 
 wish when the door-bell gave another loud peal, and a 
 moment afterwards the uncle and nephew saw the young 
 Due de Senneterre coming down the garden walk pre- 
 ceded by Madame Barban9on, who was in such a state of 
 mental perturbation that she had entirely forgotten to 
 remove her big kitchen apron. 
 
 31
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 THE DINNER IN THE ARBOUR. 
 
 THE Due de Senneterre, who was about Olivier Ray- 
 mond's age, had a distinguished bearing, and an exceed- 
 ingly handsome and attractive face, with black hair and 
 moustache, and eyes of a deep rich blue. His attire was 
 marked with an elegant simplicity. 
 
 " Uncle, this is Gerald, my best friend, of whom I have 
 so often spoken," said Olivier. 
 
 " I am delighted to see you, monsieur," said the vet- 
 eran, cordially offering his hand to his nephew's friend. 
 
 "And I, commander," rejoined Gerald, with that 
 deference to age which is imbibed from prolonged mili- 
 tary service, " am sincerely glad to have the honour of 
 pressing your hand. I know all your goodness to Olivier, 
 and as I regard him almost as a brother, you must 
 understand how thoroughly I have always appreciated 
 your devotion to him." 
 
 " Gentlemen, will you have your soup in the house or 
 under the arbour, as you usually do when the weather is 
 fine ? " inquired Madame Barbanc,on. 
 
 " We will dine in the arbour if the commander ap- 
 proves, my dear Madame Barban^on," responded Gerald ; 
 " it will be charming ; the afternoon is perfect." 
 
 " Monsieur knows me ? " exclaimed the housekeeper, 
 looking first at Olivier, and then at the duke, in great 
 astonishment. 
 
 " Know you, Madame Barbanc,on ? " exclaimed Gerald, 
 gaily. " Why, hasn't Olivier spoken of you a hundred 
 
 32
 
 THE DINNER IN THE ARBOUR. 
 
 times while we were in camp, and haven't we had more 
 than one quarrel all on your account ? " 
 
 " On my account ? " 
 
 " Most assuredly. That rascal of an Olivier is a great 
 Bonapartist, you know. He cannot forgive any one for 
 detesting that odious tyrant, and I took your part, for I, 
 too, abhor the tyrant that vile Corsican ogre ! " 
 
 " Corsican ogre ! You are a man after my own heart, 
 monsieur. Let us shake hands we understand each 
 other," cried the housekeeper, triumphantly. 
 
 And she extended her bony hand to Gerald, who 
 shook it heartily, at the same time remarking to the 
 commander : 
 
 " Upon my word, sir, you had better take care, and 
 you, too, Olivier, will have to look out now. Madame 
 Barbangon had no one to help her before, now she will 
 have a sturdy auxiliary in me." 
 
 " Look here, Madame Barbangon," exclaimed Olivier, 
 coming to the rescue of his friend whom the housekeeper 
 seemed inclined to monopolise, " Gerald must be nearly 
 famished, you forget that. Come, I'll help you bring the 
 table out here." 
 
 "True, I had forgotten all about dinner," cried the 
 housekeeper, hastening towards the house. 
 
 Seeing Olivier start after her, as if to aid her, Gerald 
 said: 
 
 " Wait a moment, my dear fellow, do you suppose I'm 
 going to leave all the work to you ? " 
 
 Then turning to the commander : 
 
 " You don't object, I trust, commander. I am making 
 very free, I know, but when we were in the army together 
 Olivier and I set the mess-table more than once, so 
 you will find that I'm not as awkward as you might 
 suppose." 
 
 It was a pleasure to see how cleverly and adroitly and 
 gaily Gerald assisted his former comrade in setting 
 the table under the arbour. The task was accomplished
 
 PRIDE. 
 
 so quickly and neatly that one would have supposed that 
 the young duke, like his friend, must have been used to 
 poverty all his life. 
 
 To please his friend, Gerald, in half an hour, made a 
 complete conquest of the veteran and his housekeeper, 
 who was delighted beyond expression to see her anti- 
 Bonapartist ally partake with great apparent enjoyment 
 of her onion soup, salad, and vinaigrette, to which Gerald 
 even asked to be helped twice. 
 
 It is needless to say that, during this cheerful repast, 
 the veteran, delicately led on by Gerald, was induced to 
 talk of his campaigns ; then, this tribute of respect paid 
 to their companion's superior years, the two young men 
 related all sorts of episodes of their college and army 
 life. 
 
 The veteran had lighted his pipe, and Gerald and 
 Olivier their cigars, when the latter happened to inquire 
 of his friend : 
 
 " By the way, what has become of that scoundrel, 
 Macreuse, who used to play the spy on us at college ? 
 You remember him ? a big, light-haired fellow, who 
 used to cuff us soundly as he passed, just because he 
 dared to, being twice as big as we were." 
 
 At the name of Macreuse, Gerald's face took on an 
 expression of mingled contempt and aversion, and he 
 replied : 
 
 "You speak rather slightingly, M. Celestin de 
 Macreuse, it seems to me." 
 
 " De Macreuse ! " cried Olivier. " He must have 
 treated himself to the de since we knew him, then. In 
 those days his origin was shrouded in mystery. No- 
 body knew anything about his parents. He was so poor 
 that he once ate half a dozen wood-lice to earn a 
 sou." 
 
 " And then he was so horribly cruel," added Gerald ; 
 " do you remember his putting those little birds' eyes 
 out with a pin to see if they would fly afterwards ? " 
 
 34
 
 THE DINNER IN THE ARBOUR. 
 
 " The scoundrel ! " exclaimed the indignant com- 
 mander. " Such a man as that ought to be flayed 
 alive." 
 
 " It would rejoice my heart to see your prediction 
 fulfilled, commander," said Gerald, laughing. Then, 
 turning to Olivier, he continued : " It will surprise you 
 very much, I think, when I tell you what I know of M. 
 Celestin de Macreuse. I have told you, I believe, how 
 very exclusive the society is in which my mother has 
 always moved, so you can judge of my astonishment 
 when one evening, shortly after my return to Paris, I 
 heard the name of M. de Macreuse announced in my 
 mother's drawing-room. It was the very man. I had 
 retained such an unpleasant recollection of the fellow, 
 that I went to my mother and said : 
 
 " ' Why do you receive that man who just spoke to 
 you, that big, light-haired, sallow man ? ' 
 
 " ' Why, that is M. de Macreuse,' my mother replied, 
 in tones indicative of the profoundest respect. 
 
 " ' And who is M. de Macreuse, my dear mother ? I 
 never saw him in your house before.' 
 
 " ' No, for he has just returned from his travels,' she 
 answered. ' He is a very distinguished and highly 
 exemplary young man, the founder of the St. Poly- 
 carpe Mission.' 
 
 *' * The deuce ! And what is the St. Polycarpe Mis- 
 sion, my dear mother ? ' 
 
 "'It is a society that strives to make the poor re- 
 signed to their misery by teaching them that the more 
 they suffer here, the happier they will be hereafter.' 
 
 " ' Se non $ vero, ben trovatoj I laughingly remarked. 
 ' But it seems to me that this fellow has a very plump 
 face to be advocating the good effects of starvation.' 
 
 " * My son, I meant every word that I just said to you,' 
 replied my mother, gravely. ' Many highly esteemed 
 persons have connected themselves with M. de Ma- 
 creuse's work, a work to which he devotes himself 
 
 35
 
 PRIDE. 
 
 with truly evangelical zeal. But here he comes. I 
 would like to introduce you to him.' 
 
 " < Pray do nothing of the kind, mother,' I retorted, 
 quickly. ' I am sure to be impolite ; I do not like the 
 gentleman's looks ; besides, what I already know of him 
 makes my antipathy to his acquaintance insurmount- 
 able. We were at college together, and ' 
 
 " But I was unable to say any more ; Macreuse was 
 now close to my mother, and I was standing beside her. 
 ' My dear M. de Macreuse,' she said to her protdge", in 
 the most amiable manner, after casting a withering look 
 at me, ' I wish to introduce my son, one of your former 
 classmates, who will be charmed to renew his acquaint- 
 ance with you.' 
 
 " Macreuse bowed profoundly, then said, in a rather 
 condescending way, 'I have been absent from Paris 
 some time, monsieur, and was consequently ignorant of 
 your return to France, so I did not expect to have the 
 honour of meeting you at your mother's house this even- 
 ing. We were at college together, and ' 
 
 " ' That is true,' I interrupted, ' and I recollect per- 
 fectly well how you played the spy on us to ingratiate 
 yourself with the teachers ; how you would stoop to any 
 dirty trick to make a penny ; and how you put out the 
 eyes of little birds with pins. Possibly this last was 
 in the charitable hope that their sufferings here would 
 profit them hereafter.' " 
 
 " A clever thrust that ! " exclaimed the commander, 
 with a hearty laugh. 
 
 " And what did Macreuse say ? " asked Olivier. 
 
 " The scoundrel's big moon face turned scarlet. He 
 tried to smile and stammer out a few words, but sud- 
 denly my mother, looking at me with a reproachful air, 
 rose, and to rescue our friend from his embarrassment, 
 I suppose, said, ' M. de Macreuse, may I ask you to take 
 me to get a cup of tea ? ' " 
 
 " But how did this man gain an entrance into such an 
 
 36
 
 THE DINNER IN THE ARBOUR. 
 
 exclusive circle as that of the Faubourg St. Germain ?" 
 inquired Olivier. 
 
 " Nobody knows exactly," replied Gerald. " This 
 much is true, however. If one door in our circle opens, 
 all the others soon do the same. But this first door is 
 hard to open, and who opened it for Macreuse nobody 
 knows, though some persons seem to think that it was 
 Abbe* Ledoux, a favourite spiritual director in our set. 
 This seems quite probable, and I have taken almost as 
 strong a dislike to the abbe* as to Macreuse. If this 
 dislike needed any justification, it would have it, so far 
 as I am concerned, in the estimate of Macreuse's char- 
 acter formed by a singular man who is rarely deceived 
 in his judgment of persons." 
 
 " And who is this infallible man, pray ? " inquired 
 Olivier, smiling. 
 
 " A hunchback no taller than that," replied Gerald, 
 indicating with his hand a height of about four and a 
 half feet. 
 
 " A hunchback ? " repeated Olivier, greatly surprised. 
 
 " Yes, a hunchback, as quick-witted and determined as 
 his satanic majesty himself, stiff as an iron bar to 
 those whom he dislikes and despises, but full of affection 
 and devotion to those whom he honours though such 
 persons, I am forced to admit, are rare and never 
 making the slightest attempt to conceal from any indi- 
 vidual the liking or aversion he or she inspires." 
 
 " It is fortunate for him that his infirmity gives him 
 this privilege of plain speaking," remarked the com- 
 mander. " But for thatj, your hunchback would be 
 likely to have a hard time of it." 
 
 " His infirmity ? " said Gerald, laughing. " Though a 
 hunchback, the Marquis de Maillefort is, I assure you " 
 
 " He is a marquis ? " interrupted Olivier. 
 
 " Yes, a marquis, and an aristocrat of the old school. 
 He is a scion of the ducal house of Hautmartel, the head 
 of which has resided in Germany since 1830. But 
 
 37
 
 PRIDE. 
 
 though he is a hunchback, M. de Maillefort, as I was 
 about to remark before, is as alert and vigorous as any 
 young man, in spite of his forty-five years. And, by the 
 way, you and I consider ourselves pretty good swords- 
 men, do we not ? " 
 
 " Well, yes." 
 
 " Very well ; the marquis could touch us eight times 
 out of twelve. He rivals the incomparable Bertrand. 
 His movements are as light as a bird's, and as swift as 
 lightning itself." 
 
 " This brave little hunchback interests me very much," 
 said the veteran. " If he has fought any duels his adver- 
 saries must have cut strange figures." 
 
 " The marquis has fought several duels, in all of which 
 he evinced the greatest coolness and courage, at least 
 so my father, who was a personal friend of the marquis, 
 once told me." 
 
 " And he goes into society in spite of his infirmity ? " 
 inquired Olivier. 
 
 " Sometimes he frequents it assiduously ; then absents 
 himself for months at a time. His is a very peculiar 
 nature. My father told me that for many years the 
 marquis seemed to be in a state of profound melancholy, 
 but I have never seen him other than gay and amusing." 
 
 " But with his courage, his skill in the use of weapons, 
 and his quick wit, he is certainly a man to be feared." 
 
 "Yes, and you can easily imagine how greatly his 
 presence disquiets certain persons whom society con- 
 tinues to receive on account of their birth, in spite of 
 their notorious villainies. Macreuse, for instance, as 
 soon as he sees the marquis enter by one door, makes 
 his escape by another." 
 
 The conversation was here interrupted by an incident 
 which would have been unworthy even of comment in 
 some parts of the town, but rare enough in the Batig- 
 nolles. 
 
 The arbour in which the little party had dined skirted 
 
 38
 
 THE DINNER IN THE ARBOUR. 
 
 the garden wall, and at the farther end of it was a lat- 
 ticed gate, which afforded the occupants a view of the 
 street beyond. A handsome carriage, drawn by two 
 superb horses stopped exactly in front of this gate. 
 
 This carriage was empty. 
 
 The footman on the box beside the driver, and, like 
 him, dressed in rich livery, descended from his seat, and 
 drawing from his pocket a letter that evidently bore an 
 address, looked from side to side as if in search of a 
 number, then disappeared, after motioning the coachman 
 to follow him. 
 
 " This is the first vehicle of that kind I've seen in the 
 Batignolles in ten years," remarked the old sailor. " It 
 is very flattering to the neighbourhood." 
 
 " I never saw finer horses," said Olivier, with the air 
 of a connoisseur. " Do they belong to you, Gerald ? " 
 
 " Do you take me for a millionaire ? " responded the 
 young duke, gaily. " I keep a saddle-horse, and I put 
 one of my mother's horses in my cabriolet, when she is 
 not using them. That is my stable. This does not 
 prevent me from loving horses, or from being something 
 of a sporting man. But, speaking of horses, do you 
 remember that dunce, Mornand, another of our college 
 mates ? " 
 
 % "And still another of our mutual antipathies, of 
 course I do. What has become of him ? " 
 
 " He is quite a distinguished personage now." 
 
 " He ! Nonsense ! " 
 
 " But I tell you he is. He is a member of the Chamber 
 of Peers. He discourses at length, there. People even 
 listen to him. In short, he is a minister in embryo." 
 
 " De Mornand ? " 
 
 " Yes, my worthy friend. He is as dull as ever, and 
 twice as arrogant and self-complacent. He doubts every- 
 thing except his own merit. He possesses an insatiable 
 ambition, and he belongs to a coterie of jealous and spite- 
 ful individuals, spiteful because they are mediocre, or, 
 
 39
 
 PRIDE. 
 
 rather, mediocre because they are spiteful. Such men 
 rise in the world with marvellous rapidity, though Mor- 
 nand has a broad back and supple loins, he will suc- 
 ceed, one aiding the other." 
 
 Just then the footman who had disappeared with the 
 carriage returned, and, seeing through the latticed gate 
 the little party in the arbour, approached, and, raising his 
 hand to his hat, said : 
 
 " Gentlemen, will you be so kind as to tell me if this 
 garden belongs to No. 7 ? " 
 
 " Yes," replied the commander. 
 
 "And to the apartment on the ground floor of that 
 house ? " 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 " I rang that bell three times, but no one answered it." 
 
 "I occupy that apartment," said the commander, 
 greatly surprised. " What do you want ? " 
 
 " Here is a very important letter for a Madame Bar- 
 ban^on, who, I am told, lives here." 
 
 " Yes, she does live here," replied the veteran, more 
 and more surprised. 
 
 Then, seeing the housekeeper at the other end of the 
 garden, he called out to her : 
 
 " Mother Barbanc,on, the door-bell has rung three 
 times, unanswered, while you've been trespassing upon 
 my preserves. Come quick ! Here is a letter for you." 
 
 40
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 THE DUCHESS. 
 
 MADAME BARBANPON promptly responded to this per- 
 emptory summons, and, after a hasty apology to her 
 employer, said to the waiting servant : 
 
 " You have a letter for me ? From whom ? " 
 
 " From the Comtesse de Beaumesnil, madame," replied 
 the man, handing Madame Barbangon the letter through 
 the lattice. 
 
 " Madame la Comtesse de Beaumesnil ? " exclaimed 
 the astonished housekeeper ; " I do not know her. I 
 not only don't know her, but I haven't the slightest 
 idea who she is not the slightest," the worthy woman 
 repeated, as she opened the letter. 
 
 " The Comtesse de Beaumesnil ? " inquired Gerald, 
 evidently much interested. 
 % " Do you know her ? " asked Olivier. 
 
 " I met her two or three years ago," replied Gerald. 
 " She was wonderfully beautiful, then, but the poor wo- 
 man has not left her bed for a year. I understand that 
 hers is a hopeless case. Worse still, M. de Beaumesnil, 
 who had gone to Italy with their only child, a daughter, 
 who was ordered south by the physicians, M. de Beau- 
 mesnil died quite recently in Naples, in consequence of 
 having been thrown from his horse, so if Madame de 
 Beaumesnil dies, as they apprehend, her daughter will 
 be left an orphan at the age of fifteen or sixteen years." 
 
 " Poor child ! This is really very sad," said the com- 
 mander, sympathisingly. 
 
 41
 
 PRIDE. 
 
 "Nevertheless, Mile, de Beaumesnil has a brilliant 
 future before her," continued Gerald, " for she will be 
 the richest heiress in France. The Beaumesnil property 
 yields an income of over three million francs ! " 
 
 " Three million francs ! " exclaimed Olivier, laughing. 
 " Can it be that there are people who really have an 
 income of three million francs ? Do such people come 
 and go, and move about and talk, just like other people ? 
 I should certainly like to be brought face to face with 
 one of these wonderful creatures, Gerald." 
 
 " I'll do my best to gratify you, but I warn you that as 
 a general thing they are not pleasant to contemplate. 
 I am not referring to Mile, de Beaumesnil, however; 
 she may be as beautiful as her mother." 
 
 " I should like very much to know how one can spend 
 such an income as that," said the commander, in all 
 sincerity, emptying the ashes from his pipe. 
 
 " Great Heavens ! is it possible ? " exclaimed Madame 
 Barbangon, who, in the meantime, had read the letter 
 handed to her. " I am to go in a carriage in a 
 carriage like that?" 
 
 " What is the matter, Mother Barbangon ? " inquired 
 the veteran. 
 
 " I must ask you to let me go away for a little while." 
 
 " Certainly, but where are you going, may I ask ? " 
 
 " To the house of Madame de Beaumesnil," replied 
 the good woman, in a very important tone. " She desires 
 some information which I alone can give, it seems. May 
 I turn Bonapartist if I know what to make of all this ! " 
 
 But the next instant the former midwife uttered an 
 exclamation, as if a new and startling idea had just 
 occurred to her, and, turning to her employer, she said : 
 
 " Monsieur, will you step out into the garden a mo- 
 ment with me ? I want to say a word to you in private." 
 
 " Oh," replied the veteran, following the lady out of 
 the arbour, " it is an important matter, it seems. Go on ; 
 I am listening, Madame Barbangon." 
 
 42
 
 THE DUCHESS. 
 
 The housekeeper, having led her employer a short 
 distance from the arbour, turned to him and said, with a 
 mysterious air : 
 
 " Monsieur, do you know Madame Herbaut, who lives 
 on the second floor and has two daughters ? The lady 
 to whom I introduced M. Olivier about a fortnight ago, 
 you recollect." 
 
 " I don't know her, but you have often spoken to me 
 about her. Well, what of it ?" 
 
 " I recollect now that one of her particular friends, 
 Madame Laine*, is now in Italy, acting as governess to 
 the daughter of a countess whose name sounds some- 
 thing like Beaumesnil. In fact, it may be this very 
 same countess." 
 
 "It may be, I admit, Mother Barbanon. Well, go 
 on." 
 
 " And she may have heard about me through Madame 
 Lame", whom I have met at Madame Herbaut's." 
 
 " That, too, is very possible, Madame Barban9on. You 
 will soon know for a certainty, however, as you are going 
 to Madame Beaumesnil's." 
 
 " Mon Dieu ! monsieur, another idea has just occurred 
 to me." 
 
 " Let us hear it," said the veteran, with infinite patience. 
 " I have told you about that masked lady who 
 
 " You're not going to tell that story again, surely ! " 
 cried the commander, with the evident intention of beat- 
 ing a retreat. 
 
 " No, monsieur, but what if all this should have some 
 connection with that young lady ? " 
 
 " The quickest way to ascertain, Mother Barban9on, 
 is to get off as soon as possible. We shall both be the 
 gainers by it." 
 
 " You are right, monsieur. I will go at once." 
 
 And following her employer, who had returned to his 
 guests in the arbour, the housekeeper said to the footman, 
 who was still standing a few feet from the gate : 
 
 43
 
 PRIDE. 
 
 " Young man, as soon as I can get my bonnet and 
 shawl on I shall be at your service." 
 
 And a few minutes afterwards Madame Barbangon, 
 triumphantly passing the gate in her carriage, felt that 
 the deference due her employer made it incumbent upon 
 her to rise to her feet in the vehicle, and bow low to the 
 commander and his guests. 
 
 Just then the clock in a neighbouring church struck 
 seven. 
 
 " Seven o'clock ! " exclaimed Olivier, evidently much 
 annoyed. " I am very sorry, my dear Gerald, but I shall 
 have to leave you." 
 
 " Already ! And why ? " 
 
 " I promised a worthy mason in the neighbourhood 
 that I would go over his accounts with him this evening, 
 and you have no idea what a task it is to straighten out 
 books like his ! " 
 
 " True, you did warn me that you would only be at 
 liberty until seven o'clock," replied Gerald. " I had 
 forgotten the fact, I was enjoying my visit so much." 
 
 " Olivier," remarked the veteran, whose spirits seemed 
 to have undergone a sudden decline since his nephew's 
 allusion to the work to which he intended to devote his 
 evening, " Olivier, as Madame Barbangon is absent, will 
 you do me the favour to bring from the cellar the last 
 bottle of that Cyprian wine I brought from the Levant ? 
 M. Gerald must take a glass of it with us before we 
 separate. The mason's accounts won't suffer if they do 
 have to wait half an hour." 
 
 "An excellent idea, uncle, for I do not have to be 
 as punctual now as if it were the week before pay-day. 
 I'll get the wine at once. Gerald shall taste your nectar, 
 uncle." 
 
 And Olivier hastened away. 
 
 "M. Gerald," began the commander, with no little 
 embarrassment, " it was not merely to give you a taste 
 of my Cyprian wine that I sent Olivier away. It was in 
 
 44
 
 THE DUCHESS. 
 
 order that I might be able to speak to you, his best 
 friend, very plainly in regard to him, and to tell you 
 how kind and thoughtful and generous he is." 
 
 " I know all that, commander. I know it well, but I 
 like to hear it from your lips, the lips of one who 
 knows and loves Olivier." 
 
 " No, M. Gerald, no, you do not know all. You have 
 no idea of the arduous, distasteful labour the poor boy 
 imposes upon himself, not only that he may be no 
 expense to me during his furlough, but that he may be 
 able to make me little presents now and then, which I 
 dare not refuse for fear of paining him. This handsome 
 pipe, it was he who gave it to me. I am very fond of 
 roses. He has just presented me with two superb new 
 varieties. I had long wanted a big easy chair, for when 
 my wounds reopen, which happens only too often, I am 
 sometimes obliged to sit up several nights in succession. 
 But a large armchair cost too much. Still, about a week 
 ago, what should I see some men bringing in but that 
 much desired article of furniture ! I might have known 
 it, for Olivier had spent I don't know how many nights 
 in copying documents. Excuse these confidential dis- 
 closures on the part of poor but honest people, M. 
 Gerald," said the old sailor, in a voice that trembled 
 with emotion, while a tear stole down his cheek, " but 
 my heart is full. I must open it to some one, and it is 
 a twofold pleasure to be able to tell all this to you." 
 
 Gerald seemed about to speak, but the commander 
 interrupted him. 
 
 " Pardon me, M. Gerald, you will think me too 
 garrulous, I fear, but Olivier will be here in a minute, 
 and I have a favour to ask of you. By reason of your 
 exalted position, you must have many grand acquaint- 
 ances, M. Gerald. My poor Olivier has no influence, 
 and yet his services, his education, and his conduct alike 
 entitle him to promotion. But he has never been will- 
 ing, or he has never dared to approach any of his 
 
 45
 
 PRIDE. 
 
 superiors on this subject. I can understand it, for if 
 I had been a ' hustler ' as you call it I should hold 
 a much higher rank to-day. It seems to be a family 
 failing. Olivier is like me. We both do our best, but 
 when it is a question of asking favours our tongues 
 cleave to the roof of our mouths, and we're ashamed to 
 look anybody in the face. But take care ! Here comes 
 Olivier," hastily exclaimed the old sailor, picking up his 
 pipe and beginning to puff at it with all his might ; 
 " try to look unconcerned, M. Gerald, for heaven's sake 
 try to look unconcerned, or 'Olivier will suspect some- 
 thing." 
 
 " Olivier must be a lieutenant before his leave expires, 
 commander, and I believe he will be," said Gerald, 
 deeply touched by these revelations on the part of the 
 veteran. " I have very little influence myself, but I will 
 speak to the Marquis de Maillefort. His word carries 
 great weight everywhere, and strongly urged by him, 
 Olivier' s promotion which is only just and right is 
 assured. I will attend to the matter. You need give 
 yourself no further anxiety on the subject." 
 
 "Ah, M. Gerald, I was not mistaken in you, I 
 see," said the commander, hurriedly. " You are kind as 
 a brother to my poor boy but here he is don't let 
 him suspect anything." 
 
 And the good man began to smoke his pipe with the 
 most unconcerned air imaginable, though he was obliged 
 furtively to dash a tear from out the corner of his eye, 
 while Gerald to divert his former comrade's suspicions 
 still more effectually, cried : 
 
 " So you've got here at last, slow-coach ! I'm strongly 
 inclined to think you must have fallen in with some 
 pretty barmaid like that handsome Jewess at Oran. Do 
 you remember her, you gay Lothario ? " 
 
 " She was a beauty, that's a fact," replied the young 
 soldier, smiling at the recollection thus evoked, " but she 
 couldn't hold a candle to the young girl I just met in 
 
 46
 
 THE DUCHESS. 
 
 the courtyard," replied Olivier, setting the dusty bottle of 
 Cyprian wine carefully on the table. 
 
 " Ah, your prolonged stay is easily explained now ! " 
 retorted Gerald. 
 
 "Just hear the coxcomb," chimed in the veteran. 
 " And who is this beauty ? " 
 
 " Yes, yes, do give us the particulars of your 
 conquest." 
 
 " She would suit you wonderfully well, M. le due," 
 laughed Olivier, " wonderfully well, for she is a duchess." 
 
 " A duchess ? " queried Gerald. 
 
 " A duchess here ! " exclaimed the commander. " The 
 locality is indeed honoured, to-day. This is something 
 new." 
 
 " I was only trying to gratify your vanity a little, 
 the vanity of a Batignollais, you know. My conquest, as 
 that harebrained Gerald is pleased to call it, is no con- 
 quest at all ; besides, the lady in question is not really a 
 duchess, though people call her so." 
 
 " And why, pray ? " inquired Gerald. 
 
 " Because they say she is as proud and beautiful as 
 any duchess." 
 
 " But who is she ? In my character of duke, my curi- 
 osity on this point should be gratified," insisted Gerald. 
 
 " She is a music teacher," replied Olivier. " She is 
 degrading herself terribly, you see." 
 
 "-Say rather the piano is becoming ennobled by the 
 touch of her taper fingers, for she must have the hands 
 of a duchess, of course. Come now, tell us all about it. 
 If you're in love, whom should you take into your con- 
 fidence if not your uncle and your former comrade ? " 
 
 " I sincerely wish I had the right to take you into my 
 confidence," said Olivier, laughing ; " but to tell the truth, 
 this is the first time I ever saw the young girl." 
 
 " But tell us all you know about her." 
 
 " There is a Madame Herbaut who has rooms on the 
 second floor of the house," replied Olivier, " and every 
 
 47
 
 PRIDE. 
 
 Sunday this excellent woman invites a number of young 
 girls, friends of her daughters, to spend the evening with 
 her. Some are bookkeepers or shop girls, others are 
 drawing teachers, or music teachers, like the duchess. 
 There are several very charming girls among them, I 
 assure you, though they work hard all day to earn an 
 honest living. And how intensely they enjoy their Sun- 
 day with kind Madame Herbaut ! They play games, and 
 dance to the music of the piano. It is very amusing to 
 watch them, and twice when Madame Barbanon took 
 me up to Madame Herbaut's rooms " 
 
 "I demand an introduction to Madame Herbaut, an 
 immediate introduction, do you hear ? " cried the young 
 duke. 
 
 " You demand you demand. So you think you have 
 only to ask, I suppose," retorted Olivier, gaily. " Under- 
 stand, once for all, that the Batignolles are quite as 
 exclusive as the Faubourg St. Germain." 
 
 " Ah, you are jealous ! You make a great mistake, 
 though, for real or supposed duchesses have very little 
 charm for me. One doesn't come to the Batignolles to 
 fall in love with a duchess, so you need have no fears on 
 that score ; besides, if you refuse my request, I'm on the 
 best possible terms with Mother Barban9on, and I'll ask 
 her to introduce me to Madame Herbaut." 
 
 " Try it, and see if you succeed in securing admit- 
 tance," responded Olivier, with a laughable air of im- 
 portance. " But to return to the subject of the duchess," 
 he continued, " Madame Herbaut, who is evidently de- 
 voted to her, remarked to me the other day, when I was 
 going into ecstasies over this company of charming young 
 girls: 'Ah, what would you say if you could see the 
 duchess ? Unfortunately, she has failed us these last two 
 Sundays, and we miss her terribly, for all the other girls 
 simply worship her; but some time ago she was sum- 
 moned to the bedside of a very wealthy lady who is 
 extremely ill, and whose sufferings are so intense, as 
 
 48
 
 THE DUCHESS. 
 
 well as so peculiar in character, that her physician, at 
 his wit's end, conceived the idea that soft and gentle 
 music might assuage her agony at least to some extent.' " 
 
 " How singular ! " exclaimed Gerald. " This invalid, 
 whose sufferings they are endeavouring to mitigate in 
 every conceivable way, and to whom your duchess 
 must have been summoned, is Madame la Comtesse de 
 Beaumesnil." 
 
 "The same lady who just sent for Madame Barban- 
 9on ? " inquired the veteran. 
 
 " Yes, monsieur, for I had heard before of this mu- 
 sical remedy resorted to in the hope of assuaging that 
 lady's terrible sufferings." 
 
 " A strange idea," said Olivier, " but one that has not 
 proved entirely futile, I should judge, as the duchess, 
 who is a fine musician, goes to the house of Madame 
 de Beaumesnil every evening. That is the reason I did 
 not see her at either of Madame Herbaut's soire'es. She 
 had just been calling on that lady, probably, when I 
 met her just now. Struck by her regal bearing and 
 her extraordinary beauty, I asked the porter if he knew 
 who she was. ' It was the duchess I'm sure, M. Olivier,' 
 he answered." 
 
 " This is all very interesting and charming, but it is 
 rather too melancholy to suit my taste," said Gerald. 
 "I prefer those pretty and lively girls who grace Ma- 
 dame Herbaut's entertainments. If you don't take me 
 to one, you're an ingrate. Remember that pretty shop- 
 girl in Algiers, who had an equally pretty sister ! " 
 
 " What ! " exclaimed the veteran, " I thought you were 
 talking a moment ago of a pretty Jewess at Oran ! " 
 
 " But, uncle, when one is at Oran one's sweetheart is 
 at Oran. When one is at Algiers, one's sweetheart 
 is there." 
 
 " So you're trying to outdo Don Juan, you naughty 
 boy ! " cried the veteran, evidently much flattered by his 
 nephew's popularity with the fair sex. 
 
 49
 
 PRIDE. 
 
 " But what else could you expect, commander ? " 
 asked Gerald. " It is not a matter of inconstancy, you 
 see, but simply of following one's regiment, that is 
 all. That is the reason Olivier and I were obliged to 
 desert the beauties of Oran for the pretty shop-girls of 
 Algiers." 
 
 " Just as a change of station compelled us to desert 
 the bronze-cheeked maidens of Martinique for the fisher 
 maids of St. Pierre Miquelon," remarked the old sailor, 
 who was becoming rather lively under the influence of 
 the Cyprian wine which had been circulating freely 
 during the conversation. 
 
 " A very sudden change of zone, commander," re- 
 marked Gerald, nudging the veteran with his elbow. 
 "It must have been leaving fire for ice." 
 
 " No, no, you're very much mistaken there, " protested 
 the veteran, vehemently. " I don't know what to make 
 of it, but those fisher maidens, fair as albinos, had the 
 very deuce in them. There was one little roly-poly 
 with white lashes, particularly, whom they called the 
 Whaler " 
 
 " About the temperature of Senegambia, eh, uncle ? " 
 
 " I should say so," ejaculated the veteran. And as 
 he replaced his glass upon the table, he made a clucking 
 sound with his tongue, but it was hard to say whether 
 this significant sound had reference to his recollection of 
 the fair Whaler or to the pleasant flavour of the Cyprian 
 wine. Then suddenly recollecting himself, the worthy 
 man exclaimed : 
 
 " Well, well, what am I thinking of ? It ill becomes 
 an old fellow like me to be talking on such subjects to 
 youths like you ! Go on, talk of your Jewesses and your 
 duchesses as much as you please, boys. It suits your 
 years." 
 
 " Very well, then, I insist that Olivier shall take me to 
 Madame Herbaut's," said the persistent Gerald. 
 
 " See the result of satiety. You go in the most fash- 
 
 50
 
 THE DUCHESS. 
 
 ionable and aristocratic society, and yet envy us our 
 poor little Batignollais entertainments." 
 
 " Fashionable society is not at all amusing," said 
 Gerald. " I frequent it merely to please my mother. 
 To-morrow, for example, will be a particularly trying day 
 to me, for my mother gives an afternoon dance. By the 
 way, why can't you come, Olivier ? " 
 
 " Come where ? " 
 
 " Why, to this dance my mother gives." 
 
 " I ? " 
 
 Yes, you ! Why not ? " 
 
 " I, Olivier Raymond, a private in the hussars, attend 
 a dance given in the Faubourg St. Germain ! " 
 
 " It would be very strange if I could not take my 
 dearest friend to my mother's house merely because he 
 has the honour to be one of the bravest soldiers in the 
 French army. Olivier, you must come. I insist upon it." 
 
 "In jacket and kepi, I suppose," said Olivier, smil- 
 ingly, referring to his poverty, which did not permit him 
 to indulge in citizen's clothing. 
 
 Knowing how this worthy fellow spent the proceeds 
 of his arduous toil, and knowing, too, his extreme sensi- 
 tiveness in money matters, Gerald could only say in 
 reply : 
 
 " True, I did not think of that. It is a pity, for we 
 might have had a very pleasant time together. I could 
 have shown you some of our fashionable beauties, though 
 I feel sure that, so far as young and pretty faces are 
 concerned, Madame Herbaut's entertainments have the 
 advantage." 
 
 " Do you see, uncle, how cleverly he returns to the 
 charge ? " 
 
 The clock in the neighbouring steeple struck eight. 
 
 " Eight o'clock ! " cried Olivier. " The deuce ! My 
 master mason has been waiting for me for an hour. 
 I've got to go, Gerald. I promised to be punctual, an 
 hour late is a good deal. Good night, uncle." 
 
 51
 
 PRIDE. 
 
 "You're going to work half the night, again," re- 
 marked the veteran, casting a meaning look at Gerald. 
 " I shall wait up for you, though." 
 
 " No, no, uncle, go to bed. Tell Madame Barbanc,on 
 to leave the key with the porter, and some matches in 
 the kitchen. I won't wake you, I'll come in quietly." 
 
 " Good-bye, M. Gerald," said the veteran, taking the 
 young duke's hand, and pressing it in a very significant 
 manner, as if to remind him of his promise in regard to 
 Olivier's promotion. 
 
 " Good-bye, commander," said Gerald, returning the 
 pressure, and indicating by a gesture that he read 
 the veteran's thought. " You will permit me to come 
 and see you again, will you not ? " 
 
 " It would give me great pleasure, you may be sure 
 of that, M. Gerald." 
 
 " Yes, commander, for I judge you by myself. 
 Good-bye. Come, Olivier, I will accompany you to the 
 door of your master mason." 
 
 " I shall have the pleasure of your company a quarter 
 of an hour longer, then. Good night, uncle." 
 
 " Good night, my dear boy." 
 
 And Olivier, taking up his bundle of papers and pens, 
 left the house arm in arm with Gerald. At the master 
 mason's door they separated, promising to see each other 
 again at an early day. 
 
 About an hour after Olivier left his uncle, Madame 
 Barbanon was brought back to the Batignolles in 
 Madame de Beaumesnil's carriage. 
 
 The veteran, amazed at the silence of his housekeeper, 
 and at the gloomy expression of her face, addressed her 
 several times in vain, and finally begged her to help 
 herself to the small portion of Cyprian wine that 
 remained. Madame Barban^on took the bottle and 
 started towards the door, then stopped short and crossed 
 her arms with a meditative air, a movement that caused 
 the wine-bottle to fall with a crash upon the floor. 
 
 52
 
 THE DUCHESS. 
 
 " The deuce take you ! " cried the veteran. " Look at 
 the Cyprian wine you've wasted." 
 
 "True, I've broken the bottle," replied the house- 
 keeper, with the air of a person just waking from a 
 dream. " It is not surprising. Since I saw and heard 
 Madame la Comtesse de Beaumesnil, for I have just 
 seen her, and in such a pitiable state, poor woman ! I 
 have been racking my brain to remember something 
 I can not remember, and I know very well that I shall 
 be absolutely good for nothing for a long time." 
 
 " It is a good thing to know this in advance," replied 
 the veteran, with his usual placidity of manner on see- 
 ing Madame Barban^on again relapse into a deeply 
 preoccupied frame of mind. 
 
 53
 
 CHAPTER Y. 
 
 THE LION OP THE BALL. 
 
 ON the day following Olivier Raymond's chance meet- 
 ing with Gerald, the mother of the latter gave a 
 dancing party. 
 
 The Duchesse de Senneterre, both by birth and by 
 marriage, was connected with the oldest and most illus- 
 trious families of France, and though her fortune was 
 insignificant and her house small, she gave every year 
 four or five small but extremely elegant and exclusive 
 dancing receptions, of which she and her two young 
 daughters did the honours with perfect grace. The 
 Due de Senneterre, dead for two years, had held a 
 high office under the Restoration. 
 
 The three windows of the salon where the guests 
 danced opened into a very pretty garden, and the day 
 being superb, many ladies and gentlemen stepped out 
 for a chat or a stroll through the paths bordered 
 with flowering shrubs during the intervals between the 
 dances. 
 
 Four or five men, chancing to meet near a big clump of 
 lilacs, had paused to exchange the airy nothings that 
 generally compose the conversation at such a gathering. 
 
 Among this group were two men that merit atten- 
 tion. One, a man about thirty-five years of age, but 
 already obese, with an extremely pompous, indolent, and 
 supercilious manner and a lack-lustre eye, was the Comte 
 de Mornand, the same man who had been mentioned at 
 Commander Bernard's the evening before, when Olivier 
 
 54
 
 THE LION OF THE BALL. 
 
 and Gerald were comparing their reminiscences of 
 college life. 
 
 M. de Mornand occupied a hereditary seat in the 
 Chamber of Peers. 
 
 The other, an intimate friend of the count, was a man 
 of about the same age, tall, slim, angular, a trifle 
 round-shouldered, and also a little bald, whose flat 
 head, prominent and rather bloodshot eyes imparted an 
 essentially reptilian character to his visage. This was 
 the Baron de Ravil. Though his means of support were 
 problematical in the extreme when compared with his 
 luxurious style of living, the baron was still received in 
 the aristocratic society in which his birth entitled him 
 to a place, but never did any intriguer we use the 
 word in its lowest, most audacious sense display more 
 brazen effrontry or daring impudence. 
 
 " Have you seen the lion of the ball ? " inquired one 
 of the men of the party, addressing M. de Mornand. 
 
 " I have but just arrived, and have no idea to whom 
 you refer," replied the count. 
 
 " Why, the Marquis de Maillefort." 
 
 " That cursed hunchback ! " exclaimed M. de Ravil ; 
 " it is all his fault that this affair seems so unconscion- 
 ably dull. His hideous presence is enough to cast a 
 damper over any festivity." 
 
 " How strange it is that the marquis appears in society 
 for a few weeks, now and then, and then suddenly dis- 
 appears again," remarked another member of the group. 
 
 " I believe he is a manufacturer of counterfeit money 
 and emerges from his seclusion, now and then, to put 
 his spurious coin in circulation," remarked M. de Ravil. 
 " This much is certain incomprehensible as it appears 
 he actually loaned me a thousand franc note, which I 
 shall never return, the other night, at the card-table. 
 And what do you suppose the impertinent creature said 
 as he handed it to me ? * It will afford me so much 
 amusement to dun you for it, baron.' He need have 
 
 55
 
 PRIDE. 
 
 no fears. He will amuse himself in that way a long 
 time." 
 
 " But all jesting aside, this marquis is a very peculiar 
 man," remarked another member of the party. " His 
 mother, the old Marquise de Maillefort, left him a very 
 handsome fortune, but no one can imagine what he does 
 with his money, for he lives very modestly." 
 
 " I used to meet him quite frequently at poor Madame 
 de Beaumesnil's." 
 
 " By the way, do you know they say she is said to be 
 lying at the point of death ? " 
 
 " Madame de Beaumesnil ? " 
 
 " Yes ; she is about to receive the last sacrament. At 
 least that is what they told Madame de Mirecourt, who 
 stopped to inquire for her on her way here." 
 
 " Her case must, indeed, have been incurable, then, for 
 her physician is that famous Doctor Gasterini, who is as 
 great a savant as he is a gourmand, which is certainly 
 saying a good deal." 
 
 " Poor woman ! she is young to die." 
 
 "And what an immense fortune her daughter will 
 have," exclaimed M. de Mornand. " She will be the 
 richest heiress in France, and an orphan besides. What 
 a rare titbit for a fortune-hunter ! " 
 
 As he uttered these words, M. de Mornand's eyes 
 encountered those of his friend Ravil. 
 
 Both started slightly, as if the same idea had suddenly 
 occurred to both of them. With a single look they 
 must have read each other's thoughts. 
 
 " The richest heiress in France ! " 
 
 " And an orphan ! " 
 
 " And an immense landed property besides ! " ex- 
 claimed the three other men in accents of undisguised 
 covetousness. 
 
 After which, one of them, without noticing the inter- 
 change of glances between M. de Mornand and his friend, 
 continued : 
 
 56
 
 THE LION OF THE BALL. 
 
 " And how old is this Mile, de Beaumesnil ? " 
 
 " Not over fifteen," replied M. de Ravil, " and exceed- 
 ingly unprepossessing in appearance, sickly and posi- 
 tively insignificant looking, in fact." 
 
 " Sickly, that is not objectionable, by any means, 
 quite the contrary," said one of the party, reflectively. 
 
 " And homely ?" remarked another, turning to Ravil. 
 " You have seen her, then ? " 
 
 " Not I, but one of my aunts saw the girl at the Con- 
 vent of the Sacred Heart before Beaumesnil took her to 
 Italy by the physician's order." 
 
 " Poor Beaumesnil, to die in Naples from a fall from 
 his horse ! " 
 
 "And you say that Mile, de Beaumesnil is very 
 homely?" he continued, while M. de Mornand seemed 
 to grow more and more thoughtful. 
 
 " Hideous ! I think it more than likely that she's going 
 into a decline, too, from what I hear," responded Ravil, 
 disparagingly ; " for, after Beaumesnil's death, the phy- 
 sician who had accompanied them to Naples declared 
 that he would not be responsible for the result if Mile, 
 de Beaumesnil returned to France. She is a consumptive, 
 I tell you, a hopeless consumptive." 
 
 "A consumptive heiress!" exclaimed another man 
 ecstatically. " Can any one conceive of a more delight- 
 ful combination ! " 
 
 " Ah, yes, I understand," laughed Ravil, " but it is 
 absolutely necessary that the girl should live long 
 enough for a man to marry her, which Mile, de Beau- 
 mesnil is not likely to do. She is doomed. I heard 
 this through M. de la Rochaigue, her nearest relative. 
 And he ought to know, as the property comes to him at 
 her death, if she doesn't marry. Perhaps that accounts 
 for his being so sanguine." 
 
 " What a lucky thing it would be for Madame de la 
 Rochaigue, who is so fond of luxury and society ! " 
 
 " Yes, in other people's houses." 
 
 57
 
 PRIDE. 
 
 " It is very strange, but it seems to me I have heard 
 that Mile, de Beaumesnil strongly resembles her mother, 
 who used to be one of the prettiest women in Paris," 
 remarked another gentleman. 
 
 " This girl is atrociously ugly, I tell you," said M. de 
 Ravil. " In fact, I'm not sure that she isn't deformed as 
 well." 
 
 " Yes," remarked M. de Mornand, awakening from his 
 reverie, " several other persons have said the very same 
 thing about the girl that Ravil does." 
 
 " But why didn't her mother accompany her to 
 Italy?" 
 
 " Because the poor woman had already been attacked 
 by the strange malady to which she is about to succumb, 
 it seems. People say that it was a terrible disappoint- 
 ment to her because she could not follow her daughter 
 to Naples, and that this disappointment has contributed 
 not a little to her present hopeless state." 
 
 " It would seem, then, that Doctor Dupont's musical 
 cure has proved a failure." 
 
 " What musical cure ? " 
 
 "Knowing Madame de Beaumesnil's passionate love 
 of music, the doctor, to mitigate his patient's sufferings 
 and arouse her from her langour, ordered that soft and 
 soothing music should be played or sung to her." 
 
 " Not a bad idea, though revived from the times of 
 Saul and David," commented Ravil. 
 
 " Well, what was the result ? " 
 
 " Madame de Beaumesnil seemed benefited at first, 
 they say, but her malady soon regained the ascendency." 
 
 " I have heard that poor Beaumesnil's sudden death 
 was a terrible shock to her." 
 
 " Bah ! " exclaimed M. de Mornand, with a contemp- 
 tuous shrug of the shoulders, " she never cared a straw 
 for Beaumesnil. She only married him for his mil- 
 lions of millions. Besides, as a young girl she had any 
 number of lovers. In short," continued M. de Mornand, 
 
 58
 
 THE LION OF THE BALL. 
 
 puffing out his cheeks with an air of supercilious dig- 
 nity, " Madame de Beaumesnil is really a woman of no 
 reputation whatever, and, in spite of the enormous for- 
 tune she will leave, no honourable man would ever be 
 willing to marry the daughter of such a mother." 
 
 " Scoundrel ! " exclaimed a voice which seemed to re- 
 spond indignantly to M. de Mornand's last words from 
 behind the clump of lilacs. 
 
 There was a moment of amazed silence ; then M. de 
 Mornand, purple with anger, made a hasty circuit of the 
 clump of shrubbery. He found no one there, however. 
 The path at this place making an abrupt turn, the 
 person who uttered the opprobrious epithet could make 
 his escape with comparative ease. 
 
 " There are no more infamous scoundrels than the 
 persons who insult others without daring to show 
 themselves," cried M. de Mornand, in a loud voice. 
 
 This strange incident had scarcely taken place before 
 the sound of the orchestra drew the promenaders back 
 to the salon. 
 
 M. de Mornand being left alone with Ravil, the latter 
 said to him : 
 
 " Somebody who dared not show himself called you 
 a scoundrel. We had better say no more about it. But 
 did you understand me ? " 
 
 " Perfectly. The same idea suddenly, I might almost 
 say simultaneously, occurred to me, and for an instant 
 I was dazzled even dazed by it." 
 
 " An income of over three millions ! What an in- 
 corruptible minister you will be, eh ? " 
 
 " Hush ! It is enough to turn one's brain." 
 
 The conversation was suddenly interrupted by the 
 arrival of a third party, who, addressing M. de Mornand, 
 said, with the most scrupulous politeness : 
 
 " Monsieur, will you do me the favour to act as my 
 vis-a-vis ? " 
 
 M. de Mornand's surprise was so great that he started 
 
 59
 
 PRIDE. 
 
 back without uttering a word on hearing this request, 
 for the person who had just made it was no other than 
 the Marquis de Maillefort, the singular hunchback, of 
 whom frequent mention has already been made in these 
 pages. 
 
 There was also another feeling that prevented M. de 
 Mornand from immediately replying to this strange 
 proposition, for, in the full, vibrating voice of the 
 speaker, M. de Mornand fancied, for an instant, that 
 he recognised the voice of the unseen person who 
 had called him a scoundrel when he spoke in such 
 disparaging terms of Madame de Beaumesnil. 
 
 The Marquis de Maillefort, pretending not to notice 
 the air of displeased surprise with which M. de Mornand 
 had greeted the proposal, repeated in the same tone of 
 scrupulous politeness: 
 
 " Monsieur, will you do me the favour to act as my 
 vis-a-vis in the next quadrille ? " 
 
 On hearing this request on the part of the deformed 
 man thus reiterated, M. de Mornand, without concealing 
 his desire to laugh, exclaimed : 
 
 " Act as your vis-a-vis, yours, monsieur ? " 
 
 " Yes, monsieur," replied the marquis, with the most 
 innocent air imaginable. 
 
 "But, but what you ask is is permit me to 
 say very remarkable." 
 
 " And very dangerous, my dear marquis," added the 
 Baron de Ravil, with his usual sneer. 
 
 " As for you, baron, I might put a no less offensive 
 and, perhaps, even more dangerous question to you," 
 retorted the marquis, smiling. " When will you return 
 the thousand francs I had the pleasure of loaning to 
 you the other evening ?" 
 
 " You are too inquisitive, marquis." 
 
 " Come, come, baron, don't treat M. de Talleyrand's 
 bon mots as you treat thousand franc notes." 
 
 " What do you mean by that, marquis ? " 
 
 60
 
 THE LION OF THE BALL. 
 
 " I mean that it costs you no more to put one in cir- 
 culation than the other." 
 
 M. de Ravil bit his lip. 
 
 "This explanation is not altogether satisfactory, M. 
 le marquis," he said, coldly. 
 
 " You have an unquestionable right to be very exact- 
 ing in the matter of explanations, baron," retorted the 
 marquis, in the same tone of contemptuous persiflage ; 
 "but you have no right to be indiscreet, as you cer- 
 tainly are at this moment. I had the honour to address 
 M. de Mornand, and you intrude yourself into our con- 
 versation, which is exceedingly annoying to me." 
 
 Then, turning to M. de Mornand, the hunchback con- 
 tinued : 
 
 " You did me the honour, just now, to say that my 
 request that you would act as my vis-a-vis was very 
 remarkable, I believe." 
 
 " Yes, monsieur," replied M. de Mornand, quite gravely 
 this time, for he began to suspect that this singular pro- 
 posal was only a pretext, and the longer he listened 
 to the voice, the more certain he became that it was 
 the same which had styled him a scoundrel. "Yes, 
 monsieur," he continued, with mingled hauteur and 
 assurance, " I did say, and I repeat it, that this request 
 to act as your vis-a-vis was very remarkable on your 
 part." 
 
 " And why, may I ask, if you do not think me too 
 inquisitive ? " 
 
 " Because why because it is it is, I think, very 
 singular that ' 
 
 Then as M. de Mornand did not finish the sentence : 
 
 " I have a rather peculiar habit, monsieur," the mar- 
 quis said, lightly. 
 
 " What is it, monsieur ? " 
 
 " Having the misfortune to be a hunchback and con- 
 sequently an object of ridicule, I have reserved for 
 myself the exclusive right to ridicule my deformity, 
 
 61
 
 PRIDE. 
 
 and as I flatter myself I do that to the satisfaction of 
 people in general excuse my conceit, monsieur, I beg 
 I do not permit any one to do badly what I do so well 
 myself." 
 
 " Monsieur ! " exclaimed M. de Mornand, vehemently. 
 
 " Permit me to give you an example," continued the 
 marquis in the same airy tone, " I just asked you to do 
 me the favour to act as my vis-a-vis. Ah, well, instead 
 of answering, 'Yes, monsieur,' or 'No, monsieur,' in a 
 polite manner, you respond in a voice choked with laugh- 
 ter, * Your request for me to act as your vis-a-vis is very 
 remarkable.' And when I ask you to finish the sen- 
 tence, you hesitate and stammer and say nothing." 
 
 " But, monsieur " 
 
 "But, monsieur," hastily exclaimed the hunchback, 
 interrupting his companion afresh ; " if, instead of being 
 polite, you are disposed to enjoy yourself at my expense, 
 you ought to say something decidedly impertinent, as, 
 for example : ' M. de Maillefort, I have a horror of de- 
 formities and really cannot bear the idea of seeing you 
 dance ; ' or ' Really, M. de Maillefort, I have too much 
 pride to show myself in the back to back figure with 
 you.' So you see, my dear M. de Mornand," continued 
 the hunchback, with increasing jovialness, "that, as I 
 can ridicule myself better than any one else can, I am 
 perfectly right not to allow any one else to do clumsily 
 what I can do so admirably myself." 
 
 "You say that you will not allow," began M. de 
 Mornand, impatiently 
 
 " Come, come, Mornand, this is all nonsense," exclaimed 
 Ravil. "And, you, marquis, are much too sensible a 
 man " 
 
 " That is not the question," replied Mornand, hotly. 
 " This gentleman says he will not allow " 
 
 " Any person to ridicule me," interrupted the marquis. 
 " No, I will not tolerate it for a single instant ; I repeat 
 it." 
 
 62
 
 THE LION OF THE BALL. 
 
 "But Mornand certainly never thought for a single 
 instant of ridiculing you, I am sure, marquis," cried 
 Ravil. 
 
 " Is that true, baron ? " 
 
 " Yes, certainly, certainly." 
 
 " Then the gentleman will do me the favour to explain 
 what he meant by his reply." 
 
 " That is very simple. I will volunteer " 
 
 " My dear Ravil," interposed M. de Mornand, firmly, 
 " you are going entirely too far. As M. de Maillefort 
 descends to sarcasm and threats, I deem it proper to 
 refuse him any explanation whatever, and M. de Maille- 
 fort is at perfect liberty to impute any meaning he 
 pleases to my words." 
 
 " Impute any meaning to your words ? " exclaimed the 
 hunchback, laughing. "Really, I could not take any 
 such task as that upon myself. That is the business of 
 your honourable colleagues in the Chamber of Peers 
 when you treat them to one of those superb speeches 
 which you alone have the ability to understand " 
 
 " Let us put an end to this," exclaimed M. de Mor- 
 nand, exasperated beyond endurance. " Consider my 
 words as insulting as any words could possibly be, 
 monsieur." 
 
 " You are mad," cried Ravil. " All this is, or will be, 
 supremely ridiculous if taken seriously." 
 
 " You are right, my poor baron," said the marquis, 
 with a contrite air ; " it will become supremely ridiculous 
 as you say, but, monsieur, see what a good fellow I am, 
 I will be content with the following apology made ver- 
 bally by M. de Mornand in the presence of three or four 
 witnesses of my own choosing : ' M. le Marquis de 
 Maillefort, I very humbly and contritely ask your 
 pardon for having dared " 
 
 "Enough, monsieur!" exclaimed M. de Mornand. 
 " You must believe me either a coward or an egregious 
 fool." 
 
 63
 
 PRIDE 
 
 " So you refuse the reparation I demand ? " asked the 
 marquis ; " you refuse it, absolutely ? " 
 
 " Absolutely, monsieur, absolutely." 
 
 " Then I feel obliged to terminate this interview as I 
 began it, by again having the honour to say to you : 
 ' Will you do me the favour to act as my vis-a-vis ? ' " 
 
 " What, monsieur, as your vis-a-vis ? " repeated. M. de 
 Mornand, in profound astonishment. 
 
 " My vis-a-vis in a danse a deux" added the hunch- 
 back, with a meaning gesture. " Do you understand 
 me?" 
 
 "A duel with you?" cried M. de Mornand, who, 
 in his first transport of anger, had forgotten the high 
 social position of the hunchback, and the ridicule which 
 would be heaped upon him if he engaged in a personal 
 encounter with such an adversary. " A duel with you, 
 monsieur ? Really " 
 
 "Are you going to plead as an excuse that such a 
 position would be too too remarkable or too dan- 
 gerous, as your friend Ravil would say ? " 
 
 " No, monsieur, I do not consider it too dangerous 
 but too ridiculous." 
 
 " Yes, frightfully ridiculous to you, as I remarked to 
 your honest friend here a moment ago." 
 
 " Really, gentlemen," exclaimed Ravil, " I will never 
 permit " 
 
 Then seeing Gerald de Senneterre passing through the 
 garden, he added : 
 
 " Here comes the Due de Senneterre, the son of the 
 house. I shall ask him to assist me in putting a stop to 
 this foolish quarrel." 
 
 "Yes, gentlemen, the duke's coming is most oppor- 
 tune," replied the hunchback. And turning towards the 
 young man, he called out : 
 
 " Gerald, my friend, we need your assistance." 
 
 " What is the matter, marquis ? " asked Gerald, in a 
 manner that was both deferential and affectionate. 
 
 64
 
 THE LION OF THE BALL. 
 
 " Have you any cigars ? " 
 
 " Plenty of them, marquis." 
 
 " Well, my dear Gerald, these gentlemen and I are 
 dying to smoke. Won't you take us up to your rooms ? " 
 
 " Certainly," replied Gerald, gaily. " I have no en- 
 gagement for this dance, so I have a quarter of an hour 
 at my disposal." 
 
 " That is all the time we shall need," said the hunch- 
 back, with a meaning look at Mornand and Ravil. 
 " Come, gentlemen," he added, taking Gerald's arm 
 and walking on ahead of the future minister and his 
 friend. 
 
 A minute or two afterwards the four gentlemen 
 reached Gerald's apartments, which consisted of three 
 rooms, one, extremely large, on the third floor of 
 the house. 
 
 The young duke having politely begged Messieurs de 
 Mornand and de Ravil to pass in first, M. de Maillefort, 
 locking the door and slipping the key in his pocket, 
 remarked to Gerald : 
 
 " Allow me, my friend:" 
 
 " But why do you lock the door, M. le marquis," 
 asked Gerald, -greatly surprised. 
 
 " So we shall not be disturbed," answered the hunch- 
 back, " but be able to smoke in peace." 
 
 " You are certainly a very cautious man, M. le mar- 
 quis," said Gerald, laughing, as he ushered the party 
 into the furthermost room, which, being much larger 
 than the others, served both as a sitting-room and study 
 for the young duke. 
 
 Upon one of the panels in this room hung a large 
 shield covered with crimson velvet, on which quite a 
 number of weapons were displayed. 
 
 65
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 THE DUEL. 
 
 ON seeing the Marquis de Maillefort lock the door 
 of the apartment, M. de Mornand partially divined the 
 hunchback's intentions, and any lingering doubts he may 
 have felt were promptly dispelled when the marquis 
 untied his cravat and hastily divested himself of both 
 coat and waistcoat, to the great astonishment of Gerald, 
 who had just turned to approach him with an open box 
 of cigars in his hand. 
 
 Almost at the same instant, the marquis, pointing to 
 two swords hanging with the other weapons on the shield, 
 said to the young man : 
 
 " My dear Gerald, have the goodness to measure those 
 swords with M. de Ravil, and give the longest to my 
 adversary if there is any difference in them. You know 
 the proverb, ' Hunchbacks have long arms.' " 
 
 " What ! " exclaimed Gerald, in profound astonish- 
 ment, " those swords ? " 
 
 " Certainly, my friend. This is the situation in two 
 words. That gentleman (pointing to Mornand) has 
 just been extremely impertinent to me. He refused 
 to apologise, and the time has now passed when I 
 would accept any apology, even if he would consent to 
 make it. There is consequently nothing for us to do but 
 fight. You will act as my second ; M. de Ravil will act 
 in the same capacity for M. de Mornand, and we will 
 settle our differences here and now." 
 
 Then, turning to his antagonist, the marquis added :
 
 THE DUEL. 
 
 " Come, monsieur, off with your coat. Gerald has 
 only a quarter of an hour to spare, and we must make 
 the most of it." 
 
 " What a pity Olivier could not witness this scene ! " 
 thought Gerald, who had recovered from his astonish- 
 ment, and who now began to regard the adventure as 
 extremely piquant, the more so as he had very little 
 sympathy for Messieurs Mornand and Ravil, and a very 
 warm affection for the marquis. 
 
 But though the hunchback had made this open decla- 
 ration of war, M. de Ravil turned to Gerald, and said, in 
 a tone of profound conviction : 
 
 " You must feel that such a duel as this is entirely 
 out of the question, M. le due ? " 
 
 " And why, monsieur ? " inquired Gerald, dryly. 
 
 "Thanks, Gerald," exclaimed the marquis. "The 
 swords, my friend, quick, the swords ! " 
 
 " But think of permitting such an encounter in your 
 mother's house ! It must not be, M. le due. Think of 
 it, a duel, in a room in your house, and for the most 
 trivial cause," insisted Ravil, as he saw Gerald walk to 
 the panel and take down the swords. 
 
