THE LIBRARY 
 
 OF 
 
 THE UNIVERSITY 
 OF CALIFORNIA 
 
 LOS ANGELES
 

 
 AMERICAN 
 NOB! LI TY 
 
 From the French of 
 
 PlERRE DE COULEVAIN ose 
 
 sS J 
 
 -3 
 
 Mallard 
 
 NEW YORK 
 
 E-P-DUTTON & COMPANY 
 PUBLISHERS
 
 COPYRIGHT, 1913 
 BY E. P. BUTTON & COMPANY 
 
 TTbe ftnicftetboclter press, flew )orfc
 
 Slk 
 
 INTRODUCTION 
 
 AMERICA is no longer the New World, but the Modern 
 World. It is a world which ought to awaken our 
 interest and our fellow-feeling, for, whilst owing its 
 origin to us, it has grown and developed outside the 
 routine that we abhor and in the midst of the liberty 
 of which we dream. 
 
 We fondly imagine that America, as a republic, 
 must be the ideal nation of equality. This is quite a 
 mistake, for nowhere are the lines of demarcation so 
 distinct and nowhere are they so jealously maintained. 
 
 Towards the seventeenth century, America was open 
 to all the oppressed and the discontented and to all 
 the adventurously inclined of the Old World. Dutch- 
 men came and settled there in order to escape from the 
 Spanish yoke. English Puritans, persecuted by the 
 Stuarts, came, and sectarians, too, from everywhere, in 
 the wake of William Penn, the Quaker. These emi- 
 grants, whom political or religious causes had forced 
 to leave their country, did not mix with the adven- 
 turers who had invaded America. Their religious 
 faith and their principles were as a holy ark, keeping 
 them above the rising flood of immigration. They 
 formed a caste apart, and this caste constituted "so- 
 ciety." For a very long time, this caste was quite 
 inaccessible to parvenus. Some thirty or forty years 
 ago, the plutocracy which could boast of three degrees 
 of descent, and of enormous wealth, forced its way 
 into this sacred circle. It grouped itself around the 
 
 iii 
 
 2135021
 
 iv INTRODUCTION 
 
 " Patriarchs," made use of their prestige, surrounded 
 them and overwhelmed them, so that at present these 
 " Patriarchs " are nothing more than the nucleus of 
 " society," a nucleus already swallowed up, as an 
 American has said. 
 
 It is a fact that the families who are descended 
 from the real founders of the United States, who have 
 genealogical trees, coats-of-arms and proofs of long 
 existence, have given way to the millionaires. The 
 narrow Puritanism and conservative spirit common to 
 these old families placed them in a position of in- 
 feriority in the struggle for power and money. They 
 are now experiencing that effacement which seems to 
 be the lot of the aristocracy everywhere. 
 
 What is called " society " in America is by no means 
 an idle class. Like the upper bourgeoisie in France, 
 it is composed of lawyers, doctors, financiers, and manu- 
 facturers. It forms a kind of Faubourg St. Germain 
 which is more difficult of access and more exclusive 
 than this class of society in Europe at present. 
 
 To be or not to be a member of " society " is of 
 more interest to an American than the " to be or not 
 to be " of Hamlet, for the American is the most 
 materialistic person in the world. He does not trouble 
 about doing well, but about "doing quickly." He 
 works, builds, and constructs for himself, and not for 
 his children. As soon as he has won in the struggle 
 for money, he throws himself into the struggle for 
 position. 
 
 In order to get admission among the elite of his 
 country, the new millionaire gives extraordinary enter- 
 tainments, spends huge sums of money in presents, and 
 employs stratagems which would supply comedy with 
 some very amusing scenes.
 
 INTRODUCTION v 
 
 The growth of new strata around "society," at 
 present, is something formidable, for, in America, 
 emulation is terrific. It is the motive power which 
 Providence uses for starting that activity which both 
 amazes and alarms us. The child wants more toys 
 than its play-fellows, the woman more luxury than 
 her friends, and the man more dollars than his col- 
 leagues. To have more! Under the influence of this 
 stimulus, which urges each one on, the New World is 
 going ahead, but the question is whither ? According 
 to Ecclesiastes : " The thing that hath been, it is that 
 which still shall be," and if so America will have the 
 same ordeals that we have had, although they will 
 probably take less time, and afterwards it will over- 
 take us in our evolution. When it is covered with 
 cities and when it has plenty of money and men, some 
 Napoleon will lead it on to the conquest of Brazil 
 and Mexico and unite all the continent under his 
 sceptre. It will have military glory, honours, and dis- 
 tinctions and all the other baubles that we possess. 
 After this backward movement, which appears to be 
 necessary, it will shake off the yoke and rush on, 
 purified and improved by the ordeal through which it 
 has passed, to the conquest of life by means of science, 
 self-sacrifice, and love. 
 
 In the United States, the work of man is more re- 
 markable than the man himself. The woman is inter- 
 esting though, in herself, as she is the product of 
 ideas, habits, customs, and principles quite different 
 from ours. 
 
 The political, as well as the ordinary, immigrants 
 found the struggle harsh and painful, and in this 
 struggle they were most efficaciously helped by their 
 women. While the men were conquering territories,
 
 vi INTRODUCTION 
 
 digging the soil and building towns, the women were 
 making the home. 
 
 Freed from the conventions which had crushed her, 
 the timid wife developed into a valiant, and often 
 heroic, companion. Outcast women purified them- 
 selves by work and devotion and, in the new society, 
 woman created for herself a wider and nobler sphere. 
 
 Man neither grudged her liberty nor honours. He 
 had the greatest respect and admiration for her, to- 
 gether with a chivalrous sentiment which has been 
 perpetuated, as the mothers inculcated it into their 
 sons. At present, this is one of the finest traits in 
 the American character. 
 
 Individually, women have very little influence in the 
 United States, but collectively they are formidable. 
 They are quite aware of this, for they hold together 
 in the most extraordinary way, and they certainly 
 contribute largely to the progress of their country. 
 Their work is done by means of sudden freaks and 
 infatuations. Fashion rules everything. At one minute 
 it is the fashion to be interested in some particular 
 branch of science, and for the time being no one cares 
 for anything else. All at once, some particular poet 
 or prose writer is in vogue. A few years ago, Brown- 
 ing was the man of the day, and after that, Balzac, 
 whose books were in every one's hands. Sometimes 
 a special kind of misfortune stirs every one's pity; it 
 may perhaps be blindness. Bazaars are organised, 
 money comes pouring in, and blind asylums are 
 built. All this is the most extraordinary example of 
 suggestion that can be imagined. 
 
 No people are more awake to the fact of the short- 
 ness of life than Americans. It is this consciousness 
 that spurs them on, although they are not really aware
 
 INTRODUCTION vii 
 
 of the fact themselves. It urges men on to work and 
 women on to pleasure and makes them selfish. Life 
 is short, they say, so let us have a good time. Life 
 is short, so there must be no useless sentimentality 
 nor any useless acquaintances. Everything must serve 
 for something, it must help onward. 
 
 It is not among the society women that we must 
 look for the greatest virtues and good qualities. In 
 America, there is a very large class of serious, edu- 
 cated women and it is these women who form the 
 bulwarks of America, just as the provincial and 
 middle-class women of France form the bulwarks of 
 the country. 
 
 Whether it be that the mixture of race, liberty, and 
 rational education produces a distinct variety in the 
 feminine genus, or that the American woman has not 
 yet attained her full development, certain it is that 
 her nature is simple, entirely objective, and that she 
 has only the visual quality. 
 
 No other being in creation enjoys life more, or gets 
 out of it more satisfaction and pleasure. Her judg- 
 ment is neither troubled by excess of sentiment, nor 
 by excess of sensuality. Her vision is very clear and 
 exact. 
 
 No brain contains more impressions, images, and 
 memories than that of the American woman. The 
 thousands of American wives and daughters who come 
 to Europe every year fulfil an unconscious mission, 
 as indeed do all creatures. A higher Will urges them 
 to our continent. They are seized with what they call 
 " the European fever," which is a nervous disquietude, 
 a need of change, something similar to the feeling 
 experienced by birds at the time of their migration. 
 And so these women set out, some to take lessons,
 
 viii INTRODUCTION 
 
 others to rest from their household duties, or to buy 
 dress. They see masterpieces of art, different coun- 
 tries, and beautiful things of all kinds. They take 
 hack with them objects of art, together with relics of 
 the past. Their r61e is the same as that of the bee 
 and the butterfly. They are sent to fetch a little of 
 the soul of the Old World, a little of its fertilising 
 pollen. They have to take back some of the elements 
 of which Nature has need for producing the artists, 
 the poets, and the thinkers who will be the glory of 
 America, just as the workers of to-day are its power 
 and its force.
 
 PART I
 
 AMERICAN NOBILITY 
 
 CHAPTER I 
 
 EVERYTHING in the house of Mrs. Villars, Washing- 
 ton Square, New York, pointed to an approaching 
 departure for Europe and to a long absence. In the 
 hall a pile of luggage was to be seen, labelled " Paris." 
 There were comfortable deck-chairs and those flat 
 cabin trunks which an American woman packs and 
 unpacks with equal pleasure. 
 
 The pictures and mirrors were all protected, the 
 carpets rolled up, and the chintz summer covers had 
 been drawn over the furniture. On the walls and on 
 the brackets there were ugly gaps, and throughout the 
 house, was the cold, empty look of uninhabited places. 
 
 The library was the only room which still had a 
 gay, comfortable appearance. Notwithstanding its 
 oak wainscoting, its bronze-tinted walls, its Queen 
 Anne chimney-piece, mediaeval lantern, painted win- 
 dows, and well-lined book-shelves, the room had not 
 a sober look. There was evidence of feminine caprice 
 in the crowd of pretty, modern, artistic objects which 
 were not quite in accordance with the general style of 
 the room. Turkey carpets, bear and tiger skins were 
 strewn about the floor. There were chairs of all sizes 
 
 3
 
 4 AMERICAN NOBILITY 
 
 and shapes, adorned with silk coverings or with balsam 
 cushions. There were small sofas with screens at the 
 back and glass-cases filled with objects of art, lamps 
 with wonderful shades, and a profusion of flowers. 
 
 A girl, whose face and dress were in perfect harmony 
 with this extremely modern interior, was moving about 
 in the room, putting the illustrated papers and reviews 
 into the drawers of the long table which stood in the 
 middle of the library. 
 
 While her back was turned towards the door, a 
 visitor appeared beneath the raised curtains. He was 
 about thirty years of age and his irreproachable even- 
 ing dress showed off to advantage his tall figure. His 
 clearly cut features were those of a Saxon type and 
 he had the unmistakable air of a man of good lineage. 
 He hesitated for a few seconds and then advanced 
 quietly. 
 
 Annie Villars did not see him until he was at her 
 side. 
 
 " Frank ! " she exclaimed, with a slight start, " how 
 you frightened me! I was so busy with my straight- 
 ening that I never saw you come in." 
 
 "Can I help you?" 
 
 " No, thanks, I have just finished," she replied, 
 closing the last drawer. " I shall be thankful to rest 
 a minute." 
 
 She led the way to the fireplace and, pointing to a 
 chair for her visitor, sat down herself in a rocking- 
 chair, which she set in movement with a push of her 
 crossed feet. 
 
 " Rock away," said Frank Barnett, smiling. " That 
 is a pleasure you will not have in Europe." 
 
 " Do you mean to say that there are no rocking- 
 chairs there?" she asked.
 
 AMERICAN NOBILITY 5 
 
 " There are some, but they are uncomfortable, heavy, 
 and difficult to move. They do not know how to make 
 them, over there, and it is only in America that we 
 know how to use them." 
 
 " They are delightful inventions." 
 
 " Yes, and I am sure we owe our best inspirations 
 to them. The rocking movement either lulls or stimu- 
 lates our ideas. It is a sort of accompaniment to 
 conversation and when two people, who are talking or 
 flirting, rock together, I would wager that they are 
 both of the same mind." 
 
 Miss Villars looked at the young man in surprise. 
 
 " I did not think you capable of so much penetra- 
 tion," she said. 
 
 " Thank you," replied Mr. Barnett, bowing. " It 
 seems to me," he continued calmly, " that the rocking- 
 chair is an admirable help to coquetry for a woman. 
 It shows off to advantage her figure and her hands 
 and feet, and then, too, it soothes her nerves. An 
 American shows what state of mind she is in by the 
 way she rocks herself, just as a Spanish woman does 
 by the movement of her fan. When the movement is 
 moderate and regular, she is in a peaceful frame of 
 mind, when it is long and slow, it denotes reflection: 
 a short, quick movement means anger and bad temper. 
 Just at present, your way of rocking shows that you 
 are very tired." 
 
 " I am not at all surprised to hear that," said Annie 
 Villars, laughing, " for I am dead tired. I thought we 
 should never come to the end of all we had to do." 
 
 " And so you are really just about to start on this 
 famous trip to Europe, about which you have been 
 thinking for so many years ? " 
 
 " Yes, and now that the moment has really arrived
 
 6 AMERICAN NOBILITY 
 
 to leave New York, I feel so horribly sad. If I dared, 
 I would unpack my trunks again." 
 
 "Dare!" 
 
 " Oh, it would be quite useless, for I should begin 
 to pack once more within a couple of days. Really, 
 though, I never thought it would be so difficult to say 
 good-bye. All day long, stupid little tears have kept 
 coming into my eyes, making my nose red. Is it not 
 ridiculous ? " 
 
 "Ridiculous? No, not at all. You surely ought 
 to feel a little regret on leaving your friends and 
 relatives." 
 
 " It is very curious, but, every day, while I have 
 been busy putting away all my treasures, I have had 
 the impression, all the time, that I should never see 
 them again. I wonder whether it is a presentiment. 
 I am going to be drowned on the way, perhaps, or 
 die of fever at Rome, or of influenza somewhere else. 
 1 should not be the first " 
 
 " There is something I dread for you much more 
 than the voyage, fever, or influenza " 
 
 " What is it you dread ? " 
 
 " Heiress-traps, which Europeans set so cleverly. 
 They are frequently made in the form of a coronet. 
 Even the most sensible American looks at them, only 
 out of curiosity at first, but gradually with envy. She 
 goes up to them, gets very near too near and then 
 clack, she finds herself caught, and before she knows 
 where she is, she is a duchess, a marchioness, or a 
 countess, and the thing is done." 
 
 Miss Villars could not help laughing. 
 
 " Frank," she said, " you ought to write a Guide- 
 book, for the use of girls going to Europe. You could 
 point out to them, by means of allegories of this kind,
 
 AMERICAN NOBILITY 7 
 
 the dangers to which they will be exposed and so put 
 them on their guard." 
 
 "Alas, it would be so much time wasted. Titles 
 and great names exercise a fascination which I do 
 not pretend to explain, but that fascination acts even 
 on the best balanced of feminine minds." 
 
 " You can be quite easy about me, at any rate. I 
 have a position in society which quite suffices, as far 
 as my ambition and vanity are concerned. I am the 
 last person in the world to be influenced by a title. 
 You have known me so long, that you ought to be sure 
 of that." 
 
 " A title would not influence you, no. But I am not 
 so sure that a titled man would not. Madame de 
 Keradieu will introduce you into the Faubourg St. 
 Germain world and, with the best intentions possible, 
 she will lead you right into the lions' den. It will be 
 a miracle if you are not devoured. To be quite frank, 
 I tremble to think of what will happen. Your immense 
 fortune will excite the covetousness of unscrupulous 
 men without any delicacy, men who are incapable of 
 working, either with their brains or hands, and who 
 want to marry money, and nothing but money. You 
 will see them play the part of the disinterested lover, 
 they will kiss your hand and pay you empty compli- 
 ments. You will probably be fascinated by their elo- 
 quence and their distinguished manners. In a little 
 time, you will begin to think American men prosaic, 
 awkward, and humdrum. Between this stage and what 
 I dread, there is only one step." 
 
 " If I were very young, you might be right in fearing 
 for me, but I am twenty-one; I have passed the age of 
 reason three times over, and I have been out three 
 years."
 
 8 AMERICAN NOBILITY 
 
 " Yes, but the society you frequent is composed of 
 people whose family and character you know. Your 
 experience of human nature is, therefore, extremely 
 limited." 
 
 " Oh, not as limited as you think. I have met with 
 hypocrisy and falsehood enough to be able to recognise 
 them," answered the girl drily. 
 
 " So much the worse and so much the better," re- 
 turned Frank Barnett, calmly. " If your father ex- 
 pressed a wish in his will that you should not go to 
 Europe before you were twenty-one, it was, no doubt, 
 because he hoped that you would be married by then, 
 or, at any rate, that you would be better able to defend 
 yourself against the enterprises of fortune-hunters." 
 
 " You need not be uneasy, I will take care of myself," 
 said the girl, with a look and accent which revealed 
 her strong character. " No one will run away with 
 me, or marry me without my consent, and it is my 
 firm intention to come back again Annie Villars." 
 
 " Heaven grant that you may ! " 
 
 These words were spoken with such warmth that a 
 fleeting colour came into the girl's face. 
 
 " Oh, as for you, Frank," she said, laughing, by way 
 of hiding her confusion, " you are one of the men who 
 would neither let a woman nor a dollar go out of 
 America, if you could help it." 
 
 " You are quite right. It makes me furious to see 
 our girls taking to these idle dandies fortunes which 
 have sometimes cost the life, and nearly always the 
 health, of their fathers. If this is to continue, the 
 day will come when we shall be obliged to make an 
 incursion into Europe, for the sake of getting back 
 our national wealth. Women are as ungrateful as 
 children. They neither appreciate kindness nor devo-
 
 AMERICAN NOBILITY 9 
 
 tion. In America, we recognise all their rights and 
 we have granted them every privilege. They live in 
 a luxury unknown to Europe and they have the lion's 
 share of everything. At present, even that is not 
 enough. They must now have coronets and, as we 
 cannot supply them with these, they prefer titled men, 
 men who, even with their titles, are certainly not our 
 equals." 
 
 Frank Barnett spoke in a tone of absolute conviction 
 that left no doubt as to his sincerity. 
 
 " You talk like our society papers," remarked his 
 companion. " I must say that I do not approve of 
 their systematic attacks on the aristocracy of Europe. 
 As soon as an unfortunate aristocrat puts his foot on 
 our soil, they all attack him, insinuate that he has 
 mercenary intentions, publish his story, and en- 
 deavour to make him appear ridiculous. Such fury 
 is suggestive of envy." 
 
 " Envy ? Oh, no, we are rich and powerful enough 
 to make that impossible," answered the young man, 
 with a note of pride in his tone. " We used to have 
 the greatest respect for the old, historic names, but 
 after seeing descendants of the Crusaders, men belong- 
 ing to old Germanic tribes, and scions of princely 
 families come and sell their names and parchments 
 to the highest bidder, our disillusion is complete. We 
 had implicit confidence formerly, but after that we had 
 absolute distrust, and the consequence is that a whole 
 class is now treated by us with the scorn that just a 
 handful of spendthrift degenerates deserve. I myself 
 was so prejudiced about the aristocracy that, when 
 my sister Mary informed me she was going to marry an 
 Austrian Count, I was furious, for I felt humiliated." 
 
 " Yes, I remember," said Annie, " and now you spend
 
 10 AMERICAN NOBILITY 
 
 weeks in her country-house and at the houses of her 
 friends. You frequent the society of princes and dukes 
 to such a degree that you will surely be accused of 
 snobbishness yourself." 
 
 Frank Barnett coloured slightly. 
 
 " Snobbishness belongs to the parvenu, and at least 
 I am not a parvenu. During the five years that I 
 have mixed with what is called upper-class society in 
 Europe, I have had time to study it. It is better 
 than I thought it was. Its every-day life is less 
 strained and goes more smoothly than ours, so that 
 one has a real sense of rest. I must own that a man 
 with the real qualities of the old nobility is a fine 
 specimen of humanity. I told you, for instance, that 
 I met the Duke of Orleans, this last autumn, in 
 Bohemia, at Prince Varna's. We went out shooting 
 together for about a week. He was simply delightful. 
 Several times, when speaking of France, his eyes filled 
 with tears, and this did not seem at all ridiculous. 
 When I was leaving, he said to me : ' You are lucky 
 to be able to go to Paris, I envy you.' There was such 
 sincere grief in his voice when he said this, that I 
 was quite touched by it. If, by giving a million dol- 
 lars, I could have helped him to get the law repealed 
 by which he is exiled, I would certainly have given 
 them." 
 
 *' A nice thing for a republican to do," remarked 
 Annie. 
 
 " The men of the aristocracy are not worth much 
 from an American point of view, as they lack the energy 
 necessary for reaction. Their charm, though, cannot 
 be denied. They give you the impression of extremely 
 refined and highly developed individuals and when this 
 is not carried too far, they are perfect."
 
 AMERICAN NOBILITY 11 
 
 " Like the Duke of Orleans, for instance? " suggested 
 Annie, archly. 
 
 " Yes, like the Duke of Orleans," agreed Frank 
 Barnett. " Unfortunately most of them are no longer 
 at their best, they have deteriorated. There seems to 
 be a sort of flaw or blemish in their character, or in 
 their moral attitude, just as there are cracks in old 
 china. I think they are all brave, though, and capable 
 of heroic deeds." 
 
 " That is something." 
 
 "Not much. Heroism is rarely needed in modern 
 life. Energy and straightforwardness are the two 
 most necessary things. It would not be much con- 
 solation to you to know that your husband was brave 
 and ready to die for his country, if he were unfaithful 
 to you and made you unhappy." 
 
 "No, indeed." 
 
 " I should think it quite natural, and even intelligent, 
 if the aristocracy wanted to rejuvenate by means of 
 marriage with foreigners, but it is not that at all. 
 Rich aristocrats marry women belonging to their own 
 world. It is only those who are ruined or worse who 
 come in search of the American woman. It certainly 
 is not very flattering for her." 
 
 " Oh, as far as that is concerned, we have paid them 
 back in their own coin. Most of the American girls 
 who have married aristocrats are parvenues. Unable 
 to get into society in our country, they have gone to 
 Europe and bought titles." 
 
 " And when they have come back to us as princesses 
 or duchesses, we have received them " 
 
 " Why, of course, since the husband is supposed to 
 ennoble the wife. I should have done the same thing 
 in their place. Life is short, so that we must get the
 
 12 AMERICAN NOBILITY 
 
 most satisfaction and enjoyment we can out of it. 
 Personally, I would not give up the position I hold 
 in New York society merely to become a parvenue in 
 any Faubourg St. Germain in the world. It would 
 be simply stupid." 
 
 " It certainly would and, between ourselves, Ameri- 
 can women are not seen to advantage in the midst of 
 an aristocratic gathering. I have been struck by this 
 repeatedly, so that it must be as I say. Some of them 
 are stiff and paralysed, as it were, by timidity, whilst 
 others put on too much assurance and familiarity. 
 Although they may be prettier and more elegant than 
 most of the duchesses and marchionesses, they do not 
 come up to them." 
 
 "And why not, pray?" asked Annie Villars, in a 
 slightly vexed tone. 
 
 " Because European women put a certain art into 
 all they do or say. In the middle class, this art is 
 too evident and often appears affected. Among the 
 grandes dames, though, it is not evident, for they are 
 consummate actresses, but it has required long cen- 
 turies to bring them to this state of perfection. Side 
 by side with them, natural American women are un- 
 mistakably young, and they appear prosaic and even 
 vulgar. They have the same effect as newly em- 
 broidered flowers on a foundation of old silk. There is 
 something harsh that does not blend. And then, you see, 
 European men do not appreciate such ' simple ' women. 
 They have seen too much of life for that. They liko 
 coloured lips, eyes that have been touched up, and scien- 
 tific coquetry. I have seen behind the scenes in many 
 of these European-American homes. In those where the 
 husband and wife got on the best, it always seemed to 
 me that they did not understand each other at all."
 
 AMERICAN NOBILITY 13 
 
 "And yet these foreign marriages generally appear 
 to turn out well." 
 
 " Thanks to the wife's abnegation. An American 
 woman will make sacrifices for her European husband 
 such as she would never make for a man of her own 
 country. This always makes me furious. We have 
 produced a great nation, but we have not succeeded 
 in bringing out the true qualities of our women. We 
 have spoilt them and they now treat us as their slaves. 
 They really and truly consider themselves as our 
 superiors. When an American woman marries a 
 European though, she becomes yielding and obedient, 
 she is satisfied with anything, and accommodates her- 
 self without a murmur, to the tastes of her lord and 
 master. You really would not recognise her. You may be 
 quite sure, though, that the apprenticeship for all these 
 American princesses, duchesses, and marchionesses has 
 been a very hard one. They have not cared to own 
 to all the mortifications they have endured. I now be- 
 lieve that Providence sends some of our girls to France 
 and to Italy, so that they may learn their true r61e." 
 
 " I am very curious to see all these things and these 
 people for myself," said Annie Villars. " You have 
 told me your impressions and I will tell you mine. 
 They will probably be quite different, and then how 
 we shall argue! " 
 
 "You do not intend to stay more than a year?" 
 asked the young man, with visible anxiety. 
 
 " Oh, no. We must be back for Clara's wedding." 
 
 " While you are away, I shall finish furnishing and 
 arranging my house. Opening all the cases of curi- 
 osities I have brought back from the four quarters of 
 the earth will entertain me. I have really forgotten 
 what is inside them all."
 
 14 AMERICAN NOBILITY 
 
 " Shall I tell you what you might do? " said Annie, 
 suddenly. 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " George Ottis is to join us in Rome, in December. 
 You might come with him." 
 
 " Do you really mean it ? " asked Frank Barnett, his 
 voice trembling slightly and his face lighting up with 
 joy. 
 
 " Yes, I wish you would. Clara will monopolise 
 George, of course, and mother and I would then be 
 reduced to our own society which would not be at 
 all amusing," added Annie, with that somewhat brutal 
 frankness which characterises the American woman. 
 
 The young man's face darkened. Annie Villars had 
 been playing with him in this way for the last three 
 years. 
 
 " Right," he answered, " I will come to Rome. And 
 now I will say good-bye and wish you a pleasant 
 journey." 
 
 " Shall you not be at the boat to-morrow ? " 
 
 " No, I am going to Lenox early in the morning. I 
 should not care to be lost in the crowd of your ad- 
 mirers. I preferred coming to say farewell in a less 
 wholesale manner. You will have plenty of people 
 without me to give you a good send-off. A good 
 send-off, a bevy of friends, and plenty of flowers. 
 Girls only care for that sort of thing nowadays. It 
 is a triumph for them and shows their importance in 
 society life." 
 
 " Why not say at once that we are the vainest 
 creatures on earth ? " remarked Annie, colouring with 
 pique. 
 
 Frank Barnett, evidently not wishing to protest, rose 
 with a smile.
 
 AMERICAN NOBILITY 15 
 
 " Forgive me teasing you this time, and, while you 
 are about it, forgive all my past sins." 
 
 " Oh, I forgive you. You may depart in peace." 
 
 " And Annie, if I can be of any use to you, at any 
 time, you have only to let me know. I am entirely 
 at your service. You have neither father nor brother 
 and we are such old friends." 
 
 Annie Villars seemed to be slightly troubled by these 
 words. " I shall not forget," she answered, speaking 
 more gently. 
 
 " And do not get transformed into a duchess or a 
 marchioness," added Frank, " for we cannot do without 
 you." 
 
 " There is no fear of that. I shall come back to 
 the land of rocking-chairs. I shall come back," she 
 repeated, with the imperturbable assurance of the 
 human being who believes in free-will. " Have you 
 seen mother and Clara? " she asked, rising in her turn. 
 
 " Yes, I have said good-bye to them." 
 
 " Well, then, farewell till we meet in Borne, in 
 December." 
 
 " Good-bye." 
 
 The two looked straight into each other's eyes for 
 a second and then shook hands quickly, but heartily. 
 Frank Barnett then turned towards the door and 
 walked very slowly away. When once she was alone, 
 it was as though a vague intuition told Annie that 
 love and happiness were within reach, for she made 
 a movement forwards and her lips moved, as though 
 she were about to call the young man back. She stood 
 still again and remained mute until the closing of the 
 hall-door told her that Frank Barnett had left the 
 house. She sat down and the little tears she had 
 qualified as " stupid " came once more into her eyes.
 
 16 AMERICAN NOBILITY 
 
 A tall, fair-haired girl, wearing a most becoming 
 dress, rushed into the room, like a whirlwind, and 
 planted herself straight in front of Annie. 
 
 "Well?" she asked. 
 
 "Well! What?" 
 
 " Has Frank proposed? Are you engaged? " 
 
 " Engaged ? Are you mad ? " 
 
 " Good heavens, has he gone away without saying 
 anything?" 
 
 As though overwhelmed with disappointment, Clara 
 May sank down on the carpet, at her cousin's feet. 
 
 " I was hoping that, at the last moment, the fear 
 of losing you would untie his tongue. It really is too 
 stupid, for it is so evident that he is in love with you. 
 A blind man would guess it, by the very sound of 
 his voice when he speaks to you. With all his fine 
 feeling, in keeping silence out of delicacy, he is run- 
 ning the risk of losing you, for all the poverty-stricken 
 aristocrats we shall meet will not have such scruples 
 and will not be so discreet." 
 
 Annie Villars stopped her rocking-chair abruptly. 
 
 " Oh, do be quiet," she exclaimed. " I have been 
 warned and put on my guard quite sufficiently, thank 
 you. It is as though you had all agreed together to 
 spoil the pleasure of my trip for me." She then 
 started rocking herself again, in a way that betrayed 
 her annoyance. 
 
 " You have been to Europe and come back again," 
 she continued, after a slight pause. 
 
 " Yes, but we have not the same character at all. 
 You are much more impressionable " 
 
 " You might as well say, at once, that I am senti- 
 mental and romantic." 
 
 " Oh, no, thank heaven, you are not as bad as that.
 
 17 
 
 Still I think you could more easily be persuaded into 
 anything than I should be. And then, too, you have 
 an independent fortune, and a fortune big enough to 
 tempt a Royal Highness. The newspapers will not 
 fail to announce the arrival in Paris of the wealthy 
 Miss Villars of New York. Think of the effect that 
 will produce. I simply tremble to think of the result." 
 
 " Make your mind easy. I shall never marry a 
 foreigner, and much less a poor foreigner. It is not 
 that I should grudge my money, but I should be afraid 
 of being married for my money. You need not worry, 
 for the man is not yet born who could make me give 
 up America for him." 
 
 "Well, I only hope he is not, but I shall keep my 
 eyes open. Only imagine what our poor aunts would 
 say if you, a Villars, the daughter of their brother, 
 Philip, should marry a Frenchman or an Italian and 
 a Catholic. They would make themselves ill over it 
 and they would never forgive you. The reason they 
 insisted on my going with you is that they have no 
 faith in your mother seeing through the wiles that 
 will beset you. I might add that I am giving a good 
 proof of my devotion to you, as I certainly would not 
 leave George just now for any one else." 
 
 " Yes, but you might as well own that you are not 
 sorry to go to Paris to get your trousseau." 
 
 " Quite true, but I should not have gone expressly 
 for that." 
 
 Whilst talking, Clara had taken the hairpins out of 
 her hair and it now fell over her shoulders in a thick, 
 wavy mass. She shook it back from her forehead, like 
 a mane, and then rose from the floor. 
 
 " You have not done anything here yet," she said, 
 looking round the library.
 
 18 AMERICAN NOBILITY 
 
 " I have put all the papers, reviews, and engravings 
 away in the drawers." 
 
 "Can I help you?" 
 
 "No, thank you." 
 
 " Well, it is half -past ten." 
 
 When Annie was once more alone, she went on with 
 her task. The glass-cases were already too full, but 
 she packed many of her treasures in the bowls and 
 so made more room for them. Every now and then 
 she would take either a photograph or a curio to the 
 light of the lamp, in order to have a last look at it. 
 It was pitiful to see the girl's hands stripping the 
 cheerful room and preparing it for silence and deser- 
 tion. When she had put everything away from the 
 chimney-piece, the brackets, and the little tables, she 
 drew the silk curtains across the shelves of the book- 
 cases and then glanced round the room to see that 
 everything was right and as though to bid everything 
 farewell. She then went away, with a grave face, 
 little thinking that she had taken the first steps in 
 a direction which she had never intended to follow.
 
 CHAPTER II 
 
 THE Villars family occupied a prominent position 
 in New York society, even among the particular set 
 known as the " Patriarchs." They came of a race 
 known, from father to son, for its sound and somewhat 
 austere integrity. Their ancestor, the younger son 
 of an aristocratic family still existing in England, 
 had been shut up in the Tower of London, for his 
 advanced opinions. He had managed to escape and 
 had taken refuge in the New World, where he had 
 founded a family, to whom he had bequeathed his 
 republican ideas. 
 