 " I consider myself the sole judge of the propriety 
 of what occurs in my apartments," retorted Gerald. 
 " There are numerous instances of similar duels, are 
 there not, M. de Mornand?" 
 
 " Any place is suitable for avenging an affront, M. le 
 due," was the prompt and angry reply. 
 
 " Bravo ! the Cid never made a better retort ! " ex- 
 claimed the hunchback. " Come, my dear M. de Mor- 
 nand, off with your coat ! It is hardly fair that I, who 
 am not exactly modelled after the Apollo Belvedere, 
 should be the first to strip." 
 
 M. de Mornand, at his wit's end, pulled off his coat. 
 
 " I absolutely refuse to act as second in such a duel," 
 shouted M. de Ravil. 
 
 "You can do as you please about that," responded 
 
 67
 
 PRIDE. 
 
 the hunchback. " I have the key of the door in my 
 pocket, but you can look out of the window, or beat a 
 tattoo upon the pane, if you prefer. That little act of 
 bravado might have a good effect on M. de Mornand, 
 perhaps." 
 
 " De Ravil, measure the swords, I beg of you," cried 
 the other principal in the affair. 
 
 "You insist?" 
 
 Ido." 
 
 " So be it, but you are mad." 
 
 Then, turning to Gerald, he added, " You are taking 
 a great responsibility upon yourself, monsieur." 
 
 " That will do, monsieur," replied Gerald, coldly. 
 
 The proverb the marquis had quoted seemed a true 
 one, for, when that gentleman rolled his shirt-sleeve up 
 above his elbow, there was disclosed to view a long, thin, 
 but sinewy arm, upon which the muscles stood out like 
 whipcords, while his opponent's arm was plump and 
 soft. 
 
 The outcome of the encounter was apparent from the 
 manner in which the antagonists fell into position, and 
 in which they crossed blades, when Gerald, after having 
 exchanged glances with Ravil, gave the signal for the 
 combat to begin. 
 
 Not that M. de Mornand evinced any signs of coward- 
 ice ! On the contrary, he manifested the courage which 
 any well-bred man is almost sure to display, but he was 
 unmistakably nervous, and, though he showed a fair 
 knowledge of fencing, his play was characterised by 
 excessive prudence. He held himself out of reach as 
 much as possible, and always upon the defensive, parry- 
 ing his antagonist's thrusts skilfully enough, but never 
 attacking. 
 
 For a single instant Ravil, and even Gerald, were 
 terrified at the expression of ferocious hatred that over- 
 spread the features of the marquis when he confronted 
 his adversary, but, suddenly recovering himself, he be- 
 
 68
 
 "RAN HIS BLADE THROUGH HIS ANTAGONISTS RIGHT 
 ARM."
 
 THE DUEL. 
 
 came the same gay, mocking cynic as at the beginning 
 of this strange scene, and, as the look of sullen rage 
 he had concentrated upon M. de Mornand softened, his 
 thrusts became less violent and murderous, and, at last, 
 wishing doubtless to end the affair, he made a feint. M. 
 de Mornand responded ingenuously, whereupon his op- 
 ponent, with a quick, upward thrust, ran his blade 
 through his antagonist's right arm. 
 
 At the sight of blood, Gerald and Ravil both sprang 
 forward, exclaiming : 
 
 " Enough, gentlemen, enough ! " 
 
 Both men lowered their swords on hearing this ex- 
 clamation, and the marquis said, in a clear voice : 
 
 " I declare myself satisfied ; I will even humbly beg 
 your pardon for being a hunchback, M. de Mornand. 
 It is the only excuse I can reasonably offer you." 
 
 " It is sufficient, monsieur," said M. de Mornand, with 
 a bitter smile, while Gerald and De Ravil bound up the 
 wounded arm with the aid of a handkerchief. 
 
 This done, the two men re-dressed themselves, after 
 which M. de Maillefort said to M. de Mornand : 
 
 " Will you grant me the favour of a moment's conver- 
 sation in another room ? " 
 
 " I am at your service." 
 
 " Will you permit it, Gerald ?" 
 
 " Certainly," r-eplied the young duke. 
 
 The two gentlemen having stepped into Gerald's bed- 
 room, the hunchback said, in his usual mocking way : 
 
 " Though it may be in very poor taste to speak of one's 
 generosity, my dear sir, I am obliged to admit that for a 
 minute or two I felt strongly inclined to kill you, and 
 that it would have been a very easy matter for me to 
 do it." 
 
 " You should have availed yourself of the opportunity, 
 monsieur." 
 
 But I reflected " 
 
 " And with what object ? " 
 
 69
 
 PRIDE. 
 
 " You will excuse me, I am sure, for not opening my 
 "whole heart to you, but permit me to beg that you will 
 consider the slight wound you have just received merely 
 an aid to memory." 
 
 " I do not understand you in the least, monsieur." 
 
 " You know, of course, that one often places a bit of 
 paper in one's snuff-box, or ties a knot in the corner 
 of one's handkerchief, to remind one of a rendezvous or 
 a promise." 
 
 " Yes, monsieur ; and what of it, may I ask ? " 
 
 " I am strongly in hopes that the slight wound which 
 I have just given you in the arm will serve as such an 
 effectual reminder that the date of this little episode will 
 never be effaced from your memory." 
 
 f And why are you so desirous that this date should 
 be indelibly engraved upon my memory ? " 
 
 " The explanation is very simple. I wish to fix the 
 date in your memory in an ineffaceable manner, be- 
 cause it is quite possible that I shall some time have 
 occasion to remind you of all you have said this after- 
 noon." 
 
 " Remind me of all I have said this afternoon ? " 
 
 " Yes, monsieur, and in the presence of irrefutable 
 witnesses that I shall summon in case of need." 
 
 " I understand you less and less, monsieur." 
 
 " I see no particular advantage in your understanding 
 me any better just at this time, my dear sir, so you 
 must permit me to take leave of you, and go and bid my 
 friend Gerald good-bye." 
 
 It is easy to comprehend that the real cause of M. de 
 Maillefort's challenge to M. de Mornand was the insulting 
 manner in which that gentleman had spoken of Madame 
 de Beaumesnil, for the latter's suspicions were correct, 
 and it was the hunchback who, unseen, had cried, 
 " Scoundrel ! " on hearing M. de Mornand's coarse 
 words. 
 
 But why had M. de Maillefort, who was usually so 
 
 70
 
 THE DUEL. 
 
 frank and outspoken, taken this roundabout way to 
 secure a pretext for avenging the insult offered to Ma- 
 dame de Beaumesnil ? And what could be his object 
 in wishing to remind M. de Mornand of this special day, 
 and in perhaps calling him to account for all he had just 
 said in the presence of reliable witnesses ? 
 
 These questions will be satisfactorily answered as 
 the story proceeds. 
 
 The Marquis de Maillefort had just bidden Gerald 
 good-bye, when one of the servants brought the young 
 duke the following letter, written by Olivier that same 
 morning. 
 
 "Mr GOOD GERALD: 'Man proposes and God dis- 
 poses,' and last night, Providence, in the shape of my 
 worthy master mason, decided that I must absent myself 
 from Paris for a fortnight or three weeks, and I am truly 
 sorry, for there can be no repetition of our pleasant 
 dinner-party of yesterday for a long time to come. 
 
 " The fact is, my master mason is a very poor arithme- 
 tician, and he has become so mixed up in his specifica- 
 tions for some work he is to do in a chateau near 
 Luzarches that it is impossible for me to make head or 
 tail of his figures. For me to be able to cast any light 
 on this portentous gloom, I shall be obliged to go through 
 a host of measurements which I shjjl have to take myself, 
 if I would avoid more puzzles, and this will necessitate a 
 prolonged absence, I fear. I never told you, did I? 
 that my master mason was formerly a sergeant in the 
 engineer corps, a brave, honest, plain, kind-hearted man, 
 and you know that life with people of that sort is easy 
 and pleasant. One of my chief reasons, too, for going 
 to his assistance is that, so far as I am able to judge, he 
 is cheating himself badly, such a rare thing in these 
 days that I shall not be sorry to verify the fact. 
 
 " I leave my uncle what a heart of gold he has, 
 hasn't he ? with no little anxiety. Ever since Madame 
 
 71
 
 PRIDE. 
 
 Barbangon was brought back to us in Madame de Beau- 
 mesnil's superb equipage she has been in a truly alarm- 
 ing frame of mind, and I tremble for my uncle's 
 digestion. She has not so much as mentioned Bona- 
 parte's name, and seems to be in a brown study all the 
 time, pauses thoughtfully in the garden, and every 
 now and then stands stock-still in her kitchen with 
 eyes fixed upon vacancy. She gave us sour milk this 
 morning, and the eggs were like leather. So take 
 heed, my dear Gerald, if you should happen to drop in 
 at meal-time. It is evident, too, that Madame Barban- 
 c,on is burning with a desire to be questioned concerning 
 the particulars of her recent visit, but very naturally my 
 uncle and I avoid the subject, as there is really something 
 strange and even incomprehensible about the affair. 
 
 " If you have time, drop in and see my uncle. It 
 would please him very much, for he will miss me sadly, 
 I fear, and he has taken a great fancy to you. What 
 ineffable kindness of heart and unswerving uprightness 
 of soul are concealed beneath his plain exterior ! Ah, my 
 dear Gerald, I have never craved wealth for myself, but 
 I tremble to think that, at his age and with his infirmi- 
 ties, my uncle will have more and more difficulty in 
 living on his modest pay, in spite of all the little priva- 
 tions he endures so courageously. And if he should 
 become really ill, for two of his wounds reopen fre- 
 quently, sickness is so hard upon the poor ? Ah, Gerald, 
 the thought is a cruel one to me. 
 
 " Forgive me, my friend and brother. I began this 
 letter cheerfully, and it has become really funereal 
 in tone= Good-bye, Gerald, good-bye. Write me at 
 Luzarches. 
 
 " Yours devotedly, 
 
 "OLIVIER RAYMOND." 
 
 72
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 THE PRETTY MUSICIAN. 
 
 ABOUT seven o'clock on the evening of the same day 
 on which M. de Maillefort's duel took place, and just as 
 the sun was beginning to vanish from sight in a bank of 
 dark clouds that indicated a stormy night, for occa- 
 sional big drops of rain were already falling, a young 
 girl was crossing the Place de la Concorde, in the direc- 
 tion of the Faubourg Ste. Honore". 
 
 This girl carried under her left arm two large music 
 books whose shabby bindings attested to long and faithful 
 service ; in her right hand she held a small umbrella. 
 Her attire, which was modest in the extreme, consisted 
 of a plain black silk dress with a small mantle of the 
 same material, and, though the spring was already far 
 advanced, she wore on her head a gray felt hat tied 
 under the chin jvith broad ribbons of the same quiet 
 hue. A few soft, curling tresses of golden hair, which 
 the wind had loosened from their confinement, caressed 
 her low, broad forehead, and made a lovely frame for 
 her sweet, youthful face, which wore an expression of 
 profound sadness, but which was also instinct with 
 refinement, modesty, and quiet dignity. This same 
 natural dignity manifested itself in the thoughtful and 
 rather proud expression of the girl's large blue eyes. 
 Her bearing was graceful and distinguished, and though 
 her mantle concealed her figure, one instinctively felt 
 that it was not only lithe, but perfect in contour, for her 
 
 73
 
 PRIDE. 
 
 garments were worn with such an air of distinction that 
 one forgot their shabbiness. 
 
 As she lifted her dress slightly in crossing a gutter, a 
 pretty foot, clad in a neat, well-fitting, though rather 
 thick-soled shoe, was disclosed to view, and one also 
 caught a glimpse of a petticoat of dazzling whiteness, 
 edged with a narrow lace-trimmed ruffle. 
 
 At the corner of the Rue des Champs Elyse'es, a 
 beggar woman, with a child in her arms, addressed 
 a few words to her in an imploring voice, whereupon 
 the girl paused, and after a moment's embarrassment, 
 for having both hands occupied, one with her music 
 books and the other with her umbrella, she could not 
 get at her pocket, she solved the difficulty by confiding 
 the music books temporarily to the poor woman's care, 
 and transferring her umbrella to her other hand. This 
 done, the girl drew out her purse, which contained barely 
 four francs in small change, and, taking from it a two 
 sous piece, said hurriedly, but in tones of entrancing 
 sweetness : 
 
 "Forgive me, good mother, forgive me for being 
 unable to offer you more." 
 
 Then, with a compassionate glance at the pale face of 
 the infant which the woman was pressing to her breast, 
 she added : 
 
 " Poor little thing ! May God preserve it to you ! " 
 Then resuming possession of her music books, and cast- 
 ing another glance of tender commiseration on the poor 
 creatures, she continued on her way down the Champs 
 Elyse'es. 
 
 We have dwelt upon the apparently trivial details of 
 this act of charity, merely because they seem to us so 
 significant. The gift, though trifling in value, had not 
 been given haughtily or thoughtlessly ; nor was the 
 young girl content with dropping a bit of money into 
 the outstretched hand. There was also another circum- 
 stance which, though trivial, was highly significant: 
 
 74
 
 THE PRETTY MUSICIAN. 
 
 the young girl had removed her glove before proffering 
 her alms as she would have done before touching the 
 hand of a friend and equal. 
 
 It so happened that M. de Ravil, who had just es- 
 corted his wounded friend to his home on the Rue de 
 Madeleine, met the young girl on the pavement of the 
 Rue des Champs Elyse'es, and, struck by her beauty and 
 by the distinguished bearing which contrasted so strongly 
 with the excessive plainness of her attire, he paused a 
 moment directly in front of her and eyed her cynically, 
 then, as she walked quickly on, he turned and followed 
 her. 
 
 As she turned into the Rue de 1' Arcade, a street little 
 frequented at that hour of the day, he quickened his 
 pace, and, overtaking the fair unknown, said, insolently : 
 
 " Mademoiselle gives music lessons, I judge ? "Will 
 she be kind enough to come and give me one at my 
 house ?" 
 
 As he spoke he laid his hand upon the arm of the 
 girl, who turned quickly with a faint cry ; then, though 
 her cheeks were crimson with terror and emotion, she 
 cast such a look of withering scorn on Ravil that, in 
 spite of his natural impudence, his eyes fell, and bowing 
 low before the unknown with an air of ironical deference, 
 he said: 
 
 " Pardon me, madame la princesse, I was mistaken in 
 the person." 
 
 The girl continued on her way, forcing herself to 
 walk quietly in spite of her painful anxiety, for the 
 house to which she going was only a short distance off 
 now. 
 
 " All the same, I intend to follow her and see who 
 this shabbily dressed girl who gives herself the airs of a 
 duchess is," Ravil said to himself. 
 
 The comparison was an eminently just one, though he 
 did not know it, for Herminie that was the girl's 
 name ; in fact, being a foundling, she had no other 
 
 75
 
 PRIDE. 
 
 for Herminie was indeed a duchess, if one means by 
 that word a charming combination of beauty, grace, and 
 natural refinement, accompanied by that indomitable 
 pride which is inherent in every fastidious and sensitive 
 nature. 
 
 It has been truly said that many duchesses, both, as 
 regards appearance and instincts, were born lorettes ; 
 while, on the other hand, many poor creatures of the 
 most obscure origin were born duchesses. 
 
 Herminie herself was certainly a living example of 
 the truth of this assertion, for the friends she had 
 made in her humble r<51e of singing and piano teacher 
 always called her the duchess, a few from jealousy, 
 for even the most generous and unassuming of people 
 have their detractors, others, on the contrary, because 
 the term best expressed the impression Herminie's man- 
 ner and appearance made upon them. It is hardly nec- 
 essary to say that the young lady in question was no other 
 than the duchess of whom Olivier had made frequent 
 mention during the dinner at Commander Bernard's 
 house. 
 
 Herminie, still closely followed by Ravil, soon left the 
 Rue de 1'Arcade for the Rue d'Anjou, where she entered 
 an imposing mansion, thus escaping the annoying pursuit 
 of that cynical personage. 
 
 " How strange ! " he exclaimed, pausing a few yards 
 off. " Why the devil is that girl going into the H6tel 
 de Beaumesnil with her music books under her arm. 
 She certainly cannot live there." 
 
 Then, after a moment's reflection, he added, " But 
 now I think of it, this must be the female David who is 
 trying to assuage Madame de Beaumesnil's sufferings 
 by the charm of her music. That lady might well be 
 likened to good King Saul by reason of her great 
 wealth, which will all go to that young girl in whom my 
 friend Mornand already feels such an interest. As for 
 me, that pretty musician who has just entered the home 
 
 76
 
 THE PRETTY MUSICIAN. 
 
 of the countess suits my fancy. I mean to wait until she 
 comes out, for I must find out where she lives." 
 
 The expression of melancholy on Herminie's charming 
 face deepened as she crossed the threshold, and, passing 
 the porter without speaking, as any member of the 
 household might have done, entered the magnificent hall 
 of this sumptuous abode. 
 
 It was still daylight, but the entire lower floor was 
 brilliantly lighted. As she noted this fact, her surprise 
 changed to anguish, which increased when she saw none 
 of the footmen who were usually in attendance. 
 
 A profound stillness pervaded the mansion as the 
 young girl, with her heart throbbing almost to bursting, 
 mounted the handsome stairway to a broad landing, 
 which commanded a view of a long line of large and 
 magnificently furnished apartments. 
 
 These rooms, too, were brilliantly lighted but also 
 deserted, and the pale light of the candles, contending 
 with the glowing rays of the setting sun, produced a 
 very strange and most unnatural effect. 
 
 Herminie, unable to account for the poignant anxiety 
 to which she was a prey, hurried breathlessly on through 
 several rooms, then paused suddenly. 
 
 It seemed to her that she could hear stifled sobs in 
 the distance. 
 
 At last she reached a door leading; into a long picture- 
 gallery, and at the 1 farther end of this gallery Herminie 
 saw all the inmates of the mansion kneeling just outside 
 the threshold of an open door. 
 
 A terrible presentiment seized the young girl. When 
 she left Madame de Beaumesnil the evening before, that 
 lady was alarmingly, though not hopelessly ill ; but now, 
 these lights, this lugubrious silence, broken only by 
 smothered sobs, indicated beyond a doubt that Madame 
 de Beaumesnil was receiving the last sacrament. 
 
 The young girl, overcome with grief and terror, felt 
 that her strength was deserting her, and instinctively 
 
 77
 
 PRIDE. 
 
 clutched at one of the consoles for support ; then, en- 
 deavouring to conceal her emotion and her tears, again 
 hastened on with tottering steps towards the group of 
 servants in the open doorway of Madame de Beaumesnil's 
 chamber, and knelt there in the midst of them. 
 
 78
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 THE UNHAPPY SECRET. 
 
 THROUGH the open doorway before which Herminie 
 had just knelt, she could see by the wan light of an 
 alabaster lamp Madame de Beaumesnil, a woman only 
 about thirty-eight years of age, but frightfully pale and 
 emaciated. The countess, who was sitting up in bed, 
 supported by pillows, had her hands clasped devoutly. 
 Her features, once of rare beauty, were drawn and 
 haggard, her large eyes, formerly of a clear, bright 
 blue, had lost their lustre, though they were riveted 
 with mingled anxiety and anguish upon the face of 
 Abb6 Ledoux, her parish priest, who had just admin- 
 istered the last sacrament. 
 
 A minute before Herminie's arrival, Madame de Beau- 
 mesnil, lowering her voice still mope, though weakness 
 and suffering had already reduced it to little more than 
 a faint whisper, had said to the priest : 
 
 " Ah, my father, forgive me, but even at this solemn 
 hour I cannot help thinking with even more bitterness 
 of heart of that poor child, my other daughter, the 
 unhappy fruit of a sin which has burdened my life with 
 the most poignant remorse." 
 
 " Hush, madame," replied the priest, who, as he cast 
 a furtive glance at the kneeling servants, had just seen 
 Herminie take her place in their midst ; " hush, madame, 
 she is here." 
 
 "She is?" 
 
 79
 
 PRIDE. 
 
 " Yes, she came in a moment ago, and is now kneeling 
 with your people." 
 
 As he spoke, the priest turned and walked towards the 
 door to close it, after having first intimated by a gesture 
 that the sad ceremony was over. 
 
 " I remember now that yesterday when Herminie 
 left me I begged her to return to-day at this very 
 hour. The physician was right, the angelic voice of 
 the dear child, her tender melodies, have often assuaged 
 my sufferings." 
 
 " Take care, madame. Be more prudent, I beg of 
 you," pleaded the priest, alone now with the invalid. 
 
 " Oh, I am. My daughter suspects nothing," answered 
 Madame de Beaumesnil, with a bitter smile. 
 
 " That is quite probable," said the priest, " for it was 
 only chance, or, rather, the inscrutable will of Provi- 
 dence, that brought this young woman to your notice 
 a short time ago. Doubtless it is the Saviour's will that 
 you should be subjected to a still harder test." 
 
 " Hard, indeed, my father, since I shall be obliged to 
 depart from this life without ever having said * my 
 daughter ' to this unfortunate girl. Alas ! I shall carry 
 my wretched secret with me to the grave." 
 
 " Your vow imposes this sacrifice upon you, madame. 
 It is a sacred obligation," said the priest, severely. " To 
 break your vow, to thus perjure yourself, would be sac- 
 rilege." 
 
 " I have never thought of perjuring myself, my father," 
 replied Madame de Beaumesnil, despondently ; " but God 
 is punishing me cruelly. I am dying, and yet I am 
 forced to treat as a stranger my own child, who is 
 there only a few feet from me, kneeling among my 
 people, and who must never know that I am her 
 mother." 
 
 " Your sin was great, madame. The expiation must 
 be correspondingly great." 
 
 " But how long it has lasted for me, my father. 
 
 80
 
 THE UNHAPPY SECRET. 
 
 Faithful to my vow, I never even tried to discover 
 what had become of my unfortunate child. Alas ! but 
 for the chance which brought her to my notice a few 
 days ago, I should have died without having seen her 
 for seventeen years." 
 
 " These thoughts are very sinful, my daughter," said 
 the priest, sternly. " They caused you to take a most 
 imprudent step yesterday." 
 
 " Have no fears, my father. It is impossible that the 
 woman I sent for yesterday, openly, in order to avert 
 any suspicion, should suspect my motive in asking for 
 information which she alone could give." 
 
 " And this information ? " 
 
 " Confirmed as I anticipated in the most irrefu- 
 table manner what I already knew that Herminie 
 is my daughter." 
 
 " But wny do you feel so sure of this woman's dis- 
 cretion ? " 
 
 " Because she lost all trace of my daughter after their 
 separation sixteen years ago." 
 
 " But are you sure this woman did not recognise 
 you ? " 
 
 " I confessed to you, my father, that I had a mask on 
 my face when I brought Herminie ipto the world with 
 this woman's aid, and yesterday, in my interview with 
 her, I found it easy to convince her that the mother 
 of the child I was inquiring about had been dead for 
 several years." 
 
 " It is necessary that I should grant you absolution 
 for this act of deception," answered Abb6 Ledoux, with 
 great severity. " You can see now the fatal consequences 
 of your criminal solicitude for a person who, after your 
 vow, should always have remained a stranger to you." 
 
 " Ah, that oath which remorse and gratitude for the 
 most generous forgiveness extorted from me ! I have 
 often cursed it, but I have always kept it, my 
 father." 
 
 81
 
 PRIDE. 
 
 " And yet, my sister, even at such an hour as this, 
 your every thought is given to that young girl." 
 
 " No, not my every thought, my father, for I have 
 another child. But alas ! I cannot prevent my heart 
 from throbbing faster at the approach of Herminie, who 
 is also my daughter. Can I prevent my heart from 
 going out to her ? I may have courage to control my 
 lips, to guard my eyes, and to conceal my feelings 
 when Herminie is with me, but I cannot prevent myself 
 from feeling a mother's tenderness for her." 
 
 " Then you must forbid the girl the house," said the 
 priest, sternly. " You can easily invent a plausible 
 pretext for that, I am sure. Thank her for her services, 
 and " 
 
 " No, no, I should never have the courage to do that," 
 said the countess, quickly. " Is it not hard enough for 
 me that my other daughter, whose affection would have 
 been so consoling in this trying hour, is in a foreign 
 land, mourning the loss of the father of whom she was 
 so suddenly bereft ? And who knows, perhaps Ernestine, 
 too, is dying as I am. Poor child ! She was so weak 
 and frail when she went away ! Oh, was there ever a 
 mother as much to be pitied as I am ? " 
 
 And two burning tears fell from Madame de Beau- 
 mesnil's eyes. 
 
 " Calm yourself, my sister," said the abbe", soothingly ; 
 " do not grieve so. Put your trust in Heaven. Our 
 Saviour's mercy is great. He has sustained you through 
 this solemn ceremony, which was, as I told you, merely 
 a precaution, for, God be praised ! your condition, though 
 alarming, is by no means hopeless." 
 
 Madame de Beaumesnil shook her head sadly, as she 
 replied : 
 
 " I am growing weaker fast, my father, but now that 
 my last duties are performed I feel much calmer. Ah, 
 if I did not have my children to think of, I could die in 
 peace." 
 
 82
 
 THE UNHAPPY SECRET. 
 
 " I understand you, my sister," said the priest, sooth- 
 ingly. Then watching Madame de Beaumesnil's face 
 closely all the while, he continued : 
 
 " I understand you, my sister. The future of your 
 child, your legitimate child, I cannot and must not 
 speak of the other, her future excites your liveliest 
 apprehensions and you are right an orphan and 
 so young, poor child ! " 
 
 " Alas ! yes, a mother's place can never be filled." 
 
 " Then why do you hesitate, my sister ? " said the abbe*, 
 slowly and impressively, " why do you hesitate to assure 
 this beloved daughter's future happiness? Why have 
 you never permitted me though I have long desired 
 the favour to introduce to you that good and devout 
 young man, that model of wisdom and virtue, of whom 
 I have so often spoken. Your mother's heart would 
 long since have appreciated this paragon of Christian 
 virtues ; and sure, in advance, of your daughter's obedi- 
 ence to your last wishes, you could have recommended 
 him to her by a few lines, which I myself would have 
 delivered to the poor child. You could easily have 
 advised her to take for her husband M. Celestin de 
 Macreuse. Your daughter would then be sure of a most 
 estimable and devout husband, for " 
 
 "My father," interrupted Madame de Beaumesnil, 
 without making any effort to conceal the painful feel- 
 ings that this conversation was awakening. " I have 
 told you that I do not doubt the great worth of this 
 gentleman you have so often mentioned to me, but my 
 daughter Ernestine is not sixteen yet, and I am not 
 willing to insist upon her marrying a man she does 
 not even know, for the dear child has so much affection 
 for me that she would be quite capable of sacrificing 
 herself to please me." 
 
 " We will say no more about it, then, my dear sister," 
 said the abbe*, with a contrite air. " In calling your 
 attention to M. Celestin de Macreuse, I had but one ob- 
 
 83
 
 PRIDE. 
 
 ject in view. That was to save you from the slightest 
 anxiety concerning your dear Ernestine's future. You 
 Speak of sacrifices, my sister, but permit me to say that 
 the great danger is that your poor child will be sacrificed 
 some day to some man who is unworthy of her, to 
 some irreligious, dissipated spendthrift. You are un- 
 willing to influence your daughter in her choice of a 
 husband, you say. But alas ! who will guide her in her 
 choice if she has the misfortune to lose you ? Will it 
 be her selfish, worldly relatives, or will your too artless 
 and credulous child blindly yield to the promptings of 
 her heart. Ah, my sister, think of the dangers and 
 the deception to which she will inevitably be exposed ! 
 Think of the crowd of suitors which her immense for- 
 tune is sure to attract ! Ah, believe me, my sister, it 
 would be wiser to save her from these perils in advance 
 by a prudent and sensible choice." 
 
 " Forgive me, my father," said Madame de Beaumes- 
 nil, greatly agitated, and evidently desirous of putting 
 an end to this painful conversation ; " but I am feeling 
 very weak and tired. I appreciate and am truly grateful 
 for the interest you take in my daughter. I shall do my 
 duty faithfully by her so long as I am spared. Your 
 words will not be forgotten, I assure you, my father, and 
 may Heaven give me the strength and the time to act." 
 
 Too shrewd and crafty to press the claims of his 
 proteg6 further, Abb6 Ledoux said, benignly : 
 
 " May Heaven inspire you, my sister. I doubt not that 
 our gracious Lord will make your duty as a mother clear 
 to you. Courage, my sister, courage. And now farewell 
 until to-morrow." 
 
 " The morrow belongs to God." 
 
 "I can at least implore him to prolong your days, 
 my sister," answered the priest, bowing low. 
 
 He left the room. 
 
 The door had scarcely closed behind him before the 
 countess rang for one of her attendants. 
 
 84
 
 THE UNHAPPY SECRET. 
 
 " Is Mile. Herminie here ? " she asked. 
 " Yes, madame la comtesse." 
 " Ask her to come in. I wish to see her." 
 " Yes, madame la comtesse," replied the maid, hasten- 
 ing off to fulfil her employer's instructions. 
 
 A few minutes afterwards, Herminie, pale and sad, 
 though apparently calm, entered Madame de Beaumes- 
 nil's chamber, with her music books in her hand. 
 
 " I was told that madame la comtesse wished to see 
 me," she said, with marked deference. 
 
 " Yes, mademoiselle. I have I have a favour to 
 ask of you," replied Madame de Beaumesnil, who was 
 racking her brain to devise some way of bringing her 
 daughter closer to her. 
 
 " I am entirely at madame's service," Herminie an- 
 swered, promptly but quietly. 
 
 " I have a letter to write, mademoiselle, only a few 
 lines, but I am not sure that I shall have the strength to 
 write it. There is no one here that I can ask to do it in 
 my stead. Should it be necessary, would you be willing 
 to act as my secretary ? " 
 
 " With the greatest pleasure, madame," was the ready 
 response. 
 
 " I thank you for your willingness to oblige me." 
 
 " Does madame la comtesse wish me to get the neces- 
 sary writing materials for her ? " 
 
 " A thousand thanks, mademoiselle," replied the poor 
 mother, though she longed to accept her daughter's 
 offer so she might keep her with her as long as possible. 
 " I will ring for some one. I am loath to give you so 
 much trouble." 
 
 " It is no trouble to me, madame. I will gladly get 
 the necessary materials if you will tell me where to find 
 them." 
 
 " Over there, on that table near the piano, mademoi- 
 selle. I must also ask you to have the goodness to light a 
 
 85
 
 PRIDE. 
 
 candle, the light from the lamp is not enough. But 
 really I am trespassing entirely too much upon your 
 good nature," added Madame de Beaumesnil, as her 
 daughter lighted a candle and brought the necessary 
 writing materials to the bedside. 
 
 The countess having taken a sheet of paper and laid 
 it upon a blotting-case placed upon her knees, accepted 
 a pen from the hand of Herminie, who was holding the 
 candle in the other. 
 
 Madame de Beaumesnil tried to write a few words, 
 but her extreme weakness, together with her failing 
 sight, compelled her to desist from her efforts; the 
 pen dropped from her trembling fingers, and, sinking 
 back upon her pillows, the countess said to Herminie, 
 with a forced smile : 
 
 " I am not as strong as I thought, so I shall be obliged 
 to accept your kind offer, mademoiselle." 
 
 " Madame la comtesse has been in bed so long that 
 she should not be surprised to find herself a little weak," 
 responded Herminie, anxious to reassure Madame de 
 Beaumesnil and herself as well. 
 
 "You are right, mademoiselle. It was very foolish 
 in me to try to write. I will dictate to you, if you have 
 no objections." 
 
 Herminie had not felt at liberty to remove her hat, 
 and the countess, from whom the brim concealed a part 
 of her child's face, said, with some embarrassment : 
 
 " If you would take off your hat, mademoiselle, you 
 would find it more convenient to write, I think." 
 
 Herminie removed her hat, and the countess, who 
 was fairly devouring the girl with her eyes, had an 
 opportunity to admire at her ease, with true maternal 
 pride, the charming face and golden tresses of her child. 
 
 "I am at your service now, madame la comtesse," 
 said Herminie, seating herself at a table. 
 
 " Then will you kindly write this." And the countess 
 proceeded to dictate as follows : 
 
 86
 
 THE UNHAPPY SECRET. 
 
 " Madame de Beaumesnil would be greatly obliged 
 to M. le Marquis de Maillefort if he would come to her 
 house as soon as possible, even should that be at a late 
 hour of the night. 
 
 " Madame de Beaumesnil, being very weak, is obliged 
 to have recourse to the hand of another person in order 
 to write to M. de Maillefort, to whom she reiterates the 
 assurance of her very highest regard." 
 
 As Madame de Beaumesnil dictated this note she was 
 assailed by one of those puerile, but no less poignant, 
 fears that only a mother can understand. 
 
 Delighted by the refinement of manner and language 
 she noticed in her daughter, and aware that she was 
 a musical artiste of a high order, the countess asked her- 
 self, with a mother's jealous solicitude, if Herminie's 
 education was all it should be, and if her child's great 
 musical talent might not have been cultivated at the 
 expense of other and less showy accomplishments. 
 
 And strange as it may seem, so important are the 
 merest trifles to a mother's pride, at that moment, and 
 in spite of all her grave anxieties, Madame de Beaumesnil 
 was saying to herself : 
 
 " What if my daughter did not spell well ? What 
 if her handwriting should prove execrable ? " 
 
 This fear was so keen that for a minute or two the 
 countess dared not ask Herminie to show her the letter 
 she had written, but, finally, unable to endure the sus- 
 pense any longer, she asked : 
 
 " Have you finished, mademoiselle ? " 
 
 " Yes, madame la comtesse." 
 
 " Then will you have the goodness to hand me the 
 letter so so I can see if M. de Maillefort's name is 
 spelled correctly. I neglected to tell you how it was 
 spelled," added the countess, unable to invent any better 
 excuse- for her curiosity. 
 
 Herminie placed the letter in Madame de Beaumes- 
 nil's hand. And how proud and delighted that lady was 
 
 87
 
 PRIDE. 
 
 when she saw that the spelling was not only absolutely 
 perfect, but that the chirography was both graceful and 
 distinguished. 
 
 " Wonderful ! I never saw more beautiful writing ! " 
 exclaimed Madame de Beaumesnil, hastily. 
 
 Then, fearing her companion would notice her emo- 
 tion, she added, more calmly : 
 
 " Will you kindly address the letter now, mademoi- 
 selle, to 
 
 " M. le Marquis de Maillefort, 
 " No. 45 Rue des Martyrs." 
 
 Madame de Beaumesnil then summoned a trusty maid 
 who waited upon her exclusively, and as soon as she 
 came in, said to her : 
 
 " Madame Dupont, you will take a carriage and deliver 
 this letter yourself to the person to whom it is addressed. 
 In case M. de Maillefort is not at home, you are to wait 
 for him." 
 
 " But what if madame la comtesse should need any- 
 thing during my absence?" said the maid, evidently 
 much surprised at this order. 
 
 "Attend to my commission," replied Madame de 
 Beaumesnil. " Mademoiselle here will, I am sure, be 
 kind enough to perform any service I may require." 
 
 Herminie bowed her assent. 
 
 The countess proceeded to repeat her instructions to 
 her attendant, and while she was thus engaged, Her- 
 minie feeling comparatively safe from observation, gazed 
 at Madame de Beaumesnil with a world of love and anxi- 
 ety in her eyes, saying to herself the while, with touching 
 resignation: 
 
 " I dare not gaze at her except by stealth, and yet she 
 is my mother. Ah, may she never suspect that I know 
 the unhappy secret of my birth." 
 
 88
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 THE PRIVATE INTERVIEW. 
 
 IT was with an expression of almost triumphant sat- 
 isfaction that Mme. de Beaumesnil watched her maid 
 depart. 
 
 The poor mother felt sure now of at least an hour 
 alone with her daughter. 
 
 Thanks to this happiness, a faint flush overspread her 
 pallid cheeks, her dim eyes began to sparkle with a 
 feverish light, and the intense prostration gave place 
 to an unnatural excitement, for the countess was mak- 
 ing an almost superhuman effort to profit by this oppor- 
 tunity to talk with her daughter alone. 
 
 The door had scarcely closed upon the attendant 
 when Madame de Beaumesnil said : 
 
 " Mademoiselle, will you have the goodness to pour 
 into a cup five or six spoonfuls of that cordial there on 
 the mantel?" 
 
 " But, madame, you forget that the physician ordered 
 you to take this medicine only in small doses," protested 
 Herminie, anxiously. " At least, it seems to me I heard 
 him give those directions yesterday." 
 
 " Yes, but I am feeling much better now, and this 
 potion will do me a wonderful amount of good, I think 
 will give me new strength, in fact." 
 
 " Madame la comtesse is really feeling better ? " asked 
 Herminie, divided between a desire to believe Madame 
 de Beaumesnil and a fear of seeing her deceived as to 
 the gravity of her situation.
 
 PRIDE. 
 
 " You can scarcely credit the improvement I speak of, 
 perhaps. The sad rites you witnessed a few minutes ago 
 frightened you, I suppose, and very naturally. But it 
 was only a precaution on my part, for the consciousness 
 of having fulfilled my religious duties, and of being ready 
 to appear before God, gives me a serenity of soul to 
 which the improved condition of which I speak is doubt- 
 less due, at least in some measure. I feel sure, too, that 
 the cordial I asked you for just now, but which you 
 refuse to give me," added Madame de Beaumesnil, smil- 
 ing, " would do me a great deal of good, and enable me 
 to listen once again to one of the songs which have so 
 often assuaged my sufferings." 
 
 " As madame insists, I will give her the cordial," said 
 Herminie. 
 
 And the young girl, reflecting that a larger or smaller 
 dose of the cordial would probably make very little dif- 
 ference, after all, poured four spoonfuls into a cup and 
 handed it to Madame de Beaumesnil. 
 
 The countess, as she took the cup from Herminie, 
 managed to touch her hand, then, rejoiced to have her 
 daughter so near her, sipped the cordial very slowly and 
 then gave such a sigh of weariness as to almost compel 
 Herminie to ask : 
 
 " Is madame la comtesse fatigued ? " 
 
 "Rather. It seems to me that if I could sit bolt 
 upright for a little while I should be more comfortable, 
 but I am hardly strong enough to do that." 
 
 " If madame la comtesse would would lean upon 
 me," said the young girl, hesitatingly, " it might rest her 
 a little." 
 
 " I would accept your offer if I did not feel that I was 
 imposing upon your kindness," replied Madame de Beau- 
 mesnil, delighted at the success of her little ruse. 
 
 Herminie's heart swelled almost to bursting as she 
 seated herself upon the side of the bed and pillowed the 
 invalid's head upon her daughter's bosom. 
 
 90
 
 THE PRIVATE INTERVIEW. 
 
 As they found themselves for the first time in each 
 others' arms, so to speak, the mother and daughter both 
 trembled with emotion. Their position prevented them 
 from seeing each others' faces; but for that Mme. de 
 Beaumesnil, in spite of her vow, might not have been 
 able to guard her secret any longer. 
 
 " No, no, there must be no guilty weakness on my 
 part," thought Madame de Beaumesnil. " My poor child 
 shall never know this sad secret, I have sworn it. Is it 
 not a piece of unlooked-for good fortune for me to be 
 the recipient of her affectionate care, which I owe to 
 her kindness of heart rather than to filial instinct, of 
 course ? " 
 
 "Oh, I would rather die than allow my mother to 
 suspect that I know I am her daughter," thought Her- 
 minie, in her turn. " Possibly she is ignorant of the 
 fact herself. Perhaps it was chance, and chance alone, 
 that brought about my present relations with Madame 
 de Beaumesnil ; perhaps I am really only a stranger in 
 her eyes." 
 
 " I thank you, mademoiselle," said Madame de Beau- 
 mesnil, after a while, but without venturing a glance at 
 Herminie. " I feel more comfortable, now." 
 
 " Will madame la comtesse allow me to arrange her 
 pillows for her before she lies down again ?" 
 
 " If you will be so good," replied Madame de Beau- 
 mesnil, for would not this little service keep her daughter 
 beside her a few seconds longer ? 
 
 Mademoiselle and madame la comtesse ! If one could 
 but have heard the tone in which the mother and daugh- 
 ter interchanged these cold and ceremonious appellations 
 which had never before seemed so icy in character ! 
 
 " I have to thank you once again, mademoiselle," said 
 the countess, after she had lain down. " I find myself 
 more and more comfortable, thanks to your kind atten- 
 tions. The cordial, too, seems to have done me good, and 
 I feel sure that I shall have a very comfortable night." 
 
 91
 
 PRIDE. 
 
 Herminie glanced dubiously at her hat and mantle. 
 She feared that she would be dismissed on the maid's 
 return, for it was quite likely that Madame de Beaumes- 
 nil would not care to hear any music that evening. 
 
 Unwilling to renounce her last hope, the young girl 
 said, timidly : 
 
 " Madame la comtesse asked me to bring some selec- 
 tions from 'Oberon' this evening, but perhaps she does 
 not care to listen to them." 
 
 " Quite the contrary, mademoiselle," said Madame de 
 Beaumesnil, quickly. " You know how often your sing- 
 ing has mitigated my sufferings, and this evening I am 
 feeling so well that music will prove, not an anodyne, 
 but a genuine pleasure." 
 
 Herminie cast a quick glance at Madame de Beau- 
 mesnil, and was struck by the change in that lady's 
 usually drawn and pallid countenance. A slight colour 
 tinged her cheeks now, and her expression was calm, 
 even smiling. 
 
 On beholding this metamorphosis, the girl's gloomy 
 presentiments vanished. Hope revived in her heart, and 
 she almost believed that her mother had been saved 
 by one of those sudden changes so common in nervous 
 maladies. 
 
 So inexpressibly pleased and relieved, Herminie took 
 her music and walked to the piano. 
 
 Directly over the instrument hung a portrait of a little 
 girl five or six years of age, playing with a magnificent 
 greyhound. She was not pretty, but the childish face 
 had a remarkably sweet and ingenuous expression. This 
 portrait, painted about ten years before, was that of 
 Ernestine de Beaumesnil, the Comtesse de Beaumesnil's 
 legitimate child. 
 
 Herminie had not needed to ask who the original of 
 this portrait was, and more than once she had cast a 
 timid, loving glance at this little sister whom she did 
 not know, and whom she would never know, perhaps. 
 
 92
 
 THE PRIVATE INTERVIEW. 
 
 On seeing this portrait now, Herminie, still under the 
 influence of her late emotion, felt even more deeply 
 moved than usual, and for a minute or two she could 
 not take her eyes off the picture. Meanwhile, Madame 
 de Beaumesnil was tenderly watching the girl's every 
 movement, and noted her contemplation of Ernestine's 
 portrait with keen delight. 
 
 " Poor Herminie ! " thought the countess. " She has 
 a mother and a sister, and yet she will never know the 
 sweetness of those words : my sister my mother." 
 
 And furtively wiping away a tear, Madame de Beau- 
 mesnil said aloud to Herminie, whose eyes were still 
 riveted upon the portrait : 
 
 " That is my daughter. She has a sweet face, has 
 she not?" 
 
 Herminie started as if she had been detected in some 
 grievous crime, and blushed deeply as she timidly replied : 
 
 " Pardon me, madame ; I I " 
 
 " Oh, look at it, look at it all you please," exclaimed 
 Madame de Beaumesnil, hastily. " Though she is nearly 
 grown now, and has changed very much in some respects, 
 she still retains that same sweet, ingenuous expression. 
 She is not nearly as handsome as you are," said the poor 
 mother, with secret pride, and well pleased to be able to 
 thus unite her two daughters in the same comparison, 
 " but Ernestine's face, like yours, possesses a wonderful 
 charm." 
 
 Then, fearing she had gone too far, Madame de Beau- 
 mesnil added, sadly : 
 
 " Poor child ! Heaven grant she may be better now ! " 
 
 "Are you really very anxious about her health, 
 madame la comtesse?" 
 
 " She has not been at all well for some months past. 
 She grew so rapidly that we were very anxious about her. 
 The physicians advised us to take her to Italy, but my 
 own health would not permit me to accompany her. 
 Fortunately, the latest reports from her are very encour- 
 
 93
 
 PRIDE. 
 
 aging. Poor, dear child ! She writes every day a sort 
 of journal for me. You can not imagine anything 
 more touching than her artless confessions. I will 
 let you read some extracts from these letters. You 
 will love Ernestine, then; you could not help loving 
 her." 
 
 " I am sure of that, madame, and I thank you a thou- 
 sand times for your promise," said Herminie. " As the 
 last news received from your daughter is so reassuring, 
 pray do not worry any more about her. Youth has so 
 many chances in its favour anywhere, and under the 
 beautiful skies of Italy she is sure to recover her 
 health." 
 
 A bitter thought flitted through Madame de Beau- 
 mesnil's mind. 
 
 Remembering the expensive journey, the constant 
 care, and the heavy outlay Ernestine's feeble health 
 had necessitated, the countess asked herself with some- 
 thing closely akin to terror what Herminie would have 
 done poor, deserted creature that she was ! if she 
 had found herself in Ernestine's position, and if her 
 life could have been saved only by the assiduous care 
 and expensive travel which the wealthy alone can 
 command. 
 
 This thought excited in Madame de Beaumesnil's 
 breast a still keener desire to know how Herminie had 
 overcome the many difficulties of her precarious position, 
 for the countess had known absolutely nothing in regard 
 to the girl's life up to the time when a mere chance had 
 brought the mother and daughter together. 
 
 But how could she solicit these revelations without 
 betraying herself? To what agony she might subject 
 herself by asking her daughter for the story of her 
 life ! 
 
 This reflection had always prevented Madame de 
 Beaumesnil from questioning Herminie, heretofore, but 
 that evening, either because the countess felt that the 
 
 94
 
 THE PRIVATE INTERVIEW. 
 
 apparent improvement in her condition was a precursor 
 of the end, or because a feeling of tenderness, increased 
 by the events of the evening, proved too strong for her 
 powers of resistance, Madame de Beaumesnil resolved to 
 question Herminie. 
 
 95
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 EEVELATIONS. 
 
 WHILE Madame de Beaumesnil was silently revolving 
 in her mind the surest means of inducing Herminie to 
 tell the story of her past life, the girl stood turning the 
 pages of her music book, waiting for the countess to ask 
 her to begin. 
 
 "You will think me very changeable, I fear, made- 
 moiselle," said the countess, at last ; " but if it is all the 
 same to you, I would prefer to postpone the music until 
 about ten o'clock. That is usually my worst time, 
 though perhaps I shall escape it to-night. If I do not, 
 I should regret having exhausted a resource which has 
 so often relieved me. Nor is this all ; after having ad- 
 mitted that I am whimsical, I fear that you will now 
 accuse me of having entirely too much curiosity." 
 
 " And why, madame ? " 
 
 " Come and seat yourself here beside me," said the 
 countess, affectionately, " and tell me how it is that 
 you who can not be more than seventeen or eighteen 
 years of age " 
 
 " Eighteen years and six months, madame la com- 
 tesse." 
 
 " Well, then, how it is that you are such an accom- 
 plished musician at your age ? " 
 
 "Madame la comtesse judges me too flatteringly. I 
 have always had a great love for music, and I had very 
 little trouble in learning it." 
 
 96
 
 REVELATIONS. 
 
 " But who was your instructor ? Where did you learn 
 music ? " 
 
 " I was taught in the school I attended, madame la 
 comtesse." 
 
 " In Paris, then, I suppose ? " 
 
 " No ; I have attended school in other places besides 
 Paris." 
 
 Where ? " 
 
 " In Beauvais. I lived there until I was ten years 
 old." 
 
 And after that ? " 
 
 " I was placed in a Parisian school." 
 
 " And how long did you remain there ? " 
 
 " Until I was sixteen and a half." 
 
 "And after that?" 
 
 " I left school and began to give lessons in singing 
 and on the piano." 
 
 " And ever since that time you have ? " 
 
 Madame de Beaumesnil hastily checked herself, then 
 added, with no little embarrassment : 
 
 " I am really ashamed of my inquisitiveness noth- 
 ing but the deep interest I take in you could excuse 
 it, mademoiselle." 
 
 " The questions madame la comtesse deigns to address 
 to me are evidently so kindly meant that I am only too 
 glad to answer them in all sincerity." 
 
 " Well, then, with whom did you make your home 
 after leaving school ? " 
 
 " With whom did I make my home, madame ? " 
 
 " Yes ; I mean with what persons ? " 
 
 " I had no one to go to, madame." 
 
 " No one ? " exclaimed Madame de Beaumesnil, with 
 truly heroic courage. " You had no relatives ? No 
 family?" 
 
 " I have no relatives, madame la comtesse," replied 
 Herminie, with a courage equal to that of her mother. 
 " I have no relatives." 
 
 97
 
 PRIDE. 
 
 " I am sure now that she does not know that I am her 
 daughter," Herminie said to herself. " If she did, she 
 certainly would not have had the courage to ask me such 
 a question." 
 
 " Then with whom have you lived since that time ? " 
 asked the countess. 
 
 " I have lived alone." 
 
 " Entirely alone ? " 
 
 " Yes, madame." 
 
 " Forgive me this one more question, for at your age 
 such a position is so unusual and so very interesting 
 have you always had scholars enough to support you ? " 
 
 "Oh, yes, madame la comtesse," replied poor Her- 
 minie, bravely. 
 
 "And you live entirely alone, though you are so 
 young ? " 
 
 " What else could I do, madame ? One can not choose 
 one's lot; one can only accept it, and by the aid of- 
 industry and courage try to make one's existence, if not 
 brilliant, at least happy." 
 
 "Happy!" exclaimed Madame de Beaumesnil, in 
 accents of irrepressible delight ; " you are really happy ? " 
 
 As she uttered these words her countenance, as well 
 as her voice, betrayed such intense joy and relief that 
 Herminie's doubts returned, and she said to herself : 
 
 " Perhaps she does know that I am her daughter. 
 If she does not, why should she be so pleased to learn 
 that I am happy. It matters little, however. If she 
 does know that I am her daughter, I must reassure 
 her so as to save her from vain regrets, and perhaps 
 remorse. If I am a stranger to her, it is no less neces- 
 sary for me to reassure her, else she may think I wish 
 to excite her commiseration, and my pride revolts at the 
 idea of that." 
 
 Meanwhile, Madame de Beaumesnil, longing to hear 
 Herminie repeat an assurance so precious to a mother's 
 heart, exclaimed : 
 
 98
 
 REVELATIONS. 
 
 "And you say you are happy really and truly 
 happy ? " 
 
 " Yes, madame," answered Herminie, almost gaily, 
 " very happy." 
 
 Seeing her daughter's charming face thus radiant with 
 innocent joy and youthful beauty, the countess was obliged 
 to make a violent effort to keep from betraying herself, 
 and it was with a fair imitation of Herminie's gaiety that 
 she replied : 
 
 " Don't laugh at my question, mademoiselle, but to us, 
 who are unfortunately accustomed to all the luxuries and 
 superfluities of wealth, there are many things that seem 
 incomprehensible. When you left school, however mod- 
 est your wants may have been, how did you manage to 
 suppl/ them?" 
 
 " Oh, I was rich, then, madame la comtesse," said 
 Herminie, smiling. 
 
 How was that ? " 
 
 " Two years after I was placed at a Parisian school, 
 the remittances which had, up to that time, been re- 
 ceived for my schooling ceased. I was then twelve years 
 old, and the principal of the school was very fond of me. 
 ' My child,' she said to me one day, ' your friends have 
 ceased to pay for you, but that makes no difference; 
 you shall stay on just the same.' " 
 
 " Noble woman ! " 
 
 " She was the best woman that ever lived, madame la 
 comtesse, but, unfortunately, she is dead now," said 
 Herminie, sadly. 
 
 Then, unwilling to leave the countess under a painful 
 impression, she added, smilingly : 
 
 "But the kind-hearted woman had not taken my 
 greatest fault into consideration in making these plans. 
 For, as you ask me to be perfectly frank with you, 
 madame, I am forced to admit that I have one great 
 and deplorable fault." 
 
 " And what is it, may I ask ? " 
 
 99
 
 PRIDE. 
 
 " Alas ! madame, it is pride" 
 
 Pride ? " 
 
 " Yes ; so when our kind-hearted principal offered to 
 keep me out of charity, my pride revolted, and I told 
 her I would accept her offer only upon condition that I 
 was allowed to pay by my work for what she offered me 
 gratuitously." 
 
 " You said that at the age of twelve. What a little 
 braggart she must have thought you. And how did you 
 propose to pay her, pray ? " 
 
 "By superintending the practising of the younger 
 music pupils, for I was very far advanced for my age, 
 having always had a passion for music." 
 
 " And did she accept your proposal ? " 
 
 " Gladly, madame la comtesse. My determination to 
 be independent seemed to touch her deeply." 
 
 " I can readily understand that." 
 
 " Thanks to her, I soon had a large number of pupils, 
 several of them much older than myself, my pride is 
 continually cropping out, you see, madame. In this way, 
 what was at first child's play became a vocation, and, 
 later on, a valuable resource. At the age of fourteen, I 
 was the second piano teacher, with a salary of twelve 
 hundred francs, so you can form some estimate of the 
 wealth I must have amassed at the age of sixteen and a 
 half." 
 
 " Poor child ! So young, and yet so full of indomi- 
 table energy and noble pride ! " exclaimed the countess, 
 unable to restrain her tears. 
 
 " Then why did you leave the school ? " she continued, 
 after she had conquered her emotion. 
 
 " Our noble-hearted principal died, and another lady 
 who unfortunately did not resemble my benefactress in 
 the least took her place. The newcomer, however, 
 proposed that I should remain in the institution upon 
 the same terms. I accepted her offer, but, at the 
 end of two months, my great fault and my hot 
 
 100
 
 REVELATIONS. 
 
 head caused me to sever my connection with the 
 school." 
 
 And why ? " 
 
 " My new employer was as hard and tyrannical as the 
 other had been kind and affectionate, and one day 
 
 Herminie's beautiful face turned a vivid scarlet at the 
 recollection, and she hesitated a moment. 
 
 " One day," she continued, at last, " this lady made a 
 remark to me that cut me to the quick." 
 
 "What did the wicked creature say to you?" de- 
 manded Madame de Beaumesnil, for Herminie had 
 paused again, unwilling to wound the countess by re- 
 peating the insulting and heartless words : 
 
 " You are very proud for a bastard that was reared 
 by charity in this very house." 
 
 " What did that wicked woman say to you ? " insisted 
 Madame de Beaumesnil. 
 
 " I beg that you will not insist upon my repeating her 
 heartless words," replied Herminie. " Though I have 
 not forgotten, I have at least forgiven them. But the 
 very next day I left the house with my little savings. 
 With these I fitted up my modest manage, for since that 
 time I have lived alone, in a home of my own." 
 
 Herminie uttered the words, " in a home of my own," 
 with such a proud and satisfied air, that Madame de 
 Beaumesnil, with tears in her eyes, despite the smile 
 upon her lips, pressed the young girl's hand affection- 
 ately, and said : 
 
 " I am sure this home of yours must be charming." 
 
 " Oh, yes, madame, there is nothing too elegant for 
 me." 
 
 " Come, tell me all about it. How many rooms are 
 there in your apartment ? " 
 
 " Only one, besides a tiny hall ; but it is on the ground 
 floor, and looks out upon a garden. The room is small, 
 so I could afford a pretty carpet and curtains. I have 
 only one armchair, but that is velvet. I have but little 
 
 101
 
 PRIDE. 
 
 furniture, it is true, but that little is in very good taste, 
 I think. There is one thing more that I aspire to, how- 
 ever, and that ambition will soon be realised." 
 
 "And what is that?" 
 
 "It is to have a little maid, a child thirteen or 
 fourteen years of age, whom I shall rescue from misery 
 and want, and who will be as happy as the day is long 
 with me. I have heard of an orphan girl, about twelve 
 years old, a dear, obedient, affectionate child, they say, 
 so you can judge how pleased I shall be when I am able 
 to take her into my service. It will not be a useless 
 expense, either, madame la comtesse, for then I shall 
 not be obliged to go out alone to give my lessons, and 
 that is so unpleasant, for, as you must know, madame, a 
 young girl who is obliged to go out alone " 
 
 Herminie's voice faltered, and tears of shame filled 
 her eyes as she thought of the insult she had just re- 
 ceived from M. de Ravil, as well as other annoyances 
 of a like nature to which she had often been subjected 
 in spite of her modest and dignified bearing. 
 
 " I understand, my child, and I approve your plan," 
 said Madame de Beaumesnil, more and more deeply 
 touched. " But your pupils who procures them for 
 you ? And do you always have as many as you need ? " 
 
 " Generally, madame la comtesse. In summer, when 
 several of my pupils go to the country, I follow other 
 pursuits. I can embroider very well ; sometimes I copy 
 music I have even composed several pieces. I have 
 maintained friendly relations, too, with several of my 
 former schoolmates, and it was through one of them 
 that I was recommended to the wife of your physician, 
 who was looking for a young person, a good musician, 
 to play and sing for you." 
 
 Herminie, who had begun her story seated in an arm- 
 chair near the bedside, now found herself half reclining 
 on the bed, clasped in her mother's arms. 
 
 Both had unconsciously yielded to the promptings of 
 102
 
 REVELATIONS. 
 
 filial and maternal love, for Madame de Beaumesnil, 
 after placing Herminie near her, had ventured to retain 
 one of her daughter's hands during the narration of this 
 simple yet touching story, and as Herminie recounted 
 the principal incidents of her past life to her mother, 
 she felt Madame de Beaumesnil's hand draw her closer 
 and closer, until she found herself leaning over the bed 
 with her mother's arms around her neck. 
 
 Then seized with a sort of maternal frenzy, Madame 
 de Beaumesnil, instead of continuing the conversation 
 and answering her daughter, seized Herminie's lovely 
 face in her two hands, and, without uttering a word, 
 covered it with tears and impassioned kisses, after which 
 the mother and daughter remained for several minutes 
 clasped in a convulsive embrace. It is well-nigh cer- 
 tain that the secret which it had been so difficult to 
 guard, and which had more than once been upon their 
 lips, would have escaped them this time if they had not 
 been suddenly recalled to consciousness by a knock at 
 the door. 
 
 Madame de Beaumesnil, terrified at the thought of the 
 act of perjury she had been on the verge of committing, 
 but unable to explain this wild transport of tenderness 
 on her part, exclaimed incoherently, as she gently re- 
 leased Herminie from her embrace : 
 
 " Forgive me, forgive me, my child ! I am a mother, 
 
 my own child is far away and her absence causes 
 me the deepest regret. My poor brain is so weak 
 now and for a moment I laboured under the delusion 
 
 the strange delusion that it was that it was my 
 absent daughter I was pressing to my heart. Pardon 
 the strange hallucination you cannot but pity a poor 
 mother who realises that she is dying without being 
 able to embrace her child for the last time." 
 
 " Dying ! " exclaimed the girl, raising her tear-stained 
 face and gazing wildly at her mother. 
 
 But hearing the knock repeated, Herminie hastily 
 
 103
 
 PRIDE. 
 
 dried her tears, and, forcing herself to appear calm, said 
 to her mother : 
 
 "This is the second time some one has knocked, 
 madame la comtesse." 
 
 " Admit the person," murmured Madame de Beaumes- 
 nil, faintly, quite overcome by the painful scene. It 
 proved to be the confidential maid of the countess. She 
 entered, and said : 
 
 "I went to M. le Marquis de Maillefort as madame 
 directed." 
 
 " Well ? " demanded Madame de Beaumesnil, eagerly. 
 
 " And M. le marquis is waiting below until madame 
 la comtesse is ready to see him." 
 
 " Heaven be praised ! " murmured Madame de Beau- 
 mesnil, fervently. " God is rewarding me for having 
 had the strength to keep my vow ! " 
 
 Then, turning to the maid, she added : 
 
 " Bring M. de Maillefort here at once." 
 
 Herminie, quite overcome by so many conflicting 
 emotions, and feeling that her presence was no longer 
 desired, took her hat and mantle with the intention of 
 departing at once. 
 
 The countess never took her eyes from the young 
 girl's face. She was gazing at her daughter for the 
 last time, perhaps, for the poor mother felt her life was 
 nearly over now. Nevertheless she had the courage to 
 say to Herminie in an almost unconcerned voice in 
 order to deceive the girl as to her real condition : 
 
 " We will have our selections from ' Oberon ' to-mor- 
 row, mademoiselle. You will have the goodness to come 
 early, will you not ? " 
 
 " Yes, madame la comtesse," replied Herminie. 
 
 " Show mademoiselle out, Madame Dupont, and then 
 bring M. de Maillefort," the countess said to her maid. 
 But as she watched her daughter move towards the door 
 she could not help saying to her for the last time : 
 
 " Farewell, mademoiselle." 
 
 104
 
 REVELATIONS. 
 
 " Farewell, madame la comtesse," answered Herminie. 
 
 And it was in these formal words that these two 
 poor, heart-broken creatures gave vent to their grief and 
 despair at this final hour of parting. 
 
 Madame Dupont showed Herminie to the street door 
 without taking her past the drawing-room in which 
 M. de Maillefort was waiting. Just as the young girl 
 was leaving, Madame Dupont said, kindly : 
 
 "You have forgotten your umbrella, mademoiselle, 
 and you will need it, for it is a dreadful night. The 
 rain is falling in torrents." 
 
 "Thank you, madame," said Herminie, recollecting 
 now that she had left her umbrella just outside the door 
 of the reception-room, and hastening back for it. 
 
 It was indeed, raining in torrents, but Herminie, 
 absorbed in grief, did not even notice that the night was 
 dark and stormy as she left the H6tel de Beaumesnil, 
 and wended her solitary way homeward. 
 
 105
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 THE PUESE OF MONEY. 
 
 M. DE MAILLEFOET was waiting alone in one of the 
 drawing-rooms when Madame Dupont came to conduct 
 him into Madame de Beaumesnil's presence. 
 
 The hunchback's countenance had lost its usual ex- 
 pression of cynical raillery. Profound sadness, mingled 
 with an intense anxiety and surprise, could be easily 
 discerned upon his features. 
 
 Standing with one elbow resting on the mantel, and 
 his head supported on his hand, the marquis seemed 
 lost in thought. One might almost have fancied that 
 he was seeking the solution of some difficult enigma ; 
 but now and then he would wake from his reverie and 
 gaze around him with eyes glittering with tears, then 
 hurriedly passing his hand across his forehead, as if to 
 drive away painful thoughts, he began to pace the room 
 with hasty strides. 
 
 Only a few minutes had elapsed, however, when 
 Madame Dupont came to say : 
 
 " If M. le marquis will be kind enough to follow me, 
 madame la comtesse will see him now." 
 
 Stepping in front of the marquis, Madame Dupont 
 opened the door leading into Madame de Beaumesnil's 
 apartment and announced : 
 
 " M. le Marquis de Maillefort ! " 
 
 The countess had made an invalid's toilet. Her 
 blonde hair, somewhat dishevelled by the passionate em- 
 braces bestowed upon her daughter, had been smoothed 
 
 106
 
 THE PURSE OF MONEY. 
 
 afresh, a dainty cap of Valenciennes lace surmounted 
 the pale face, from which every tinge of colour had now 
 fled. Her eyes, so brilliant with maternal tenderness a 
 few moments before, had lost their lustre, and the hands 
 that burned so feverishly when they pressed Herminie's 
 were fast growing cold. 
 
 Noting the appalling change in the features of the 
 countess, whom he had seen but a comparatively short 
 time before radiant with youth and beauty, M. de Maille- 
 fort started violently, then paused a moment in spite of 
 himself. 
 
 " You find me greatly changed, do you not, M. de 
 Maillefort ? " asked Madame de Beaumesnil, with a sad 
 smile. 
 
 The hunchback made no reply. His head drooped, 
 and when he raised it again, after a minute or two, he 
 was as pale as death. 
 
 Madame de Beaumesnil motioned the marquis to seat 
 himself in an armchair near the bedside, saying as she 
 did so, in a grave but affectionate voice : 
 
 " I fear my moments even are numbered, M. de 
 Maillefort, and I shall therefore endeavour to make this 
 interview as brief as possible." 
 
 The marquis silently took the seat designated by the 
 countess, who added : 
 
 " My note must have surprised you." 
 
 " Yes, madame." 
 
 " But kind and generous as ever, you hastened to 
 comply with my request." 
 
 The marquis bowed, and, in a voice full of emotion, 
 the countess went on : 
 
 " M. de Maillefort, you have loved me devotedly," she 
 said. 
 
 The hunchback started visibly, and gazed at the 
 countess with mingled dismay and astonishment. 
 
 " Do not be surprised that I should have discovered 
 a secret that no one else has even suspected," continued 
 
 107
 
 PRIDE. 
 
 the countess, " for love, true love, always betrays itself 
 to the person loved." 
 
 " So you knew," stammered the hunchback. 
 
 " I knew all," replied the countess, extending her 
 ice-cold hand to M. de Maillefort, who pressed it rever- 
 ently, while tears which he could no longer repress 
 streamed down his cheeks. 
 
 " Yes, I knew all," continued the countess, " your 
 noble, though carefully concealed, devotion, and the 
 suffering so heroically endured." 
 
 " You knew all ? " repeated M. de Maillefort, hesitat- 
 ingly ; " you knew all. and yet your greeting was always 
 kind and gracious when we chanced to meet. You 
 knew all, and yet I never detected a mocking smile 
 upon your lips or a gleam of disdainful pity in your eye." 
 
 " M. de Maillefort," the countess answered, with 
 touching dignity, " it is in the name of the love you 
 have borne me, it is in the name of the affectionate 
 esteem with which your character has always inspired 
 me, that I now, at the hour of death, beg that you will 
 allow me to entrust to your keeping the interests I hold 
 most dear." 
 
 " Forgive me, madame, forgive me," said the marquis, 
 with even greater emotion, "for having even for an 
 instant fancied that a heart like yours could scorn or 
 ridicule an unconquerable but carefully concealed love. 
 Speak on, madame, I believe I am worthy of the confi- 
 dence you show in me." 
 
 " M. de Maillefort, this night will be my last." 
 
 " Madame ! " 
 
 " I am not deceiving myself. It is only by a strong 
 effort of will and a powerful stimulant that I have 
 managed to hold death at bay for several hours past. 
 Listen, then, for, as I just told you, my moments are 
 numbered." 
 
 The hunchback dried his tears and listened with 
 breathless attention. 
 
 108
 
 THE PURSE OF MONEY. 
 
 " You have heard of the frightful accident of which 
 M. de Beaumesnil was the victim. By reason of his 
 death and mine my daughter Ernestine will soon be 
 an orphan in a strange land, with no one to care for her 
 but a governess. Nor is this all. Ernestine is an angel 
 of goodness and ingenuousness, but she is exceedingly 
 timid. Tenderly guarded both by her father and my- 
 self, she is as ignorant of the world as only a sixteen- 
 year-old girl who has been jealously watched over by 
 her parents, and who naturally prefers quiet and sim- 
 plicity, can be. On some accounts one might suppose 
 that I need feel no anxiety in regard to her future, for 
 she will be the richest heiress in France, but I cannot 
 overcome my uneasiness when I think of the persons 
 who will probably have charge of my daughter when I 
 am gone, for it is M. and Madame de la Rochaigue 
 who, as her nearest relatives, will doubtless be selected 
 as her guardians. This being the case, you can easily 
 understand my apprehensions, I think." 
 
 " It would, indeed, be desirable that your daugh- 
 ter should have more judicious guardians, but Mile, de 
 Beaumesnil is sixteen. Her minority will not last long ; 
 besides, the persons to whom you allude are erratic and 
 ridiculous rather than dangerous." 
 
 "I know that, still, Ernestine's hand will be so 
 strongly coveted I have already had convincing proofs 
 of that " added Madame de Beaumesnil, remembering 
 her confessor's persistent efforts in M. de Macreuse's 
 behalf, " the poor child will be the victim of such perse- 
 cution that I shall not feel entirely reassured unless she 
 has a faithful and devoted friend of superior character, 
 willing and capable of guiding her in her choice. Will 
 you be this faithful friend to my child, M. de Maillefort ? 
 Consent, I beseech you, and I shall leave the world sat- 
 isfied that my daughter's lot in life will be as happy as 
 it will be brilliant." 
 
 " I will endeavour to be such a friend to your daugh- 
 
 109
 
 PRIDE. 
 
 ter, madame. Everything that I can do for her, I 
 will do." 
 
 " Ah, I can breath freely now, I no longer feel any 
 anxiety in regard to Ernestine. I know what such 
 a promise means from you, M. de Maillefort," ex- 
 claimed the countess, her face beaming with hope and 
 serenity. 
 
 But almost immediately a consciousness of increasing 
 weakness, together with other unfavourable symptoms, 
 convinced Madame de Beaumesnil that her end was fast 
 approaching. Her countenance, which had beamed for 
 a moment with the hope and serenity M. de Maillefort's 
 promise had inspired, became troubled again, and in a 
 hurried, almost entreating voice, she continued : 
 
 " But this is not all, M. de Maillefort, I have a still 
 greater favour to ask of you. Aided by your counsels, 
 my daughter Ernestine will be as happy as she is rich. 
 Her future is as bright and as well assured as any per- 
 son's can be, but it is very different concerning the 
 future of a poor but noble-hearted creature, whom I 
 I wish that you " 
 
 Madame de Beaumesnil paused. Say more she dared 
 not could not. 
 
 Though she had resolved to tell M. de Maillefort the 
 secret of Herminie's birth, in the hope of ensuring her 
 child the protection of this generous man, she shrank 
 from the shame of such a confession, a confession which 
 would also have been a violation of the solemn oath she 
 had taken years before, and faithfully kept. 
 
 The marquis, seeing her hesitate, said, gently : 
 
 " What is it, madame ? Will you not be kind enough 
 to tell me what other service I can render you ? Do you 
 not know that you can depend upon me as one of the 
 most devoted of your friends ? " 
 
 " I know that ! I know that ! " gasped Madame de 
 Beaumesnil, " but I dare not I am afraid " 
 
 The marquis, deeply touched by her distress, en- 
 
 110
 
 THE PURSE OF MONEY. 
 
 deavoured to make it easier for her to prefer her 
 request by saying : 
 
 " When you checked yourself just now, madame, you 
 were speaking, I think, of the uncertain future of a poor 
 but noble-hearted creature. Who is she ? And ha what 
 way can I be of service to her ? " 
 
 Overcome with grief and increasing weakness, Madame 
 de Beaumesnil buried her face in her hands, and burst 
 into tears ; then, after a brief silence, riveting her weep- 
 ing eyes on the marquis, and endeavouring to appear 
 more calm, she said, brokenly : 
 
 " Yes, you might be of the greatest possible service to 
 a poor girl worthy in every respect of your interest, 
 for she, too, is an orphan a most unfortunate orphan, 
 for she is both friendless and penniless, but, oh, so 
 brave, and so proud ! In short, she is an angel," cried 
 the countess, with a vehemence at which M. de Maille- 
 fort marvelled greatly. " Yes," continued Madame de 
 Beaumesnil, sobbing violently, " Yes, she is an angel of 
 courage and of virtue, and it is for this angel that I 
 ask the same fatherly interest I asked for my daughter 
 Ernestine. Oh, M. de Maillefort, do not refuse my request, 
 I beseech you ! " 
 
 The excitement and embarrassment Madame de Beau- 
 mesnil manifested in speaking of this orphan, together 
 with the almost frenzied appeal in her behalf, excited 
 the Marquis de Maillefort's profound astonishment. 
 
 For a moment he was too amazed to speak ; then, all 
 of a sudden, he started violently, for a terrible suspicion 
 darted through his mind. He recollected some of the 
 scandalous (up to this time he had always styled them 
 infamous) reports, which had been rife in former years, 
 concerning Madame de Beaumesnil, and which he had 
 avenged by challenging M. de Mornand that very day. 
 
 Could it be that there had really been a foundation 
 for these rumours ? Was this orphan, in whom Madame 
 de Beaumesnil seemed to take such a profound interest, 
 
 111
 
 PRIDE. 
 
 bound to the countess by a secret tie ? Was she, indeed, 
 the child of her shame ? 
 
 But almost immediately the marquis, full of confidence 
 in Madame de Beaumesnil's virtue, drove away these 
 odious suspicions, and bitterly reproached himself for 
 having entertained them even for a moment. 
 
 The countess, terrified by the hunchback's silence, 
 said to him, in trembling tones : 
 
 " Forgive me, M. de Maillefort. I see that I have 
 presumed too much upon your generous kindness. Not 
 content with having secured your fatherly protection for 
 my daughter, Ernestine, I must needs seek to interest 
 you in an unfortunate stranger. Pardon me, I beseech 
 you." 
 
 The tone in which Madame de Beaumesnil uttered 
 these words was so heart-broken and full of despair that 
 M. de Maillefort's suspicions revived. One of his dearest 
 illusions was being ruthlessly destroyed. Madame de 
 Beaumesnil was no longer the ideal woman he had so 
 long adored. 
 
 But taking pity on this unhappy mother, and under- 
 standing how terribly she must suffer, M. de Maillefort 
 felt his eyes fill with tears, and it was in an agitated 
 voice that he replied : 
 
 " You need have no fears, madame, I shall keep my 
 promise, and the orphan girl you commend to my care 
 will be as dear to me as Mile, de Beaumesnil. I shall 
 have two daughters instead of one." 
 
 And he pressed the hand of Madame de Beaumesnil 
 affectionately, as if to seal his promise. 
 
 " Now I can die in peace ! " exclaimed the countess. 
 And before the marquis could prevent it, she had pressed 
 her cold lips upon the hand he had offered her; and, 
 from this manifestation of ineffable gratitude, M. de 
 Maillefort was convinced that the person in question 
 was indeed Madame de Beaumesnil's illegitimate child. 
 
 All at once, either because so much violent emotion 
 
 112
 
 THE PURSE OF MONEY. 
 
 had exhausted the invalid's strength, or because her 
 malady concealed for a time by an apparent improve- 
 ment in the sufferer's condition had attained its height, 
 Madame de Beaumesnil made a sudden movement, at 
 the same time uttering a cry of agony. 
 
 " Good God, madame, what is it ? " cried the mar- 
 quis, terrified at the sudden alteration in Madame de 
 BeaumesniPs features. 
 
 " It is nothing," she answered, heroically, " a slight 
 pain, that is all. But here, take this key, quick, I 
 beg of you," she added, drawing out a key from under 
 her pillow and handing it to him. 
 
 " Open that secretary," she gasped. 
 
 The marquis obeyed. 
 
 " There is a purse in the middle drawer, Do you 
 see it?" 
 
 " Yes, here it is." 
 
 " Keep it, I beg of you. It contains a sum of money 
 which I have a perfect right to dispose of. It will at 
 least save the young girl I commended to your care 
 from want. Only promise me," continued the poor 
 mother, her voice becoming more and more feeble each 
 moment, " promise me that you will never mention my 
 name to to this orphan nor tell her who it was that 
 asked you to place this money in her hands. But tell 
 her, oh, tell this unfortunate child that she was tenderly 
 loved until the last, and that that it was absolutely 
 necessary " 
 
 The countess was so weak now that the conclusion of 
 the sentence was inaudible. 
 
 " But this purse to whom am I to give it, madame ? 
 Where shall I find this young girl, and what is her 
 name ? " exclaimed M. de Maillefort, alarmed by the 
 sudden change in Madame de Beaumesnil's condition, 
 and by her laboured breathing. 
 
 But instead of answering M. de Maillefort's question 
 Madame de Beaumesnil sank back on her pillows with 
 
 113
 
 PRIDE. 
 
 a despairing moan, and clasped her hands upon her 
 breast. 
 
 " Speak to me, madame," cried the marquis, bending 
 over the countess in the utmost terror and alarm. 
 " This young girl, tell me where I can find her, and who 
 she is." 
 
 " I am dying dying " murmured Madame de 
 Beaumesnil, lifting her eyes heavenward. 
 
 Then with a last supreme effort, she faltered : 
 
 "Don't forget your promise my child the 
 orphan ! " 
 
 In another moment the countess was no more ; and 
 M. de Maillefort, overcome with grief and chagrin, could 
 no longer doubt that this orphan, whose name and place 
 of abode were alike unknown to him, was Madame de 
 BeaumesniPs illegitimate child. 
 
 The funeral rites of Madame de Beaumesnil were 
 conducted with great splendour. 
 
 The Baron de la Rochaigue acted as chief mourner. 
 M. de Maillefort, invited by letter to take part in the 
 ceremonial, joined the funeral cortege. 
 
 In an obscure corner of the church, kneeling as if 
 crushed by the weight of her despair, a young girl 
 prayed and sobbed, unheeded by any one. 
 
 It was Herminie. 
 
 114
 
 CHAPTER XH. 
 
 A VAIN INTERVIEW. 
 
 SEVEKAL days after Madame de Beaumesnil's funeral, 
 M. de Maillefort, arousing himself from the gloomy 
 lethargy into which the death of the countess had 
 plunged him, resolved to carry out that unfortunate 
 lady's last wishes in regard to the unknown orphan, 
 though he fully realised all the difficulties of the 
 mission intrusted to him. 
 
 How should he go to work to find the young girl 
 whom Madame de Beaumesnil had so urgently com- 
 mended to his care ? 
 
 To whom could he apply for information that would 
 give him the necessary clue to her identity ? 
 
 Above all, how could he secure this information with- 
 out compromising Madame de Beaumesnil's good name 
 and the secrecy with which she had wished him to 
 carry out her intentions with regard to this mysterious 
 daughter, her illegitimate child, as M. de Maillefort 
 could no longer doubt. 
 
 The hunchback recollected that on the evening of her 
 death the countess had sent a confidential servant to 
 beg him to come to the H6tel de Beaumesnil without 
 delay. 
 
 "This woman has been in Madame de Beaumesnil's 
 service a long time," thought the marquis. " She may 
 be able to give me some information." 
 
 115
 
 PRIDE. 
 
 So M. de Maillefort's valet, a trustworthy and devoted 
 man, was sent to bring Madame Dupont to the house of 
 the marquis. 
 
 " I know how devotedly you were attached to your 
 mistress, my dear Madame Dupont," the marquis began. 
 
 " Ah, monsieur, madame la comtesse was so good 
 and kind ! " exclaimed Madame Dupont, bursting into 
 tears. " How could one help being devoted to her in 
 life and in death ? " 
 
 " It is because I am so sure of this devotion, as well 
 as of your respect for the memory of your deceased 
 mistress, that I requested you to come to my house, my 
 dear Madame Dupont. I wish to speak to you on a very 
 delicate subject." 
 
 " I am listening, M. le marquis." 
 
 " The proof of confidence which Madame de Beaumes- 
 nil gave by sending for me just before her death must 
 convince you that any questions I may put to you are of 
 an almost sacred nature, so I can safely count upon your 
 frankness and discretion." 
 
 " You can, indeed, M. le marquis." 
 
 " I am sure of it. Now the state of affairs is just this : 
 Madame de Beaumesnil has for a long time, as nearly 
 as I can learn, at the request of a friend, taken 
 charge of a young orphan girl who, by the death of her 
 protectress, is now deprived of the means of support. I 
 am ignorant of this young girl's name, as well as of her 
 place of residence, and I am anxious to ascertain both as 
 soon as possible. Can you give me any information on 
 the subject?" 
 
 " A young orphan girl ? " repeated Madame Dupont, 
 thoughtfully. 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 " During the ten years I have been in the service of 
 madame la comtesse, I have never known any young 
 girl who came regularly to the house or who seemed to 
 be a prote'ge'e of hers." 
 
 116
 
 A VAIN INTERVIEW. 
 
 " Are you sure ? " 
 
 " Perfectly sure, M. le marquis." 
 
 "And Madame de Beaumesnil never entrusted you 
 with any commission in connection with the young girl 
 of whom I speak ? " 
 
 " Never, M. le marquis. Many persons applied to 
 madame for aid, for she was very liberal, but I never 
 noticed that she gave any particular person the prefer- 
 ence or interested herself any more in one person than 
 in another, and I feel sure that if madame had wished 
 any confidential mission performed, she would certainly 
 have entrusted it to me." 
 
 " That is exactly what I thought, and it was for that 
 very reason I felt confident of securing some information 
 from you. Come now, try and think if you can not 
 remember some young girl in whom Madame de Beau- 
 mesnil has seemed to take a special interest for some 
 time past." 
 
 " I can remember no one, absolutely no one," answered 
 Madame Dupont after several minutes of profound re- 
 flection. 
 
 The thought of Herminie did occur to her, but was 
 instantly dismissed, for there had been nothing in Ma- 
 dame de Beaumesnil's manner towards the young musi- 
 cian that indicated any special interest ; besides, she and 
 the countess had met for the first time less than a 
 fortnight before the latter's death, while the marquis 
 declared that the young girl of whom he was in search 
 had been under Madame de Beaumesnil's protection for 
 a long tune. 
 
 "Then I must endeavour to secure my information 
 elsewhere," said the marquis, with a sigh. 
 
 " Wait a moment, M. le marquis," exclaimed Madame 
 Dupont. " What I am going to tell you may have no 
 connection with the young girl of whom you speak, but 
 it will do no harm to mention it." 
 
 " Let me hear what it is." 
 
 117
 
 PRIDE. 
 
 " The day before her death, madame la comtesse sent 
 for me, and said : ' Take a cab and carry this letter to a 
 woman who lives in the Batignolles. Do not tell her 
 who sent you, but bring her back with you, and show 
 her up to my room immediately upon her arrival.' " 
 
 " And this woman's name ? " 
 
 " Was a very peculiar one, M. le marquis, and I have 
 not forgotten it. She is called Madame Barbai^on." 
 
 " Was she a frequent visitor at Madame de Beaumes- 
 nil's house?" 
 
 " She was never there except that once." 
 
 " And did you bring this woman to Madame de Beau- 
 mesnil's?" 
 
 " I did not." 
 
 " How was that ? " 
 
 " After giving me the order I just spoke of, madame 
 seemed to change her mind, for she said to me : ' All 
 things considered, Madame Dupont, you had better not 
 take a cab. It would give the affair an air of mystery. 
 Order out the carriage, give this letter to the footman, 
 and tell him to deliver it to the person to whom it is 
 addressed.' " 
 
 " And he found the woman ? " 
 
 " Yes, M. le marquis." 
 
 " And did Madame de Beaumesnil have a conversation 
 with her?" 
 
 " The interview lasted at least two hours, M. le 
 marquis." 
 
 " How old was this woman ? " 
 
 "Fifty years of age at the very least, and a very 
 ordinary person." 
 
 " And after her interview with the countess ? " 
 
 " She was taken back to her home in madame's car- 
 riage." 
 
 v "And you say she has never been at the Hotel de 
 Beaumesnil since ? " 
 
 " No, M. le marquis." 
 
 118
 
 A VAIN INTERVIEW. 
 
 After remaining silent for some time, the hunchback 
 turned to Madame Dupont, and asked : 
 
 " What did you say this woman's name was ? " 
 
 " Madame Barbanc,on." 
 
 The hunchback wrote down the name in his note-book, 
 then asked : 
 
 " And she lives where ? " 
 
 " In the Batignolles." 
 
 " The street and number, if you please." 
 
 " I do not know, M. le marquis. I only remember 
 that the footman told us that the house where she lived 
 was in a very quiet street, and that there was a garden, 
 into which one could look through a small latticed 
 gate." 
 
 The hunchback, after jotting down these items in his 
 note-book, said : 
 
 " I thank you very much for this information, though 
 it may be of little or no assistance to me in my search. 
 If you should at any time recall other facts which you 
 think may be of service, I hope you will notify me at 
 once." 
 
 " I will not fail to do so, M. le marquis." 
 
 M. de Maillefort, having rewarded Madame Dupont 
 handsomely, called a cab and ordered the coachman to 
 drive him to the Batignolles. 
 
 After two hours of persistent inquiry and assiduous 
 search the marquis at last discovered Commander Ber- 
 nard's house, where he found only Madame Barbanc,on at 
 home. 
 
 Olivier had left Paris several days before in company 
 with his master mason, and the veteran had just gone 
 out for his daily walk. 
 
 The housekeeper on opening the door was so unpleas- 
 antly impressed by the visitor's deformity, that, instead 
 of inviting him in, she remained standing upon the 
 threshold, thus barring M. de Maillefort's passage. 
 
 That gentleman, noting the unfavourable impression 
 
 119
 
 PRIDE. 
 
 he was making upon the housekeeper, bowed very 
 politely, and said : 
 
 "Have I the honour of speaking to Madame Bar- 
 banc,on ? " 
 
 "Yes, monsieur; and what do you want of Madame 
 Barbangon ? " 
 
 " I am desirous that you should grant me the honour 
 of a few minutes' conversation." 
 
 "And why, monsieur?" demanded the housekeeper, 
 eyeing the stranger distrustfully. 
 
 " I wish to confer with you, madame, on a very impor- 
 tant matter." 
 
 " But I do not even know you." 
 
 " I have the advantage of knowing you, though only 
 by name, it is true." 
 
 " A fine story that ! I, too, know the Grand Turk by 
 name." 
 
 " My dear Madame Barban^on, will you permit me 
 to say that we could talk very much more at our ease 
 inside, than out here on the doorstep." 
 
 " I only care to be at ease with persons I like, mon- 
 sieur," retorted the housekeeper, tartly. 
 
 " I can understand your distrust, my dear madame," 
 replied the marquis, concealing his impatience, " so I 
 will vouch for myself by a name that is not entirely 
 unknown to you." 
 
 " What name is that ? " 
 
 " That of Madame la Comtesse de Beaumesnil." 
 
 " Do you come at her request, monsieur ? " asked the 
 housekeeper, quickly. 
 
 "At her request? No, madame," sadly replied the 
 hunchback, shaking his head, " Madame de Beaumesnil 
 is dead." 
 
 " Dead ! And when did the poor, dear lady die ? " 
 
 " Let us step inside and I will then answer your ques- 
 tion," said the marquis, in an authoritative manner 
 that rather awed Madame Barbanon ; besides, she was 
 
 120
 
 A VAIN INTERVIEW. 
 
 very anxious to hear the particulars of Madame de 
 Beaumesnil's death. 
 
 " And you say that Madame de Beaumesnil is dead ? " 
 exclaimed the housekeeper, as soon as they had entered 
 the house. 
 
 " She died several days ago the very next day after 
 her interview with you." 
 
 " What, monsieur, you know ? " 
 
 " I know that Madame de Beaumesnil had a long con- 
 versation with you, and I am fulfilling her last wishes in 
 asking you to accept these twenty-five napoleons from 
 her." 
 
 And the hunchback showed Madame Barban^on a 
 small silk purse filled with shining gold. 
 
 The words " twenty-five napoleons " grievously of- 
 fended the housekeeper's ears. Had the marquis said 
 twenty-five louis the effect would probably have been 
 entirely different. 
 
 So instead of taking the proffered gold, Madame Bar- 
 bangon, feeling all her former doubts revive, answered 
 majestically, as she waved aside the purse with an ex- 
 pression of superb disdain : 
 
 " I do not accept napoleons," accenting the detested 
 name strongly ; " no, I do not accept napoleons from 
 the first person that happens to come along without 
 knowing do you understand, monsieur ? " 
 
 " Without knowing what, my dear madame ? " 
 
 " Without knowing who these people are who say 
 napoleons as if it would scorch their mouths if they 
 should utter the word louis. But it is all plain enough 
 now," she added, sardonically. " Tell me who you go 
 with and I will tell you who you are. Now what do 
 you want with me ? I have my soup pot to watch." 
 
 " As I told you before, madame, I came to bring you 
 a slight token of Madame de BeaumesniFs gratitude for 
 the discretion and reserve you displayed in a certain 
 affair." 
 
 121
 
 PRIDE. 
 
 What affair ? " 
 
 " You know very well." 
 
 " I haven't the slightest idea what you mean." 
 
 " Come, come, my dear Madame Barbanc,on, why will 
 you not be perfectly frank with me ? I was one of 
 Madame de Beaumesnil's most intimate friends, and I 
 know all about that orphan you know that orphan." 
 
 That orphan ? " 
 
 " Yes, that young girl, I need say no more. You see 
 I know all about it." 
 
 " Then if you know all about it, why do you come here 
 to question me ? " 
 
 " I come in the interest of the young girl you know 
 who I mean to ask you to give me her address, as 
 I have a very important communication to make to 
 her." 
 
 "Really?" 
 
 Really." 
 
 "Well, well, did anybody ever hear the equal of 
 that ? " snorted the housekeeper, indignantly. 
 
 " But my dear Madame Barban9on, what is there so 
 very extraordinary in what I am saying to you ? " 
 
 " This," yelled the housekeeper, " this that you are 
 nothing more or less than a miserable old roue* ! " 
 
 " I ? " 
 
 "Yes, a miserable scoundrel who is trying to bribe 
 me, and make me blab all I know by promises of gold." 
 
 " But, my dear madame, I assure you 
 
 " But understand me once for all : if that hump of 
 yours was stuffed with napoleons, and you authorised me 
 to help myself to all I wanted, I wouldn't tell you a word 
 more than I chose to. That is the kind of a woman I 
 am!" 
 
 " But, Madame Barban^on, do pray listen to me. You 
 are a worthy and honest woman." 
 
 " Yes, I flatter myself that I am." 
 
 " And very justly, I am sure. That being the case, if 
 
 122
 
 A TAIN INTERVIEW. 
 
 you would only hear me to the end you would answer 
 very differently, I am sure, for " 
 
 " I should do nothing of the kind. Oh, I understand, 
 you came here intending to pump me and get all you 
 could out of me, but, thank Heaven, I was smart enough 
 to see through you from the very first, and now I tell 
 you once for all you had better let me alone." 
 
 " But one word, I beg, my dear friend," pleaded the 
 marquis, trying to take his irascible companion's hand. 
 
 " Don't touch me, you vile libertine," shrieked the 
 housekeeper, springing back in prudish terror. " I know 
 you now for the serpent that you are ! First it was 
 * madame,' and then ' my dear madame,' and now ' my 
 dear friend,' and you'll wind up with 'my treasure,' I 
 suppose ! " 
 
 " But Madame BarbanQon, I do assure you " 
 
 " I have always heard it said that humpbacked people 
 were worse than monkeys," exclaimed the housekeeper, 
 recoiling still further. " If you don't take yourself off, 
 sir, and at once, I'll call the neighbours; I'll yell for 
 the police ; I'll cry fire ! " 
 
 " You must be crazy, woman," exclaimed the marquis, 
 exasperated by the complete failure of his efforts so far 
 as Madame Barbanc,on was concerned. " What the 
 devil do you mean by all this pretended indignation and 
 prudery ? You are very nearly as ugly as I am, and we 
 are not calculated to tempt each other. I say once 
 more, and for the last time, and you had better weigh 
 my words well, I came here in the hope of being of 
 assistance to a poor and worthy young girl whom you 
 must know. And if you do know her, you are doing 
 her an irreparable wrong do you understand me ? 
 by refusing to tell me where she is and to assist me in 
 finding her. Consider well the future of this young 
 girl is in your hands, and I am sure you are really too 
 kind-hearted to wish to injure a worthy girl who has 
 never harmed you." 
 
 123
 
 PRIDE. 
 
 M. de Maillefort spoke with so much feeling, his 
 tone was so earnest and sincere, that Madame Barbanc,on 
 began to feel that there was really no just cause for her 
 distrust, after all. 
 
 " Well, monsieur, I may have been mistaken in think- 
 ing that you were trying to make love to me," she 
 began. 
 
 " You certainly were." 
 
 " But as for telling you anything I oughtn't to tell 
 you, you won't make me do that, however hard you may 
 try. It is quite possible that you're a respectable man, 
 and that your intentions are good, but I'm an honest 
 woman, too, and I know what I ought and what I ought 
 not to tell ; so, though you might cut me in pieces, you 
 wouldn't get a treacherous word out of me. That is 
 the kind of a woman I am ! " 
 
 " Where the devil can one hope to find a woman of 
 sense ? " M. de Maillefort said to himself as he left 
 Madame Barban^on, quite despairing of getting any 
 information out of the worthy housekeeper, and realising 
 only too well the futility of his first efforts to discover 
 Madame de Beaumesnil's illegitimate child. 
 
 124
 
 CHAPTER Xin. 
 
 UNEXPECTED CONSOLATION. 
 
 Two months had elapsed since the death of Madame 
 de Beaumesnil, and great activity reigned in the house 
 of M. le Baron de la Rochaigue, who had been appointed 
 guardian of Ernestine de Beaumesnil at a family council 
 convoked shortly after the demise of the countess. 
 
 The servants of the household were hurrying to and 
 fro arranging articles of furniture, under the superin- 
 tendence of the baron, his wife, and his sister, Mile. 
 Helena de la Rochaigue, an old maid about forty-five 
 years of age, whose plain black dress, downcast eyes, 
 white, pinched face, and severely arranged white hair 
 made her look very much like a religieuse, though she 
 had never taken monastic vows. 
 
 M. de la Rochaigue, a very tall, thin man, between 
 sixty and seventy years of age, was quite bald. He had 
 a receding forehead and chin, prominent blue eyes, and 
 a long nose. His lips were wreathed in a perpetual 
 smile, which displayed exceedingly white, but unusually 
 long, teeth, that imparted a decidedly sheep-like charac- 
 ter to his physiognomy. He had an excellent figure, 
 and by holding himself rigidly erect and buttoning his 
 long black coat straight up to his white cravat, he 
 managed to make himself a living copy of the portrait 
 of Canning, "the perfect type of a gentleman states- 
 man," as the baron often remarked. 
 
 M. de la Rochaigue was not a statesman, however, 
 though he had long aspired to become one. In fact, 
 
 125
 
 PRIDE. 
 
 this ambition had developed into a sort of mania with 
 him. Believing himself an unknown Canning, and being 
 unable to air his eloquence in the councils of the nation, 
 he took advantage of each and every opportunity to 
 make a speech, and always assumed a parliamentary 
 tone and attitude in discussing the most trivial matter. 
 
 One of the most salient characteristics of the baron's 
 oratory was a redundancy of adjectives and adverbs, 
 which seemed to him to treble the effect of his finest 
 thoughts, though if we might venture to adopt the 
 baron's phraseology, we could truly say that nothing 
 could be more insignificant, more commonplace, and 
 more void of meaning than what he styled his thoughts. 
 
 Madame de la Rochaigue, who was now about forty- 
 five, had been extremely pretty, coquettish, and charm- 
 ing. Her figure was still slender and graceful, but the 
 youthfulness and elaborateness of her toilets seemed 
 ill-suited to one of her mature years. 
 
 The baroness was passionately fond of luxury and 
 display. There was nothing that she loved better than 
 to organise and preside at magnificent entertainments, 
 but unfortunately, her fortune, though considerable, did 
 not correspond with her very expensive tastes. Besides, 
 she had no intention of impoverishing herself ; so being 
 an extremely shrewd and economical woman, she man- 
 aged to enjoy the prestige which lavish expenditure 
 imparts to one by frequently acting as the patroness of 
 the many obscure but enormously rich foreigners or 
 provincials meteors who, after dazzling Paris a 
 few years, vanish for ever in darkness and oblivion. 
 
 Madame de la Rochaigue in such cases did not allow 
 her prote'ge's the slightest liberty, even in the selection 
 of their guests. She gave them a list of the persons 
 they were to entertain, not even granting them permis- 
 sion to invite such of their friends or compatriots as she 
 did not consider worthy to appear in aristocratic society. 
 
 The baroness, holding a high social position herself, 
 126
 
 UNEXPECTED CONSOLATION. 
 
 could easily launch her clients in the best society, but in 
 the meantime she was really the mistress of their house. 
 It was she alone who planned their entertainments, and 
 it was to her that persons applied for a place on the 
 list of guests bidden to these sumptuous and exclusive 
 reunions. 
 
 It is needless to say that she considered a box at 
 the opera and other fashionable places of amusement 
 an absolute necessity, and, in this box, the best seat 
 was always reserved for her. It was the same at the 
 races, and in the frequent visits to the seashore and 
 other fashionable watering-places. Her protege's rented 
 a house, and sent down chefs, servants, and horses and 
 carriages, and in these admirably appointed establish- 
 ments Madame de la Rochaigue kept open house for her 
 friends. 
 
 So insatiable is the longing for pleasure in society, 
 even the most fashionable society, that, instead of revolt- 
 ing at the idea of a woman of noble birth devoting her- 
 self to the shameful robbing of these unfortunate people 
 whose foolish vanity was leading them on to ruin, society 
 flattered Madame de la Rochaigue, the dispenser of all 
 this lavish hospitality, and the lady herself was not a 
 little proud of the advantages she derived from her 
 patronage ; besides being clever, witty, shrewd, and 
 remarkably self-possessed, Madame de la Rochaigue was 
 one of the seven or eight brilliant women who exerted 
 a real influence over what is known as Parisian society. 
 
 The three persons above referred to were engaged 
 in adding the finishing touches to a spacious suite of 
 superbly appointed apartments that occupied the entire 
 first floor of a mansion in the Faubourg St. Germain. 
 
 M. and Madame de la Rochaigue had relinquished 
 these rooms and established themselves on the second 
 floor, a part of which was occupied by Mile, de la 
 Rochaigue, while the rest had heretofore served as 
 quarters for the baron's daughter and son-in-law, when 
 
 127
 
 PRIDE. 
 
 they left their estates, where they resided most of the 
 year, for a two months' sojourn in Paris. 
 
 These formerly rather dilapidated and very parsimoni- 
 ously furnished apartments had been entirely renovated 
 and superbly decorated for Mile. Ernestine de Beaumes- 
 nil, whose health had become sufficiently restored to 
 admit of her return to France, and who was expected 
 to arrive from Italy that very day, accompanied by her 
 governess, and a sort of steward or courier whom M. de 
 la Rochaigue had despatched to Naples to bring the 
 orphan home. 
 
 The extreme care which the baron and his wife and 
 sister were bestowing on the arrangement of the rooms 
 was almost ludicrous, so plainly did it show the intense 
 eagerness and obsequiousness with which Mile, de Beau- 
 mesnil was awaited, though there was something almost 
 depressing in the thought that all this splendour was for 
 a mere child of sixteen, who seemed likely to be almost 
 lost in these immense rooms. 
 
 After a final survey of the apartments, M. de la 
 Rochaigue summoned all the servants, and, seeing a fine 
 opportunity for a speech, uttered the following memo- 
 rable words with all his wonted majesty of demeanour : 
 
 " I here assemble my people together, to say, declare, 
 and signify to them that Mile, de Beaumesnil, my cousin 
 and ward, is expected to arrive this evening. I desire 
 also to say to them that Madame de la Rochaigue and 
 myself intend, desire, and wish that our people should 
 obey Mile, de Beaumesnil's orders even more scrupu- 
 lously than our own. In other words, I desire to say 
 to our people that anything and everything Mile, de 
 Beaumesnil may say, order, or command, they are to 
 obey as implicitly, unhesitatingly, and blindly as if the 
 order had been given by Madame de la Rochaigue or 
 myself. I count upon the zeal, intelligence, and ex- 
 actitude of my people in this particular, and we shall 
 reward handsomely all who manifest hearty good-will, 
 
 128
 
 UNEXPECTED CONSOLATION. 
 
 solicitude, and unremitting zeal in Mile, de Beaumesnil's 
 service." 
 
 After this eloquent adjuration the servants were dis- 
 missed, and the cooks were ordered to have everything 
 in readiness to serve either a hot or cold repast in case 
 Mile, de Beaumesnil should desire something to eat on 
 her arrival. 
 
 These preparations concluded, Madame de la Rochai- 
 gue suggested to her husband that they go up to their 
 own apartments. 
 
 " I was about to make the same proposition to you," 
 responded M. de la Rochaigue, smiling, and showing his 
 long teeth with the most affable air imaginable. 
 
 As the baron and baroness and Mile, de la Rochai- 
 gue were leaving the apartment, a servant stepped up to 
 M. de la Rochaigue, and said : 
 
 " There is a young woman here who wishes to speak 
 with madame." 
 
 Who is she ? " 
 
 " She did not give her name. She came to return 
 something belonging to the late Comtesse de Beau- 
 mesnil." 
 
 " Admit her," said the baroness. 
 
 Then, turning to her husband and sister-in-law, she 
 said: 
 
 " I wonder who it can be ? " 
 
 " I haven't the slightest idea, but we shall soon 
 know." 
 
 " Some claim on the estate, probably," remarked the 
 baroness. " It should have been sent to the notary." 
 
 Almost at the same instant the servant opened the 
 door, and announced : 
 
 " Mademoiselle Herminie." 
 
 Though beautiful under any and all circumstances, 
 the lovely face of the " duchess," wan from the profound 
 grief caused by the death of her mother, wore an expres- 
 sion of intense sadness. Her lovely golden hair, which 
 
 129
 
 PRIDE. 
 
 she usually wore in long curls, was wound smoothly 
 around her head, for, in her bitter sorrow, the poor child 
 for the last two months had entirely forgotten the inno- 
 cent vanities of youth. Another trivial but highly sig- 
 nificant detail, Herminie's white and beautifully shaped 
 hands were bare ; the shabby little gloves so often and 
 carefully mended were no longer wearable, and her 
 increasing poverty would not permit her to purchase 
 others. 
 
 Yes, her poverty, for, wounded to the heart by her 
 mother's death, and dangerously ill for six weeks, the 
 young girl had been unable to give the music lessons 
 which were her only means of support, and her little 
 store of savings had been swallowed up in the expenses 
 of her illness, so, while waiting for the pay for the lessons 
 resumed only a few days before, Herminie had been 
 obliged to pawn some silver purchased in an hour of 
 affluence, and on the paltry sum thus obtained she was 
 now living with a parsimony which want alone can 
 teach. 
 
 On seeing this pale but beautiful girl, whose clothing 
 indicated extreme poverty, in spite of its scrupulous 
 neatness, the baron and his wife exchanged glances of 
 surprise. 
 
 " I am Madame de la Rochaigue, mademoiselle," said 
 the baroness. " What can I do for you ? " 
 
 " I came, madame, to rectify a mistake," replied Her- 
 minie, blushing deeply, " and return this five hundred 
 franc note which was sent to me by by the late 
 Madame de Beaumesnil's notary." 
 
 In spite of her courage, Herminie felt the tears rush 
 to her eyes on uttering her mother's name, but making a 
 violent effort to conquer her emotion, she held out the 
 bank-note enclosed in an envelope, bearing this address : 
 
 For Mile. Herminie, 
 
 Singing Teacher. 
 130
 
 "SHE HKLD OUT THE HANK - NOTE."
 
 UNEXPECTED CONSOLATION. 
 
 " Ah, yes, it was you, mademoiselle, who used to play 
 and sing for Madame de Beaumesnil." 
 
 " Yes, madame." 
 
 " I recollect now that the family council decided that 
 five hundred francs should be sent to you for your ser- 
 vices. It was considered that this amount " 
 
 " Would be a suitable, sufficient, and satisfactory 
 remuneration," added the baron, sententiously. 
 
 " And if it is not, the complaint should be made to 
 the notary, not to us," added the baroness. 
 
 " I have come, madame," said Herminie, gently but 
 proudly, " to return the money. I have been paid." 
 
 No one present realised or could realise the bitter 
 sorrow hidden in these words: 
 
 " I have been paid." 
 
 But Herminie's dignity and disinterestedness, a dis- 
 interestedness which the shabby garments of the young 
 girl rendered the more remarkable, made a deep impres- 
 sion on Madame de la Rochaigue, and she said : 
 
 " Really, mademoiselle, I can not praise too highly 
 this delicacy and keen sense of honour on your part. 
 The family did not know that you had been paid, but," 
 added the baroness, hesitatingly, for Herminie's air of 
 quiet dignity impressed her not a little, " but I I 
 feel that I may, in the name of the family, beg you to 
 keep this five hundred francs as as a gift." 
 
 And the baroness held out the bank-note to the young 
 girl, casting another quick glance at her shabby garments 
 as she did so. 
 
 Again a blush of wounded pride mounted to Herminie's 
 brow, but it is impossible to describe the perfect courtesy 
 and proud simplicity with which the girl replied : 
 
 " Will you, madame, kindly reserve this generous gift 
 for the many persons who must appeal to you for 
 charity." 
 
 Then, without another word, Herminie bowed to Ma- 
 dame de la Rochaigue, and turned towards the door. 
 
 131
 
 PRIDE. 
 
 " Excuse me, mademoiselle," cried the baroness, " one 
 word more, just one." 
 
 The young girl, unable to entirely conceal the tears 
 of humiliation repressed with such difficulty until now, 
 turned, and said to Madame de la Rochaigue, who seemed 
 to have been suddenly struck with a new idea : 
 
 " What do you wish, madame ? " 
 
 " I must ask you first to pardon an insistence which 
 seems to have wounded your delicacy, and made you 
 think, perhaps, that I wished to humiliate you, but I 
 assure you " 
 
 " I never suppose that any one desires to humiliate 
 me, madame," replied Herminie, gently and firmly, but 
 without allowing Madame de la Rochaigue to finish her 
 sentence. 
 
 "And you are right, mademoiselle," responded the 
 baroness, " for it is an entirely different sentiment that 
 you inspire. Now, I have a service, I might even say a 
 favour, to ask of you." 
 
 "Of me?" 
 
 "Do you still give piano lessons, mademoiselle ? " 
 
 " Yes, madame." 
 
 " M. de la Rochaigue," said the baroness, pointing to 
 her husband, who was smiling according to his custom, 
 " is the guardian of Mile, de Beaumesnil, who is expected 
 to arrive here this evening." 
 
 " Mile, de Beaumesnil ! " exclaimed Herminie, with a 
 violent start ; " she is coming here to-day ? " 
 
 " As madame has just had the honour to say to you, 
 we expect Mile, de Beaumesnil, my much loved cousin 
 and ward, will arrive this evening," said the baron. 
 " These apartments are intended for her," he added, cast- 
 ing a complacent glance around the magnificent room, 
 " apartments worthy in every respect of the richest 
 heiress in France, for whom nothing is too good " 
 
 But the baroness, unceremoniously interrupting her 
 husband, said to Herminie : 
 
 132
 
 UNEXPECTED CONSOLATION. 
 
 " Mile, de Beaumesnil is only sixteen, and her edu- 
 cation is not yet entirely completed. She will need 
 instruction in several branches, and if you can make 
 it convenient to give Mile, de Beaumesnil lessons 
 in music we should be delighted to entrust her to 
 you." 
 
 Though the possibility of such an offer had gradually 
 dawned upon Herminie's mind as the baroness proceeded, 
 the thought that a most lucky chance was about to bring 
 her in contact with her sister so overcame her that she 
 would doubtless have betrayed herself if the baron, eager 
 to improve this fresh opportunity to pose as an orator, 
 had not slipped his left hand in the breast of his tightly 
 buttoned coat, and, with his right hand oscillating like a 
 pendulum, said : 
 
 " Mademoiselle, though we feel it a sacred duty to 
 select our dear ward's instructors with the most 
 scrupulous care, it is also an infinite satisfaction, pleas- 
 ure, and happiness to us to occasionally meet persons, 
 who, like yourself, are endowed with all the necessary 
 attributes for the noble vocation to which they have 
 dedicated themselves in the sacred interest of edu- 
 cation." 
 
 This speech, or rather this tirade, which the baron 
 uttered in a single breath, fortunately afforded Her- 
 minie time to recover her composure, and it was with 
 comparative calmness that she turned to Madame de la 
 Rochaigue, and said : 
 
 " I am deeply touched, madame, by the confidence 
 you manifest in me. I shall try to prove that I am 
 worthy of it." 
 
 " Very well, mademoiselle, as you accept my offer I 
 will notify you as soon as Mile, de Beaumesnil is ready 
 to begin her lessons, for she will probably need several 
 days in which to recover from the fatigue of her 
 journey." 
 
 " I will wait, then, until I hear from you before com- 
 
 133
 
 PRIDE. 
 
 ing to Mile, de Beaumesnil," said Herminie. Then she 
 bowed and withdrew. 
 
 It was in an ecstasy of delight that the girl returned 
 to her humble home. 
 
 Delicacy, a truly laudable pride, and filial love of the 
 purest and most elevated kind would prevent Herminie 
 from ever revealing to her sister the bond of union 
 between them, even as these same sentiments had given 
 her strength to keep silence before Madame de Beau- 
 mesnil ; but the prospect of this speedy meeting plunged 
 the young artiste into a transport of delight, and brought 
 her the most unexpected consolation. 
 
 Moreover, her natural sagacity, together with a vague 
 distrust of both M. and Madame de la Rochaigue, whom 
 she had just seen for the first time, told Herminie that 
 this child of sixteen summers, this sister whom she 
 loved without even knowing her, should have been en- 
 trusted to the care of very different persons ; and if her 
 expectations did not deceive her, the affection she hoped 
 to arouse in her sister's heart might be made to exert a 
 very beneficial influence. 
 
 It is almost unnecessary to say that, in spite of her 
 very straitened circumstances, it never once occurred to 
 Herminie to compare the almost fabulous wealth of her 
 sister with her own condition, which was that of a poor 
 artiste exposed to all the trying vicissitudes of sickness 
 and poverty. 
 
 Proud and generous natures diffuse around them a 
 radiance which not unfrequently melts even the thick 
 ice of selfishness and egotism, as in the preceding inter- 
 view, when Herminie's dignity, exquisite grace, and sim- 
 plicity of manner had awakened so much interest and 
 extorted such respect from M. and Madame de la Rochai- 
 gue, worldly-minded and unsympathising though they 
 W ere, that they had entirely of their own accord 
 made the young girl the offer that so rejoiced her 
 heart. 
 
 134
 
 UNEXPECTED CONSOLATION. 
 
 The baron and his wife and sister, left alone after 
 Herminie's departure, went up to their own apartments 
 to hold a conference on the subject of Ernestine de 
 Beaumesnil's arrival and the tactics that should be pur- 
 sued. 
 
 135
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 THE SOLEMN COMPACT. 
 
 THEY had scarcely reached the drawing-room on the 
 floor above before Helena de la Rochaigue, who had 
 seemed very thoughtful ever since Herminie's arrival, 
 remarked to the baroness : 
 
 " I think, sister, that you did wrong to select that 
 girl for Ernestine's music-teacher." 
 
 " Wrong ? And why ? " demanded the baroness. 
 
 "The girl seems to me to be very proud," replied 
 Helena, placidly. " Did you notice how haughtily she 
 returned that bank-note, though the shabbiness of her 
 clothing showed conclusively that she was in great 
 need?" 
 
 "It was that very thing that influenced me," an- 
 swered the baroness. " There is something so interest- 
 ing in such a proud refusal on the part of a poor person ; 
 besides, this young girl had such a charming dignity of 
 manner that I was forced, even against my better judg- 
 ment, to make her the offer you censure, my dear 
 sister." 
 
 " Pride should never be considered other than repre- 
 hensible," said Helena, sanctimoniously. " It is the worst 
 of the seven great sins. Pride is the exact opposite of 
 Christian humility, without which there is no salvation," 
 she added, " and I fear this girl will exert a most per- 
 nicious influence over Ernestine de Beaumesnil." 
 
 Madame de la Rochaigue smiled faintly as she stole 
 136
 
 THE SOLEMN COMPACT. 
 
 a furtive glance at her husband, who gave a slight shrug 
 of the shoulders, which indicated pretty plainly how 
 little respect he felt for Helena's opinions. 
 
 Long accustomed to regard this devotee as a nonen- 
 tity, the baron and his wife never for a moment supposed 
 that this narrow-minded, bigoted old maid, who never 
 lost her temper, no matter how great the provocation 
 might be, and who did not utter a dozen words in the 
 course of a day, could ever have a thought beyond those 
 connected with the performance of her religious duties. 
 
 " We will think over your suggestion, my dear sister," 
 said the baroness, suavely. " After all, we have made 
 no binding contract with this young person. Your 
 remarks, however, seem to form a natural introduction 
 to the subject of this conference." 
 
 Instantly the baron sprang up, and turned his chair 
 around so he could rest his hands upon the back of it, 
 and also ensure himself the ample space which his par- 
 liamentary attitudes and oratorical gestures demanded. 
 Already, slipping his hand in the breast of his coat, and 
 swaying his right arm to and fro, he was preparing to 
 speak, when his wife said, impatiently : 
 
 " Pardon me, M. de la Rochaigue, but you must really 
 do me the favour to let your chair alone and sit down. 
 You can express your opinion without any flights of 
 oratory. It will be much better to talk this matter over 
 in a plain matter-of-fact way without indulging in any 
 perorations. Reserve your oratorical powers for the 
 tribune which you are sure to reach sooner or later, and 
 resign yourself to-day to talking like a man of tact and 
 common sense. If you do not, I shall interrupt you 
 every other minute." 
 
 The baron knew by experience how deeply his wife 
 loathed a speech, so he turned his chair around again 
 and subsided into it with a sigh. 
 
 " Ernestine will arrive this evening, so we must decide 
 upon the course we are to pursue," began the baroness. 
 
 137
 
 PRIDE. 
 
 " Yes, that is absolutely necessary," replied the baron, 
 "for everything depends upon our harmonious action. 
 We must have the blindest, most entire, most implicit 
 confidence in each other." 
 
 " Otherwise we shall lose all the advantages we ought 
 to derive from this guardianship," added the baroness. 
 
 " For of course one does not act as guardian merely 
 for the pleasure of it," interpolated the baron. 
 
 " On the contrary, we ought to derive both pleasure 
 and profit from the connection," said the baroness. 
 
 " That is precisely what I meant," retorted the baron. 
 
 " I do not doubt it," replied the baroness. Then she 
 added: "Let us agree in the first place that, in all 
 matters relating to Ernestine, we will never act without 
 a full understanding with one another." 
 
 " That resolution is adopted ! " cried the baron. 
 
 " And is eminently just," remarked Helena. 
 
 "As we long ago broke off all connection with the 
 Comtesse de Beaumesnil, a woman I never could tol- 
 erate," continued the baroness, " we know absolutely 
 nothing about Ernestine's character, but fortunately she 
 is barely sixteen, and in a couple of days we shall be 
 able to read her like a book." 
 
 "You may trust to my sagacity for that," said the 
 baron, with a truly Machiavelian air. 
 
 " I shall trust to your penetration, of course, but just 
 a little to my own as well," responded the baroness. " But 
 whatever kind of a girl Ernestine may be, there is but 
 one course for us to pursue. We must lavish every 
 attention upon her, gratify her slightest wish, try to 
 ascertain her tastes ; in short, flatter her, satisfy her 
 every whim, please her in every possible way. We 
 must do all this if we would succeed. As for the 
 means, they will be found when we become acquainted 
 with Ernestine's habits and tastes." 
 
 " The sum and substance of the whole matter is this," 
 began the baron, rising majestically from his chair. 
 
 138
 
 THE SOLEMN COMPACT. 
 
 But at a glance from his wife, he reseated himself, 
 and continued, much more modestly : 
 
 " Ernestine must think and see and act only through 
 us. That is the main thing." 
 
 "The end justifies the means," added Helena, de- 
 voutly. 
 
 " We are perfectly agreed upon the proper course of 
 action," remarked the baroness. " Ernestine cannot but 
 feel grateful to us for going up-stairs and giving her 
 .possession of the entire lower floor, which it has cost 
 nearly fifty thousand francs to renovate, decorate, and 
 furnish for her use." 
 
 " And the improvements and furniture will revert to 
 us, of course, as the house is ours," added the baron ; 
 " and you know it was decided in the family council that 
 the richest heiress in France must be suitably housed." 
 
 " But a much more important and delicate question 
 remains to be discussed," continued the baroness, " the 
 question as to what is to be done in regard to the suitors 
 who are sure to spring up on every side." 
 
 " Certain to," said the baron, avoiding his wife's eye. 
 
 Helena said never a word, but listened with all her 
 ears. 
 
 " Ernestine is sixteen, nearly old enough to be mar- 
 ried," continued the baroness, " so the relation we hold 
 to her will give us a prodigious amount of influence, for 
 people will think and rightly that we shall virtu- 
 ally decide her in her choice of a husband. This fact is 
 already apparent, for, since you were appointed guardian 
 to Ernestine, any number of persons of high position and 
 noble birth have made, and are still making, all sorts of 
 advances and friendly overtures to me in order to get 
 into my good graces, as the saying is." 
 
 " And I, too, have noticed that people I haven't seen 
 for ages, and with whom I was never on particularly 
 friendly terms, are endeavouring to renew their acquaint- 
 ance. The other day, at Madame de Mirecourt's, I had 
 
 139
 
 PRIDE. 
 
 a crowd around me, I was literally surrounded, beset on 
 every side," said the baron, complacently. 
 
 " And even the Marquis de Maillefort, whom I have 
 always hated, is no exception to the rule," added the 
 baroness. 
 
 " And you are right," exclaimed the baron. " There 
 is no one in the whole world I hate as I hate that infernal 
 hunchback ! " 
 
 " I have seen him twice," Helena said, piously, in her 
 turn. " Every vice seems to be written on his face. He 
 looks like Satan himself." 
 
 "Well, one day this Satan suddenly dropped down 
 from the clouds, as cool as you please, though he hadn't 
 set foot in my house for five or six years, and he has called 
 several times since." 
 
 " If he has taken to flattering you and paying court to 
 you it can hardly be on his own account." 
 
 " Evidently not, so I am convinced that M. de Maille- 
 fort has some ulterior motive, and I am resolved to 
 discover this motive." 
 
 " I'm sorry to learn that he's coming here again," said 
 M. de la Rochaigue. " He is my greatest antipathy, my 
 bete noire." 
 
 "Oh, don't talk nonsense," exclaimed the baroness, 
 impatiently ; " we have got to put up with the marquis, 
 there's no help for it. Besides, if a man of his position 
 makes such advances to you, how will it be with others ? 
 This is an incontestable proof of our influence. Let us 
 endeavour to profit by it in every possible way, and by 
 and by, when the girl is ready to settle down, we shall be 
 stupid indeed if we cannot induce her to make a choice 
 that will be very advantageous to us." 
 
 "You state the case admirably, my dear," said the 
 baron, apparently much impressed, while Helena, who 
 was evidently no less deeply interested, drew her chair 
 closer to that of her brother and his wife. 
 
 "And now had we better hasten or retard the 
 
 140
 
 THE SOLEMN COMPACT. 
 
 moment when Ernestine makes her choice ? " asked the 
 baroness. 
 
 " A very important question," said the baron. 
 
 " My advice would be to defer any decision upon this 
 subject for six months," said the baroness. 
 
 " That is my opinion, too," exclaimed the baron, as if 
 this statement of his wife's views had given him great 
 inward satisfaction. 
 
 " I agree with you perfectly, my brother, and with you, 
 my sister," said Helena, who had listened silently and 
 with downcast eyes to every word of the conversation. 
 
 " Very well," said the baroness, evidently well pleased 
 with this harmony of feeling. "And now there can be 
 no doubt that we shall be able to conduct the affair to a 
 successful termination, for we will all take a solemn oath, 
 by all we hold most dear, to accept no suitor for Ernes- 
 tine's hand, without warning and consulting one another." 
 
 " To act alone or secretly would be an act of infamous, 
 shameless, and horrible treachery," exclaimed the baron, 
 as if shocked at the mere idea of such an atrocity. 
 
 " Mon Dieu!" murmured Helena, clasping her hands. 
 " Who could ever think of acting such a treacherous 
 part?" 
 
 " It would be an infamous act," said the baroness, in 
 her turn, " and worse, it would be a fatal blunder. 
 We shall be strong if we act in unison, but weak, if we 
 act independently of one another." 
 
 " In union there is strength ! " said the baron, sen- 
 tentiously. 
 
 " So, unless we mutually agree upon a change of plan, 
 we will defer all action on the subject of Ernestine's 
 marriage for six months, in order that we may have 
 time to strengthen our influence over her." 
 
 "This question decided, there is another important 
 matter to be considered," continued the baroness. " Is 
 Ernestine to be allowed to retain her governess or not ? 
 This Madame Laind, as nearly as I can ascertain, is 
 
 141
 
 PRIDE. 
 
 only a little above the ordinary maid. She has been 
 with Ernestine two years, though, and must, consequently, 
 have some influence over her." 
 
 " In that case, we had better oust the governess, or 
 prejudice Ernestine against her," volunteered the baron, 
 with an air of profound wisdom. " That would be the 
 thing to do." 
 
 " A very silly thing," retorted the baroness. 
 
 " But, my dear " 
 
 " The only sensible thing to do in such a contingency 
 is to win the governess over to our side, and then see 
 that she acts according to our instructions. In that 
 case, this woman's influence, instead of being dangerous, 
 would prove of the greatest possible service to us." 
 
 " That is true," said Helena. 
 
 " Yes, considered from this point of view, the govern- 
 ess might be very useful, very serviceable, and very 
 advantageous," said the baron, thoughtfully ; " but if 
 she should refuse to ally herself with our interests, 
 if our attempts to conciliate this woman should excite 
 Ernestine's suspicions, what then ? " 
 
 " We must first see what can be done, and I'll attend 
 to that," said the baroness. " If we find that the woman 
 cannot be won over, then we will adopt M. de la Rochai- 
 gue's first suggestion, and get rid of the governess." 
 
 The conference was here interrupted by a servant, who 
 came to announce that the courier who preceded Mile, 
 de Beaumesnil's carriage had just ridden into the court- 
 yard, and said that he was but a half hour in advance 
 of the others. 
 
 " Quick quick to our toilets," said the baroness, 
 as soon as the servant left the room. Then she added, 
 as if the thought had just occurred to her : 
 
 " But, now I think of it, being cousins, we wore 
 mourning six weeks for the countess. It would be a 
 good idea, perhaps, to put it on again. All Ernestine's 
 servants are in black, and by our order her carriages 
 
 142
 
 THE SOLEMN COMPACT. 
 
 will be draped in black. Don't you think that if I 
 should be dressed in colours the first time she sees 
 me, the child would think hard of it ? " 
 
 " You are right, my dear," said the baron. " Resume 
 your mourning, if only for a fortnight." 
 