 Annie's father, Philip Villars, had been a celebrated 
 lawyer and a man of strict integrity. He had died 
 young as the result of a hunting accident and, in his 
 will, he had expressed a wish that his daughter should 
 not go to Europe before her twenty-first birthday. He 
 had supposed, as Frank Barnett had said, that by that 
 time Annie would be married. As an American father 
 very rarely interferes with the liberty of his children, 
 he must have been very much afraid of the mamEuvres 
 of fortune-hunters. 
 
 When Annie Villars had come out, at a magnificent 
 ball, she had been classed, not among the " belles," but 
 among the girls known as " sweet," which means charm- 
 ing, and the epithet was certainly justified. She was 
 of medium height, with good figure and graceful out-
 
 20 AMERICAN NOBILITY 
 
 lines. She had an exquisite complexion, rather fair 
 dark hair, deeply tinged with gold, whilst the joy of 
 living was reflected in her brown eyes and lighted up 
 her whole face. Her features were small and the whole 
 face childlike, with a slightly retrouss6 profile and a 
 remarkable expression of force and will about the chin 
 and mouth. She rather lacked grace and gentleness. 
 Her step was short and quick, her movements brusque, 
 and her way of speaking somewhat abrupt. Her voice 
 had been cultivated and had lost that nasal intonation 
 so displeasing to English ears, but it was a little harsh 
 and monotonous. In spite of these characteristic de- 
 fects, which would only be noticed by foreigners, she 
 could be very charming. There was a something joyous 
 and brilliant about her, which gave the impression of 
 a happy, healthy, good-natured creature. 
 
 Annie Villars had grown up in a bright atmosphere, 
 without let or hindrance. Her childhood had not been 
 darkened by constant restrictions. She had always 
 been accustomed to perfect freedom, to the exercise of 
 her own will, of her faculties, and of her various tastes. 
 She had chosen her companions, her toys, her little 
 frocks, her sashes, and the ribbon for her hair. Her 
 religious devotions consisted in a short prayer, night 
 and morning, a respect for the Bible, and the observ- 
 ance of the Sabbath day. As for morality, she had 
 a horror of lies and of all vulgarity and she was 
 charitably inclined. Her daily teaching had been 
 simply the good example of the persons around her. 
 This was all, but it had sufficed for making her 
 straightforward and kind-hearted. 
 
 From the age of fourteen to eighteen, study and 
 agreeable physical exercise had kept Annie from un- 
 wholesome reverie and morbid idleness, so that she
 
 AMERICAN NOBILITY 21 
 
 had passed through this critical age and developed 
 triumphantly. 
 
 From the time she had come out, her life had been 
 a succession of festivities. In America, the real society 
 women are the young girls, as there is absolutely 
 nothing to hold them back in their ardent pursuit of 
 pleasure. They are the ones to set the fashion and 
 to lead the dance. The married women are content to 
 follow. They commence their day early. At eight 
 o'clock they are up and dressed. They partake of the 
 substantial breakfast served to the workers of the 
 family, just as the Puritan ancestors, dressed in their 
 coarse gowns and cambric fichus, did before them. As 
 soon as the men have gone to business, the girls swarm 
 into town, like so many bees. The city belongs to them 
 absolutely, and they are just as safe there as though 
 they were walking about in their own garden. They do 
 their shopping, go here or there in search of news, at- 
 tend lectures or charity meetings, lunch at each others' 
 houses, or even at a restaurant. Luncheon is specially 
 the woman's meal. After all this they go home, dress 
 for the afternoon, and pay visits or go to receptions, 
 where they meet the young men of their set. The day 
 ends with dinners, balls, theatres, etc. They have had 
 altogether some eighteen or twenty hours of pleasure. 
 
 Annie Villars was one of the most popular of New 
 York society girls. None received more homage, more 
 flowers, and more sweetmeats than she did. Ameri- 
 cans are not as disinterested nowadays as they used 
 to be. Annie's position and her great wealth had 
 something to do with her success, but her personal 
 attractions and her agreeableness were also appre- 
 ciated. She had done her share of flirting, too, but 
 always in a dignified way.
 
 22 AMERICAN NOBILITY 
 
 Flirting is no more dangerous for the American girl, 
 as a rule, than the liberty she enjoys. She has grown 
 up with the young men in her set and has known them 
 all her life. This social fraternity, added to the re- 
 spect which the American man has for women, makes 
 it impossible, or at least a very rare thing, for the 
 flirtation to be carried too far. It is merely a delight 
 ful pastime, composed of three parts of vanity and 
 only one of sentiment. Transatlantic flirtation is love 
 in very small, harmless doses, just enough to make 
 the heart beat and lend to life some emotion and 
 interest. The American woman has discovered how to 
 play with fire without burning herself. She takes the 
 best and most exquisite part of love and leaves the 
 rest, disdainfully, to women of a lower order. 
 
 In spite of all that has been said of it, flirting in 
 the United States is comparatively innocent. The 
 moral and physical education of the American man is 
 a safeguard. He sees in every girl the wife and mother, 
 the sacred institution of the family, and he dare not 
 lay a sacrilegious hand on that. He does not attempt, 
 like the European, to poetise his animal passions, as 
 he is more ashamed than proud of them. He does not 
 behave towards a woman as her master, but rather as 
 her subject. He treats her as his queen and awaits 
 from her his signal and her favours. 
 
 Flirting with girls then is carried on in a respect- 
 ful way, but flirtation with married women is quite 
 another thing, as the ever-increasing number of 
 divorces goes to prove. 
 
 Morality will have its public scandal in America, 
 and when things have come to a crisis they will be 
 readjusted. 
 
 Annie had had many admirers, but not one of them
 
 AMERICAN NOBILITY 23 
 
 had inspired her with any serious feeling of attach- 
 ment. She had a secret preference for Frank Barnett. 
 He was handsome, distinguished, and then he talked 
 in an agreeable way. As he was wealthy, he had never 
 been compelled to choose any profession and his long 
 visits to Europe had added a certain refinement to 
 his conversation and his general education. For the 
 last three years he had been Annie's knight. He had 
 kept her supplied with the rarest flowers and had 
 always reserved the best place on his mail-coach and 
 his yacht for her. For all this, he had been repaid, 
 at least, by very sincere friendship. The idea that 
 Frank might some day become her husband had often 
 occurred to her and was not at all displeasing to her 
 either. 
 
 Frank Barnett had many times been on the verge 
 of declaring his love, but, as Annie had always told 
 him that she should not marry until she had been to 
 Europe, he had always refrained. He did not care to 
 risk a refusal, for, with a knowledge of his own pride 
 and of Annie's character, he had felt that such a 
 refusal might be final. 
 
 For some years past, this trip to Europe had been 
 Annie's one desire. She must have been very devoted 
 to her father not to have resented the sacrifice he had 
 imposed on her. An American woman has the keenest 
 curiosity and Annie's had been sharpened by the stories 
 her various friends had told her. Sometimes, on 
 watching them pack or unpack, tears of envy had 
 come into her eyes. During the last three months, she 
 had been studying all the Guides, tracing a hundred 
 different routes, and, as she came of age on the 20th 
 of January, she had taken her ticket on the Bourgogne, 
 which set sail on the 25th.
 
 24 AMERICAN NOBILITY 
 
 Annie had a distant cousin, ten years older than 
 herself, who had married a Frenchman, a certain 
 Baron de Keradieu. The previous summer, this cousin 
 had spent a few weeks with Mrs. Villars at their 
 country house. She had advised Annie and her mother 
 to settle down in Paris for the season, and had promised 
 to introduce them into society there. The prospect 
 of balls and of all kinds of gaieties added consider- 
 ably to the excitement of the European trip for Annie 
 and Clara. The various warnings Annie had received 
 had the effect of making her all the more anxious to 
 meet some of the young aristocrats of whom she had 
 been told. She loved danger and, in her heart of 
 hearts, she rather hoped that she might have some 
 kind of adventure which would enable her to baffle 
 the plots of some avaricious young nobleman and show 
 him that an American girl of good family is not 
 tempted by titles. 
 
 Annie's two spinster aunts were very nervous about 
 the trip for their niece. Their fears were based on 
 certain old memories hidden away in their hearts. 
 When they had been young and pretty, very, very 
 many years ago, one of them had come near marrying 
 a Roman prince and the other a Neapolitan count. At 
 the very last moment, they had decided otherwise, for 
 they belonged to that type of American woman which, 
 at present, is almost extinct the American woman 
 who would put her Protestant faith and her country 
 above everything else in the world. 
 
 The Misses Villars had never married and they had 
 devoted themselves entirely to charitable works. They 
 did not go much into society and they were not very 
 agreeable women, but they had a great deal of influ- 
 ence, nevertheless, in social circles. It was thought a
 
 AMERICAN NOBILITY 25 
 
 great honour to know them and to be invited to their 
 house. They had simply worshipped their brother, 
 Philip. 
 
 A brother is, perhaps, the only man that the Ameri- 
 can woman spoils and respects, so that they now 
 bestowed on Annie all their affection. She always 
 knew just how to manage them and how to obtain 
 their forgiveness for her frivolity. 
 
 The idea of the possibility of their niece marrying 
 a foreigner was a great trouble to them, and all the 
 more so as they did not consider their sister-in-law 
 capable of chaperoning a young heiress in Europe and 
 protecting her from the intrigues of fortune-hunters. 
 
 Mrs. Villars was one of those spoilt children of 
 Providence, so frequently to be met with in America. 
 She had been extremely pretty. Her hair had turned 
 white at an early age, but her face had retained its 
 youthfulness, so that, with her dark eyes, beaming with 
 contentment, and her delicate, regular features, she 
 was, at the age of forty-five, still very attractive. The 
 only sorrow of her life had been the loss of her hus- 
 band. She was remarkably clever in business matters 
 and extremely practical. She was, nevertheless, as 
 simple-minded as a child, and had no idea of the depths 
 to which the human being can sink, nor of the moral 
 depravity which might surround her. She was always 
 busy from morning to night, either with her financial 
 affairs, her charities, or her social duties. She had 
 perfect health and a pleasant character and, added to 
 these advantages, an almost inexhaustible cheque-book, 
 so that she was one of the women whom people liked 
 to invite and " Aunt Mary," as Clara, and many other 
 girls called her, was very popular in New York society. 
 
 An American woman exercises little or no authority
 
 26 AMERICAN NOBILITY 
 
 over her children and, when once they are grown up, 
 she is quite willing to forget her maternal dignity and 
 to allow them to treat her as an elder sister. Between 
 Annie and her mother, there was the most charming 
 intimacy. At night, when they chatted over the events 
 of the day, they told each other everything, including 
 all that there was to tell about sundry flirtations, 
 social triumphs, etc. Mrs. Villars consulted her 
 daughter on matters of dress and about business 
 affairs. She had absolute confidence in Annie, so that 
 when the latter had said that she should never marry 
 a foreigner, her mother had no further anxiety on that 
 score. Her sisters-in-law were so persistent in their 
 predictions that, on the whole, Mrs. Villars was glad 
 to have her niece accompany them to Europe and so 
 share the responsibilities. 
 
 Clara May was four years older than Annie. She 
 was a typical American girl, physically and morally. 
 She had a dazzling complexion, exuberant spirits, and 
 not a vestige of what the French call temperament. 
 She was very straightforward, intelligent, and had no 
 sentimentality at all. Among her fixed ideas, one was 
 that America is the first country in the world, an- 
 other that we are here on this earth simply to enjoy our- 
 selves, and a third, that man was created for the sole 
 purpose of feeding, clothing, and serving woman. 
 Clara had had the satisfaction of refusing some of 
 the best offers of marriage in New York. The Ameri- 
 can girl, as a rule, is by no means anxious to make 
 a speedy marriage. The prospect of having a husband, 
 children, and a house on her hands is not very tempting 
 to a beautiful society girl, with money at her com- 
 mand. She does not accept the duties of life until 
 she has made sure of having had a great deal of its
 
 AMERICAN NOBILITY 27 
 
 pleasures. She does not, even then, consent to marry 
 a man unless she cares for him and she wants to know 
 a man well before she accepts him for her husband. 
 
 George Ottis had not allowed himself to be dis- 
 couraged by Clara's caprices. He had continued pay- 
 ing his court to her with a persistency which had 
 touched her in the end, and all the more so as he was 
 a very good-looking man. 
 
 She had accepted him at the beginning of December 
 and, as she had promised to go to Europe with her 
 cousin, the wedding had been fixed for an early date 
 after the return to America. By way of a reward for 
 his patience at the long delay, Clara had suggested to 
 her fiance that he should join them in Rome. Ever 
 since the death of her parents, Clara May had made 
 her home with Mrs. Villars. The two cousins were 
 devoted to each other. One of them was prettier and 
 more brilliant and the other was more intelligent and 
 much more wealthy, but not a shade of envy had ever 
 been mixed with their friendship. Clara intended to 
 keep a strict watch on Annie and to bring her safely 
 back to America. 
 
 There was one person in Mrs. Villars' household to 
 whom the idea of this European trip was a source of 
 unmixed joy. This person was Catherine Makay, 
 Annie's old Irish nurse. She had been with the family 
 ever since her charge was an infant in arms and had 
 gradually become the girl's friend and almost her 
 slave. Catherine was a tall, thin woman, with 
 strongly-marked and almost hard features, whose face 
 was constantly lighted up by a broad smile in which 
 was reflected all the natural tenderness and kindliness 
 of her nature. The instruction she had received had 
 been of the most elementary kind, but she had in-
 
 28 AMERICAN NOBILITY 
 
 herited a goodly share of the soul of her country, of 
 that passionate, idealistic soul which soars so readily 
 towards the infinite. 
 
 She felt nature and was drawn towards all that 
 was beautiful. She loved poetry and her memory was 
 well stored with stories, legends, and anecdotes. She 
 had a strong religious faith and American Catholicism 
 had never sufficed for her. The sermons to which she 
 listened had never given her the shudder which she 
 used to experience at the thought of the torments of 
 hell nor the thrill occasioned by the foretaste of the 
 joys of Paradise. The churches in America were all 
 too light and too new. She was longing to be able to 
 kneel down in some old cathedral, so that she might 
 feel nearer to God and to the Virgin. 
 
 Bonne, as she was called, had lavished on Annie, 
 from her very cradle, not only her time, but all the 
 treasure of her affection. The child had tormented 
 her cruelly, by her independence of character and her 
 disdain for all that was marvellous. The child only 
 cared to hear stories that were true, or that seemed 
 probable. She did not believe in fairies, thought the 
 legends were silly, and could not feel poetry at all. 
 She did not like caresses and effusions and she thought 
 grand speeches ridiculous. The most comic scenes took 
 place, constantly, between the nurse and her little 
 charge. They quarrelled, made it up and argued end- 
 lessly. The Irishwoman had nevertheless softened the 
 character of the little American girl, whilst the little 
 American girl had taught the Irishwoman to be more 
 rational, by insisting always on only listening to what 
 was true and real. 
 
 Bonne had been wildly jealous, later on, of Annie's 
 governess. In order to lessen the number of those
 
 AMERICAN NOBILITY 29 
 
 who should wait directly on her young mistress, she 
 had appointed herself her maid. In this way, it was 
 she who went to call Annie every morning and she 
 always took a few flowers on the tray with a delicious 
 cup of coffee. At night, after brushing the girl's 
 beautiful hair, she would sit by her bedside and tell 
 her things which she thought might interest her, some- 
 times things she had heard through the day and at others 
 something about which she had been reading. Annie 
 enjoyed listening to her, for the woman had a clever 
 way of telling anything. When she closed her eyes, 
 Bonne would tuck her up, kiss her, and make the 
 sign of the cross over her. And it was this humble 
 woman who succeeded in implanting in Annie's soul 
 a grain of ideality which was destined to germ and 
 blossom in Europe.
 
 CHAPTER III 
 
 HOWEVER rich they may be, American women usually 
 travel without ostentation. Mrs. Villars only took 
 with her Catherine Makay, her own maid, and a cou- 
 rier, who had travelled in that capacity with several 
 members of her family. 
 
 Following the advice of a friend, she had engaged 
 a suite of rooms on the first floor of the Hotel Cas- 
 tiglione. The proprietress, who was well-versed in the 
 American Who 's Who, knew the importance of her 
 visitors and had neglected nothing, so that their first 
 impressions should be satisfactory. When she showed 
 them into rooms that were well heated and lighted and 
 also decorated with flowers, they expressed their satis- 
 faction. Through the open doors, they caught sight 
 of a beautiful drawing-room, with painted ceiling and 
 walls hung with brocade. The bedrooms were lofty 
 and cheerful-looking, and the cloth was laid for dinner 
 in the dining-room. The open fires and the flowers 
 made everything seem so little like the ordinary hotel, 
 that the travellers at once felt quite at home. 
 
 The following morning, as soon as she was awake, 
 Annie went to the window to look at Paris. After 
 surveying the Rue de Castiglione, she glanced to the 
 left and saw the graceful spires of St. Clotilde and 
 the D6me of thfe Invalides. To the right, she had a 
 view of the Vend6me column and the top of the Opera 
 
 30
 
 AMERICAN NOBILITY 31 
 
 House. She was enthusiastic in her admiration and, 
 anxious to see more, she dressed as quickly as possible 
 and, accompanied by Clara and Bonne, went to the 
 Flower Market at the Madeleine. She bought a whole 
 basket of flowers from Nice and some plants, and then 
 returned to the hotel to complete their installation. 
 
 In spite of her love of travel, the American woman 
 is devoted to her own country and her own people 
 there. In addition to her prayer-book, her Baedeker, 
 her diary and her address-book, she carries with her, 
 all over the world, the portraits of her parents, fre- 
 quently the photograph of a favourite animal, of her 
 home, and, sometimes, an American flag, and a whole 
 crowd of objects which she considers as her household 
 gods. By means of these, she will make for herself a 
 familiar home-like atmosphere to alleviate the banality 
 of the hotel. 
 
 Mrs. Villars and the two girls arranged their writ- 
 ing-tables, reached out their personal belongings, and 
 placed flowers about here and there. A piano was 
 ordered and, in a very short time, they felt quite at 
 home and did not in the least regret the splendours 
 of their house in Washington Square. 
 
 At the end of a fortnight, Annie knew Paris better 
 than the majority of Parisian women. The friends she 
 knew in Europe were just then in Nice and Baroness 
 de Keradieu was in the country, so that she had plenty 
 of time on her hands. In the mornings, she and her 
 cousin, accompanied either by Mrs. Villars or by 
 Catherine, visited the churches, museums, and places of 
 historical interest. In the afternoons, they went shop- 
 ping and to their dressmakers and milliners, and 
 finished up with a drive. 
 
 In the evenings, they read their papers and wrote
 
 32 AMERICAN NOBILITY 
 
 letters. American women are great letter-writers. 
 They write with remarkable ease, without the slightest 
 hesitation, and without erasures. Their letters are 
 charming and are often little masterpieces. They 
 nearly all keep diaries, and these diaries are cerebral 
 photographs, developed very clearly and sharply out- 
 lined. They are full of shrewd observation and origi- 
 nal remarks, but there is no trace of any sensations. 
 A European girl would describe what she had felt, but 
 an American girl will tell what she has seen. Be- 
 tween the diary of a New York or Boston girl and 
 the diary of a Marie Bashkirtseff, there are many steps 
 of the psychological ladder. 
 
 Engravings and photographs had so familiarised 
 Annie with Paris that, wherever she went, she had the 
 sentiment of having already been there. It was a 
 keen pleasure, nevertheless, to recognise the various 
 monuments and buildings and to admire them in the 
 midst of their proper surroundings. She did not weep, 
 as Bonne did, at the sight of Napoleon's tomb and 
 Marie Antoinette's crucifix, but no historical souvenir 
 left her indifferent. 
 
 Baroness de Keradieu returned to Paris on the 15th 
 of February and she called the same day at the Hotel 
 Castiglione. After the first greetings and exchange of 
 news, she asked Annie how she liked Paris. 
 
 " I simply love it," answered the girl, " and the 
 curious part is that I feel as much at home here, as 
 though the Champs Elyses, the Boulevards, and the 
 Rue de la Paix were part of New York." 
 
 " It is a fact," said Madame de Keradieu, " that 
 American women seem less out of their element, less 
 foreign, in Paris than the majority of French pro- 
 vincial women. It really is our second home."
 
 AMERICAN NOBILITY 33 
 
 " Oh, I do not feel as Parisian as all that," put in 
 Clara, laughing. " The more I travel, the more I 
 appreciate my own country." 
 
 " I hope you do not belong to those American women, 
 who, after seeing all the treasures of the Old World, 
 declare that it is behind the times and less civilised 
 than New York, because the houses have not all electric 
 light, lifts, and baths." 
 
 " Oh, I do not go as far as that. I have all due 
 respect and admiration for Europe, but I could 
 not live over here. After I have been here a few 
 months, I begin to get cross. Everything irritates me, 
 the slowness of things and people, the routine, the petty 
 conventionalities, the necessity of being escorted about 
 in the street, and I do not feel a free creature again 
 until I set foot once more on the New York pavement." 
 
 " I must say, too," put in Annie, " that I was 
 horribly disappointed with the Faubourg St. Germain. 
 I had imagined it as one of the finest parts of Paris, 
 and it is ugly and gloomy and dreary. I would not 
 live there for the world. I should fancy myself in 
 prison behind one of its gateways." 
 
 " I like it immensely," said Madame de Keradieu, 
 smiling. " I would not change our house in the Rue 
 Vaneau for one of the finest on the other side of the 
 river. As to the inhabitants of the Faubourg, it is 
 just the same thing. They are not brilliant nor what 
 is called * up-to-date,' but they are delightful to live 
 with. Their courtesy and their perfect manners pro- 
 duce just that intangible something which is felt in 
 really good society, a something so exquisite that it 
 makes up for everything and nothing can make up for 
 its absence." 
 
 " A propos of the Faubourg," interrupted Clara May,
 
 34 AMERICAN NOBILITY 
 
 " will you tell me how it comes about that such Ameri- 
 can women as Mrs. Robinson and Mrs. Pill are received 
 there? We are more exclusive than that at home." 
 
 " And who is receiving them?" 
 
 " Oh, princesses and duchesses " 
 
 " Yes, but there are princesses and princesses, 
 duchesses and duchesses. Those who receive the people 
 you mention are only women of a lower social stand- 
 ing, women whose conduct has not been blameless, but 
 who, thanks to their skilful manoeuvring, have not 
 quite lost foothold. The real Faubourg only ex- 
 changes cards with them though. Such women have 
 recently discovered the American woman. They have 
 opened their drawing-rooms to her, hoping, in this way, 
 to attract young men and to be able to arrange wealthy 
 marriages for their relatives and friends." 
 
 " And yet, in the newspaper paragraphs of ftes 
 given by these Americans, there were really good 
 names, the names of good historical families." 
 
 " Yes, there is a certain set of young French men 
 and women, even in the aristocracy, who would like 
 to break with the old traditions and prejudices and 
 mingle with modern society. As modern society is 
 now represented by the upper middle class, they can- 
 not, and do not even wish to mix with that, and so 
 they visit foreign women. In foreign drawing-rooms, 
 young French aristocrats of this type are made much 
 of and they can do as they like and say what they 
 like there. A foreign woman does not belong to any 
 French political party, she has no family and no con- 
 nections, she can be courted or neglected. In a word, 
 she does not count." 
 
 " How flattering for the foreign woman," remarked 
 Clara, ironically.
 
 AMERICAN NOBILITY 35 
 
 " Are the dinners she gives returned ? " asked Annie. 
 
 " Oh, yes. She is invited to the big balls and soirees. 
 She is ornamental and the women who give these 
 entertainments are delighted to have her in their 
 drawing-rooms. She is never invited to their private 
 parties though. As to the real Faubourg St. Germain, 
 its doors are closed to her and I am quite sure that 
 neither Mrs. Robinson nor Mrs. Pill are known there. 
 I will introduce you to my best friend, the Duchess 
 de Blanzac, and if she takes a fancy to you, you will 
 not lack invitations." 
 
 " When does your season begin ? " 
 
 " Early in April. I hope, for your sake, that it will 
 be a brilliant one. You will not enjoy yourself as 
 much as in New York, perhaps, but at any rate you 
 will see something fresh and you will take back im- 
 pressions that your friends will not have had. There 
 are many Americans who have been living in Paris for 
 years, but who have never entered a real French home." 
 
 " Antoinette," said Clara, " I hope you are not going 
 to chaperon us, in French style." 
 
 " Do not be alarmed. I shall be only too delighted 
 for my friends here to see some well-educated American 
 girls who have always been accustomed to have 
 absolute freedom. Your own sense of propriety must 
 then be your guide. There is one thing I would 
 warn you about, though. There must be no flirting. 
 Europeans do not understand that little pastime and 
 as to Frenchmen, you must not trifle with them any 
 more than with Cupid in person." 
 
 " That does not apply to me," said Clara, pointing 
 to her ring. 
 
 " It must be difficult to flirt with foreign men," 
 remarked Annie, gravely.
 
 36 AMERICAN NOBILITY 
 
 " I advise you not to try it, at any rate." 
 
 " And now, Antoinette, will you promise one thing? " 
 asked Clara. 
 
 "What is it?" 
 
 " That you will not attempt to get Annie married 
 over here? " 
 
 " I promise that, willingly, so that you may be 
 quite tranquil on that score. I should be delighted 
 if she married a Frenchman, but I shall not help her 
 to do so, for many reasons. In the first place, your 
 aunts would never forgive me." 
 
 " And I should not either." 
 
 " How absurd you are," remarked Annie, shrugging 
 her shoulders. 
 
 " Antoinette," said Mrs. Villars, changing the sub- 
 ject, " these girls have been waiting for you before 
 they ordered their evening dresses." 
 
 " I am glad to hear it, for I enjoy choosing dresses." 
 
 " I count on you for sparing me some of this worry," 
 continued Mrs. Villars. " My French is good enough 
 for the Louvre and the Bon March6, but it will never 
 do for conversation in French society." 
 
 " Oh, we will help you. Henri will be delighted to 
 escort them to the Bois. He is quite looking forward 
 to teasing them once more." 
 
 " Oh, your husband is delightful," said Annie. 
 
 " He is not a bad sort for a Frenchman," answered 
 Madame de Keradieu, smiling. " He is coming to call 
 on you between five and six. I think he is going to 
 take us all to the theatre. The day after to-morrow, 
 we want you to come to a little informal dinner. 
 You will have to excuse the fact that the house is not 
 in order. I am very glad that we had to come back 
 earlier than usual, on account of the repairs we arc
 
 AMERICAN NOBILITY 37 
 
 having done, as it will give you an opportunity of 
 meeting a few of our friends quietly, before the season 
 commences. You will be able to get used to these 
 dreadful foreigners, in that way. I must go now, as 
 I am over head and ears in arrangements." 
 
 Annie and Clara could not have had a better cicerone 
 for introducing them into Parisian society than the 
 Baroness de Keradieu. No other American woman, 
 who had married into the French aristocracy, had de- 
 nationalised herself so well and acquired so admirably 
 the manners and tone of the Faubourg. Antoinette 
 Lindsay had been extremely beautiful. She had made 
 the acquaintance of her husband when passing a 
 winter in Rome. At that time Monsieur de Keradieu 
 was merely an attach^ to the Embassy and not at all 
 wealthy. Antoinette had only a small fortune left her 
 by her grandmother. The marriage, on both sides, had 
 been one of inclination. They had spent three years 
 in Washington, as the Baron had managed to get him- 
 self sent there, and had then returned to Paris. 
 
 Antoinette was received coldly, and even with dis- 
 trust, by her husband's family. After the birth of her 
 son, she became a Catholic. This seemed to bring her 
 nearer to her new relatives and, in the end, she won 
 their love and esteem. 
 
 The Baron's parents bought a villa at Cannes and 
 they then gave up to the young couple their chateau 
 of Moncour, in Touraine, and their town house in Paris, 
 in the Rue Vaneau. 
 
 The Keradieus were not rich enough to be able to 
 keep up much style, but their home was a most 
 agreeable one. 
 
 The Baroness was always most charming to her 
 American friends who happened to come to Paris.
 
 38 AMERICAN NOBILITY 
 
 She took them to the theatre and to the Bois, invited 
 them to her house, but she never asked for invitations 
 for them, nor did she introduce them anywhere. Dur- 
 ing her last visit to America, she had been greatly 
 annoyed and very indignant at the wrong notions 
 people had about the French aristocracy. She had 
 persuaded Annie and her cousin to come and spend 
 a season in Paris and had offered to introduce them 
 into society, hoping that, in this way, they might be 
 able to see for themselves the truth of things. It was 
 by means of this idea that Providence made use of 
 Madame de Keradieu, in the working out of Annie's 
 destiny.
 
 CHAPTER IV 
 
 THE Marquis d'Anguilhon, seated at a large Louis 
 XV. writing-desk, with a cigar between his lips and 
 a red pencil in his hand, was reckoning up his debts. 
 The drawn look on his face showed clearly enough the 
 painful effort that this task was costing him. When 
 he had jotted down the various sums taken from his 
 pocketbook and then those of a large number of bills, 
 he added them up once, and then a second time, and 
 wrote down the total in huge, maddening figures. 
 After this, he flung the pencil down, and threw all 
 the odious papers pell-mell into a drawer. Turning 
 bis armchair round towards the fireplace, he sat down 
 again, crossed his legs, gazed with a fixed expression 
 at the blaze, and was very soon entirely absorbed in 
 his reflections. The firelight played over him in the 
 most artistic way. 
 
 He was evidently a man of good lineage, a man to 
 whom the finishing touch had been given. He gave 
 the impression of extreme, and even ultra, refinement, 
 an impression not appreciated by all people. It was 
 difficult to say whether he would be called handsome. 
 The face, with its straight nose, was usually cold and 
 impassive. Life and its cares had marked it with 
 lines of force and the brown eyes would light up to 
 a golden brown under the influence of tender feeling. 
 The dark hair, dull white complexion, and tawny 
 
 39
 
 40 AMERICAN NOBILITY 
 
 moustache lent a warm colouring, whilst the high 
 forehead and full lips revealed a characteristic ming- 
 ling of the sensual and the ideal. A ring of the bell 
 interrupted the Marquis d'Anguilhon's meditations. He 
 went himself to the door and brought back into the 
 room a man of about forty years of age, of somewhat 
 vulgar appearance but with an intelligent and pleasing 
 face. The arrival of a woman for whom he cared could 
 not have delighted Jacques more than this visitor. 
 
 " Sit down there, Bontemps," he said, pointing to 
 an armchair near the fire. 
 
 " I am glad you are back, Monsieur le Marquis. 
 When I received your note, I was just going to write 
 and advise you to come back to Paris." 
 
 "Really? Why?" 
 
 " I will tell you just now. I fancy that you will 
 lead up yourself to what I have to say. Will you tell 
 me first what it is that you want at present? " 
 
 " What I want ? Why, money, of course. You know 
 that very well." 
 
 " Times are rather difficult and it is scarce, Mon- 
 sieur le Marquis." 
 
 " Money is always scarce when it is needed," said 
 Jacques, bitterly. " You are a man of resources, 
 though, and you can find me some, if you feel inclined 
 to do so." 
 
 " It is not the inclination that is lacking, you may 
 be sure. If the figure you want is not too big " 
 
 " I want a hundred thousand francs." 
 
 Monsieur Bontemps started. 
 
 " You are joking," he said. 
 
 "Not in the least. I want a hundred thousand 
 francs," the young man repeated, speaking very 
 distinctly.
 
 AMEKICAN NOBILITY 41 
 
 "And what security do you offer?" 
 
 " These pictures and tapestries and all that is here. 
 They are worth more than that sum." 
 
 "More?" 
 
 " Why, certainly. They are beautiful relics of the 
 past," said the Marquis, glancing sadly round the room 
 at the treasures in question. 
 
 " You have been gambling? " 
 
 " No, I have spent three months in Algeria, a few 
 days at Cannes with my uncle de Froissy, and I have 
 not been once to Monte Carlo. I am, nevertheless, on 
 the brink of the precipice." 
 
 "Again?" 
 
 " It is always the same thing and it always will be 
 as long as I have not a fortune in accordance with 
 my tastes and my instincts tastes and instincts which 
 I have inherited and which are older than I am myself. 
 I can feel that quite well. When Providence creates 
 beings of my stamp, it should provide them with 
 wealth, if it wants to be merciful, but it does not 
 wish to be merciful, it cannot be, for the simple reason 
 that it must have contrasts; it must have oppositions 
 for the sake of producing suffering. I give twenty 
 francs where I have not the right to spend two sous. 
 The ten thousand francs income I possess gives me 
 the opportunity of spending three times as much. I 
 have no profession, no talent to turn to account, and 
 no immediate expectation of even a legacy. On the 
 other hand, I have too much pride left to live at the 
 expense of my tradespeople and too much dignity to 
 make my living out of gambling. The poverty to 
 which I am reduced makes me nervously weak, so that 
 life does not seem worth living and the revolver will 
 probably be the end of it all. Now Bontemps, you
 
 42 AMERICAN NOBILITY 
 
 must help me, once for all, to get out of my difficulties 
 When my father died, you proved yourself to be our 
 best friend. You helped us then to keep our family 
 home and I count on you to help me now." 
 
 " In the first place, Monsieur le Marquis, I should 
 want to know what you propose doing with the hun- 
 dred thousand francs?" 
 
 " I propose paying my creditors first. I have just 
 made out the list of my debts. Here it is," con- 
 tinued the young man, taking up the paper written 
 in red pencil. " The total amount is sixty thousand 
 francs and then I should want forty thousand francs 
 for going to Africa." 
 
 "To Africa?" 
 
 " Yes. A certain Spanish proverb says : ' A poor 
 nobleman has only three paths open to him: the 
 Church, the royal household, and the sea.' I have no 
 vocation for the first, the second no longer exists in 
 our country, so that there is only the sea left. I intend 
 taking that path and am going to join an expedition 
 for exploring the left bank of the Niger." 
 
 " Mon Dieu, do you mean it? But who put that 
 idea into your head ? " 
 
 " Young Delorme, a very decent, straightforward 
 fellow, the banker's son. I saw a great deal of him 
 when we were both doing our time in the army. You 
 know, perhaps, that, to the surprise of every one, his 
 father died insolvent and it was even said that he 
 committed suicide. George gave up to the creditors 
 the money he had inherited from his mother. It would 
 have been enough to have lived upon very comfortably. 
 That will give you an idea of the sort of man he is. 
 He went out to the Soudan, and from there to Dahomey, 
 where he is at present managing a factory. He speaks
 
 AMERICAN NOBILITY 43 
 
 so enthusiastically of the work to be done in Africa, 
 that he has made me wish to take part in it. I shall 
 start with an exploring expedition and if I come back 
 safe and sound, George Delorme will put me in the 
 way of some work." 
 
 " Work ! You, Monsieur le Marquis ? " exclaimed Bon- 
 temps, with an expression of pity in his voice. " I 
 think you are capable of winning glory, but I doubt 
 if you would earn money. One cannot suddenly be- 
 come a financier, a manufacturer, a tradesman, or 
 indeed a business man of any kind without some kind 
 of apprenticeship. Whenever I see an aristocrat, who 
 knows, perhaps, no more of figures than his multiplica- 
 tion-table, rushing into the struggle for gain with 
 experienced business men, he reminds me of a cock 
 amongst a lot of foxes and I know beforehand that 
 he will soon be plucked, feathered, and devoured." 
 
 " Then what do you think a poor aristocrat should 
 do, Bontemps?" 
 
 " He should simply make a rich marriage, Monsieur 
 le Marquis." 
 
 "Like Augier's character in the play, he should marry 
 Monsieur Poirier's daughter? I have tried to bring 
 myself to follow that example, but I cannot. Marriage 
 is much more alarming than Africa." 
 
 " But supposing there were to be an exceptionally 
 favourable opportunity ? " 
 
 " Have you any one to propose, Bontemps ? " asked 
 Jacques d'Anguilhon, smiling. 
 
 " Not exactly that, but you may have heard of the 
 very wealthy American girl whom the Baroness de 
 Keradieu is introducing this season." 
 
 " No, I only arrived yesterday morning and I have 
 not seen any one yet."
 
 44 AMERICAN NOBILITY 
 
 " Well, you should have a try there. She is an only 
 child and belongs to a very good family. She will 
 have at least sixty millions." 
 
 " Sixty million francs! " exclaimed Jacques. 
 
 "Yes; that is the wife and fortune you ought to 
 have." 
 
 " I suppose she is one of the American girls in search 
 a title." 
 
 " Unfortunately she is not. She is a Protestant, very 
 devoted to her own country, and she will not marry in 
 Europe. The Due de Randan is paying great attention 
 to her at present, but all to no purpose, it appears." 
 
 "Then what chance should I have?" 
 
 " Who knows ? Perhaps Providence, whom you were 
 abusing just now, has brought this heiress from 
 America expressly for you." 
 
 " I should be very much surprised at that." 
 
 " I should not. You have too many good qualities, 
 Monsieur le Marquis, for it to be possible that your 
 race is destined to die out with you." 
 
 The young man's face lighted up with pleasure, for 
 a moment, at these words. 
 
 " Thanks, Bontemps," he said. " You are no flatterer, 
 so that the compliment is worth something coming 
 from you. But what made you think of this marriage 
 for me?" 
 
 " I can take no credit for it, as the idea was sug- 
 gested to me." 
 
 " Suggested? But is there any one else who is in- 
 terested in my business affairs, may I ask ? " asked 
 Jacques, somewhat haughtily. 
 
 " Well, you see, I have an old friend, who, in her 
 way, is a remarkable woman. Before her marriage, 
 she was a governess and companion. Her husband was
 
 AMERICAN NOBILITY 45 
 
 an aristocrat who had come down in the world and 
 was a failure as an artist, into the bargain. He had 
 the good sense, at any rate, to make his exit from 
 this world. His widow resolved to make a little for- 
 tune for herself and her two children. She began by 
 selling curiosities and all kinds of artistic things and, 
 thanks to her education and her natural aptitudes, she 
 soon became quite a connoisseur. Her business grad- 
 ually increased and she has the most astounding judg- 
 ment and sagacity, so that I have often been glad to 
 consult with her. She lends money, buys and sells 
 houses, and even looks out for heiresses for her needy 
 customers, when she thinks they are deserving. She 
 declares that she has not a single unhappy marriage 
 on her conscience. She knows people in all classes of 
 society and this fact gives her considerable influence. 
 Her private room is a veritable confessional box and 
 the poor unfortunates who go to her in their trouble 
 always get some consolation and help. I really owe 
 my present position to her, for she helped me to put 
 my foot in the stirrup. I dine with her once a week 
 and she often takes me out driving with her. The day 
 before yesterday, we were coming back from the Bois 
 when we met this heiress. My friend told me what she 
 had heard about her and she also spoke of the sensa- 
 tion that the idea of this huge fortune had made in 
 the Faubourg. All at once, she broke off and, turning 
 to me, said : { I cannot think of any one but the 
 Marquis d'Anguilhon, who is capable of carrying off 
 this golden fleece. You should write to him at once 
 and advise him to go in for it. It would be a pity 
 for all those millions to be lost to France/ " 
 
 " But does your friend know me ? " asked Jacques, 
 surprised.
 
 46 AMERICAN NOBILITY 
 
 " Oh, Madame de Lene knows every one. She must 
 have seen you, for she declares that you would make 
 an impression on this Miss Villars. This inspiration 
 of hers is, perhaps, a very happy one and, at any rate, 
 after what you have just told me, it would be worth 
 while thinking it over, would it not, Monsieur le 
 Marquis ? " 
 
 The young man was silent for a few minutes and 
 then, passing his hand over his forehead, he said 
 slowly : 
 
 " I am quite bewildered by such a proposal. You 
 see for the last few months I have been living with 
 this dream of the African expedition, and it would 
 cost me a great deal to give it up now." 
 
 " It is a dream though, as you say. It is all very 
 heroic and glorious, but it would take you very far 
 away from your own country and it often happens 
 that men do not come back from those distant lands. 
 Remember that you are the last of your family, 
 Monsieur le Marquis." 
 
 The expression of Jacques' face changed visibly and 
 his eyelids quivered. 
 
 " Take my advice," continued Bontemps, " go to the 
 Opera this evening. Miss Villars is going with Mon- 
 sieur and Madame de Keradieu. Take your best opera - 
 glasses and look at her. That will be better than all 
 my arguments. I would not go into their box though, 
 afterwards. So much depends on the introduction, 
 that it would be wiser for you to choose the time and 
 the place for yours." 
 
 " Well, I will go to the Opera, Bontemps. But 
 what about the money, what are you going to do 
 about that?" 
 
 ft I cannot think of any one but Madame de Lcne
 
 AMERICAN NOBILITY 47 
 
 who might be able to help you. If you will give me 
 permission, I will speak to her." 
 
 " Good. Do so, by all means." 
 
 " I will bring you her reply to-morrow at eleven 
 and then you might tell me what you think about 
 this marriage." 
 
 " That is what I call driving a man to extremities," 
 said Jacques, laughing. 
 
 " It is for your own good, Monsieur le Marquis, it 
 is entirely for your own good. I hope you will think 
 it over this evening and then sleep upon it, but I have 
 more faith in this evening and the Opera. Just think 
 a dowry of sixty million francs ! " With these words, 
 which he flung out like an anchor for the mind of the 
 young man to seize upon, the lawyer took his leave.
 
 CHAPTER V 
 
 JACQUES bore one of the proudest names in France, 
 a name that is to be found on every page of the annals 
 of royalty and feudalism. It is mentioned by Join- 
 ville, Froissart, Saint-Simon, and Madame de SeVigne". 
 Few families possess such glorious records as the 
 Anguilhons. During the minority of Louis XIII., a 
 d'Anguilhon had held almost royal authority, and 
 under Louis XV. the fortunes of the family attained 
 their highest prosperity. From that time forward, 
 they had gradually declined and at the present mo- 
 ment the last representative of that brilliant line owned 
 nothing but a town house, burdened with a heavy 
 mortgage, and an income which was most inadequate. 
 Jacques' lot in life seemed to give the lie to the family 
 proverb that there would always be " glory, love, and 
 money for a d'Anguilhon." 
 
 In our modern society, it is no longer a question of 
 serving the king, but of serving humanity. Every one 
 has to pay his way with his own intelligence and his 
 work. Each man must dig and delve, in order to dis- 
 cover something new and something useful, if he is to 
 win any position or wealth. 
 
 The Marquis d'Anguilhon did not belong to the race 
 of diggers and, although he was intelligent, he had 
 not the great gifts of his ancestors. The descendant 
 of those d'Anguilhons who had given such valiant 
 
 48
 
 AMERICAN NOBILITY 49 
 
 statesmen, soldiers, and savants to France had merely 
 taken his college degree and had never been able to 
 decide upon a profession. The army did not attract 
 him, as the France of to-day did not appeal to Jacques. 
 He bore his country a grudge for having given itself 
 over to the bourgeois. He considered that it had lost 
 caste and, although if need were, he would, of course, 
 help to defend France, as his family had done in 1870, 
 still he did not care, under present circumstances, to 
 serve under the Republican government. 
 
 When quite a young man, Jacques had been fully 
 aware of the progressive diminution of the family 
 fortune. He was eighteen when the Chateau de Blonay 
 had been sold and the sale of the old home, so full of 
 associations, had been a great grief to him. As long 
 as his father had lived, he had good horses, carriages, 
 and enough money at his disposal. By dint of battling 
 with his money-lenders and creditors, the old Marquis 
 had managed to keep up his house in good style. The 
 long struggle had finally killed him and when, at his 
 death, the crash came, it was more disastrous than 
 had been anticipated. 
 
 The beautiful town house was let to the Portuguese 
 Embassy. The Marchioness took refuge in a small 
 house belonging to her brother. He let it to her for 
 a nominal rent and she was only able to take with her 
 two of her old servants. Jacques had to put up with 
 just a bedroom and his uncle's studio, a room with a 
 large bay window. Thanks to some furniture and 
 tapestries that they had managed to save for him, he 
 had a very comfortable and even luxurious-looking 
 abode. 
 
 The young man was reduced to an income pro- 
 duced by a life interest in a capital of two hundred
 
 50 AMERICAN NOBILITY 
 
 thousand francs, which one of his great aunts had left 
 him. She had been the bogey of his childhood and, in 
 her will, she had left this money to him " for cigars 
 or bread." 
 
 Jacques had, therefore, had to learn what poverty 
 meant and he had suffered cruelly. His suffering had 
 been that of a person accustomed always to walking 
 on soft carpets and suddenly obliged to go a long dis- 
 tance, barefooted, over cold, sharp pebbles. Jacques' 
 feet did not get hardened and, consequently, they bled 
 all the time. His poverty wounded his pride and tor- 
 tured his heart. It made his face look old, took the 
 light out of his eyes, and gradually he became hard, 
 bitter, and thoroughly unhappy. His suffering was 
 quite as much on his mother's account as on his own. 
 
 The Marchioness had not managed to keep her hus- 
 band's affection a very long time, but her maternal 
 love had been her safeguard and her one joy. The 
 passion she had put into this had been repaid by 
 Jacques with a filial love which was certainly more 
 intense than any other feeling in his nature. The 
 thought of his mother being deprived of the luxury 
 to which she had always been accustomed weighed 
 heavily on his mind, and he was simply amazed at 
 her resignation. In her modest home, in the Rue de 
 Bellechasse, she seemed to him more dignified than 
 in her former surroundings. He was surprised to see 
 how easily she moved about in such limited space. 
 When he was in Paris, he always lunched with her 
 and, later on in the day, between six and seven o'clock, 
 he would call in again, tell her what he had been 
 doing, and they would perhaps have a little music 
 together. They both enjoyed this hour thoroughly. 
 When he had anything to annoy him, he would sit
 
 AMERICAN NOBILITY 51 
 
 down at his mother's feet, rest his head against her, 
 and remain there sometimes, absolutely silent. She 
 never asked him any questions, at such times, but she 
 would talk to him gently about her own hopes for 
 the future and the reasons she had to believe that 
 there were better days in store for them. She would 
 speak, too, of her confidence in God, and with such 
 sincere conviction that her son always left her with 
 fresh courage and a lighter heart. 
 
 After the settlement of his father's affairs, Jacques 
 had left Paris, not intending to return there, except 
 from time to time to see his mother. He had wan- 
 dered about for some time, without any fixed plan, 
 but had gradually begun to long for his old haunts 
 and the society to which he had been accustomed. He 
 had been welcomed back again, for he was on friendly 
 terms with half the Faubourg and then, too, his name 
 counted for something. He might very easily have 
 spent six months of the year as a guest at some of 
 the best chateaux of France, hunting or shooting as 
 the case might be, but, under present circumstances, 
 he did not care to accept hospitality outside his own 
 family circle, or that of a few very intimate friends. 
 
 For a time he had entertained the idea of marrying 
 some wealthy girl in his own set, but a large fortune 
 would have been necessary and large fortunes are rare 
 in the Faubourg. He had then thought of an Ameri- 
 can wife, after the style of the Baroness de Keradieu, 
 and he had even ventured to suggest the idea to the 
 Marchioness Taller, a Boston woman who already had 
 several Franco- American marriages on her conscience. 
 A few months later, she had introduced him to a Miss 
 Ellis, an orphan, who was very pretty, who had ten 
 million francs, and who wanted to marry a man with
 
 52 AMERICAN NOBILITY 
 
 a title. She was charmed with Jacques and, having 
 decided that she would accept him, she considered that 
 he must first go through his probation. The American 
 woman is always too practical to be thoroughly gen- 
 erous and everything with her must pay. It is very 
 probable that even in the next world she will take 
 steps to be sure of getting full value for her money. 
 
 Miss Ellis, therefore, began the great game of flirta- 
 tion with Jacques. She expected him to be here, there, 
 and everywhere. Now that she knew a Marquis, she 
 wanted to show him off, to have him always in attend- 
 ance on her. She accepted his flowers, but was ex- 
 tremely capricious, encouraging him one day and 
 discouraging him the next. Jacques thought this con- 
 duct horribly vulgar and he soon showed that he did 
 not care to be any woman's plaything and thereupon 
 turned his back on Miss Ellis and her millions. 
 
 The Count de Froissy, his mother's brother, had no 
 children, so that he might very easily have helped his 
 nephew, but Jacques' uncle considered that the An- 
 guilhons had never had the slightest idea of the value 
 of money and he wished his nephew to have some ex- 
 perience of the pinch of poverty. The Countess de 
 Froissy was Jacques' godmother and his mother's best 
 friend. She occasionally gave her nephew a few bank- 
 notes of a thousand francs to spend in travelling and 
 this was certainly an excellent inspiration. 
 
 When abroad, Jacques felt that his poverty was not 
 so hard to bear. Whilst staying at hotels, it always 
 seemed to him that the existing conditions of his life 
 were only momentary. He visited Egypt, Turkey, and 
 Russia and became quite fond of travelling. 
 
 As he was thrown a great deal on his own resources, 
 Jacques began to read eagerly and his reading put
 
 AMERICAN NOBILITY 53 
 
 him in touch with ideas that were quite new to him. 
 He was amazed, somewhat disturbed, but nevertheless 
 interested. His mental horizon gradually became 
 wider, and the Faubourg St. Germain, which he had 
 hitherto always considered as the Holy Ark, now ap- 
 peared to him as a very small and comparatively un- 
 important chapel. Among the young men of the 
 aristocracy, not one had been more exclusive and 
 more rigid than Jacques. Nothing outside his own 
 immediate little circle had ever inspired him with 
 either curiosity 01* interest. Politics were simply 
 odious to him. He did just know the name of 
 the President, but he had never known the names of 
 the Ministers. From the time that the men of his 
 world were no longer at the helm, the ship of France 
 might weather any storms without this affecting him. 
 The little he knew of things generally, he owed to 
 the Figaro and the Gaulois, as those two papers man- 
 age to make their readers absorb a certain amount of 
 contemporary history, literature, and science daily. 
 As to modern society, he knew something of the upper 
 middle class, but he did not frequent it and he heartily 
 detested it. The idea of its possessing chateaux, race- 
 horses, and studs made him feel something akin to the 
 sentiment which big children experience when the little 
 ones get hold of their toys. At the Opera, when he 
 saw the wives of well-known financiers somewhat over- 
 dressed and wearing too many diamonds, he would 
 smile disdainfully, and he felt an almost wicked satis- 
 faction on seeing the sons of these people already 
 going to the bad, thanks to the pace at which they 
 were living. 
 
 When travelling, Jacques had met with savants and 
 men who worked hard. When with them he had felt
 
 54 AMERICAN NOBILITY 
 
 his own inferiority most keenly, and had fully realised 
 where the power of the ruling class of to-day lay. 
 
 At Brussels, he had happened to come across the 
 army comrade of whom he had spoken to Monsieur 
 Bontemps. The young man told him that he was start- 
 ing for the Soudan, where he had obtained a post as 
 manager of an important factory. He hoped to win 
 both money and glory the money in order to pay off 
 his father's creditors and the glory for the sake of 
 clearing the old family name from the discredit of the 
 failure. 
 
 He spoke enthusiastically of Africa and of his future. 
 He considered that it was the work of a true patriot 
 to spread the influence of France and to open up new 
 channels- for its commerce. He was bold enough to 
 express his surprise that the young men of the aris- 
 tocracy were not tempted to go out there in search of 
 adventure and even to organise exploring expeditions. 
 
 The Marquis was greatly impressed by George De- 
 lorme's words. They seemed to touch the chords of 
 heroism and of patriotism which existed in the young 
 man's soul, just as they had existed in the soul of 
 every member of the Anguilhon family. His whole 
 face lighted up and there was a bright gleam in his 
 eyes as he listened. When his friend left him, he was 
 greatly excited and he spent a great part of the night 
 thinking things over. 
 
 Thanks to the impression he had received, a brilliant 
 idea had suddenly come to him. Why should not he 
 enter the ranks of those explorers who are quite as 
 much the glory of their country as the savants and the 
 artists? It required quite as much courage to risk 
 death in the wilds of Africa as on the battlefield. His 
 bravery had never been put to any severe test, but he
 
 AMERICAN NOBILITY 55 
 
 knew that he was brave. One of his ancestors had 
 been with St. Louis to Tunis and was killed there. It 
 would be a worthy epilogue to the family history if 
 he, the last of the Anguilhons, should die whilst on an 
 exploring expedition in Africa. He remembered the 
 strange fascination which some African photographs, 
 he had seen in a shop window in the Rue de Solferino, 
 had exercised over him. He wondered if that were not 
 a sign that he was destined to live his life out there? 
 Those wonderful photographs taken in Dahomey, in 
 the Soudan, had given him a sensation of dazzling 
 light and of intense heat. He could recall that sen- 
 sation now and it was with that light in his eyes that 
 he fell asleep. 
 
 The following day, he informed George Delorme of 
 his intention to go to Africa and asked him to help 
 him to find out how he could go. His friend told him 
 that there was a question of sending out a scientific 
 and political mission to the left bank of the Niger, 
 and that it would probably be entrusted to a certain 
 Captain Richard, a man of great experience. George 
 Delorme added that by applying at once, through 
 some one influential, to the Colonial Minister, he might 
 possibly get the second post in this expedition. 
 Jacques was most eager to obtain this, as a dangerous 
 and far-distant voyage appealed to him. 
 
 His friend promised to keep him well posted and to 
 do all in his power for him. 
 
 The two young men spent a week together in 
 Brussels. They talked constantly of Africa, made 
 wonderful plans, and encouraged each other as much 
 as possible. When they parted, they shook hands with 
 each other heartily, as though sealing a compact. 
 
 The Marquis returned to Paris, full of en-
 
 56 AMERICAN NOBILITY 
 
 thusiasm and as impatient as a child to carry out 
 his plan. 
 
 The thought of the sorrow he would cause his mother 
 somewhat disturbed his mind. He wondered whether 
 it would be better not to speak to her of his intentions 
 until the last moment, or to tell her at once, and, 
 finally, he decided on the latter course. 
 
 The very day after his return to Paris, he accord- 
 ingly announced his decision. The Marchioness was 
 very brave over it, and even experienced a certain 
 pride on hearing that her son was at last seized with 
 a desire to take up some work and to win glory. 
 
 " If it is God's will," she said, simply, " that you 
 should leave me, He will give me strength to bear 
 your absence and your departure. Until then I can 
 go on hoping." 
 
 Jacques then informed his uncle of his intentions. 
 Monsieur de Froissy congratulated him warmly and 
 promised to take the necessary steps in order to 
 obtain for him a creditable post in the expedition. 
 
 George Delorme kept his word. He wrote to Jacques 
 once a fortnight, in order to keep him posted, and his 
 letters served to keep up the enthusiasm. Jacques 
 opened them with as much emotion as though they 
 were love letters. His hands trembled with excite- 
 ment as he tore the envelope and he read them over 
 and over again. They inspired him with an ever- 
 increasing curiosity about Africa. That mysterious 
 country fascinated him now just as some woman, 
 reputed to be dangerous and different from any other, 
 might have done. 
 
 In order to calm his impatience, he had started for 
 Algeria in January, and had spent two months in 
 the South there. He had been training himself to all
 
 AMERICAN NOBILITY 57 
 
 kinds of privations and had gone on long walking 
 expeditions. He had tried the strength of his muscles 
 and of his constitution and had been proud to find 
 they bore the test well. 
 
 In March, he had received a letter from George, 
 telling him that the expedition to the left bank of 
 the Niger was now finally settled. He spoke with 
 great admiration of Captain Richard, to whom the 
 mission was entrusted, and he urged upon Jacques 
 the necessity of applying at once if he really wished 
 to join it. 
 
 The young Marquis at once left Biskra and went 
 straight to his uncle's estate, the Chateau de St. 
 Michel, near Cannes. He talked things over with him 
 and it was decided that his uncle should at once make 
 the necessary application. Jacques then returned to 
 Paris to put his affairs in order. He had debts, of 
 course, as a member of his family without debts had 
 never been known. A few wild extravagances, of one 
 kind or another, the difficulty he had in denying him- 
 self anything, had plunged him into financial diffi- 
 culties. He had written to Bontemps and the worthy 
 lawyer had shown him a much more easy way out of 
 his difficulties. Here was a possible marriage with a 
 dowry of sixty million francs. 
 
 The idea of such an enormous fortune somewhat 
 dazzled him. It brought him down to earth again 
 from the more elevated regions in which he had been 
 living in his dreams. 
 
 Sixty millions! It meant peace and happiness for 
 his mother, the restoration of their fallen fortunes, the 
 probable continuation of their race. He could live at 
 Blonay again and it meant all the power and luxury 
 that he loved, and all this a woman could give him.
 
 58 AMERICAN NOBILITY 
 
 His thoughts went back to Miss Ellis and, in comic 
 dismay, he asked himself what this heiress might want 
 in return for her money. 
 
 Although Monsieur Bontemps had spoken of Madame 
 de Lene in a very tactful way, Jacques understood 
 that, among her various other occupations, she served 
 as a matchmaker and that her services were not en- 
 tirely disinterested. The idea of having recourse to 
 a matrimonial agent was so repugnant to him, that 
 twice over he said aloud : " No, no, it is quite 
 impossible." 
 
 He then tried to take up the thread once more of 
 his dream of adventure and glory, but he could not. 
 It all seemed vague and unreal, like a dream that 
 vanishes when we are roused too suddenly. His mind, 
 too, was full of the thought of the sixty millions and 
 of all that it would mean. 
 
 " I will go and see this American girl, at any rate," 
 he said to himself. " Perhaps she will inspire me 
 with an invincible dislike. Everything would then be 
 easy and I should not have the slightest regret at 
 throwing such a chance away." 
 
 When once he had made up his mind, Jacques dressed 
 quickly and went straight to the box-office at the 
 Opera. He examined the plan and chose a good place 
 for his observations. He took a seat in one of the 
 boxes on the third floor, one of those boxes in the side 
 gallery. He knew that by sitting at the back, in the 
 shade, he could look down into the Keradieu's box, 
 without being seen himself. 
 
 Bontemps' suggestion had disturbed his mind to 
 such a degree that he was in a highly nervous state 
 all the rest of the day. He had the greatest difficulty 
 in concealing his agitation from his mother. In order
 
 59 
 
 not to meet any of his friends, he knew that he must 
 go to the Opera either very early or quite late. He 
 chose the latter alternative, as he felt too impatient to 
 wait there long. 
 
 He was as slow as possible over dinner and then he 
 went for a drive to the entrance to the Bois. At half- 
 past ten, he went quietly to the box he had chosen, 
 and, taking out his opera-glass, proceeded to look 
 round the house. He soon saw that the Baron de 
 Keradieu and his wife were in their box in the lower 
 circle, but to his consternation, instead of the one 
 American girl he had expected to see, there were two. 
 
 Bontemps had not foreseen this possibility and he 
 had not described the heiress. Jacques was greatly 
 perplexed. He looked at Clara first and did not care 
 for her at all. She was too tall, too pink and white, 
 and reminded him distinctly of Miss Ellis. He thought 
 Annie was charming. He noticed the whiteness of her 
 skin, the smallness of her mouth, and her pretty figure. 
 He kept his glasses fixed on her, examining her in the 
 most merciless way and trying to guess her character. 
 He came to the conclusion that she would make a very 
 presentable Marchioness d'Anguilhon and that he 
 would be quite capable of falling in love with her. If 
 she should prove to be Miss Villars, the question was 
 what should he do? 
 
 Jacques was just in the right frame of mind for 
 thinking of marriage. His heart was quite free and 
 ready for any serious attachment. 
 
 At twenty-one, he had had a very passionate love- 
 affair and this had died away, after consuming all his 
 youthful ardour. Since then, he had had various fleet- 
 ing fancies, but they had never been of long duration. 
 He was one of those men who seem destined to attract
 
 60 AMERICAN NOBILITY 
 
 women's love. His poverty and his anxiety about the 
 future had also prevented him from committing himself 
 seriously. 
 
 On leaving the Opera that night, he was a prey to 
 the most cruel indecision. He went straight home, 
 as he wanted to shut himself up and think matters 
 out. To go to bed was quite out of the question, so 
 he set a light to his fire, and, with a cigar between 
 his lips, sat down to ask himself, in the silence of the 
 night, what he was going to do. The choice lay be- 
 tween marriage and Africa. When he decided on 
 marriage, the exploring expedition seemed to him most 
 fascinating, but five minutes later, he had a vision of 
 Miss Villars and her millions. All night long, one of 
 those royal battles was waged in the young man's mind 
 which must delight the gods, one of those battles be- 
 tween the higher and the lower sentiments, between 
 the best and the worst of human nature. 
 
 When day began to break, Jacques' face bore traces 
 of this struggle and, from its expression, it was very 
 evident that there had been a moral defeat. He had 
 chosen the wealthy marriage. 
 
 " I must go with the times," he had said to himself. 
 " A dowry of sixty million francs is not to be met 
 with every day. If I do not succeed there, I shall 
 have Africa to fall back upon." 
 
 And so he had gone with the times, when it would 
 have been finer not to have gone with them. Yes, 
 Africa and its dangers are always there, but the fact 
 that he had not preferred them to money had lowered 
 him in his own estimation. 
 
 When he had finally made up his mind, he went to 
 bed. 
 
 " I wonder what my fate is to be? " he asked himself
 
 AMERICAN NOBILITY 61 
 
 once more. " If I am to marry this American girl, 
 then why, for the last nine months, has this other 
 affair been allowed to haunt me? If, on the other 
 hand, I am to take part in this African expedition, 
 why should the idea of this marriage have been put 
 into Madame de Lene's mind? What is the good of it 
 all, I wonder?" 
 
 With this question on his lips, Jacques went to sleep. 
 
 What is the good of it all? We cannot tell and yet 
 everything is good. There is nothing useless in the 
 moral world any more than in the material world. 
 Unrealised dreams, impotent desires, apparently fruit- 
 less efforts, and the most fleeting thoughts are all the 
 threads which serve to weave human lives, to shade 
 and diversify them, and to bind them to each other, 
 and it is only the study of these Invisibles that can 
 teach us how and whither we are led. 
 
 Before Jacques had finished dressing, his lawyer 
 arrived. 
 
 " Ah, you gave me a nice riddle to solve," said the 
 young man, concealing his anxiety with a smile. 
 " There were two American girls with the Keradieus, 
 last night. How do you suppose I could tell which was 
 which?" 
 
 " Sapristi" exclaimed Bontemps. " I completely 
 forgot the cousin. Well, Monsieur le Marquis, which 
 do you want to be Miss Villars? " 
 
 " The shorter of the two, of course. The one with 
 the dark blond hair." 
 
 " Then you are in luck." 
 
 "Is she the one? Are you sure?" asked the Mar- 
 quis, with evident emotion. 
 
 " I am quite sure." 
 
 " Thank God. The other one would not hare suited
 
 62 AMERICAN NOBILITY 
 
 me at all. I should have always looked as though I 
 were going about with the American flag." 
 
 " Well, that would not be very bad company." 
 
 " No, but I should prefer a wife of a less pronounced 
 type. I like the looks of Miss Villars." 
 
 " Then you have made up your mind, I hope." 
 
 The colour came into Jacques* face and he only 
 replied by a nod. 
 
 " I congratulate you," said Monsieur Bontemps. 
 
 " No need," replied the young man drily. 
 
 " Excuse me, but it is certainly the wisest step you 
 could take." 
 
 " I only regret that I am not capable of certain 
 follies." 
 
 " And I, Monsieur le Marquis, I only hope you may 
 succeed as regards this marriage, for I heard some 
 bad news, yesterday. The Portuguese Embassy is to 
 have a house of its own, so that your lease will not 
 be renewed. You would find it very difficult to let 
 your house, on account of the high rent, so that you 
 might have to sell it." 
 
 " That is the last straw," said Jacques with an 
 ironical smile. 
 
 " After things have been at their worst, they must 
 get better," remarked the lawyer, encouragingly. 
 
 " And what are we going to do about these debts? " 
 asked Jacques. *' I must have my mind at rest, if I 
 am to make love. You know how nervous I am. If 
 I get a bill that I cannot pay, I am bad-tempered all 
 day long. Have you spoken to your friend ? " 
 
 " Yes, she will lend you a hundred thousand francs. 
 The only thing is, she insists, absolutely, on two 
 conditions, if she is to lend you the money." 
 
 " And what are they ? "
 
 AMERICAN NOBILITY 63 
 
 " In the first place, you must give up your exploring 
 expedition and devote yourself entirely to Miss Villars. 
 Then you must talk to the Duchess de Blanzac and 
 get her to take this marriage in hand." 
 
 " Does Madame de Lene know the Duchess de 
 Blauzac ? " asked Jacques, in amazement. 
 