 " I hate the idea," said the baroness, " for black is 
 frightfully unbecoming to me. But this is one of the 
 many sacrifices a person is obliged to make. Now, as 
 to our compact," added the baroness. " No secret or 
 independent step is to be taken in regard to Ernestine. 
 We will all make a solemn promise to that effect. I, 
 for one, swear it." 
 
 " And I," said the baron. 
 
 " And I," murmured Helena. 
 
 All three then hurried off to dress for the evening. 
 
 The baroness had no sooner locked herself in her own 
 room, however, than she seated herself at her desk, 
 and nastily penned the following note : 
 
 " MY DEAREST JULIE : The child arrives this evening. 
 I shall be at your house to-morrow morning at ten 
 o'clock. We haven't a minute to lose. Notify a cer- 
 tain person at once. We must come to a full under- 
 standing without delay. Silence and prudence, 
 
 L. DE L. R." 
 
 The baroness addressed this note to 
 
 Madame la Vicomtesse de Mirecourt. 
 
 Then, calling her maid, and handing her the missive, 
 she said : 
 
 " While we are at table you must take this to Madame 
 de Mirecourt. You will take a box with you when you 
 go out, as if you were going on an errand." 
 
 Almost at the same moment the baron was affixing 
 his signature to the following note : 
 
 " M. de la Rochaigue begs that M. le Baron de Ravil 
 
 143
 
 PRIDE. 
 
 will see him to-morrow at his house between one and 
 two o'clock in the afternoon. The matter is urgent. 
 
 " M. de la Rochaigue counts upon seeing M. de Ravil 
 at the time and place named, and assures him of his 
 most distinguished consideration." 
 
 The baron addressed this note to 
 
 M. le Baron de Ravil, 
 
 No. 1 Rue G-odot-de-Mauroy. 
 
 Then he said to his valet : 
 
 " Call some one to post this letter at once." 
 
 And last, but not least, Mile. Helena, after taking the 
 
 same precautions as the baron and baroness, penned 
 
 the following note : 
 
 " MY DEAR ABBE : Do not fail to call to-morrow 
 morning at ten o'clock. 
 
 " May God be with you. The hour has come. 
 " Pray for me as I pray for you. 
 
 H. DE L. R." 
 This note Helena addressed to 
 
 M. VAbbe Ledoux, 
 
 Rue de la Plaushe. 
 
 144
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 A GLORIOUS DREAM. 
 
 ON the day following this conference in the Rochaigue 
 family, three important scenes took place in the homes 
 of as many different persons. 
 
 The first occurred in the house of Abb6 Ledoux, 
 the priest we saw administering the last sacrament to 
 Madame de Beaumesnil. 
 
 The abb6 was a small man, with an insinuating smile, 
 a sharp, penetrating eye, ruddy complexion, and gray hair. 
 
 He was pacing his bedroom in a restless, agitated 
 manner, glancing every now and then at the clock, and 
 seemed to be waiting for some one. 
 
 Suddenly the sound of the door-bell was heard ; the 
 door opened, and a servant, who looked very much like 
 a sacristan, announced : 
 
 " M. Celestin de Macreuse." 
 
 This pious founder of the St. Polycarpe mission was 
 a tall, rather stout young man with excellent manners, 
 rather faded light hair, regular features, and fine com- 
 plexion. In fact, he might easily have passed for a 
 handsome man, had it not been for the expression of 
 treacherous sweetness and extreme self-complacency that 
 characterised his countenance. 
 
 When he entered the room M. de Macreuse kissed 
 Abbe* Ledoux in a Christianlike manner on both cheeks, 
 and the abb6 returned the salute in the same apostolic 
 fashion. 
 
 " You have no idea how impatiently I have been 
 waiting for you, my dear Celestin," he said. 
 
 145
 
 PRIDE. 
 
 " There was a meeting at the mission to-day, M. I'abbe', 
 and a very stormy meeting it was. You cannot conceive 
 what a blind spirit of rebellion those miserable creatures 
 display. Ah, how much suffering is needed to make 
 these coarse natures understand how essential to their 
 salvation is the poverty in which they are now living ! 
 But no, instead of being content with a chance of salva- 
 tion, instead of living with their gaze directed heaven- 
 ward, they persist in keeping their eyes on their earthly 
 surroundings, in comparing their condition with that 
 of more favoured mortals, and in prating of their right 
 to employment and to happiness. To happiness ! What 
 heresy ! It is truly disheartening ! " 
 
 The abb listened to Ce'lestin's tirade with a half 
 smile, thinking the while of the pleasant surprise he had 
 in store for his visitor. 
 
 " And what do you suppose has been going on while 
 you were talking wisdom to those miserable wretches 
 down there, my dear Celestin ? " asked the abbe*. " I 
 have been talking to Mile, de la Rochaigue about you. 
 Another subject of conversation, too, was the arrival of 
 the little Beaumesnil." 
 
 " What ! " exclaimed M. de Macreuse, colouring with 
 surprise and delight, " do you mean to say that Mile. 
 de Beaumesnil " 
 
 " Returned to Paris last evening." 
 
 " And Mile, de la Rochaigue ? " 
 
 " Is still of the same mind in regard to you, ready 
 to do anything, in fact, to prevent this immense fortune 
 from falling into evil hands. I saw the dear lady this 
 morning; we have decided upon our course of action, 
 and it will be no fault of ours if you do not marry Mile. 
 de Beaumesnil." 
 
 " Ah, if that glorious dream is ever realised it will be 
 to you that I shall owe this immense, this incalculable 
 fortune ! " exclaimed M. de Macreuse, seizing the abbess, 
 hands and pressing them fervently. 
 
 146
 
 A GLORIOUS DREAM. 
 
 "It is thus that pious young men who are living 
 examples of all the Christian virtues are rewarded in 
 this day and generation," answered the abbe", jovially. 
 
 " And such a fortune ! Such a golden future ! Is it 
 not enough to dazzle any one ? " cried Ce*lestin, with an 
 expression of intense cupidity on his face. 
 
 " How ardently the dear boy loves money," said the 
 abbe", with a paternal air, pinching Ce"lestin's plump 
 cheek as he spoke. " Well, we must do our very best 
 to secure it for him, then. Unfortunately, I could not 
 persuade that hard-headed Madame de Beaumesnil to 
 make a will designating you as her daughter's future 
 husband. If she had done that we should not have had 
 the slightest trouble. Armed with this request of a 
 dying mother, Mile, de la Rochaigue and I could have 
 appealed to the girl, who would have consented to any- 
 thing out of respect for her mother's memory. It would 
 have been a fine thing ; besides, there could have been 
 no opposition then, you see, but of course that is not to 
 be thought of now." 
 
 " And why is it not to be thought of ? " asked M. de 
 Macreuse, with some hesitation, but looking the abbe" 
 straight in the eye. 
 
 That gentleman returned the gaze with the same 
 intentness. 
 
 Celestin averted his eyes, but it was with a faint smile 
 that he replied : 
 
 " When I said that it might not be absolutely neces- 
 sary for us to renounce the assistance of such a state- 
 ment of Madame de Beaumesnil' s wishes 
 
 "In writing?" demanded the abbe", casting down his 
 eyes in his turn, before the bold assent Celestin's look 
 conveyed. 
 
 There was a moment's silence, after which the abbe* 
 said, as calmly as if no such incident had interrupted the 
 conversation : 
 
 " Consequently, we must begin a new campaign. 
 
 147
 
 PRIDE. 
 
 Circumstances favour us ; besides, we are the first in the 
 field, the baron and his wife having no one in view as 
 yet ; at least, Mile, de Rochaigue, who is entirely devoted 
 to us, says so. As for her brother and his wife, they 
 are extremely selfish and avaricious persons, so it is 
 quite possible that, if we seem likely to succeed, they will 
 side with us, that is, if they feel that it will be to their 
 interest to do so. But we must first place ourselves in 
 a position that will enable us to make our own terms." 
 
 " And when, and in what way, am I to make Mile, de 
 Beaumesnil's acquaintance, my dear abb ? " 
 
 " We have not yet decided that very important ques- 
 tion. A formal introduction is evidently out of the 
 question, as the baron and his wife would be sure to 
 suspect our intentions. Besides, a slight air of mystery 
 and secrecy would be much more likely to excite Mile, 
 de Beaumesnil's curiosity and interest. It is necessary, 
 too, if we wish to produce the best possible effect, that 
 this introduction should be managed with an eye to the 
 young girl's character." 
 
 Celestin cast a glance of mingled surprise and inquiry 
 at his companion. 
 
 " So you had better allow us to attend to all that," 
 continued the abbe", in a tone of affectionate superiority. 
 " We understand human nature thoroughly. From what 
 I have been able to learn, the little Beaumesnil must be 
 exceedingly religious and devout. It is also an excellent 
 thing to know that Mile, de Beaumesnil has a decided 
 preference for the altar of Mary a very natural predi- 
 lection in a young girl." 
 
 " Permit me to interrupt you an instant, my dear 
 abbe"," said Ce'lestin, hastily. 
 
 " What is it, my dear boy ? " 
 
 " M. and Madame de la Rochaigue are not very regu- 
 lar in the performance of their religious duties, but 
 Mile. Helena never misses a service." 
 
 " That is true." 
 
 148
 
 A GLORIOUS DREAM. 
 
 " It will be only natural, then, that she should take 
 Mile, de Beaumesnil to the Church of St. Thomas 
 d'Aquin, that being the church she always attends." 
 
 " Evidently." 
 
 " It would be well, then, for her to perform her devo- 
 tions at the altar of the Virgin, where she will also 
 conduct her young friend to-morrow morning at nine 
 o'clock. I would also suggest that the ladies take their 
 places to the left of the altar." 
 
 " To the left of the altar ! and why, C^lestin ?" 
 
 " Because I shall be performing my devotions at the 
 same altar." 
 
 " Excellent ! " cried the abbe", " no better plan could 
 be devised. Mile. Helena shall call the girl's attention 
 to you, and you will make an admirable impression from 
 the very first. A very clever idea, my dear Celestin, a 
 very clever idea ! " 
 
 " Don't give me the credit of it, my dear abbe*," replied 
 Celestin, with ironical modesty. " Render unto Caesar 
 the things that are Caesar's." 
 
 " And to what Caesar am I to attribute this admirable 
 idea for a first interview ? " 
 
 " To the author of these lines, my dear abbe"." And 
 in a sardonic tone, M. de Macreuse repeated : 
 
 " ' Ah, if you had but seen him as I first saw him, 
 
 You would feel for him the same fondness that I feel. 
 
 Each day to church he came with gentle air, 
 
 To kneel devoutly right before me, 
 
 And attracted the gaze of all assembled there, 
 
 By the sincerity and ardour of his prayer.' 
 
 " You see everything has been planned for me, even to 
 offering the holy water on leaving the church," added 
 Macreuse. "And yet, people persist in declaring that 
 the writings of this impious playwright are immoral and 
 reprehensible." 
 
 " That's pretty good, upon my word ! " cried the abbe*, 
 
 149
 
 PRIDE. 
 
 laughing heartily. " Well, Heaven speed the good cause, 
 whatever may be the weapons used ! You have every- 
 thing to hope for, my dear Celestin. You are clever 
 and persevering, and more likely to make a favourable 
 impression on the orphan than any one I know. I would 
 advise, however, that you be extremely careful about 
 your dress. Let it be rich, but not gaudy, and charac- 
 terised always by that elegant simplicity which is the 
 perfection of good taste. Let me look at you a minute, 
 Yes," continued the abbe", after scrutinising the young 
 man closely for a moment, " you had better give a slight 
 wave to your hair instead of wearing it smooth. It 
 takes something more than fine talk to captivate a 
 young girl's fancy." 
 
 " Oh, you need feel no uneasiness, my dear abbe*, I 
 understand all those little matters. I know, too, that 
 the greatest victories are often won by trivial means. 
 And success in this instance means the most delightful 
 and blissful future of which man ever dreamed," ex- 
 claimed Celestin, his eyes sparkling joyously. 
 
 " And you will attain this success, for all the resources 
 at our disposal and they are immense will be em- 
 ployed, if need be." 
 
 " Ah, my indebtedness to you will be immeasurable." 
 " And your success will not benefit you alone ! " 
 " What do you mean by that, my dear abb6 ? " 
 " I mean that your success will have an enormous, an 
 incalculable influence. Yes, all those fine young gentle- 
 men who pose as freethinkers, all the lukewarm, all 
 the indifferent, who uphold us but weakly, will see what 
 one gains by being with us, for us, and of us. These 
 advantages have also been demonstrated to some extent, 
 I think, by the very enviable position especially for 
 one of your years and of of your obscure birth " 
 added the abbe", blushing a little, and Celestin somehow 
 seemed to share this embarrassment. 
 
 " So, my dear Celestin," the priest continued, " while 
 
 150
 
 A GLORIOUS DREAM. 
 
 envious and insolent aristocrats squander their wealth 
 and their health in vile orgies and senseless dissipation, 
 you, my dear child, come from nobody knows where, 
 aided and pushed forward by nobody knows whom, will 
 quietly make your way in the world, and soon every one 
 will be petrified with amazement at your marvellous 
 good fortune." 
 
 " Ah, my dear abbe", you may rest assured that my 
 gratitude " 
 
 But the abbd again interrupted him by saying, with 
 a peculiar smile : 
 
 " Do not persist in talking of your gratitude. No one 
 has a chance to be ungrateful to us. We are not chil- 
 dren ; we take our precautions ; besides, our best guar- 
 antee is the love and good-will of those who are indebted 
 to us." 
 
 And the abbe", again pinching the young man's ear in 
 a paternal way, continued : 
 
 " Now let me mention another no less important mat- 
 ter. You know the saying, * He who hears only one 
 bell hears but one note.' You may rest assured that 
 Mile. Helena will descant eloquently upon your many 
 virtues to the little Beaumesnil. Your goodness, your 
 piety, the angelic sweetness of your face, the dignified 
 modesty of your demeanour, will be her constant theme. 
 She will do everything she can to make the girl fall 
 madly in love with you ; but it would be an excellent 
 thing if these praises were echoed by somebody else, and 
 particularly if they were repeated by persons of such 
 prominence that the words would exert a great influence 
 upon the mind of the little Beaumesnil." 
 
 " That would be a great help, I admit, my dear abbe"." 
 
 "Let us see, then, my dear Ce'lestin. Among your 
 fashionable friends is there no lady who could be entrusted 
 with this delicate mission ? How about Madame de 
 Francville ? " 
 
 She is too silly." 
 
 151
 
 PRIDE. 
 
 " Madame de Bonrepos, then ? " 
 
 " She is too indiscreet and too garrulous." 
 
 " Madame Lef ebure ? " 
 
 " She is too much of a plebeian. There is but one 
 lady upon whose friendship and discretion I can rely 
 sufficiently to make such a request," continued Celestin, 
 after quite a long pause. " That is Madame la Duchesse 
 de Senneterre." 
 
 " And you couldn't possibly do better, for the duchess 
 has an immense amount of influence in society," said 
 the abbe", thoughtfully. " I think, too, that you are not 
 mistaken in your assertion, for I have heard her praise 
 you very warmly on several occasions, and have even 
 heard her express great regret that her son Gerald was 
 not more like you." 
 
 On hearing Gerald's name, M. de Macreuse's face 
 darkened ominously, and it was in a tone of positive 
 hatred that he exclaimed : 
 
 " That man insulted me before everybody not very 
 long ago. I will have my revenge, you may be sure of 
 that." 
 
 " My dear boy, did you never hear the Roman proverb, 
 * Vengeance should be eaten cold.' It is a true one. My 
 advice to you is to remember and wait. Haven't you 
 a good deal of influence over his mother already ? " 
 
 " Yes," replied Ce'lestin, " and the longer I think about 
 it, the more convinced I am that it is to Madame de 
 Senneterre that I ought to apply in this matter. I have 
 had convincing proof of the interest she takes in me 
 more than once ; and the confidence I now show in her 
 will please her, I am sure. I will consult with her, too, 
 I think, as to the best means of establishing friendly 
 relations between her and Mile, de Beaumesnil. That 
 will be a comparatively easy matter, I think." 
 
 " In that case, you had better see the duchess as soon 
 as possible," replied the abbe". 
 
 " It is only half past twelve," said Celestin, glancing 
 
 152
 
 A GLORIOUS DREAM. 
 
 at the clock, " and Madame de Senneterre is generally at 
 home to her intimate friends from one to two o'clock. I 
 will go there at once." 
 
 " On your way you had better consider well if any 
 inconveniences are likely to result from these overtures 
 on your part. I can see only advantages." 
 
 " It is the same with me. Nevertheless, I will think 
 the matter over. As for the rest, that is decided, you 
 know. To-morrow morning at nine o'clock, a little to 
 the left of the altar, in the Chapel of the Virgin, in the 
 Church of St. Thomas d'Aquin, remember." 
 
 " That is understood," answered the abbe". * " I will go 
 and inform Mile. Helena of our arrangements. She will 
 be at the chapel with Mile, de Beaumesnil to-morrow 
 morning at nine o'clock. I can vouch for that. Now 
 go at once to Madame de Senneterre's. You have no 
 time to lose." 
 
 So, after an affectionate leave-taking, Celestin hastened 
 to the HQtel de Senneterre. 
 
 153
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 AN INCOMPEEHENSIBLE REFUSAL. 
 
 ON the morning of the same day on which the fore- 
 going conversation between Abb6 Ledoux and M. de 
 Macreuse took place, Madame la Duchesse de Senne- 
 terre, having received an important letter, went out at 
 ten o'clock, as usual. On her return, at half past eleven, 
 she immediately asked for her son Gerald ; but that 
 young gentleman's valet reported to madame's maid 
 that M. le due had not slept at home the night before. 
 
 About noon there came another and very peremptory 
 message from the duchess, but her son had not yet 
 returned. At last, about half past twelve, Gerald en- 
 tered his mother's room, and was about to embrace her 
 with affectionate gaiety, when the duchess, pushing him 
 away, said, reproachfully : 
 
 " This is the third time I have sent for you, my son." 
 
 " I have but just returned home, and here I am ! 
 What do you wish, my dear mother ? " 
 
 "You have but just returned home at this hour? 
 What scandalous behaviour ! " 
 
 " What scandalous behaviour ? " 
 
 " Listen to me, my son : there are some things I will 
 not discuss ; but do not mistake my aversion to speaking 
 of them for either tolerance or blindness." 
 
 " My dear mother," said Gerald, firmly, but deferen- 
 tially, " you have always found me, and you will always 
 find me, the most affectionate and respectful of sons ; 
 and it is hardly necessary for me to add that my name, 
 
 154
 
 AN INCOMPREHENSIBLE REFUSAL. 
 
 which is also yours, shall be always and everywhere 
 honoured and worthy of honour. But what else can 
 you expect? I am twenty-four, and I live and amuse 
 myself like a man of twenty-four." 
 
 " But, Gerald, you know that the life you are leading 
 has troubled me very much for a long time, both on 
 your account and my own. You shun society, though 
 your name and talents entitle you to a distinguished 
 place in its ranks, and you keep very bad company." 
 
 " Well, so far as women are concerned, I am forced 
 to say that what you call bad company is the best, in 
 my opinion. Come, come, mother, don't be angry ! You 
 know I'm still a soldier, so far as plain speaking is 
 concerned. I consequently admit that I have a slight 
 weakness for pretty girls in the lower walks of life. So 
 far as men are concerned, I have friends of whom any 
 man might be proud ; but one of the dearest among them 
 is a former soldier in my regiment. If you knew him, 
 mother, you would have a better opinion of me," added 
 Gerald, smiling, " for you judge a man by his friends, 
 you know." 
 
 " Is there anybody in the world but you who chooses 
 his intimate friends from among common soldiers ? " 
 exclaimed the duchess, shrugging her shoulders dis- 
 dainfully. 
 
 " I think so, my dear mother, though it isn't everybody 
 who has a chance to select his friends on the battle-field." 
 
 " But I am not talking of your relations with men, my 
 son, I am reproaching you for compromising yourself as 
 you do with those common girls." 
 
 " But they are so amusing." 
 
 " My son ! " 
 
 " Pardon me, my dear mother," said Gerald, kissing 
 his mother in spite of her strenuous efforts to prevent it. 
 " I was wrong, yes, I was wrong. The truth is, though, 
 but, oh, dear ! what shall I say ? I don't want to horrify 
 you again but really, mother, vestal virgins are not 
 
 155
 
 PRIDE. 
 
 to my taste, and you surely wouldn't like to see me 
 carrying ruin and desolation into happy households, 
 would you, mother ? " he continued, in half tragic tones. 
 " Besides, the truth is, for virtue's sake, perhaps, I 
 like girls of the people better. The sanctity of marriage 
 isn't outraged, you see, and then, as I said before, they're 
 infinitely more amusing." 
 
 " You will excuse me from expressing any opinion on 
 your choice of mistresses," retorted the duchess, angrily ; 
 " but it is certainly my duty to censure in the severest 
 manner the strange frivolity of your conduct. You do 
 not realise how you are injuring yourself." 
 
 " In what way ? " 
 
 " Do you suppose that if the question of a marriage 
 was broached 
 
 " A marriage ? " cried Gerald ; " but I've no intention 
 of marrying, not the slightest." 
 
 " You will do me the favour to listen to me, I hope." 
 
 " I am listening." 
 
 " You know Madame de Mirecourt ? " 
 
 "Yes; but fortunately she is married, so you can't 
 offer me to her. I'm glad of it, for she's the worst 
 plotter and schemer on earth." 
 
 "Possibly she is, but she is an intimate friend of 
 Madame de la Rochaigue, who is also one of my 
 friends." 
 
 " How long since, may I ask ? Haven't I often heard 
 you say that that woman was the very personification of 
 meanness ? " 
 
 " That is neither here nor there," said the duchess, 
 hastily interrupting him, " Madame de la Rochaigue has 
 now for a ward Mile, de Beaumesnil, the richest heiress 
 in France." 
 
 " Who is now in Italy." 
 
 " Who is now in Paris." 
 
 " She has returned ? " 
 
 " Yes, last evening ; and this morning, at ten o'clock, 
 
 156
 
 AN INCOMPREHENSIBLE REFUSAL. 
 
 I had a long and very satisfactory interview with Madame 
 de Rochaigue at Madame de Mirecourt's house. I have 
 been devoting my time and attention to a certain matter 
 for nearly a month, but knowing your habitual levity, I 
 would not say a word about it to you. Fortunately, 
 everything has been kept such a close secret between 
 Madame de la Rochaigue, Madame de Mirecourt, and 
 myself, that we are very hopeful " 
 
 " Hopeful of what ? " 
 
 " Why, of bringing about a marriage between Mile, de 
 Beaumesnil and yourself." 
 
 " A marriage ! " cried Gerald, bounding out of his 
 chair. 
 
 " Yes, a marriage with the richest heiress in France," 
 replied Madame de Senneterre. 
 
 Then, without making any effort to conceal her uneasi- 
 ness, she continued : 
 
 "If it were not for your conduct, we should have 
 every chance in our favour, though suitors and rivals 
 will soon be pouring in on every side. There will be a 
 hard struggle for the prize, and Heaven knows even the 
 truth will be terribly damaging to you. Ah, if with 
 your name, your talents, and your face you were a 
 model of virtue and propriety like that excellent M. de 
 Macreuse, for example " 
 
 " But are you really thinking seriously of this 
 marriage, mother?" asked Gerald, more and more 
 astonished. 
 
 " Am I thinking of it seriously ? You ask me that ? " 
 
 " My dear mother, I am infinitely grateful to you for 
 your kind intentions, but I repeat that I have no desire 
 to marry." 
 
 " What is that you say ? " 
 
 " I say, my dear mother, that I have no intention of 
 marrying anybody." 
 
 " Mon Dieu ! he is mad ! " cried Madame de Senne- 
 terre. " He refuses the richest heiress in France ! " 
 
 157
 
 PRIDE. 
 
 " Listen, mother," said Gerald, gravely, but tenderly ; 
 " I am an honest man, and being such, I confess that I 
 love pleasure above all things, consequently I should 
 make a detestable husband, even for the richest heiress 
 in France." 
 
 " A colossal fortune an unheard-of fortune ! " fal- 
 tered Madame de Senneterre, stupefied by this refusal on 
 the part of her son. " An income of over three million 
 francs ! Think of it ! " 
 
 " But I love pleasure and my liberty more ! " 
 
 " What you say is abominable ! " cried Madame de 
 Senneterre, almost beside herself. " Why, you are an 
 idiot, and worse than an idiot ! " 
 
 " But, my dear mother, I love independence, and gay 
 suppers and good times, generally, in short, the life of 
 a bachelor. I still have six years of such joyous exist- 
 ence before me, and I wouldn't sacrifice them for all the 
 money in the world ; besides," added Gerald, more seri- 
 ously, " I really couldn't be mean enough to make a poor 
 girl I had married for her money as miserable as she 
 was ridiculous. Besides, mother, you know very well 
 that I absolutely refused to buy a substitute to go and 
 be killed in my stead, so you can not wonder that I 
 refuse to sell myself for any woman's millions." 
 
 " But, my son " 
 
 " My dear mother, it is just this. Your M. de Ma- 
 creuse, and if you really have any regard for him, 
 don't hold him up to me again as a model, or I shall 
 break all the canes I possess over his back, your M. 
 de Macreuse, who is so devout, would probably not have 
 the same scruples that I, a mere pagan, have. But such 
 as I am, such I shall remain, and love you even more 
 than ever, my dear mother," added Gerald, kissing the 
 hand of the duchess respectfully. 
 
 There are strange coincidences in this life of ours. 
 
 Gerald had scarcely uttered M. de Macreuse's name 
 before a servant rapped at the door, and, on being told 
 
 158
 
 AN INCOMPREHENSIBLE REFUSAL. 
 
 to enter, announced that M. de Macreuse wished to see 
 the duchess in regard to a very important matter. 
 
 " Did you tell him that I was at home ? " asked 
 Madame de Senneterre. 
 
 " Madame la duchesse gave no order to the contrary." 
 
 " Very well, ask M. de Macreuse to wait a mo- 
 ment." 
 
 Then turning to her son, she said, no longer with 
 severity, but with deep sadness: 
 
 " Your incomprehensible refusal grieves and disappoints 
 me more than I can express, so I beg and implore that you 
 will remain here. I will return almost immediately. Ah, 
 my son, my dear son, you can not imagine the terrible 
 chagrin you are causing me." 
 
 "Pray, mother, do not say that," pleaded Gerald, 
 touched by his mother's grief. " You know how much 
 I love you." 
 
 " You are always saying that, Gerald. I wish I could 
 believe it." 
 
 " Then send that brute of a Macreuse away, and let me 
 try to convince you that my conduct is at least loyal and 
 honest. What, you insist upon going ? " he added, seeing 
 his mother moving towards the door. 
 
 " M. de Macreuse is waiting for me," replied the 
 duchess. 
 
 " Then let me send him word to take himself off. 
 There is no necessity of bothering with him." 
 
 But as M. de Senneterre started towards the bell with 
 the evident intention of giving the order, his mother 
 checked him by saying : 
 
 " Really, Gerald, another of my great annoyances is 
 the intense aversion I will not say jealousy you seem 
 to entertain for a worthy young man whose exemplary 
 life, modesty, and piety ought to be an example to you. 
 Ah, would to Heaven that you had his principles and 
 virtues ! If that were the case, you would not prefer 
 low company and a life of dissipation to a brilliant 
 
 159
 
 PRIDE. 
 
 marriage which would assure your happiness and 
 mine." 
 
 With this parting thrust Madame de Senneterre went 
 to join M. de Macreuse, leaving her son alone, but not 
 without making him promise that he would wait for her 
 return. 
 
 160
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 PRESUMPTION AND INDIGNATION. 
 
 WHEN the duchess returned to her son, her cheeks 
 were flushed, and intense indignation was depicted on 
 her visage. 
 
 " Who ever would have believed it ? Did any one 
 ever hear of such audacity ? " she exclaimed, on entering 
 the room. 
 
 " What is the matter, mother ? " 
 
 "M. de Macreuse is a scoundrel, a vile scoundrel ! " 
 cried Madame de Senneterre, in a tempest of wrath. 
 
 Gerald could not help bursting into a hearty laugh, 
 despite his mother's agitation ; then, regretting this un- 
 seemly hilarity, he said : 
 
 " Forgive me, mother, but this revulsion of feeling is 
 so sudden and so very remarkable ! But tell me, has 
 this man failed in respect to you ? " demanded Gerald, 
 very seriously, this time. 
 
 " Such a person as he is never forgets his manners," 
 answered the duchess, spitefully. 
 
 " Then what is the meaning of this anger ? You 
 were swearing by your M. de Macreuse a minute ago ! " 
 
 " Don't call him my M. de Macreuse, if you please," 
 cried Madame de Senneterre, interrupting her son, im- 
 petuously. " Do you know the object of his visit ? He 
 came to ask me to say all I could in his praise, in his 
 praise, indeed ! " 
 
 " But to whom, and for what purpose ? " 
 
 " Did any one ever hear of such audacity ! " 
 
 161
 
 PRIDE. 
 
 " But tell me his object in making this request, 
 mother." 
 
 " His object ! Why, the man wants to marry Mile, de 
 Beaumesnil ! " 
 
 " He ! " 
 
 " Did any one ever hear of such presumption ? " 
 
 " Macreuse ? " 
 
 " A mere nobody ! A common vagrant ! " cried the 
 duchess. " Really, it is hard to imagine who could have 
 had the audacity to introduce a creature like that into 
 our circle." 
 
 "But how did he happen to reveal his projects to 
 you?" 
 
 " Because I have always treated him with considera- 
 tion, I suppose ; because, like so many other fools I 
 took him up, without knowing why, until the fellow 
 thought he had a right to come and say to me that, by 
 reason of the friendly interest I had always taken in 
 him, and the eulogiums I had lavished upon him, he 
 really felt it his duty to confide to me, under the pledge 
 of secrecy, his intentions with regard to Mile, de Beau- 
 mesnil ; not doubting, he had the audacity to remark 
 that I would say a few words in his favour to that young 
 lady, adding that he would trust to to my friendly 
 interest. I do believe he had the impudence to say 
 to find an opportunity to do him this favour at the 
 earliest possible moment. Really, effrontery is no name 
 for assurance like his ! " 
 
 " But really, my dear mother, you must confess that 
 it is your own fault. Haven't I heard you praise and 
 flatter this Macreuse in the most outrageous manner, 
 again and again ? " 
 
 " Praise him flatter him ! " exclaimed Madame de 
 Senneterre, naively. " Did I suppose then that he would 
 have the impudence to take it into his head to marry the 
 richest heiress in France, or to think of such a thing as 
 competing with my son ? Besides, with all his boasted 
 
 162
 
 PRESUMPTION AND INDIGNATION. 
 
 shrewdness, the man is nothing more or less than a fool 
 to apply to me for assistance in his schemes ! He will 
 be surprised when he finds out how I will serve his inter- 
 ests. His pretensions are ridiculous, positively ridicu- 
 lous ! He is an adventurer, a scoundrel ! He hasn't 
 even a name, and looks like a sacristan who has just 
 been to dine with his parish priest. He is a hypocrite, a 
 pedant, and a most unmitigated bore, with all his pre- 
 tended virtues. Besides, he hasn't the slightest chance, 
 for, from what Madame de la Rochaigue tells me, Mile, 
 de Beaumesnil would be delighted to become a duchess. 
 Quite a woman of the world, though so young, she has 
 a full appreciation of all the pleasures and advantages 
 which a large fortune combined with a high social posi- 
 tion gives, and 'it certainly is not a plebeian like M. de 
 Macreuse who can give her this high social position." 
 
 " And what reply did you make to his request ? " 
 
 " Enraged at his audacity, I was on the point of tell- 
 ing him that his pretensions were as absurd as they were 
 insolent, and of forbidding him to ever set foot in my 
 house again ; but I reflected that I might be able to cir- 
 cumvent him most successfully by pretending that I was 
 willing to assist him, so I promised that I would speak 
 of him, as he deserved and I certainly shall not fail to 
 do so. Oh, I will urge his claims in an effectual manner, 
 I'll vouch for that." 
 
 " Do you know, my dear mother, that it is not at all 
 unlikely that Macreuse will attain his end ? " 
 
 " He marry Mile, de Beaumesnil, he ? " 
 
 Yes." 
 
 " Nonsense ! Are you, too, mad ? " 
 
 "Don't deceive yourself, mother. The coterie that 
 sustains him is all-powerful. He has on his side, 1 
 -I don't mind telling you now you detest him so 
 thoroughly, he has on his side all the women who 
 have become bigots, because they are old, all the young 
 women who are prudes, because they are ugly, all the 
 
 163
 
 PRIDE. 
 
 male devotees, because they make capital out of their 
 religion, and all the serious-minded men, because they 
 are so stupid ; so you see the name of his supporters is 
 legion." 
 
 " But with my social standing, my opinion will have 
 some weight, I think," retorted the duchess. 
 
 " But you have been one of his warmest champions 
 and admirers up to the present time, and no one will be 
 able to explain your sudden change of feeling, or, rather, 
 every one will be able to explain it ; and, instead of injur- 
 ing Macreuse, the war you wage against him will aid 
 him. The fellow is an unmitigated scoundrel and arrant 
 hypocrite. You have no idea with whom you have to 
 deal, my dear mother." 
 
 " Really, you take this very calmly with truly heroic 
 self-abnegation, I might say," exclaimed the duchess, 
 bitterly. 
 
 " No, I assure you, his presumption excites my deepest 
 indignation. A fellow like Macreuse to have such pre- 
 tensions and perhaps be able to realise them, a man who 
 from my school-days has always inspired me with both 
 loathing and aversion! And this poor Mile, de Beau- 
 mesnil whom I do not even know, but who becomes 
 interesting in my eyes the minute she is in danger of 
 becoming the wife of that rascal, really I have half a 
 mind to marry her myself, if only to spoil Macreuse's 
 plans and save the poor little thing from that villain's 
 clutches." 
 
 " Oh, Gerald, my son," cried the duchess, " your mar- 
 riage would make me the happiest of mothers ! " 
 
 "But my liberty my precious liberty ! " 
 
 " But, Gerald, think of it, with one of the most illus- 
 trious names in France, and then to become the richest 
 and greatest landowner in France ! Think of the power 
 this immense fortune will give combined with a position 
 like yours, my dear Gerald." 
 
 " Yes, that is so," answered Gerald, reflectively, " but 
 
 164
 
 PRESUMPTION AND INDIGNATION. 
 
 think of me, too, condemned to a life of ennui, and silk 
 hose every evening henceforth and for ever. Besides, 
 remember those dear girls who love me so devotedly ; 
 for, having the good fortune to be young and poor, I am 
 forced to believe that their love is entirely disinterested." 
 
 " But, my dear," insisted the duchess, urged on in 
 spite of herself by her ambition to see her son make this 
 wealthy marriage, " perhaps you exaggerate the require- 
 ments of duty too much. Because you are married is no 
 reason 
 
 " Oh, mother, mother, to think I should ever hear you 
 recommending laxity of morals after marriage ! " 
 
 " You misunderstand my meaning entirely, my son," 
 replied Madame de Senneterre, considerably embarrassed. 
 " I didn't say anything of the kind. If I insist, it is 
 not only to inspire you with a desire to supplant this 
 abominable man, but also for humanity's sake, so to 
 speak." 
 
 " Humanity's sake ? " 
 
 " Certainly, that poor little Mile, de Beaumesnil would 
 positively die of grief and despair if she is forced to live 
 with such a monster. It would be a most generous and 
 commendable act to save her from him." 
 
 " Really, mother, I expect to hear you say in a minute 
 or two that I shall deserve the Monthyon prize, if I 
 contract this marriage." 
 
 " Yes, if the Monthyon prize is to be awarded to the 
 son who makes his mother the happiest of women," 
 replied Madame de Senneterre, looking up at Gerald 
 with eyes full of tears. 
 
 Gerald loved his mother so devotedly that the emotion 
 she manifested touched the young duke deeply, and he 
 said, with a smile : 
 
 "Ah, what a dangerous thing a mother is! She 
 seems to be quite capable of marrying you to the heir- 
 ess of millions, even against your will, especially when 
 there is danger that a scoundrel like Macreuse may be 
 
 165
 
 PRIDE. 
 
 converted into a millionaire. The fact is, the more I 
 think of it the more pleased I am at the idea of circum- 
 venting this hypocrite. What a blow it would be to 
 him! But there is one difficulty, my dear mother, 
 and it strikes me that I am a little late in thinking 
 of it." 
 
 " What do you mean ? " 
 
 " I am by no means sure that I should please Mile, de 
 Beaumesnil." 
 
 "You will only have to try to succeed in doing it, 
 I am sure, my dear Gerald." 
 
 " A true mother's view of the matter." 
 
 " I know you better than most people, perhaps." 
 
 "You are not capable of giving an opinion on the 
 matter, I see. Your affection blinds you, but I forgive 
 you." 
 
 " Leave the matter to me, Gerald. Only consent to 
 be guided by me, and see if I don't conduct the affair 
 to a successful termination." 
 
 " Do you know that one would take you for an invet- 
 erate match-maker if one didn't know you," said Gerald, 
 gaily. " But all mothers are alike in one respect, when 
 their children's interests are at stake they become positive 
 tigresses and lionesses. Very well, whatever your will 
 may be I resign myself to it blindly." 
 
 " My dear, good Gerald," cried the delighted duchess, 
 positively weeping with joy ; " you cannot imagine how 
 happy you have made me. That wretched Macreuse 
 will die of spite." 
 
 " That is so, mother. I shall give him the jaundice 
 instead of the sword-thrust he would have declined to 
 take." 
 
 " Now, Gerald, let us talk the matter over sensibly." 
 
 " So be it. I am listening." 
 
 " As you have made up your mind, it is of the utmost 
 importance that you should see Mile, de Beaumesnil as 
 soon as possible." 
 
 166
 
 PRESUMPTION AND INDIGNATION. 
 
 " Very well." 
 
 " This first interview, you must understand, is of great 
 importance." 
 
 " Unquestionably." 
 
 " The fact is so apparent that I had a long talk with 
 Mesdames de Mirecourt and de la Rochaigue upon the 
 subject this morning. From what the latter lady is able 
 to judge of Mile, de BeaumesniPs character, this is the 
 plan we think most expedient ; but you shall judge for 
 yourself, Gerald." 
 
 " Very well, let me hear it." 
 
 " We recognised from the first the impossibility of rep- 
 resenting you as a serious-minded and settled man 
 
 " And you showed your good sense, for I should have 
 proved you a set of base deceivers only too soon," 
 retorted Gerald, laughing. 
 
 "Of course there is no hope of avoiding the many 
 censorious remarks which the frivolity of your conduct 
 seems to justify, my poor Gerald, so the best thing we 
 can do is to make everything that is said against you 
 redound to your credit as much as possible." 
 
 "Only mothers could show themselves such clever 
 diplomatists as that." 
 
 " Fortunately, Mile, de Beaumesnil, judging from what 
 Madame de la Rochaigue says, she talked with the 
 girl awhile last evening, and the mind of a child of six- 
 teen is not difficult to read, fortunately, Ernestine de 
 Beaumesnil seems to be very fond of luxury, splendour, 
 and display, so we think it advisable that you should first 
 appear before her in the character of one of the most 
 elegant young men in Paris." 
 
 " If you are clever enough to find such an opportunity, 
 I consent, I am sure." 
 
 " It is to-morrow afternoon, is it not, that you are to 
 take part in that race in the Bois de Boulogne ?" 
 
 " Yes, I promised that ninny, De Courville, who has 
 a number of fine horses he is afraid to mount himself, 
 
 167
 
 PRIDE. 
 
 that I would ride his horse, 'Young Emperor,' in the 
 hurdle race." 
 
 " Capital ! Madame de la Rochaigue shall take Mile, 
 de Beaumesnil to the race. They will call for me, and 
 as soon as we reach the Bois it will seem the most natu- 
 ral thing in the world that you should come up and talk 
 with us before the racing begins. Your jockey costume 
 of orange satin with black velvet trimmings is extremely 
 becoming to you." 
 
 " One word, if you please, my dear mother." 
 
 " Let me finish, please. Mile, de Beaumesnil will see 
 you among a crowd of fashionable young men, in which 
 you shine preeminent, every one must admit. And, then, 
 I don't doubt that you will win the race. It is abso- 
 lutely necessary that you should win it, Gerald." 
 
 " It is the general opinion, mother, that the ' Young 
 Emperor ' and I will come out ahead, but " 
 
 " You certainly ride superbly," said the duchess, again 
 interrupting her son ; " and when Ernestine sees you 
 excelling your competitors in the midst of frantic 
 applause, there can be very little doubt that, upon one 
 with the tastes and character she seems to have, the 
 impression produced will be excellent ; and if, after this 
 first meeting, you make yourself as agreeable as you can 
 be when you choose, that impudent Macreuse will appear 
 odious in her eyes even if he should have the audacity to 
 enter the lists." 
 
 " May I be allowed to say a word now, my dear 
 mother ? " 
 
 " Certainly." 
 
 "I see no objection to being introduced by you to 
 Mile, de Beaumesnil at a race in the Bois de Boulogne ; 
 but do you really think it advisable that the presentation 
 should take place on a day that I am arrayed in the garb 
 of a jockey ? " 
 
 " But why not ? I am sure the costume is extremely 
 becoming to you." 
 
 168
 
 PRESUMPTION AND INDIGNATION. 
 
 " It seems to me to savour too much of an actor." 
 
 " Really, Gerald, you have the most peculiar ideas." 
 
 " No, no, my dear mother, it is you who have such 
 ideas, without suspecting it. But, seriously, you can pre- 
 sent me to Mile, de Beaumesnil where you please, when 
 you please, and as you please, either afoot or on horse- 
 back, you are at liberty to choose, you see. But I will 
 not have recourse to the fascinations of a jockey's cos- 
 tume. I don't need them," added Gerald, with a comical 
 affectation of extreme complacency. " I shall dazzle and 
 fascinate Mile, de Beaumesnil by a host of admirable 
 moral and conjugal qualities." 
 
 " Really, Gerald, you are incorrigible. You can not 
 treat even the most important things seriously." 
 
 " What does that matter, provided the things are 
 accomplished ? " 
 
 The conversation between the duchess and her son 
 was interrupted a second time by a valet who announced 
 that the Baron de Ravil wished to see M. le due on very 
 important business, and that he was now waiting in the 
 apartments of M. le due. 
 
 " Yery well," said Gerald, though he was greatly sur- 
 prised at this visit. 
 
 After the valet withdrew, the duchess said to her son : 
 
 " What business can you have with M. de Ravil ? I 
 can not bear the man. He is received everywhere, 
 though, and I must confess that I set the example as 
 much as any one, without really knowing why I do it." 
 
 " The explanation is very simple. His father was a 
 very popular man. He introduced his son into the same 
 social circle in which he himself moved, and, once ad- 
 mitted, Ravil, the younger, continued to be received. I, 
 too, dislike him thoroughly. I have not seen him since 
 the day of that strange duel between the marquis and 
 M. de Mornand, and I have no idea what he can want 
 with me. By the way, I heard an anecdote yesterday 
 that shows his real character, perfectly. A poor fellow 
 
 169
 
 PRIDE. 
 
 who is not very well off in this world's goods obligingly 
 opened his purse to Ravil, and this is the way Ravil 
 repaid him for his kindness : * Where the devil did the 
 fool steal that two hundred louis he loaned to me ? ' he 
 exclaimed in the presence of a number of acquaintances 
 afterward." 
 
 " How shameful ! " cried the duchess. 
 
 " I will go and see what he has to say," remarked 
 Gerald. " The man always seems to know everything 
 that is going on. Wait for me, though, my dear mother. 
 In a few minutes I may return as enthusiastic in regard 
 to this cynical personage as you were exasperated against 
 Macreuse." 
 
 " That is very ungenerous in you, Gerald." 
 
 "Well, at least admit that you and I are not very 
 fortunate in our callers, this morning, my dear mother." 
 
 And M. de Senneterre hurried off to join the baron. 
 
 170
 
 CHAPTER XYIH. 
 
 A PURELY BUSINESS TRANSACTION. 
 
 GERALD greeted M. de Ravil with a cold politeness 
 which did not disconcert his guest in the least, however. 
 
 " To what am I to attribute the honour of your 
 visit ? " asked Gerald, dryly, without sitting down himself 
 or requesting his visitor to be seated. 
 
 The baron, apparently entirely indifferent to this cool 
 reception, replied : 
 
 " M. le due, I came to call your attention to a very 
 promising business matter." 
 
 " I am not in business." 
 
 " Would you like to marry, M. le due ? " 
 
 " Monsieur," said Gerald, haughtily, " this question " 
 
 " Excuse me, M. le due, I called here in your interest, 
 and necessarily, also, in my own. Will you consequently 
 have the kindness to listen to me ? What do you risk by 
 doing so ? I ask only ten minutes." 
 
 "I am listening, monsieur," replied Gerald, whose 
 curiosity had been aroused by the baron's question. 
 
 " I ask once more, then, M. le due : ' Would you like 
 to marry ? ' I must have a reply before continuing the 
 conversation." 
 
 " But monsieur, I " 
 
 " Pardon me, I did not make my question explicit 
 enough. Would you like to make a fabulously rich 
 marriage, M. le due ? " 
 
 " Has M. de Ravil any particular person in view ? " 
 
 171
 
 PRIDE. 
 
 Possibly." 
 
 " But you are a bachelor and a society man. Why 
 do you not marry the lady yourself ? " 
 
 " I have no fortune, monsieur ; my name is compara- 
 tively insignificant; my appearance by no means pre- 
 possessing. In short, there isn't the slightest chance of 
 my making such a marriage, so I thought of you, M. le 
 due." 
 
 " I am greatly obliged to you for your generosity, 
 monsieur, but before we go any further, permit me to 
 ask you a rather delicate question. I would not like 
 to wound your feelings, you know, but " 
 
 " I'm not at all sensitive." 
 
 " I thought as much. Ah, well, what remuneration 
 do you expect for your generous interest ? " 
 
 "I ask one and a half per cent, of the dowry," 
 answered the cynic, boldly. 
 
 And perceiving the disgust and contempt which his 
 words had excited, the baron said, coolly : 
 
 " I thought I gave you clearly to understand that it 
 was a purely business transaction." 
 
 " That is true, monsieur." 
 
 " Then what is the use of mincing matters ? " 
 
 " None at all," replied Gerald, controlling himself ; 
 " so I will say very plainly that this charge of one 
 and a half per cent, of the dowry seems to me quite 
 reasonable." 
 
 "Yes, isn't it?" 
 
 " Certainly, but I must know to whom you think of 
 marrying me, and how you will manage to bring the 
 match about." 
 
 " You are very fond of hunting, I believe, M. le due." 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " And you are an adept at it, I am told." 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " Well, when your pointer or your setter have made a 
 sure stand, they have done their duty, have they not ? 
 
 172
 
 A PURELY BUSINESS TRANSACTION. 
 
 The rest depends upon the accuracy of your aim and the 
 quickness of your fire." 
 
 " If you mean by that, monsieur, that, when you have 
 once told me there is a rich heiress in the market, your 
 one and a half per cent, is earned, I 
 
 " Pardon me, M. le due, I am too good a business man 
 to come to you with any such proposition as that. In 
 short, I stand ready to place you in a position which is 
 not only admirable in every respect, but entirely inacces- 
 sible to any other person. Your own personal attrac- 
 tions and your illustrious name will easily do the rest." 
 
 " And this position ? " 
 
 " You must know, M. le due, that I am not green 
 enough to tell you my secret before you have given 
 me your word as a gentleman that " 
 
 u M. de Ravil," said Gerald, interrupting the scoun- 
 drel whom he was strongly tempted to kick out of the 
 house, " this jesting has lasted quite long enough." 
 
 What jesting, M. le due ? " 
 
 " You must understand that I cannot consider such a 
 proposition seriously. Wed under your auspices, that 
 would be a little too ridiculous." 
 
 " You refuse, then ! " 
 
 " I have that honour." 
 
 " Reflect, M. le due. Remember that saying of Tal- 
 leyrand " 
 
 " You quote Talleyrand very often." 
 
 " He is my teacher, M. le due." 
 
 " And you do him honour. But to what saying of the 
 great diplomatist do you refer ? " 
 
 " This, M. le due : ' One should always distrust one's 
 first impulse, because it is usually a good one.' The 
 saying is a wise one. Profit by it." 
 
 " Ah, monsieur, you little know how much truth there 
 is in what you say, and how extremely apropos it is, so 
 far as you are concerned." 
 
 " Indeed ? " 
 
 173
 
 PRIDE. 
 
 " I accepted your counsel in advance, for if I had 
 yielded to the first impulse which your proposition 
 inspired, I I should have " 
 
 " Should have done what, M. le due ? " 
 
 " You are too shrewd not to suspect what it was, my 
 dear baron, and I am too polite to tell you in 
 my own house." 
 
 " Pardon me, M. le due, but I have no time to waste 
 in guessing riddles. So you refuse my offer ? " 
 
 Yes." 
 
 " One word more, M. le due. I feel it my duty to 
 warn you that to-night it will be too late, in case you 
 should change your mind, for I have somebody else to 
 put in your place. I will even admit that I thought of 
 this other person first, but, upon reflection, I decided 
 that you would have a much better chance of success 
 than the other man. To make the match and get my 
 one and a half per cent, is what I am after, so if you 
 decline my offer, I shall return to my first combination." 
 
 " You are certainly a very cautious man, my dear 
 baron, and it is a relief to know I shall not have the 
 chagrin of seeing you lose, by reason of my refusal 
 for I still refuse the honest gains you are endeavouring 
 to secure by such honourable means But are you not 
 afraid that I may be so indiscreet as to noise your new 
 industry abroad ? " 
 
 " I should be only too delighted, M. le due. Such a 
 revelation would be a splendid advertisement for me, 
 and bring me hosts of clients. Au revoir, then, M. le 
 due. I shall be none the less at your service another 
 time." 
 
 With a low bow to Gerald, the baron left the room as 
 cool and unconcerned as he had entered it, and wended his 
 way towards the Rue de la Madeleine, where his friend, 
 Mornand, lived. 
 
 " This dukeling, doubtless, suspected that Mile, de 
 Beaumesnil is the lady in question, and means to rob 
 
 174
 
 A PURELY BUSINESS TRANSACTION. 
 
 me of my profits by winning the prize without my 
 assistance," the cynic said to himself as he walked 
 along. " It is contemptible in him, but he hasn't got 
 her yet, and he won't get her without a pretty hard 
 fight, that is certain. But it is a great pity ! The fel- 
 low is a duke, and handsome and clever, too. I was 
 sure of success with him, and now I've got to fall back 
 on that ass, Mornand. I was wise not to say anything 
 about my intentions in relation to the Due de Senneterre, 
 to that old sneak, Rochaigue. There was plenty of 
 time to do that, if this handsome gosling responded to 
 my call, as well as to take back all I had said in Mor- 
 nand's favour, and give the necessary instructions to that 
 old female rake of a Laine", the governess. Whatever I 
 want done, she will do, and she can be of incalculable 
 assistance to me self-interest will ensure her devotion 
 and prudence. Fortunately, too, I have managed to get 
 on the right side of Rochaigue, so now I have nothing to 
 do but state the case to Mornand, who must be waiting 
 very impatiently to hear the result of my interview with 
 the baron." 
 
 Pursuing this train of thought, M. de Ravil had reached 
 the corner of the Rue Champs Elyse'es, where he had first 
 met Herminie when the latter was on her way to the 
 house of Madame de Beaumesnil. 
 
 " It was here I met that young girl on the day of 
 Mornand's duel with the hunchback," Ravil said to him- 
 self. " She spent the night at the H6tel de Beaumesnil, 
 and the next day I ascertained from the servants that 
 she was a singing teacher, and lived on the Rue de 
 Monceau in the Batignolles. I've haunted that locality, 
 but have never been able to catch a glimpse of her. 
 Why the devil that pretty blonde took such a hold on 
 me I can't imagine ! If I had my percentage of the 
 little Beaumesnil's dowry I would certainly gratify my 
 fancy for that pretty musician, who carries herself like 
 a duchess, in spite of her shabby attire. I am quite sure 
 
 175
 
 PRIDE. 
 
 she wouldn't decline my offer of a neat little establish- 
 ment, for she must be nearly starving on her music 
 lessons. Now I must set to work to stir up Mornand. 
 He is stupid, but perseveres when you once get him 
 started. Rochaigue is all right, so our chances are 
 good." 
 
 And Ravil entered the abode of his intimate friend. 
 
 176
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 IN M. DE MORNAND'S STUDY. 
 
 " WELL ! " exclaimed M. de Mornand, as soon as he 
 saw Ravil enter his modest study filled with huge piles 
 of printed reports and all sorts of communications from 
 members of the Chamber of Deputies ; " well, have you 
 seen M. de Rochaigue ? " 
 
 " Yes, I have seen him, and everything looks very 
 promising." 
 
 " You may rest assured that I shall never forget your 
 kindness in the matter. It is evident that it is quite as 
 much a matter of friendship as of money with you, and 
 I am all the more grateful from the fact that your heart 
 is not supposed to be particularly vulnerable." 
 
 " It is vulnerable enough to you, and that is all that 
 is necessary in the present instance." 
 
 " And the governess, have you spoken to her ? " 
 
 " Not yet." 
 
 " Why not ? " 
 
 " Because several little matters must be settled between 
 us. I'll explain what they are presently ; besides, there 
 is no hurry. Madame Laine*, the governess, will do 
 whatever I wish, and whenever I wish it done." 
 
 " Whatever did Rochaigue say ? Is he satisfied with 
 the information he has secured in regard to me. Have 
 my colleagues and political supporters spoken a good 
 word for me ? Do you think ? " 
 
 " You give me no chance to answer any of your ques- 
 tions." 
 
 177
 
 PRIDE. 
 
 " But you see ever since the possibility of this marriage 
 first occurred to me and I have good reason to remem- 
 ber the date, for that ridiculous duel with that miserable 
 hunchback will always remind me of it," added M. de 
 Mornand, with a bitter smile " ever since the possibility 
 first occurred to me, as I said before, this marriage has 
 been a fixed idea with me. Situated as I am, it means 
 more than wealth to me, power the highest diplo- 
 matic positions will all be within my reach." 
 
 " Have you finished ? " 
 
 " Yes, yes, I am listening." 
 
 " That is fortunate. Very well, all the information 
 M. de la Rochaigue has received corroborates what I had 
 already told him. He is firmly convinced that you will 
 attain the position of minister or ambassador sooner or 
 later, but that the time would be greatly hastened by your 
 marriage with Mile, de Beaumesnil, for men who are 
 immensely rich are preferred for such positions, their 
 wealth being considered a guarantee against all sorts of 
 villainies. The good man is also certain that, if he brings 
 about your marriage with his ward, you will as soon as 
 you rise to power have him made a peer of France, for 
 if persons who are hung could be restored to life, this 
 man would willingly be hung to secure a seat in the 
 Luxembourg. It is an infirmity, a positive mania with 
 him, and you may rest assured that I have made the 
 most of it." 
 
 " If he brings about the marriage, his elevation to the 
 peerage is assured. He has been president of one of 
 the commissions for years, and I will nominate him at 
 once." 
 
 "He hasn't the slightest doubt of it, and, being an 
 old-fashioned sort of a man, he relies upon your promise, 
 and is willing to do anything in his power to further 
 your interests with his ward at once." 
 
 " Bravo ! and Mile, de Beaumesnil, what does he say 
 about her ? Being so young and so entirely alone in the 
 
 178
 
 IN M. DE MORNAND'S STUDY. 
 
 world, she isn't likely to offer much opposition, so I 
 should think he would feel pretty confident of success." 
 
 " He never saw her until last evening, you recollect, 
 but, thanks to a few judicious questions, he fancies he 
 has been able to discover that this young woman is 
 strongly inclined to be ambitious, and that her head 
 would be quite turned by the prospect of marrying a 
 future minister or ambassador, so she could have a crowd 
 of other women under her feet." 
 
 " That is truly providential ! " cried M. de Mornand, 
 almost beside himself with joy. " And when can I see 
 her?" 
 
 " I have an idea about that, but I concluded to say 
 nothing to Rochaigue on the subject until after I had 
 spoken to you." 
 
 " Well, well, let us hear the idea ! " said M. de Mor- 
 nand, rubbing his hands, jubilantly. 
 
 " In the first place, you must understand that you are 
 not handsome, that you are much too fat, that you have 
 entirely too large an abdomen, and anything but a dis- 
 tinguished air. Pardon my sincerity, it is a friend who 
 speaks." 
 
 " That is all right ! " responded Mornand, trying hard 
 to conceal the annoyance which his friend's plain speak- 
 ing caused. " Between friends one can say and hear 
 anything." 
 
 " That is an excellent maxim. I will therefore add 
 that you are neither attractive, clever, nor good-tem- 
 pered, but fortunately you have, or seem to have, a very 
 considerable amount of political tact. You have made 
 a careful study of the best means of corrupting con- 
 sciences; you were born a corrupter as one is born a 
 singer. Moreover, you are endowed with an eloquence 
 of the continuous flow sort, capable of extinguishing 
 and bewildering the best orators on the other side. 
 In a drawing-room you are heavy, clumsy, and awkward, 
 like all big men; but in the tribune, with the railing 
 
 179
 
 PRIDE. 
 
 concealing your abdomen, and your chest swelling out 
 majestically under your embroidered coat, you are quite 
 imposing, and can even be said to have some pretensions 
 to good looks." 
 
 " Of what earthly use is all this ? " retorted Mornand, 
 impatiently ; " you know very well that we politicians, 
 we men of mark, care nothing in the world about being 
 considered handsome." 
 
 " Oh, that is all nonsense ! Don't interrupt me. I 
 was about to say that so much depends upon a first 
 impression that it is by all means advisable that you 
 should appear before Mile, de Beaumesnil in your most 
 attractive guise, so you may fascinate and magnetise 
 her, so to speak. Do you understand ? " 
 
 "That is an excellent idea, but how is it to be 
 managed ? " 
 
 " You are to make a speech three days hence in the 
 Chamber, are you not ? " 
 
 " Yes, upon the cod fisheries, a speech full of dry 
 statistics." 
 
 " Ah, well, you must be flowery, poetical, pathetic, 
 pastoral, anything but statistical, and this is an easy 
 matter if you will only confine yourself to one side of 
 the question. You can talk of the fishermen and their 
 interesting families, the surf that breaks in thunder 
 upon the beach, the pale moonlight on the dunes, our 
 gallant navy, and all that kind of stuff." 
 
 " But I have considered the question from a purely 
 financial point of view." 
 
 " Then tear up that speech and write another, for you 
 must devote all the powers of your eloquence to dazzling 
 the little Beaumesnil." 
 
 " What on earth do you mean ? " 
 
 "Listen to me, innocent! Rochaigue shall be noti- 
 fied, and day after to-morrow the young lady will hear 
 everybody around her saying : ' On Thursday the elo- 
 quent M. Mornand, the future minister, is to speak in 
 
 180
 
 IN M. DE MORNAND'S STUDY. 
 
 the House of Peers. All Paris will be there. They are 
 issuing tickets of admission, for when M. de Mornand 
 speaks it is an event ! ' ' 
 
 " I understand. You are certainly nothing more or 
 less than a genius, Ravil ! " exclaimed M. de Mornand." 
 
 " M. de la Rochaigue will naturally inquire if Mile, 
 de Beaumesnil would not like to attend the session, and 
 we will arrange it so that Rochaigue will amuse the 
 girl with things outside until the time comes for you to 
 ascend the tribune and unloose the fountains of your 
 eloquence. I will then run out and warn the guardian, 
 who will come in with his ward to witness your triumph.'* 
 
 " Admirably planned ! " 
 
 " And if you can organise a claque from among your 
 colleagues to interlard your speech with exclamations of 
 ' Good ! Bravo ! Admirable ! ' our success is assured." 
 
 " The plan is admirable, as I said before. There is 
 but one thing that worries me." 
 
 And what is that ? " 
 
 " Why, as soon as my speech is ended that fool Mont- 
 didier will begin to contradict all I said. He isn't much 
 of a politician, and he is not at all practical, but he's as 
 witty and sarcastic as the devil, and doesn't hesitate to 
 say aloud what other people scarcely dare to think in 
 their most secret hearts. If he should begin that before 
 Mile, de Beaumesnil " 
 
 " Oh, you need have no fears on that score. As soon 
 as you have finished your speech, and while you are 
 receiving the congratulations of your colleagues, we will 
 exclaim : ' A magnificent effort, truly ! He is a Mira- 
 beau, a Fox, a Sheridan, a Canning! It is not worth 
 while to remain any longer. There will be nothing 
 worth listening to after that ! ' So we will hurry out 
 with the girl, after which Montdidier can ascend the 
 tribune and tear you to pieces and ridicule you as much 
 as he likes. But there is another means which I have 
 not mentioned before, an effectual means which I 
 
 181
 
 PRIDE. 
 
 have reserved until the last, but which will not only win 
 you the prize, but make it possible for you to retire 
 from political life if you like, and also to tell Rochaigue 
 in so many words that you cannot make him a peer of 
 France, for, thanks to a brilliant idea that has occurred 
 to me, the baron will not only do everything in his 
 power to further your marriage, but you will also have 
 Madame de la Rochaigue and her sister-in-law on your 
 side, though the most we can hope for now is that they 
 will remain neutral." 
 