 " Very well indeed. She was once companion to her 
 aunt and she now advises her in all her business 
 matters." 
 
 The Marquis d'Anguilhon strongly objected to the 
 idea of making use of the Duchess de Blanzac in this 
 affair. " I should prefer asking the Keradieus to help 
 me," he said. " The Baron is one of my greatest 
 friends and his wife has always been extremely kind 
 to me." 
 
 " They would not be able to help you at all in this 
 matter. The Duchess de Blanzac seems to have taken 
 a great fancy to Miss Villars. She invites her often 
 and probably knows her thoroughly well by now. She 
 will very likely be able to give you a few hints about 
 her character, which will help you to act in the best 
 way possible. Do not make any mistake about it. 
 You will have no easy task if you are to win this girl." 
 
 " So much the better, it will be all the more inter- 
 esting," answered Jacques. 
 
 " So much the worse, you mean," said the practical 
 Bontemps. " At any rate, you will need a friend at 
 court. Madame de Blanzac influences every one who 
 approaches her. She is a very shrewd and very intelli- 
 gent woman of the world. Madame de Lene is con- 
 vinced that you would never succeed without her help, 
 and that is why she asks you to allow yourself to be 
 guided by her." 
 
 " But supposing that she should refuse to help me? "
 
 64 AMERICAN NOBILITY 
 
 " Oh, it is your affair to persuade her, and I should 
 advise you not to lose a moment. Try to see the 
 Duchess de Blanzac this very day and let me know 
 the result. I will tell Madame de Lene, so that she 
 may make the necessary arrangements for advancing 
 you the hundred thousand francs." 
 
 " At what interest will she lend the money?" 
 
 " At the usual rate, six per cent." 
 
 "And how much is her advice to cost me?" asked 
 Jacques, slightly embarrassed. 
 
 " Twenty-five thousand francs." 
 
 " Very cheap," remarked Jacques. 
 
 " Very cheap," repeated the lawyeivcurtly. 
 
 " I am very much afraid, Bontemps, that you and 
 Madame de Lene are leading me on to what will prove 
 to be a failure and a disappointment." 
 
 " I should be very sorry, myself, if your words proved 
 to be true. Whenever I see one of our old monuments 
 disappear, or one of our old families die out, it seems 
 to me that France is losing some of her glory. I 
 should consider myself very lucky, if, through any 
 help of mine, your house should be restored. And 
 now we must go to work. Do not forget to call at 
 my office, or to send me a line, when you have seen 
 the Duchess de Blanzac." 
 
 When he had reached the door, Bontemps turned 
 round and faced Jacques. 
 
 " I have an idea that this marriage will take place. 
 Madame de Lene brings good luck to people." 
 
 " Well, we shall see," answered Jacques.
 
 CHAPTER VI 
 
 AMONG the women of the Faubourg St. Germain, the 
 Duchess de Blanzac stood out like a figure in relief, 
 and this relief was due to the contrasts in her own 
 nature. 
 
 Her mother had been of exceedingly fair complexion 
 and her father very dark. Their two temperaments 
 were discernible in her. By her lithe and supple 
 figure and her sapphire eyes she was " blonde," whilst 
 from her father she had inherited her thick chestnut 
 hair, streaked with dull gold tints, her warm white 
 complexion, and her vigour. She had a strongly de- 
 fined, hard profile, an intellectual face with beautiful, 
 sad eyes, a sensitive mouth, with strongly marked 
 corners, which betrayed her most fleeting impressions. 
 
 Tall and slender, with a long waist and rather 
 sloping shoulders, Christiane seemed to have been cast 
 in the mould of antique times. There was an uncon- 
 scious pride about her. She carried her head well 
 and her deportment was admirable. It was as though 
 she possessed what American women, curiously enough, 
 call " royal muscle." 
 
 Whenever she appeared at any gathering, all eyes 
 turned towards her and kept looking at her again, as 
 though fascinated by her charm. No one thought of 
 what she was wearing, but everything she wore looked 
 
 s 65
 
 6(1 AMERICAN NOBILITY 
 
 well on her. She was not " chic," but she had the 
 true elegance, which is personal and can never be 
 imitated. 
 
 In her character, as in her temperament, there 
 seemed to be a mixture of the brunette and the blonde, 
 of strength and gentleness. Her brain was intensely 
 active, whilst her imperious nature was made to rule, 
 to command. Education and convention had taught 
 her self-restraint, but not submission. She had a 
 loving heart, but no love, an ardent soul with no 
 religion, brilliant faculties, and no use for them. 
 Christiane should have felt the breath of the Renais- 
 sance blowing over her; she would have been in her 
 element amid the political and religious passions of 
 the sixteenth century. She was not fitted for the nar- 
 row circle in which our modern great ladies live their 
 lives. Unconsciously urged on by her ideas and her 
 sentiment, she would leave the beaten track occasion- 
 ally and accomplish some generous act, or give way 
 to some enthusiastic impulse. She was then taxed 
 with being eccentric, for even those who loved her 
 best did not thoroughly understand her. 
 
 The Duchess de Blanzac had not only two tempera- 
 ments, with which to contend. She came of two races, 
 which were in direct contrast with each other. Her 
 mother was descended from one of those French dukes 
 who signed their name, adding " by the grace of God,'* 
 just as the king did, whilst her father was a son of 
 Basque peasants, but a peasant's son for whom Provi- 
 dence had reserved a brilliant destiny. His parents 
 had been drowned on their way out to Brazil. The 
 boy had been rescued and, later on, adopted by one 
 of the passengers, Baron Soria, a Portuguese banker, 
 living at Rio de Janeiro. After the death of his
 
 AMERICAN NOBILITY 67 
 
 benefactor, who left him not only his name, but his 
 fortune, he came to Paris to settle down. He was, 
 at first, treated rather as a foreign parvenu, but hav- 
 ing, on several occasions, proved himself not only a 
 good Frenchman, but a man who did honour to his 
 country, he was finally received everywhere. When he 
 met Gabrielle d'Aranc.ay, Christiane's mother, he fell 
 passionately in love with her. Although belonging to 
 a very good, old family, the girl had a very insignifi- 
 cant dowry and she was also an orphan, living with 
 an aunt who did not make her very welcome. Neither 
 her birth nor her beauty had sufficed for procuring a 
 husband for her of her own rank. Baron Soria was 
 a good-looking man and there was nothing vulgar 
 about him, either in his appearance or manners. He 
 had a large fortune and was considered a good match, 
 so that when he asked for Gabrielle's hand, he was 
 not refused. The girl was now twenty-five years of 
 age and had lost some of her early illusions, so that 
 she was willing to consent to a mesalliance, which 
 would, at any rate, give her wealth and so help her 
 to realise some of her dreams. 
 
 After three years of married life, Baroness Soria 
 d'Arangay died, leaving a little daughter. Baron 
 Soria asked his wife's eldest sister, the Countess de 
 Creil, for whom he had the greatest respect, if she 
 would not take little Christiane to live with her. 
 
 " I could bring up a boy better than you could," he 
 said, " but a girl alarms me. I could never make a 
 grande dame of her and, to my way of thinking, a 
 grande dame is perfection." 
 
 The Count and Countess de Creil had no children 
 of their own and, very willingly, undertook to bring 
 up their little niece.
 
 68 AMERICAN NOBILITY 
 
 Baron Soria sold his house in the Faubourg St. 
 Honor6 and only took a bachelor's flat in Paris. Then, 
 as though the love of the soil, inherent in his race, had 
 suddenly awakened within him, he bought a large 
 estate near Sevres, which he converted into a model 
 farm and a wonderful rose plantation. This country 
 place became a sort of open-air nursery for little 
 Christiane. 
 
 Although he had confided his daughter to the 
 Countess de Creil, Monsieur Soria took a lively in- 
 terest in her education. Every day, in all weathers, 
 the child was taken to " La Rosette," as the estate 
 was named. 
 
 Her old nurse was installed there with her family. 
 Christiane was immediately dressed in simple gar- 
 ments, thick or thin, according to the weather, and 
 then, with strong shoes on her feet, allowed to have 
 full liberty. As Baron Soria took a daily walk to 
 the farm, he conducted Christiane back with him to 
 Paris. Sometimes he spent the whole afternoon with 
 her. Whilst grafting and pruning his rose-trees, he 
 talked to her of Brazil, or of his various travels, and 
 taught her a quantity of things. The child simply 
 adored her father. She understood and liked his 
 strength. When he put his arm round her and drew 
 her to him, she used to tell him that she felt as though 
 his arm was round her for the rest of the day. 
 
 If Christiane had been brought up in a convent, or 
 amid very severe surroundings, with her refined and 
 nervous temperament and her mind brimful of senti- 
 ment, she would have become either a mystic or men- 
 tally unhinged. The country life saved her from this. 
 It was a moral and physical tonic for her, and she 
 inhaled life and health through all her pores.
 
 AMERICAN NOBILITY 69 
 
 At the age of eighteen, Mademoiselle Soria d'Arangay 
 made her first appearance in society and the event 
 created quite a sensation. All who approached her 
 felt her charm and her superiority. 
 
 The Duke de Blanzac, the wealthiest and most in- 
 fluential man of the Faubourg, and a grand seigneur 
 in the full acceptation of the term, fell hopelessly in 
 love with her. The first time he saw her cross the room 
 he was fascinated by her and he watched her every 
 movement. When he realised that he was in love with 
 her he could scarcely believe his own heart. He was 
 forty-five and thought he had finished with sentiment. 
 He proposed and, to the great surprise of Christiane's 
 friends and relatives, she accepted. The reason was 
 that the Duke had won her heart as a child. She 
 had often admired his fine horsemanship and his dig- 
 nified bearing. Later on, she thought him far superior 
 to the younger men. His manners were so courtly, 
 and then, too, he was so refined. Baron Soria raised 
 some objection, on account of the disparity of age, but 
 it was all in vain, as Christiane declared that he was 
 the only man she could care for and the only one who 
 inspired her with respect. She was ambitious and 
 liked power, so that, before anything else, she wanted 
 as high a position, in fact, as it was possible for her 
 to have. She felt that she had been created for this. 
 Her marriage with the Duke placed her in the highest 
 rank, the rank that her mother's family had occupied, 
 and this gave her immense satisfaction. 
 
 The marriage was a very happy one. The Duchess 
 de Blanzac was able to lead the brilliant existence 
 for which she had always longed. She was a great 
 social success and had joy of every kind, except that 
 of motherhood. She was greatly flattered and courted,
 
 70 AMERICAN NOBILITY 
 
 but no inaii succeeded in disturbing the equanimity of 
 her life. Monsieur de Blanzac neglected nothing that 
 might serve to help him in keeping his own prestige, 
 and "handsome Jean," even when married, won the 
 day over all his rivals. His wife's faithfulness was 
 certainly his greatest triumph. 
 
 Christiane would probably have discovered, ulti- 
 mately, the shallowness of her husband's mind and, 
 when once she had awakened to this, her love might 
 have ceased. They were both of them spared such a 
 calamity, as the Duke died after six years of mar- 
 riage. The memory of him, and her deep and sincere 
 grief, influenced Christiane's after-life. As her hus- 
 band had no direct heir, he left his wife the full 
 control and use of all his wealth. If she should marry 
 again, the title and fortune would revert to Count 
 Louis de Challans, a distant cousin, who was very poor 
 and, at that time, a sub-lieutenant in an artillery regi- 
 ment. If the Duchess remained a widow, she was to 
 take the rank of Dowager Duchess at the age of forty- 
 five and put the heir indicated into possession. The 
 said heir was then to pay her an annual income of 
 a hundred thousand francs. If the Count de Challans 
 were to commit any dishonourable deed, and so render 
 himself unworthy of bearing the Blanzac name, the 
 Duchess had the right and the power to disinherit 
 him, in favour of any of the other cousins she should 
 think most worthy. It was not considered likely, 
 however, that such a contingency would arise. 
 
 Christiane considered this will the most flattering 
 proof of esteem she had ever had, and she had felt a 
 private satisfaction at the thought that she was capable 
 of justifying her husband's confidence in her. 
 
 Providence took away from the Duchess, one after
 
 AMERICAN NOBILITY 71 
 
 another, those who loved her best and who were the 
 dearest to her. Only a few months after her hus- 
 band's death, she lost her father and then her aunt 
 de Creil. All this meant absolute desolation to her, 
 as, at the age of twenty-five, she found herself alone 
 in the world, without any near ties, and burdened 
 with all the responsibilities of high rank and a huge 
 fortune. 
 
 She placed herself under the protection of her uncle, 
 the Count de Creil. There was a detached house at 
 the end of her own garden. She had this fitted up 
 for him, so that he might feel quite at home and that 
 she should know he was quite near to her. He was 
 a distinguished writer and his historical and literary 
 articles were published in the best reviews. Besides 
 this, he had a certain authority in his quality of noble- 
 man and perfect gentleman, so that no one could have 
 been better qualified to act as her guide and pro- 
 tector. She had been more or less his pupil, for it 
 was he who had directed her studies and turned her 
 thoughts, as it were, towards the light. 
 
 After her marriage, he had naturally lost some of 
 his influence with her and he had very much- feared 
 that social life might make her less broad-minded, so 
 that he could not help feeling a certain joy when she 
 came under his care once more. 
 
 The grief which Christiane felt after her successive 
 losses did not fail to react on her physically. Anaemia 
 began its work of destruction, bringing in its train 
 sleeplessness, languidness, a distaste for everything, 
 and morbid thoughts. Her large, blue eyes shone with 
 sleeplessness, her lips lost their colour, and it seemed 
 to be a great effort to her to move about. The Count 
 de Creil was very much concerned at the change in
 
 72 AMERICAN NOBILITY 
 
 her, and one of his friends, Dr. Moreau, who often 
 saw her at her uncle's house, was still more concerned. 
 
 As a rule, priests and doctors know people least. 
 The former only trouble about their souls and the 
 latter about their bodies, and this incomplete vision 
 makes them powerless to do their charges good or to 
 cure them. Dr. Moreau was an exception to this rule. 
 He did not make use of his science for earning money, 
 but for studying the human being, about whom he felt 
 an intense curiosity. He would have thought it quite 
 beneath him to go to his patients just for money and 
 to feel their pulses, look at their tongues, and hurry 
 away without taking time to study them. He spent 
 whole nights, sometimes at the bedside of patients 
 whose lives and souls he had studied. He worked for 
 their minds quite as much as for their bodies, and he 
 made use of all the springs, such as religion, faith, 
 love, or imagination, which might help to set the 
 machinery in order once more. He would spare no 
 trouble, in order to procure for one of his patients 
 some joy that he considered necessary for counter- 
 balancing some worry that was gnawing at the heart. 
 Most of his own fortune was spent in experiments 
 of this kind. His colleagues looked upon him as a 
 poet, a dreamer, and a Utopian, but they frequently 
 had recourse to him in difficult cases, and they owned 
 that his diagnoses were infallible. 
 
 Dr. Moreau did not care much for society women. 
 Their ignorance and futility annoyed him, their 
 extraordinary aches and pains always made him feel 
 distrustful, and their lack of sincerity exasperated 
 him. The Duchess de Blanzac was, perhaps, the only 
 one who had ever interested him. He had even chosen 
 her as a subject for study. He liked to talk to her
 
 AMERICAN NOBILITY 73 
 
 and to argue with her. She was just the woman he 
 had always needed to help him to carry out his 
 humanitarian schemes. He longed to make use of her 
 faculties for the benefit of the unfortunates. He knew 
 that she gave away large sums of money, but he saw 
 that her charity gave her no satisfaction, except the 
 feeling of having accomplished a duty. He wanted 
 her to have something better than this. He was the 
 first to notice the change in Christiane and he watched, 
 with ever-increasing anxiety, the various phases of the 
 crisis through which she was passing. From a feeling 
 of delicacy, he had abstained from offering any advice. 
 He began to fear, though, that she might have re- 
 course to narcotics for her sleeplessness, or that she 
 might even try morphia. He therefore decided to 
 speak to her and, just at this juncture, she gent for 
 him. 
 
 After writing out a prescription and giving instruc- 
 tions about her diet, he entered, courageously, into 
 what was really the province of the confessor. In a 
 gentle, discreet way, he probed to the very soul of 
 his patient. He then did the best he could towards 
 healing it, not with commonplace words, but with sin- 
 cere sympathy and a sort of paternal tenderness that 
 was infinitely sweet to the sick woman. He then 
 showed her the necessity of rising above her grief, of 
 coming out of herself, of working for the welfare of 
 her fellow-creatures, of doing the kind of good which, 
 in its turn, would help forward other good work. He 
 showed her the humanitarian aspect of true charity, 
 and this aspect could not fail to appeal to the mind 
 of Christiane. She began to discover all kinds of 
 charitable works to undertake, plans to elaborate, and 
 a whole edifice to construct. She soon entered so
 
 74 AMERICAN NOBILITY 
 
 thoroughly into the doctor's schemes, that she told 
 him she was quite ready to work with him. 
 
 She began at once, and the new interest revived 
 her in the most miraculous manner. She went to the 
 rescue of several artists, she provided the means for 
 some workers to take the holiday of which they were 
 sorely in need, and she gave marriage portions to 
 several girls. Five families owed their existence to 
 her and when, one day, Dr. Moreau brought her 
 triumphantly a magnificent specimen of humanity, in 
 the form of the baby of a young couple whom she 
 had helped to marry, her woman's heart had been 
 stirred to its very depths. 
 
 In spite of her youthfulness, Christiane could main- 
 tain the dignity of her rank, in a way that put her 
 above all criticism. She managed to conquer for her- 
 self absolute freedom, and to get all the privileges 
 accorded to dowagers. People spoke of her as " the 
 Duchess " just as they would have said " the Queen." 
 She was consulted about all kinds of things, and even 
 those who did not care much for her could not help 
 acknowledging her superiority. 
 
 Christiane kept up the Chateau de Blanzac in the 
 same style as during her husband's lifetime. She man- 
 aged her household admirably, having people around 
 her who could second her and dismissing pitilessly the 
 useless ones. 
 
 After three years of retirement she went back into 
 the world and, both in Paris and in her country house, 
 she fulfilled conscientiously all her social duties. She 
 gave all kinds of entertainments, thus providing work 
 for numbers of people. The organisation of her balls 
 and dinners interested her immensely. It was a way 
 of exercising her power, her imagination, and her taste.
 
 AMERICAN NOBILITY 75 
 
 In the midst of her large social circle, the Duchess 
 de Blanzac had created for herself an inner circle of 
 tried friends, of intelligent and agreeable men, whose 
 chivalrous and almost loving friendship was very 
 pleasant to her, for she delighted in being loved. She 
 was at home to these chosen few, whom she styled 
 her " faithful friends," every day, from two to four, 
 but she was not at home to any one else. She received 
 them in the room where she usually sat. This red 
 drawing-room was at the end of the ground floor suite 
 of rooms. Its dimensions and severe decoration suited 
 her face and figure. The Dutch pictures, the piano, 
 the books, the huge plants gave it a very cosy aspect, 
 so that every one felt at home there. The two hours' 
 conversation with congenial spirits was a daily treat 
 for Christiane, and it enabled her to forget, more 
 easily, all the commonplace conversation she was 
 obliged to hear at other times. 
 
 Although she had a few devoted friends, and a fair 
 number of admirers, she also had her enemies. It 
 was very difficult for her to put up with stupidity 
 and affectation, and she could not always conceal her 
 antipathy and her disdain. 
 
 Some people accused her of holding theories which 
 they termed " modern " and she was blamed for allow- 
 ing herself to be guided by Dr. Moreau. Such people 
 thought, no doubt, that a Jesuit would have been a 
 more suitable adviser. 
 
 Christiane was keenly sensitive to all the poetry of 
 Catholicism. She loved the liturgical chanting, the 
 mystery of the tabernacle, and the religious ceremonies. 
 She never lingered long, however, over the dogmas, 
 and always turned her thoughts resolutely away from 
 them. She performed the duties imposed by the
 
 7G AMERICAN NOBILITY 
 
 Church, more for the sake of being in communion 
 with her own people than from any real faith. The 
 church-goers owed her a grudge for her lack of zeal 
 in so-called religious matters, and they could scarcely 
 believe it possible that, with such lukewarm piety, she 
 should remain morally irreproachable. 
 
 Although Christiane did not usually care for 
 foreigners, she had been attracted by Madame de 
 Keradieu, and the two women had become rather 
 intimate. 
 
 On returning to Paris, in March, she heard of the 
 arrival of Madame de Keradieu's relatives and asked 
 to have them introduced to her. She did not care for 
 Clara at all, but she thought Annie attractive and 
 liked her. 
 
 Christiane was not sorry to obtain some influence 
 over the wealthy heiress and she invited the two 
 cousins to luncheon several times. She then asked 
 them to a quiet dinner, at which there were only to 
 be sixteen guests, and this was to be followed by a 
 reception. 
 
 The evening before the dinner, Christiane received a 
 line from the Duke d'Ormeuse, saying that he could 
 not be present. On looking down her visiting list, for 
 some one to take his place, she came to the name of 
 the Marchioness d'Anguilhon. 
 
 " What a pity her son is away," she said to herself, 
 " he would have done very well." 
 
 At the very moment when this idea crossed her mind, 
 Jacques was leaving his rooms to come and call on 
 her.
 
 CHAPTER VII 
 
 THE Marquis d'Anguilhon aiid Madame de Blanzac 
 were very old friends. They had always known each 
 other. They had taken their first communion on the 
 same day at the Church of St. Clotilde. They had 
 gone to the same dancing class and had met at all 
 the children's parties of the Faubourg. At the age of 
 fourteen, Jacques was in love with Christiane, and it 
 was thanks to this little love affair that he had experi- 
 enced the first pangs of jealousy and known the joy 
 of loving. He had gravely declared to the Abb6, who 
 gave him lessons, that he would never marry any one 
 but Mademoiselle Soria. 
 
 As Christiane was the same age as Jacques she, of 
 course, soon went ahead of him and, as they grew 
 older, he could only admire her from afar. He was 
 greatly occupied with his studies and had just taken his 
 bachelor's degree when she married. He was present 
 at the wedding, but his heart was full of rage and 
 sorrowful anger. He would have drawn down upon 
 the head of " handsome Jean " anything but blessings, 
 and he had not dared trust himself to go into the 
 vestry and offer his congratulations to the bride and 
 bridegroom. 
 
 Later on, Jacques fell in love with a well-known 
 Russian lady, who was divorced from her husband, 
 
 77
 
 78 AMERICAN NOBILITY 
 
 and his liaison with her kept him rather aloof from 
 the rest of the world. Then came the death of his 
 father and his own financial ruin. Christiane, on her 
 side, had had sorrow after sorrow, and they had met 
 very rarely during all this time. 
 
 When the Duchess de Blanzac began to receive again, 
 she welcomed Jacques to her house as an old friend, 
 and all the more cordially as he was not happy. Each 
 season, she invited him to Blanzac for the shooting 
 and, in Paris, he came to all her entertainments. Be- 
 side this, she often went to see his mother, sent her 
 flowers and fruit, and paid her all kinds of charming 
 little attentions. 
 
 Jacques went frequently to call on the Duchess, 
 between two and four. Her wit entertained him and 
 her elegance, her voice, and her manners charmed him 
 so thoroughly, that he felt quite happy when with her. 
 A glance from her blue eyes, a clasp of her hand, in 
 which she knew how to put so much real friendship, 
 soothed his irritation and chased away his discontent. 
 
 Although Christiane was exactly his own age, he 
 always looked upon her as older, and he even felt as 
 though she belonged to another generation. This im- 
 pression, probably due to the fact that she had mar- 
 ried early, gave a shade of reverence to his liking 
 for her. 
 
 All this should have made it more easy for him to 
 carry out Madame de Lene's wishes. It was exces- 
 sively painful to him to broach the subject of his 
 wish to marry the American heiress to Christiane, and 
 the idea of asking her to help him was still more 
 painful. He had a sort of intuition that she would 
 not like it. 
 
 He walked slowly towards the Rue de Varenne, his
 
 AMERICAN NOBILITY 79 
 
 eyes fixed on the ground and his heart full of anguish. 
 The town house of the Anguilhons, at present rented 
 to strangers, stood next to the Duchess de Blanzac's. 
 The gates were open, and Jacques looked inside. The 
 courtyard was badly kept and had a dreary, deserted 
 aspect. This gave him a shock. He drew himself up 
 with a resolute air, and it was with a firmer tread 
 that he entered the house of the Duchess de Blanzac. 
 
 When Christiane caught sight of him, she uttered 
 an exclamation of delight, advanced to meet him, and 
 held out her hand. 
 
 " Is it really you ! " she said as Jacques kissed her 
 hand. " Well, it is simply Providence who sent you." 
 
 " I only wish it were," answered the young man, 
 smiling. 
 
 " I was regretting your absence only five minutes 
 ago." 
 
 " To what do I owe that honour? " 
 
 " You shall know soon. Sit down." 
 
 The Duchess pointed to a chair for her visitor and 
 sat down herself on her little sofa, with its cushions 
 of soft coloured silks. 
 
 "Have you just come straight from Algeria?" she 
 asked. 
 
 " No, I stayed a few days at Cannes." 
 
 "When did you get here?" 
 
 " On Saturday evening." 
 
 " How odd ! I was thinking of you on Sunday, in 
 church. Your mother was there at the one o'clock 
 Mass. She very rarely comes at that hour. She was 
 praying so fervently that I envied her, and I said 
 to myself that she must be praying for you." 
 
 The expression of Jacques' face softened suddenly. 
 
 " For me? Oh, yes, it probably was for me. I must
 
 SO AMERICAN NOBILITY 
 
 be pretty well known up above. I am quite sure that 
 mother would like to die, if she felt sure that, when 
 once she was with God, she could obtain more happi- 
 ness for her son." 
 
 " Poor woman ! " said Christiane gently. " I do 
 hope, for her sake, that you are not thinking of 
 starting off again immediately?" 
 
 The Marquis wisely seized the opportunity this 
 presented to him. 
 
 " That depends entirely on you," he said. 
 
 "On me?" exclaimed Christiane. "Well, then, you 
 can unpack your trunk at once, for I very much dislike 
 seeing gaps in my circle of friends. What can I do 
 to keep you here ? " 
 
 Jacques was somewhat disconcerted by the large 
 blue eyes that were fixed on him questioningly. 
 
 " Come, explain," said Christiane. 
 
 " I am thinking of marrying." 
 
 " Ah, and you want me to help you? ". 
 
 Jacques nodded, without saying a word. 
 
 " I hope you are not going to ask me to introduce 
 you to the famous heiress? " said the Duchess laughing. 
 
 " I am, though." 
 
 "Ah, no, not that!" 
 
 These words literally escaped Christiane's lips. She 
 heard them herself distinctly, just as though another 
 person had uttered them. She was ashamed of her 
 vehemence and the colour came into her cheeks. 
 
 " No, not that," she repeated more gently. " It is 
 impossible. Ever since people have discovered that I 
 see a great deal of Miss Villars, I hear of nothing 
 but her. Ten persons you hear ten have already 
 been to ask me to propose either a son, a brother, or 
 a friend to her. I have refused. In the first place,
 
 AMERICAN NOBILITY 81 
 
 one does not propose a husband to an American girl, 
 as one would for a French girl, especially when the 
 American girl has declared, categorically, that she will 
 not marry in Europe, as this one has done. Whoever 
 has put this idea into your mind ? " 
 
 " My lawyer, Bontemps. I took his advice and went 
 to the Opera, last night, to see Miss Villars. I watched 
 her through my glasses for more than an hour and, 
 quite independently of her money, I quite like her." 
 
 " Really? " said Christiane, with a touch of irony in 
 her voice. 
 
 " Yes, really," repeated Jacques. 
 
 " Well, if it is not for her fortune, I doubt very 
 much whether she could make you happy. She is in- 
 telligent, well-bred, but your two natures are so 
 different " 
 
 " One could not be very unhappy with an intelligent, 
 well-bred wife. Contrasts often produce the deepest 
 affection." 
 
 " The strongest passions, you mean. According to 
 my way of thinking, a certain affinity is necessary for 
 married life, and, to be quite frank, I do not think 
 there would be much between you and Miss Villars. 
 You are always up in the air, and she is very much 
 down here. However, an heiress worth sixty million 
 francs cannot be discussed," said the Duchess in 
 conclusion, in rather a hard way. 
 
 Jacques coloured slightly, but answered with dignity. 
 
 " You know my position," he said. " If I am to 
 restore our fallen house, I must marry a very rich 
 wife. There is a lack of grandeur in the means em- 
 ployed, I grant, but there is no choice." 
 
 " Oh, I am not blaming you," said Madame de 
 Blanzac, promptly. " If it were a question of a
 
 82 AMERICAN NOBILITY 
 
 French girl, I would help you, willingly, but in the 
 case of Miss Villars, my intervention would do no 
 good. It would do harm, even. The only thing is to 
 make her care for you. I can give you an oppor- 
 tunity for beginning to pay attention to her. The 
 day after to-morrow, I am having a little dinner-party 
 and a reception afterwards. I thought you were still 
 away, or I should have invited you. The Duke 
 d'Ormeuse cannot come at the last minute. You must 
 come instead of him. For these informal dinners, I 
 like to choose my guests. The Keradieus are coming 
 and Miss Villars and her cousin. You will make her 
 acquaintance and, after that, you will not need me, 
 I imagine." 
 
 "On the contrary, I shall need the advice of an intelli- 
 gent woman with keen perception. In an affair of 
 this kind, it is absolutely necessary. It is quite dif- 
 ferent making love to an American girl. If I am left, 
 to myself, I shall make all kinds of mistakes. I am 
 so convinced of what I say, that, if you desert me, I 
 shall give up my scheme." 
 
 " But it would be a great responsibility for me," 
 urged Christiane, gravely. 
 
 " Yes, perhaps it would," replied Jacques, thought- 
 fully. " As a matter of fact, I had not realised how 
 much I was asking you. Forgive me, I have no right 
 to ask such a thing." 
 
 " Ah, it is not nice of you to say that ! " exclaimed 
 Christiane. " Our old friendship warranted your con- 
 sulting me. I should have been hurt, if you had gone 
 to any one else. I am hesitating about helping in this 
 marriage, because it seems an impossible one to me 
 and I fear that you may have a refusal, which would 
 be humiliating. However, in order to prove to you
 
 AMERICAN NOBILITY 83 
 
 my willingness to help you, I will think the matter 
 over, as lawyers say. If not " 
 
 " If not, you leave me to my bad luck. So be it." 
 
 " And now," said Christiane, " tell me about Algeria. 
 Did you enjoy yourself while you were there?" 
 
 " Enjoy is not exactly the word. I had a great deal 
 of real pleasure though." 
 
 Just as Jacques had said this, the Viscount de 
 Xozay and the Prince de Nolles arrived. They shook 
 hands, told each other various scraps of news, and 
 then the conversation turned naturally on Algeria, and 
 after that on other subjects. 
 
 When Jacques left, Christiane said to him: 
 
 " Come to-morrow, a little before two, and I will 
 give you my answer." 
 
 The precarious situation of the Marquis d'Anguilhon 
 was a subject of anxiety to Christiane. She had 
 noticed that people were beginning to forget him, and 
 that he himself went abroad more and more. It had 
 frequently occurred to her that a wealthy marriage 
 might save him, and she had often said to herself that 
 she would urge this on him. She did not, however, 
 like the idea of his marrying Miss Villars. The 
 thought of it caused her a sort of vague sorrow, which 
 she put down to disappointment in him. The girl was 
 a foreigner and too rich for any one very poor. It 
 seemed to her that both those considerations ought to 
 have weighed with Jacques. She then said to herself 
 that she was expecting too much and that God had 
 not, perhaps, yet created the man who could resist 
 the temptation of sixty millions. This figure repre- 
 sented a great force, a force that she herself would 
 rather like to have in her hands. For the Marquis 
 d'Anguilhon it meant happiness and triumph. The
 
 84 AMERICAN NOBILITY 
 
 question was, had he any chance of success? She 
 remembered all that Madame de Keradieu had told 
 her about the Villars family, their position and their 
 Protestantism. She thought over the various conver- 
 sations she had had with Annie, she thought of her 
 independent character and of her indifference about 
 the social distinctions of the Old World. Knowing 
 full well that she could aspire to some of the highest 
 titles, the young girl did not care about any of them. 
 She seemed to be enjoying herself in Paris, but she 
 was essentially American and would not easily be in- 
 duced to give up her country. Was she likely to fall 
 in love with any one? Christiaue thought of her cold 
 and childlike expression and was inclined to think that 
 she was incapable of falling in love. No, she could 
 never have dreamed of a Prince Charming, nor yet 
 have made for herself an ideal. If she ever were to 
 fall in love, though, she would not stop at anything. 
 The resolute expression of her mouth showed that she 
 had a strong will. Would Jacques' refinement, his 
 distinction, and his perfect manners make any im- 
 pression on her? One minute, Christiane thought they 
 might, and the next that they would not. Her vision, 
 which was usually so clear and so rapid, was now 
 strangely confused. Then, too, she felt a strong re- 
 pugnance to helping in this marriage. She would be 
 accused of inviting Miss Villars for the sake of per- 
 suading her to marry the Marquis d'Anguilhon, and 
 this idea was extremely disagreeable. As Jacques had 
 declared, though, that he would give up his scheme if 
 she would not help him, she felt, in a certain measure, 
 obliged to do what she could, and this annoyed her. 
 