 "Then why do you not employ this means, and at 
 once ? " 
 
 " I have hazarded a few words, thrown out a few 
 hints, but I have ventured nothing decisive." 
 
 And why not ? " 
 
 " You see I am not positive that that you will like 
 it. You might have scruples and yet the most honest 
 and highly respected men, even kings themselves " 
 
 " Kings themselves ? May I be hanged if I have the 
 slightest idea what you are driving at." 
 
 " But men are sometimes so absurdly sensitive on the 
 subject." 
 
 "Sensitive?" 
 
 " Still, one is not responsible for it. Can one fight 
 against nature ? " 
 
 " Against nature ? Really, Ravil, you must be losing 
 your wits. What do you mean by all this ? " 
 
 " You are fortunate, too, inasmuch as appearances are 
 in your favour. You are stout, you have rather a shrill 
 voice, and scarcely any beard " 
 
 And what of that ? " 
 
 " You don't understand me ? " 
 
 " No." 
 
 " And he calls himself a politician ? " 
 
 " What the devil do you mean by prating about my 
 shrill voice, my sparse beard, and my political astuteness? " 
 
 " Mornand, you make me doubt your sagacity. Think, 
 
 182
 
 IN M. DE MORNAND'S STUDY. 
 
 what did you say to me only day before yesterday 
 concerning the marriage of the young Queen of Spam." 
 
 " Day before yesterday ? " 
 
 " Yes, that state secret, you know." 
 
 " Hush, hush ! " 
 
 " Oh, you needn't be afraid, I shall be as silent as the 
 grave. Do you recollect now ? " 
 
 " Yes, I told you that if we could only marry a French 
 prince to the sister of the Queen of Spain, it would be 
 one of the most brilliant of diplomatic triumphs to give 
 the aforesaid queen, for a husband, a prince who offered 
 sufficient guarantees through his antecedents that 
 the queen would never have any children. The throne 
 would then pass eventually into the possession of her 
 sister's children, that is to say, into the possession of 
 French princes. A magnificent combination," added the 
 future minister, enthusiastically. " It would be a con- 
 tinuation of the policy of the Great Monarch ! " 
 
 " Well, the illustration is apt. Profit by it," retorted 
 Ravil, shrugging his shoulders. 
 
 " What do you mean ? " 
 
 "Answer me this: Who are Mile, de BeaumesniPs 
 only remaining relatives ? " 
 
 " M. de la Rochaigue, his sister, and, after them, M. de 
 la Rochaigue's daughter, who is married and resides in 
 the provinces." 
 
 " Exactly ; so if Mile, de Beaumesnil should die with- 
 out issue ? " 
 
 "It is the Rochaigue family that would inherit the 
 fortune. That is as plain as daylight. But what the 
 devil are you driving at ? " 
 
 " Wait ; now suppose that the Rochaigue family can 
 persuade Mile, de Beaumesnil to marry a man who 
 can furnish those same guarantees, those same reassur- 
 ing antecedents you spoke of as desirable in the Queen of 
 Spain's husband ? Would not the Rochaigue's find it 
 greatly to their interest to bring about a marriage that 
 
 183
 
 PRIDE. 
 
 would ensure them the possession of their young rela- 
 tive's wealth at some future day ? " 
 
 " I understand, Ravil," said M. de Mornand, thought- 
 fully, and as if deeply impressed by the grandeur of the 
 scheme. 
 
 " Tell me, then, are you willing that I should pose 
 you before the eyes of the Rochaigues as a man (except 
 for royal lineage) perfectly adapted to be the husband of 
 a Queen of Spain who has a French prince for a brother- 
 in-law ? It will ensure you the support of the baron's wife 
 and sister, remember." 
 
 After a prolonged silence, the Comte de Mornand said, 
 with a both diplomatic and majestic air : 
 
 " De Ravil, I give you carte blanche" 
 
 184
 
 CHAPTER XX. 
 
 ATTENTIONS TO THE HEIRESS. 
 
 NEAR the close of the day in which Ernestine de Beau- 
 mesnil had unconsciously been the object of so much 
 avaricious envy, and of so many more or less perfidious 
 machinations, the young girl was alone in one of her 
 sumptuous apartments, awaiting the dinner hour. 
 
 The richest heiress in France was far from being beau- 
 tiful or even pretty. Her high forehead, prominent cheek- 
 bones, and rather long chin imparted considerable irregu- 
 larity to her features, but this was soon forgotten in the 
 charm of the young girl's face and expression ; for the 
 forehead, fair as alabaster, and surrounded with a wealth 
 of rich chestnut hair, surmounted blue eyes of infinite 
 sweetness, while rich scarlet lips, pearl white teeth, and 
 a smile that was both ingennous and melancholy seemed 
 to implore forgiveness for the imperfections of the face. 
 
 Ernestine de Beaumesnil, who was now only sixteen, 
 had grown very rapidly, so, although her tall figure was 
 perfectly straight and symmetrical, the young girl, who 
 had but just regained her health, still held herself 
 slightly bent, an attitude which made the graceful lines 
 of her remarkably beautiful throat all the more noticeable. 
 
 In short, antiquated and common as the comparison 
 is, the expression, a lily bending upon its stem, described 
 Ernestine de Beaumesnil's appearance exactly. 
 
 Poor orphan, crushed by the sorrow which her 
 mother's death had caused her ! 
 
 185
 
 PRIDE. 
 
 Poor child, overwhelmed by the, to her, crushing 
 weight of her colossal wealth ! 
 
 Strange contrast, indeed ! It was pity, an even tender 
 pity which the face and eyes and attitude of this heiress 
 of almost royal wealth seemed to invoke ! 
 
 The plain black dress which Ernestine wore enhanced 
 the remarkable brilliancy of her complexion ; but as she 
 sat there with her hands folded upon her knees, and her 
 head bowed upon her breast, the young orphan looked 
 very sad and thoughtful. 
 
 It was half past five when the girl's governess stole 
 softly into the room and said : 
 
 " Will mademoiselle see Mile, de la Rochaigue ? " 
 
 " Certainly, my good Laine"," replied the girl, startled 
 out of her reverie. " Why doesn't Mile, de la Rochaigue 
 come in ? " 
 
 The governess went out and returned almost immedi- 
 ately, followed by Mile. Helena de la Rochaigue, who 
 made two profound and very ceremonious bows, which 
 the poor child instantly returned, surprised and pained 
 to see a woman of Mile. Helena's age approach her with 
 such obsequiousness. 
 
 " I thank Mile, de Beaumesnil for having kindly 
 granted me a moment's conversation," said Mile. 
 Helena, in a formal but extremely deferential tone, 
 making another low bow, which Ernestine returned as 
 before, after which she said, with evident embarrassment : 
 
 " I, too, have a favour to ask of you, Mile. Helena." 
 
 " Of me ? How glad I am ! " exclaimed M. Macreuse's 
 protectress, quickly. 
 
 " I beg you will have the goodness to call me Ernes- 
 tine instead of Mile, de Beaumesnil. If you knew how 
 it overawes me, mademoiselle." 
 
 " I feared I should displease you, mademoiselle, by 
 being more familiar." 
 
 " Once more I beseech you to say ' Ernestine ' and not 
 mademoiselle. Are we not relatives ? And after a little, 
 
 186
 
 ATTENTIONS TO THE HEIRESS. 
 
 if you find I am deserving of your love, you will say 
 ' My dear Ernestine,' will you not ? " 
 
 " Ah, my affection was won the moment I saw you, 
 my dear Ernestine," replied Helena, with effusion. " I 
 could see that all the Christian graces, so adorable in 
 one of your years, flourished in your heart. I will not 
 speak of your beauty, though it is so charmingly 
 spirituelle in its type, for you look like one of Ra- 
 phael's madonnas. Beauty," continued the devotee, cast- 
 ing down her eyes, "beauty is a fleeting gift and 
 valueless in the eyes of the Saviour, while the noble 
 qualities with which you are endowed will ensure your 
 eternal salvation." 
 
 Overwhelmed by this avalanche of extravagant praise, 
 the orphan did not know what to say in reply, and could 
 only stammer a feeble protest : 
 
 " I do not deserve such praise, mademoiselle," she 
 said, " and and 
 
 Then, well pleased to discover a means of escaping 
 this flattery which made a singularly unpleasant im- 
 pression upon her in spite of her inexperience, she 
 added : 
 
 " But you said you wished to ask me something, did 
 you not, mademoiselle ? " 
 
 " Yes," responded Helena, " I came to ask your wishes 
 in regard to service to-morrow." 
 
 " What service, mademoiselle ? " 
 
 " Why, the holy office we attend every day." 
 
 Then, seeing that Ernestine evinced some surprise, 
 Mile. Helena added, sanctimoniously : 
 
 " We go every day to pray an hour for the souls of 
 your father and mother." 
 
 Until then the young girl had never had any fixed 
 hour to pray for her father and mother. The orphan 
 prayed nearly all day ; that is to say, almost every min- 
 ute she was thinking with pious respect and ineffable 
 tenderness of the parents whose loss she so deeply 
 
 187
 
 PRIDE. 
 
 deplored. Now, scarcely daring to decline mademoi- 
 selle's invitation, Ernestine sadly replied : 
 
 " I thank you for the kind thought, mademoiselle. 
 I will accompany you, of course." 
 
 " The nine o'clock mass would be most suitable, I 
 think," said the devotee, " and that is said in the Chapel 
 of the Virgin, for whom you have a special preference, 
 I think you remarked last evening, Ernestine." 
 
 " Yes, mademoiselle, every Sunday in Italy I attended 
 mass in the Chapel of the Madonna, She, too, was a 
 mother, so it seemed most fitting that I should address 
 my prayers for my mother to her." 
 
 " They will certainly prove efficacious, Ernestine, and 
 as you have commenced your devotions under the invo- 
 cation of the mother of our blessed Saviour, it would be 
 well to continue them under the same protection, so we 
 will perform our devotions in the Chapel of the Virgin 
 every morning at nine o'clock." 
 
 " I will be ready, mademoiselle." 
 
 " Then will you authorise me to give the necessary 
 orders so your carriage and servants will be ready at 
 that hour?" 
 
 " My carriage, my servants ? " 
 
 " Certainly," said the devotee, with emphasis. " Your 
 carriage, with your own coat of arms emblazoned upon it, 
 and draped in mourning. One of the footmen will follow 
 us into the church, carrying a black velvet bag contain- 
 ing our prayer-books. You know, of course, that is the 
 custom followed by all people of fashion and position." 
 
 "Forgive me, mademoiselle, but I really do not see 
 the use of so much pomp. I go to church only to pray, 
 so can we not go afoot ? The weather is so delightful at 
 this season of the year." 
 
 " What an admirable example of modesty in the midst 
 of opulence, and simplicity in the midst of grandeur ! " 
 cried the devotee. " Ah, Ernestine, you have indeed 
 been blessed by the Saviour. Not a single virtue is 
 
 188
 
 ATTENTIONS TO THE HEIRESS. 
 
 lacking. You possess the rarest of all, saintly, divine 
 humility, you who are, nevertheless, the richest heiress 
 in France." 
 
 Ernestine gazed at Mile. Helena with increasing aston- 
 ishment. 
 
 The artless girl did not feel that she was expressing 
 any remarkably laudable sentiments in saying that she 
 preferred to walk to church on a delightful summer 
 morning ; so her surprise increased on hearing the 
 devotee continue to laud her to the skies in almost 
 ecstatic tones. 
 
 " The grace of Heaven has indeed touched your heart, 
 my dear Ernestine," she exclaimed. " Yes, yes, every- 
 thing indicates beyond a doubt that the Saviour has 
 blessed you by inspiring you with the most profoundly 
 religious sentiments, by giving you a taste for an exem- 
 plary life, spent in the exercise of a piety which does 
 not forbid those harmless diversions which may be 
 found in society. May God protect and watch over 
 you, my dear Ernestine, and soon, perhaps, he will give 
 you a still more unmistakable sign of his all-powerful 
 protection." 
 
 The loquacity of the usually silent and reserved dev- 
 otee was interrupted by the appearance of Madame 
 de la Rochaigue, who, less discreet than her sister-in-law, 
 entered unannounced. 
 
 The baroness, greatly surprised to find Ernestine t6te- 
 a-tete with Helena, eyed the latter rather suspiciously, 
 but the devotee assumed such a vacant and sanctimoni- 
 ous expression that the lady's suspicions were instantly 
 dispelled. 
 
 The orphan rose and advanced to meet Madame de la 
 Rochaigue who, bustling in, bright and sparkling and 
 smiling, said to the girl in the tenderest manner, seizing 
 both her hands : 
 
 " My dearest child, I have come if you will permit 
 me to keep you company until the dinner hour, for 
 
 189
 
 PRIDE. 
 
 I am really jealous of my dear sister-in-law's good 
 fortune." 
 
 " How very kind you all are to me, madame ! " re- 
 plied Ernestine, grateful for the kind attentions of the 
 baroness. 
 
 Helena rose to go, and, with the intention of anticipat- 
 ing any possible question Madame de la Rochaigue's 
 curiosity might prompt, said to the young girl : 
 
 " To-morrow morning at nine o'clock, that is under- 
 stood, is it not ? " 
 
 Then, after an affectionate nod of the head to the bar- 
 oness, Helena departed, escorted to the door by Mile, 
 de Beaumesnil. 
 
 As she was returning to Madame de la Rochaigue, 
 that lady drew back a few steps in proportion as Ernes- 
 tine approached, and said to her, in tones of tender 
 reproach : 
 
 " Ah, my dear, sweet child, you are incorrigible ! " 
 
 " And why, madame, do you say that ? " 
 
 " I am terribly, pitilessly, brutally plain-spoken as 
 I have told you. It is one of my greatest faults, so I 
 shall scold you, scold you every day of your life, if you 
 don't hold yourself straighter." 
 
 " It is true, madame, though I certainly try my best 
 not to bend over so." 
 
 " But I shall not allow it, my darling child. I shall 
 show you no mercy. What is the use of having such a 
 lovely figure if you do not show it off any better ? What 
 is the use of having such a charming face, with such 
 delicate features, and such an air of distinction, if you 
 keep your head always bowed ? " 
 
 " But, madame ! " exclaimed the orphan, no less em- 
 barrassed by these worldly eulogiums than by those 
 which the devotee had lavished upon her. 
 
 " Nor is this all," continued Madame de la Rochaigue, 
 with affectionate gaiety. " I have a good scolding in 
 store for that excellent Madame Laine". You have 
 
 190
 
 ATTENTIONS TO THE HEIRESS. 
 
 beautiful hair, and you would look a thousand times 
 better if you wore it in curls. The carriage of your 
 head is naturally so graceful and distinguished, when 
 you hold yourself erect, I mean of course, that long 
 curls would be wonderfully becoming to you." 
 
 " I have always worn my hair in this way, madame, 
 and have never thought of changing my style of coiffure, 
 it being, I confess, a matter of very little consequence 
 to me." 
 
 " And that is very wrong in you, my dearest, for I 
 want you to be attractive, very attractive. I am so 
 proud of my charming ward that I want her to outshine 
 everybody, even our greatest beauties." 
 
 " I could never hope to do that, madame," replied 
 Ernestine, with a gentle smile. 
 
 " But you must and shall, mademoiselle," laughingly 
 replied the baroness. " I want you to understand, once 
 for all, that my ambition for you knows no bounds. In 
 short, I mean that you shall be considered the prettiest 
 and most charming of young girls, as you will by and by 
 be known as the most elegant of women. It is true I 
 saw you first only yesterday, but from certain traits and 
 tendencies which I have noticed in you, I am sure, as I 
 remarked just now, that you were born to be a brilliant 
 star in the fashionable world." 
 
 " I, madame ? " exclaimed the orphan, wonderingly. 
 
 " Yes, I am positive of it, for to be the rage it is not 
 absolutely necessary to possess beauty or wealth or aris- 
 tocratic lineage, or to be a marquise or a duchess, 
 though it must be admitted that this last title aids one 
 very materially. No, no, the one essential, I assure you, 
 is a certain je ne sais quoi ! You have it ; it is the easiest 
 thing in the world to discern it in you." 
 
 " Really, madame, you amaze me," exclaimed the 
 poor child, utterly abashed. 
 
 "That is very natural, for you, of course, cannot 
 understand this, my dear child ; but I, who am studying 
 
 191
 
 PRIDE. 
 
 you with the proud but jealous eye of a mother, do 
 understand it. I can foresee what you will become, and 
 I rejoice at it. No life can be half as delightful as that 
 of one of society's favourites. Queen of every fete, her 
 life is a continual enchantment. And, now I think of 
 it, to give you some idea of the world of fashion over 
 which you are certainly destined to reign some day, I 
 will take you to the races in the Bois de Boulogne, 
 where you will see the creme de la crme of Parisian 
 society. It is a diversion entirely compatible with your 
 mourning." 
 
 " Excuse me, madame, but such crowds always 
 frighten me, and and " 
 
 " My darling child ! " exclaimed the baroness, inter- 
 rupting her ward, " it is useless to oppose me. I am the 
 most obstinate creature in the world. Besides, I insist 
 upon being treated as well as my good sister-in-law. 
 By the way, my dear, tell me right here and now what 
 you two have been plotting to do so early to-morrow 
 morning." 
 
 " Mile. Helena wishes to take me with her to church, 
 madame." 
 
 " She is right, my dearest child. One should never 
 neglect one's religious duties ; but nine o'clock that 
 is frightfully early. Women of fashion never go before 
 noon ; then one at least has time to make a handsome 
 morning toilet, and one also meets many of one's 
 acquaintances there." 
 
 " I am in the habit of rising early, madame, and as 
 Mile. Helena seemed to prefer going at nine o'clock, it 
 made no difference to me." 
 
 " My dear child, I told you a little while ago that I 
 should be appallingly frank with you." 
 
 " And I shall thank you very much for it, madame." 
 
 " Of course, you ought not to be proud and arrogant 
 because you are the richest heiress in France, but though 
 you should not abuse your power to impose your wishes 
 
 192
 
 ATTENTIONS TO THE HEIRESS. 
 
 and caprices upon others, there is certainly no need of 
 your going so far as to gratify the caprices of others. 
 Do not forget that your immense wealth 
 
 " Alas ! madame," said Ernestine, unable to repress 
 two big tears that rose to her eyes and then rolled slowly 
 down her cheeks, " on the contrary, I am doing my very 
 best to forget this wealth, for it reminds me that I am 
 an orphan." 
 
 " My poor dear little darling ! " exclaimed Madame 
 de la Rochaigue, embracing Ernestine effusively, " how 
 angry I am with myself for having unintentionally 
 grieved you. Dry those lovely eyes, I beg of you. It 
 makes me wretched to see you weep ! " 
 
 Ernestine wiped away her tears, and the baroness con- 
 tinued, affectionately : 
 
 " Come, my child, you must be brave and sensible. 
 Of course it is a terrible, an irreparable misfortune to 
 be an orphan, but as the misfortune is irreparable you 
 should make the best of it, and say to yourself that you at 
 least are blessed with some devoted relatives and friends, 
 and that, though the past is sad and gloomy, the future 
 may be most brilliant." 
 
 As Madame de la Rochaigue was thus consoling the 
 orphan, a deprecating rap was heard at the door. 
 
 " Who is it ? " inquired the baroness. 
 
 " Mile, de BeaumesmTs majordomo, who solicits the 
 honour of throwing himself at her feet." 
 
 Ernestine evinced so much surprise that the baroness 
 said, smilingly : 
 
 " It is only one of M. de la Rochaigue's jokes. It is 
 he who is at the door." 
 
 Mile, de Beaumesnil also tried to smile as the baroness 
 said, in a loud voice : 
 
 " Come in, M. majordomo, come in ! " 
 
 Whereupon the baron entered, showing his long teeth 
 more than ever in the broad smile his joke had inspired. 
 Approaching Ernestine with great deference, he bowed 
 
 193
 
 PRIDE. 
 
 low before her and even kissed her hand, saying as he 
 did so : 
 
 " Is my charming ward still content with me ? Is 
 anything lacking for her comfort? Does she find her 
 establishment on a suitable footing ? Has she discovered 
 any inconveniences in her apartments ? Is she satisfied 
 with her servants ? " 
 
 " There is nothing with which I can find the slightest 
 fault," answered Ernestine ; " quite the contrary, indeed, 
 for this magnificent suite of rooms, exclusively for my 
 use, is " 
 
 " Nothing can be too handsome or too luxurious for 
 the richest heiress in France," interrupted the baron, in 
 his most peremptory tones. 
 
 " I am deeply gratified and touched by the affectionate 
 welcome I have received from your family," said Ernes- 
 tine ; " and I assure you that everything else is of very 
 little importance to me." 
 
 Just then the folding doors opened, and the butler 
 announced, in a loud voice : " Mademoiselle is served." 
 
 194
 
 CHAPTER XXI. 
 
 THE HUNCHBACK MEETS THE HEIRESS. 
 
 THE baron offered his arm to Ernestine, and conducted 
 her into the dining-room. Helena came in a few minutes- 
 afterwards, a trifle late by reason of having despatched 
 a letter to Abb Ledoux, announcing her plans for the 
 morrow. 
 
 During the entire repast Ernestine was the object of 
 the most obsequious attentions, not only from the baron 
 and his wife and sister, but also from the servants, who 
 were as deeply impressed as their employers by the 
 magical power of those words, " the richest heiress in 
 France." 
 
 Towards the end of the meal, the baron, with the most 
 careless air imaginable, remarked to Mile, de Beaumesnil : 
 
 " Well, my dear ward, as you have now recovered 
 from the fatigue of your journey, it seems to me you 
 ought to go out to-morrow and amuse yourself a little." 
 
 " Helena and I think so, too," replied Madame de la 
 Rochaigue, " so your sister is going to take Ernestine 
 to church to-morrow morning. In the afternoon, Mile. 
 Palmyre and Mile. Barenne will come with some dresses 
 and hats I ordered yesterday for our dear child, and day 
 after to-morrow Ernestine and I are going for a drive." 
 
 " Capital, capital ! " exclaimed the baron. " I see 
 that to-morrow and the day after will be fully occupied, 
 but I think it is hardly fair for me to be so entirely left 
 out, so I beg to have my turn on the day following. 
 Will you grant my request?" 
 
 195
 
 PRIDE. 
 
 " Certainly, with the greatest pleasure," replied Ernes- 
 tine. 
 
 " The readiness of the response increases its value 
 two-fold," said the baron, with such evident gratitude 
 that the orphan was wondering what she could have 
 said when the baroness, turning to her husband, ex- 
 claimed : 
 
 " Well, let us hear your plans for your day, M. de la 
 Rochaigue." 
 
 " I am not so spiritual-minded as my sister, nor as 
 worldly as you, my dear," answered the baron, " so I am 
 going to propose to our dear ward (weather, of course, 
 permitting) a visit to one of the most beautiful gardens 
 in Paris, where she will see a wonderful collection of 
 plants and flowers." 
 
 " You could not have pleased me better, monsieur," 
 exclaimed Ernestine, delightedly. " I am so fond of 
 flowers." 
 
 " Nor is that all," added the baron, " for, as I am a 
 prudent man, in case of bad weather, my charming ward 
 and I can enjoy a promenade through several superb 
 conservatories, or a magnificent picture-gallery, rich in 
 masterpieces of the modern school of art." 
 
 " And where is this combination of rare and beautiful 
 things to be found, monsieur ? " inquired Ernestine, with 
 great interest. 
 
 " A nice Parisienne you are, and you, too, baroness, 
 and you, too, my sister," laughed M. de la Rochaigue, 
 with a knowing air, " for I see very plainly that none of 
 you have the slightest idea where this collection of won- 
 ders is to be found, though it is almost at your very 
 door." 
 
 " Really," began Mile, de la Rochaigue, " I have been 
 trying to think." 
 
 " And you can't imagine," retorted the baron, radiant. 
 " Ah, well, I will take pity on you. All these wonders 
 are to be found at the Luxembourg." 
 
 196
 
 THE HUNCHBACK MEETS THE HEIRESS. 
 
 " The Luxembourg ! " exclaimed the baroness, laugh- 
 ing. Then, turning to Ernestine : 
 
 " Ah, my dear child, it is a trap, an abominable trap, 
 M. de la Rochaigue has set for you. You don't know 
 my husband's passion for another of the wonders of the 
 Luxembourg. He has taken good care not to reveal 
 that, I'll be bound!" 
 
 " And what is this other attraction, madame ? " asked 
 the young girl, smiling. 
 
 " Ah, you poor, dear innocent, let me tell you that 
 M. de la Rochaigue is quite capable of taking you to 
 a session of the Chamber of Peers, under pretext of 
 showing you beautiful conservatories and flowers and 
 picture-galleries." 
 
 " Well, why should I not take her into the diplomatic 
 gallery, if she wishes ? " retorted the baron. " She will 
 find plenty of good company there in the shape of the 
 fortunate wives of foreign ambassadors and ministers, 
 for I maintain that there is not a more delightful, charm- 
 ing, and enviable position in the world than that of the 
 wife of a minister and ambassador. Ah, my dear wife," 
 added this unknown Canning, turning to the baroness, 
 " what would I not give to be able to elevate you to such 
 a position. You would be envied, flattered, adored ! You 
 would become, I am sure, a wonderfully clever politician ! 
 It is not unlikely that you would even control the state, 
 perhaps. Could any woman desire a grander r61e ? " 
 
 "You see what a dangerous flatterer M. de la Ro- 
 chaigue is, my dear child," remarked the baroness. 
 " He is quite capable of imbuing you with a taste for 
 politics, too." 
 
 "Me? Oh, I have no fear of that," responded 
 Ernestine, smiling. 
 
 "You may laugh at me as much as you like, my 
 dear," the baron said to his wife ; " but I do assert that 
 I perceive in our dear ward a thoughtfulness, a self- 
 control, and a power of discrimination remarkable in 
 
 197
 
 PRIDE. 
 
 one of her years, to say nothing of the fact that she 
 strikingly resembles the portrait of the beautiful and 
 famous Duchesse de Longueville, who exerted such a 
 marvellous influence in politics under the Fronde." 
 
 " Well, well, this is really too much," exclaimed the 
 baroness, interrupting her husband with a fresh outburst 
 of merriment. 
 
 The orphan, who had suddenly become thoughtful, 
 did not join in this gaiety. She was thinking how very 
 strange it was that within the last two hours three 
 persons had, in turn, discovered that she was so singu- 
 larly adapted to fill three such entirely different r61es, 
 viz. : That of a devotee, that of a woman of fashion, and 
 that of a female politician. 
 
 The conversation was interrupted by the sound of 
 carriage-wheels in the courtyard below. 
 
 " Haven't you given orders that you are not at home 
 this evening ? " inquired the baron, turning to his wife. 
 
 " No, but I am expecting no one, that is, no one 
 but Madame de Mirecourt, who, you know, occasionally 
 drops in for a few minutes on her way to some ball or 
 reception." 
 
 " Shall you see her in case she does ?" 
 
 " If it will not be disagreeable to you, and if you will 
 allow me to receive her in your drawing-room," said the 
 baroness, turning to Ernestine. " She is a very charming 
 woman." 
 
 " Do exactly as you please, madame," replied Er- 
 nestine, cordially. 
 
 " Show the visitor into Mile, de Beaumesnil's drawing- 
 room," the baroness said to one of the servants. 
 
 The man withdrew, but returned a moment afterwards 
 to say: 
 
 " I showed the visitor into mademoiselle's drawing- 
 room as madame ordered, but it is not Madame de 
 Mirecourt." 
 
 " Who is it, then ? " 
 
 198
 
 THE HUNCHBACK MEETS THE HEIRESS. 
 
 " M. le Marquis de Maillefort, madame." 
 
 " That detestable man ! " exclaimed the baron. " A 
 visit at this hour is an inexcusable familiarity on his 
 part." 
 
 The baroness motioned to her husband to be more 
 guarded before the servants, then whispered to Ernestine, 
 who seemed surprised at this incident : 
 
 " M. de la Rochaigue does not like M. de Maillefort, 
 who is really one of the most spiteful and mischief- 
 making hunchbacks imaginable." 
 
 " A positive devil ! " added Helena. 
 
 " It seems to me that I have heard my mother speak 
 of a M. de Maillefort," remarked Ernestine, thoughtfully. 
 
 " That is more than likely, my dearest child," replied 
 the baroness, smiling, " though no one ever speaks of 
 M. de Maillefort as one's good angel." 
 
 " I do not recollect to have heard her say anything 
 either good or bad about M. de Maillefort," answered 
 the orphan. " I merely remember the name." 
 
 " And the name is that of a veritable ogre," said the 
 baron, spitefully. 
 
 " But if M. de Maillefort is so objectionable, why do 
 you receive him, madame ? " inquired the orphan, hesi- 
 tatingly. 
 
 " Ah, my dear child, in society one is obliged to make 
 many concessions, particularly when a person of M. de 
 Maillefort' s birth is concerned." 
 
 Then addressing the baron, she added : 
 
 "It is impossible to prolong the meal further, for 
 coffee has been served in the drawing-room." 
 
 Madame de la Rochaigue arose from the table. The 
 baron, concealing his annoyance as best he could, offered 
 his arm to his ward, and the entire party returned to 
 the drawing-room where M. de Maillefort was waiting. 
 
 The marquis had so long been accustomed to conceal- 
 ing his love for Madame de Beaumesnil, the one 
 passion of his life, but one which she alone had divined, 
 
 199
 
 PRIDE. 
 
 that, on seeing Ernestine, he betrayed none of the 
 interest he felt in her. He remembered, too, not with- 
 out annoyance, that it would be necessary to appear curt 
 and sarcastic before the orphan, as any sudden change 
 in his manner or language would be sure to arouse the 
 suspicions of the Rochaigue's, and, in order to protect 
 Ernestine from them, and, perhaps, even from herself, 
 or, in other words, to carry out her mother's last wishes, 
 he must carefully refrain from exciting the distrust of 
 those around her. 
 
 M. de Maillefort, who was endowed with remarkably 
 acute powers of perception, noted, with a pang of real 
 anguish, the unpleasant impression his appearance 
 seemed to make upon Ernestine ; for the latter, still 
 under the influence of the slanders that had been heaped 
 upon him, had involuntarily shuddered, and averted her 
 gaze from his distorted form. 
 
 Painful as the feelings of the marquis were, he had 
 the courage to conceal them, and, advancing towards 
 Madame de la Rochaigue, with a smile on his lips and 
 an ironical gleam in his eye, he said : 
 
 " I am very bold, am I not, my dear baroness ? But 
 you know, or rather you are ignorant, that one has friends 
 only to impose upon their good nature, at least unless, 
 like Mile, de la Rochaigue here," he added, bowing low 
 to that lady, " one has no faults at all, but is nothing 
 more or less than an angel descended from heaven for 
 the edification of the faithful. Then it is even worse, 
 I believe, for when one is perfect, one inspires 
 one's friends with envy, or with admiration, for with 
 many people these two sentiments are one and the 
 same." 
 
 Then, turning to M. de la Rochaigue, he continued : 
 
 " Am I not right, baron ? I appeal to you who have 
 the good fortune not to wound either by your virtues or 
 your failings." 
 
 The baron smiled until he showed his long teeth in 
 200
 
 THE HUNCHBACK MEETS THE HEIRESS. 
 
 the most startling fashion, then, trying to conceal his 
 ill-humour, he exclaimed : 
 
 " Ah, marquis, marquis, always sarcastic, but always 
 charming ! " 
 
 Then seeing that he could not avoid introducing M. de 
 Maillefort to Ernestine, who was watching the hunch- 
 back with growing uneasiness, the baron said to his ward : 
 
 " My dear Ernestine, allow me to introduce M. le 
 Marquis de Maillefort, one of my particular friends." 
 
 After bowing to the young girl, who returned the bow 
 with an embarrassed air, the hunchback said, with formal 
 politeness : 
 
 " I am delighted, mademoiselle, to have still another 
 reason for often coming to Madame de la Rochaigue's 
 house." 
 
 And as if he considered himself released from the 
 necessity of paying any further attention to the orphan 
 by this commonplace remark, he bowed again, and then 
 took a seat beside the baroness, while her husband tried 
 to conceal his ill-temper by sipping his coffee very 
 slowly, and Helena took Ernestine a few steps aside, 
 under pretext of calling her attention to the plants in 
 a jardinidre. 
 
 The marquis, without seeming to pay the slightest 
 attention to Ernestine, never once lost sight of them. 
 He had a remarkably keen sense of hearing, and he 
 hoped to catch a few words of the conversation between 
 the devotee and the orphan, while he chatted gaily with 
 Madame de la Rochaigue, both of them endeavouring to 
 conceal their real thoughts under the airiest persiflage, 
 and to try and discover what the other was driving at, 
 in vulgar parlance. 
 
 The frivolous character of such a conversation favoured 
 the hunchback's intentions, so, while he listened to Ma- 
 dame de la Rochaigue with a distrait ear, he listened 
 eagerly with the other to Ernestine, the baron, and 
 Helena. 
 
 201
 
 PRIDE. 
 
 The devotee and her brother, believing the marquis 
 absorbed in his conversation with Madame de la Ro- 
 chaigue, reminded the orphan, in the course of their 
 conversation, of the promise she had made to accom- 
 pany Helena to church the next morning at nine o'clock, 
 and also to go with the baron a couple of days afterwards 
 to view the wonders of the Luxembourg. 
 
 Though there was nothing extraordinary in these 
 plans, M. de Maillefort's distrust of the Rochaigue 
 family was so great that he deemed it advisable to 
 neglect no detail, however insignificant it might appear, 
 so he noted these facts carefully, even while replying 
 with his accustomed wit to Madame de la Rochaigue's 
 commonplaces. 
 
 The hunchback's attention had been divided in this 
 way for, perhaps, a quarter of an hour, when he saw, 
 out of the corner of his eye, Helena make a whispered 
 remark to Ernestine, accompanied by a glance at Madame 
 de la Rochaigue, as if to say that it was not worth while 
 to interrupt her conversation, after which the orphan, 
 Helena, and the baron left the room. 
 
 Madame de la Rochaigue did not perceive their inten- 
 tion until the door closed behind them, but their de- 
 parture suited her perfectly. The presence of other 
 persons would prevent the explanation she considered it 
 absolutely necessary to have with the marquis, for she 
 was too shrewd and too well versed in the ways of the 
 world not to have felt certain, as she had said to her 
 husband, that the marquis, in thus renewing their ac- 
 quaintance after a long interruption, had been actuated 
 by a desire to meet the heiress, concerning whom, con- 
 sequently, he must have some secret designs. 
 
 The hunchback's love for Madame de Beaumesnil 
 having been suspected by no one, and his last interview 
 with the dying countess being likewise a secret, Madame 
 de la Rochaigue did not and could not suspect the solici- 
 tude the marquis felt concerning Ernestine. 
 
 202
 
 THE HUNCHBACK MEETS THE HEIRESS. 
 
 But wishing to ascertain the designs of the hunchback, 
 so as to circumvent them if they interfered with her own, 
 Madame de la Rochaigue abruptly changed the subject 
 as soon as the door had closed upon the orphan, by 
 saying : 
 
 " Well, marquis, what do you think of Mile, de 
 Beaumesnil ? " 
 
 " I think her very generous." 
 
 " Very generous, marquis ? What do you mean by 
 that?" 
 
 " Why, with her fortune, your ward would have a 
 perfect right to be as ugly and humpbacked as I am. 
 But does she really possess many admirable traits of 
 character ? " 
 
 " I have known her so short a time, I scarcely know 
 how to answer you." 
 
 " Why this reticence ? You must feel sure that I did 
 not come to ask your ward's hand in marriage." 
 
 " Who knows ? " retorted the baroness, laughing. 
 
 " I know, and I have told you." 
 
 " Seriously, marquis, I am positive that at this very 
 moment a hundred matrimonial projects have already 
 been formed 
 
 " Against Mile, de Beaumesnil ? " 
 " * Against ' is very suggestive. But one moment, mar- 
 quis. I wish to be perfectly frank with you." 
 
 " Indeed ! " exclaimed the hunchback, in mocking sur- 
 prise. " Ah, well, so do I. Come, my dear baroness, let 
 us have this little treat in the way of sincerity, which is 
 such a rare thing, alas ! " 
 
 And M. de Maillefort drew his chair nearer the sofa 
 on which the baroness was seated. 
 
 203
 
 CHAPTER XXII. 
 
 AN ORGY OF SINCERITY. 
 
 AFTER a moment's silence, Madame de la Kochaigue, 
 with a penetrating glance at M. de Maillefort, said : 
 
 " Marquis, I understand you." 
 
 Bah ! " 
 
 " Understand you perfectly." 
 
 " You do everything to perfection, so this does not 
 surprise me. But let me hear the proofs of these sur- 
 prising powers of penetration on your part." 
 
 " For fear of harrowing my feelings too much, I will 
 not count the number of years during which you never 
 set foot in my house, and now you suddenly return with 
 a truly flattering eagerness. So, being a sensible woman, 
 and not a mere bundle of conceit, I say to myself " 
 
 " Come, baroness, what is it you say to yourself ? " 
 
 " I say to myself simply this : ' After M. de Maille- 
 fort's long desertion of me, to what am I now indebted 
 for the novel pleasure of seeing him so often ? It must 
 be because I am Mile, de Beaumesnil's guardian, and 
 because this most estimable marquis has some special 
 reason for again favouring me with his visits.' " 
 
 " You are about right, baroness, upon my word." 
 
 What ! you admit it ? " 
 
 " I am compelled to." 
 
 " You almost make me doubt my powers of penetra- 
 tion by your prompt confession, marquis." 
 
 "Are we not striving to outdo each other in frank- 
 ness ? " 
 
 204
 
 AN ORGY OF SINCERITY. 
 
 " True ; I forgot that." 
 
 " And now I, in my turn, will explain why I so sud- 
 denly ceased to visit your house. You see, madame, I 
 am something of a stoic, and when anything gives me 
 very great pleasure I suddenly renounce it, so I may 
 not allow myself to become enervated by too much pleas- 
 ure. That is why I suddenly ceased to visit you." 
 
 " I would like to believe it, but " 
 
 " You can at least try. As to the resumption of my 
 visits " 
 
 " Ah, that is the most curious part ): 
 
 " You have guessed the reason pretty nearly." 
 
 " Pretty nearly, marquis ? " 
 
 " Yes, for though I have no special plans in relation 
 to the subject of your ward's marriage, I can't help say- 
 ing to myself that this great heiress is sure to draw a 
 crowd of unscrupulous fortune-hunters around her, and 
 Madame de la Rochaigue's house will soon be the scene 
 of all sorts of amusing intrigues. A person who desires 
 to see all the amusing acts of this comedy can view 
 them from the reserved seats, so to speak, in Madame 
 de la Rochaigue's house. At my age, and made as I am, 
 I have no other amusement in the world except what 
 observation affords me ; so I intend to frequent Madame 
 de la Rochaigue's house for that purpose. She will 
 receive me, because she received me years ago, and be- 
 cause, after all, I am not any more stupid, nor any more 
 of a bore than other people. So, from my quiet corner, 
 I will watch the fierce struggle between the rival suitors. 
 This is the truth, and now, baroness, you surely will not 
 be so hard-hearted as to refuse me a place in your draw- 
 ing-room where I can watch this contest, of which your 
 ward is to be the prize." 
 
 " But, marquis, you are not one of those persons who 
 can watch people fight, without taking a hand in it your- 
 self," said Madame de la Rochaigue, shaking her head. 
 
 " Well, I can't say that I am." 
 
 205
 
 PRIDE. 
 
 " So you will not remain neutral." 
 
 " I don't know about that," answered the marquis. 
 
 Then, emphasising the words strongly, he added : 
 
 " As I am experienced in the ways of the world, as I 
 have a horror of cowardice and conceit, and as I have 
 always maintained my habit of plain speaking, I admit 
 that if I should see a brave warrior, whose courage and 
 worth have interested me, perfidiously attacked, I should 
 be very likely to come to that person's assistance with 
 all the means at my disposal." 
 
 " But this, permit me to say, monsieur," responded the 
 baroness, concealing her anger under a forced laugh, 
 " is nothing more nor less than a sort of inquisition, of 
 which you will be the inquisitor-general, and which will 
 be located in my house." 
 
 " Yes, in your house, or elsewhere ; for you know, 
 baroness, that if the whim should seize you, every 
 pretty woman, you know, must have her whims, and you 
 are certainly entitled to a good many of them, I repeat 
 that, if the whim should seize you, you could easily tell 
 your servants that in future you will never be at home 
 to me." 
 
 " Why, marquis, can you suppose ? " 
 
 " I was only jesting," replied M. de Maillefort, dryly. 
 " The baron is too sensible a man to allow your doors to 
 be closed against me without a cause, and he will spare 
 me, I am sure, any explanation on the subject. I have 
 the honour to tell you, my dear baroness, that having 
 resolved to watch these very amusing doings, to see, in 
 fact, how the richest heiress in France is married off, I 
 can establish my point of observation almost anywhere, 
 for, in spite of my diminutive stature, I can manage to 
 see from almost any position, high or low." 
 
 " Then, my dear marquis, you must confess that it is 
 an offensive and defensive alliance you are proposing to 
 me," said Madame de la Rochaigue, with the same forced 
 smile. 
 
 206
 
 AN ORGY OF SINCERITY. 
 
 " Not the least bit in the world. I shall neither be 
 for you nor against you. I shall merely watch what 
 goes on, with a keen eye, and perhaps try to aid this 
 suitor, or to circumvent the other suitor, according to 
 my best judgment and my feeble resources, if the desire 
 seizes me, or rather if justice and truth demand it, for 
 you know I am very peculiar in my notions." 
 
 " But why not content yourself with the r<51e of a 
 looker-on ? Why can you not remain neutral ? " 
 
 " Because, as you yourself remarked just now, my dear 
 baroness, I am not one of those persons who can watch 
 others fight without taking a hand in the fight myself." 
 
 " But," said Madame de la Rochaigue, quite at her 
 wits' end, "suppose, and it is merely a supposition, 
 for we have decided not to think of Ernestine's marriage 
 for a long time yet, suppose, I say, that we did have 
 some one in view for her, what would you do ? " 
 
 " I haven't the slightest idea, upon my word ! " 
 
 " Come, come, M. le marquis, you are not acting fairly 
 with me. You have some scheme of your own." 
 
 " Nothing of the kind. I do not know Mile, de Beau- 
 mesnil ; I have no suitor to suggest for her. I am, con- 
 sequently, an entirely disinterested looker-on, and, this 
 being the case, my dear baroness, I do not exactly 
 understand why you should have any objection to my 
 watching the amusing proceedings." 
 
 " That is true," said Madame de la Rochaigue, recov- 
 ering her composure, " for, after all, in marrying Ernes- 
 tine, what can we have in view, except her happiness ? " 
 
 " Nothing, of course." 
 
 " Consequently, we have nothing to fear from your 
 observation, as you call it, my dear marquis." 
 
 " Nothing, absolutely nothing." 
 
 " For, in case we should make a mistake " 
 
 " Which may happen to any one, even one who has 
 the best intentions in the world." 
 
 " Certainly, marquis. Well, in that event, you would 
 
 207
 
 PRIDE. 
 
 not fail to come to our assistance, and warn us of our 
 danger." 
 
 " That is what an observer is for," laughingly re- 
 marked M. de Maillefort, rising to take leave. 
 
 " What, marquis, you are going so soon ? " 
 
 " To my great regret. I must make the tour of five 
 or six drawing-rooms, to hear what people are saying 
 about your young heiress. You have no idea how 
 amusing, curious, and sometimes revolting the remarks 
 upon the subject of her immense dowry are ! " 
 
 "Ah, well, my dear marquis," said Madame de la 
 Rochaigue, offering her hand to the hunchback in the 
 most cordial manner, " I hope to see you often, very 
 often ; and as all this seems to interest you so much, I 
 shall keep you fully posted." 
 
 "And I, too, will promise to tell you everything I 
 hear. It will be wonderfully amusing. And, by the 
 way," added the marquis, with the most careless air 
 imaginable, though he had come to Madame de la Ro- 
 chaigue's house as much to endeavour to secure some 
 light upon an as yet impenetrable mystery as to see 
 Ernestine, " by the way, did you ever hear anything 
 about an illegitimate child that M. de Beaumesnil left ? " 
 
 " M. de Beaumesnil ? " asked the baroness, with evi- 
 dent surprise. 
 
 " Yes," replied the hunchback, for, in putting the 
 question thus, he hoped to attain his object without 
 endangering the secret he thought he had discovered in 
 relation to Madame de Beaumesnil ; " yes, did you never 
 hear that M. de Beaumesnil had an illegitimate child ?" 
 
 " No," replied the baroness, " this is the first time I 
 ever heard of any such rumour, though a long while ago 
 there was some talk about a liaison the countess had 
 prior to her marriage. It must, consequently, have 
 been in connection with her that you heard this story 
 of an illegitimate child, but I, myself, have never heard 
 anything on the subject before." 
 
 208
 
 AN ORGY OF SINCERITY. 
 
 " Then whether this rumour relates to the count or the 
 countess, there is evidently not the slightest truth in it, 
 my dear baroness, for, by reason of your close connec- 
 tion with the family, you would have been sure to know 
 of the matter." 
 
 "And I assure you, marquis, that we have never 
 heard or seen anything that would lead us to suppose 
 that either M. or Madame de Beaumesnil left any illegit- 
 imate child." 
 
 M. de Maillefort, who was endowed with an unusual 
 amount of penetration, as well as tact, now felt fully 
 convinced of Madame de la Rochaigue's entire ignorance 
 of the existence of any illegitimate child, and the failure 
 of this fresh attempt on his part caused him deep cha- 
 grin, particularly as he began to despair of discovering 
 any trace of this unknown child, and of thus complying 
 with Madame de Beaumesnil's dying request. 
 
 Madame de la Rochaigue, without appearing to notice 
 the hunchback's preoccupation, continued, gaily : 
 
 " It is really very amusing to listen to all the rumours 
 that are afloat concerning our ward's inheritance, as well 
 as the large but singular legacies left by the countess." 
 
 "Indeed?" 
 
 " There is little or no foundation for these absurd 
 reports," continued the baroness, in supercilious tones, 
 for she had always disliked Madame de Beaumesnil. 
 " The countess left a few trifling legacies to three or four 
 old retainers, and small gratuities to her other servants. 
 That is all the magnificent legacies, of which everybody 
 is talking, amount to. But while the countess was in 
 such a generous mood, she ought not to have been guilty 
 of the ingratitude of forgetting a poor girl to whom she 
 certainly owed some recognition of her services." 
 
 " To whom do you refer ? " asked the marquis, con- 
 cealing the pain he felt on hearing the baroness thus 
 asperse Madame de Beaumesnil's memory. " Of what 
 young girl are you speaking ? " 
 
 209
 
 PRIDE. 
 
 " You have not heard, then, that, during the last days 
 of her life, the countess, at the advice of her physician, 
 summoned to her bedside a young and talented musician, 
 who assisted not a little in assuaging the lady's suffer- 
 ings ? " 
 
 " It seems to me that I do recollect hearing this fact 
 spoken of," answered the marquis. 
 
 " Well, does it not seem monstrous that the countess 
 did not leave even a slight legacy to this poor girl ? It 
 may have been an oversight on her part, but, to me, 
 it looks exceedingly like ingratitude." 
 
 The marquis knew Madame de Beaumesnil's kindness 
 and nobility of heart so well that he, too, was struck by 
 this apparent forgetfulness of the young artiste's claims. 
 
 After a moment of reflection, however, he vaguely felt 
 that, inasmuch as such an oversight, if real, was inex- 
 plicable, there must have been something more than a 
 mere failure of memory in the circumstance, so he said : 
 
 " You are sure, madame, that this young girl received 
 no remuneration from Madame de Beaumesnil for her 
 services ? You are positive of it ? " 
 
 "We were so unanimously convinced of the fact," 
 replied the baroness, delighted at this opportunity to 
 show her generosity, " that, deploring this ingratitude on 
 the part of the countess, we decided to send five hundred 
 francs to the young girl." 
 
 " That was only just." 
 
 " I think so, too, but what do you think came of it ? " 
 
 " I haven't the slightest idea." 
 
 " Well, the young artiste brought the five hundred 
 francs back to us and told us that she had been paid." 
 
 " She must be a noble-hearted girl," exclaimed the 
 marquis ; " but you see from that, that the countess had 
 not forgotten the young musician, after all. Doubtless, 
 she must have given her a suitable token of her grati- 
 tude while she was alive instead of leaving her a legacy." 
 
 " You would not think so, monsieur, if you had seen 
 210
 
 AN ORGY OF SINCERITY. 
 
 how indicative of decent poverty the young girl's gar- 
 ments were. She would certainly have been better 
 dressed if she had been a recipient of Madame de 
 BeaumesniPs bounty. In fact, the young artiste, who, 
 by the way, is wonderfully handsome, so excited my com- 
 passion and admiration by the delicacy of her conduct 
 that I suggested she should come and give Ernestine 
 music lessons." 
 
 " You did ? Why, that was very noble of you ! " 
 
 " Your astonishment is not very flattering, marquis." 
 
 " You mistake admiration for astonishment, baroness. 
 I am not surprised in the least. I know the wonderful 
 kindness and gentleness of your heart too well," added 
 M. de Maillefort, concealing his hope that he had at last 
 found the desired clue under his usual persiflage. 
 
 " Instead of making fun of my kindness of heart, 
 marquis," replied Madame de la Rochaigue, " you ought 
 to imitate it by endeavouring to procure the poor young 
 girl some pupils among your numerous acquaintances." 
 
 " Certainly," replied the marquis, rather indifferently, 
 however ; " I will do the best I can for your prote'ge'e, 
 though I am not considered much of a musical connois- 
 seur, I fear. But what is this young girl's name, and 
 where does she live ? " 
 
 " Her name is Herminie, and she lives on the Rue de 
 Monceau. I don't remember the number, but I will 
 ascertain and let you know." 
 
 " I will secure some pupils for Mile. Herminie if I 
 can ; but, in return, if I should ever ask your protection 
 for some suitor for Mile, de Beaumesnil's hand, some 
 suitor whom I see getting the worst of it in the mel^e, 
 you will grant my request, will you not ? " 
 
 " You set a high value on your services, I must say, 
 marquis," replied the baroness, laughing in a very con- 
 strained way ; " but I am sure we shall come to an 
 amicable understanding." 
 
 " You can not imagine how deeply I rejoice in advance 
 
 211
 
 PRIDE. 
 
 at the touching harmony which is henceforth to exist 
 between us, my dear baroness. Well, after all, let us 
 admit that this little orgy of sincerity has been of im- 
 mense advantage to us. We are full of confidence in 
 each other now, are we not, my dear baroness ? " 
 
 " Unquestionably, and mutual confidence, alas, is so 
 rare ! " exclaimed the baroness, with a sigh. 
 
 " But all the more precious when it is found, eh, my 
 dear baroness ? " 
 
 " Unquestionably, my dear marquis. Au revoir, then, 
 if you must go. I shall hope to see you again very soon." 
 
 " I trust so," responded M. de Maillefort, as he left the 
 room. 
 
 " Detestable man!" exclaimed Madame de la Eochaigue, 
 springing from the sofa, and beginning to pace the room 
 excitedly, while she gave vent] to her long-repressed feel- 
 ings. "Every word that accursed hunchback uttered 
 contained either a sarcasm or a threat," she added, 
 venomously. 
 
 "He's a contemptible scoundrel! There isn't the 
 slightest doubt of it," exclaimed the baron, suddenly 
 drawing aside the portieres at one of the doors opening 
 into the drawing-room. 
 
 212
 
 CHAPTER XXIII. 
 
 AN INVOLUNTARY AVERSION. 
 
 ON seeing M. de la Rochaigue thus reappear near the 
 sofa where she had sat during her conversation with M. 
 de Maillefort, the baroness exclaimed : 
 
 " What, monsieur, were you there ? " 
 
 " Certainly, for suspecting that your interview with 
 M. de Maillefort would prove exceedingly interesting as 
 soon as you two were left alone together, I slipped into 
 the little salon, and have been listening there behind the 
 portieres close to you." 
 
 " You heard what that detestable marquis said, then ? "" 
 
 " Yes, madame, and I also noticed that you were so 
 weak as to ask him to come again, instead of giving him 
 plainly to understand that his presence here was no longer 
 desired. You had a fine opportunity to do it, and you 
 should have availed yourself of it." 
 
 " But, monsieur, is not the Marquis de Maillefort as 
 dangerous in one place as another ? He made me under- 
 stand that very plainly ; besides, one can not treat a man 
 of M. de Maillefort's lineage and importance in a rude 
 manner." 
 
 " What do you suppose would happen if you did ? " 
 
 " This : the marquis would undoubtedly demand satis- 
 faction of you for such an insult. Are you not aware 
 that he has fought a number of duels, all of which re- 
 sulted disastrously for his opponents, and have you not 
 heard that only a few days ago he forced M. de Mornand 
 
 213
 
 PRIDE. 
 
 to fight merely on account of an ill-timed jest in which 
 the latter indulged ? " 
 
 " But I, madame, am not as obliging and simple as M. 
 de Mornand. I would not have fought." 
 
 " Then, M. de Maillefort would have made your life a 
 burden by his sneers and ridicule, until you would have 
 been compelled to hide yourself from very shame." 
 
 " But are there no laws to protect a man from such a 
 monster ? Ah, if I were in the Chamber of Peers such 
 scandalous proceedings should not go unpunished ! An 
 honest man should not be at the mercy of the first cut- 
 throat that happens to come along ! " exclaimed the in- 
 dignant baron. " But in heaven's name, what is the 
 matter with him, what does this damned marquis 
 want, anyhow ? " 
 
 " You must have very little penetration, monsieur, 
 for he certainly talked with almost brutal frankness, it 
 seemed to me. Others would have resorted to circumlocu- 
 tion and even falsehood, but M. de Maillefort ? no, ' You 
 intend to marry off Mile, de Beaumesnil,' he says. ' I 
 intend to see in what manner and to whom you marry 
 her, and if your choice does not please me I shall inter- 
 fere.' This is what he had the audacity to say to me, 
 and he is hi a position to carry out his threat." 
 
 " Fortunately, Ernestine seems to have taken an intense 
 dislike to this horrid hunchback, and Helena must tell 
 her that he was the mortal enemy of the countess." 
 
 " What good will that do ? Suppose we should find a 
 party that suited us and Ernestine, isn't the marquis, 
 by his sneers and sarcasms, quite capable of inspiring 
 the innocent girl with an aversion for the very person 
 we want her to marry ? And it is not only here, in 
 this house, that he can play us this shameful trick, 
 and many others that he is capable of concocting, 
 but he can do it anywhere and everywhere he meets 
 Ernestine, for we cannot hide her. We shall be obliged 
 to take her out into society." 
 
 214
 
 AN INVOLUNTARY AVERSION. 
 
 " Is it this that you fear most ? I should be of the 
 same opinion, perhaps, if " 
 
 " Do you suppose I know what I fear ? I would a 
 hundred times rather have some real danger to contend 
 with, no matter how threatening it might be, for then 
 I should at least know what the danger was, and per- 
 haps contrive to escape it, while now the marquis will 
 keep us in a state of perplexity that may cause us to 
 commit a thousand blunders, and hamper us in every 
 way. Consequently there is nothing for us to do but 
 look the situation straight in the face and say to our- 
 selves : ' Here is a man of wonderful discernment and 
 diabolical cleverness, who sees, or will endeavour to see 
 and know, all that we do, and who, unfortunately, has a 
 thousand means of attaining his ends, while we have no 
 means whatever of escaping his surveillance.' " 
 
 " I am more and more convinced that the opinion I 
 expressed a short time ago is a just and correct one," 
 said the baron, complacently. 
 
 What opinion ? " 
 
 " That the marquis is an abominable scoundrel." 
 
 " Good evening, monsieur," said Madame de la Ro- 
 chaigue, wrathfully, starting towards the door. 
 
 "What, you are going like that when we are 
 in such desperate straits, and without coming to any 
 decision ! " 
 
 " Decision about what ? " 
 
 " Why, about what we shall do in the matter." 
 
 " I know one thing ! " exclaimed Madame de la Ro- 
 chaigue, completely beside herself, and stamping her 
 foot angrily, " this abominable hunchback has demoral- 
 ised me completely, and you you finish by utterly 
 stupefying me with your asinine remarks." 
 
 And Madame de la Rochaigue flounced out of the 
 room, slamming the door violently in the baron's very 
 face. 
 
 During the conversation between Madame de la Rochai- 
 
 215
 
 PRIDE. 
 
 gue and M. de Maillefort, Helena had taken Mile, de 
 Beaumesnil back to her own room. As she was about 
 to leave the young girl she said : 
 
 " Sleep well, my dear Ernestine, and pray to the 
 Saviour that he will not allow the face of that frightful 
 M. de Maillefort to trouble your dreams." 
 
 " I really don't know why it is, mademoiselle, but he 
 almost terrifies me." 
 
 "The feeling is very natural," replied the devotee, 
 gently; "more natural than you suppose, for if you 
 knew " 
 
 As Helena paused, the young girl said : 
 
 " You did not finish, mademoiselle." 
 
 " There are some things which it pains one to say 
 against one's neighbour, even though he may deserve 
 it," remarked the devotee, with a saintly air. " This 
 M. de Maillefort " 
 
 " Well, mademoiselle ? " 
 
 " I am afraid of paining you, my dear Ernestine " 
 
 " Go on, I beg of you, mademoiselle." 
 
 " Ah, well, as you insist, I am compelled to tell you 
 that this Marquis de Maillefort has always been one of 
 your mother's bitterest enemies." 
 
 " My mother's ? " cried Mile, de Beaumesnil, wonder- 
 ingly. 
 
 Then she added, with touching naivete* : 
 
 " Some one must have deceived you, mademoiselle. 
 My mother could not have had any enemies." 
 
 In a tone of tender commiseration, Helena replied, 
 shaking her head : 
 
 " My dear child, such artlessness does your heart 
 credit ; but, alas ! the best and most inoffensive people 
 are exposed to the animosity of the wicked. Have not 
 the gentle lambs ravening wolves for enemies ? " 
 
 " But how had my mother ever wronged M. de Maille- 
 fort, mademoiselle?" asked Ernestine, with tears in 
 her eyes. 
 
 216
 
 AN INVOLUNTARY AVERSION. 
 
 " Why, in no way. Just Heaven ! one might as well 
 say that an innocent dove would attack a tiger." 
 
 " Then what was the cause of M. de Mailleforf s ani- 
 mosity?" 
 
 "Alas! my poor child, I cannot tell you that. It 
 would be too revolting too horrible," answered Helena, 
 sighing heavily. 
 
 " Then I have good cause to loathe this man, and yet I 
 blamed myself for yielding to my involuntary aversion." 
 
 "Ah, my dearest child, may you never have a less 
 justifiable aversion," said the devotee, sanctimoniously, 
 lifting her eyes heavenward. 
 
 Then she added : 
 
 " I must leave you, now, my dear Ernestine. Sleep 
 sweetly. To-morrow morning, at nine o'clock, I will 
 come for you to go to church." 
 
 " Good-bye until to-morrow, mademoiselle ; but, alas ! 
 you leave me with sad thoughts, my mother had an 
 enemy." 
 
 " It is best to know the real character of the wicked, 
 my dear Ernestine, for then one can at least guard 
 against their evil doing. And now good-bye until 
 to-morrow morning." 
 
 " Good night, mademoiselle." 
 
 So Mile, de la Rochaigue departed, proud of the per- 
 fidious cunning with which she had aroused a cruel 
 distrust of M. de Maillefort in Mile, de BeaumesniPs 
 heart. 
 
 Ernestine left alone, rang for her governess, who also 
 acted as her personal attendant. 
 
 Madame Laine* entered. 
 
 She was about forty years of age, with a somewhat 
 insipid face, and a pleasant, though rather obsequious 
 manner, in which there was a touch of servility that 
 made it very different from the devotion of a faithful 
 nurse, which is always instinct with the dignity of 
 disinterested affection. 
 
 217
 
 PRIDE. 
 
 " Does mademoiselle wish to retire?" asked Madame 
 Laine*. 
 
 " No, my good Laine", not yet. Bring me my writing- 
 desk, please." 
 
 " Yes, mademoiselle." 
 
 The desk having been brought from Ernestine's 
 chamber, her governess said : 
 
 " There is something I wish to tell mademoiselle." 
 
 "What is it?" 
 
 " Madame has hired two other maids for mademoiselle, 
 and " 
 
 " I have told you that I require no other personal 
 attendants than you and The're'se." 
 
 "I know it, mademoiselle, and I said as much to 
 madame, but she thinks you are not sufficiently well 
 served." 
 
 " You satisfy me perfectly." 
 
 " But madame says these young women are to stay 
 in case you should need them, and this suits all the 
 better as madame dismissed her own maid recently, and 
 these women are to attend her in the meantime." 
 
 " That is all very well," responded Ernestine, indiffer- 
 ently. 
 
 " Mademoiselle desires nothing ? " 
 
 " No, I thank you." 
 