 As she lay resting on the sofa in her dressing-room, 
 as she usually did for a time after her visitors had
 
 AMERICAN NOBILITY 85 
 
 gone and after she had been out, she was thinking it 
 all over again and was annoyed with herself for her 
 indecision. Just at this moment, a servant came to 
 ask if Madame de Lene might see her. She gave orders 
 for the visitor to be shown in, and in a short time 
 Madame de Lene appeared. 
 
 She was a woman of about sixty years of age, and 
 rather distinguished-looking. Her face was framed by 
 side curls of white hair, and lighted up by her keen, 
 intelligent little eyes. There was a kind-hearted, 
 good-natured look about her. She gave Madame de 
 Blanzac a detailed account of some business trans- 
 action and then said to her, abruptly: 
 
 " The Marquis d'Anguilhon has been to see you this 
 afternoon, has he not?" 
 
 " How do you know ? " asked the Duchess, surprised. 
 
 " I sent him, indirectly, of course, for I have never 
 spoken to him." 
 
 " Ah, then this idea of his marrying Miss Villars 
 comes from you? I might have thought of that," 
 said the Duchess, getting up quickly. " You might, 
 at least, have consulted me first," she added with an 
 expression of annoyance. " In the first place, what do 
 you know of this American girl? " 
 
 " Not much, except that she says she will not marry 
 a Frenchman." 
 
 Christiane had taken a seat in front of her dressing- 
 table and she was now combing her hair nervously. 
 She stopped short, thinking Madame de Lene was 
 joking, and the expression in her eyes at that moment 
 was by no means encouraging. 
 
 " And as people nearly always do what they do not 
 wish to," continued Madame de Lene, calmly, " it 
 occurred to me that if some one very attractive were
 
 86 AMERICAN NOBILITY 
 
 to take it iiito his head to make her like him, he 
 might succeed." 
 
 The originality of this argument completely dis- 
 armed Madame de Blanzac. 
 
 " You are very philosophical," she said, smiling. 
 
 " My experience of life has not been lost on me ; 
 that is all." 
 
 " And in your wisdom, you have come to the con- 
 clusion that Monsieur d'Anguilhon is the ' some one ' 
 who might fascinate Miss Villars?" 
 
 " I am sure of it. He has all the qualities necessary. 
 When he was a child, I often met him out on his 
 walks with the Abbe" who was his tutor. He inter- 
 ested me then, and I used to turn round to watch 
 him. He looked like a little prince in those days, 
 and at present he looks like a grand seigneur" 
 
 " Yes, he does," said Christiane, with a fixed gaze 
 in her eyes, as though she had a mental vision of 
 Jacques' face. 
 
 " I flatter myself that my idea is a happy one." 
 
 " And how much do you want for the idea?" 
 
 " Twenty-five thousand francs." 
 
 " The price of a surgical operation," said the 
 Duchess, laughing. 
 
 " Yes," answered Madame de Lene, " and the opera- 
 tion will cure Monsieur d'Anguilhon of his poverty 
 and prevent him from going out to die in Africa." 
 
 " To die in Africa? What do you mean?" 
 
 " Do you not know that he has volunteered to take 
 part in an exploring expedition ? " 
 
 " He has not told me a word about that." 
 
 " Well, it is a plan he has been thinking of for some 
 time, and he was just about to carry it out. He 
 wanted to put his affairs in order before starting,
 
 AMERICAN NOBILITY 87 
 
 and to pay his debts. He needed a large sum of money 
 and I offered to find it for him, provided that he 
 proposed to Miss Villars and that you would help 
 him." 
 
 " Oh, if that is how matters stand, you were quite 
 right," said Christiane, impetuously. " His mother 
 would be fearfully unhappy without him. There is 
 only one thing I fear, and that is that you have put 
 him on one of those wrong tracks, which are constantly 
 to be found in life and which only lead us on to 
 disappointments." 
 
 " Well, if it should be so, Africa will console him. 
 He was very enthusiastic about that scheme, and 
 Bontemps assured me that he had the greatest diffi- 
 culty to persuade him to give it up, for the present, 
 at any rate. However, it may turn out I have acted 
 for the best, and more in his interest than in my own. 
 I hope you are not vexed with me for giving you this 
 opportunity of doing a good deed." 
 
 " No but for the future, I should prefer your ask- 
 ing my consent first. At present, I am obliged to do 
 something which I do not want to do." 
 
 After Madame de Lene's departure, Christiane sat 
 for a long time with her eyes fixed on her looking- 
 glass, but her gaze was turned inwards. She was 
 thinking over what she had just heard. She felt sure 
 that Jacques had thought of going to Africa in the 
 hope that he might meet with a death that would be 
 to his honour out there, and so escape from the petty 
 worries of his present existence. There was nothing 
 surprising in all that. She then thought of the Mar- 
 chioness d'Anguilhon, as she had seen her on Sunday 
 in church, with her emaciated face, her expressive 
 eyes, and her hands clasped together in prayer. She
 
 88 AMERICAN NOBILITY 
 
 knew, DO doubt, of her son's plan and she was pray- 
 ing God to prevent him from carrying it out. An 
 immense pity took possession of Christiane's soul, and 
 this pity conquered her repugnance and her scruples. 
 She, too, began to wish for this marriage, which might 
 be the means of saving Jacques, and she decided that 
 she would do her utmost to bring it about. She would 
 give him opportunities of meeting Miss Villars and 
 she would praise his good qualities to her and let her 
 see how much she herself respected him. She began 
 to think that Madame de Lene was quite right and 
 that he would be very likely to inspire a girl with 
 love for him. And then, as even the best natures have 
 their weak points, the idea amused her that Annie 
 might, after all, fall in love with a Frenchman and 
 marry him, in spite of every one and everything. She 
 revelled beforehand, in a mischievous way, at the 
 thought of the conflict of sentiments which such a 
 marriage would cause, and the idea of Clara's anger 
 positively delighted her. 
 
 Christiane lay awake most of the night, thinking 
 over this romance that was to be worked out. She 
 studied the characters of those who were to take part 
 in it, elaborated a plan of action, traced out her own 
 r61e, and the following day, when Jacques appeared, 
 she said to him, as she held out her hand: 
 
 " I will help you." 
 
 " Really ! " he exclaimed, with a thrill of -joy and 
 hope. " Will you really help me? Oh, then, it means 
 victory. You think I am likely to succeed ? " 
 
 " Yes, but we must not go too fast. In the first 
 place, you must promise to obey me blindly." 
 
 " Blindly. I am only too happy that you consent 
 to guide me."
 
 AMERICAN NOBILITY 89 
 
 " People always say that arid then, frequently, only 
 follow the advice that they like. I have a great deal 
 of self-respect, as you know, and, as I am interested 
 myself in your cause, I want you to win. You must 
 let me guide you in everything." 
 
 " I promise faithfully and, all the more so, as I 
 have already had one experience, with a certain Miss 
 Ellis. My affair with her would make the subject of 
 a one-act comedy, which might be entitled, ( A Mutual 
 Misunderstanding. ' : 
 
 " Ah, when misunderstandings take place with 
 American women, nothing more can be done, for they 
 are very sensitive and vindictive. I know them well 
 enough to be able to call out : ' Danger ! ' if it should 
 be necessary." 
 
 " What did you mean, yesterday, when you said that 
 ' 1 am always up in the air and that Miss Villars is 
 very much down here'?" 
 
 " Ah, I see that my words have been running in your 
 head," said Christiane, smiling. " I do not quite know 
 how to express what I mean. The ideal is above and 
 beyond life, heroism is beyond courage, fanaticism is 
 beyond religion, and perversity is beyond evil. Well, 
 as a rule, for there are, of course, exceptions, American 
 women never arrive at the beyond. They are within 
 the circle that limits our sphere of action, that borders 
 on the ideal, whilst we are beyond it. If they heard 
 me saying this, they would protest energetically, and 
 declare that they have more culture than we have. 
 That is quite possible and I even grant that it is so. 
 And yet, a little, ignorant European girl, brought up 
 within the walls of a convent, will have impulses and 
 transports of feeling which their doctoresses are in- 
 capable of experiencing. The souls of our European
 
 90 AMERICAN NOBILITY 
 
 girls will soar to heights, arid penetrate to depths, 
 which the others could never reach with all their 
 science. Take Madame de Keradieu, for instance, who 
 has lived for years in France. She is much more 
 intelligent and better informed than many of my 
 acquaintances. There are numbers of subjects, never- 
 theless, which I could never discuss with her. When 
 we touch on the domain of abstract thought, she can- 
 not follow, and this considerably limits the field of 
 conversation." 
 
 " And so you think that the ' beyond ' and the ' down 
 here ' would clash ? " asked Jacques, with evident 
 dread. 
 
 " Clash ? No. Miss Villars has some excellent 
 qualities. You might be happy with her, if you were 
 wise enough not to ask her for more than she can 
 give." 
 
 " Well, tell me frankly, do you like her? " 
 
 " Yes, otherwise I should not invite her. I should 
 think her delightful, if she were only less decided in 
 her manner and if she were not quite so hard. You 
 see it is the inner life that gives softness and delicacy 
 to the expression of the face. The American woman 
 does not know what repose means. Her face, un- 
 touched by flashes of thought or reverie, has the crude 
 light and the hard outlines of those beautiful Southern 
 landscapes, the atmosphere of which is crossed by 
 the mistral. In a word, she lacks that indefinable 
 attraction which we call ' charm.' Miss Villars is no 
 exception to the rule." 
 
 "Do you think my mother would like her?" asked 
 Jacques, somewhat disconcerted by what he had just 
 heard. 
 
 Christiane reflected for a few seconds.
 
 AMERICAN NOBILITY 91 
 
 " Yes," she said, at last. " It would be as well to 
 warn Madame d'Anguilhon that American girls are 
 not timid, naive creatures. In fact, they are not 
 at all naive. They all seem to me like married 
 women." 
 
 "Like married women?" 
 
 " Yea. that something which makes of the real girl, 
 a being apart, an exquisite creature, is lacking in 
 them. By their look of assurance, and by a thousand 
 other signs, one guesses that they are aware of every- 
 thing, and Madame de Keradieu tells me that such is 
 the case. When once they are out, the initiated ones 
 speak very openly before them, in order to put them 
 on their guard, probably. Of course, as they are given 
 full liberty, it is as well to open their eyes." 
 
 " And does Miss Villars seem to you like a married 
 woman ? " asked Jacques, with such a scared look on 
 his face that the Duchess laughed. 
 
 " Yes, she does. Do not let that disturb your mind, 
 though. If she is not naive, Annie Villars is very 
 comme il faut" 
 
 " Annie," repeated the Marquis, " I like the name ; 
 it is simple and has a soft sound." 
 
 " Yes, it is a pretty name," agreed Madame de 
 Blanzac. 
 
 "And what sort of a woman is the mother?" 
 
 " A very good sort, quite inoffensive, and without a 
 shadow of authority. You have nothing to fear there. 
 Beware of the cousin, though. She will be the enemy 
 and a very wily one too. If she had the slightest idea 
 of your intentions, she would be capable of hastening 
 their departure for England. The two cousins want 
 to be there for the London season. You have just 
 six weeks for the conquest of the young person."
 
 92 AMERICAN NOBILITY 
 
 " Not very long." 
 
 " Quite enough, for if she does not care for you 
 at once, she will never care for you." 
 
 " Ah, love at first sight would be too much to 
 expect." 
 
 " Love at first sight is not necessary, but you must 
 make a good impression on her the first time she sees 
 you. If you do not, you will fare like the Duke de 
 Randan. He is just as far advanced now, as the first 
 day he met her." 
 
 " By the way, does she speak French ? " 
 
 " With a slight accent, but fluently." 
 
 " Heaven be praised. It would be terrible to have 
 to make love in English." 
 
 " It is certainly better to fight with one's own weap- 
 ons, and on one's own ground. Now, listen to my 
 instructions." 
 
 " I am all ears." 
 
 " You are coming to dinner to-morrow ; that is under- 
 stood. You will take the Viscountess de Fresne in; 
 she is very entertaining and likes to monopolise her 
 companion. You must allow yourself to be enter- 
 tained and monopolised. Miss Villars will be on the 
 other side of the table, but a little higher up, so that 
 if she should be tempted to look at you, she will have 
 to turn her head slightly. After dinner, we shall have 
 music and songs and then an orchestra and dancing 
 until supper-time. You must keep to the French group* 
 and you must not ask Miss Villars to dance with you. 
 If the Keradieus want to introduce you to her, try to 
 find some excuse for postponing the introduction. She 
 will probably be surrounded with admirers, so that 
 your indifference will attract her attention, even if 
 your own personality has not already done so. That
 
 AMERICAN NOBILITY 93 
 
 is very improbable, though," added the Duchess, with 
 a mocking smile. 
 
 " Quite improbable," repeated Jacques, imper- 
 turbably. 
 
 " When you do make her acquaintance, do not pay 
 her any special attention, and no compliments, remem- 
 ber. Behave just as though you were with a French 
 girl. I have noticed that American girls are always 
 flattered by that. Take rather an authoritative tone 
 when you are talking to her. You might, in fact, 
 simply be yourself then, as your own character will 
 serve you admirably. As you already like her, there 
 is no need to pretend, and there is a great force in 
 sincerity. Do not be in any hurry, as that would 
 spoil everything. Keep me very well posted and I will 
 observe Miss Villars and question Madame de Keradieu 
 in such a way that she will suspect nothing. I shall 
 then be better able to guide you." 
 
 " What a clever politician you are," said Jacques, 
 looking at Christiane, admiringly. 
 
 " Yes, I always envied the women of the Fronde. 
 A good conspiracy would have suited me." 
 
 " And been more interesting than the marriage of a 
 poverty-stricken man." 
 
 " Not when the poverty-stricken man is a friend of 
 my childhood, and when it is a question of preventing 
 him from going out to get himself killed in Africa." 
 
 " How did you know I was going to Africa? " asked 
 Jacques, flushing to the roots of his hair. 
 
 " No matter how, but I do know. The only son of 
 a widow has no right to take his life into his own 
 hands like that, Monsieur d'Anguilhon," added the 
 Duchess, in a severe tone. 
 
 " Unless he is of no use."
 
 94 AMERICAN NOBILITY 
 
 "Of no use? Your presence is much more neces- 
 sary to your mother than luxury and even comfort. 
 In your case, there would be more heroism in staying 
 at home and putting up with limited means than in 
 going out to brave death in Africa." 
 
 " Perhaps so, but such heroism as that is beyond 
 my strength." 
 
 " Men are only capable of the sacrifices that are the 
 most painful ones to other people. That is a well- 
 known fact. I hope there will be no need for you to 
 do the bad thing you were intending to do and that 
 you will marry Miss Villars. We must have a grand 
 wedding at St. Clotilde's." 
 
 " So be it," said Jacques, gaily. " If it is to be, it 
 will be, and if not, I shall only feel a trifle ashamed." 
 
 "Are you a fatalist?" 
 
 " An absolute fatalist." 
 
 "Then what are you and I doing now?" 
 
 " We are doing just what is necessary for the success 
 or failure of this affair." 
 
 " So, according to you, it would have been impossible 
 for me to have refused to help you?" 
 
 " Impossible, since you did not refuse." 
 
 "Then I have no responsibility?" 
 
 " None." 
 
 " And no merit then, either? " 
 
 " The merit of being a good and beneficent instru- 
 ment, just as the rose has the merit of being a beauti- 
 ful, sweet-scented flower. Our brains are nothing but 
 phonographs, upon which our respective r61es are in- 
 scribed. We live out these r61es, and that is what 
 gives us the illusion of free-will. If this were not so, 
 we should govern the world, whereas we are governed 
 ourselves. It is impossible to doubt that."
 
 AMERICAN NOBILITY 95 
 
 " Oh, please do not talk like that," exclaimed 
 Christiane, "you are upsetting everything every- 
 thing. Who would have imagined that you ever 
 thought of such questions?" 
 
 "Circumstances have obliged me to think." 
 
 " Well, T must say that I cannot congratulate you 
 on the result of your meditations. I hope you have 
 not talked to your mother like this? " 
 
 " Heaven forbid ! I would not say a word to her 
 that might shake her faith." 
 
 " Why are you not as scrupulous about shaking 
 mine?" 
 
 "Yours?" said Jacques, looking into Christiane's 
 eyes. " Yours ? " he repeated ; " I do not think you 
 have any." 
 
 The Duchess lowered her eyelids with the long 
 lashes promptly. 
 
 " You are too young to be my father confessor," she 
 said laughing. " Let us leave philosophy alone. Go 
 and think about Miss Villars and how you are to win 
 her. You must succeed, for the sake of the honour 
 of the Old World." 
 
 " I will try." 
 
 Madame de Blanzac watched the Marquis as he 
 went away and a smile played over her lips. 
 
 " We shall see," she said to herself, " whether our 
 little Yankee will prove as refractory as she believes 
 herself to be ! n
 
 CHAPTER VIII 
 
 NEW YORK, Boston, and Philadelphia are nearer to 
 Paris than most of the provincial towns of France. 
 Like most Americans, Annie Villars and her cousin 
 knew the names of French savants, literary men, and 
 artists and they were soon well up in what was going 
 on in Paris. Madame de Keradieu took them to the 
 various picture exhibitions, charity bazaars, import- 
 ant weddings, and also to the Opera and the Bois, 
 and she always pointed out any noted persons to them. 
 
 Annie and Clara had, of course, begged to be taken 
 to the smaller theatres and to the little restaurants 
 to supper, but Madame de Keradieu assured them that 
 her husband would never consent to escort them there. 
 
 The American woman is a sufficiently good repub- 
 lican not to wish for royalty in her own country, but 
 she is delighted that it exists in Europe, and she will 
 go to any trouble to obtain the privilege of being 
 allowed to make her curtsy to it. 
 
 In the same way, she is virtuous enough not to 
 wish to meet with the devil when she is at home, but 
 she is charmed to meet him elsewhere. When she is 
 in Paris, she never fails to go in search of him; in 
 the first place just to see what he is like, but more 
 particularly in order to be able to say that she has 
 seen him and she never finds him as black as she 
 
 96
 
 AMERICAN NOBILITY 97 
 
 had hoped. She buys the most daring of novels and 
 she likes to go to the most risky of plays, and it 
 usually happens that she neither understands the novel 
 nor the play. 
 
 When at the theatre, or driving in the Bois, she 
 always likes to have the celebrities of the demi-monde 
 pointed out, and she examines them with the keenest 
 curiosity, because they are " wicked," but she does not 
 realise all the ignominy of their lives. All such things 
 would leave their trace for ever on the soul of a 
 French girl, but they merely amuse an American girl. 
 She is not sensual and she is as incapable of com- 
 prehending depravity as she is of comprehending 
 holiness. 
 
 Annie Villars and her cousin had no reason to 
 regret having followed Madame de Keradieu's advice, 
 for their season in Paris was most enjoyable. Their 
 relationship with the Baroness and their own person- 
 ality gave them a certain position at once. At after- 
 noon receptions, they were very much admired, so that 
 the card basket in their drawing-room already con- 
 tained a number of cards, bearing aristocratic names, 
 and, curiously enough, these little pieces of cardboard 
 had more effect on Annie than the individuals they 
 represented. She would look at them and handle them 
 with a certain pleasure. The words Prince de Nolles 
 and Duke de Randan seemed to mean more than such 
 names as Mr. Jones or Mr. Smith. She was rather 
 ashamed that she should have this impression and she 
 would not, on any account, have owned to it to her 
 cousin. 
 
 The amount of her dowry had, of course, excited 
 certain ambitious families. Madame de Keradieu had 
 taken the precaution to let every one know that Annie
 
 08 AMERICAN NOBILITY 
 
 did not intend to marry in Europe, and that she was 
 by no means anxious to have a title. Several young 
 men had, nevertheless, obtained an introduction and, 
 in accordance with French manners and customs, they 
 had requested their family or friends to work for them. 
 
 Duke Albert de Randan was openly posing as a 
 suitor. He was a good-looking young man of twenty- 
 seven years of age, with an old name and a certain 
 fortune. He thought that, with these advantages, he 
 would easily win the American girl. His attentions 
 and his proposal flattered Annie's vanity, but he made 
 no impression whatever on her. The Faubourg St. 
 Germain society excited her curiosity just as Japanese 
 or Chinese society would have done. She studied the 
 women's dresses, their way of receiving, and the ar- 
 rangement of their drawing-rooms. All that amused 
 her, but she felt that there was nothing in common 
 between her and the people she met. She was abso- 
 lutely nonplussed by the girls and she never managed 
 to carry on a conversation with them. She finally 
 came to the conclusion that vanity alone could make 
 American women anxious to enter into this world, as 
 it was by no means amusing and there was nothing 
 which could appeal to them, as their tastes and their 
 education were so totally different. 
 
 Baron de Keradieu's friends were most friendly with 
 the two girls and Viscount Guy de Nozay had promptly 
 discovered Annie's natural wit. 
 
 Guy was of small stature and very plain, but his 
 very plainness was of that kind which is singularly 
 attractive. He was extremely original and had a vein 
 of humour, which caused him to be held in awe. His 
 keen eyes saw everything, so that only those who had 
 nothing to hide could be at ease in his presence.
 
 AMEEICAN NOBILITY 99 
 
 Annie's naturalness and sincerity had immediately 
 charmed him and her remarks amused him. He de- 
 lighted in attacking her American ideas and she 
 defended them courageously. This little warfare, car- 
 ried on with the most perfect courtesy and in a witty 
 manner, amused Annie. Baron de Keradieu and 
 Viscount de Nozay were the only two Frenchmen she 
 cared for so far. 
 
 As a matter of fact, the important persons of the 
 Faubourg St. Germain had caused her keen disap- 
 pointment, a disappointment which is shared by most 
 American women. 
 
 The Duchess de Blanzac was the only woman who 
 had excited her admiration. 
 
 " She is a perfect queen," Annie had said, the first 
 time she met her. There was something extraordinary 
 about her, something which Annie had never met with 
 in any other woman, and she could not take her eyes 
 from her. She was extremely flattered by any at- 
 tention shown to her by Christiane de Blanzac. Clara 
 did not share her enthusiasm. She declared that the 
 Duchess was not really as good as she seemed and 
 that it would not do to have too much faith in her. 
 The two cousins had several slight quarrels on this 
 subject. 
 
 Annie was delighted when she received an invitation 
 to a grand dinner to be given by the Duchess, followed 
 by a soiree. She was glad of this opportunity of 
 seeing how people of the highest rank entertained. 
 
 She took a great deal of trouble about her dress, 
 as she wanted to be at her best. When the great day 
 arrived, she was quite feverish with excitement, more 
 excited than she had ever been under any circumstance 
 in her life.
 
 100 AMERICAN NOBILITY 
 
 She wore a dress of very pale pink silk, made 
 exquisitely and cut low in a most artistic manner. 
 Her necklace was composed of seven rows of wonder- 
 ful little pearls caught together with tiny bars set 
 with diamonds. 
 
 "I have never seen you look as beautiful, Miss 
 Annie," exclaimed Catherine, in delight. " I am quite 
 certain that your Duchess will not have any one 
 prettier and better dressed in her room to-night." 
 
 " You dear old goose," said Annie, laughing and 
 kissing her old nurse, as she always did on days when 
 she felt she had been very exacting. " Other people 
 will not see me through your eyes, unfortunately." 
 
 " God bless you," said Catherine, putting the finish- 
 ing touches to her young mistress's toilette. 
 
 Mrs. Villars had also been invited, in the most cor- 
 rect manner possible, but she had excused herself and 
 had asked Madame de Keradieu to chaperon the two 
 girls. As she was dining out, she drove first to the Rue 
 Vaneau with Clara and Annie. 
 
 " I hope you will enjoy yourselves," she said, gaily, 
 as she left them. 
 
 As the Keradieus' carriage was stopped several times 
 by a block in the traffic, they were the last of the 
 dinner guests to arrive at the Duchess de Blanzac's. 
 On entering the brilliantly lighted house, Annie was 
 seized with a fit of nervous shyness. She felt a flood 
 of light over her and saw, in a confused way, red and 
 gold liveries, plants, flowers, a suite of magnificent 
 rooms and, in the furthest one, light dresses, white 
 shirt fronts, and black coats. All eyes were turned 
 towards her during the ceremony of the introductions 
 and this confused her still more, so that she did not 
 catch a single name nor distinguish a single face.
 
 AMERICAN NOBILITY 101 
 
 The Viscount de Nozay took her in to dinner and 
 when once she was seated at table, between him and 
 Monsieur de Keradieu, she came to herself again. 
 
 Jacques, too, was by no means tranquil in his mind. 
 He was, apparently, paying great attention to the 
 Viscountess de Fresne, but, in reality, not a single 
 movement or expression of the young American girl 
 escaped him. He saw her reply by a smile to a little 
 friendly sign from the Duchess de Blanzac. He then 
 watched her as she glanced round the table. When 
 her eyes were fixed on him, he noticed that an ex- 
 pression of surprise came to her face. His heart 
 began to beat more quickly and presently he felt that 
 Annie's eyes were fixed on him again. It seemed as 
 though she were unconsciously attracted, for several 
 times during dinner he saw that she was watching 
 him. 
 
 Jacques was sure that, for some reason or another, 
 he had excited the girl's curiosity, for it certainly was 
 curiosity that he read on her face. He was very much 
 delighted and this delight was reflected in his eyes. 
 
 He began to examine Annie more carefully and he 
 was charmed by her girlishness and the good-natured 
 expression of her face. He thought her very comme 
 il faut and the only fault he had to find was that she 
 was not dressed quite simply enough for a young girl. 
 The rings she was wearing rather horrified him. She 
 had a turquoise on her little finger and a black pearl 
 ring and a diamond one on the third finger. The 
 sparkling of all these stones during dinner had rather 
 the effect on him of a false note. 
 
 " She might be a married woman," he said to 
 himself. 
 
 He then thought of her immense fortune and could
 
 102 AMERICAN NOBILITY 
 
 not help glancing again at the privileged creature 
 whom Providence had so greatly favoured. 
 
 Although Annie had been rather perplexed by the 
 Marquis d'Anguilhon and had looked at him several 
 times, this had not prevented her from taking note 
 of all that she saw. This French dinner interested 
 her immensely. 
 
 Dinners are the special triumphs of American 
 women. They vie with each other in inventing fresh 
 things with which to surprise or amaze their guests, 
 and, as a result of their various inventions, they have 
 arrived at a luxury of which we have no idea, a luxury 
 that is, perhaps, more remarkable than refined. In 
 order to judge of American plutocracy, one must have 
 been present at some of these feasts given by their 
 millionaires. They are veritable orgies of light and 
 colour. Silk cloths, sometimes even with gold fringes, 
 the table strewn with rare flowers and dinner services 
 of silver, delicate china, and cut glass. A profusion 
 of the most carefully thought out dishes and the most 
 exquisite fruits in the world. Then women who are 
 pretty and remarkable looking, not elegant in them- 
 selves but dressed by the first houses, women who are 
 perhaps wearing in their hair, or on their neck and 
 arms, the gems of princely crowns or the jewels of 
 queens now in exile. Added to all this, the most 
 exuberant gaiety, which is kept up by abundant 
 champagne and wine served indiscriminately. 
 
 Accustomed to magnificence of this kind, Annie was 
 at first surprised, and a trifle disappointed, by the 
 comparative simplicity of this dinner. 
 
 The dining-room, with its fine proportions, its ceil- 
 ing, and its oak panelled walls, formed a somewhat 
 severe and sombre background, against which the table
 
 AMERICAN NOBILITY 103 
 
 and the guests stood out in relief. The beautiful 
 Flemish table-linen, the candelabras with their candles, 
 the Louis XVI. centre-piece with its mirrors framed 
 in silver holding a large basket, the admirably chased 
 vases filled with roses of delicate colours, the dishes 
 all prepared and served up artistically, the women 
 with their quiet elegance, the animated conversation 
 carried on in a distinctly well-bred way, all this made 
 an ensemble, pleasing alike to the eye and to the ear, 
 for all was so delightfully harmonious. Annie Villars 
 did not fail to experience a sort of well being, a 
 delectation. She felt that it was all very beautiful 
 and very good, better than anything she had seen 
 hitherto. 
 
 After dinner, Madame de Keradieu talked to Jacques 
 for a few minutes and, when she joined Annie a few 
 minutes later, the young girl asked her to whom she 
 had been speaking. 
 
 " I do not remember his name, but I am quite sure 
 I have met him somewhere," said Annie. 
 
 " Yes, and I have, too," added Clara. 
 
 " Impossible," said Madame de Keradieu, " for he has 
 only just returned from Algeria and has not yet been 
 to see us. He is a friend of Henri's, the Marquis 
 d'Anguilhon." 
 
 " Ah, that 's it," exclaimed Annie. " He is so ex- 
 actly like a portrait, a copy of Van Dyck's, that we 
 saw at Versailles. It is Joyeuse, Marquis d'Anguilhon, 
 Seigneur de Blonay. Do you not remember it, Clara? " 
 
 " Yes, quite well. And you are right, too," she added, 
 looking at Jacques, who was standing just under a 
 brilliant light. " He is exactly like the portrait." 
 
 " The portrait is, no doubt, one of Jacques' an- 
 cestors," said the Viscount de Nozay.
 
 104 AMERICAN NOBILITY 
 
 " Henri is the living picture of a Keradieu who died 
 about a hundred and fifty years ago," put in the 
 Baroness. 
 
 " Yes, there are still a few authentic aristocrats," 
 said Guy in a bantering tone, " in spite of what Miss 
 May believes." 
 
 " But I never doubted that," answered Clara, 
 laughing. 
 
 "No, really? Well, so much the better." 
 
 Annie examined Jacques more carefully. 
 
 " How curious it is though," she said, " to see a 
 living person with exactly the same features and ex- 
 pression as a portrait painted two hundred years ago. 
 What a pity that the Marquis d'Anguilhon has not 
 a pointed beard and is not wearing a ruffle and a 
 doublet." 
 
 " Well, we must call d'Anguilhon here and request 
 him to array himself as a Seigneur of Blonay for the 
 next costume ball." 
 
 " Oh, please do not," said Annie, colouring. " You 
 would make me appear ridiculous. I am not at all 
 anxious to see him like that, either," she added drily. 
 
 Annie and her cousin thoroughly enjoyed the even- 
 ing. The young men they met were extremely atten- 
 tive. Every one said very pleasant things to them, so 
 that they experienced, the whole time, the delightful 
 sensation which success gives. 
 
 There is nothing more fascinating than a resem- 
 blance and Annie could not help looking at Jacques, 
 because he had the straight nose and the eyes and 
 smile of that portrait, copied from one of Van Dyck's, 
 which had so charmed her that she had underlined it 
 in her Baedeker. 
 
 She was longing to dance with the descendant of
 
 AMERICAN NOBILITY 105 
 
 the " Seigneur of Blonay." It would have been very 
 exciting and she would have enjoyed telling about it 
 afterwards, but Jacques, in obedience to the instruc- 
 tions he had received from the Duchess de Blanzac, 
 did not approach her and the disappointment she felt 
 somewhat spoiled the evening for her. 
 
 The following day, on writing down in her diary 
 the principal features of the evening's entertainment, 
 she finished with the words : " Saw a live Marquis."
 
 CHAPTER IX 
 
 AT the Galerie Georges Petit, Rue de Seze, a sale 
 was going on for the benefit of Waifs and Strays. 
 There were stalls very tastefully arranged, elegant 
 women in their light spring dresses, a most har- 
 monious blending of colour, lively chattering, and 
 plenty of grace and coquetry, all, in fact, that goes 
 to make up a Charity Bazaar. 
 
 At the end of the room was a sign with the name 
 " Colombin " in huge letters and under this was a long 
 table beautifully decorated with flowers. On the table 
 were samovars, bottles of wine, bowls of punch, pyra- 
 mids of cakes, sandwiches, fruit, etc. To the right and 
 left a few small tables had been arranged after the 
 fashion of the real Colombin the famous confectioner 
 of the Rue Cambon. This buffet had been organised 
 and provided by Madame de Keradieu, Miss Villars, 
 and Miss May. All three of them were selling and 
 serving, as though they had never done anything else 
 but this in their lives. 
 
 Towards four o'clock, the Marquis d'Anguilhon and 
 the Viscount de Nozay arrived. On seeing the Van 
 Dyck, as Clara had surnamed Jacques, Annie was 
 delighted. 
 
 Madame de Keradieu presented both of the young 
 men with a buttonhole of corn-flowers, such as she was 
 wearing herself. 
 
 106
 
 AMERICAN NOBILITY 107 
 
 " Put these in your coats," she said. " I will engage 
 you both as waiters. We shall have crowds of people 
 here soon and we cannot do all the work ourselves." 
 
 " That is what I call taking a mean advantage," said 
 Jacques, putting the flowers in his buttonhole. 
 
 " Are you complaining ? " 
 
 " Not at all, I am only too delighted to be able to 
 do anything for you. The only thing is, I am terribly 
 awkward. At any rate, I will pay beforehand for what 
 I break," and the Marquis put a twenty-franc piece 
 into the little basket which served as cash-box. 
 
 " A brilliant idea," said Guy, following his friend's 
 example. " You know how awkward I am," he added. 
 " Do not give me anything fragile or valuable to 
 handle. It will be at your own risk." 
 
 " We are to reserve a table for Madame de Blanzac," 
 said the Marquis. 
 
 " Yes, she is coming to * five o'clocker ' here," added 
 Guy. 
 
 " To ' five o'clocker ' ! " repeated Madame de Kera- 
 dieu, laughing. " Oh, Monsieur de Nozay ! " 
 
 " Well, as people will call tea the ' five o'clock/ 
 instead of using our nice French word gouter, there 
 is nothing for it but to make a verb. I five o'clock, 
 you five o'clock, he five o'clocks, etc. I cannot think 
 why we should let ourselves be Americanised in this 
 way." 
 
 " You might do worse," said Clara, sharply. 
 
 " Oh, no discussions now, please," begged Madame 
 de Keradieu. " Now, waiters, to work and try not to 
 be too clumsy." 
 
 " We will try," answered the two young men to- 
 gether. They at once went to their place at the buffet 
 and began to pass the cups and cakes as instructed.
 
 108 AMERICAN NOHILITY 
 
 It was the Duchess de Blanzac who had suggested to 
 Madame de Keradieu the idea of letting the Marquis 
 help at the buffet, by way of keeping him out of the 
 way of the solicitations of the other stall-holders. 
 
 The Duke de Randan, thinking that this would be 
 a good opportunity for him, asked permission to help 
 Jacques and Guy at the buffet. He was extremely 
 attentive to Annie and waited on her very ostensibly. 
 His behaviour irritated Jacques, for now he was in- 
 terested in this girl himself, he did not care to have 
 any one else paying attention to her. He did not 
 attempt to compete with the Duke though. He talked 
 to Madame de Keradieu, to the various women he 
 knew, and scarcely addressed a word to Miss Villars. 
 
 Annie was still fascinated by his resemblance to the 
 Versailles portrait and she could not help watching 
 him. Every time that he spoke to her, or that she 
 met his golden brown eyes, she had a little inward 
 shock. 
 
 Between four and five the buffet was literally be- 
 sieged. All the habituees of the real Colombin's, 
 American women, Jewesses, and other rich foreigners 
 arrived one after another. They soon found out the 
 names of the young men who were helping at the 
 buffet and it seemed as though the pleasure of being 
 waited on by a Duke, a Marquis, and a Viscount in- 
 creased their appetite considerably. They consumed 
 an alarming quantity of cakes and the receipts were 
 most satisfactory. 
 
 According to her promise, Christiane came to the 
 Bazaar. She went to various stalls and made pur- 
 chases, talked with her friends, and, when the crowd 
 was less formidable at the buffet, she arrived in her 
 turn.
 
 AMERICAN NOBILITY 109 
 
 " Well, are you doing good business ? " she asked. 
 
 " We are coining money," answered Madame de 
 Keradieu. " We have almost come to the end of our 
 stores and of our strength." 
 
 " I will invite you all to tea, by way of refreshing 
 you. Monsieur de Keradieu can find some people to 
 take your places." 
 
 A few minutes later, the Duchess was seated at a 
 samovar and, at her invitation, the buffet " attend- 
 ants " sat down with her at her table. 
 
 Madame de Keradieu thanked the young men for 
 their help. 
 
 " You have had great success," she said. " We 
 should soon make our fortune, with waiters like you." 
 
 " And we have neither broken anything, nor upset 
 anything," said Guy. " We managed very well, on the 
 whole, although we are not accustomed to this sort of 
 thing. Do you not agree with me, Miss May?" 
 
 " Yes, but it is very evident that you are not accus- 
 tomed to it," answered Clara, laughing as she thought 
 of the various mistakes and blunders they had made. 
 
 " Yes, you certainly need to spend one or two sea- 
 sons in New York, to get used to waiting on women," 
 put in Monsieur de Keradieu. " You see," he con- 
 tinued, putting on a mock-serious tone, "there is no 
 place like America for masculine education. It is a 
 school for chivalry, modern chivalry, I mean, of course. 
 Young men are not required to go and fight infidels 
 or even to win the Holy Grail, but they are made into 
 excellent knights. They have to carry jackets and 
 sunshades about, do all kinds of errands, and ruin 
 themselves in sweets and flowers. At a ball, for in- 
 stance, they may fan their partner, hold her cham- 
 pagne glass, or her plate, and she will drink in the
 
 110 AMERICAN NOBILITY 
 
 most leisurely way, and eat little morsels daintily 
 with her fork. All that is very pretty exercise. I 
 have often watched it." 
 
 Jacques raised his eyebrows with an expression of 
 surprise. 
 
 " You are joking," he said. 
 
 " Not at all. American men accomplish such big 
 feats that they can very well stoop to petty tasks 
 without seeming ridiculous." 
 
 " Good, you are just, at any rate," said his wife. 
 " I am sure, though," she continued mischievously, 
 " that Monsieur d'Anguilhon would understand women 
 rendering those little services to men, rather than the 
 other way round." 
 
 " Certainly, I should," replied Jacques, in a decided 
 tone. 
 
 Annie drew her lips together and Clara glanced at 
 the Marquis indignantly. 
 
 " What do you think of that way of looking at 
 things, Miss Villars?" asked the Duchess de Blanzac. 
 
 " What do I think of it ? Oh, it does not concern 
 me. It could only affect a Frenchwoman." 
 
 " A Frenchwoman? But she would think it ridicu- 
 lous for a man to become her servant. If a man's 
 prestige is to be lowered, there is not so much honour 
 and pleasure in winning him." 
 
 " Exactly," put in Jacques. 
 
 " Then too," said the Duke de Randan, " by fanning 
 a woman at a ball and holding her plate and glass, 
 a man would be proclaiming his rights over her and 
 that would be bad taste." 
 
 " Rights? Oh, my poor friends, you are behind the 
 times. Let me tell you," continued the Baron, " that 
 in the United States, the man has no rights. No
 
 AMERICAN NOBILITY 111 
 
 rights whatever," he repeated, glancing mischievously 
 at Clara. " He asks for nothing. The principle of 
 American women is to receive everything, to exact 
 everything, and to give nothing. Oh, they are very 
 clever, I can tell you." 
 
 " They are not true women, though," declared the 
 Marquis d'Anguilhon. 
 
 " No, they are still children-prodigies, but children 
 nevertheless. There is great childishness in their com- 
 prehension of life, in their way of treating men and 
 of flirting. The Boston woman is an intellectual 
 child, the Philadelphia woman is a good, reasonable 
 child, and the New York woman a terrible child, but 
 very brilliant and delightful all the same. When they 
 are married to Europeans, though, they become women, 
 true women, as you call them, Jacques." 
 
 " That is not surprising," remarked Clara. " Mis- 
 fortune is supposed to ripen people." 
 
 Every one laughed at this sally. 
 
 " You see," said the Baron, " I told you that the 
 New York woman was a terrible child." 
 
 " Yes, and brilliant and delightful," added the 
 Viscount de Nozay. 
 
 " Christiane, it was an excellent idea to invite us 
 to gouter. I use that word, because Monsieur de 
 Nozay is keen on it," said Madame de Keradieu. " I 
 have not enjoyed a cup of tea so much for a long time." 
 
 " Probably because you have earned it," answered 
 Christiane. 
 
 " Perhaps." 
 
 " Oh, there is great virtue in tea," remarked Jacques. 
 " It acts very agreeably on the brain, drives bad 
 temper away, and makes one feel inclined to talk. I 
 like it for its own sake and then I like it, too, because
 
 112 AMERICAN NOBILITY 
 
 it procures for me the pleasure of being served by 
 women and for us poor Westerners that is rather rare. 
 Tea is an excellent drink when it is prepared for us 
 by refined, graceful, and intelligent hands." 
 
 " I do not quite see where the intelligence comes in," 
 remarked the Duke de Kandan. 
 
 " It is the most important thing of all," answered 
 Jacques, seriously. " A silly, selfish, or frivolous woman 
 cannot give you your tea as you like it. She does 
 not trouble whether it is too strong or too weak, and 
 she invariably gives it to you just as you do not like 
 it. A woman who is intelligent to her very finger-tips, 
 as we say, divines your taste and what she gives you 
 is always perfect." Jacques glanced at the Duchess, 
 as he said this, and it was evident that the compliment 
 was intended for her. " I should be afraid of the 
 other sort of woman dosing me wrongly with every- 
 thing, and that she would be absolutely devoid of 
 intuition, that sixth sense which is so necessary to 
 women." 
 
 " Well, then, we can all rejoice," said Guy, laugh- 
 ing, " for the future Marchioness d'Anguilhon will give 
 us excellent tea." 
 
 " You may count on that." 
 
 " And now, girls," said Madame de Keradieu, " let 
 us go and shut up shop." 
 
 Annie and Clara rose and thanked their hostess, 
 who stayed at the little table for some time talking 
 to the old Prince de Nolles. 
 
 Whilst Madame de Keradieu was giving her orders 
 about the packing of the silver, the Marquis d'An- 
 guilhon approached Annie. 
 
 " It is very good of you," he said to her, " to take 
 such interest in our little Waifs and Strays." He
 
 AMERICAN NOBILITY 113 
 
 looked full at her and, for the first time, with the 
 captivating expression in his eyes, the expression 
 Annie had seen in the portrait. A faint colour came 
 into her face. No one had ever made such an im- 
 pression on her and she was furious with herself. 
 
 " Oh, but I never thought of the little Waifs and 
 Strays," she said, promptly. " I only thought of my 
 own amusement. A bazaar is always such fun." 
 
 " One does not often meet with such frankness as 
 that," remarked Jacques, delighted with Annie's 
 sincerity. 
 
 " Miss Villars is always frank," put in the Viscount 
 de Nozay. " I never heard as many truths expressed 
 as since I have had the honour of knowing her." 
 
 " Truths that have been agreeable for yourself, I 
 hope." 
 
 " Hm, I must tell you that she and I have founded 
 a Society for mutual evolution." 
 
 "A Society for what?" asked Jacques. 
 
 " For mutual evolution," repeated Guy with comic 
 seriousness. " To evolve is to progress. Miss Villars 
 maintains that Europeans have not yet evolved. We 
 are sentimentalists, idealists, excessive in everything 
 because we have not evolved. In our country, children 
 are subject to their parents, women can neither buy 
 nor sell nor give their signature without their hus- 
 bands' permission, simply because we have not evolved 
 and so on. In accordance with this theory, Miss 
 Villars is endeavouring to fight my old prejudices and 
 ideas and to make me give up my old gods. On my 
 side, as I am convinced that, for her, it would be 
 progress to adopt our system, I am trying to produce 
 evolution in the opposite sense. You see the difficulty." 
 
 " I should say the impossibility. Besides, what good
 
 114 AMERICAN NOBILITY 
 
 would it do ? The prejudices and gods of Europe would 
 probably be ridiculous aud in the way in America." 
 
 "Yes, but then I hope that Miss Villars will not 
 return to America," said Guy, who sincerely hoped 
 that Albert de Randan would win the day. 
 
 " Oh, Monsieur de Nozay ! " protested Annie. 
 
 " It is not a question of Monsieur de Nozay, of 
 course. I have my place at table at the Duchess de 
 Blanzac's and at Madame de Keradieu's. All I ask 
 is for a rocking-chair at your fireside. I should then 
 be the happiest of bachelors, for I have taken the vow 
 of celibacy like the knights of Malta." 
 
 " Well, I will invite you to the best and most com- 
 fortable rocking-chair that can be made in New York 
 and it shall have beautiful cushions." 
 
 " A week's journey from Paris, via Havre, all that. 
 No, thank you, I must have it here and in the Faubourg 
 St. Germain even." 
 
 " Ah, you are asking too much," replied the girl 
 drily. 
 
 " Of course," put in Jacques. " If the American 
 man is like Henri's description just now, you can 
 scarcely expect Miss Villars to prefer a Frenchman." 
 
 " On the contrary. A woman loves a man, not for 
 his qualities, as she says, but for his faults." 
 
 " Oh ! " exclaimed Annie. 
 
 " Miss May seems to think that an American woman 
 who marries a European is doomed to unhappiness. 
 Are you of her opinion?" asked Jacques, boldly. 
 
 " Oh, no," answered Annie, laughing. " But I do 
 think it would be impossible to be quite happy away 
 from one's country and one's friends. A husband 
 cannot take the place of everything," she added, 
 naively.
 
 AMERICAN NOBILITY 115 
 
 The Marquis looked at her with an expression of 
 mingled surprise and disdain, which somewhat dis- 
 turbed her equanimity. 
 
 " I thought, and I have always heard it said, that 
 with women love takes the place of everything," he 
 said, coldly. 
 
 " Ah, but you are thinking of women who have not 
 yet evolved," remarked Guy. " Still, Madame de 
 Keradieu left her friends and her country and she is 
 perfectly happy. I have often heard her say that she 
 could not go back and live in America now." 
 
 " Well, I should never like to come to that," said 
 Annie, so decidedly that the Marquis felt a sudden 
 discouragement. 
 
 " I count on my rocking-chair, nevertheless," re- 
 marked the Viscount. 
 
 " And I only hope that you may take back with you 
 pleasant memories of Paris," said Jacques. 
 
 " Oh, yes, that I certainly shall," answered Annie 
 promptly. " Every one has been so kind and so agree- 
 able. I never expected to enjoy myself so much here." 
 
 Madame de Keradieu joined the little group at this 
 moment. 
 
 " Do not forget that you are dining with us to- 
 morrow at eight," she said to the young men. 
 
 " One does not forget pleasant things," answered 
 Jacques. 
 
 " A pretty speech." 
 
 " Coming direct from the heart," corrected Jacques. 
 " If you only call it a pretty speech, it sounds as 
 though you think me a flatterer and, in reality, your 
 Saturday dinners are one of the things I miss the 
 most when I am away from Paris." 
 
 " Thank you," said Madame de Keradieu, holding
 
 116 AMERICAN NOBILITY 
 
 out her hand to the young man, who kissed it with 
 the courtesy of a true grand seigneur. 
 
 On leaving the three American women, Jacques went 
 to the Duchess de Blanzac. 
 
 "Are things going according to your wishes?" she 
 asked. 
 
 " I do not know. The young person seems to me to 
 have a very decided character." 
 
 " Have you broken the ice ? " 
 
 " Yes, and as a result, I had a bucket of water over 
 my head." 
 
 Jacques repeated the conversation he had had with 
 Annie. 
 
 " There is nothing very discouraging in that. While 
 you were talking, I was watching Miss Villars, and I 
 am sure that, for some reason or another, she is 
 interested in you. Trust to my impressions." 
 
 "Oh, I should be only too glad to have faith and 
 to hope." 
 
 " I am going to give the pink dance, of which 1 
 spoke to you," continued Christiane. " You shall lead 
 the cotillon with Mademoiselle de Busset, who is an 
 ideal girl. That will give you prestige with Miss 
 Villars." 
 
 " But I am completely out of practice. I have not 
 done such a thing for six years." 
 
 " Oh, you will do it splendidly." 
 
 " People will think I have broken the bank at Monte 
 Carlo." 
 
 " No matter what people think. The only thing is, 
 do not tell a soul your intentions. Leave the field 
 free for the Duke de Randan. He is not at all dan- 
 gerous. If people imagined that you wanted the 
 heiress, they would not fail to tell her of your pecca-
 
 AMERICAN NOBILITY 117 
 
 dilloei and that would serve to stifle the liking that 
 she now has for you. Later on, when that liking has 
 developed into love, people may say what they like. 
 She would then only listen to her own heart." 
 
 Jacques gave a sigh of relief. 
 
 " Ah, you have raised my courage again. Just now, 
 I must own, I felt sure that my dream was not to 
 be realised." 
 
 " Oh, come, you must not be weak," said Madame 
 de Blanzac. " ' Faint heart never won fair lady.' "
 
 CHAPTER X 
 
 THAT night, for the first time, perhaps, in her life, 
 Annie could not sleep. As soon as she had put out 
 the light, she could see the Bazaar, the Marquis 
 d'Anguilhon's face, hear his words, accompanied as 
 they had been by certain expressions she had read in 
 his eyes, and all this made her mind extremely active. 
 She began to wonder what he meant by a true woman. 
 She supposed he was thinking of a slave, an absurdly 
 devoted creature. She recalled his evident disapproval 
 of the attitude of American men towards women, and 
 this made her think of Frank Barnett. How devoted 
 he had always been and how eager to serve her. In 
 spite of his six feet and his big fortune, he had always 
 been ready to carry her jackets and her sunshades. 
 And more than once, too, he had fanned her. What 
 a good fellow he was! She could not imagine him 
 kissing a woman's hand. He would look ridiculous 
 doing that, whilst it seemed quite natural to the 
 Marquis. It was rather a pretty custom, after all, 
 and Antoinette de Keradieu seemed to have grown 
 quite accustomed to it. And yet to feel the sensation 
 of a man's lips on her hand must surely be horrible. 
 Annie then began to think of what Jacques had 
 said about the serving of the tea. She vowed to her- 
 self that she would never pour tea for him. What an 
 amount of imagination any one must have to discover 
 
 118
 
 AMERICAN NOBILITY 119 
 
 so much in such an everyday thing. And how cold 
 and disdainful he had looked when she had said that 
 a husband could not take the place of everything. She 
 ought not to talk like that before foreigners. It had, 
 perhaps, given the Marquis a very bad opinion of 
 American women. He had, probably, not thought her 
 good enough for a Frenchman, for instead of second- 
 ing Monsieur de Nozay he had seemed to be wishing 
 her a safe journey back to America. The idea that 
 she was to dine with him, the following day at Madame 
 de Keradieu's, caused her a certain joy, not unmingled 
 with anxiety. She said to herself that she should 
 never feel quite at ease with him. He seemed so 
 haughty. How very much he resembled the Seigneur 
 de Blonay. She was gradually getting sleepy and 
 her thoughts became more and more confused. She 
 could see the Versailles portrait distinctly, but s,oon 
 after the faces of the ancestor and the descendant 
 became confused and finally she fell asleep.
 
 CHAPTER XI 
 
 AFTER the Bazaar, Annie and Jacques met almost 
 daily, but they did not appear to make friends easily 
 at all. The young man was introduced to Mrs. Villars, 
 but he merely left his card at her hotel afterwards. 
 He was always strictly correct but rather cold when 
 he met Annie out and did not pay her any special 
 attention. In spite of this, and perhaps even on this 
 account, he excited her feminine curiosity. When she 
 saw him talking to any one else, she always wondered 
 what he was saying, and every word of his to her 
 seemed to linger in her mind. She was interested in 
 all he did and she could not help watching him always. 
 One evening, at the Duchess de Blanzac's, she hap- 
 pened to be in the hall at the same time that he was, 
 when he was leaving, and she noticed the way he took 
 his coat from the footman. She was charmed by his 
 extreme refinement. He was so different from most of 
 the other men and, even in the most commonplace 
 details of everyday life, he seemed like a superior 
 being. 
 
 She had managed to get Madame de Keradieu to 
 tell her the history of the Marquis d'Anguilhon and 
 his family. She was very sorry that he was not rich. 
 It seemed a pity that this descendant of the handsome 
 Joyeuse d'Anguilhon, with the ruffle and doublet, 
 should be obliged to go about on foot or in cabs. He 
 
 120
 
 AMERICAN NOBILITY 121 
 
 ought to have had any amount of money, fine horses, 
 and the best carriages in Paris. 
 
 The Duchess de Blanzac's pink dance was to take 
 place on the Gth of May. Annie was looking forward 
 to it with the greatest pleasure and no doubt the idea 
 that she would dance with " the Van Dyck " added 
 considerably to her excitement. When the great day 
 really arrived and she was driving to the ball, she 
 felt that it was ridiculous to be so excited, but she 
 could not help it in the least. 
 
 The two girls were wearing beautiful dresses of 
 different shades of pink, but which harmonised ad- 
 mirably and suited their complexion and the colour 
 of their hair. 
 
 The Duchess de Blanzac was charmed with their 
 appearance as they entered her drawing-room. She 
 complimented them warmly and this gave Annie a 
 certain assurance. 
 
 Jacques looked very well in his faultlessly cut 
 clothes. He was wearing a rose in his buttonhole, 
 and when he advanced to claim the waltz Annie had 
 promised him, she gave him her hand at once. A 
 most curious thing then happened. Under the impulse 
 of his wish to conquer the young girl, Jacques held her 
 almost too firmly and carried her off, like a prey, into 
 the whirl of the dance, the whole length of the room. 
 Annie drew herself up instinctively and Jacques, feel- 
 ing her resistance, held her still more firmly, not giv- 
 ing way at all. Gradually Annie became more supple 
 in his arms, her feet followed his docilely, and the 
 waltz finished in the most perfect, intoxicating, and 
 delicious harmony. When the Marquis took Annie 
 back to her mother, her cheeks were as pink as her 
 dress. Jacques' eyes shone with triumph. He had
 
 122 AMERICAN NOBILITY 
 
 had too much experience with women not to be fully 
 aware that he had just won a victory. The young 
 girl had unconsciously obeyed him and this was a 
 great deal. 
 
 Annie did not realise what had taken place, but 
 she felt that this waltz had brought them nearer to- 
 gether and had created a sort of understanding be- 
 tween them. When he thanked her, the Marquis had 
 looked at her in a peculiar way, with a gentle expres- 
 sion that had given her great joy. In the mirrors too, 
 as they were dancing, she had seen the outline of their 
 two figures, drawn together, swaying in rhythm to the 
 music of the dance. This picture had been photo- 
 graphed in her brain and would produce the desired 
 effect
 
 CHAPTER XII 
 
 THE day following the Duchess de Blanzac's ball, 
 Mrs. Villars' drawing-room, bright with the flames 
 from the open fire and brilliantly lighted by several 
 lamps, was very picturesque. Here and there were 
 draperies of antique embroidered silks, on the side- 
 tables and on the mantelpiece were valuable curios 
 and uuframed pictures, which represented the dis- 
 coveries and purchases of the last few weeks. There 
 were spring flowers everywhere and, hanging on nails, 
 cotillon trophies. The three American women were 
 writing most diligently. Their brilliant complexions, 
 beautiful hair, and light dresses seemed to add still 
 more brightness to the room. Mrs. Villars was seated 
 at her little table and Annie and Clara in front of 
 the fire, with their writing-cases on their knees. They 
 only stopped writing to ask each other for information 
 or to see whether some detail were quite correct. 
 Their pens seemed inexhaustible and line after line 
 was added, until at last each of them had quite a 
 collection of sheets ready for post. 
 
 Towards nine o'clock, one of the hotel pages an- 
 nounced Madame de Keradieu. 
 
 "Antoinette!" exclaimed the girls, getting up to 
 welcome their visitor, and quickly putting aside all 
 their writing materials. 
 
 " Oh, I am interrupting the letters," said the visitor. 
 " T am sorry." 
 
 123
 
 124 AMERICAN NOBILITY 
 
 " It doeii not matter at all. We have plenty of time 
 for that," replied Mrs. Villars. " Where is Monsieur 
 de Keradieu ? " 
 
 " He will be here soon. He went to the Club to 
 meet Jacques d'Anguilhon. He asked him to go and 
 look at those horses that Annie saw. Henri wanted 
 to have his opinion, for he is one of the best judges 
 of horses in Paris." 
 
 "Oh, it was no use asking him though," said the 
 girl promptly, " for I have quite decided on the bay. 
 It is certainly the more beautiful one; it is a fine 
 animal." 
 
 " Yes, but Henri is doubtful about it and he prefers 
 not being entirely responsible." 
 
 " He is quite right," said Mrs. Villars. " Annie is 
 horribly imprudent. It is quite enough for any one 
 to tell her that a horse is dangerous. She at once 
 wants it. Oh, she is her father's own child." 
 
 " Oh, as for you, mother, you would like me never 
 to ride a horse under twenty years of age," said Annie 
 laughing. 
 
 "Well, what did you think of the ball?" asked 
 Madame de Keradieu. 
 
 " It was splendid, perfect, as a whole and in every 
 detail," answered Annie, enthusiastically. 
 
 " Yes, it certainly was perfect," agreed Madame de 
 Keradieu. " It was a dream for a colourist. That 
 pink whirlpool, with all the shades mingling and, at 
 times, causing the black coats to disappear, was most 
 effective. I do not remember such a gay and brilliant 
 ball. Every woman dancing looked under thirty. Ah, 
 the men did not want any persuading last night. They 
 were all willing enough to dance." 
 
 " The Duchess de Blanzac is an excellent hostess,"
 
 AMERICAN NOBILITY 125 
 
 put in Mrs. Villars, " and she looked very beauti- 
 ful." 
 
 " Yes, did she not?" said Antoinette, looking pleased. 
 " And then what a delightful cotillon we had." 
 
 " The little wheelbarrows of roses were a brilliant 
 idea," put in Clara. 
 
 "And what about this?" said Annie, getting up 
 and taking a large straw hat from a screen. She put 
 it on her head and turned to Madame de Keradieu : 
 
 " Look how well it suits me," she continued. " I 
 shall wear it at the sea. Just think, a straw hat that 
 might cost four sous, with a hundred francs' worth 
 of chic. It looks like one of Virot's creations." 
 
 " It is one of her creations." 
 
 " There, you see, I am right ! " exclaimed Annie, 
 triumphantly. 
 
 " All the same," remarked Clara, " we do things on 
 a bigger scale in America." 
 
 " On too big a scale even. In France, it would be 
 thought bad taste to offer expensive presents to one's 
 guests instead of mere souvenirs." 
 
 "Bad taste?" repeated Clara in a vexed tone. "I 
 do not see why we should conform to the European 
 code of what is fitting. We are quite capable of mak- 
 ing a code for ourselves. We have no chateaux to 
 keep up and our wealth, not being hampered by ex- 
 penses, keeps increasing, thanks to our work. We are 
 quite free to give fetes that are considered too magnifi- 
 cent, if that should amuse us. We are free to cover 
 ourselves with jewellery and to give expensive presents 
 to our friends." 
 
 " But, my dear girl, beauty and taste have certain 
 recognised rules. The first of these rules is simplicity. 
 It is better to keep to that than to err on the other side."
 
 126 AMERICAN NOBILITY 
 
 " Oh, well, I am quite satisfied with us as we are," 
 said Clara, in an amusing way. " I prefer profusion 
 to niggardliness, and youth to old age. Five years 
 ago, on our last trip to Europe, my father took it 
 into his head to go to Devonshire and see the place 
 we came from. We found the old family home, a grey, 
 dilapidated house, and, in the background, century-old 
 trees with rooks' nests. It seemed to us like the 
 abomination of desolation. We went to visit the 
 family graves, in the church and cemetery near. 
 Whilst my father was deciphering some of the names, 
 I thought of our house in Washington Square and of 
 our fine New York cemetery, where the dead seem to 
 be so rich and so comfortable, and I exclaimed: 
 ' Thank God that there was a May intelligent enough 
 to go to America.' " 
 
 " Oh, Clara, you are perfectly impossible," said 
 Madame de Keradieu. 
 
 " I went and bought some flowers," continued the 
 girl, ' and I put some on those poor tombstones, all 
 chipped away by the damp." 
 
 " Well, that was a nice, poetical idea, at any rate." 
 
 " Oh, I do not know about its being poetical. I 
 simply felt that I ought to take a few flowers to the 
 graves of those people whose name I bear. Really 
 and truly though, I have never come to Europe with- 
 out congratulating myself that I was born an Ameri- 
 can. And how I do pity French girls ! Fancy always 
 being watched over and held in a leash like a spaniel. 
 It would make me absolutely evil. I do not fancy 
 they are angels either. They are shy and nervous 
 rather than modest. They blush when a man comes 
 near them and only answer in monosyllables, but their 
 eyes speak volumes. I have never seen an American
 
 AMERICAN NOBILITY 127 
 
 girl with such a look in her eyes. Every gesture and 
 every movement is unnatural. They might be acting 
 in some drawing-room comedy. If they had as much 
 liberty as we have, Heaven knows what they might do 
 with it." 
 
 "Very foolish things, probably," said Madame de 
 Keradieu, " foolish things that would be irreparable. 
 When people are not used to liberty, it is a dangerous 
 thing. Our system of education is all very well for 
 America, but it would have deplorable consequences 
 here. If I had a daughter, I should bring her up as 
 a French girl." 
 
 "Oh, Antoinette!" exclaimed Annie. 
 
 " Yes, and very strictly too ; the habits and customs 
 of the country require it." 
 
 " Nice habits and customs ! " put in Clara. 
 
 " Well, let us be honest. If girls in America can 
 be emancipated without running much danger, to whom 
 do we owe this? To the men who respect them, more 
 than they respect themselves. Is not that so?" 
 
 " Yes, it certainly is, and the liberty they are allowed 
 is beginning to have disastrous consequences. In 
 America, at present, there is an alarming looseness 
 with regard to principles and customs." 
 
 " I used to think as Clara does," continued Madame 
 de Keradieu. " The system of feminine education in 
 Europe used to seem barbarous to me. I now find 
 that it has many advantages. In the first place, it en- 
 ables girls to have a longer time of innocence, reverie, 
 and illusions. It also preserves their moral and phys- 
 ical freshness and that is a great charm, a charm 
 that men appreciate greatly." 
 
 " I hope you do not approve of the way marriages 
 are arranged in France?" said Annie.
 
 128 AMERICAN NOBILITY 
 
 " Yes, I do, for it is the outcome of the system 
 of education. It has its good side, too. It very rarely 
 happens that parents oblige their daughter to marry 
 a man she does not care for. Before a young man 
 is introduced to her, the parents have made inquiries 
 about him, about his family, his past life, his health, 
 and his character. In this way, she has a certain 
 security and does not run the risk of giving her 
 affection to a man unworthy of it." 
 
 " Well, I can only see one advantage in the system," 
 said Clara. " If the marriage turns out badly, a 
 French girl has the satisfaction of being able to lay 
 the blame on her father and mother, whilst with us, 
 we can only tear our own hair out, as the fault is 
 always our own, and that is annoying." 
 
 " Ah, I never thought of that," said Madame de 
 Keradieu, very much amused. 
 
 " But a girl could never love a husband chosen by 
 her parents," objected Annie. 
 
 " And why not, if you please ? You have no idea 
 how quickly a girl falls in love when she has been 
 brought up within convent walls or in austere sur- 
 roundings. Henri maintains that the love born of 
 marriage is the strongest and most lasting of all love 
 and I believe it is." 
 
 " And yet there are not many happy marriages in 
 France," said Clara. 
 
 " That is quite a mistake, my dear girl. You must 
 not judge society by the novels or by the stage as, 
 for some incomprehensible reason, we get nothing but 
 scenes from fast life. Temptations of all kinds abound 
 in Paris and conjugal faithfulness may be more rare 
 there, but Paris is not the French nation. In the 
 provinces, people are very serious and even rigid, and
 
 AMERICAN NOBILITY 129 
 
 families are very united. You may take my word for 
 it that you will not find as many fine characters and 
 virtuous people anywhere as you will find in France." 
 