 " Does mademoiselle find herself comfortable here ? " 
 
 " Very comfortable." 
 
 " The apartments are certainly superb, but there is 
 nothing too good for mademoiselle. Every one says 
 so." 
 
 " My good Laine*, you may put out what I shall re- 
 quire for the night," said Ernestine, without paying any 
 attention to the governess's remark. " I can undress 
 without your assistance, but I would like you to wake 
 me a little before eight to-morrow morning." 
 
 "Yes, mademoiselle." 
 
 Madame Laine" turned as if to leave the room, but 
 218
 
 AN INVOLUNTARY AVERSION. 
 
 as Ernestine opened her desk to write, the governess 
 paused, and said : 
 
 " I have a favour to ask of mademoiselle." 
 
 What is it ? " 
 
 " I should be very grateful to mademoiselle if she 
 would have the goodness to spare me a couple of hours 
 to-morrow, or the day after, to go and see a relative of 
 mine, Madame Herbaut, who lives in the Batignolles." 
 
 " Very well, go to-morrow morning, while I am at 
 church." 
 
 " I thank mademoiselle for her kindness." 
 
 " Good-night, my good Laine"," said Ernestine, thus 
 dismissing her governess, who seemed inclined to continue 
 the conversation. 
 
 This interview gives a pretty correct idea of the rela- 
 tions that existed between Mile, de Beaumesnil and 
 Madame Lame*. 
 
 The latter had often endeavoured to establish herself 
 on a more familiar footing with her young mistress, but 
 at the very first effort in this direction Mile, de Beau- 
 mesnil always put an end to the conversation, not 
 haughtily nor curtly, but by giving some order in a 
 kindly way. 
 
 After Madame Lamp's departure, Ernestine remained 
 lost in thought for some time ; then, seating herself at 
 the table, on which her desk had been placed, she opened 
 it and took out a small book bound in Russia leather, 
 the first leaves of which were already filled. 
 
 The history of this book was simple but touching. 
 
 On her departure for Italy, Ernestine had promised 
 her mother to write every day a sort of diary of her 
 journey. This promise the girl had kept until the sorrow- 
 ful days that immediately followed her father's fatal acci- 
 dent, and the even more terrible days that followed the 
 news of the Comtesse de Beaumesnil's death ; and now 
 that she had rallied a little from these crushing blows, 
 Ernestine found a sort of pious consolation in continuing 
 
 219
 
 PRIDE. 
 
 to write to her mother every day, keeping up the both 
 pleasant and cruel illusion by continuing these confiden- 
 tial revelations. 
 
 The first part of this book contained copies of the 
 letters Ernestine had written to her mother while that 
 lady was living. 
 
 The second part, separated from the first by a black 
 cross, contained the letters which the poor child had, 
 alas ! had no need to recopy. 
 
 Mile, de Beaumesnil seated herself at the table, and, 
 after she had wiped away the tears which the sight of 
 this book always evoked, she wrote as follows : 
 
 " I have not written to you, my darling mamma, since 
 my arrival at M. de la Rochaigue's house, because I 
 wished to analyse my first impressions carefully. 
 
 " Besides, you know how peculiar I am, and how, 
 whenever I go to a strange place now, I find myself 
 almost dazed for a day or two by the change. It seems 
 as if I must have time to become accustomed to the new 
 objects by which I am surrounded, to recover my mental 
 faculties. 
 
 " The apartments set aside for my exclusive use are so 
 magnificent and so spacious that I felt lost in them 
 yesterday, but to-day I am becoming more accustomed 
 to them. 
 
 " Madame de la Rochaigue and her husband and sister 
 have welcomed me as if I were their own child. They 
 lavish every attention and kindness upon me, and if one 
 could have any feeling save gratitude, for such a cordial 
 reception, I should feel amazed that persons so much 
 older than I am, should treat me with so much deference. 
 
 " M. de la Rochaigue, my guardian, is kindness itself. 
 His wife, who quite spoils me by her tenderness, is of a 
 very gay and lively disposition. Mile. Helena, her sister- 
 in-law, is the gentlest and most saintly person imagi- 
 nable. 
 
 " You see, my dearest mother, that you need feel no 
 
 220
 
 AN INVOLUNTARY AVERSION. 
 
 anxiety concerning your poor Ernestine's lot. Sur- 
 rounded by such devoted friends, she is as happy as she 
 can be, now. 
 
 " My chief desire is to become better acquainted with 
 M. de la Rochaigue and his family, for then they will 
 doubtless treat me with less ceremony, and cease to pay 
 me compliments which embarrass me greatly, but which 
 they probably feel obliged to pay me in order to make 
 me feel at ease. 
 
 " They are so kind that each person in turn seems to 
 be racking his or her brain for the pleasantest and most 
 complimentary thing they can say to me. By and by, 
 I hope that they will see they do not need to flatter me 
 to gain my affection. One would almost suppose from 
 their manner that they were under the greatest obliga- 
 tions to me for being allowed to receive me into their 
 household. This does not surprise me much, however, 
 my dearest mother, for how often you have told me that 
 refined people always seem grateful for the services they 
 are able to render others. 
 
 " I have had some very painful moments to-day, not 
 by any fault of my guardian or his family, however. 
 
 " This morning, a gentleman (my notary, as I learned 
 afterwards) was introduced to me by my guardian, who 
 said: 
 
 " ' My dear ward, I think it would be well for you to 
 know the precise amount of your fortune, and this 
 gentleman will now tell you.' 
 
 " Whereupon, the notary, opening a book he had 
 brought with him, showed me the last page all covered 
 with figures, and said : 
 
 " ' Mademoiselle, from the exact ' he used a word 
 here that I have forgotten ' your yearly income 
 amounts to the sum of three million one hundred and 
 twenty thousand francs, which gives you nearly eight 
 thousand francs a day, so you are the richest heiress in 
 France.' 
 
 221
 
 PRIDE. 
 
 " This, my poor dear mother, reminded me again of 
 what, alas ! I scarcely ever forget, that I was an 
 orphan, and alone in the world ; and in spite of all my 
 efforts to control my feelings, I wept bitterly." 
 
 Ernestine was obliged to stop writing. Her tears had 
 burst forth afresh, for to this tender-hearted, artless 
 child, this rich inheritance meant the loss of her mother 
 and of her father. 
 
 Becoming calmer after a few moments, she resumed 
 her pen, and continued : 
 
 " It is difficult for me to explain it, but on learning 
 that I had eight thousand francs a day, as the notary 
 said, I felt a great awe, not unmixed with fear. 
 
 " ' So much money just for myself ! why is it ? ' I 
 thought. 
 
 " It seemed to me unjust. 
 
 " What had I done to be so rich ? 
 
 " And then those words which had made me weep, 
 1 You are the richest heiress in France,' almost terrified 
 me. 
 
 " Yes ; I know not how to explain it, but the knowl- 
 edge that I possessed this immense fortune made me 
 feel strangely uneasy. It seemed to me that I must feel 
 as people feel who have a great treasure, and who tremble 
 at the thought of the dangers they will incur if any one 
 tries to rob them of it. 
 
 " And yet, no ; this comparison is not a just one, for 
 I never cared very much for the money you and my 
 father gave me each month to gratify my fancies. 
 
 " In fact, I seem unable to analyse my feelings when I 
 think of my wealth, as they call it. It is strange and 
 inexplicable, but perhaps I shall feel differently by and 
 by. 
 
 " In the meantime, I am surrounded by the kindest 
 and most devoted of relatives. What can I have to fear ? 
 It is pure childishness on my part, undoubtedly. But to 
 whom can I tell everything, if not to you ? M. de la 
 
 222
 
 AN INVOLUNTARY AVERSION. 
 
 Rochaigue and the other members of his household are 
 wonderfully kind to me, but I shall never make confi- 
 dants of them. You know I have always been very 
 reserved to every one but you and my father; and I 
 often reproach myself for not being more familiar with 
 my good Laine", who has been with me several years. 
 But anything like familiarity is impossible to me, though 
 I am far from being proud." 
 
 Then alluding to the aversion she felt for M. de Maille- 
 fort, in consequence of Mile. Helena's calumnies, Ernes- 
 tine added : 
 
 " I was cruelly hurt this evening, but it was such a 
 disgraceful thing that, out of respect to you, my dear 
 mother, I will not write it, nor do I really believe that I 
 should have the courage. 
 
 " Good night, my darling mamma. To-morrow and 
 the day following, I am going to nine o'clock mass with 
 Mile, de la Rochaigue. She is so good and kind that I 
 could not refuse. But my most fervent prayers, my dear 
 mother, are those I offer up in solitude. To-morrow 
 morning and other mornings, in the midst of the careless 
 crowd, I shall pray for you, but it is when I am alone, 
 as now, that my every thought and my very soul lifts 
 itself to thee, and that I pray to thee as one prays to 
 God my beloved and sainted mother ! " 
 
 After having replaced the book in the writing-desk, 
 the key of which she wore always suspended around her 
 neck, the orphan sought her couch, and slept much more 
 calmly and peacefully now she had made these artless 
 confessions to an alas ! now immortal mother. 
 
 223
 
 CHAPTER XXIV. 
 
 AN UNWELCOME VISITOR. 
 
 ON the morning following the day on which M. de 
 Maillefort had been introduced to Mile, de Beaumesnil 
 for the first time, Commander Bernard was lying 
 stretched out in the comfortable armchair which had 
 been a present from Olivier. 
 
 It was a beautiful summer morning, and the old 
 sailor gazed out sadly through the window on the 
 parched flower beds, now full of weeds, for a month 
 before two of the veteran's old wounds had reopened, 
 keeping him a prisoner in his armchair, and preventing 
 him from working in his beloved garden. 
 
 The housekeeper was seated near the commander, 
 busy with some sewing, but for several minutes she 
 must have been indulging in her usual recriminations 
 against " Bu-ii-onaparte," for she was now saying to the 
 veteran, in tones of bitter indignation : 
 
 " Yes, monsieur, raw, raw ; I tell you he ate it raw ! " 
 
 The veteran, when his acute suffering abated a little, 
 could not help laughing at the housekeeper's absurd 
 stories, so he said : 
 
 " What was it that this diabolical Corsican ogre ate 
 raw, Mother Barban9ou ? " 
 
 " His beef, monsieur ! Yes, the night before the 
 battle he ate his meat raw ! And do you know why ? " 
 
 "No," answered the veteran, turning himself with 
 difficulty in his armchair; "I can not imagine, I am 
 sure." 
 
 224
 
 AN UNWELCOME VISITOR. 
 
 " The wretch did it to render himself more ferocious, 
 so he would have the courage to see his soldiers exter- 
 minated by the enemy, above all, the conscripts," added 
 the indignant housekeeper. " His sole object in life was 
 to provide food for cannon, as he said, and so to depopu- 
 late France by conscriptions that there would not be a 
 single Frenchman left. That was his diabolical scheme ! " 
 
 Commander Bernard replied to this tirade by another 
 loud burst of laughter. 
 
 " Let me ask just this one question," he said. " If 
 Bonaparte desired that there shouldn't be another 
 Frenchman left in France, who the devil would he 
 have had to reign over, then ? " 
 
 " Why, negroes, of course," snapped the housekeeper, 
 shrugging her shoulders impatiently, and acting quite as 
 if an absurdly easy question had been put to her. 
 
 It was such a ridiculous answer, and so entirely unex- 
 pected, that a moment of positive stupefaction preceded 
 a fresh outburst of hilarity on the part of the com- 
 mander, who, as soon as he could control his mirth a 
 little, inquired : 
 
 " Negroes, what negroes ? " 
 
 " Why, those American negroes with whom he was 
 always plotting, and who, while he was on his rock, 
 began a tunnel which, starting at Champ-d'Asile, and 
 passing under St. Helena, was intended to transport 
 to the capital of the empire other negroes, friends of 
 the American negroes, so Bu-u-onaparte, in company 
 with his odious Roustan, could return to ravage all 
 France." 
 
 "Really, Mother Barban9on," exclaimed the veteran, 
 admiringly, " I never knew your imagination to soar to 
 such sublime heights before." 
 
 " I don't see that there is anything to laugh at, mon- 
 sieur. Would you like to have conclusive proof that 
 the monster always intended to replace the French by 
 negroes ? " 
 
 225
 
 PRIDE. 
 
 " I should indeed, Mother Barbanc,on," exclaimed the 
 veteran, wiping tears of mirth from his eyes. " Come, 
 let us have the proof." 
 
 " Ah, well, monsieur, hasn't everybody said for years 
 that your Bu-u-onaparte treated the French like so many 
 negroes ? " 
 
 " Bravo, Mother Barbanc,on, bravo ! " 
 
 " Well, isn't that proof enough that he would like to have 
 had all negroes instead of Frenchmen under his thumb ? " 
 
 " Thanks, Mother Barbanc,on ! " exclaimed the poor 
 commander, fairly writhing with merriment. " But this 
 is too much, really too much ! " 
 
 Two loud and imperious peals of the bell made the 
 housekeeper spring from her chair and hurry out of 
 the room, exclaiming: 
 
 " There is some one who rings in a lordly way, I must 
 say." 
 
 And closing the door of the veteran's chamber behind 
 her, Madame Barban9on flew to admit the visitor. 
 
 This proved to be a stout man about fifty years of 
 age, wearing the uniform of a second lieutenant in the 
 National Guard, a uniform that gaped in a ridiculous 
 manner behind, and disclosed to view in front an enor- 
 mous stomach, over which dangled a big gold chain. 
 This personage, who wore an immense bearskin hat that 
 nearly covered his eyes, had a pompous and extremely 
 self-important air. 
 
 On beholding him, Madame Barbangon knit her brows, 
 and, evidently not very deeply impressed by the dignity 
 of this citizen soldier, asked, in a decidedly sharp tone : 
 
 " What, you here again ? " 
 
 " It would be very strange if an owner " the word 
 owner was uttered with the majestic air of a ruling 
 sovereign " if an owner could not come into his own 
 house, when " 
 
 " You are not in your own house, for you have rented 
 it to the commander." 
 
 226
 
 AN UNWELCOME VISITOR. 
 
 " This is the seventeenth of the month, and my porter 
 has sent me a printed notice that my rent has not been 
 paid, so I " 
 
 " We all know that. This is the third time in the last 
 two days that you have been here to dun us. Do you 
 expect us to give you our last cent for the rent ? We'll 
 pay you when we can, and that is all there is about it." 
 
 " When you can ? A house owner is not to be paid in 
 promises." 
 
 " House owner ! You can boast of being a house 
 owner only because for the last twenty years you've 
 been putting pepper in your brandy and chicory in your 
 coffee, as well as dipping your candles in boiling water to- 
 melt off the tallow without anybody's discovering it, and 
 with the proceeds of this cheating you've perhaps bought 
 a few houses. I don't see anything to be so proud of in 
 that, do you ? " 
 
 " I have been a grocer, it is true. It is also true that 
 I made money in my business, and I am proud of the 
 fact, madame." 
 
 " You have no reason to be. Besides, if you are rich, 
 how can you have the heart to torment a worthy man 
 like the commander merely because he is a little behind 
 in his rent for the first time, too, in over three years." 
 
 "I don't care anything about that. Pay me my 
 money, or out you go ! It is very astonishing ; people 
 can't pay their rent, but they must have gardens and 
 every modern convenience, these fastidious tenants of 
 mine ! " 
 
 " Come, come, M. Bouffard, don't go too far or you may 
 be sorry for it ! Of course he must have a garden, this 
 brave man, crippled with wounds, for a garden is his 
 only pleasure in life. If, instead of sticking to your 
 counter, you had gone to the wars like the commander, 
 and shed your blood in the four quarters of the globe, 
 and in Russia, you wouldn't own any more houses than 
 he does ! Go, and see if you do ! " 
 
 227
 
 PRIDE. 
 
 " Once, twice, I ask, will you pay me to-day ? " 
 
 " Three times, a hundred times, and a thousand times, 
 no ! Since the commander's wound reopened, he can 
 sleep only with the aid of opium. That drug is as costly 
 as gold itself, and the one hundred and fifty francs he 
 has received has had to go in medicine and doctor's 
 visits." 
 
 " I don't care anything about your reasons. House own- 
 ers would be in a nice fix if they listened to their tenants' 
 excuses. It was just the same at one of my houses on 
 the Rue de Monceau where I've just been. My tenant 
 there is a music teacher, who can't pay her rent because 
 she's been sick, she says, and hasn't been able to give 
 lessons as usual. The same old story ! When a person 
 is sick, he ought to go to the hospital, and give you 
 a chance to find another tenant." 
 
 " The hospital ! Commander Bernard go to the hos- 
 pital ! " cried the now thoroughly exasperated house- 
 keeper. " No, not even if I have to go out as a ragpicker 
 at night, and nurse him in the daytime, he sha'n't go to 
 the hospital, understand that, but you run a great risk 
 of going there yourself if you don't clear out, for M. 
 Olivier is coming back, and he'll give you more kicks 
 in your miserable stomach than you have hairs in your 
 bearskin cap." 
 
 " I would like to see any other house owner who would 
 allow himself to be abused in this fashion in his own 
 house. But enough of this. I'll be back at four o'clock, 
 and if the hundred and fifty francs are not ready for me, 
 I'll seize your furniture." 
 
 " And I'll seize my fire-shovel and give you the 
 reception you deserve ! " 
 
 And the housekeeper slammed the door in M. Bouf- 
 fard's face, and went back to the commander. His fit 
 of hilarity was over, but he was still in a very good 
 humour, so, on seeing Madame Barbangon return with 
 cheeks blazing with anger, the old sailor said to her : 
 
 228
 
 AN UNWELCOME VISITOR. 
 
 " Well, it seems that you didn't expend all your wrath 
 upon Bonaparte, Mother Barban9on. Who the devil are 
 you in such a rage with now ? " 
 
 " With some one who isn't a bit better than your 
 Emperor, I can tell you that. The two would make 
 a pretty pair. Bah ! " 
 
 " And who is it that is such a good match for the 
 emperor, Mother Barban9on ? " 
 
 It is " 
 
 But the housekeeper suddenly checked herself. 
 
 " Poor, dear man," she thought, " it would almost kill 
 him if I should tell him that the rent isn't paid, that the 
 expenses of his illness have eaten up every penny of his 
 money, as well as sixty francs of my own. I'll wait 
 until M. Olivier comes. He may have some good news 
 for us." 
 
 " What the deuce are you mooning about there instead 
 of answering me, Mother Barbangon ? Is it some new 
 atrocity of the little corporal's that you are going to 
 treat me to?" 
 
 " How glad I am ! That must be M. Olivier," cried 
 the housekeeper, hearing the bell ring again, gently this 
 time. 
 
 And again leaving her employer, Madame Barban^on 
 ran to the door. It was, indeed, the commander's nephew 
 this time. 
 
 " Well, M. Olivier ? " asked the housekeeper, anxiously. 
 
 " We are saved," replied the young man, wiping the 
 sweat from his forehead. " My worthy friend, the mason, 
 had some difficulty in getting the money he owed me, 
 for I had not told him I should want it so soon, but here 
 are the two hundred francs at last," said Olivier, handing 
 a little bag of coin to the housekeeper. 
 
 " What a relief it is, M. Olivier." 
 
 " Why, has the landlord been here again ? " 
 
 "He just left, the scoundrel! I told him pretty 
 plainly what I thought of him." 
 
 229
 
 PRIDE. 
 
 " But, my dear Madame Barban9on, when one owes a 
 man money, one must pay it. But my poor uncle sus- 
 pects nothing, does he ? " 
 
 " No, not a thing, I'm glad to say." 
 
 " So much the better." 
 
 " Such a capital idea has just struck me ! " exclaimed 
 the vindictive housekeeper, as she counted the money 
 the young man had just handed her. " Such a capital 
 idea ! " 
 
 " What is it, Mother Barbanc,on ? " 
 
 "That scoundrel will be back here at four o'clock, 
 and I'm going to make up a hot fire in my cook-stove 
 and put thirty of these five-franc pieces in it, and when 
 that monster of a M. Bouffard comes, I'll tell him to 
 wait a minute, and then I'll go and take the money out 
 with my tongs and pile the coins up on the table, and 
 then I'll say to him, ' There's your money ; take it.' 
 That will be fine, M. Olivier, won't it. The law doesn't 
 forbid that, does it ? " 
 
 " So you want to fire red-hot bullets at all the rich 
 grocers, do you ? " laughed Olivier. " Do better than 
 that. Save your charcoal, and give the hundred and fifty 
 francs to M. Bouffard cold." 
 
 " You are entirely too good-natured, M. Olivier. Let 
 me at least spoil his pretty face with my nails, the 
 brigand." 
 
 " Nonsense ! He's much more stupid than wicked." 
 
 He's both, M. Olivier, he's both, I tell you ! " 
 
 " But how is my uncle this morning ? I went out so 
 early that he was still asleep, and I didn't like to wake 
 him." 
 
 " He is feeling better, for he and I just had a fine dis- 
 pute about his monster. And then your return, why, it 
 is worth more to him than all the medicines in the 
 world, and when I think that but for you that frightful 
 Bouffard might have turned us out in three or four days ! 
 And Heaven knows that our belongings wouldn't have 
 
 230
 
 AN UNWELCOME VISITOR. 
 
 brought much, for our six tablespoons and the com- 
 mander's watch went when he was ill three years ago." 
 
 " My good Mother BarbanQon, don't talk of that, or 
 you will drive me mad, for when my furlough is over 
 I shall not be here, and what happened to-day may 
 happen again at any time. But I won't even think of 
 it. It is too terrible ! " 
 
 The commander's bell rang, and on hearing the sound 
 the housekeeper said to the young man, whose face wore 
 an almost heart-broken expression : 
 
 " That is the commander ringing. For heaven's sake 
 don't look so sad, M. Olivier ; he will be sure to suspect 
 something." 
 
 " You needn't be afraid of that. But, by the way, 
 Gerald is sure to call this morning. You must let 
 him in." 
 
 "All right, M. Olivier. Go to the commander at 
 once, and I will soon have your breakfast ready. Dear 
 me, M. Olivier," she continued, with a sigh, "can you 
 be content with " 
 
 " My dear, good woman," cried the young soldier, 
 without allowing her to finish, " don't I always have 
 enough ? Aren't you always depriving yourself of some- 
 thing to give it to me ? " 
 
 " Hush ! Monsieur is ringing again. Hasten to him 
 at once ! " 
 
 And Olivier obeyed. 
 
 231
 
 CHAPTER XXY. 
 
 MATRIMONIAL INTENTIONS DISCLOSED. 
 
 AT the sight of Olivier, the commander's features 
 assumed a joyful expression, and, not being able to 
 rise from his armchair, he held out both hands to his 
 nephew, saying : 
 
 " Good morning, my boy." 
 
 " Good morning, uncle." 
 
 " I feel strongly inclined to scold you." 
 
 Me, uncle ? "' 
 
 " Certainly. Though you only returned yesterday you 
 were off this morning almost before sunrise. I woke 
 quite early, happy in the thought that I was not alone, 
 as I have been for two months past. I glance over at 
 your bed, but no Olivier is to be seen. You had already 
 flown." 
 
 "But, uncle " 
 
 " But, my boy, you have cheated me out of nearly two 
 months of your leave already. A hitch in your master 
 mason's business matters, you told me. So be it ; but 
 now, thanks to the earnings of these two months, you 
 must be almost a millionaire, so I intend to enjoy your 
 society from this on. You have earned plenty of money. 
 As it is for me that you are always working, I cannot 
 prevent you from making me presents, and Heaven only 
 knows what you are plotting to do with your millions 
 this very minute, M. Croesus ; but I tell you one thing, 
 if you leave me as much of the time alone as you did 
 before you went away, I will not accept another present 
 from you. I swear I will not ! " 
 
 232
 
 MATRIMONIAL INTENTIONS DISCLOSED. 
 
 " But, uncle, listen to me " 
 
 " You have only two more months to spend with me, 
 and I am determined to make the most of them. What 
 is the use of working as you do ? Do you suppose that, 
 with a manager like Mother Barbangon, my purse is not 
 always full ? Only two or three days ago I said to her : 
 ' Well, Madame Steward, how are we off for funds ? ' * You 
 needn't worry about that, monsieur,' she replied ; ' when 
 one has more than one spends, there is a plenty.' I tell 
 you that a cashier who answers like that is a comfort." 
 
 " Oh, well, uncle," said Olivier, anxious to put an end 
 to this embarrassing conversation, " I promise that I will 
 leave you as little as possible henceforth. Now, one thing 
 more, do you feel able to see Gerald this morning ? " 
 
 " Why, of course. What a kind and loyal heart that 
 young duke has ! When I think that during your ab- 
 sence he came here again and again to see me, and 
 smoke his cigar with me ! I was suffering the torments 
 of the damned, but somehow he managed to make me 
 feel ever so much more comfortable. ' Olivier is away,' 
 he said to me, ' and it is my business to look after 
 you.' " 
 
 " My good Gerald ! " murmured Olivier, deeply moved. 
 
 " Yes, he is good. A young man of his position, who 
 leaves his pleasures, his sweethearts, and friends of his 
 own age, to come and spend two or three hours with an 
 old cripple like me, proves conclusively that he has a 
 good heart. But I'm not a conceited fool, I know very 
 well that it was on your account that Gerald came to see 
 me, my dear nephew, and because he knew it would give 
 you pleasure." 
 
 " No, no, uncle. It was for your sake, and for yours 
 alone, believe me ! " 
 
 " Hum ! " 
 
 " He will tell you so himself, presently, for he wrote 
 yesterday to ask if he would find us at home this 
 morning." 
 
 233
 
 PRIDE. 
 
 " Alas ! he is only too certain to find me ; I cannot 
 budge from my armchair. You see the melancholy proof 
 of that," added the old sailor, pointing to his dry and 
 weedy flower borders. " My poor garden is nearly burnt 
 up. Mamma Barban^on has been too busy to attend to 
 it ; besides, my illness seems to have put her all out of 
 sorts. I suggested asking the porter to water the flowers 
 every day or two ; but you should have heard how she 
 answered me. ' Bring strangers into the house to steal 
 and destroy everything ! ' You know what a temper the 
 good woman has, and I dared not insist, so you can see 
 what a terrible condition my poor flowers are in." 
 
 " Never mind, uncle ; I am back now, and I will act 
 as your head gardener," said Olivier, gaily. " I have 
 thought of it before, and if I had not been obliged to 
 go out early this morning on business, you would have 
 found your garden all weeded, and fresh as a rose spark- 
 ling with dew when you woke this morning. But to- 
 morrow morning, well, you shall see ! " 
 
 The commander was about to thank Olivier when 
 Madame Barbangon opened the door and asked if M. 
 Gerald could come in. 
 
 " I should say he could come in ! " exclaimed the old 
 naval officer, gaily, as Olivier advanced to meet his 
 friend. 
 
 " Thank heaven ! his master mason has returned him 
 to us at last," exclaimed the veteran, pointing to Olivier. 
 
 " Hopeless chaos seemed to reign in the worthy man's 
 estimates," replied Olivier, " and when they were at last 
 adjusted, the manager of the property, struck by nay 
 fine handwriting and symmetrical figures, asked me to 
 straighten out some accounts of his, and I consented. 
 But now I think of it, do you know, Gerald, who owns 
 the magnificent chateau in which I spent the last two 
 months ? " 
 
 " I haven't the slightest idea." 
 
 " Well, the Marquise of Carabas." 
 234
 
 MATRIMONIAL INTENTIONS DISCLOSED. 
 
 " What Marquise of Carabas ? " 
 
 " The enormously wealthy heiress you were talking to 
 us about before I went away." 
 
 " Mile, de Beaumesnil ? " exclaimed Gerald, in pro- 
 found astonishment. 
 
 " The same. This magnificent estate belongs to her 
 and yields her a yearly income of twenty thousand livres ; 
 and it seems that she has dozens of such properties." 
 
 " What the devil can one do with so much money ? " 
 exclaimed the veteran. 
 
 " It is certainly a strange coincidence," murmured 
 Gerald, thoughtfully. 
 
 And why ? " 
 
 " Because there is a possibility of my marrying Mile, 
 de Beaumesnil." 
 
 " Indeed, M. Gerald," said the veteran, artlessly, " so 
 a desire to marry has seized you since I saw you last ? " 
 
 " So you are in love with Mile, de Beaumesnil ? " 
 asked Olivier, no less na'ively. 
 
 Gerald, surprised at these questions, replied, after a 
 moment of reflection : 
 
 " It is perfectly natural that you should speak in this 
 way, commander, and you, too, Olivier ; and among all 
 the persons I know you are the only ones. Yes, for if I 
 had said to a thousand other people, ' It is proposed that 
 I should marry the richest heiress in France,' each and 
 every one of them would have replied without a thought 
 about anything else : ' Yes, marry her by all means. It 
 is a splendid match ; marry her, by all means ! ' ' 
 
 Then, after another pause, Gerald added : 
 
 " Of course it is only right, but how rare, oh, how 
 rare ! " 
 
 " Upon my word, I had no idea that I was saying any- 
 thing remarkable, M. Gerald. Olivier thinks exactly as 
 I do, don't you, my boy ? " 
 
 " Yes, uncle. But what is the matter with you, Ger- 
 ald? Why do you seem so serious all of a sudden ?" 
 
 235
 
 PRIDE. 
 
 " I will tell you," said the young duke, whose features 
 did, indeed, wear an unusually thoughtful expression. 
 " I came here this morning to inform you of my matri- 
 monial intentions, you, commander, and you, Olivier, 
 for I regard you both as sincere and devoted friends." 
 
 " You certainly have no truer ones, M. Gerald," said 
 the veteran, earnestly. 
 
 " I am certain of that, commander, and this knowledge 
 made me doubly anxious to confide my projects to you." 
 
 " That is very natural," replied Olivier, " for you 
 know so well that whatever interests you interests us." 
 
 " The real state of the case is this," said Gerald, re- 
 plying to his friend's words by a friendly gesture. " Yes- 
 terday, my mother, dazzled by Mile, de BeaumesniPs 
 wealth, proposed to me that I should marry that young 
 lady. My mother considered my success certain, if I 
 would consent to follow her counsels. But remembering 
 the pleasures of my bachelor life and of independence, I 
 at first refused." 
 
 " But if you have no liking for married life, the mil- 
 lions upon millions should not induce you to change this 
 determination," remarked the old naval officer, kindly. 
 
 " But wait, commander," said Gerald, with some little 
 embarrassment. " My refusal irritated my mother. She 
 told me I was blind, and that I had no sense ; but finally 
 her anger gave place to such profound chagrin that, 
 seeing her inconsolable at my refusal, I " 
 
 " You consented to the marriage ? " asked Olivier. 
 
 " Yes," replied Gerald. 
 
 Then noticing a slight movement of astonishment on 
 the part of the old sailor, Gerald added : 
 
 " Commander, my decision seems to surprise you." 
 
 "Yes, M. Gerald." 
 
 " But why ? Tell me frankly." 
 
 " Well, M. Gerald, if you consent to marry contrary 
 to your inclination, and that merely to please your 
 mother, I fear you are making a great mistake," an- 
 
 236
 
 MATRIMONIAL INTENTIONS DISCLOSED. 
 
 swered the veteran, in firm, but affectionate tones, " for 
 sooner or later your wife will suffer for the compulsion 
 you exert upon yourself to-day, and one ought not to 
 marry to make a woman unhappy. Don't you agree with 
 me, Olivier ? " 
 
 " Perfectly." 
 
 " But how could I bear to see my mother weep, my 
 mother who seems to have set her heart upon this 
 marriage ? " 
 
 "But think of seeing your wife weep, M. Gerald. 
 Your mother has your affection to console her, while 
 your wife, poor orphan that she is, who will console her ? 
 No one, or perhaps she will do as so many other women 
 do, console herself with lovers who are inferior to you 
 in every way. They will torment her, they will dis- 
 grace her, perhaps, another chance of misery for the 
 poor creature ! " 
 
 The young duke's head drooped, and he answered not 
 a word. 
 
 " You asked us to be frank with you, M. Gerald," con- 
 tinued the commander, "and we are, because we love 
 you sincerely." 
 
 " I did not doubt that you would be perfectly frank 
 with me, so I ought to be equally so, and say in my 
 defence that in consenting to this marriage I was in- 
 fluenced by another and not altogether ungenerous senti- 
 ment. You remember that I spoke of Macreuse, the 
 other day, Olivier ? " 
 
 v That miserable wretch who put little birds' eyes out 
 with pins ! " cried the veteran, upon whom this incident 
 had evidently made a deep impression, " that hypocrite 
 who is now a hanger-on of the clergy ? " 
 
 "The same, commander. Well, he is one of the 
 aspirants for Mile, de Beaumesnil's hand." 
 
 " Macreuse ! " exclaimed Olivier. " Poor girl, but he 
 has no chance of success, has he ? " 
 
 " My mother says not, but I fear that he has ; for the 
 
 237
 
 PRIDE. 
 
 Church supports Macreuse's claims, and the Church is 
 very powerful." 
 
 " Such a scoundrel as that succeed ! " cried the old 
 officer. " It would be shameful ! " 
 
 " And it was because I was so indignant at the idea 
 that, already touched by my mother's disappointment, I 
 consented to the marriage partly in order to circumvent 
 that wretch, Macreuse." 
 
 "But afterwards, M. Gerald, you reflected, did you 
 not, that an honourable man like yourself does not 
 marry merely to please his mother and circumvent a 
 rival, even if that rival is a Macreuse ? " 
 
 " What, commander ! " exclaimed Gerald, evidently 
 much surprised. " Do you think it would be better to 
 allow this wretch to marry Mile, de Beaumesnil, when 
 he wants her only for her money ? " 
 
 " Nothing of the kind," answered the veteran, warmly. 
 " One should always prevent a crime when one can, and 
 if I were in your place, M. Gerald " 
 
 " What would you do, commander ? " 
 
 " I would go first to M. Macreuse, and say to him : 
 ' You are a scoundrel, and as scoundrels should not be 
 allowed to marry women to make them miserable all 
 their lives, I forbid you to marry Mile, de Beaumesnil, 
 and I will prevent you from marrying her ; I do not 
 know her, I have no intention of marrying her myself, 
 but I take an interest in her because she is in some 
 danger of becoming your wife. As that, in my opinion, 
 would be infinitely worse for her than if she were going 
 to be bitten by a mad dog, I intend to warn her that 
 you are worse than a mad dog.' ' : 
 
 " That would be doing exactly right, uncle, exactly ! " 
 cried Olivier. 
 
 But Gerald motioned him not to interrupt the veteran, 
 who continued : 
 
 " I should then go straight to Mile, de Beaumesnil, 
 and say to her : ' My dear young lady, there is a certain 
 
 238
 
 MATRIMONIAL INTENTIONS DISCLOSED. 
 
 M. Macreuse who wants to marry you for your money. 
 He is a vile cur, and I will prove it to his face when- 
 ever and wherever you like. Take my advice ; it is 
 entirely disinterested, for I haven't the slightest idea of 
 marrying you myself, but honest men should always put 
 unsuspecting persons on their guard against scoundrels.' 
 I tell you, M. Gerald, my way may be unconventional, 
 but there might be very much worse ones." 
 
 " The course my uncle suggests, though rather rough, 
 certainly has the merit of being eminently straight- 
 forward, you must admit, my dear Gerald," said Olivier, 
 smilingly ; " but you, who are so much better versed in 
 the ways of the world than either of us are, probably 
 know whether you could not achieve the same result by 
 less violent means." 
 
 But Gerald, more and more impressed by the veteran's 
 frankness and good sense, had listened to him very 
 respectfully. 
 
 " Thanks, commander," he exclaimed, offering him 
 his hand, "you and Olivier have prevented me from 
 doing a dishonourable deed, for the danger was all the 
 greater from the fact that I was investing it with a 
 semblance of virtue. To make my mother the happiest 
 of women, and prevent Mile, de Beaumesnil from becom- 
 ing the victim of a man like Macreuse, seemed a very 
 fine thing to me at first. I was deceiving myself most 
 abominably, for I not only gave no thought whatever to 
 the future of this young girl whom I would probably 
 make miserable for life, but I was yielding, though 
 unconsciously, to the fascination of her colossal 
 wealth." 
 
 " You are wrong about that, Gerald, I am sure." 
 
 " I am not, upon my word, Olivier. So, to save myself 
 from further temptation, I shall return to my first resolu- 
 tion, viz., not to marry at all. I regret only one thing 
 in this change of plans," added Gerald, with much feel- 
 ing, " and that is the deep disappointment I shall cause 
 
 230
 
 PRIDE. 
 
 my mother, though she is sure to approve my course 
 eventually." 
 
 " But listen, Gerald," interrupted Olivier ; " you should 
 not do wrong merely to please your mother, as uncle says. 
 Yet a mother is so kind, and it grieves one so much to 
 see her unhappy, why should you not try to satisfy her 
 without the sacrifice of your convictions as an honest 
 and honourable man ? " 
 
 " Good, my boy ! " exclaimed the veteran. " But how 
 is that to be done ? " 
 
 " Explain, Olivier." 
 
 " You have no wish to marry, you say ? " 
 
 " Not the slightest." 
 
 " And you have never seen Mile, de Beaumesnil ? " 
 
 Never." 
 
 " Then you cannot love her, of course, that is evident. 
 But who knows but you might fall in love with her if 
 you did see her ? A bachelor life is your idea of per- 
 fect happiness now, I admit. But is it not quite possible 
 that Mile, de Beaumesnil might inspire you with a taste 
 for married life instead ? " 
 
 "You are right, Olivier," exclaimed the veteran. 
 "You ought to see the young lady before you refuse, 
 M. Gerald, and perhaps, as Olivier says, the desire to 
 marry may seize you." 
 
 " Impossible, commander ! " cried Gerald, gaily. " One 
 is born a husband as one is born a poet or a cripple, and 
 then there is another objection, the most important of 
 all, that occurs to me now. It is that the young lady 
 in question is the richest heiress in France." 
 
 " And what of that ? " urged Olivier. " What differ- 
 ence does that make ? " 
 
 " It makes a great deal of difference," replied Gerald, 
 " for even if I was obliged to admit that Mile, de Beau- 
 mesnil pleased me infinitely, that I was dead in love 
 with her, in fact, and that she shared my love, the fact 
 remains that she is the possessor of a princely fortune, 
 
 240
 
 MATRIMONIAL INTENTIONS DISCLOSED. 
 
 while I have nothing ; for my paltry twelve thousand 
 a year would be but a drop in the ocean of Mile, de 
 Beaumesnil's millions. It would be too humiliating to 
 a man's pride, would it not, commander, to marry a 
 woman to whom you can give nothing, but who gives 
 you everything ? Besides, however sincere your love 
 may be, don't you have the appearance of marrying 
 for mercenary motives ? Don't you know that every- 
 body would say : ' Mile, de Beaumesnil wanted to be 
 a duchess. Gerald de Senneterre hadn't a penny, so 
 he sold her his name and title, and threw himself in.' " 
 
 On hearing these words, the uncle glanced at his 
 nephew with a decidedly embarrassed air. 
 
 241
 
 CHAPTER XXVI. 
 
 THE COMMANDER'S ADVICE. 
 
 GERALD did not fail to notice this fact, and it was with 
 a smile that he exclaimed : 
 
 " Yes, I was sure of it, commander. There is some- 
 thing so humiliating to an honest man's pride in such a 
 glaring inequality of fortune that you are as unpleas- 
 antly impressed by it as I am. Your silence proves that 
 conclusively." 
 
 " The fact is," replied the veteran, after a moment's 
 silence, " the fact is, I really can't explain why such 
 a state of things would appear perfectly natural and 
 right to me if it was the man who possessed the fortune, 
 and the lady had nothing." 
 
 Then the old officer added, with a good-natured smile : 
 
 "You think me a great simpleton, I expect, M. 
 Gerald." 
 
 " Quite the contrary. Your thought owes its origin 
 to the most profound delicacy of feeling, commander," 
 answered Gerald. " It is the most natural thing in the 
 world that a penniless, but charming young girl, accom- 
 plished and endowed with noble attributes of mind and 
 heart, should marry an immensely rich man, if their 
 love be mutual, but for a man who has nothing, to 
 marry a woman who has everything " 
 
 " Ah, uncle, and you, too, Gerald," exclaimed Olivier, 
 interrupting his friend, "you are both entirely wrong 
 about this matter." 
 
 " And why, if you please ? " 
 242
 
 THE COMMANDER'S ADVICE. 
 
 " You admit, and so do I, that a penniless young girl 
 is quite justified in marrying an immensely rich man, 
 but this is only on condition that she loves the man 
 sincerely." 
 
 " Of course ! " said Gerald. " If she is actuated by 
 mercenary motives, it becomes nothing more nor less 
 than a business transaction." 
 
 " And disgraceful accordingly," added the old sailor. 
 
 " Very well, then," continued Olivier, " why should a 
 poor man, because, Gerald, you are poor in comparison 
 with Mile, de Beaumesnil, why, then, I ask, should you 
 be censured for marrying that young lady if you love 
 her sincerely in spite of her millions, in short, if you 
 love her as sincerely as if she were without name and 
 without fortune ? " 
 
 " That is true, M. Gerald," chimed in the commander ; 
 " if one loves as an honest man should love, if one is 
 certain that he loves not the money, but the woman, 
 one's conscience is clear. What right can any one have 
 to reproach him ? In short, I advise you to see Mile, 
 de Beaumesnil first, and decide afterwards." 
 
 " Yes, that will, I believe, be best," Gerald replied. 
 " That will decide everything. Ah, I was wise to come 
 and talk over my plans with you, commander, and with 
 you, Olivier." 
 
 " Nonsense, M. Gerald, as if, in the refined circles in 
 which you move, there were not plenty of persons who 
 would have said the same things Olivier and I have just 
 said to you." 
 
 " Ah, don't you believe it," responded Gerald, shrug- 
 ging his shoulders. 
 
 Then, more gravely, he added : 
 
 " It is the same in the middle classes, if not worse. 
 Everybody cares only for money." 
 
 "But why the devil is it that Olivier and I are so 
 superior to all the rest of the world, M. Gerald ? " asked 
 the commander, laughing. 
 
 243
 
 PRIDE. 
 
 " Why ? " repeated Gerald, with much feeling. " It is 
 because you, commander, have led for forty years the 
 hard, rough, dangerous, unselfish life of a sailor ; it is 
 because while you were leading this life you acquired 
 the Christian virtues of resignation and contentment 
 with little ; it is because, ignorant of the cowardly con- 
 cessions of society in these matters, you consider a man 
 who marries for money as dishonourable as a man who 
 cheats at cards, or shirks his duty on the battle-field. 
 Am I not right, commander ? " 
 
 " But you see it all seems so very plain to me, M. 
 Gerald, that " 
 
 " Oh, yes, very plain to you and to Olivier, who has 
 led, like me, though for a much longer time, the life 
 of a soldier, a life that teaches one unselfishness and 
 brotherly feeling. Is this not true ? " 
 
 " My brave, kind-hearted Gerald ! " cried the young 
 soldier, as deeply moved as his friend. " But you must 
 admit that, though the life of a soldier may have devel- 
 oped your natural generosity, it certainly did not endow 
 you with that virtue. You, alone, perhaps, of all the 
 young men in your rank of life, were capable of realising 
 the sort of cowardice one manifested in sending some 
 poor devil to the wars to be killed in your place, you, 
 alone, too, seem to feel some scruples with regard to 
 a marriage that all the others would gladly contract at 
 any cost." 
 
 " You are not going to begin to pay me compliments at 
 this late day, I hope," laughed Gerald. " Very well, 
 then, it is decided that I am to see Mile, de Beaumesnil, 
 and leave the rest to fate. My course is marked out for 
 me. I will not deviate from it, I promise you." 
 
 " Bravo, my dear Gerald," replied Olivier, gaily. " I 
 see you now in my mind's eye in love, married, a 
 happy Benedict, in short. Ah, well, there's no happi- 
 ness like it, I'm sure. And alas ! I, yesterday, knowing 
 nothing of your plans, asked Madame Herbaut's permis- 
 
 244
 
 THE COMMANDER'S ADVICE. 
 
 sion to introduce to her a former comrade, a very worthy 
 young man, whom she instantly accepted on the strength 
 of my all-potent recommendation." 
 
 " You don't say so," exclaimed Gerald, laughing. 
 " Oh, well, you needn't consider me as good as dead and 
 buried. I shall promptly avail myself of her kind per- 
 mission to call, I assure you." 
 
 "You will?" 
 
 " Most assuredly I shall." 
 
 " But your matrimonial projects ? " 
 
 " Why, they make me all the more determined on this 
 point." 
 
 " Explain, I beg of you." 
 
 " Why, the explanation is very simple, it seems to 
 me. The more reason I have to love a bachelor's life, 
 the better I shall have to love Mile, de Beaumesnil in 
 order to renounce my pleasures, and consequently the 
 more certain I shall be of the sentiment she inspires. 
 So, once for all, let it be understood that you are ta 
 take me with you to Madame Herbaut's, and to make me 
 still stronger to resist temptation, of course, I'll be- 
 come the lover of one of the rivals, or even of one of the 
 satellites of that famous duchess who is such a bugbear 
 to me, and with whom I strongly suspect you of being 
 in love." 
 
 " Nonsense, Gerald ! " 
 
 " Come, be frank with me. You surely can't suspect 
 me of desire to cut you out. As if there were not 
 plenty of duchesses in the world ! Do you remember the 
 sutler's pretty wife ? You had only to say the word, 
 and I, forthwith, left the coast clear for you." 
 
 " What, another ! " cried the commander. " What a 
 fascinating rascal my nephew must be ! " 
 
 " Ah, commander, if you knew the number of hearts 
 the scamp won in Algiers alone ! Madame Herbaut's 
 fair guests had better be on their guard if they don't 
 want to fall victims to Olivier's fascinations ! " 
 
 245
 
 PRIDE. 
 
 " I haven't any designs on the charming guests, you 
 big simpleton," retorted Olivier, gaily. " But seriously, 
 do you really wish me to take you to Madame Herbaut's?" 
 
 " Certainly I do," answered Gerald. Then turning to 
 the veteran, he continued : 
 
 " You really must not consider me a harebrained 
 fellow on account of this determination on my part, 
 commander. I have accepted your friendly advice in 
 regard to marriage, you say, and yet I end the conversa- 
 tion by begging Olivier to take me to Madame Herbaut's. 
 Ah, well, strange as this may appear to you, commander, 
 I say, no longer jestingly, but in all seriousness this 
 time, that the less change I make in my habits, the more 
 sincere my love for Mile, de Beaumesnil will have to be 
 to induce me to abandon them." 
 
 " Upon my word, M. Gerald, I must confess that your 
 reasons seemed decidedly odd to me at first," replied the 
 veteran, " but, on reflection, I find them quite sensible. 
 There would, perhaps, be a sort of hypocritical pre- 
 meditation in breaking off in advance with a life you 
 have led so long." 
 
 " Come then, Olivier, and introduce me to Madame 
 Herbaut's charming tribe," exclaimed Gerald, gaily. 
 " Good-bye, commander, I shall return soon and often. 
 What else can you expect? You can't hope to act as 
 my father confessor without more or less trouble, you 
 know." 
 
 " You'll find me a pretty exacting mentor as regards 
 absolution and matters of conscience, I warn you," 
 retorted the old sailor, gaily. "You must drop in 
 again soon, for you are to keep me posted about the 
 progress of your matrimonial schemes, you recollect." 
 
 " Of course. It is my bounden duty to tell you all 
 now, commander, and I shall not fail to do it. But 
 now I think of it, I must report with regard to a com- 
 mission you entrusted to me, M. Bernard. Will you 
 allow me a word with your uncle in private, Olivier ? " 
 
 246
 
 THE COMMANDER'S ADVICE. 
 
 " Most assuredly," answered the young soldier, promptly 
 leaving the room. 
 
 " I have some good news for you, commander," said 
 Gerald, in a low tone. "Thanks partly to my own 
 efforts, and especially to the Marquis de Maillefort's 
 recommendation, Olivier's appointment as a second lieu- 
 tenant is almost certain." 
 
 " Is it possible, M. Gerald ! " 
 
 " There is very little doubt of it, I think, for it is very 
 generally known that the Marquis de Maillefort is being 
 strongly urged to become a deputy, and this fact has 
 increased his influence very much." 
 
 " Ah, M. Gerald, how can I express my gratitude " 
 
 " I must hasten to rejoin Olivier, my dear com- 
 mander," said Gerald, to escape the veteran's thanks. 
 "His suspicions are sure to be aroused by a longer 
 conversation." 
 
 " So you have a secret with my uncle," cried Olivier, 
 as soon as his friend rejoined him. 
 
 " Oh, yes, you know I'm a man of mysteries ; and, by 
 the way, before we adjourn to Madame Herbaut's, I have 
 another and very mysterious favour to ask of you." 
 
 " Let me hear it." 
 
 " You know all about this neighbourhood. Can't you 
 recommend some quiet lodgings in a retired street 
 hereabouts ? " 
 
 " What ! You are thinking of deserting the Faubourg 
 St. Germain for the Batignolles ? How delightful ! " 
 
 " Nonsense ! Listen to me. Of course, living in my 
 mother's house I cannot receive my friends indiscrimi- 
 nately, you understand." 
 
 " Very well." 
 
 " So I have had some rooms elsewhere, but the house 
 has changed hands, and the new owner is such a strictly 
 moral man that he has warned me that I have got to 
 leave when my month is up, that is, day after to- 
 morrow." 
 
 247
 
 PRIDE. 
 
 " All the better. It is a very fortunate thing, I think. 
 You're about to marry, so bid farewell to your amours." 
 
 " Olivier, you have heard my ideas on the subject. 
 Your uncle approves them. I am resolved to change 
 none of my bachelor habits in advance, and if I should 
 abandon the idea of marriage altogether, think of my 
 desolate situation, homeless and loveless ! No, no, I am 
 much too cautious and far-sighted not to to preserve 
 a pear to quench my thirst." 
 
 "You're a man of infinite precautions, certainly. 
 Very well, as I go and come I'll look at the notices of 
 rooms to rent in the windows." 
 
 " Two little rooms, with a private hall, is all I need. 
 I'll look myself when we leave Madame Herbaut's, for 
 time presses. Day after to-morrow is the fatal day. 
 Say, Olivier, wouldn't it be strange if I should discover 
 what I need right here ? Do you remember the lines : 
 
 " ' What if in this same quiet spot 
 
 I both sweet love and friendship true should find ? ' 
 
 " The lines seem to me a fit motto for a shepherd's 
 pipe ; but what of that ? Truth needs no ornamenta- 
 tion. But now on, on to the house of Madame Herbaut ! " 
 
 " You still insist ? Consider well." 
 
 " Olivier, you are really intolerable. I'll go alone if 
 you won't accompany me." 
 
 " Come, then, the die is cast. It is understood that 
 you are simply Gerald Senneterre, a former comrade of 
 mine." 
 
 " Senneterre ? No ; that would be too imprudent. 
 You had better call me Gerald Auvernay, for I am 
 adorned with the marquisate of Auvernay, my dear 
 Olivier, though you may not be aware of the fact." 
 
 " You are M. Gerald Auvernay, then ; that is decided. 
 But the devil ! " 
 
 What's the matter now ? " 
 248
 
 THE COMMANDER'S ADVICE. 
 
 " But what else are you going to be ? " 
 
 " What else am I going to be ? " 
 
 " Yes ; what is to be your occupation ? " 
 
 " Why, a bachelor of the new school." 
 
 " Pshaw ! I can't introduce you to Madame Herbaut 
 as a young man who is living on the income of the 
 money he saved while in the army. Besides, Madame 
 Herbaut receives no idlers. You would excite her 
 suspicions at once, for the worthy woman strongly dis- 
 trusts young men who have nothing to do but court 
 pretty girls, for you'll find that her girls are pretty." 
 
 " All this is certainly very amusing. Well, what do 
 you want me to be ? " 
 
 " I haven't the slightest idea." 
 
 " Let me see," said Gerald, laughing. " How would 
 you like me to be an apothecary ? " 
 
 " That would do very well, I should think." 
 
 " Oh, no, I was only joking ; that wouldn't answer at 
 all." 
 
 " But there are some very nice and gentlemanly 
 apothecaries, I assure you, Gerald." 
 
 " But really I shouldn't dare to look any one of those 
 pretty girls in the face." 
 
 " Let's try to think of something else, then. What 
 do you say to being the clerk of a notary ? How does 
 that suit you ? " 
 
 " Admirably. My mother has an interminable law- 
 suit on hand, and I drop in to see her notary and lawyer 
 occasionally, so I can study the part from nature." 
 
 " Yery well, follow me, then, and I will introduce you 
 as Gerald Auvernay, clerk to a notary." 
 
 " Chief clerk to a notary," corrected Gerald, with 
 great emphasis. 
 
 " Come on, ambitious youth ! " 
 
 Gerald, thanks to Olivier's recommendation, was re- 
 ceived by Madame Herbaut with great cordiality. 
 
 On the afternoon of that same day grim M. Bouffard 
 249
 
 PRIDE. 
 
 called for the rent Commander Bernard owed him. 
 Madame Barban^on paid him, overcoming with great 
 difficulty her strong desire to disfigure the ferocious 
 landlord's face with her nails. 
 
 Unfortunately, the money thus obtained, instead of 
 appeasing M. Bouffard's greed, seemed to imbue him 
 with increased energy to collect his dues, and persuaded 
 that, but for his persistent dunning and abuse, Madame 
 Barban9on would not have paid him, he hastened off 
 to the Rue Monceau where Herminie lived, resolved to 
 treat the poor girl with increased severity, and thus 
 secure the payment of the rent she owed him. 
 
 250
 
 CHAPTER XXVII. 
 
 THE ABODE OF THE DUCHESS. 
 
 HERMINIE lived on the Rue de Monceau in one of the 
 numerous dwellings of which M. Bouffard was the owner. 
 She occupied a room on the ground floor, reached by a 
 small hallway opening under the archway of the porte- 
 coche're. The two windows looked out upon a pretty 
 garden, enclosed on one side by an evergreen hedge, 
 and on the other by a tall lattice that separated it from 
 the adjoining street. 
 
 This garden really pertained to a much larger apart- 
 ment on the ground floor, an apartment which, together 
 with another suite of rooms on the third floor, was un- 
 occupied, an unpleasant state of things, which consid- 
 erably increased M. Bouffard's ill-humour towards his 
 delinquent tenants. 
 
 Nothing could have been simpler, yet in better taste, 
 than this abode of the duchess. 
 
 A cheap but exceedingly fresh and pretty chintz cov- 
 ered the walls and rather low ceiling of the room. In 
 the daytime full draperies of the same material concealed 
 a large alcove in which the bed stood, as well as two 
 glass doors near it, one of which opened into a tiny 
 dressing-room, and the other into the hall, a sort of 
 antechamber about eight feet square. 
 
 Chintz curtains, lined with pink, veiled the windows, 
 which were also decorated with pretty white muslin 
 sash curtains, tied back with pink ribbons. A carpet, 
 with a white ground, with small bouquets of pink roses 
 
 251
 
 PRIDE. 
 
 dropped here and there, this carpet had been the 
 most expensive item in Herminie's furnishing, covered 
 the floor. The mantel drapery, beautifully embroidered 
 by Herminie herself, was pale blue, with garlands of 
 roses and jonquils. Two candlesticks of exquisite Pom- 
 peian design stood, one on either side of a white marble 
 clock, surmounted by a statuette of Joan of Arc, while at 
 each end of the mantel stood two tall vases of gres verni, 
 a wonderful invention, by the way. These vases, which 
 were of the purest Etruscan form, held big bunches of 
 fresh roses, which filled the room with their delicious 
 fragrance. 
 
 These modest mantel decorations, being all of the 
 cheapest materials, were of slight intrinsic value, having 
 cost not more than fifty or sixty francs, but from an 
 artistic point of view they were irreproachable. 
 
 Opposite the fireplace stood Herminie's piano, her 
 bread-winner. Between the two windows was a table, 
 which also served as a bookcase, the duchess having 
 arranged several works by her favourite authors upon 
 it, as well as a few books which she had received as 
 prizes during her school-days. 
 
 Here and there upon the wall, in plain pine frames, so 
 highly polished that they looked like citron wood, hung 
 a few well-chosen engravings, among them " Mignon 
 Pining for Her Native Land," and "Mignon Longing 
 for Heaven," both by Scheffer, hanging one on either 
 side of Francesca da Rimini, by the same artist. 
 
 In two corners of the room small Stageres held several 
 plaster statuettes, reduced copies of famous antiques. 
 A small rosewood cabinet, bought for a song from some 
 second-hand furniture dealer in the Batignolles, two 
 pretty tapestry-covered chairs, Herminie's handiwork, 
 and a large armchair of green satin decorated with 
 beautiful silk embroidery in brilliant hues, representing 
 flowers and birds, completed the furniture of the room. 
 
 By means of industry and intelligence, combined with 
 252
 
 THE ABODE OF THE DUCHESS. 
 
 exquisite taste, Herminie had been able to create for 
 herself this elegant and refined home at comparatively 
 little expense. 
 
 Culinary duties or details may have been distasteful 
 to this fastidious duchess. At all events, she had man- 
 aged to escape that difficulty through the good offices of 
 the portress, who, for a trifling compensation, brought 
 her a glass of milk every morning, and in the evening 
 a plate of excellent soup, accompanied with a dish of 
 vegetables and some fruit, a frugal repast rendered 
 appetising enough by the exquisite daintiness of Her- 
 minie's dinner-table ; for though the duchess possessed 
 only two cups and half a dozen plates, they were of fine 
 china, and when the girl had placed on her round table, 
 covered with a napkin of dazzling whiteness, her carafe, 
 her cut-glass tumbler, her two shining silver forks and 
 spoons, and her pretty china plate decorated with tiny 
 pink roses and forget-me-nots, the simplest food seemed 
 wonderfully appetising. 
 
 But alas ! to Herminie's intense chagrin, her silver 
 spoons and forks, and her watch, the only really valua- 
 ble article she possessed, were now in pawn at the mont 
 de pitte, where she had been obliged to send them by 
 the portress, the poor girl having no other means of 
 defraying the daily expenses of her illness, and of obtain- 
 ing a small sum of money upon which she could live 
 until she was able to resume the lessons interrupted by 
 her illness, for a period of nearly two months. 
 
 This long delay was the cause of Herminie's extreme 
 poverty and consequent inability to pay the one hundred 
 and eighty francs she owed M. Bouffard for rent. 
 
 One hundred and eighty francs ! 
 
 And the poor child possessed only about fifteen francs 
 upon which she would have to live for nearly a month ! 
 
 It is evident, therefore, that the foot of a man had 
 never crossed Herminie's threshold. 
 
 The duchess, free and untrammelled in every way, 
 253
 
 PRIDE. 
 
 had never loved, though she had inspired love in the 
 hearts of many, without intending or even caring to do 
 so, for she was too proud to stoop to coquetry, and too 
 generous to enjoy the torments of an unrequited love. 
 None of her suitors had pleased Herminie, in spite of the 
 honesty of their matrimonial overtures, based in some 
 cases, at least, upon a certain amount of affluence, for 
 several had been engaged in business, while others were 
 musicians like Herminie herself, and others clerks in 
 dry-goods establishments, or bookkeepers. 
 
 The duchess could not fail to display, in her choice of 
 a husband, the refined taste and exquisite delicacy which 
 were her most prominent characteristics ; but it is need- 
 less to say that the social position of the man she loved, 
 whether high or low, would not have influenced her in 
 the least. 
 
 She knew by herself, and she gloried in the knowl- 
 edge, that rare nobility and refinement of soul are some- 
 times found in the poorest and most obscure, and that 
 which had oftenest offended her in her suitors were the 
 slight imperfections, not apparent very possibly to any one 
 save the duchess, but inexpressibly obnoxious to her. 
 
 This suitor had been too boisterous in manner ; that 
 one, too familiar and unrefined ; this one had a rasping 
 voice ; that one was almost grotesque in appearance. 
 Nevertheless, some of the rejected suitors possessed many 
 admirable qualities of mind and heart, as Herminie her- 
 self had been the first to admit. These she considered 
 the best and most worthy men in the world, and frankly 
 granted them her esteem, and even her friendship, but 
 not her love. 
 
 It was not from any feeling of disdain or foolish 
 ambition that Herminie had refused them, but simply, 
 as she herself had said to the unfortunates, " because she 
 felt no love for them, and was resolved to remain single 
 all her life rather than marry without experiencing a 
 sincere and profound love." And yet, by reason of this 
 
 254
 
 THE ABODE OF THE DUCHESS. 
 
 very pride, fastidiousness, and sensitiveness, Herrmnie 
 must have suffered much more than the generality of 
 persons from the painful and almost inevitable annoy- 
 ances inherent to the position of a young girl who is not 
 only obliged to live alone, but who is also exposed to the 
 unfortunate conditions which may result at any time 
 from a lack of employment or from sickness. 
 
 For some time, alas ! the duchess had been realising 
 most cruelly the unhappy consequences of her poverty 
 and isolation. Any person who understands Herminie's 
 character and her pride, a pride that had impelled the 
 young girl, in spite of her pressing need, to proudly 
 return the five hundred franc note sent her by the execu- 
 tors of the Beaumesnil estate, can readily understand 
 the mingled terror and dismay with which the poor child 
 was awaiting the return of M. Bouffard, for, as he had 
 remarked to Madame Barbangon, he intended to pay 
 his last round of visits to his delinquent tenants that 
 afternoon. 
 
 Herminie was trying to devise some means of satisfy- 
 ing this coarse and insolent man, but, having already 
 pawned her silver and her watch, she had nothing more 
 to pawn. No one would have loaned her twenty francs 
 on her mantel ornaments, tasteful as they were, and her 
 pictures and statuettes would have brought little or 
 nothing. 
 
 Overcome with terror at the thought of her truly 
 pitiable condition, Herminie was weeping bitterly and 
 shuddering in the dread expectation of hearing M. 
 Bouffard's imperious peal of the bell at any moment. 
 
 Yet so noble and generous was this young girl's 
 nature that, even in the midst of these cruel perplex- 
 ities, Herminie never once thought of saying to herself 
 that she might be saved by an infinitesimal portion of 
 the enormous superabundance belonging to the sister 
 whose sumptuous apartments she had seen a couple of 
 days before. If the duchess thought of her sister at all, 
 
 255
 
 PRIDE. 
 
 it was that she might find in the hope of seeing her 
 some diversion from her present grief and chagrin. And 
 for this sorrow and chagrin Herminie now blamed 
 herself as she cast a tearful glance around her pretty 
 room, reproaching herself the while for her unwarranted 
 expenditures. 
 
 She ought to have saved up this money for a rainy 
 day, she said to herself, and for such misfortunes as 
 sickness or a lack of pupils. She ought to have resigned 
 herself to taking a room on the fourth floor, next door 
 to strangers, to living separated from them only by a 
 thin partition, in a bare and desolate room with dirty 
 walls. She ought not to have allowed herself to be 
 tempted by this outlook upon a pretty garden, and by 
 the seclusion of her present apartments. She ought to 
 have kept her money, too, instead of spending it on the 
 pretty trifles which had been the only companions of her 
 solitude, and which had converted the little room into 
 a delightful retreat where she had lived so happily, 
 confident of her ability to support herself. 
 
 Who ever would have supposed that a person as proud 
 as she was would have to submit to the coarse, but just 
 abuse of a man to whom she owed money, money that 
 she could not pay ? 
 
 Could anything be more humiliating ? 
 
 But these severe though just reproaches for past delin- 
 quencies did not ameliorate her present misery in the 
 least ; and she remained seated in her armchair, her 
 eyes swollen with weeping, now absorbed in a gloomy 
 reverie, now starting violently at the slightest sound, 
 fearing that it presaged the arrival of M. Bouffard. 
 
 At last the agonising suspense was ended by a violent 
 pull of the bell. 
 
 " It is he," murmured the poor creature, trembling in 
 every limb. " I am lost ! " she moaned. 
 
 And she remained seated in her chair, absolutely 
 paralysed with fear. 
 
 256
 
 THE ABODE OP THE DUCHESS. 
 
 A second peal of the bell, even more violent than the 
 first, resounded in the tiny hall. 
 
 Herminie dried her eyes, summoned up all her cour- 
 age, and, pale and trembling, went to open the door. 
 
 She had not been deceived. 
 
 It was M. Bouffard. 
 
 This glorious representative of the nation had laid 
 aside the uniform of a citizen soldier and donned a gray 
 sack coat. 
 
 " Well, have you my money ready ? " he demanded, 
 roughly, planting himself on the threshold of the door 
 the girl had opened for him with such an unsteady hand. 
 
 " But, monsieur " 
 
 " Do you intend to pay me, yes or no ? " exclaimed 
 M. Bouffard, in such a loud voice that the question was 
 overheard by two other persons. 
 
 One was then standing under the porte-cochere. The 
 other was mounting the staircase which started close to 
 the entrance to Herminie's apartments. 
 
 " I ask you for the last time, will you pay me ? An- 
 swer me, yes or no ! " repeated M. Bouffard, in even 
 louder and more threatening tones. 
 
 " In pity do not speak so loud," said Herminie, in 
 imploring accents. " I assure you that, though I cannot 
 pay you, it is not my fault ; indeed it is not." 
 
 " I am in my own house, and I will talk as I please. 
 If any one overhears me so much the better. It may 
 serve as a lesson to other tenants who may want to get 
 out of paying their rent just like you." 
 
 " Step inside, monsieur, I beseech you," pleaded Her- 
 minie, clasping her hands, imploringly ; " and I will 
 explain." 
 
 " Explain explain what ? " retorted M. Bouffard, 
 following the girl into her room. " There's no expla- 
 nation possible. The whole affair is very simple. Are 
 you going to pay me, yes, or no ? " 
 
 " It is impossible, unfortunately, just at this time," 
 257
 
 PRIDE. 
 
 said Herminie, dashing away a tear, "but if you will 
 have the great kindness to wait " 
 
 " Always the same old story ! " sneered M. Bouffard, 
 shrugging his shoulders. 
 
 Then glancing around the room with a sardonic air, 
 he added : 
 
 " This is a pretty state of things ! Here is a tenant 
 who declares she cannot pay her rent, and yet in- 
 dulges in fine carpets, chintz hangings, and all sorts of 
 knick-knacks. If it isn't enough to make a man swear ! 
 I, who own seven houses in the city of Paris, have a 
 carpet only in my drawing-room, and Madame Bouffard's 
 boudoir is hung with a fifteen sous paper ; and yet, here 
 is a young woman who gives herself the airs of a prin- 
 cess, though she hasn't a penny." 
 
 Herminie, driven to desperation, lifted her head 
 proudly, and, in a manner that was both firm and digni- 
 fied, said : 
 
 " This piano is worth at least four times the amount 
 of my indebtedness, monsieur. Send for it whenever 
 you please. It is the only article of value I possess. 
 Dispose of it ; sell it whenever you like." 
 
 " Am I a dealer in pianos ? How do I know what I 
 should realise from the sale of your instrument ? You 
 must pay me my rent in money, and not in pianos." 
 
 " But good heavens, monsieur ! I have no money. I 
 offer you my piano, though I earn my living by it. 
 What more can I do ? " 
 
 " I won't accept anything of the kind. You have 
 money, I know it. You sent a watch and some silver, 
 too, to the pawnbroker's, for it was my portress who 
 took them there for you. You can't humbug me, you 
 see." 
 
 " Alas ! monsieur, the paltry sum they loaned me I 
 have been obliged to spend for " 
 
 But Herminie did not finish the sentence. She had 
 just perceived a gentleman standing in the open door- 
 
 258
 
 THE ABODE OF THE DUCHESS. 
 
 way. It was M. de Maillefort, and he had been an un- 
 observed witness of the painful scene for several minutes. 
 
 Noting the girl's sudden start, and the surprised glance 
 she was directing towards the door, M. Bouffard turned 
 his head, and, seeing the hunchback, seemed quite as 
 astonished as Herminie. 
 
 The marquis now advanced, and, bowing respectfully 
 to Herminie, said : 
 
 " I beg a thousand pardons for thus intruding, made- 
 moiselle, but I found the door open, and as I hope you 
 will do me the honour to grant me a few moments' conver- 
 sation on a very important matter, I ventured to enter.'* 
 
 After these words, which were uttered with as much 
 courtesy as deference, the marquis turned to M. Bouf- 
 fard and surveyed him from head to foot with such an 
 expression of withering contempt that the ex-grocer 
 became not only embarrassed, but thoroughly intimidated 
 as well, in the presence of this hunchback, who said to 
 him, coldly : 
 
 " I came, monsieur, to solicit the honour of a few 
 minutes' conversation with this young lady." 
 
 0h ah! Well, what is that to me?" grunted M. 
 Bouffard, gradually regaining his assurance. 
 
 The marquis, without paying the slightest attention 
 to M. Bouffard, and addressing Herminie, who was be- 
 coming more and more astonished, asked, deferentially : 
 
 " Will mademoiselle do me the favour to grant me the 
 interview I ask ? " 
 
 " But, monsieur," replied the girl, much embarrassed, 
 " I do not know I am not sure 
 
 " I must take the liberty of remarking that, as it is 
 absolutely necessary that our conversation should be 
 strictly confidential, it is indispensable that this this 
 gentleman should leave us, unless there may still be 
 something you wish to say to him. In that case, I will 
 retire." 
 
 "I have nothing further to say to monsieur," an- 
 
 259
 
 PRIDE. 
 
 swered Herminie, pleased at the idea of escaping from 
 her present painful position, even for a few moments. 
 
 " Mademoiselle has nothing more to say to you, 
 monsieur," said the marquis to M. Bouffard, with a 
 meaning gesture. 
 
 But the ex-grocer, who was now himself again, and 
 who was consequently furious at the thought that he had 
 allowed himself to be awed by the hunchback, exclaimed : 
 
 " So you fancy a man can be turned out of his own 
 house without paying him his just dues, monsieur, and 
 all because you support this " 
 
 " Enough, monsieur, enough ! " cried the marquis, 
 hastily interrupting Bouffard. 
 
 And even as he spoke, he seized the offender by the 
 arm with such violence that the ex-grocer, feeling the 
 long, bony fingers of the hunchback hold him as in a vise, 
 gazed at him with mingled fear and astonishment. 
 
 But the marquis, still smiling in the most amiable 
 manner, continued with marvellous affability : 
 
 " I regret that I am unable to enjoy your delightful 
 society any longer, my dear sir, but you see I am at 
 mademoiselle's orders, and as she is good enough to 
 grant me a few minutes, I must not abuse her kindness." 
 
 As he spoke, the marquis half led, half dragged M. 
 Bouffard to the door, and that worthy, astonished to 
 encounter such physical vigour and such an authoritative 
 manner in a hunchback, offered no further resistance. 
 
 " I will go, as I have some other matters to attend 
 to in the house," he exclaimed, making the best of the 
 situation. " I am going up-stairs for awhile, but I shall 
 return after you leave. I intend to have my money then, 
 if I don't " 
 
 The marquis bowed ironically, closed the door in the 
 ex-grocer's face, and then returned to Herminie. 
 
 260
 
 CHAPTER XXVm. 
 
 A SACRED MISSION. 
 
 M. DE MAILLEFORT, much impressed by what Madame 
 de la Rochaigue had told him about the young musician 
 who had been so unjustly treated, as she averred, by 
 Madame de Beaumesnil, had again questioned Madame 
 Dupont, a confidential attendant of the deceased countess. 
 
 This examination, which the marquis had conducted 
 with great prudence and skill, revealed many new details 
 concerning the relations which had existed between the 
 countess and that young girl, and though Madame Du- 
 pont seemed to have no suspicion of the truth, M. de 
 Maillefort felt almost certain that Herminie must be 
 Madame de Beaumesnil's illegitimate child. 
 
 In spite of this firm conviction on his part, the mar- 
 quis resolved to approach Herminie with the greatest 
 reserve, not only because any revelation of his suspicions 
 would dishonour Madame de Beaumesnil's memory, but, 
 also, because the countess had never revealed her secret 
 to M. de Maillefort, who had mistrusted rather than 
 discovered it. 
 
 Herminie, utterly unable to imagine the object of this 
 stranger's visit, was standing by the mantel, pale and 
 agitated when the marquis returned to her side after 
 M. Bouffard's summary expulsion. 
 
 A single quick glance around the abode of the duchess 
 had satisfied the marquis of the perfect order, refined 
 taste, and exquisite neatness of the girl's home, and this, 
 together with what Madame de la Rochaigue had told 
 
 261
 
 PRIDE. 
 
 him of her noble disinterestedness, gave him a very high 
 opinion of Herminie, and, almost sure that he saw in her 
 the person he was so anxious to find, he studied her 
 charming features in the hope of discovering a resem- 
 blance to Madame de Beaumesnil, and fancied that he 
 had succeeded. 
 
 Though she did not exactly resemble her mother, 
 Herminie, like Madame de Beaumesnil, was a blonde. 
 Like her, she had blue eyes, and though the contour of 
 the two faces was not alike, there was certainly a family 
 likeness that could not fail to strike a close observer like 
 M. de Maillefort; so it was with an emotion that he 
 found it difficult to conceal that he approached Herminie, 
 who was becoming more and more embarrassed by the 
 long silence, and by the searching though almost affec- 
 tionate gaze of her strange visitor. 
 
 " Mademoiselle," he said, at last, in an almost fatherly 
 tone, " I must beg you to excuse my delay, but I experi- 
 ence a sort of embarrassment in expressing the great 
 interest I feel in you." 
 
 M. de Maillefort's voice, as he uttered these words, 
 was so full of feeling that the young girl looked at him 
 wonderingly, then, more and more surprised, she ventured, 
 timidly : 
 
 " But this interest, monsieur " 
 
 " You cannot imagine what has aroused it. Very 
 well, I will tell you, my dear child, for let me call 
 you that," the hunchback continued, as if in answer to a 
 hasty movement on the part of Herminie ; " my age and 
 the interest I feel in you certainly give me a right to call 
 you my dear child, if you will permit such a familiarity." 
 
 " It might serve to prove my gratitude for the kind 
 and consoling words you have just uttered, monsieur, 
 though the humiliating position in which you just saw 
 me placed " 
 
 " Oh, do not trouble yourself in the least about that," 
 interrupted the marquis, "I " 
 
 262
 
 A SACRED MISSION. 
 
 " I am not trying to justify myself," said Herminie, 
 proudly, interrupting the marquis in her turn. " I have 
 nothing to blush for, and though, for some inexplicable 
 reason, you are kind enough to evince an interest in 
 me, it is only my duty to tell you, or to try to prove to 
 you, that it was neither mismanagement, extravagance, 
 nor idleness that placed me in such a humiliating posi- 
 tion for the first time in my life. Ill for nearly two 
 months past, I have been unable to give lessons as usual. 
 I resumed them only a few days ago, so I have been 
 obliged to spend the small amount of money I had saved. 
 This is the truth, monsieur. If I am a little in debt, it 
 is only in consequence of my illness." 
 
 " Strange," thought the marquis, mentally comparing 
 the date of the countess's death with that of the begin- 
 ning of Herminie's illness, " it was about the time of 
 Madame de Beaumesnil's death that this poor child must 
 have been taken ill. Can grief have been the cause ? " 
 
 And in tones of touching sympathy, the marquis 
 asked aloud : 
 
 " And was this attack of illness severe, my dear child ? 
 You were overworked, perhaps." 
 
 Herminie blushed deeply. Her embarrassment was 
 great, for she felt that it would be necessary to utter 
 an untruth to conceal the real cause of her illness, and it 
 was with considerable hesitation that she finally replied : 
 
 " I think I must have been overfatigued, monsieur, 
 for the attack was followed by a sort of mental prostra- 
 tion, but now, thank Heaven, I am well again." 
 
 The girl's embarrassment and hesitation did not 
 escape the marquis, who had already noted the ex- 
 pression of profound melancholy on Herminie's features. 
 
 " There isn't the slightest doubt of it," he mentally 
 exclaimed. " She became ill with grief after Madame 
 de Beaumesnil's death. She knows, then, that the count- 
 ess was her mother. But in that case, why didn't the 
 countess, in the frequent opportunities she must have 
 
 263
 
 PRIDE. 
 
 had to be alone with her daughter, give her this money 
 she entrusted to me ? " 
 
 A prey to these perplexities, the hunchback, after 
 another silence, said to Hermime : 
 
 " My dear child, I came here with the intention of 
 maintaining the utmost reserve. Distrusting my own 
 judgment, and greatly in doubt as to the course I ought 
 to pursue, I had resolved to approach the subject that 
 brought me here with infinite caution, for it is a delicate, 
 yes, a sacred mission, that I have to fulfil." 
 
 " What do you mean, monsieur ? " 
 
 " Will you be kind enough to listen to me, my dear 
 child. What I have heard about you, and what I have 
 just seen, or rather divined, perhaps, in short, the 
 confidence you inspire, had changed this determination 
 on my part, and I am going to talk to you freely and 
 frankly, sure that I am speaking to an honest, true- 
 hearted woman. You know Madame de Beaumesnil, 
 you loved her " 
 
 Herminie could not repress a movement of astonish- 
 ment, mingled with anxiety. 
 
 " Yes, I know," continued the hunchback. " You loved 
 Madame de Beaumesnil devotedly. Your grief at her 
 death was the sole cause of your illness." 
 
 " Monsieur," cried Herminie, terrified to see her secret, 
 or rather that of her mother, almost at the mercy of 
 a stranger, " I do not know what you mean. I con- 
 ceived for Madame de Beaumesnil, during the brief time 
 we were together, the respectful affection she deserved. 
 Like all who knew her, I deeply deplored her death, 
 but" 
 
 " It is only right and natural that you should answer 
 me thus, my dear child," said the marquis, interrupting 
 Herminie. " You cannot have much confidence in me, 
 not knowing who I am, not knowing even my name. 
 I am M. de Maillefort." 
 
 " M. de Maillefort ! " exclaimed the young girl, remem- 
 264
 
 A SACRED MISSION. 
 
 bering that she had written a letter addressed to the 
 marquis for her mother. 
 
 " You have heard my name before, then ! " 
 
 " Yes, monsieur. Madame la Comtesse de Beaumes- 
 nil, not feeling strong enough to write herself, asked me 
 to do it in her stead, and the letter you received on the 
 night of her death " 
 
 " Was written by you ? " 
 
 " Yes, monsieur." 
 
 " Then you must feel, my dear child, that you owe me 
 your entire confidence. Madame de Beaumesnil had no 
 more devoted friend than myself, and it was upon the 
 strength of this friendship of more than thirty years' 
 standing, that she felt she could rely upon me sufficiently 
 to entrust me with a sacred mission." 
 
 " Can he mean that my mother confided the secret of 
 my birth to him ? " thought Herminie. 
 
 The marquis, noticing Herminie's increasing agita- 
 tion, and confident that he had at last found Madame 
 de Beaumesnil' s illegitimate daughter, continued : 
 
 "The letter you wrote for Madame de Beaumesnil 
 requested me to come to her even at that late hour 
 of the night. You remember this fact, do you not ? " 
 
 " Yes, monsieur." 
 
 " I obeyed the summons as soon as I received it. The 
 countess felt that her end was fast approaching," con- 
 tinued the hunchback, in a voice that trembled with 
 suppressed emotion. " After commending her daughter 
 Ernestine to my care, Madame de Beaumesnil implored 
 me to to do her a last service. She entreated me to 
 to divide my care and interest between her daughter 
 and and another young girl no less dear to her 
 
 "He knows all," Herminie said to herself, with a 
 sinking heart. " My poor mother's sin is no secret to 
 him." 
 
 "This other young girl," continued the hunchback, 
 more and more overcome, " was an angel, the countess told 
 
 265
 
 PRIDE. 
 
 me. Yes, those were her very words, an angel of virtue 
 and courage, a brave and noble-hearted girl," added the 
 marquis, his eyes wet with tears. " A poor, lonely orphan, 
 who, though destitute alike of friends and resources, had 
 struggled bravely on against a most adverse fate. Ah, 
 if you could have heard the accents of despairing tender- 
 ness in which that most unhappy woman and unfortunate 
 mother spoke of that young girl ; for I divined though 
 she made no such admission, deterred, doubtless, by the 
 shame of such an avowal that only a mother could 
 speak thus and suffer thus on thinking of her daughter's 
 fate. No, no, it was not a stranger that the countess 
 commended to my care with so much earnestness on her 
 death-bed." 
 
 The marquis, overcome by emotion, paused an instant 
 and wiped his tear-dimmed eyes. 
 
 " Oh, my mother," Herminie said to herself, making 
 a brave effort at self-control, " then your last thoughts 
 were indeed of your unhappy daughter ! " 
 
 " I made the dying woman a solemn promise that 
 I would fulfil her last request, and divide my solicitude 
 between Ernestine de Beaumesnil and the young girl 
 the countess implored me so earnestly to protect. Then 
 she gave me this purse," continued the hunchback, draw- 
 ing it from his pocket, " which contains, she assured me, 
 a small competence which she charged me to deliver to 
 the young girl whose future would thus be assured. But, 
 unfortunately, Madame de Beaumesnil breathed her last 
 without having told me the orphan's name." 
 
 " Thank Heaven ! He only has his suspicions, then ! " 
 Herminie said to herself, rapturously. " I shall not have 
 to bear the anguish of seeing a stranger know my moth- 
 er's fault. Her memory will remain untarnished." 
 
 " You can judge of my anxiety and chagrin, my dear 
 child," continued the marquis. " How was I to comply 
 with Madame de Beaumesnil's last request, ignorant of 
 the young girl's name ? Nevertheless, I began my search, 
 
 266
 
 A SACRED MISSION. 
 
 and, at last, after many fruitless attempts, I have found 
 that orphan girl, beautiful, courageous, generous, as her 
 poor mother said, and that girl is is you my child 
 my dear child," cried the hunchback, seizing both Her- 
 minie's hands. 
 
 Then, in a transport of joy and ineffable tenderness, he 
 exclaimed : 
 
 " You see I have indeed the right to call you my child. 
 No, never was there any father prouder of his daughter ! " 
 
 " Monsieur," answered Herminie, in a voice she tried 
 hard to make calm and firm, " though it costs me a great 
 deal to destroy this illusion on your part, it is my duty 
 to do it." 
 
 " What ! " cried the hunchback. 
 
 " I am not the person you are seeking, monsieur," 
 replied Herminie, firmly. 
 
 The marquis recoiled a step or two and gazed at the 
 young girl without being able to utter a word. 
 
 To resist the influence of the revelation M. de Maille- 
 fort had just made to her, Herminie needed a heroic 
 courage born of all that was purest and noblest in her 
 character, filial pride. 
 
 The young girl's heart revolted at the mere thought 
 of confessing her mother's disgrace to a stranger by 
 acknowledging herself to be Madame de Beaumesnil's 
 daughter. 
 
 For what right had Herminie to confirm this stranger's 
 suspicions by revealing a secret the countess herself had 
 been unwilling to confess to her most devoted friend, 
 a secret, too, which her mother had had the strength 
 to conceal from her when clasped to her bosom, her 
 child's heart-throbs mingled with her own. 
 
 While these generous thoughts were passing swiftly 
 through Herminie's mind, the marquis, astounded by 
 this refusal on the part of a young girl whose identity 
 he could not doubt, tried in vain to discover the reason 
 of this strange determination on her part. 
 
 267
 
 PRIDE. 
 
 At last he said to Herminie : 
 
 "Some motive, which it is impossible for me to 
 fathom, prevents you from telling me the truth, my 
 dear child. This motive, whatever it may be, is cer- 
 tainly noble and generous ; then, why conceal it from 
 me, your mother's friend, a friend who feels that he is 
 obeying your mother's last wishes in coming to you ? " 
 
 " This conversation is as painful to me as it is to you, 
 M. le marquis," Herminie replied, sadly, " for it brings 
 to mind a person who treated me with the greatest kind- 
 ness during the brief time I was called upon to minister 
 to her as a musician, and in no other capacity, I give you 
 my word. I think that this declaration should be suffi- 
 cient, and that you should spare me further entreaties 
 on this subject. I repeat that I am not the person you 
 are seeking." 
 
 On hearing this assurance again repeated, some of M. 
 de Maillefort's doubts returned ; but unwilling to abandon 
 all hope, he exclaimed : 
 
 " No, no, I cannot be mistaken. Never shall I forget 
 Madame de BeaumesniPs anxiety, nor her prayers for " 
 
 " Permit me to interrupt you, M. le marquis, and to 
 say to you that, under the painful influence of a scene 
 that must have been particularly trying to you, you 
 doubtless mistook the nature of the interest Madame de 
 Beaumesnil felt in the orphan of whom you speak. To 
 defend Madame de Beaumesnil's memory against such 
 a mistake, I have no other right than that of gratitude, 
 but the respectful regard I and every one else felt for 
 Madame la comtesse convinces me that this is an error 
 on your part." 
 
 This manner of looking at the matter accorded too 
 well with M. de Maillefort's own secret hopes for him 
 to turn an entirely deaf ear to this argument. Still, 
 remembering the terrible anguish of the countess when 
 she commended the orphan to his protection, he 
 said: 
 
 268
 
 A SACRED MISSION. 
 
 " This much is certain : no one would speak in such 
 terms of a stranger." 
 
 " How do you know that, M. le marquis ? " retorted 
 Herminie, gaining ground inch by inch. " I have heard 
 many instances cited of Madame de Beaumesnil's bound- 
 less generosity. Her affection for some persons she 
 assisted was, I have heard, as great as that she mani- 
 fested for the orphan she asked you to protect, and as 
 this girl, you say, is as deserving as she is unfortunate, 
 it seems to me a sufficient explanation of the great inter- 
 est the countess took in her. Possibly, too, she felt her 
 protection to be a duty. Possibly some friend had con- 
 fided the girl to Madame de Beaumesnil's care, as that 
 lady in turn confided her to yours." 
 
 " But in that case, why should she have laid such 
 stress upon concealing the name of the donor from the 
 person to whom I was to deliver this money ? " 
 
 " Because Madame de Beaumesnil, in this case, per- 
 haps, as in many others, wished to conceal her benevo- 
 lence." 
 
 And Herminie having now entirely recovered her cool- 
 ness and composure, presented these arguments with such 
 readiness that the marquis at last began to think that he 
 had been deceived, and that he had suspected Madame 
 de Beaumesnil unjustly. 
 
 Then a new idea occurred to him, and he exclaimed : 
 
 " But even admitting that the merit and the misfor- 
 tunes of this orphan are her only claim, do not these 
 conditions seem especially applicable in your own case ? 
 Why should it not be you the countess meant ? " he 
 asked. 
 
 " I knew Madame de Beaumesnil too short a time for 
 me to deserve any such mark of her bounty, M. le mar- 
 quis ; besides, as the countess did not designate me by 
 name, how can I, I appeal to your own delicacy of 
 feeling, how can I accept a large sum of money on the 
 mere supposition that it may have been intended for me ? " 
 
 269
 
 PRIDE. 
 
 " All that would be very true if you did not deserve 
 the gift." 
 
 " And in what way have I deserved it, M. le marquis ? " 
 
 " By your attentions to the countess, and the alleviation 
 of suffering she secured through you. Why is it at all 
 unlikely that she should have desired to compensate you 
 as she did others ? " 
 
 " I do not understand you, monsieur." 
 
 " The will of the countess contained several legacies. 
 You seem to be the only person who was forgotten, in 
 fact." 
 
 " I had no right to expect any bequest, M. le marquis. 
 I was paid for rny services." 
 
 " By Madame de Beaumesnil ? " 
 
 " By Madame de Beaumesnil," answered Herminie, 
 firmly. 
 
 " Yes, you said as much to Madame de la Rochaigue 
 on so nobly returning " 
 
 " Money that did not belong to me, M. le marquis, 
 that is all." 
 
 " No ! " exclaimed M. de Maillefort, his former con- 
 victions suddenly regaining the ascendency. " No, I was 
 not mistaken, instinct, reason, conviction, all tell me 
 that you are " 
 
 " M. le marquis," said Herminie, interrupting the 
 hunchback, for she was anxious to put an end to this 
 painful scene, " one word more, and only one. You 
 were Madame de Beaumesnil's most valued friend, for 
 on her death-bed she entrusted her daughter to your 
 care. Would she not also have told you in that supreme 
 moment if she had another child ? " 
 
 " Great Heaven, no ! " exclaimed the marquis, involun- 
 tarily. " The unhappy woman would have shrunk from 
 the shame of such an avowal." 
 
 " Yes, I am,, sure of that," thought Herminie, bitterly. 
 " And is it I who will make the disgraceful confession 
 from which my poor mother shrank ? " 
 
 270
 
 A SACRED MISSION. 
 
 The conversation was here interrupted by M. Bouf- 
 fard's entrance. The emotion of the marquis and of 
 the young girl was so great that they had not noticed 
 the opening of the hall door. 
 
 The once ferocious landlord seemed to be in a very 
 different mood. Something must have appeased his 
 wrath, for his coarse and brutal manner had vanished, 
 and his rubicund visage was wreathed with a crafty 
 smile. 
 
 " What do you want ? " demanded the marquis, curtly. 
 " What are you doing here ? " 
 
 " I came to make my excuses to mademoiselle." 
 
 " Your excuses ? " said the young girl, greatly sur- 
 prised. 
 
 " Yes, mademoiselle, and I wish to make them before 
 monsieur, as I reproached you for not paying me in his 
 presence, so I now declare before him, I swear it in 
 the presence of God and man, I swear that I have 
 been paid all that mademoiselle owed me." 
 
 " You have been paid ! " cried Herminie, in amaze- 
 ment ; " and by whom, monsieur ? " 
 
 " Oh, you know very well, mademoiselle," responded 
 M. Bouffard, with the same coarse laugh. " You know 
 very well ! What a sly one you are ! " 
 
 " I have no idea what you mean, monsieur," said 
 Herminie, indignantly. 
 
 " Bah ! " cried M. Bouffard, shrugging his shoulders, 
 " I suppose you're not going to try to make me believe 
 that handsome young men pay the rent for pretty 
 blondes merely for the love of God ! " 
 
 "Some one has paid my rent for me, monsieur?" 
 demanded Herminie, blushing scarlet. 
 
 " Yes, some one has paid it, and in shining yellow 
 gold," replied M. Bouffard, drawing several gleaming 
 coins from his pocket and tossing them up in the air. 
 " Look at the yellow boys, ain't they pretty, eh ? " 
 
 " And this gold, monsieur," said Herminie, unable to 
 271
 
 PRIDE. 
 
 believe her own ears, "this gold who gave it to 
 you?" 
 
 "Oh, don't try to play innocent, my dear. The 
 person who paid me is a handsome fellow, tall, and dark 
 complexioned, with a brown moustache. That descrip- 
 tion would answer for his passport, if he wanted one." 
 
 The marquis had listened to M. Bouffard first with 
 surprise, and then with utter dismay. 
 
 This young girl, in whom he had taken so deep an 
 interest, had suddenly become hateful in his eyes ; so 
 coldly bowing to Herminie, he walked silently to the 
 door, with an expression of bitter disappointment on his 
 face. 
 
 " Ah," he thought, " still another lost illusion ! " 
 
 " Remain, monsieur," cried the young girl, running 
 after him, all of a tremble, and overcome with shame, 
 " I entreat you I implore you to remain ! " 
 
 272
 
 CHAPTER XXIX. 
 
 HUMILIATION AND CONSOLATION. 
 
 ON hearing Herminie's appeal, M. de Maillefort turned 
 and asked, coldly and sternly : 
 
 " What do you want, mademoiselle ? " 
 
 " What do I want, monsieur ? " the girl exclaimed, 
 her cheeks on fire, her eyes sparkling with tears of 
 wounded pride and indignation. " What I want is to 
 tell this man in your presence that he lies." 
 
 " I ? " snorted M. Bouffard, indignantly. " Really, 
 this is a little too much, when I have the yellow boys 
 right here in my pocket." 
 
 " But I tell you that you lie ! " cried the girl, advanc- 
 ing towards him, with a commanding gesture. " I have 
 given no one the right to pay you, or to make me the 
 victim of such an insult." 
 
 In spite of the coarseness of his nature, M. Bouffard 
 was not a little impressed by this display of fiery in- 
 dignation, so retreating a step or two, the owner of the 
 house stammered by way of excuse : 
 
 " But I swear to you, mademoiselle, upon my sacred 
 word of honour, that, as I was going up-stairs a few 
 minutes ago, I was stopped on the first landing by a 
 handsome, dark-complexioned young man who gave me 
 this gold to pay your rent. I'm telling you the honest 
 truth ; upon my word I am ! " 
 
 " Oh, my God, to be humiliated and insulted like 
 this!" cried the young girl, her long repressed sobs 
 bursting forth at last. 
 
 273
 
 PRIDE. 
 
 After a moment, turning to the hunchback, a silent 
 witness of the scene, Herminie said, in entreating tones, 
 her beautiful face bathed with tears : 
 
 " Oh, in pity, do not believe that I have merited this 
 insult, M. le marquis." 
 
 " A marquis ! " muttered M. Bouffard, hastily remov- 
 ing his hat, which he had kept upon his head up to that 
 time. 
 
 M. de Maillefort, turning to Herminie, his face beam- 
 ing as if a heavy weight had been lifted from his heart, 
 took her by the hand as a father might have done, and 
 said: 
 
 " I believe you, I believe you, my dear child ! Do 
 not stoop to justify yourself. Your tears, and the 
 evident sincerity of your words, as well as your just 
 indignation, all satisfy me that you are speaking the 
 truth, and that this insulting liberty was taken without 
 your knowledge or consent." 
 
 " I am certainly willing to say this much," said M. 
 Bouffard, " though I've been in the habit of coming to 
 the house almost every day, I never saw this young man 
 before. But why do you feel so badly about it, my dear 
 young lady ? Your rent is paid, and you may as well 
 make the best of it. There are plenty of other people 
 who would like to be humiliated in the same way. Ha, 
 ha, ha ! " added M. Bouffard, with his coarse laugh. 
 
 " But you will not keep this money, monsieur ? " cried 
 Herminie. " I beg you will not ; sell my piano, my 
 bed, anything I possess, but in pity return this money 
 to the person who gave it to you. If you keep it, the 
 shame is mine, monsieur ! " 
 
 " How you do go on ! " exclaimed M. Bouffard. " 1 
 didn't feel insulted in the least in pocketing my rent. 
 A bird in the hand is worth two in the bush, you know. 
 Besides, where am I likely to find this handsome young 
 man to return him his money ? He is a stranger to me. 
 I haven't the slightest idea who he is or where he came 
 
 274
 
 HUMILIATION AND CONSOLATION. 
 
 from ; but it can easily be arranged. When you see 
 the fellow you can tell him that it was against your 
 wishes that I kept his money, but that I am a regular 
 old Shylock and all that. Put all the blame on me, I 
 don't mind ; I've got a thick hide." 
 
 " Mademoiselle," said M. de Maillefort, addressing Her- 
 minie, who, with her face buried in her hands, was 
 silently weeping, " will you consent to take my advice ? " 
 
 " What would you have me do, monsieur ? " 
 
 "Accept from me, who am old enough to be your 
 father, from me, who was the devoted friend of a 
 person for whom you had as much respect as affection, 
 accept from me a loan sufficient to pay this gentle- 
 man. Each month you can pay me in small instalments. 
 As for the money monsieur has already received, why, 
 he must do his best to find the stranger who gave it to 
 him. If he fails, he must give the money to some local 
 charity." 
 
 Herminie listened to this proposal with the liveliest 
 gratitude. 
 
 "Oh, thank you, thank you, M. le marquis," she 
 exclaimed. " I accept your kind offer gladly, and am 
 proud to be under obligations to you." 
 
 " But I utterly refuse to be a party to any such ar- 
 rangement," exclaimed M. Bouffard. 
 
 " And why, monsieur ? " demanded the marquis. 
 
 "I will not, I will not, I tell you. It sha'n't be 
 said that in short, I'm not such a monster that but 
 no matter, let it be understood, once for all, that the 
 marquis is to keep his money. I'll try to find that 
 young coxcomb ; if I don't, I'll drop his money in the 
 poor-box. I won't sell your piano, mademoiselle, but 
 I'll be paid, all the same. What do you say to that ? " 
 
 " Have the goodness to explain, monsieur, if you 
 please," said the marquis. 
 
 " Well, this is the long and short of it," answered M. 
 Bouffard. " My daughter Cornelia has a music teacher, 
 
 275
 
 PRIDE. 
 
 quite a famous teacher, I believe, a M. Tonnerrilius- 
 koff " 
 
 " With such a name one ought certainly to make a 
 noise in the world," said the marquis. 
 
 " And on the piano, too, M. le marquis. He's a six- 
 footer, with a big, black moustache, and hands as big as 
 as shoulders of mutton. But this famous teacher costs 
 like the devil, fifteen francs a lesson, to say nothing of 
 the repairs to the piano, which he almost hammers to 
 pieces, he is so strong. Now if mademoiselle here would 
 give Cornelia lessons at five no, say four francs a les- 
 son, and three lessons a week, that would make twelve 
 francs a week, she could soon pay me what she owes 
 me, and afterwards could pay her entire rent that way." 
 
 " Bravo, M. Bouffard ! " cried the marquis. 
 
 " Well, what do you think of my proposition, made- 
 moiselle ? " 
 
 " I accept it most gratefully, and thank you with all 
 my heart for this chance to free myself of my obligations 
 to you in such an easy way. I assure you that I will do 
 everything possible to further your daughter's progress." 
 
 " Oh, that will be all right, I'm sure. It is under- 
 stood, is it ? Three lessons a week, at four francs a 
 lesson, beginning day after to-morrow. That will be 
 twelve francs a week, better call it ten, I guess, it's 
 easier to calculate. Ten francs a week makes forty 
 francs a month, quite a snug little sum." 
 
 " Any terms you choose to name will suit me, mon- 
 sieur. . I accept them gratefully." 
 
 " Ah, well, my dear sir," said the marquis, turning to 
 M. Bouffard, " aren't you much better satisfied with 
 yourself now than you were awhile ago, when you were 
 frightening this poor child nearly to death by your 
 threats?" 
 
 "That's a fact, monsieur, that's a fact, for this 
 young lady is certainly deserving. Then, too, I shall 
 get rid of that odious music master, with his big, black 
 
 276
 
 HUMILIATION AND CONSOLATION. 
 
 moustache and fifteen franc lessons. Besides, he is always 
 having his big hands on Cornelia's hands to show her 
 the fingering, he says, and I don't like it." 
 
 " My dear M. Bouffard," said the marquis, taking the 
 ex-grocer a little aside, " will you allow me to give you 
 a word of advice ? " 
 
 " Why certainly, M. le marquis." 
 
 "Never give masters to a young girl or a young 
 woman, because sometimes, you see, there is a change 
 of roles." 
 
 "A change of rSles, M. le marquis?" repeated M. 
 Bouffard, wonderingly. 
 
 " Yes ; not unfrequently the scholar becomes the mis- 
 tress, the mistress of the master. Understand ? " 
 
 " The mistress of the master ? Oh, yes, very good ! 
 I understand perfectly. That is good ; very good, in- 
 deed ! Ha, ha, ha ! " 
 
 Then, suddenly becoming serious, he added : 
 
 " But now I think of it, if that Hercule de Tonner- 
 riliuskoff undertakes " 
 
 " Mile. Bouffard' s virtue must be above suspicion, my 
 dear sir ; still, it might be safer " 
 
 " The brigand shall never set foot in my house again. 
 Thanks for your counsel, M. le marquis." 
 
 Then, returning to Herminie, M. Bouffard added : 
 
 " So we will begin day after to-morrow at two o'clock ; 
 that is Cornelia's hour." 
 
 " At two o'clock, then. I will be punctual, I promise 
 you." 
 
 " And at ten francs a week ? " 
 
 " Yes, monsieur, and even less, if you say so." 
 
 " Would you come for eight ? " 
 
 " Yes," answered Herminie, smiling, in spite of her- 
 self. 
 
 " We'll say eight francs, then." 
 
 " Come, come, M. Bouffard, a wealthy real estate 
 owner like you shouldn't stoop to any such haggling," 
 
 277
 
 PRIDE. 
 
 the marquis interposed. " What ! an elector, per- 
 haps even an officer in the National Guard, for you 
 seem to me quite equal to such a position " 
 
 M. Bouffard straightened himself up proudly, and, 
 making a military salute, responded : 
 
 "A second lieutenant in the first company of the 
 second regiment of the first batallion, M. le marquis." 
 
 "All the more reason that you should uphold the 
 dignity of your rank, dear M. Bouffard," replied M. de 
 Maillefort. 
 
 " That is true, M. le marquis. I said ten francs, and 
 ten francs it shall be. I always honour my signature. 
 I will go and try to find that young coxcomb. He may 
 be hanging around somewhere outside the house now. 
 I'll ask Mother Moufflon, the portress, if she knows 
 anything about him, and tell her to watch out for him. 
 Your servant, M. le marquis. I'll see you again, day 
 after to-morrow, mademoiselle." 
 
 Then, turning again, just as he reached the door, he 
 said to Herminie : 
 
 " Mademoiselle, an idea has just occurred to me. You 
 see I'd like to convince the marquis here that Bouffard 
 is not such a bad fellow, after all." 
 
 " Let us hear the idea, M. Bouffard," said the hunch- 
 back. 
 
 " You see that little garden out there, M. le marquis ? " 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 " It belongs to the large apartment on this floor. Ah, 
 well, I intend to allow mademoiselle the use of this 
 garden until the other apartment is rented, at least." 
 
 " Do you really ? " cried Herminie, overjoyed. " Oh, 
 I thank you so much. What pleasure it will give me 
 to walk about in that pretty garden ! " 
 
 But M. Bouffard had already fled, as if his natural 
 modesty forbade his listening to the protestations of 
 gratitude such a generous offer must inspire. 
 
 " One has no idea what it costs such people as that 
 
 278
 
 "'I WILL GO OUT AND THY TO FIND THAT YOUNG 
 COXCOMH.' "
 
 HUMILIATION AND CONSOLATION. 
 
 to be generous and obliging," remarked the hunchback, 
 laughing. 
 
 Then becoming serious again, he said : " My dear child, 
 what I have just seen and heard gives me such a clear 
 understanding of the nobility of your heart and the 
 firmness of your character, that I realise the futility of 
 any renewed efforts in relation to the matter that 
 brought me here. If I am mistaken, if you are not 
 Madame de Beaumesnil's daughter, you will naturally 
 persist in your denial; if, on the contrary, I have 
 divined the truth, you will still persist in denying it, 
 actuated, I am sure, by some secret but honourable 
 motive. I shall insist no further. One word more : I 
 have been deeply touched by the feeling that prompted 
 you to defend Madame de Beaumesnil's memory against 
 suspicions which may be entirely without foundation. 
 If you were not so proud, I should tell you that your 
 disinterestedness is all the more noble from the fact 
 that your situation is so precarious ; and, by the way, 
 let me say right here that, though M. Bouffard has 
 deprived me of the pleasure of being of service to you 
 this time, I want you to promise me, my dear child, 
 that in future you will apply only to me." 
 
 " And to whom else could I apply without humiliation, 
 M. le marquis ? " 
 
 "Thank you, my dear child, but no more, M. le 
 marquis, I beg. In our recent grave conversation I had 
 no time to protest against this ceremonious appellation ; 
 but now we are old friends, no more M. le marquis, I 
 beseech you. That is agreed, is it not?" asked the 
 hunchback, cordially offering his hand to the young 
 girl, who pressed it gratefully as she exclaimed : 
 
 " Ah, monsieur, such kindness and such generous con- 
 fidence more than consoles me for the humiliation I 
 suffered in your presence." 
 
 " Dismiss that from your mind entirely, my dear 
 child. The insult you received only proves that the 
 
 279
 
 PRIDE. 
 
 compromise that mother's memory, the young girl had 
 gained M. de Maillefort's warm friendship. 
 
 But the payment made to M. Bouffard by a stranger 
 was a terrible blow to Herminie's pride. 
 
 "I must seem despicable, indeed, in the eyes of a 
 person who dared to take such a liberty as that," the 
 proud girl was saying to herself just as there came 
 a timid ring at the door. 
 
 Herminie opened it to find herself confronted by M. 
 Bouffard and a stranger. 
 
 This stranger was Gerald de Senneterre. 
 
 282
 
 CHAPTER XXX. 
 
 AN APOLOGY ACCEPTED. 
 
 ON seeing the Due de Senneterre, who was an entire 
 stranger to her, Herminie coloured with surprise, and 
 said to M. Bouffard, with much embarrassment : 
 
 " I did not expect to have the pleasure of seeing you 
 again so soon, monsieur." 
 
 " No more did I, mademoiselle. No more did I ! It 
 was this gentleman who forced me to return." 
 
 " But I do not know the gentleman," Herminie an- 
 swered, more and more astonished. 
 
 " No ; I have not the honour of being known to you, 
 mademoiselle," said Gerald, with an expression of the 
 deepest anxiety on his handsome features, " and yet, I 
 have come to ask a favour of you. I beseech you not to 
 refuse it." 
 
 Gerald's handsome face showed so much frankness, 
 his emotion seemed so sincere, his voice was so earnest, 
 his manner so respectful, and his appearance so elegant 
 and distingu, that it never once occurred to Herminie 
 that this could be the stranger she was so bitterly 
 reproaching. 
 
 Besides, reassured by M. Bouffard's presence, and 
 unable to imagine what favour the stranger could have 
 come to ask, the duchess, turning to her landlord, said, 
 timidly : 
 
 " Will you have the goodness to come in, monsieur ? " 
 
 And as she spoke, she led the way into her own room. 
 
 The young duke had never seen a woman who com- 
 pared with Herminie in beauty, and this beauty alike of 
 
 283
 
 PRIDE. 
 
 compromise that mother's memory, the young girl had 
 gained M. de Maillefort's warm friendship. 
 
 But the payment made to M. Bouffard by a stranger 
 was a terrible blow to Herminie's pride. 
 
 "I must seem despicable, indeed, in the eyes of a 
 person who dared to take such a liberty as that," the 
 proud girl was saying to herself just as there came 
 a timid ring at the door. 
 
 Herminie opened it to find herself confronted by M. 
 Bouffard and a stranger. 
 
 This stranger was Gerald de Senneterre. 
 
 282
 
 CHAPTER XXX. 
 
 AN APOLOGY ACCEPTED. 
 
 ON seeing the Due de Senneterre, who was an entire 
 stranger to her, Herminie coloured with surprise, and 
 said to M. Bouffard, with much embarrassment : 
 
 " I did not expect to have the pleasure of seeing you 
 again so soon, monsieur." 
 
 " No more did I, mademoiselle. No more did I ! It 
 was this gentleman who forced me to return." 
 
 " But I do not know the gentleman," Herminie an- 
 swered, more and more astonished. 
 
 " No ; I have not the honour of being known to you, 
 mademoiselle," said Gerald, with an expression of the 
 deepest anxiety on his handsome features, " and yet, I 
 have come to ask a favour of you. I beseech you not to 
 refuse it." 
 
 Gerald's handsome face showed so much frankness, 
 his emotion seemed so sincere, his voice was so earnest, 
 his manner so respectful, and his appearance so elegant 
 and distingul;, that it never once occurred to Herminie 
 that this could be the stranger she was so bitterly 
 reproaching. 
 
 Besides, reassured by M. Bouffard's presence, and 
 unable to imagine what favour the stranger could have 
 come to ask, the duchess, turning to her landlord, said, 
 timidly : 
 
 " Will you have the goodness to come in, monsieur ? " 
 
 And as she spoke, she led the way into her own room. 
 
 The young duke had never seen a woman who com- 
 pared with Herminie in beauty, and this beauty alike of 
 
 283
 
 PRIDE. 
 
 form and feature was greatly enhanced by the dignified 
 modesty of her demeanour. 
 
 But when Gerald followed the girl into her room and 
 saw the countless indications of refined habits and ex- 
 quisite taste everywhere apparent, he felt more and more 
 confused, and in his profound embarrassment he could 
 not utter a word. 
 
 Amazed at the stranger's silence, Herminie turned 
 inquiringly to M. Bouffard, who said : 
 
 " It will be best to begin at the beginning, my dear 
 young lady. I will explain why this gentleman " 
 
 " Allow me," said Gerald, interrupting M. Bouffard. 
 Then, turning to Herminie, he continued, with a charm- 
 ing mixture of frankness and deference : 
 
 " I may as well confess that it is not a favour I have 
 come to ask, but forgiveness." 
 
 " Of me, monsieur and why ? " asked Herminie, 
 ingenuously. 
 
 "My dear mademoiselle," said M. Bouffard, with a 
 meaning gesture, " this is the young man who paid me 
 that money, you know. I met him just now, and 
 
 " It was you, monsieur ? " cried Herminie, superb in 
 her indignation. And looking Gerald full in the face, 
 she repeated, witheringly : 
 
 " It was you ? " 
 
 " Yes, mademoiselle, but listen, I beg of you." 
 
 " Enough, monsieur, enough ! " said Herminie. " Such 
 audacity seems inconceivable ! You have at least the 
 courage to insult, monsieur," added Herminie, with 
 crushing contempt. 
 
 "But, mademoiselle, do not suppose for one mo- 
 ment " pleaded Gerald. 
 
 " Monsieur," said the young girl, again interrupting 
 him, but in a voice that trembled violently, for she 
 could feel tears of grief and humiliation rising to her 
 eyes, " I can only beg that you will leave my house. 
 I am a woman, and I am alone." 
 
 284
 
 AN APOLOGY ACCEPTED. 
 
 These last words were uttered in such tones of intense 
 sadness that Gerald was moved to tears in spite of him- 
 self, and when the young girl raised her head after a 
 violent effort to conquer her emotion, she saw two big 
 tears gleaming in the eyes of the stranger, who, after 
 bowing low without a word, started towards the door. 
 
 But M. Bouffard, seizing Gerald by the arm, ex- 
 claimed : 
 
 " Why, stop a second ! You surely are not going 
 like that ! " 
 
 And we must admit that M. Bouffard added men- 
 tally : 
 
 " And my little apartment on the third floor, am I to 
 lose my chance of renting that ? " 
 
 " Monsieur," interposed Herminie, seeing her landlord 
 attempt to detain the offender ; " monsieur, I must 
 insist " 
 
 " But, my dear young lady, you certainly ought to 
 know why I brought this young man here," exclaimed 
 M. Bouffard. " You surely cannot suppose that it was 
 with the intention of annoying you. The fact is, I met 
 the young fellow near the barriere, and as soon as I laid 
 eyes on him, I called out, ' Ah, my generous youth, a 
 nice scrape you got me into with your yellow boys. 
 Here they are ; take them, and don't let me see any 
 more of them, if you please.' And then I told him how 
 you had felt about the service he had rendered you, and 
 how you had cried and taken on, until monsieur turned 
 red, and then pale, and then green, and finally said to 
 me, apparently quite miserable about what I had told 
 him, * Ah, monsieur, I have unintentionally insulted a 
 person whose unprotected position renders her all the 
 more worthy of respect. I owe her an apology, and I 
 will make it in your presence, as you were my involun- 
 tary accomplice. Come, monsieur, come.' Upon my 
 word of honour, mademoiselle, these were the very 
 words the young man said to me, and somehow what 
 
 285
 
 PRIDE. 
 
 he said touched me. I can't imagine what is the matter 
 with me to-day, I'm as chicken-hearted as a woman. 
 I thought he was right to want to come and apologise 
 to you, so I brought him along, or, rather, he brought 
 me along, for he took me by the arm and dragged me 
 along at the double-quick. In fact, I never walked so 
 fast in my life." 
 
 The sincerity of the words was unmistakable, and as 
 Herminie was endowed with a keen sense of justice, and 
 she had been not a little touched by the tears she had 
 seen glittering in Gerald's eyes, she said to the stranger, 
 in a tone which indicated a strong desire to end this 
 painful scene as soon as possible : 
 
 " In that case, monsieur, the offence of which I com- 
 plain was unintentional, and it was not to aggravate the 
 offence that you returned here. I believe this, monsieur, 
 and this should satisfy you, I think." 
 
 " If you desire it, mademoiselle, I will leave at once 
 without saying a word in my own defence." 
 
 " Do have a little pity, my dear young lady," pleaded 
 M. Bouffard. "You have allowed me to speak, now 
 listen to the gentleman." 
 
 Whereupon the Due de Senneterre, taking Herminie's 
 silence for an assent, said : 
 
 " Mademoiselle, this is the truth, the whole truth, and 
 nothing but the truth. I was passing along the street, 
 looking for lodgings, and naturally paused in front of 
 the house as I saw several notices of rooms to rent. I 
 asked permission to inspect the apartments, and going 
 on in advance of the portress, who promised to join me 
 in a minute, I began to ascend the stairs. As I reached 
 the first landing my attention was attracted by a timid, 
 supplicating voice. This voice was yours, mademoiselle, 
 and you were pleading with this gentleman. I paused 
 involuntarily, not from any idle curiosity, but because I 
 could not listen to such a touching appeal unmoved. So 
 I heard all, and my only thought was that a woman was 
 
 286
 
 AN APOLOGY ACCEPTED. 
 
 in trouble, and that I could save her, without her even 
 knowing it, so seeing a man come out of your room a 
 few minutes afterwards I called to him." 
 
 "Yes," continued M. Bouffard, "and said to me angrily, 
 * Here is money, pay yourself, and cease to torment a 
 woman, who is only too unhappy already.' If I did not 
 tell you this at first, my dear young lady, it was only 
 because I wanted to have my little joke, and afterwards 
 I was frightened to see how angry you were." 
 
 " That is my offence, mademoiselle," continued Gerald. 
 " I yielded to a thoughtless, though not ungenerous im- 
 pulse, whose deplorable consequences I did not foresee. 
 I unfortunately forgot that the sacred right to render 
 certain services belongs only to tried and trusted friends. 
 I forgot, too, that, however spontaneous and disinterested 
 commiseration may be, it may nevertheless be a cruel 
 insult under some circumstances. When this gentleman 
 told me of your just indignation, mademoiselle, and told 
 me the wrong I had unwittingly done you, I felt it to 
 be my duty as an honourable man to come and beg your 
 pardon, and tell you the simple truth. I had never had 
 the honour of seeing you ; I did not even know your 
 name, and I shall probably never see you again, but I 
 wish that I could convince you that I had not the slight- 
 est intention of insulting you, and that I never realised 
 the gravity of my offence until now." 
 
 Gerald was speaking the truth, and his sincerity, 
 emotion, and tact convinced Herminie that such, indeed, 
 was the case. 
 
 Another and entirely different idea also influenced the 
 ingenuous girl, or, rather, an apparently trivial but to 
 her highly significant circumstance, viz., that the stranger 
 was seeking a modest lodging. This convinced her that 
 he was not rich, and that the generosity he had mani- 
 fested towards her must necessarily have been at the 
 cost of no little personal sacrifice. 
 
 These considerations, aided very considerably, per- 
 287
 
 PRIDE. 
 
 haps, and why not, may we ask ? by the influence 
 almost always exerted by a handsome, frank, and expres- 
 sive face, appeased Herminie's wrath wonderfully. In 
 fact, far from feeling the slightest indignation against 
 Gerald now, she was really touched by the generous 
 impulse to which he had yielded, and which he had just 
 explained with such perfect frankness, and too honest 
 and ingenuous herself to conceal her thoughts, she said 
 to Gerald, with charming simplicity : 
 
 " My embarrassment is very great, monsieur, for I 
 must reproach myself for having entirely misinterpreted 
 an act, the kindness of which I now appreciate. I can 
 only beg you to forget the intemperance of my first 
 remarks." 
 
 " Permit me to say, on the contrary, that I shall never 
 forget them, mademoiselle," replied Gerald, " for they will 
 always remind me that there is one attribute which 
 should be respected above all others in a woman, her 
 dignity." 
 
 And bowing deferentially to Herminie, Gerald turned 
 to leave the room. 
 
 M. Bouffard had listened to the latter part of this 
 conversation in open-mouthed wonder, it being just 
 about as intelligible to him as if it had been carried on 
 in Greek; but now checking Gerald, who had started 
 towards the door, the ex-grocer, evidently with the idea 
 that he was achieving a master-stroke, exclaimed : 
 
 " One moment, my good sir, one moment. As made- 
 moiselle is no longer offended with you, there is no rea- 
 son why you shouldn't take those nice little rooms on 
 the third floor I was telling you about, a small hall, 
 and two cozy rooms ; one that will answer for a sitting- 
 room, and the other for a bedroom just the thing for 
 a bachelor." 
 
 On hearing this proposal, Herminie became very un- 
 easy, for it would have been decidedly unpleasant to see 
 Gerald installed in the same house. 
 
 288
 
 AN APOLOGY ACCEPTED. 
 
 But the young duke promptly replied : 
 
 " I have already told you that the rooms would not 
 suit me, my dear sir." 
 
 " Yes, because this young lady was offended with you, 
 and it is very unpleasant to be on bad terms with one's 
 fellow tenants. But now this young lady has forgiven 
 you, there is no reason you shouldn't take those nice 
 rooms." 
 
 " I am even less inclined to take them now," replied 
 Gerald, venturing a glance at Herminie. 
 
 The young girl did not raise her eyes, but she blushed 
 slightly, for she appreciated the delicacy of Gerald's 
 refusal. 
 
 "What!" exclaimed M. Bouffard, profoundly aston- 
 ished ; " now you have made up with mademoiselle, you 
 are less inclined to take them than ever ? Is it possible 
 that you have noticed any objections to my house since 
 you came back ? " 
 
 "It is not precisely that which deprives me of the 
 pleasure of taking up my abode under your roof, my dear 
 sir, but " 
 
 " Come, I'll let you have those rooms for two hundred 
 and fifty francs, with a small cellar thrown in, if you 
 want it." 
 
 " Impossible, my dear sir, impossible." 
 
 " Call it two hundred and forty, then, and say no more 
 about it." 
 
 " I am obliged to call your attention to the fact that 
 mademoiselle's room is not the place for this haggling, 
 monsieur." 
 
 Then turning to Herminie and bowing profoundly, the 
 young duke said : 
 
 " Believe me, mademoiselle, I shall always retain a 
 most delightful recollection of this first and last inter- 
 view." 
 
 The girl bowed graciously, but without raising her 
 eyes, and Gerald departed, resolutely pursued by M. 
 
 289
 
 PRIDE. 
 
 Bouffard, who seemed determined not to lose his 
 prey. 
 
 But Gerald remained obdurate in spite of the land- 
 lord's tempting offers. The ex-grocer persisted in his 
 efforts, so Gerald, to get rid of him, and perhaps also to 
 have an opportunity to think over his meeting with 
 Herminie, quickened his pace and told the landlord that 
 he intended to extend his walk as far as the fortifica- 
 tions. So he started off, leaving M. Bouffard in despair 
 at having missed this fine opportunity to rent those 
 charming third story rooms. 
 
 A road leading to the fortifications intersected the 
 Rue de Monceau near this point. Gerald took it, and 
 then strolled slowly along, absorbed in a profound 
 reverie. 
 
 Herminie's rare beauty, as well as her dignity and re- 
 finement of manner had made a deep impression on the 
 young duke, and the more he said to himself that he had, 
 of course, seen this charming creature for the first and 
 last time, the more he rebelled against the thought. 
 
 Besides, upon analysing or rather comparing his former 
 fancies with his sudden but deep interest in Herminie, 
 and discovering nothing like it in the past, Gerald asked 
 himself, with no little uneasiness : 
 
 " What if I should be really caught this time ? " 
 
 He had just asked himself this question when he was 
 met by an officer of engineers wearing an army redingote 
 without epaulettes, and a big straw hat. 
 
 " Why, it's Senneterre ! " exclaimed this officer. 
 
 The young duke looked up and recognised Captain 
 Comtois, one of his former comrades in the African 
 army. 
 
 " How are you, my dear Comtois?" he exclaimed, cor- 
 dially offering his hand. " I did not expect to see you 
 here, though you are quite in your native element, I 
 must admit," he added, with a glance at the fortifica- 
 tions. 
 
 290
 
 AN APOLOGY ACCEPTED. 
 
 " Yes, my dear fellow, we're making the earth fly and 
 the work is advancing rapidly. I am general-in-chief of 
 that army of labourers and masons you see over there. 
 In Africa, we tore down walls ; here, we build them up. 
 Did you come over to look at the works ? If you did, 
 I'll show you about." 
 
 "A thousand thanks for your kind offer, my dear 
 Comtois, I'll remind you of your promise some day 
 soon." 
 
 " Very well, come and take breakfast with me any- 
 morning you like. I am living in camp over there. It. 
 will remind you of old times; you'll think you're in a 
 Bedouin camp again. Oh, by the way, you remember 
 Clarville, that young lieutenant of spahis who resigned 
 in order that he might have the satisfaction of fighting 
 Colonel Duval a year afterwards ? " 
 
 " Clarville ? Yes, a brave fellow I remember him 
 perfectly." 
 
 " Well, after he resigned, he had very little to live on, 
 and the failure of some bank swept away the little that 
 he had. In fact, if I hadn't happened to come across 
 him, I believe he would have starved. Fortunately, I 
 was able to take him on as overseer, and that pays him 
 a little something." 
 
 " Poor fellow ! it was a lucky thing for him, though." 
 
 " I should think so, particularly as he is married, a 
 love-match, that is to say, the girl hadn't a penny, and 
 there are two little children in the bargain, so you can 
 judge of his situation. He manages to make both ends 
 meet, but that is all. I have been to see him. He lives 
 in a side street at the end of the Rue de Monceau." 
 
 " At the end of the Rue de Monceau ? " asked Gerald, 
 hastily. " I, too, must go and see him." 
 
 " He would be delighted, my dear Senneterre, for 
 when misfortunes come, one's visitors are rare." 
 
 " What is the number of the house ? " 
 
 " It is the only house on the street, a little bit of a 
 291
 
 PRIDE. 
 
 house. The devil ! There's the second bell. I must 
 leave you, my dear Senneterre, and get my men together. 
 Good-bye ; don't forget your promise." 
 
 " No, certainly not." 
 
 " And I may tell Clarville you're coming to see him ? " 
 
 " Yes, day after to-morrow." 
 
 " It will please him very much ; good-bye." 
 