 " Is Mademoiselle de Busset, who led the cotillon 
 with Monsieur d'Anguilhon, rich ? " asked Annie, 
 abruptly. 
 
 " Yes, she will have rather a big dowry." 
 
 " Well, she would be the wife for your friend, then." 
 
 " Why, Annie," exclaimed Madame de Keradieu, 
 " are you suggesting marrying for money ? " 
 
 " Oh, I do not approve of that way of increasing 
 one's income. Still, I can better understand now that 
 a man with a great name, a title, and no money may 
 be obliged to look out for a dowry." 
 
 " He might work," suggested Clara. 
 
 " But if every one were producing and earning 
 money, there would soon be too many on the field." 
 
 " In America, every one is producing and earning 
 money," persisted Clara. 
 
 " Yes, it does not matter there, as our country is 
 immense and then, too, it is a country that is still 
 being made. We are too rich, though, already. Henri 
 maintains a theory which sounds like a paradox, but 
 on thinking it over you will see that it is true. He 
 says that every living creature works, as every one is 
 active in some way and every one spends and absorbs. 
 There are beings of a luxurious kind, just as there are 
 thoroughbred horses, but they are not more idle than 
 the other sort. Take the Duchess de Blanzac, for 
 instance. It took her quite a fortnight of hard work 
 to organise that ball, and the ball gave work to num- 
 bers of arms, legs, and brains and cost about a hundred 
 thousand francs. The Marquis d'Anguilhon could not 
 paint pictures, but he would know what pictures to
 
 130 AMERICAN NOBILITY 
 
 buy. I am very sorry indeed that he does not own 
 millions, for he would make the best possible use of 
 them, and it is not at all an easy thing to spend well. 
 Mademoiselle de Busset's dowry would not be enough 
 for him, and I very much fear that he will be the 
 last of his race. He will never marry, if he cannot 
 keep up his rank, get back the Blonay chateau, and 
 keep up their house in the Rue de Varenne." 
 
 " It is a wonder that he has not tried to capture 
 some poor American heiress." 
 
 " He had the opportunity of marrying one who was 
 immensely rich." 
 
 "Really?" 
 
 " Yes. Two years ago, the Marchioness Taller took 
 it into her head to get him married to a wealthy 
 heiress. All seemed to be going splendidly, when 
 Monsieur d'Anguilhon suddenly declared that he did 
 not want to marry. From what I gathered the young 
 person was a parvenue, one of those American girls 
 who persist in wearing whole bushes of flowers, and 
 rings that are much too noticeable. The long and 
 short of it is that Madame Taller has never forgiven 
 him. With a mother like his, he could never marry 
 a girl with no education. Next time we go to America, 
 we intend to take him with us. I should like him to 
 have a right idea of our country. We like him very 
 much. What do you think of him ? " 
 
 " I like him," answered Annie, promptly. 
 
 " His nose is perfect," added her cousin. 
 
 " Oh, Clara ! " protested Madame de Keradieu. 
 
 " Well, I have a weakness for a well-cut nose. It 
 was George's nose that made me accept him. I am 
 sure I shall be glad to look at it all my life." 
 
 " I like Frenchmen better than I should have
 
 AMERICAN NOBILITY 131 
 
 thought it possible to like them," said Annie. " They 
 are so amusing, and even interesting. Some of them, 
 not all, by any means, have a very nice way with 
 women." 
 
 " It would be droll if Annie were to marry a 
 Frenchman, after all," said Madame de Keradieu. 
 
 " Oh, as to that, never ! " answered the young girl, 
 emphatically. 
 
 " Thank Heaven, she still has a gleam of common- 
 sense," put in Clara. 
 
 " That is nice for me, considering that I am married 
 to a Frenchman." 
 
 " Oh, well, your husband is your excuse. You must 
 admit that there are not many like him in Paris." 
 
 " Nor anywhere else." 
 
 Just at this moment, there was a rap at the door 
 and, to the surprise of every one, Monsieur de Keradieu 
 appeared accompanied by Jacques. 
 
 Annie could not help feeling a certain emotion. 
 Monsieur d'Anguilhon apologised for arriving in the 
 evening in so informal a way. 
 
 " Oh, yes, I had to drag him in by sheer force," 
 said Monsieur de Keradieu. " I thought that the two 
 of us might perhaps manage to persuade Miss Villars 
 to give up the idea of the bay horse to which she has 
 taken such a fancy." 
 
 "Give it up? Never! I tried it yesterday at the 
 riding-school. We understand each other perfectly 
 already and I feel quite sure that I can hold him in." 
 
 " Yes, but d'Anguilhon has the same impression that 
 I had. We both think the creature capable of playing 
 a trick on its rider." 
 
 " Oh, Annie, do not be obstinate," implored Mrs. 
 Villars.
 
 132 AMERICAN NOBILITY 
 
 " But, mother, you do not understand anything about 
 horses," replied the girl, slightly irritated. " I believe 
 you can just tell their heads from their tails." 
 
 Every one laughed except Jacques, and Annie felt 
 intuitively that he was rather badly impressed by her 
 retort. 
 
 " It is true," she continued, more gently," that one 
 must love riding to understand the pleasure there is 
 in mounting a lively thoroughbred that is a little 
 difficult to manage." 
 
 " I certainly do not understand that pleasure, but 
 I do understand the grief it would be to me if you 
 were to be crippled and disfigured." 
 
 " Do not be alarmed, Madame," said Jacques, " we 
 will not let your daughter buy a dangerous horse." 
 
 "But what vice have you discovered in this bay?" 
 
 " None, except that it is extremely nervous. Mounted 
 by a man, there would be no fear of anything happen- 
 ing, but I should not like to see a woman on its back." 
 
 " But it is such a beautiful creature," said Annie, 
 her eyes moist with vexation and disappointment. 
 
 " Agreed, but the other one is superb too. You will 
 have your work before you there, but he is more even. 
 It is a horse for a queen." 
 
 Annie was just on the verge of making another im- 
 patient speech. She tried to brave Jacques' eyes which 
 were fixed full on her. 
 
 " You are two to one," she said, shrugging her 
 shoulders and twisting the end of her waistband 
 nervously. " I am obliged to give in. I will have 
 the other one." 
 
 " That 's right. There 's a reasonable girl. It is 
 not often that an American gives in with such good 
 grace,'' said Monsieur de Keradieu.
 
 AMERICAN NOBILITY 133 
 
 " Are they so very independent ? " asked Jacques. 
 
 " Independent? I should just think they are. In 
 the first place, in the United States, every one refrains 
 from giving advice even to one's nearest and dearest 
 relatives. With us, we should call the system egoism ; 
 over there they call it respect for individual liberty. 
 An American I know read the little notice here in 
 the omnibus by which the Prefect of Police advises 
 the passengers not to get out until they see that they 
 can do so without danger. He was amazed and 
 thought the warning not only ridiculous but imper- 
 tinent. He considered that it was an infringement on 
 one's liberty the liberty we have to get run over if 
 we like. That will give you an idea of the spirit of 
 the country." 
 
 " Then, Mademoiselle, I must ask you to forgive me 
 for having wished to prevent you from breaking your 
 neck," said Jacques, with a sly smile. 
 
 " And in accordance with European ways and cus- 
 toms, I suppose I ought to thank you for your interest 
 on my behalf?" 
 
 " Certainly," answered Jacques. 
 
 "Bravo," exclaimed Monsieur de Keradieu, "now you 
 have each done your duty." 
 
 " I am surprised that you had the courage to marry 
 an American woman," said Annie, by way of avenging 
 herself on some one for the defeat she had just 
 sustained. 
 
 " You see, I am naturally brave," replied Monsieur 
 de Keradieu, " and then I felt that I should be able 
 to obtain my wife's respect and submission." 
 
 " Oh, poor American women ! If only they knew 
 what awaited them in Europe!" remarked Clara, in 
 a joking way.
 
 134 AMERICAN NOBILITY 
 
 " They would all come, if they did know," said Mon- 
 sieur de Keradieu, promptly. He then caught sight of 
 the blotting cases and letters. " Ah," he continued, 
 " and so you were writing? I am sure you have sent 
 home good descriptions of the ball last night. In a 
 hundred years' time, there will be some interesting 
 documents about Europe to be found in the United 
 States. All this correspondence will then be very 
 valuable." 
 
 " I hope ours may be as valuable as the rest," said 
 Annie. 
 
 The two men now rose to take leave and, whilst 
 Madame de Keradieu was putting on her mantle, Annie 
 said to the baron: 
 
 "Well, then, I count on you for buying me the 
 famous horse." 
 
 " Yes, you will have it the day after to-morrow and 
 then we will begin our morning rides." 
 
 " I shall be thankful, for I need exercise and fresh 
 air." 
 
 Just before leaving, the Marquis d'Anguilhon looked 
 full at Annie and said, quietly: 
 
 " You do not owe me any grudge, do you ? " 
 
 He held out his hand to her for the first time and 
 Annie put her hand in his and said with a gay smile : 
 
 " None whatever." 
 
 When the visitors had gone, the three women sat 
 down again to their writing, but Annie could no longer 
 give her mind to her letter. The conversation that 
 had just taken place, and the face of " Van Dyck " 
 kept interfering with her descriptions. No, she could 
 not imagine the descendant of the Seigneur de Blonay 
 marrying a vulgar American girl. It would be a great 
 pity, too, she thought. She felt sure that the Marquis
 
 AMERICAN NOBILITY 135 
 
 d'Angnilhon would not be a very easy man to get on 
 with. How authoritative he had been just now, and 
 yet she could not bear him any ill-will, for it was, 
 after all, a proof of his interest in her welfare. She 
 felt as though they had now become friends and this 
 thought made her quite joyous. Without being aware 
 of it herself at the time, she felt that ever since she 
 had first met him she had wanted to be on friendly 
 terms with him.
 
 CHAPTER XIII 
 
 THE Marquis, on his side, knew that the ice was 
 now broken for Miss Villars and himself. The next 
 time he met her, he talked to her as though he had 
 now entered into the circle of her life and were not 
 going out of it again. 
 
 He talked to Annie in a friendly way, which put 
 her completely off her guard. In spite of Jacques' 
 absolutely simple manners, she stood somewhat in awe 
 of him and would not have ventured to joke with 
 him just as she did with the Viscount de Nozay or 
 the Baron de Keradieu. When he was present, she 
 never attacked European routine and prejudices and, 
 although she was always decided, she was uncon- 
 sciously more gentle. With him, too, she was more 
 careful about her French. If she made any mistake, 
 he always corrected her very calmly, and she was 
 grateful to him for this. She liked him to come and 
 talk to her, as this flattered her vanity. When he was 
 with her, she always felt more important, and she had 
 never had this sentiment with any other man, not 
 even with the Duke de Randan. 
 
 Although Jacques never paid her any compliments, 
 she could tell when he was especially pleased with her 
 appearance, and the delight that this caused her 
 animated her whole expression. 
 
 Annie did not realise the gravity of these symptoms 
 
 136
 
 AMERICAN NOBILITY 1ST 
 
 and, strangely enough, she thought more of Frank 
 Barnett just now than she had thought of him since 
 she had left New York. She remembered all the 
 pleasant excursions in his yacht and all the fetes of 
 which she had been the queen. A hundred different 
 instances of his kindness and generosity came to her 
 mind. She wrote to his sister, Mrs. Adair, a letter of 
 some twenty pages, knowing full well that he would 
 read it through, from the first line to the last, and 
 she asked for a photograph of his villa at Lenox. She 
 very often looked at his portrait and, one day, she 
 took it up, gazed at it attentively, and said aloud: 
 " What a good fellow he is ! " A kind of secret in- 
 stinct seemed to draw her towards this friend of her 
 childhood, just at a time when her fate was separating 
 her from him for ever. 
 
 Jacques, though perfectly tranquil to all appear- 
 ances, was feverishly anxious. At one moment he was 
 most hopeful, and directly afterwards thoroughly dis- 
 couraged. He kept wondering whether this marriage 
 was to be or was not to be and, with his nerves strained 
 to the utmost tension, he kept trying to look ahead. 
 
 He had ample time and opportunity for studying 
 Annie. She was quite a fresh type of girl to him, 
 with her studied elegance, her independent character 
 and manners and her knowledge of life and of the 
 world. He was somewhat disconcerted by her and 
 even a trifle horrified. He soon saw though, that, in 
 spite of her emancipation, her soul was very fresh and 
 even childlike and he was greatly impressed by her 
 pure mind. Underneath her modernism he saw that 
 she had the qualities which are peculiar to people of 
 old standing and he said to himself that, thanks to 
 these qualities, she and his mother would get on well
 
 138 AMERICAN NOBILITY 
 
 together. He was delighted with her pleasantness, for 
 it was so easy to entertain and interest her. It was 
 not necessary to go far afield when he wanted to get 
 her attention. He felt a sort of restfulness and 
 repose when he was with her, as she was not at all 
 like the women with complex natures he had hitherto 
 known. He realised though, that although it was easy 
 to entertain her, it would not be easy to win her. 
 She was neither sensuous, romantic, nor ambitious, so 
 that he could not find any vulnerable point. The more 
 he saw of her, the more he realised how much of a 
 foreigner she was and how devoted she was to her 
 own country and to her own people. When, with her 
 usual assurance, she talked to him about her return 
 to America, or showed him some fresh acquisition for 
 their New York house, he could not help feeling a 
 slight pang and, for days afterwards, everything seemed 
 very gloomy to him, and he would say to himself that 
 the idea of this marriage was nothing but one of the 
 snares and delusions that a man so often finds on his 
 pathway through life. 
 
 Jacques had frequent opportunities of judging 
 Annie's strength of character. One evening, at the 
 Duchess de Blanzac's, she had declined to play poker, 
 because it was Sunday. The Duke de Randan had 
 suggested that God could not really mind whether 
 people played cards or not that day. 
 
 " That may be so," said Annie, " indeed it very 
 probably is so, but, as my religion forbids me, I 
 cannot play." 
 
 The others were all cruel enough to persuade her, 
 but she resisted, although tears of disappointment came 
 into her eyes. 
 
 This strong sense of duty had raised her consider-
 
 AMERICAN NOBILITY 139 
 
 ably in Jacques' esteem, but it also alarmed him, for, 
 as he said to himself, the same sense of duty might 
 urge her to refuse to marry a Catholic. He recognised 
 now how wise Madame de L6ne had been in insisting 
 that he should put himself in the hands of the Duchess 
 de Blanzac. If it had not been for her, he would cer- 
 tainly have tried to hurry matters and so would 
 have lost every possible chance of success. She guided 
 him with that tact and skill peculiar to extremely 
 intelligent women. She knew that if Jacques failed 
 now, he would start for Africa, and she was sure that 
 in his disappointment he would be utterly reckless of 
 his life. This marriage became the great subject of 
 her thoughts and there were days when, on seeing 
 Annie and thinking of the power this girl held in her 
 hands, she was tempted to say straight out to her: 
 " Do try to save him." Ever since she had taken the 
 matter up herself, she had felt worried and anxious. 
 She realised now that she ought never to have mixed 
 herself up with this marriage, but it was very clear 
 that she could not get out of it now. 
 
 She was always thinking how she could help Jacques 
 and she was constantly inventing opportunities for 
 him to meet Annie. She talked of him frequently to 
 the girl and very cleverly showed up all his good 
 qualities. Her knowledge of the feminine mind was 
 so thorough that every word she uttered carried. 
 Providence had certainly chosen its instrument 
 admirably. 
 
 The Duchess de Blanzac studied Annie with intense 
 curiosity. She saw that she was interested in Jacques 
 and that his presence acted on her. If on entering the 
 room, he did not very soon go and talk to her, Annie 
 would watch him nervouslv and become absent-minded.
 
 140 AMERICAN NOBILITY 
 
 When he approached her, a joyful light would come 
 into her eyes and her whole face would take a gentler 
 expression. 
 
 Of course all this might be a straw fire, due simply 
 to vanity. Christiane did not dare raise Jacques' hopes 
 too much, but she told him that she thought he had 
 a fair chance of success. 
 
 He called on her every day to talk things over. He 
 always arrived a little before two o'clock, in order to 
 find her alone. She always awaited his visit with a 
 certain anxiety. Sometimes he would arrive with a 
 radiant face, and at others looking very much dis- 
 couraged. He kept her well posted, told her every 
 incident connected with himself and Annie, and even 
 repeated to her their conversations. The Duchess 
 listened attentively, gave him advice, and generally 
 succeeded in instilling into him the calmness and force 
 that he needed. 
 
 After talking about Annie, they would discuss a 
 hundred other interesting subjects, art, literature, 
 philosophy, and social topics. These talks seemed to 
 draw them together again, after the separation which 
 the various events of their respective lives had caused 
 between them. This exchange of ideas and of senti- 
 ments joined, once more, the thread of their two exist- 
 ences and worked on their souls in a subtle, unconscious 
 way which was to take effect in the future.
 
 CHAPTER XIV 
 
 CLARA was at St. Germain with some of her friends, 
 and Mrs. Villars and Annie had dined alone. On 
 leaving the table, Annie picked up the newspaper and 
 looked at the theatrical column. 
 
 " Oh, they are giving the Brigands, this evening," 
 she said, " at the Vari6tes. I have never seen it and 
 it is the last time they will give it this season. Why 
 not go?" 
 
 "Alone?" 
 
 " Why not? We will take Catherine and engage one 
 of those lower boxes in which you are scarcely seen 
 at all. It will be fun." 
 
 "Very well, we will go to the Vari6t6s," said Mrs. 
 Villars, who never liked to deprive her daughter of 
 anything which could amuse her. 
 
 Annie at once gave the necessary orders to their 
 courier and ordered a little oyster and champagne 
 supper, enjoying the thought of Clara's surprise when 
 she returned. 
 
 An hour later, she was seated in one of those mys- 
 terious looking boxes, which had often tempted her. 
 She lifted the screen, in order to be still less seen. 
 
 " There," she said laughing, " we are quite at home 
 now." 
 
 The house was full, but with a very ordinary public, 
 chiefly composed of tourists, middle-class people, and 
 
 141
 
 142 AMERICAN NOBILITY 
 
 servants. There were also about a dozen men in dress 
 coats and, in the orchestra stalls, a few foreign women, 
 the elegant toilettes of girls making a pleasant con- 
 trast to the dull-looking house on this last night of 
 the season. Annie did not see a single face she knew. 
 Suddenly, her heart began to beat quickly, for in the 
 doorway she had just caught sight of Jacques. She 
 could scarcely believe her eyes and all at once she 
 felt most uneasy. It was all in vain that she began 
 to say to herself that she had every right to come to 
 the Vari6t6s, if she liked, with her mother. She was 
 not at all sure that she had not been rather im- 
 prudent. She knew how strict the Marquis d'An- 
 guilhon was about all matters of etiquette and she 
 felt rather afraid that he might disapprove. She 
 wished they could get away and she was delighted 
 that, at any rate, they were invisible. Only two of 
 the boxes had their screens up and, as soon as there 
 was an interval, the young men began to promenade 
 in front of them, hoping to recognise the occupants. 
 They only glanced at the one on the left, but they kept 
 coming back and standing in front of the one in which 
 the three women were seated. One of them, who looked 
 like a wealthy foreigner, was particularly bold. He 
 planted himself in the middle of the gangway and 
 gazed in a daring way at the girl who was so well 
 chaperoned and so jealously guarded. Annie was 
 amused at first at the curiosity she was exciting, but 
 she soon began to feel alarmed at these gleaming eyes 
 fixed on her. She had never been stared at in this 
 way. She changed colour and her confusion increased 
 when she became convinced she had been taken for a 
 demi-mondaine. Mrs. Villars and Catherine gave vent 
 to their indignation.
 
 AMERICAN NOBILITY 143 
 
 Jacques had remained in his place, but was stand- 
 ing up, with his back to the stage looking at the house. 
 He soon noticed \vhat was going on around the mys- 
 terious box and, curious to see the woman who was 
 causing the sensation, he strolled down towards the 
 box and glanced in as he passed. He was horrified 
 on recognising Annie and her mother. Just at first 
 he had a bad impression, but he quickly guessed how 
 matters stood. He went quickly into the lobby, 
 knocked at the door of the box, entered, and, before 
 pronouncing a word, lowered the screen. He was very 
 pale and evidently rather excited. 
 
 " Excuse me," he said to the two women, " but that 
 screen might cause you most disagreeable adventures." 
 
 "Ah, that was why people were gazing at us in 
 such a strange way?" said Mrs. Villars. "Thank 
 you very much for coming to tell us." 
 
 " What harm can there be in putting up the 
 screens?" asked Annie, quite disconcerted. 
 
 " There is really no harm, but they are only used 
 by people who have special reasons for hiding 
 themselves, or who do not wish to be seen in bad 
 company." 
 
 " Oh," exclaimed Annie, " I had no idea of that." 
 
 " No, you could not, of course, have any idea of 
 such things," said Jacques, smiling. 
 
 " I ought to have known," put in Mrs. Villars. 
 
 Annie laughed. 
 
 " Oh, fancy your imagining such things ! You are 
 much less likely to than I am." 
 
 This remark of a daughter to her mother seemed to 
 Jacques simply delightful. 
 
 " This country is full of traps," continued Annie, 
 with a shade of annoyance in her voice. " In America,
 
 144 AMERICAN NOBILITY 
 
 women are safe everywhere. Here, a girl cannot go 
 with her mother and her maid to see the Brigands." 
 
 " Oh, yes," said Jacques," provided you do not take 
 a box with screens. Confess now that you felt it was 
 a little risky and that the forbidden fruit tempted 
 you." 
 
 " Yes," she owned frankly, colouring slightly, " it 
 did." 
 
 " You see with us a woman can come and go, say 
 and do what she likes, provided she keeps within the 
 bounds that are allowed her. If, out of thoughtless- 
 ness or out of curiosity, she takes it into her head to 
 overstep the boundaries, men consider that they, too, 
 are entitled to go beyond the boundaries and she risks 
 being taken for what she is not," said Jacques. 
 
 " And that is just what has happened to us to-night, 
 tbanks to my daughter's brilliant idea," observed Mrs. 
 Villars. 
 
 " Those horrible young men have gone," said Annie. 
 
 " Yes, they see that they were mistaken. You need 
 not be afraid now." 
 
 " We can congratulate ourselves that you chanced to 
 come to this theatre to-night," continued Mrs. Villars. 
 
 " I do not think there is such a thing as chance," 
 replied Jacques. " I went as far as the Gymnase with 
 a friend and, on my way back, I was looking at the 
 poster outside this theatre, when a street hawker put 
 a programme into my hand. I felt irresistibly drawn 
 towards the entrance and I now see why." He glanced 
 at Annie as he said this with an expression in his 
 eyes which somewhat disturbed her equanimity. 
 
 The curtain was just being raised and Jacques moved 
 towards the door to return to his place, but Mrs. 
 Villars invited him to remain in their box.
 
 AMERICAN NOBILITY 145 
 
 Annie appeared to be giving all her attention to the 
 play, but the light in her eyes, the expression of her 
 whole face, and the slight quivering of her lips betrayed 
 sensations which Offenbach's music could never have 
 produced. Jacques' glance had been so direct and so 
 tender that it had given her the most delightful joy, 
 and she now felt proud and happy to be under his 
 protection. Within the limited space of the box, his 
 magnetism acted strongly on her and, for the first 
 time, she was conscious that there was a bond between 
 them. 
 
 She did not turn round towards him until the end 
 of the act and then she said, in a voice that trembled 
 slightly : 
 
 " Do you know that the Duchess is going to Deau- 
 ville for two days and she is taking Clara and me with 
 her? She wants to tempt us to rent a villa there for 
 the season." 
 
 "Oh, I warn you that a conspiracy has been 
 organised to prevent your going to England, and I 
 am at the head of it," said Jacques, boldly. 
 
 " You ! " exclaimed Annie, again confused. 
 
 " Yes I am to spend July and August near Trouville 
 with an uncle, and I shall be very glad if you are 
 there. Besides, you really ought to see Normandy. 
 There are some curious little towns and a few fine 
 chateaux to visit. The suburbs of Trouville and Deau- 
 ville are charming. You can ride, boat, drive the 
 English gig that Keradieu will not let you drive in 
 the Bois. Then, too, you can torment that poor Guy 
 de Nozay, drive the Duke de Randan to despair, and 
 finish by converting me to modernism." 
 
 " Finish converting you in two months! " exclaimed 
 Annie, impulsively. " Why, it would take years."
 
 146 AMERICAN NOBILITY 
 
 As soon as she had uttered these words, she realised 
 what they might signify and her face flushed to the 
 roots of her hair. 
 
 " Well, let it take years," said Jacques, half joking 
 and half in earnest, and not appearing to notice 
 Annie's embarrassment. 
 
 " Putting my selfishness out of the question, though," 
 he continued, " it seems to me you would be better 
 at Deauville, in July and August, than in England. 
 What do you think, Madame?" he asked, turning to 
 Mrs. Villars. 
 
 " Oh, I should certainly prefer going to the sea to 
 commencing churches and picture galleries again." 
 
 " You hear that," said Jacques, triumphantly. 
 
 " Oh, yes, but I did not come to Europe to lead the 
 life of a society woman and waste my time at a seaside 
 place. What will they say in America if I go back 
 without having seen England ? " 
 
 " You can go in September." 
 
 "And what about Switzerland?" 
 
 " You can keep that for another time." 
 
 " I would rather keep to the plan I mapped out. I 
 blame myself already for having departed from it. 
 We were to start for London the last week in May, 
 and Madame de Keradieu persuaded us to stay for 
 the Grand Prix. Then Mr. Ottis's sister arrived and 
 Clara wanted to stay until the 15th. Now, there is 
 this question of Deauville and Antoinette wants us to 
 go to her in Touraine. You see what all these changes 
 are doing. It is very odd, but ever since I have been 
 over here, I do not do what I had decided to do, or 
 what I really ought to do. Some one or something 
 upsets my plans all the time." 
 
 " I feel very much inclined to try the effect of
 
 AMERICAN NOBILITY 147 
 
 suggestion on you," said Jacques, " and to make it 
 impossible for you to go away." 
 
 " Oh, no ! " exclaimed Annie, as though terror- 
 stricken, " please do not." 
 
 Jacques feared that he had gone too far. 
 
 " Do not be alarmed," he said, " I have not the 
 ' power.' Your friendship for the Keradieus and the 
 beauty of Deauville will keep you, I hope. Own now 
 that you are just a little tempted to stay with us? " 
 
 " I am very much tempted," replied Annie, with her 
 usual candour. 
 
 "That's right." 
 
 " It seems to me that it is wrong," said Annie, 
 slowly. 
 
 " Wrong to give pleasure to your friends ? " 
 
 " No, but to let one's self be persuaded like this. I 
 really believe that this country is demoralising." 
 
 During this conversation, Catherine, who had not 
 understood a word of it, had been observing her young 
 mistress and the Marquis. Curiosity, surprise, and 
 anxiety could have been read on her face. Jacques 
 had not been paying any attention to her, but he sud- 
 denly met her limpid eyes fixed full on him. From 
 the hostile expression he read in them, he realised that 
 the good woman had guessed his intentions. He felt 
 slightly embarrassed and feared lest she might put 
 Annie on her guard. In order to deceive her, he at 
 once appeared absolutely indifferent and, noticing this 
 sudden change and fearing she had unintentionally 
 vexed him, Annie turned to him several times and 
 laughed with him over the amusing part of the 
 play. 
 
 After the curtain fell, Jacques accompanied Mrs. 
 Yillars and Annie to their carriage. Mrs. Villars
 
 148 AMERICAN NOBILITY 
 
 thanked him warmly and Annie, for the first time, 
 put out her hand voluntarily to him. 
 He clasped it warmly and said to her : 
 " Let the decision about Deauville be satisfactory." 
 Jacques went away feeling happy and almost tri- 
 umphant. He walked home thinking over the various 
 incidents of the evening. Providence was certainly 
 with him. There could be no doubt about that. The 
 circumstance of the box had been most useful to him. 
 Then he had been, as it were, inspired to make a sort 
 of declaration to Annie. His words had caused her 
 a certain emotion, but had not alarmed her. In her 
 limpid eyes, he had seen that special gleam which he 
 knew well and which is only caused by love. He had 
 felt distinctly that she was in his power. He was 
 sure that she would not go away, and if she went to 
 Deauville, it meant victory. He felt certain now, for 
 the first time, that this marriage was to be. 
 
 He did not care to go to his club with the deep 
 joy in his heart that he now felt. In order that it 
 should last longer, and that he could more thoroughly 
 appreciate it, he turned homewards and, whilst smok- 
 ing an exquisite cigar, began once more the dreams of 
 happiness and fortune from which he had so often 
 been abruptly roused. 
 
 Clara arrived at the hotel before her aunt and cousin 
 and was surprised to find them out. 
 
 " Well," she said, when they returned, " and so you 
 take advantage of my absence for going to the little 
 theatres ! " 
 
 " Oh, we have had quite enough of them, I can 
 assure you," replied Mrs. Villars, telling what had 
 happened.
 
 AMERICAN NOBILITY 149 
 
 " Why, it was quite an adventure, and to think that 
 I missed it ! I should like to have seen the ' Van 
 Dyck's ' face when he discovered you in a private box 
 with the screen up." 
 
 " He was very useful, I can assure you," said Mrs. 
 Villars. " If he had not been there, we should prob- 
 ably have been followed home, for it is quite certain 
 that Annie was taken for a demi-mondaine or some- 
 thing of that sort." 
 
 " It is lucky for you that Monsieur d'Anguilhon did 
 not call out your admirer, Annie. You might have 
 fallen in love with him and offered him your hand and 
 your money. It is true that he is in love with the 
 Duchess, though." 
 
 Annie was standing up and her face was hidden by 
 the lamp-shade, so that her cousin did not see the 
 fleeting emotion which her little speech caused. 
 
 *' In love with the Duchess ? " repeated Annie. 
 "Who told you so?" 
 
 " No one. It is easy enough to see it, though." 
 
 Annie made no further remark. She drank half a 
 glass of champagne and, without touching the rest of 
 the little supper she had ordered, she went to her room 
 on the plea of a headache. 
 
 While helping her to undress, Catherine was watch- 
 ing her. She brushed her hair silently for a few 
 minutes and then, looking at her in the glass, she 
 suddenly said : 
 
 " Miss Annie, Mr. Frank is much better than that 
 Marquis who came into your box to-night." 
 
 " What connection is there between Mr. Frank and 
 Monsieur d'Anguilhon ? " she asked, in a cold, distant 
 way, turning very red. 
 
 None."
 
 150 AMERICAN NOBILITY 
 
 Makay was offended and she went on plaiting her 
 young mistress's hair in a vigorous way. 
 
 Annie did not ask for any further explanation ;nnl 
 her toilette was finished in sulky silence. In order to 
 get rid of Catherine as quickly as possible, she did 
 not make peace with her, but just dismissed her with 
 a curt " Good-night." 
 
 In love with the Duchess and it was easy enough for 
 any one to see it! As soon as Annie was alone and 
 in bed, she kept repeating this phrase which had 
 affected her so deeply. With her hands behind her 
 head, her eyebrows knit, and a fixed gaze in her eyes, 
 she made an effort to see for herself. The Marquis 
 certainly seemed to be very intimate with Madame de 
 Blanzac. It was not surprising though, for they had 
 been friends from childhood. He admired her and was 
 very devoted to her, just as the Viscount de Nozay 
 was and indeed all those who came into contact with 
 her. No, there was nothing in his manner to make 
 any one suppose that he was in love, or even that 
 there was any flirtation between them. Then, too, the 
 Duchess was free and rich. If he were in love with 
 her, would he not have married her? 
 
 "Clara must have been dreaming," she said to herself, 
 and then Makay's words came back to her mind and 
 troubled her again. For some time, the Marquis had 
 seemed keenly interested in all that she did. He 
 talked to her a great deal, asked her about America 
 and about her friends there. He had said, several 
 times, "now sorry he should be when she left and he 
 had begged her to stay until the Duchess and the 
 Keradieus left Paris. She had almost promised to do 
 so and now he was trying to persuade her to spend 
 the summer in Normandy, and he had openly expressed
 
 AMERICAN NOBILITY 151 
 
 his hope to meet her there. That evening, at the 
 theatre, he had acted as though Annie had been his 
 own sister or the Duchess herself. And he had kept 
 his eyes fixed on her all the time and it must have 
 looked as though he were saying all sorts of things 
 to her, since Catherine had thought he was making 
 love to her. 
 