 " Good-bye, my dear fellow." 
 
 " Don't forget Clarville's address." 
 
 " I am not very likely to," thought Gerald. " The 
 street where he lives must skirt the end of the garden 
 of the house where I just saw that adorable girl." 
 
 So, while the captain rushed off towards a group of 
 wooden shanties in the distance, Gerald strolled along, a 
 prey to a sort of feverish agitation. 
 
 The sun was low in the horizon when he awoke from 
 his reverie. 
 
 " I don't know what will come of all this," he said 
 to himself, " but this time, and it is the only time, I 
 feel that I'm gone, absolutely gone, this time ! " 
 
 292
 
 CHAPTER XXXI. 
 
 THE PRIVATE STAIRWAY. 
 
 IN spite of the deep and novel impression made upon 
 Gerald by his interview with Herminie, he had met 
 Ernestine de Beaumesnil; for, in accordance with the 
 plans of the Rochaigues, the richest heiress in France 
 had directly or indirectly made the acquaintance of the 
 three aspirants for her hand. 
 
 A month had passed since these different presenta- 
 tions, and since the first interview between Gerald and 
 Herminie, an interview whose consequences will become 
 apparent later on. 
 
 The clock had just struck eleven, and Mile, de Beau- 
 mesnil was sitting alone in her chamber, deeply absorbed 
 in thought. Her girlish face had lost none of its sweet- 
 ness and candour, though a rather sarcastic, and some- 
 times almost mournful, smile occasionally flitted across 
 her lips, and one sometimes noticed a resolute expression, 
 which contrasted strangely with the almost childish 
 ingenuousness of her features. 
 
 Suddenly Mile, de Beaumesnil rose, walked to the 
 mantel, and placed her hand on the bell rope ; then she 
 paused a moment as if undecided in relation to some 
 important matter. 
 
 At last, as if her mind was fully made up, she rang, 
 and almost immediately Madame Laine", her governess, 
 entered, with an eager, almost obsequious, air. 
 
 " Does mademoiselle desire anything ? " she asked. 
 
 " Sit down, my dear Lafne\" 
 293
 
 PRIDE. 
 
 " Mademoiselle is too kind." 
 
 " Sit down, I beg. There is something I wish to say 
 to you." 
 
 " Only to obey mademoiselle," said the governess, 
 much surprised at this familiarity on the part of her 
 young mistress, who had always treated her heretofore 
 with marked reserve. 
 
 " My dear Laine*," said Mile, de Beaumesnil, in an 
 almost affectionate tone, " you have often told me that I 
 could count upon your attachment." 
 
 " Oh, yes, mademoiselle." 
 
 " And upon your devotion as well ? " 
 
 " In life and in death, mademoiselle." 
 
 " And also upon your discretion ? " 
 
 " I only ask that mademoiselle will put me to the 
 test, then she can judge," replied the governess, more 
 and more delighted with this truly promising beginning. 
 
 " Very well, I am about to put you to the test." 
 
 " How rejoiced I am at such a mark of confidence on 
 mademoiselle's part ! " 
 
 "Yes, a mark of great confidence, of which I hope 
 you will be found deserving." 
 
 " I swear to mademoiselle that " 
 
 "Oh, 1 believe you," said Ernestine, interrupting 
 these protestations on the part of her governess ; " but 
 tell me, nearly a week ago you asked me to give you 
 to-morrow evening, in order that you might attend a 
 small reunion which takes place every Sunday night at 
 the house of one of your friends named What is the 
 name ? I have forgotten it." 
 
 " Her name is Madame Herbaut, mademoiselle. This 
 friend of mine has two daughters, and every Sunday she 
 invites a few people of their age to her house. I think 
 I said as much to mademoiselle when I asked her per- 
 mission to attend the entertainment." 
 
 " And who are these young people ? " 
 
 "The young girls who visit Madame Herbaut are 
 
 294
 
 THE PRIVATE STAIRWAY. 
 
 mostly shop-girls, or young women who give music and 
 drawing lessons. There are also several bookkeepers 
 among them. As for the men, they are, for the most 
 part, shop-keepers, or musicians, or lawyer's clerks, 
 all very respectable young men, I assure you, for Madame 
 Herbaut is very particular about the people she invites, 
 and very naturally, as she has daughters to marry off, 
 and between you and me, mademoiselle, it is to 
 establish them in life that she gives these little 
 reunions." 
 
 " My dear Laine"," said Ernestine, as if it were the 
 most natural thing in the world, " I want to attend one 
 of these reunions at Madame Herbauf s." 
 
 " Mademoiselle ! " exclaimed the governess, thinking 
 her ears must have deceived her, " what did mademoiselle 
 say?" 
 
 " I said I wished to attend one of Madame Herbaut's 
 entertainments, to-morrow evening, for instance." 
 
 " Good heavens ! Is mademoiselle really in earnest ? " 
 
 " Decidedly so." 
 
 " What, you, mademoiselle, go to the house of such 
 a very humble person ! Impossible ! Mademoiselle 
 cannot even be thinking of such a thing?" 
 
 " Impossible, and why, my good Laine* ? " 
 
 " Why, the baron and baroness would never give their 
 consent." 
 
 " So I do not intend to ask it." 
 
 " But mademoiselle would not go to Madame Her- 
 baut's without consulting the baron ! " cried the 
 governess. 
 
 " Certainly." 
 
 " But how could you, mademoiselle ? " 
 
 " My dear Laine", you told me a minute ago that I could 
 count upon you." 
 
 " And I repeat it, mademoiselle." 
 
 " Very well, then, you must take me to Madame 
 Herbaut's to-morrow evening." 
 
 295
 
 PRIDE. 
 
 " I, mademoiselle ? Really, I don't know whether I 
 am awake or only dreaming." 
 
 "You are not dreaming, so to-morrow evening you 
 will introduce me to Madame Herbaut as one of your 
 relatives, an orphan." 
 
 " One of my relatives ! Great Heavens ! I should 
 never dare ! " 
 
 " Let me finish, please. You will introduce me, I say, 
 as one of your relatives, recently arrived from the coun- 
 try, who earns her living as as an embroiderer, for 
 example. But, remember this, if you are guilty of the 
 slightest indiscretion or blunder, and so cause any one 
 to suspect that I am not what I wish to appear, that is to 
 say, an orphan who supports herself by her own exertions, 
 you will not remain another minute in my service, while 
 if you follow my instructions carefully you may expect 
 anything from me." 
 
 " Really, mademoiselle, you surprised me so I cannot 
 seem to get over it. But why does mademoiselle wish 
 me to introduce her to Madame Herbaut as a relative of 
 mine and an orphan ? " 
 
 "Don't ask me any more questions, Laine". Can I 
 depend upon you, yes or no ? " 
 
 " Yes, mademoiselle, in life and in death. But " 
 
 " No ' buts,' if you please, and now one word more, 
 and the last. You know, of course," added the young 
 girl, with a strangely bitter smile, " that I am the richest 
 heiress in France." 
 
 " Certainly, mademoiselle, everybody knows that, and 
 says that there is no other fortune in the country nearly 
 as large as mademoiselle's." 
 
 " Ah, well, if you will do what I ask, and, above all, 
 if you will be discreet, thoroughly discreet, understand, 
 I insist upon that, for it is absolutely necessary that 
 Madame Herbaut should believe me what I mean to 
 appear, a poor orphan supporting herself by her own 
 exertions, in short, if, thanks to your cleverness and 
 
 296
 
 THE PRIVATE STAIRWAY. 
 
 discretion, everything passes off as I wish, you shall 
 see how the richest heiress in France pays a debt of 
 gratitude." 
 
 " What you say pains me deeply, mademoiselle," 
 exclaimed the governess, with a gesture of superb dis- 
 interestedness. " Can mademoiselle suppose that I wish 
 to set a price on my devotion ? " 
 
 " No, but I deem it only right to set a price on my 
 gratitude." 
 
 " Good Heavens ! Mademoiselle, you know very well 
 that if you should become as poor as I am I should be 
 just as devoted to you." 
 
 " I do not doubt that in the least, but until I become 
 poor, do what I ask. Take me to Madame Herbaut's 
 to-morrow evening." 
 
 " But if you will talk the matter over a little you will 
 see how impossible your plan is." 
 
 " And why ? " 
 
 " In the first place, how can you arrange to have the 
 disposal of your evening? The baron and baroness and 
 Mile. Helena never leave you." 
 
 " Oh, I can manage that very easily. To-morrow 
 morning I will say that I passed a very uncomfortable 
 night, and that I am not feeling at all well. I will 
 remain in my room all day, and to-morrow evening you 
 will go to the family and tell them that I am asleep and 
 don't wish to be disturbed by anybody. My guardian 
 and his family respect my slightest wish so abjectly that 
 they will not dare to disturb my slumbers," added Mile, 
 de Beaumesnil, with mingled sadness and disdain. 
 
 " Oh, mademoiselle is perfectly right about that. No 
 one would dare to contradict or oppose mademoiselle 
 in anything. If mademoiselle should tell M. le baron 
 to stand on his head, he would do it without a word." 
 
 "Oh, yes, they are certainly the most considerate of 
 relatives, so full of tenderness and dignity," replied 
 Ernestine, with a rather peculiar expression. "Ah, 
 
 297
 
 PRIDE. 
 
 well, you see, then, that it will be an easy matter for 
 me to secure an evening to myself." 
 
 " Yes, mademoiselle, but how shall we manage to get 
 out of the house ? " 
 
 Get out of the house ? " 
 
 " Yes. I mean without meeting any one on the stair- 
 way, or being seen by the concierge." 
 
 " That is your lookout. I depend upon you to devise 
 a means of doing that." 
 
 " Oh, it is very easy to say devise a means, mademoi- 
 selle, but " 
 
 "I foresaw this difficulty, of course, but I said to 
 myself, ' My dear Lame* is very clever. She will assist 
 me in this. ' ' 
 
 " Heaven knows I would be only too glad to, mademoi- 
 selle, but I really do not see " 
 
 " Put on your thinking-cap. I have never used any 
 but the mam stairway, but are there no servants' stair- 
 ways leading from my apartments ? " 
 
 " Of course, mademoiselle. There are two such stair- 
 cases, but you would run a great risk of meeting the 
 servants if you used either of them; that is," added 
 the governess, thoughtfully, " that is unless you should 
 choose the time that they are at dinner, about eight 
 o'clock, for example." 
 
 " Your idea is an admirable one." 
 
 " Mademoiselle should not rejoice too soon." 
 
 Why ? " 
 
 " Mademoiselle will still have to pass the porter's 
 lodge, and he is a regular Cerberus, for ever on the 
 watch." 
 
 " That is true, we shall have to think of some other way." 
 
 " I am trying, mademoiselle, but it's no easy matter, 
 I assure you." 
 
 " But not impossible, it seems to me." 
 
 " Ah, I have an idea, mademoiselle ! " exclaimed the 
 governess, suddenly, after reflecting a moment. 
 
 298
 
 THE PRIVATE STAIRWAY. 
 
 " Let me hear it." 
 
 " Excuse me, mademoiselle, but I'm not sure that it 
 is at all feasible yet. Let me go and see. I'll be back 
 in a moment." 
 
 And the governess darted out of the room. The 
 orphan was left alone. 
 
 " I was right," she murmured, with an expression of 
 bitter disgust. " This woman has a base and mercenary 
 nature, like so many others, but these very failings will 
 ensure me her submission, and, above all, her discretion." 
 
 In a few minutes the governess returned, radiant. 
 
 " Victory, mademoiselle ! " she exclaimed, rapturously. 
 
 " Explain, if you please." 
 
 " Mademoiselle is aware that her dressing-room opens 
 into my bedroom." 
 
 Yes." 
 
 "And adjoining my chamber there is a large room 
 containing the wardrobes for mademoiselle's dresses." 
 
 "Well?" 
 
 "There is a door in this room which opens upon a 
 narrow staircase to which I never paid any attention 
 before." 
 
 " And where does this staircase lead ? " 
 
 " It leads down to a small door which has been closed 
 up, but which opens, as nearly as I can judge, upon the 
 side street." 
 
 "This door opens upon the street?" cried Mile, de 
 Beaumesnil, quickly. 
 
 " Yes, mademoiselle, and this is not at all surprising. 
 In many of the large houses in this neighbourhood there 
 are small private stairways leading up to the sleeping 
 apartments, because in former times the ladies of the 
 court " 
 
 " The ladies of the court ? " inquired Ernestine, so 
 naively that Madame Lame's eyes fell before the girl's 
 innocent gaze. 
 
 So, fearing that she was going too far, and that she 
 299
 
 PRIDE. 
 
 might imperil her recently acquired intimacy with her 
 pupil, Madame Lain6 said : 
 
 " I don't care to fill mademoiselle's ears with a lot of 
 servants' gossip." 
 
 " And you are right. But if this door which leads 
 into the street is condemned, how shall we open 
 it?" 
 
 " It is bolted and nailed up on the inside but made- 
 moiselle needn't worry. I have all night before me, 
 and to-morrow morning I hope to have a good report to 
 make to mademoiselle." 
 
 " Very well. If you think it necessary, inform your 
 friend, Madame Herbaut, in advance that you will bring 
 a relative with you to-morrow evening." 
 
 " I will do so, though it isn't at all necessary. Made- 
 moiselle, if she accompanies me, will be as cordially 
 received as I am. There is very little ceremony among 
 people of that class." 
 
 "Very well, it is understood, then. But I repeat 
 once more that I shall expect the utmost caution on 
 your part. Your reward depends upon that." 
 
 " Mademoiselle can punish me in any way she pleases 
 if I break my word." 
 
 " I would much rather reward you. See what you can 
 do about that door now, and let me hear early to-morrow 
 morning." 
 
 " But really, mademoiselle, all this is very extraordi- 
 nary ! " 
 
 " What do you mean ? " 
 
 "I refer to mademoiselle's desire to go to Madame 
 Herbaut' s. It seems to me such a strange idea on 
 mademoiselle's part. But I feel no uneasiness," added 
 the governess, with a complacent air. " I know made- 
 moiselle too well to suppose for one moment that she 
 would involve a poor woman like myself in any trouble, 
 and though I do not presume to question mademoiselle, 
 may I not as I, of course, must not speak of this 
 
 300
 
 THE PRIVATE STAIRWAY. 
 
 matter to any one else may I not know why, made- 
 moiselle " 
 
 " Good-night, my dear Laind," said mademoiselle, ris- 
 ing, and thus putting an end to the conversation. " Let 
 me know the results of your researches early to-morrow 
 morning." 
 
 Delighted to have a secret between her pupil and her- 
 self at last, a secret which she regarded as convincing 
 proof of a confidence which would ensure her a modest 
 fortune, at least, Madame Laine" discreetly withdrew, 
 leaving Mile, de Beaumesnil again alone. 
 
 After a few moments of reflection the orphan unlocked 
 her desk, and, opening the journal dedicated to her 
 mother, began to write hurriedly, even impetuously. 
 
 301
 
 CHAPTER XXXII. 
 
 UNBUEDENING THE HEART. 
 
 " THE resolve I have just made, my dear mother," 
 wrote Ernestine, " is a dangerous one ; I fear I did 
 wrong to make it, but to whom can I turn for advice ? 
 
 " To you, my dearest mother, I know, but it was 
 while invoking your aid and protection that this idea 
 occurred to me, and I feel that I must solve, at any cost, 
 the doubts that so torment me. 
 
 " During the last few days many revelations have been 
 made to me, some of such a sad and depressing nature 
 that they seem to have upset me entirely, and it is with 
 great difficulty, even now, that I can compose myself 
 sufficiently to lay my heart bare to you, my kind and 
 tender mother. 
 
 " For some time after my arrival in this house, I could 
 speak only in terms of the highest praise of my guardian 
 and his family, though sometimes in my secret heart I 
 did censure them a little for the inordinate amount of 
 flattery and attention they lavished upon me. 
 
 " This attention and these flatteries have not ceased ; 
 they have rather increased, if that were possible. 
 
 " My mental attributes, my character, and even my 
 slightest word and act are praised in the most exag- 
 gerated way. As for my figure, my bearing, my per- 
 sonal appearance, and my every movement, they are all 
 equally graceful, enchanting, divine, in short, there is 
 not a more attractive person in the world than I am. 
 
 " Saintly Mile. Helena, who was never known to utter 
 an untruth, assures me that I look like a madonna. 
 
 302
 
 UNBURDENING THE HEART. 
 
 " Madame de la Rochaigue says, with what she terms 
 really brutal frankness, that I am endowed with such 
 rare distinction and elegance of manner, as well as so 
 many charms of person, that I am sure to become the 
 most admired woman in Paris some day, in spite of 
 myself. 
 
 " And last, but not least, according to my guardian, a 
 serious-minded and extremely thoughtful man, the beauty 
 of my features and the dignity of my bearing give me 
 a striking resemblance to the beautiful Duchesse de 
 Longueville, so famous under the Fronde. 
 
 " And when one day, in my artlessness, I expressed 
 astonishment at my resembling so many persons at the 
 same time, do you know, my dearest mother, what 
 the answer was ? 
 
 " ' It is very simple. In you, mademoiselle, the most 
 diverse charms are united, so, in you, each person finds 
 the attraction he prefers.' 
 
 " And these flatteries pursue me everywhere. If the 
 hair-dresser comes to arrange my hair, never before in 
 his life did he see such superb tresses. 
 
 " If I am taken to the milliner's, * What is the use of 
 selecting any particular shape ? ' says that lady. ' With 
 a face like mademoiselle's any style is equally charming 
 and becoming.' 
 
 " The dressmaker declares that my figure is so won- 
 derfully elegant that, dressed in a loosely fitting sack, I 
 should drive the ladies most famed for their perfection 
 of form wild with envy. 
 
 " It is the same with the shoemaker, who declares that 
 he will have to make a special last for me, never having 
 worked for the possessor of so small a foot as mine. 
 
 " The glovemaker outdoes him even, by declaring that 
 I have the hand of a dwarf. 
 
 " So you see, my dear mother, I may almost consider 
 myself a phenomenon, fit for a museum. 
 
 " Oh, mother, mother, it was not in this way that you 
 303
 
 PRIDE. 
 
 spoke when, taking my face in your two hands, and 
 kissing me on the forehead, you said : 
 
 " * My poor Ernestine, you are not beautiful, or even 
 pretty, but the candour and sweetness of your disposi- 
 tion are so plainly written on your expressive face that 
 I do not regret your lack of beauty.' 
 
 " And these words of praise, the only ones, I believe, 
 that you ever gave me, I believed, and they made me 
 very happy. 
 
 " But alas ! the daughter you so fondly loved, has she 
 remained worthy of you ? I do not know. I am not 
 sure. 
 
 " Then I knew nothing of doubts, suspicion, and mock- 
 ery! And for several days past cruel presentiments 
 have taken such a hold on me that I am as much aston- 
 ished as alarmed. 
 
 "There must be something terribly insidious in the 
 effects of flattery, for to you I must confess all 
 though I have often thought the praises lavished upon 
 me must be exaggerated, I wondered why it should be 
 that so many different people should be so unanimous in 
 praising everything I said and did. 
 
 " Nor is this all. 
 
 " The other day Madame de la Rochaigue took me to 
 a concert. I soon perceived that everybody was looking 
 at me. A number of persons even passed and repassed 
 me several times, to examine me more closely, I suppose, 
 though I was very simply dressed. Even when I come 
 out of church I notice that every one stares at me. I 
 mention the fact, and my guardian and his family say : 
 ' Yes, you are right. Everybody does stare at you. See 
 what a sensation you create everywhere ! ' 
 
 " And, in the face of this evidence, what can I say ? 
 Nothing. 
 
 " I must admit that all this flattery was becoming very 
 pleasant to me. It surprised me less and less, and 
 though it sometimes occurred to me how grossly exag- 
 
 304
 
 UNBURDENING THE HEART. 
 
 gerated it was, I promptly silenced any misgivings on 
 the subject, by saying to myself : 
 
 " * But if this is not true, why is the sensation I cre- 
 ate as my guardian says so general ? ' 
 
 " Alas ! I was soon to learn. 
 
 " This is what occurred : 
 
 " A gentleman of whom I have never dared to speak 
 until now, has called at my guardian's house several 
 times. This gentleman is M. le Marquis de Maillefort. 
 He is deformed ; he has a sardonic air, and he is always 
 uttering the most sarcastic remarks or ironical compli- 
 ments that sting worse than his sarcasms. 
 
 " On account of the antipathy he inspired in me, I usu- 
 ally found some excuse for leaving the drawing-room 
 soon after his arrival, and I was encouraged in this by 
 the persons around me, for they both feared and hated 
 M. de Maillefort, though they always greeted him with 
 pretended affability. 
 
 " Three days ago he was ushered into the room where I 
 happened to be sitting alone with Mile. Helena. To 
 leave the room at once would have been too discourteous, 
 so I remained, hoping to be able to make my escape in 
 a few minutes. 
 
 " This short conversation then ensued between M. de 
 Maillefort and Mile. Helena. Alas ! I have not for- 
 gotten a word of it. 
 
 " ' Ah, good evening, my dear Mile. Helena,' the mar- 
 quis began, with his most sarcastic air. ' I am delighted 
 to find Mile, de Beaumesnil with you. She will derive 
 such benefit from your pious conversation. She must 
 profit so much by your excellent counsels, as well as by 
 those of your worthy brother and your no less excellent 
 sister-in-law ! ' 
 
 " ' We hope so, indeed, M. le marquis, for we feel that we 
 have a sacred duty to fulfil towards Mile, de Beaumesnil.' 
 
 " ' Unquestionably,' replied M. de Maillefort, in more 
 and more sarcastic tones, ' a sacred duty to which you 
 
 305
 
 PRIDE. 
 
 and yours will sedulously devote yourselves. Are you 
 not continually repeating to Mile, de Beaumesnil : 
 " You are the richest heiress in France, and being 
 that, you are necessarily the most accomplished and 
 wonderfully gifted person in the world ? " 
 
 " ' But, monsieur,' exclaimed Mile. Helena, interrupt- 
 ing him, ' what you say ' 
 
 " ' I leave it to Mile, de Beaumesnil herself,' retorted 
 the marquis. ' If she speaks the truth, will she not be 
 obliged to admit that a continual chorus of praise is 
 resounding around her, magnificently sustained by our 
 dear baron, his wife, and you, Mile. Helena, a delight- 
 ful chorus in which you all three sustain your parts with 
 wonderful skill, with touching self-abnegation and sub- 
 lime disinterestedness ? All r61es are alike to you. To- 
 day, as leaders of the choir, you give the keynote to a 
 crowd of Mile, de Beaumesnil's admirers; to-morrow, 
 brilliant soloists, you will improvise hymns of praise 
 which will reveal the extent of your resources, the flexi- 
 bility of your art, and, above all, the adorable sincerity 
 of your noble hearts.' 
 
 " ' I suppose, then, monsieur,' said Mile. Helena, col- 
 ouring, doubtless, with anger, ' I suppose, then, that I 
 am to infer that our dear ward has none of the admir- 
 able traits and personal charms which are so generally 
 conceded to her.' 
 
 " ' Because she is the richest heiress in France,' replied 
 M. de Maillefort, with an ironical bow to me ; ' and in 
 this character Mile, de Beaumesnil has a right to the 
 most outrageous as well as the most insulting flattery, 
 insulting, because it is so manifestly untrue, and dictated 
 solely by baseness and cupidity.' 
 
 " I rose, and left the room, scarcely able to keep back 
 the tears. 
 
 " I cannot forget his words, mother. They are con- 
 tinually ringing in my ears. 
 
 306
 
 UNBURDENING THE HEART. 
 
 " M. de Maillefort's remarks were a revelation to me. 
 My eyes were opened. I understand everything now. 
 
 " The praises of every sort and kind, the attentions 
 and protestations of affection lavished upon me, the sen- 
 sation I always create at entertainments, even the flatter- 
 ing remarks of my tradespeople, are all addressed to the 
 richest heiress in France. 
 
 " Ah, mother, it was not without cause that I wrote 
 you of the strange and unpleasant effect it produced 
 upon me when, the day after my arrival in this house, I 
 was so pompously informed that I was the mistress of a 
 colossal fortune. 
 
 " ' It seems to me,' I said to you then, ' that I am in the 
 situation of a person who possesses a valuable treasure, 
 and fears that it may be stolen from him at any moment/ 
 
 " I understand this feeling now. 
 
 " It was the vague presentiment of this fear and dis- 
 trust which has pursued me so relentlessly since the 
 truth was thus harshly revealed to me. 
 
 " The praise bestowed upon me, the protestations 
 of attachment made to me, are due solely to my 
 wealth. 
 
 " Yes, mother, M. de Maillefort's spiteful remarks have 
 really been productive of a great deal of good, though 
 they did cause me so much pain, for they have enlight- 
 ened me in regard to the incomprehensible but increas- 
 ing dislike my guardian and his family were inspiring 
 in my heart. 
 
 " This revelation at last explains the obsequiousness 
 and servility which surround me on every side. 
 
 " And now, my dearly beloved mother, my confession 
 becomes a painful one, even when made to thee. It 
 may be because this atmosphere of deceit and adulation 
 in which I am living has already contaminated me, or, 
 perhaps, because I shrink in such dismay from the 
 thought that all this praise and all these demonstrations 
 of affection are due solely to my wealth, but I can. 
 
 307
 
 PRIDE. 
 
 scarcely credit so much baseness and deceitfulness, nor 
 can I quite believe that I am so utterly unattractive, or 
 that I am wholly incapable of inspiring any sincere and 
 disinterested affection. 
 
 " And you see, my dearest mother, I no longer know 
 what to think, not only of other people, but of myself. 
 These doubts, this continual suspicion and distrust, are 
 intolerable. I try in vain to devise some means of dis- 
 covering the truth. From whom can I expect an honest 
 reply ? 
 
 " Nor is this all. Several recent events have rendered 
 my situation still more trying. 
 
 " You shall judge of it. 
 
 " M. de Maillefort's sarcastic allusions in regard to 
 the perfections which I must necessarily possess in my 
 character of heiress have doubtless been repeated to 
 my guardian and his wife by Mile. Helena, or else some 
 other event, of which 1 am ignorant, has induced those 
 around me to disclose projects of which I had no pre- 
 vious knowledge or even suspicion, and which have 
 increased my distrust and uneasiness a thousandfold." 
 
 Mademoiselle was here interrupted in her writing by 
 two cautious raps at her door. 
 
 Surprised and almost terrified, as in her preoccupation 
 she had forgotten the subject of her late conversation 
 with her governess, the orphan asked, in trembling tones : 
 
 " Who is it ? " 
 
 " I, mademoiselle," replied Madame Lame's voice. 
 
 " Come in," said Ernestine, remembering now. 
 
 " What is the matter ? " she asked, as her governess 
 entered. 
 
 " I have some good news for mademoiselle. My hands 
 are all bloody, you see, but that doesn't matter." 
 
 " I see," cried Ernestine, greatly alarmed. " What 
 has happened ? How did you hurt yourself so ? Here, 
 take this handkerchief and stanch the blood." 
 
 " Oh, it's but a mere scratch, mademoiselle," replied 
 
 308
 
 UNBURDENING THE HEART. 
 
 the governess, heroically. " In your service, I would 
 brave death itself." 
 
 This exaggeration cooled Mile, de Beaumesnil's com- 
 passion very considerably, and she replied : 
 
 " I believe in your courageous devotion, of course, but 
 pray bind up your hand." 
 
 " If mademoiselle desires it, of course, but this scratch 
 is of no consequence, for the door is open, mademoiselle. 
 I succeeded in prying out the staples of the padlock, and 
 in removing an iron bar that also secured the door, which 
 opens into the street exactly as I supposed." 
 
 " You may be sure that I shall reward you, my dear 
 Laine", for this " 
 
 " Oh, do not speak of rewarding me, I implore you, 
 mademoiselle. Am I not more than paid in the pleasure 
 of serving you? But mademoiselle will excuse me, I 
 hope, for coming back contrary to her orders, but I was 
 so delighted to have succeeded." 
 
 " On the contrary I am very grateful for the zeal you 
 have manifested. So you think we can count upon 
 carrying out our plans to-morrow ? " 
 
 " There isn't the slightest doubt of that, now, made- 
 moiselle." 
 
 " Then have a very simple white dress ready for me 
 to wear to-morrow evening, and as soon as it is dark you 
 and I will go to Madame Herbaut's. And once more 
 let me remind you that I shall expect you to exercise 
 the greatest caution." 
 
 " Mademoiselle need have no anxiety on that account. 
 Has mademoiselle any further orders ? " 
 
 " No, I only desire to thank you again for your zeal." 
 
 " Then I will bid mademoiselle good night." 
 
 " Good night, my dear LaiheV' 
 
 The governess left the room and Mile, de Beaumesnil 
 resumed her writing. 
 
 309
 
 CHAPTER XXXIII. 
 
 THE THEEE RIVALS. 
 
 " IN order to fully understand these recent events, it 
 is necessary to review the past, my dear mother," Mile, 
 de Beaumesnil continued. 
 
 " The day after my arrival at my guardian's house I 
 went to church with Mile. Helena, who during mass 
 called my attention to a young man who was praying 
 fervently before the same altar. 
 
 " This young man I afterwards learned was a M. 
 Celestin de Macreuse. 
 
 " Mile. Helena's attention had been attracted to him, 
 she told me, because, instead of kneeling upon a chair like 
 every one else, he was kneeling upon the marble floor of 
 the church. It must have been for his mother, too, that 
 he was praying, for we afterwards heard him ask the 
 priest who took up the collection in our part of 
 the church for another novena of masses in the same 
 chapel for the repose of his mother's soul. 
 
 " As we were coming out of church, M. de Macreuse 
 offered us the holy water with a bow, for he had pre- 
 ceded us to the font. A moment afterwards, we saw 
 him distributing alms among a number of beggars who 
 had crowded around him, saying in a faltering voice : 
 < The little I can give, I offer you in the name of my 
 mother who is no more. Pray for her.' 
 
 "Just as M. de Macreuse was disappearing in the 
 crowd I perceived M. de Maillefort. Whether he was 
 
 310
 
 THE THREE RIVALS. 
 
 just entering or leaving the church I can not say ; but 
 Mile. Helena, who caught sight of him just as I did, 
 seemed surprised and even disturbed by his presence. 
 
 " On our way home she spoke several times of this M. 
 de Macreuse, who seemed to be so truly devout and chari- 
 table. She did not know him personally, she said, but 
 she could not help feeling a great interest in him because 
 he seemed to possess virtues seldom found in young men 
 of the present day. 
 
 " The next day we went to church again ; and again 
 we saw M. de Macreuse. He was performing his devo- 
 tions in the same chapel, and this time he was so 
 deeply absorbed in prayer that, when mass was over, he 
 remained on his knees with his forehead almost touch- 
 ing the marble pavement, and seemed positively crushed 
 with grief. A moment afterwards he fell backward in a 
 sort of swoon, and had to be carried into the sacristy. 
 
 " ' Unfortunate young man,' whispered Mile. Helena, 
 ' how inconsolable he is ! How deeply he mourns for 
 his mother ! What a noble and tender heart he must 
 have.' 
 
 " I shared this feeling of compassion, for who could 
 better sympathise with the sorrow of this young man 
 whose melancholy face indicated the deepest grief. 
 
 " Just as the door of the sacristy opened to admit the 
 beadles, who had come to M. de Macreuse's assistance, 
 M. de Maillefort, who chanced to be directly in their 
 path, began to smile ironically. 
 
 " Mile. Helena seemed more and more disturbed to see 
 M. de Maillefort at church a second time. 
 
 " ' This imp of Satan must have come to the house of 
 God for some deviltry or other,' she remarked to me. 
 
 " On the afternoon of that same day, Madame de la 
 Rochaigue insisted upon my driving with her and one of 
 her friends, Madame la Duchesse de Senneterre, a lady I 
 had never met before. We went to the Bois. There 
 were a great many people there, and as our carriage was 
 
 311
 
 PRIDE. 
 
 moving along at a snail's pace, Madame de la Rochaigue 
 remarked to her friend : 
 
 " ' Isn't that your son I see on horseback over there, 
 my dear duchess ? ' 
 
 "'Yes, I believe it is Gerald,' replied Madame de 
 Senneterre, turning her lorgnette in the direction indi- 
 cated. 
 
 " ' I hope he will see us, and come and speak to us,' 
 added Madame de Mirecourt, who was also with us. 
 
 " ' Oh, M. de Senneterre will not fail to do that, as 
 the duchess fortunately is with us,' replied Madame de 
 la Rochaigue. * I say fortunately, but that is not exactly 
 the word, as that lady's presence prevents us from saying 
 all we would like to say in M. Gerald's praise.' 
 
 " ' Oh, as for that, I warn you I haven't a bit of ma- 
 ternal modesty,' answered Madame de Senneterre, smil- 
 ing. * I never hear half enough nice things said about 
 my son.' 
 
 "'However exacting you may be, you ought to be 
 very well satisfied on that score, it seems to me, my dear 
 duchess,' replied Madame de Mirecourt. 
 
 "'But speaking of M. de Senneterre, did you ever 
 hear why he enlisted as a common soldier, at the age of 
 eighteen ? ' continued Madame de Mirecourt, addressing 
 Madame de la Rochaigue. 
 
 " ' No,' replied that lady, ' I have heard that, beginning 
 as a common soldier, in spite of his birth, he gained his 
 several promotions, as well as his cross, on the battle- 
 field, at the cost of several wounds ; but I never heard 
 why he enlisted.' 
 
 " ' Madame la duchesse,' said Madame de Mirecourt, 
 turning to Madame de Senneterre, ' is it not true that your 
 son enlisted because he thought it cowardly to hire a 
 man to go and be killed in his stead ? ' 
 
 " ' Yes, that is true,' replied Madame de Senneterre ; 
 ' that is the reason my son gave us, and he carried out 
 his resolution in spite of my tears and entreaties.' 
 
 312
 
 THE THREE RIVALS. 
 
 " ' Superb ! ' exclaimed Madame de la Rochaigue. 
 ' Nobody in the world but M. de Senneterre would ever 
 have made and carried out such a chivalrous resolution 
 as that.' 
 
 " ' It is easy to judge of the generosity of his character 
 from that fact alone,' added Madame de Mirecourt. 
 
 " ' Oh, I can say with just pride that there is no 
 better son in the world than my Gerald,' remarked 
 Madame de Senneterre. 
 
 " ' And when one says that, one says everything/ 
 added Madame de la Rochaigue. 
 
 "I listened in silence to this conversation, naturally 
 sharing in the admiration that M. de Senneterre' s gener- 
 ous act excited in those around me. 
 
 "A few minutes afterwards, a party of young men 
 passed us on horseback. One of them, I noticed, paused 
 on seeing us, wheeled his horse around and came 
 back. 
 
 " This young man proved to be M. de Senneterre. 
 He bowed to his mother ; Madame de la Rochaigue in- 
 troduced him to me. He made a few courteous remarks, 
 and then walked his horse along by the side of our 
 carriage while we drove several times around the race- 
 track. 
 
 " It is needless to say that scarcely a handsome equi- 
 page passed without an interchange of friendly bows 
 between the occupants and M. de Senneterre, who seemed 
 to be a general favourite. 
 
 " During the conversation he had with us, he was very 
 gay and a trifle sarcastic, but not the least spiteful. 
 
 "A short time before he left us, we met a magnifi- 
 cent carriage, drawn by four horses. Its sole occupant 
 was a man to whom many persons bowed with great 
 deference. This man bowed very low to M. de Senne- 
 terre, who, instead of returning the salute, surveyed him 
 with the utmost disdain. 
 
 " ' Why, that was M. du Tilleul that just passed, M. 
 313
 
 PRIDE. 
 
 de Senneterre ! ' exclaimed Madame de la Rochaigue, 
 evidently much surprised. 
 
 " ' Yes, madame.' 
 
 " < He bowed to you.' 
 
 " * True, madame.' 
 
 " ' But you did not return his bow.' 
 
 " ' I no longer bow to M. du Tilleul, madame.' 
 
 " ' But everybody else does.' 
 
 " ' Then they do very wrong, in my opinion.' 
 
 " ' But why, M. de Senneterre ? ' 
 
 " ' You ask me that, with his recent affair with 
 Madame ' 
 
 " Then suddenly checking himself, probably on account 
 of my presence, he continued, addressing Madame de la 
 Rochaigue : 
 
 " ' You have heard about his conduct with a certain 
 marquise ? ' 
 
 " ' Of course.' 
 
 " ' Well, in my opinion, a man who behaves with such 
 cowardice and cruelty is a scoundrel, and I do not bow 
 to a scoundrel.' 
 
 "'Still, he is received everywhere,' remarked Madame 
 de Mirecourt. 
 
 " 'Yes, because he owns the handsomest house in Paris, 
 and everybody wishes to attend his entertainments.' 
 
 " ' Oh, you are entirely too particular, M. Gerald,' said 
 Madame de Mirecourt. 
 
 " ' I too particular ? ' exclaimed M. de Senneterre, 
 laughing. ' What a frightful slander ! I will con- 
 vince you to the contrary. Look at that little green 
 brougham coming this way, and that ' 
 
 " ' Gerald ! ' cried Madame de Senneterre, reminding 
 her son of my presence with a look, for I had involun- 
 tarily turned to glance at the vehicle to which M. de 
 Senneterre had called attention, and which was occu- 
 pied by a young and extremely pretty woman, who 
 seemed to be following the young duke with her eyes. 
 
 314
 
 THE THREE RIVALS. 
 
 " His mother's warning exclamation, and the look she 
 cast at me, made M. de Senneterre bite his lips, but it 
 was with a smile that he replied : 
 
 " ' You are right, mother. It would make angels too 
 unhappy to know that there are such things as demons 
 in the world.' 
 
 " This half apology was indirectly addressed to me, I 
 suppose, for two of the ladies glanced at me, smiling in 
 their turn, and I felt greatly embarrassed. 
 
 " As we were leaving, Madame de Senneterre asked : 
 
 " ' You dine with me to-day, do you not, Gerald ? ' 
 
 " ' No, mother, and I must ask you to pardon me for 
 not having told you that I had made another engagement.' 
 
 " ' That is very unfortunate, for I, too, have made an 
 engagement for you,' replied Madame de Senneterre, 
 smiling. 
 
 " ' All right, mother,' said M. de Senneterre, affec- 
 tionately ; * I will send my friends a brief note of 
 excuse ; then I shall be entirely at your service.' 
 
 " And after having bowed very deferentially to us, M. 
 de Senneterre started his horse off at a gallop. 
 
 " He rides with perfect skill and grace, and on horse- 
 back reminds me not a little of my poor father. 
 
 " Though he had addressed only a very few remarks to 
 me, I feel sure, from what I saw and heard during this 
 interview, that M. de Senneterre must possess a frank, 
 generous, and resolute nature, as well as a profound 
 respect and affection for his mother. The other ladies 
 must have thought so, too, for they did not cease prais- 
 ing him until we separated. 
 
 " The next day and the day following, we again saw 
 M. de Macreuse at church. His grief seemed no less 
 deep, though more calm. Two or three times he hap- 
 pened to glance in our direction, and I could not help 
 being struck by the contrast between his sad, almost 
 timid look and bearing, and M. le Due de Senneterre's 
 dashing ease of manner. 
 
 315
 
 PRIDE. 
 
 " The next day after our visit to the Bois, I accom- 
 panied my guardian to the garden of the Luxembourg, as 
 I had promised. 
 
 " We had visited the conservatories and the magnifi- 
 cent rose gardens, when we met a friend of M. de la 
 Rochaigue. He was introduced to me as the Baron 
 de Ravil or du Ravil, I believe. 
 
 " This gentleman walked along beside us for several 
 minutes, then, drawing out his watch, he remarked to M. 
 de la Rochaigue : 
 
 " ' Pardon me for leaving you so soon, M. le baron, 
 but I am very anxious not to miss this important 
 session.' 
 
 " < What important session ? ' inquired my guardian. 
 
 " Can it be that you haven't heard that M. de Mor- 
 nand speaks to-day ? ' 
 
 " ' Is it possible ? ' 
 
 " ' Certainly ; all Paris will be there, for when M. de 
 Mornand speaks, it is an event.' 
 
 " ' It is indeed. He is a man of wonderful talent, I 
 think, a man who can hardly fail to be minister some 
 day or other. How unfortunate that I did not hear of 
 this before. I am sure, my dear ward, that the session 
 would have interested you very much, in spite of all Ma- 
 dame de la Rochaigue' s nonsensical talk, but if I should 
 take you to the chamber now she would be sure to accuse 
 me of having set a trap for you.' 
 
 " ' Still, if mademoiselle has the slightest desire to 
 attend the session, I am at your service, M. le baron,' 
 said our companion ; ' I expected to meet one of my nieces 
 and her husband here, but they have not come, and prob- 
 ably will not, now. I had procured tickets of admission 
 to the diplomatic gallery for them, and if these tickets 
 would be of any service to you ' 
 
 " What do you say, my dear ward ? ' 
 
 " * I will do whatever you like, monsieur ; but it seems 
 to me a session of the Chamber of Peers might be 
 
 316
 
 THE THREE RIVALS. 
 
 very interesting,' I added, chiefly out of regard for my 
 guardian, I fear. 
 
 " ' Very well, I will accept your offer, then, my dear 
 M. de Ravil,' cried M. de la Rochaigue, * and you are 
 lucky, indeed, my dear child,' he added, turning to 
 me, 'to happen here on a day M. de Mornand 
 speaks.' 
 
 "We hastened towards the palace, and just as we 
 were leaving the quincunxes I saw, some distance off, 
 M. de Maillefort, who" seemed to be following us, a fact 
 that surprised me, and made me rather uneasy. 
 
 " ' Why do I meet this wicked man at every turn ? ' I 
 said to myself. ' Who could have informed him of our 
 plans ? ' 
 
 " The diplomatic gallery, where we had seats, was filled 
 with elegantly dressed ladies. I occupied a seat on the 
 upper row of benches between my guardian and M. de 
 Ravil. 
 
 " A gentleman near us, having been heard to remark 
 that some noted orator he did not refer to M. de Mor- 
 nand was also to speak during the session, M. de 
 Ravil replied that there was no other orator who could 
 compare with M. de Mornand, and that this crowd had 
 come to hear him. He ascended the tribune almost 
 immediately, and there was a profound silence. 
 
 " I was incapable of criticising or even of entirely com- 
 prehending M. de Mornand's discourse. It related to sub- 
 jects with which I was totally unacquainted, but I was 
 deeply impressed by the conclusion of his speech, in 
 which he spoke with the warmest sympathy of the 
 unhappy lot of fishermen's families awaiting in sicken- 
 ing suspense upon the beach the return of a beloved 
 father, son, or husband, while the tempest was raging 
 wildly around them. 
 
 " It so happened that, as M. de Mornand uttered these 
 touching words, he turned towards our tribune, and his 
 strong face seemed to me filled with a profound com- 
 
 317
 
 PRIDE. 
 
 passion for the unfortunate creatures whose cause he 
 had espoused. 
 
 " ' Wonderful ! How very touching ! ' whispered M. de 
 Ravil, wiping his eyes, for he, too, seemed deeply affected. 
 
 " ' M. de Mornand is sublime ! ' exclaimed my guard- 
 ian. ' There is little doubt that his speech will greatly 
 ameliorate the lot of thousands of these unfortunates.' 
 
 " Prolonged applause followed the conclusion of M. de 
 Mornand's speech. He was about to leave the tribune 
 when another member of the Chamber, a man with a 
 malevolent, sarcastic face, rose in his seat, and said : 
 
 " ' I ask the permission of the Chamber to ask M. de 
 Mornand a simple question before he descends from the 
 tribune and before his sudden and generous compassion 
 for our brave fishermen shall consequently have evapo- 
 rated.' 
 
 " ' If you will take my advice, we will leave at once to 
 escape the crowd,' M. de Ravil remarked to my guardian. 
 ' M. de Mornand having finished, everybody will want to 
 go, for there will be nothing else of interest.' 
 
 " M. de la Rochaigue offered me his arm, but just as we 
 were leaving the hall we heard shouts of laughter, and 
 renewed applause. 
 
 " * I know what that means,' remarked M. de Ravil. 
 ' M. de Mornand has crushed, by his sarcasm, the impru- 
 dent member who had the audacity to question any of his 
 statements, for when he wishes to be, M. de Mornand is 
 as witty as the devil.' 
 
 " My guardian having suggested that we extend our 
 walk to the observatory, I consented, and M. de Ravil 
 accompanied us. 
 
 " ' M. le baron,' he remarked to my guardian ; ' did 
 you notice Madame de Bretigny, who left the hall just 
 as* we did ? ' 
 
 " ' The wife of the minister ? No, I did not.' 
 
 " ' I am sorry, monsieur, for you would have seen one 
 of the noblest women that ever lived. You have no idea 
 
 318
 
 THE THREE RIVALS. 
 
 what wonderfully good use she makes of her position as 
 a minister's wife, or of the vast amount of good she does, 
 the wrongs she repairs, and the assistance she gives to 
 the worthy.' 
 
 " ' I am not surprised to hear it,' replied my guardian. 
 ' In a position like that of Madame de Bretigny, one can 
 do any amount of good, for ' 
 
 " But interrupting himself suddenly, he turned to M. de 
 Ravil and exclaimed, eagerly : 
 
 " ' Say, isn't that he over there in that secluded path, 
 walking along, looking at the flowers ? ' 
 
 " ' To whom do you refer ? ' 
 
 " ' Why, to M. de Mornand. Look ! ' 
 
 " ' You're right, it is he ! ' replied M. de Ravil. ' He 
 has forgotten his triumph and is finding a welcome 
 relief from the onerous cares of state in gazing at the 
 flowers. This does not surprise me, however, for, with 
 all his talent and his political genius, he is one of the 
 best and most simple-hearted of men, and his tastes 
 prove it. After his brilliant success, what does he seek ? 
 Solitude and flowers.' 
 
 " ' M. de Ravil, you know M. de Mornand, do you not ? ' 
 inquired my guardian. 
 
 " ' Slightly. I meet him occasionally in society.' 
 
 " t But you know him well enough to speak to him, do 
 you not ? ' 
 
 " ' Certainly/ 
 
 " ' Then go and congratulate him on the success he just 
 achieved. We will follow you so as to get a closer look 
 at this great man. What do you say to my scheme, my 
 dear ward ? ' 
 
 " ' I will accompany you, monsieur. One always likes 
 to see distinguished men like M. de Mornand.' 
 
 " Changing our course, we soon reached the path where 
 M. de Mornand was walking. He replied to M. de 
 RaviPs and my guardian's compliments with quite as 
 much modesty as simplicity of manner, and addressed 
 
 319
 
 PRIDE. 
 
 a few kindly remarks to me, after which we left him to 
 continue his lonely promenade. 
 
 ' When one thinks that this simple-mannered man 
 will govern France in less than six months ! ' exclaimed 
 M. de Ravil. 
 
 " ' Say admirably-mannered, my dear M. de Ravil,' 
 corrected my guardian. ' M. de Mornand has quite the 
 manner of a grand seigneur. He is both affable and 
 dignified. He is not one of those silly popinjays who 
 think only of the tie of their cravats and the cut of their 
 hair.' 
 
 " ' Creatures of that type are never likely to govern 
 France,' answered M. de Ravil. ' I say govern because 
 M. de Mornand will not accept a subordinate position. 
 He will be chief of the Cabinet which he forms. May 
 Heaven preserve him, M. le Baron. The welfare of 
 France and the peace of the civilised world depend upon 
 him,' added M. de Ravil, in tones of profound conviction. 
 
 " As I walked homeward with my guardian, I thought 
 that there could indeed be no more enviable and noble 
 position than that of a man who, like M. de Mornand, 
 exercises a controlling influence over the welfare of 
 France and the peace of Europe. 
 
 " Such, my dear mother, were the circumstances under 
 which I met, for the first time, Messieurs Macreuse, 
 Senneterre, and Mornand. 
 
 " I will now tell you what the consequences of these 
 meetings have been. 
 
 320
 
 CHAPTER XXXIV. 
 
 TORMENTED BY DOUBTS. 
 
 " AT the expiration of a few days Mile. Helena had 
 succeeded in securing full information in regard to M. 
 Celestin de Macreuse, and she began to talk of him, not 
 occasionally, but almost incessantly. 
 
 " She told me that M. de Macreuse, by his birth and 
 connections, was entitled to a place in the very best 
 society; but, being endowed with the most exemplary 
 piety, and with wonderfully philanthropic instincts, he 
 had founded a charitable mission of the most admirable 
 kind, and though still young, his name was uttered 
 everywhere with the most profound affection and re- 
 spect. 
 
 " Madame de la Rochaigue, on the other hand, praised 1 
 M. de Senneterre in the most extravagant way, while 
 my guardian embraced every opportunity to laud M. de 
 Mornand's talents and virtues to the skies. 
 
 " At first I saw nothing extraordinary in these flat- 
 tering mentions of persons who seemed well worthy of 
 praise, but I soon began to notice that the names of 
 these gentlemen were mentioned by my guardian, his 
 wife, or his sister only in conversations which one or 
 the other had separately with me. 
 
 "At last came the day when M. de Maillefort so 
 spitefully, but, alas ! so truly, explained the real cause of 
 the attentions and flattery lavished upon me, and it soon 
 became evident to me that my guardian and his wife, 
 apprised of the situation by Mile. Helena, must fear the 
 
 321
 
 PRIDE. 
 
 consequences of the revelation which had been such a 
 shock to me ; for the very next day each one of the three, 
 in turn, disclosed his or her plans to me, plans evi- 
 dently conceived long before, and assured me that the 
 happiness of my life and the certainty of a blissful 
 future depended upon my marrying 
 
 " M. de Macreuse, according to Mile. Helena. 
 
 " M. de Senneterre, according to Madame de la 
 Rochaigue. 
 
 " M. de Mornand, according to my guardian. 
 
 " On hearing these unexpected proposals, my surprise 
 and uneasiness were so great that I could make no 
 coherent reply, and my embarrassed, incoherent words 
 having been taken as a sort of tacit consent, I, after a 
 little reflection, decided to leave the champions of these 
 three suitors under the same erroneous impression. 
 
 "This induced them to make their confidential dis- 
 closures much more complete. 
 
 " ' My brother and his wife,' said Mile. Helena, 
 ' are excellent people, but extremely vain and worldly. 
 Neither of them is capable of appreciating the rare 
 excellence of M. de Macreuse's principles, his Christian 
 virtues, and his almost angelic piety ; so we must keep 
 our secret, my dear Ernestine, until you have chosen 
 the husband I suggest, because he is so worthy of your 
 choice. Then, proud and honoured by this choice, you 
 will only have to notify my brother, your guardian, who 
 will give his consent, I am sure, if you only evince 
 proper firmness. If he should refuse his consent, which 
 is not at all likely, however, we will resort to other and 
 certain means of ensuring your happiness.' 
 
 " ' My poor sister Helena,' said M. de la Rochaigue, in 
 his turn, ' is a most excellent woman, a saint if there 
 ever was one, but she knows nothing in the world about 
 mundane matters. If you should take it into your head 
 to say anything about M. de Mornand to her, she would 
 open her eyes in astonishment, and tell you that he cares 
 
 322
 
 TORMENTED BY DOUBTS. 
 
 only for the vain things of this world, that he is ambi- 
 tious of power, etc. As for my wife, she is perfect, but 
 separate her from her balls, and her toilets, and her 
 social gossip, and her beaux who think only of the tie of 
 their cravats, and their strawberry-coloured gloves, and 
 she is completely at sea, for she knows nothing in the 
 world about higher things. To her, M. de Mornand 
 would be a grave, serious, depressing man, a statesman, 
 in short, and by the slighting manner in which you have 
 heard her speak of the Chamber of Peers, my dear child, 
 you can imagine how she would regard a proposal of 
 marriage from him. So all this must be kept a pro- 
 found secret between you and me, my dear ward, and 
 your mind once made up, as it is I who am your guard- 
 ian after all, and as your marriage will depend upon 
 my consent, you will have no difficulty in carrying out 
 your wishes eventually.' 
 
 " ' You must understand, my dear child,' said Madame 
 de la Rochaigue, * that all I have just said to you about 
 M. de Senneterre must be kept a profound secret between 
 us. My sister Helena knows no more about matrimonial 
 matters than a babe unborn, and that dear husband of 
 mine has really gone politics mad. He dreams only 
 of the Chamber of Peers, and knows no more about the 
 fashions, and pleasure, and elegance, than a Huron 
 Indian. In fact, he has no conception whatever of the 
 delights of a life shared with a charming young duke, 
 who is the most generous and amiable of men. So let 
 us guard our secret well, my dearest child, and, when 
 the time comes to inform your guardian of your deci- 
 sion, I'll attend to that, for M. de la Rochaigue has been 
 in the habit of letting me have my own way so long 
 that I am sure he will offer no opposition in this in- 
 stance, but readily consent to do whatever we wish in 
 the matter. And now I want to tell you that a most 
 fortunate idea occurred to me the other day,' continued 
 Madame de la Rochaigue. ' I have begged one of my 
 
 323
 
 PRIDE. 
 
 friends, whom you already know, Madame de Mirecourt, 
 to give a ball one week from to-day ; so, my dear child, 
 next Thursday, in the public tete-d-tete of a quadrille, 
 you will have an opportunity to judge of the sincerity of 
 the sentiment M. de Senneterre feels for you.' 
 
 " The very next morning after this conversation my 
 guardian said to me, in the most confidential manner : 
 
 " ' My wife thinks of taking you to a ball Madame de 
 Mirecourt intends to give. You will see M. de Mornand 
 at this entertainment, and I am sure he will not let the 
 opportunity pass to convince you of the deep and irre- 
 sistible impression the sight of you made upon him when 
 we went to congratulate him on the success of his speech 
 that day at the palace.' 
 
 " In like manner, a couple of days after my guardian 
 and his wife had thus disclosed their plans, Mile. Helena 
 said to me : 
 
 " ' My dear Ernestine, my sister-in-law intends to 
 take you to Madame de Mirecourt's ball Thursday. I 
 think this will be an excellent opportunity for you to 
 meet M. de Macreuse, and though this poor young man, 
 who is so bowed down with grief, has none of the frivo- 
 lous attributes which enable one to shine at affairs of 
 this kind, he has requested one of his particular friends 
 quite an important personage, by the way, the sister 
 of the Bishop of Ratopolis to ask Madame de Mire- 
 court for a card for him. This request was promptly 
 complied with, so on Thursday you will see him, and I 
 feel sure you will not be able to resist his eloquence 
 when he tells you, as he has told me, how your adored 
 image has followed him everywhere, and has even 
 troubled his prayers ever since the first time he saw 
 you at church.' 
 
 "It is consequently at the ball next Thursday, my 
 dearest mother, that I am to have my first inter- 
 view with Messrs, de Macreuse, de Senneterre and de 
 Mornand. 
 
 324
 
 TORMENTED BY DOUBTS. 
 
 " Even if M. de Maillef ort's sarcastic remarks had not 
 harshly revealed the real cause of the admiration and 
 affection so generally manifested for me, my fears 
 and suspicions must now have been awakened by the 
 duplicity of those around me, plotting unbeknown to 
 each other, and deceiving each other in order to succeed 
 in their nefarious designs. You can judge of my anxiety, 
 my beloved mother, now these two successive revelations 
 have assumed such grave importance. 
 
 " To complete my confession, my dear mother, I must 
 tell you plainly what my first impressions were in rela- 
 tion to the three persons the different members of the 
 Rochaigue family wish me to marry. 
 
 " Up to this time, I had never given the subject of 
 marriage so much as a thought ; the day for that seemed 
 so far off, and it was such an important matter, that if a 
 vague thought of it ever did flit through my mind, I 
 merely congratulated myself that there was no need of 
 troubling myself about that matter for a long time. 
 
 " Consequently it was not with any thought of him as 
 a possible husband that I was touched by the evident 
 grief of M. de Macreuse, who, like myself, was mourning 
 the loss of a mother, though what Mile. Helena was con- 
 tinually saying about the sweetness of his expression, his 
 profound melancholy, and the kindness of his heart as 
 shown by his munificent alms, all combined to add a 
 profound esteem to the compassion I felt for him. 
 
 " M. de Senneterre, by the frankness and generosity of 
 his character, by his unaffected gaiety and the graceful 
 elegance of his manners, had pleased me very much ; 
 and it seemed to me that it would be very easy, though I 
 am naturally so reserved, to feel perfect confidence in 
 him. 
 
 " As for M. de Mornand, he had impressed me very 
 much, though this was probably due quite as much to 
 what I had heard about the superiority of his talents and 
 character as to the powerful influence he seemed to 
 
 325
 
 PRIDE. 
 
 exert, so I felt almost overwhelmed, though decidedly 
 proud of the few kind words he addressed to me when I 
 met him in the garden of the Luxembourg. 
 
 "And now when M. de Maillefort's revelations have 
 made me distrust everything and everybody, I hear that 
 all three of these men desire to marry me. Is it strange, 
 then, that I am no longer able to read my own heart, and 
 that, tormented by all kinds of doubts and suspicions, I 
 ask myself if these three suitors for my hand are not all 
 actuated by the same base motives as the persons by 
 whom I am surrounded. 
 
 " And harassed by these doubts, all that pleased me 
 and all that I so much admired in them now dis- 
 turbs and alarms me. What if M. de Macreuse's grief 
 and piety, M. de Senneterre's charming urbanity of 
 manner, and M. de Mornand's grand and generous utter- 
 ances, all conceal base and mercenary natures ! 
 
 " Oh, mother, if you knew how terrible to me are these 
 doubts which are completing the work of destruction M. 
 de Maillefort's revelation began. 
 
 " They are the more terrible because I shall always be 
 obliged to live with my guardian and his family, and 
 if I become convinced beyond a doubt that they have 
 flattered and deceived me merely for their own aggran- 
 disement, I shall feel for them only the bitterest contempt 
 and aversion. 
 
 " Because I am immensely rich, must I be married 
 only for my money ? 
 
 " Am I doomed to the misery of such a marriage, the 
 indifference, contempt, hatred, perhaps, that are sure to 
 follow when a man is mean enough to wed a woman 
 merely for mercenary motives ? 
 
 " Oh, mother, the thought is so horrible that it haunts 
 me continually. I can not drive it away, strive as I may. 
 
 " So I have resolved to escape from it at the cost of a 
 dangerous, perhaps fatal experiment. 
 
 " I have been induced to make this resolve because it 
 
 326
 
 TORMENTED BY DOUBTS. 
 
 seemed to be the only means of satisfying my cruel doubts, 
 not only in regard to others, but myself as well. I must 
 know once for all what I really am, and what I really 
 appear to be, independent of my fortune. 
 
 " Satisfied on this point, I shall easily be able to dis- 
 tinguish the true from the false. But how am I to 
 ascertain what I am ? How am I to discover my precise 
 value, so to speak ? Whom can I ask ? Who will be 
 frank enough to separate the young girl from the heiress 
 in his valuation ? 
 
 " Besides, would such a verdict, however severe or 
 kindly it might be, satisfy and reassure me entirely ? 
 
 " No, I must have the verdict of several disinterested 
 parties. 
 
 " But where can I find any such persons ? After a 
 great deal of thought, I have decided upon this plan. 
 
 " Madame Laine* was telling me about a week ago of 
 some little entertainments that one of her friends gives 
 every Sunday. I have sought and found, this evening, a 
 way to attend one of these reunions in company with my 
 governess, but ostensibly as a relative of hers, a young 
 orphan who supports herself by her daily toil, like all 
 the other young people who compose the company. 
 
 " There no one will know me. What they really think 
 of me will be shown conclusively by the reception given 
 me. The rare perfections with which I am endowed 
 according to those around me have had such a sudden 
 and irresistible effect, they say, upon them, and upon the 
 husbands they have picked out for me, in short, I pro- 
 duce such a sensation at all the assemblies I frequent, 
 that I am anxious to see if I shall prove equally irresist- 
 ible to the young people at Madame Herbauf s modest 
 entertainment. 
 
 ".If I do not, I shall know that I have been basely 
 deceived, and there is little danger that I shall ever en- 
 danger my future happiness by fixing my choice upon 
 either of the suitors attracted solely by cupidity. 
 
 327
 
 PRIDE. 
 
 " I am also resolved to find some means of escaping 
 the snares that seem to surround me on every side. 
 
 " What means I do not know. Alas ! alone in the 
 world as I am, in whom can I confide ? In whom can I 
 trust ? 
 
 " In God and in you, my mother. I shall obey all 
 the inspirations you send me, as I obey this, for, 
 strange as it may appear, I cannot divest myself of the 
 idea that this did come from you. At all events, it had 
 its origin in a wise and noble sentiment, a desire to 
 know the truth, however disheartening it may be. 
 
 " So to-morrow, I am resolved to attend the reunion 
 at Madame Herbaut's house." 
 
 So the next day, Mile, de Beaumesnil, having feigned 
 indisposition, and having escaped the assiduous attentions 
 of the Rochaigues by a firm refusal to admit them to 
 her room, left the house soon after nightfall, accompanied 
 by her governess, and, taking a cab some distance from 
 the mansion, was driven to Madame Herbaut's house. 
 
 END OF VOLUME I. 
 
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