 How had it all come about? Annie began to ex- 
 amine her own conduct. She had never flirted with 
 the Marquis, as she would not have dared to do so, 
 but she had allowed him to see that she liked him 
 and that his attentions were not disagreeable to her! 
 This Was a mistake, as Heaven knew what he had 
 imagined from this. If she stayed on in Paris and 
 then went to Deauville, he would consider that she was 
 encouraging him. Then, too, she would meet him daily, 
 and their intimacy, which was already too great, would 
 increase, and perhaps, in the end, he would propose 
 to her. 
 
 This idea, which occurred to her now for the first 
 time, caused her a shock and inspired her with an 
 instinctive dread. Supposing that he did propose ! It 
 would be terrible to have to refuse him. Could she 
 refuse him? Annie thought of him with his golden 
 brown eyes and then of the portrait at Versailles, and 
 her heart sank within her. 
 
 She must go away at once. That would be the most 
 straightforward course. Monsieur d'Anguilhon would 
 come to America next year, as he had promised, and 
 she would do the honours of New York and introduce 
 him everywhere. Their friendship would not be broken 
 in this way and they would both have pleasant mem- 
 ories. Yes, that was decided. She would just go to 
 Deauville with the Duchess and the Keradieus. That
 
 152 AMERICAN NOBILITY 
 
 would pledge her to nothing, but she would not allow 
 herself to be persuaded into renting a villa there and, 
 on the fifteenth, without fail, she would leave Paris. 
 
 The heroic resolution did not suffice for restoring 
 Annie's tranquillity of mind. She lay awake until 
 daybreak, torn by conflicting feelings among which 
 was a latent joy.
 
 CHAPTER XV 
 
 THE Duchess de Blanzac owned a large Norman 
 cottage at Deauville. It was a delightful abode, with 
 its flower-grown roof, and everything had been arranged 
 in order to give to its inhabitants a sensation of re- 
 pose, of freshness, and of comfort. Christiane usually 
 spent the months of July, August, and September 
 there. Petit-Port was her favourite residence. She 
 had created it and it was her very own. She felt 
 more at home there than in her own town house in 
 the Kue de Varenne, or than at the Chateau de Blanzac, 
 which she knew she would have to give up, sooner or 
 later, to her husband's heir. 
 
 Christiane was in the habit of going to Normandy, 
 in order to retire from the world, not by any means 
 in a religious sense, but in the sense of an intelligent 
 and idealistic society woman. For the time being, she 
 was then able to dispense with any fashionable style 
 of dress which was inconvenient to wear and also to 
 avoid doubtful friends and uninteresting people. She 
 lived just as she liked when there, outdoors a great 
 deal, and very much alone. 
 
 She was neither to be seen at the races, nor at the 
 Casino, but she might be met early in the morning by 
 the seashore, or out in the fields, gathering wild flowers, 
 or driving a dog-cart, escorted by her dogs. 
 
 The four spare rooms at Petit-Port were always
 
 154 AMERICAN NOBILITY 
 
 occupied. As her uncle, the Count de Creil, was there 
 with her, she was able to invite whom she liked and 
 she only chose people for whom she really cared and 
 whose friendship she had proved. 
 
 The Prince de Nolles, Guy de Nozay, and Dr. Moreau 
 were among the favoured few. Count Louis de Chal- 
 lans, her husband's heir, usually spent his holidays at 
 Deauville and Christiane treated him like a younger 
 brother. She appreciated his youth and gaiety and 
 she considered it her duty to watch over him and help 
 him to prepare for the responsible position he would 
 some day hold. 
 
 By persuading the three Americans to come to Deau- 
 ville for the season, the Duchess knew she would have 
 to sacrifice her quiet time, and this was a very real 
 sacrifice. She felt the necessity of keeping Annie a 
 little longer in France and so she did not hesitate. 
 Under the pretext of some repairs, to which she had 
 to attend, she invited the Keradieus and the two girls 
 to go with her to Normandy and the little excursion 
 was arranged. 
 
 Annie started with the firm intention of keeping to 
 her decision, but her strength of mind was put to the 
 test. The sight of the sea, which she loved dearly, 
 and the gay beauty of the Norman coast tempted her 
 at once. Christiane took her to visit the Duke of 
 Chilhac-Talbret's villa, which was to let. It was like 
 a nest, in the midst of verdure and flowers. Every- 
 thing there had been carefully thought out and 
 arranged by a nobleman who was an artist. She 
 also showed her a pretty yacht, the Sans-Souci, at 
 anchor in Trouville harbour, and this was also for 
 hire. Monsieur de Keradieu was eloquent in proving 
 to her that the season at Deauville was absolutely
 
 AMERICAN NOBILITY 155 
 
 necessary after the Paris season. He held out the 
 most tempting programme. There would be sea-bath- 
 ing, boating, fishing excursions, races, polo, tennis, 
 and the Casino. Clara was delighted at the prospect 
 of so much gaiety and expressed a great desire to 
 spend a few weeks in Normandy. 
 
 Annie was very firm though, and declared, in her 
 most decided tone, that she had had enough entertain- 
 ment and that she was anxious to continue her travels, 
 without any further delay. Madame de Blanzac fancied 
 that her suspicions had been aroused and so did not 
 insist. 
 
 Jacques was informed of all this by the Duchess, 
 so that when Annie told him of her decision, he was 
 prepared. He merely expressed his regret in a polite 
 manner, but his face took such a cold, haughty look 
 that she felt immediately the distance between them, 
 and it gave her a pang. 
 
 The following week was one of the most disagreeable 
 ones she had ever spent. In spite of Madame de 
 Keradieu's warning, she had not been able to refrain 
 from flirting a little with the Duke de Randan. The 
 young man, considering that he had been sufficiently 
 encouraged, proposed to her. She, of course, refused 
 him and Guy de Nozay, sympathising with his friend, 
 was very cool to her. The Keradieus were also greatly 
 annoyed with her and the Duchess was the only one 
 who treated her in the same way as before. Like a 
 child in disgrace, Annie accordingly took refuge with 
 her. 
 
 Catherine's words had given her a panic, but she 
 gradually recovered from the effect of them and finally 
 persuaded herself that the Marquis had never thought 
 of making love to her. It was only natural that, with
 
 156 AMERICAN NOBILITY 
 
 the good friendship that existed between them, he 
 would have liked the idea of meeting her again in 
 Normandy and she was sorry to disappoint him. 
 
 Jacques, on his side, had suffered cruelly. He was 
 greatly discouraged to find that Annie preferred going 
 away. He wondered whether it might not be better 
 to risk everything and follow her to England, or 
 whether he would wait till she came to stay with 
 the Keradieus in Touraine, in September. He rather 
 feared the effect of the two months of absence. Then, 
 too, he did not feel capable of enduring the enervating 
 uncertainty for so long a time. 
 
 Besides all this, his uncle was still trying to obtain 
 a post for him in the exploring expedition which was 
 being organised, and this might be decided any day. 
 
 He would then have to accept or refuse promptly. 
 The Duchess simply told him to wait and let things 
 settle themselves. 
 
 In dealing with the destinies of men, Providence 
 sometimes delights in complicating matters and then 
 in arranging everything again, by means of an appar- 
 ently trivial incident which leads to a decisive result. 
 This proved to be the case for Jacques and Annie. 
 
 Mrs. Villars took cold at a little fte, given by one 
 of her countrywomen, on the little island in the Bois 
 de Boulogne. The following day, she was extremely 
 feverish and had all the symptoms of a bad attack of 
 influenza. She was obliged to stay in bed for a fort- 
 night, after which her doctor would not hear of her 
 going to England and prescribed a long stay at the 
 sea. On hearing this, Annie's heart grew lighter and she 
 had a sudden feeling of relief and of great happiness. 
 
 When the Marquis called to enquire after Mrs. 
 Villars, as he did every day, Annie informed him of
 
 AMERICAN NOBILITY 157 
 
 the change in their plans. He had some difficulty in 
 concealing the joy he felt. 
 
 " You must be very much disappointed," he said, 
 rather coldly. 
 
 " No, not at all," she answered. " On the contrary, 
 I am delighted to be obliged to spend six weeks more 
 in France." 
 
 "Really?" 
 
 " Yes, really," answered Annie, with a little laugh 
 that betrayed her emotion. 
 
 " So much the better," said Jacques. His features 
 relaxed and the expression Annie liked came once 
 more into his eyes. He held out his hand and she 
 felt that they had made their peace.
 
 CHAPTER XVI 
 
 MRS. VILLARS, Annie, and Clara had been settled for 
 a month in the Villa de Chilhac-Talbret and the Ameri- 
 can flag floated, side by side with the French one, on 
 the mast of the Sans-Souci, which they had hired for 
 the season. 
 
 They had become the centre of a very gay circle, 
 composed of the Keradieus, who were their guests, the 
 Duchess de Blanzac, the Marquis d'Anguilhon, the 
 Viscount de Nozay, Count Louis de Challans, and a 
 few American friends who were staying at Trouville. 
 They gave luncheons, dinners, organised excursions of 
 all kinds and, by their frequent invitations, en- 
 deavoured to return all the hospitality they had 
 accepted in Paris. Mrs. Villars was getting gradually 
 stronger again and, during her convalescence, Madame 
 de Keradieu chaperoned the two girls. 
 
 In order to be nearer Deauville, Jacques took up 
 his abode at Roches-Noires and contented himself with 
 putting in an appearance every day at La Bluette, 
 the residence of his uncle de Froissy. He spent some 
 hours each day in Annie's company. Life at the sea- 
 side, with all the boating, driving, and yachting ex- 
 cursions, helped them to know each other better. They 
 seemed to be irresistibly attracted by each other and 
 they never failed to find themselves together. 
 
 The Marquis d'Anguilhon was more seriously in love 
 
 158
 
 AMERICAN NOBILITY 159 
 
 than he would have thought possible some little time 
 previously. In society, he had often seen Annie to 
 her disadvantage. Her naturalness and her sincerity 
 had frequently made her appear hard and stiff, whilst 
 her style of dress made her look like a married woman. 
 At Deauville, she was to be seen in a setting that 
 suited her better and he was able to appreciate her 
 both physically and morally. The sun and the out- 
 door life showed up the clearness of her complexion, 
 her limpid eyes, and all the freshness and beauty of 
 her youth. He liked to see her in her simple serge 
 or linen costumes and her sailor hat. During their 
 excursions, he had an opportunity of admiring her 
 coolness and tranquillity in the face of danger. When 
 talking to her, he found sometimes that her matter^ 
 of-factness clashed. He could see the limitations of 
 her mind and, over and over again, he realised her 
 inability to enter into the domain of speculative 
 thought and of poetry. He remembered what the 
 Duchess had told him and decided that they would 
 have to carry on their love affairs in prose. He con- 
 soled himself with the thought that they would be less 
 likely to strike false notes and to be bored. 
 
 It is more difficult for an heiress to make people 
 forget her wealth than for a poor girl to make them 
 forget her poverty. Annie had succeeded in making 
 Jacques forget, so that, at present, he thought less 
 about her money than about her good qualities, and 
 his wish to marry her was as free from any sordid 
 motive as it is humanly possible for such a wish to be. 
 
 As to Annie, her face now beamed with the reflection 
 of the divine sentiment. Love had germinated within 
 her and it was a love of the highest kind, simple, de- 
 voted, and generous. She gave herself up without any
 
 160 AMERICAN NOBILITY 
 
 resistance, scruple, or fear, to this new happiness which 
 had been granted her, and such a fulness of life de- 
 veloped within her, such an inward expansion, that 
 she often said to herself that she had never been so 
 happy. Every morning she woke with the joyful 
 thought that she should soon see the Marquis d'An- 
 guilhon and, every evening, under her closed eyelids, 
 she could see his delicately chiselled profile, his tender 
 gaze, and she had a crowd of delightful impressions. 
 When he was not there, she felt alone. It was as 
 though her mother, Clara, and her other friends 
 no longer existed, as he was responsible now for her 
 joy or sorrow. Like most American women, Annie 
 had, hitherto, had very little reverence for men. 
 She had seen her father a slave to her mother and 
 all the young men she knew had been her most humble 
 and devoted servitors. The Marquis had revealed him- 
 self as a master. He had inspired her with respect 
 and this respect had been the beginning of love. In 
 her intercourse with him, she was neither capricious 
 nor coquettish, as she was usually in her flirtations. 
 She consulted his tastes and tried to please him. If 
 she saw that he looked gloomy, she made special efforts 
 to be more pleasant and all this without seeing that 
 she no longer had any will of her own. She was 
 grateful for the most trifling attentions. The simple 
 flowers that Jacques gave her from time to time 
 afforded her much more pleasure than Frank Barnett's 
 costly bouquets. The Marquis had not yet told her in 
 words that he loved her, but he had made her under- 
 stand that he did. Several times, she had thought he 
 was just going to tell her and then he had suddenly 
 changed the subject of the conversation and she had 
 felt disappointed.
 
 AMERICAN NOBILITY 161 
 
 Annie's intercourse with the Marquis d'Anguilhon 
 seemed to be on such strictly friendly lines, that the 
 Keradieus did not guess the truth for a long time. 
 When they did discover how matters stood, they were 
 secretly delighted at their friend's good luck. One 
 fine day, Guy de Nozay suddenly became aware of the 
 same thing, and it literally made his eye-glass drop 
 from its orbit. On discovering that this American 
 girl was in love with his best friend, he felt such keen 
 satisfaction, that he might have been triumphing him- 
 self. Mrs. Villars and Clara were the only persons 
 who had no suspicion of the truth. In the first place, 
 Clara believed that the Marquis was in love with the 
 Duchess de Blanzac. Then, too, she was on another 
 false track, for she fancied that they had been invited 
 to Deauville, so that Louis de Challans might have a 
 chance of marrying Annie. She thought she had 
 guessed the secret of the Duchess's friendliness to 
 them and she congratulated herself on her own per- 
 spicacity. In order to pay the Duchess back in her 
 own coin, she was specially agreeable to the young 
 man and monopolised him without any difficulty. 
 Meanwhile she was, unconsciously, giving Jacques 
 opportunities of which he did not fail to make use. 
 
 An Irishwoman, no matter to what class she may 
 belong, is quick to recognise love, and all the more 
 so when she has been in love herself, as Bonne had. 
 From the very first, she had seen that Annie cared 
 for the Marquis and she had felt sure that her young 
 mistress would marry this Frenchman. She kept 
 thinking of the grief of Annie's two aunts and of 
 Frank Barnett and of all the unpleasant consequences 
 of this marriage. She wondered, with almost maternal 
 anguish, whether this foreigner were really in love
 
 102 AMERICAN NOBILITY 
 
 with Annie, or whether her wealth had tempted him. 
 She had watched him when he was talking to her 
 young mistress and had tried to read something from 
 the expression of his face. She had felt somewhat 
 reassured and had said to herself that, at any rate, 
 he " looked like a gentleman." As she felt sure that 
 nothing could save Annie now, she consoled herself 
 by praying for her and committing her to the care 
 of all the saints in Paradise. 
 
 Christiane felt that her task was nearly at an end 
 and she was very glad of it. Her nerves seemed over- 
 strained and her humour was beginning to feel the 
 effects of this. She had a great weight on her mind 
 all the time and anguish in the depths of her soul. 
 She attributed all this mental uneasiness to the con- 
 stant anxiety which Jacques' marriage had caused her 
 and to the irritation she had experienced in not being 
 able to enjoy her beloved Petit-Port in peace, as was 
 her custom. She longed to be alone and had a curious 
 wish to go away and hide herself somewhere. She 
 hoped that when once Jacques and Annie were en- 
 gaged, they would go away from Deauville. If the 
 engagement took place before the end of August, she 
 would then have a whole month of rest and peace. 
 She had had long talks with Annie and such was her 
 irresistible charm, when she took the trouble to be 
 charming, that, as a result of these talks, she now 
 had great influence with the young girl. She had over- 
 come many of Annie's prejudices about Europeans, and 
 had proved to her that in no other country does the 
 married woman hold as high a position and wield such 
 influence as in France. Christiane told her the his- 
 tory of many of the old families of the Faubourg St. 
 Germain and aroused her curiosity in the aristocracy.
 
 AMERICAN NOBILITY 168 
 
 She frequently spoke to her of the Marquis d'Anguilhon 
 and told Annie the flattering things he had said of 
 her. Whenever she touched on this subject, she 
 noticed that the girl was silent and that she had to 
 make an effort in order not to betray her feelings. 
 
 One afternoon, Jacques, Monsieur de Keradieu, and 
 Guy de Nozay had gone to the Havre, Madame de 
 Keradieu, Clara, and the Count de Challans on a 
 fishing excursion, and Annie had decided to stay at 
 home. Towards four o'clock, the Duchess de Blanzac 
 called to take her for a drive and she allowed herself 
 to be persuaded. When the horses were on the Trou- 
 ville road, Christiane said : 
 
 " We will call on the Countess de Froissy, as we 
 pass. I want to invite her to luncheon. You will 
 see what a delightful old lady our friend has for a 
 godmother." 
 
 Annie's face flushed slightly, but she raised no objec- 
 tion. The idea that she would soon be in the presence 
 of one of Monsieur d'Anguilhon's relatives caused her 
 joy, not unmingled with a certain dread, and she could 
 scarcely listen to the conversation of the Duchess 
 afterwards. 
 
 Madame de Froissy was in her garden, tending her 
 plants and shrubs. She received her visitors with 
 evident pleasure and very cordially. After Annie had 
 been introduced and a few commonplaces had been 
 exchanged, they all three walked slowly towards the 
 house. 
 
 " I begin to think that you and Monsieur de Froissy 
 are forgetting me. I have not seen you for nearly 
 three weeks," said Christiane. 
 
 " Yes, we are getting very old and stay-at-home, but 
 you may be very sure, my dear, that we do not forget
 
 164 AMERICAN NOBILITY 
 
 you. We hear news of you, every day, from Jacques. 
 It appears that Petit-Port is very gay this year." 
 
 " Ah, when I have girls as neighbours, and American 
 girls, it would be difficult not to be led away," an- 
 swered the Duchess, looking at Annie. " You see, 
 though, that our dissipations do not prevent my 
 noticing the rareness of your visits. I came to-day, 
 in the first place to scold you and then to ask you if 
 you will come to luncheon to-morrow. I am expecting 
 General de Bussy. He can only spend a few hours at 
 Deauville and I thought you would like to meet him." 
 
 " Thanks very much. Henri will certainly accept, 
 but I am sorry to say that I cannot. My sister-in-law 
 has just arrived and I could not leave her alone." 
 
 " The Marchioness is here ? " 
 
 " Yes, she was not to come until next week, but, as 
 my husband was in Paris on business, he brought her 
 back with him. Jacques will be surprised to find her 
 here at dinner-time to-night." 
 
 " But I hope that she will give me the pleasure of 
 coming with you to-morrow?" 
 
 " Oh, you must not reckon on her, my dear. She 
 is very tired and then, too, she is in great trouble 
 just now. You know what Jacques intends doing?" 
 
 " Yes, I only heard of it by chance. I am more 
 grieved then I can tell you, but I cannot blame 
 him." 
 
 " Alas, we cannot either. My sister-in-law and I 
 were hoping that Henri would not succeed in getting 
 the post for him, but we have just heard that Jacques' 
 offer is accepted. This expedition to the Upper Niger 
 is to be under the command of a Captain Richard, a 
 man whose past exploits and whose character inspire 
 us with every confidence. We are quite easy on that
 
 AMERICAN NOBILITY 165 
 
 score. The expedition will start from Bordeaux at 
 the end of October." 
 
 " I am surprised, though, that Monsieur de Froissy 
 should encourage this quixotic madness. It is a great 
 responsibility." 
 
 The Countess sighed. 
 
 " Ah, you see my husband has adopted modern ideas," 
 she said. " He is indignant to see the young men of 
 our aristocracy contenting themselves with inferior 
 rdles in the world. He only regrets one thing, and 
 that is that a d'Anguilhon cannot pay the expenses of 
 this African expedition. He assures us that Jacques, 
 with his fine constitution, will come back again safe 
 and sound, and that the hardships will make a man 
 of him. All that is possible, and even probable, but 
 his mother and I would prefer seeing him marry and 
 we would rather keep him here just as he is." 
 
 " How will his mother bear the separation ? " asked 
 Christiane. 
 
 " As she has borne so many other trials, with the 
 help of her religion. We shall try and get her to 
 stay with us during her son's absence. Sh here 
 she is." 
 
 Annie had been deeply touched by what she had 
 heard. The sight of the Marchioness coming forward 
 to meet them increased her agitation. 
 
 Madame d'Anguilhon kissed the Duchess affection- 
 ately and asked after her uncle and some mutual 
 friends. During this time, Annie was observing her 
 with intense curiosity. Jacques' mother was barely 
 fifty-two years of age. Her hair was still thick and 
 waved naturally. She had a high forehead and regular 
 features, of which the outline was bold and would 
 have been somewhat hard, but that the whole face
 
 166 AMERICAN NOBILITY 
 
 was softened by magnificent dark eyes, which were 
 very kind and very sad-looking. There was a sort of 
 grandeur about her whole person, an irresistible charm, 
 due to all that is best in the human soul. 
 
 The Duchess then introduced Annie, adding that she 
 was a relative of Madame de Keradieu's, that she had 
 been spending the winter in Paris, and that she was 
 now living near, at the Villa de Chilhac. 
 
 Madame d'Anguilhon at once held out her hand to 
 Annie. 
 
 " My son has often spoken to me of you and your 
 family, Miss Villars, and I am delighted to make your 
 acquaintance." 
 
 The colour came into Annie's face and she stam- 
 mered out a few unintelligible words. Madame d'An- 
 guilhon thought she was timid and endeavoured to 
 put her at her ease. She asked her about her im- 
 pressions of Europe and questioned her about her own 
 country. The conversation became quite animated 
 and, when Annie felt that the ice was broken be- 
 tween the Marchioness and herself, joy took possession 
 of her and she was intensely happy walking by the 
 side of Jacques' mother and keeping in step with her. 
 
 Whilst talking, Annie was observing her and won- 
 dering how it came about that she looked so elegant, 
 as it certainly was not owing to her dress. She real- 
 ised, too, all that Jacques' absence would mean to his 
 mother and, out of sheer pity for her, she felt tempted 
 to say to her : " He will not go, after all." 
 
 Madame d'Anguilhon was also observing Annie with 
 increasing interest. She admired her hair, glinting 
 with gold, her clear complexion, her small, brilliant 
 teeth. She was still more attracted by the simple 1 
 charm that seemed to emanate from her and, already
 
 AMERICAN NOBILITY 187 
 
 under the influence of what was going to happen, she 
 said to herself that she liked this girl better than any 
 foreigner she had yet met. 
 
 Monsieur de Froissy soon made his appearance and 
 took them all to the verandah. Tea was served there 
 and the conversation soon became general. Annie was 
 not long in feeling at ease with these kindly, courteous 
 people. The Count was most attentive to her, his wife 
 asked her to come again, and Jacques' mother told her 
 that she hoped she would have the pleasure of meeting 
 her again. The agreeable impression she had received 
 during this visit did not in the least console her for 
 the grief which she now felt about Jacques' plan of 
 going to Africa. 
 
 On leaving the Villa, Madame de Blanzac proposed 
 that they should walk a little way and, as Annie 
 agreed, she gave orders to the coachman to follow 
 them. For a little time, they were both silent. 
 Christiane was thinking over the dramatic little scene 
 she had just witnessed. She had not arranged it at 
 all and was, in fact, quite innocent. On receiving 
 General de Bussy's letter, the idea had come to her 
 mind, or rather had been put into her mind, to invite 
 Monsieur and Madame de Froissy. 
 
 " Are we then inferior beings and have we no free- 
 will ? " she asked herself. She dismissed the question 
 from her mind and looked at Annie. From the serious, 
 drawn look on the girl's face, she understood that the 
 blow had carried and that she was longing for an 
 opportunity to speak of Jacques. 
 
 " What do you think of Madame d'Anguilhon ? " 
 asked Christiane, by way of helping her. 
 
 " She is very beautiful and very interesting," replied 
 Annie, warmly.
 
 168 AMERICAN NOBILITY 
 
 " Oh, she is a grande dame, in the full sense of that 
 term. She is as good as any saint. Her son simply 
 adores her. Poor woman, what a grief for her if he 
 should really go ! " 
 
 " Has the Marquis suddenly thought of this explora- 
 tion ? " asked Annie in an unsteady voice. 
 
 "No, he has been thinking of it for about a 
 year." 
 
 Annie felt a sudden relief on hearing that the plan 
 dated so far back. 
 
 " And do you approve of it? " 
 
 " There is nothing else left for him. You see Monsieur 
 d'Anguilhon is in a cruel situation. Various events 
 and circumstances have deprived him of his patrimony. 
 The Chateau de Blonay, one of the finest old chateaux 
 in France, was sold by his father. Their house in the 
 Rue de Varenne is heavily mortgaged, so that he only 
 has a very small income. He can neither live accord- 
 ing to his rank, nor according to his tastes. I can 
 quite understand that he should prefer dragging him- 
 self right away to contemplating his own ruin. If he 
 were to stay in Europe, he would probably put an end 
 to things by shooting himself some day when he felt 
 desperate. He might easily marry for money, of 
 course, as titles are more appreciated than ever, in 
 spite of all people say. A title is a nice thing to have, 
 just like old furniture or Gobelins tapestry, and a 
 woman is more set off by a title than by dress or 
 diamonds. The Marquis could find ten heiresses as 
 easily as one. He prefers risking death, though, in the 
 heart of Africa, to marrying a girl he could not love, 
 or one whose education is inferior to his." 
 
 The Duchess suddenly stopped short in the middle 
 of the road.
 
 AMERICAN NOBILITY 169 
 
 " Will you allow me to speak to you quite frankly? " 
 she asked, turning to Annie. 
 
 She did not wait for a reply, but continued, whilst 
 walking slowly on again. 
 
 " Well, ever since I have known you, I have wished 
 that the Marquis d'Anguilhon might marry you." 
 
 The Duchess did not say that Annie might marry 
 the Marquis, as she wanted to establish Jacques' 
 superiority. 
 
 " He is in love with you, but he cannot make up 
 his mind to propose to you, because he considers that 
 you are too rich. That is absurd, because although 
 you have a large fortune, he has a name that is his- 
 torical, almost royal, and it would place you in the 
 highest rank of our aristocracy. It really would be 
 the finest marriage imaginable, a good social position, 
 money, and love. There would be all the elements of 
 happiness." 
 
 "All? No, not all, for we are not of the same 
 country, nor yet of the same religion." 
 
 " Where there is love, there is soon perfect harmony. 
 Look at the Keradieus. Frenchmen of good family, 
 who are well educated and men of principle are the 
 most delightful husbands in the world. They bring 
 into their homes wit, intelligence, a certain idealism, 
 and there is nothing monotonous about them." 
 
 " Yes, but they do not take marriage seriously 
 enough," said Annie, betraying the fear which haunted 
 her. 
 
 " You mean they are unfaithful," suggested the 
 Duchess, with a smile. " They are not as unfaithful 
 as they pretend to be. The English and Italians hide 
 their sins, but the French boast of theirs and even 
 exaggerate them, thanks to a sort of childish vanity.
 
 170 AMERICAN NOBILITY 
 
 I know that Americans are usually model husbands. 
 Many of them, though, drink or have a passion for 
 speculation and simply live for their business. Is not 
 ail that worse than unfaithfulness?" 
 
 " Nothing could be worse than unfaithfulness," 
 answered Annie, in her most unbending manner. 
 
 " How very young you are ! " said the Duchess, with 
 a touch of disdain. " To return to Monsieur d'An- 
 guilhon, I am quite sure that he would make you 
 happy. In the first place, he is very much in love 
 with you, and then adversity has mellowed his nature. 
 You would be able to help him to restore his home, 
 to become a useful man, and to do good in the world. 
 As a girl, you have had a brilliant existence, as a 
 wife you would have a still more brilliant life, and 
 in France you might have a most interesting life even. 
 I know that all this would not tempt you, if you did 
 not care for the Marquis, but you do care for him. 
 Is not that so ? " asked the Duchess in a lower tone, 
 drawing nearer to Annie. 
 
 The girl blushed violently and, completely taken 
 aback by this bold question, could not answer a word. 
 
 " I guessed your secret a long time ago," con- 
 tinued Christiane, calmly. " Will you authorise me 
 to give just a hint of encouragement to the Marquis 
 d'Anguilhou?" 
 
 " Oh, no, please do not," exclaimed Annie, in distress. 
 
 " Well, my dear child, do not let him go away. 
 That is all I have to say on the subject. You would 
 regret it bitterly and all your life long, as you would 
 be an old maid. After him, you could never like 
 another man." 
 
 The Duchess suddenly stood still again and said, 
 rather abruptly:
 
 AMERICAN NOBILITY 171 
 
 " Let us get in the carriage again now, shall we? " 
 
 They finished their drive in silence. Every now and 
 then the Duchess glanced at Annie's face and won- 
 dered what she was deciding. Just as the carriage 
 was driving up to the stone steps, in front of the Villa 
 de Chilhac, she laid her hand on Annie's, clasped it 
 gently, and said to her : 
 
 " I hope you will soon come and tell me that you 
 are engaged, so that I can congratulate you. It will 
 be soon, will it not? Au revoir," she added, nodding 
 in a friendly way and with a meaning smile. 
 
 Annie went straight to her room and, when once she 
 was inside, locked the door. 
 
 The Duchess had nailed her down without any warn- 
 ing, and she wanted to think things over. She did 
 care for the Marquis. That was very certain, and she 
 was so much in love that she was neither surprised 
 nor yet rebellious. The Marquis cared for her, though, 
 and this thought made her intensely proud and happy. 
 Her heart sank again when she remembered that he 
 considered her too rich. With his French ideas, he 
 was capable of an exaggerated delicacy and he would, 
 perhaps, decide to go to Africa rather than propose 
 to her. 
 
 " Do not let him go," Madame de Blanzac had said. 
 " You would regret it bitterly, and all your life long, 
 as you would be an old maid." 
 
 Annie had an instantaneous vision of her two 
 unmarried aunts. 
 
 " Heaven preserve me from ending my life like that ! " 
 she said, instinctively. 
 
 How was she to keep Jacques from going away, she 
 wondered. She could not very well ask him to marry 
 her. She would not have had any difficulty in making
 
 172 AMERICAN NOBILITY 
 
 an American man do anything she wanted, but it was 
 quite a different thing with him. However she decided 
 that she would see what she could do. It certainly 
 would be strange, she thought, if she were to marry 
 a descendant of that Seigneur de Blonay, whose por- 
 trait had made such an impression on her. In a novel, 
 such a thing would have appeared unlikely. It was 
 only in Europe that such things could happen. Annie 
 then thought of her cousin and a mischievous smile 
 came to her lips. Clara imagined that Monsieur d'An- 
 guilhon was in love with the Duchess and she was 
 religiously watching over the Count de Challans. 
 
 The thought of Frank Barnett then crossed the girl's 
 mind and troubled her a little. Poor Frank, what a 
 grief it would be for him ! He would, of course, think 
 that she had fallen into one of the traps laid for 
 heiresses. She drew herself up proudly. Monsieur 
 d'Anguilhon was neither a schemer nor an adventurer. 
 No man in the Faubourg St. Germain was of better 
 family. She would be able to introduce this foreign 
 husband of hers in America. How she would be en- 
 vied! Annie suddenly remembered that the Duchess 
 was a woman quite capable of giving her " little hint 
 of encouragement " to the Marquis, in spite of any 
 injunction. This idea caused her a pang of anxiety 
 at first, but later on she said to herself : " I do not 
 care what happens, provided he does not go away."
 
 CHAPTER XVII 
 
 CHRISTIANS was not inventing when she told Annie 
 that the Marquis d'Anguilhon thought her too rich. 
 For some days past, she had been urging him on to 
 propose and he felt himself that he had only to 
 speak now, in order to see his dream realised. His 
 pride, dignity, and self-respect, however, now kept 
 him silent. He had never thought it would be so 
 painful to accept wealth from a woman. His pov- 
 erty made him feel that he was in an inferior posi- 
 tion and this humiliated him profoundly. The idea 
 that, in marrying, he would have to reveal the 
 ruin of his family to outsiders wounded his self- 
 respect. His business transaction with Madame de 
 Lene now caused him a feeling of shame that em- 
 bittered his triumph. When he met Annie's eyes, full 
 of confidence and admiration, he felt ill at ease and 
 he was sorry not to be the faultless nobleman she 
 believed him to be. Then, too, Jacques belonged to 
 a noble race, a race that had loved danger and glory. 
 The heroism in his nature flamed out at times, so 
 that, even while paying court to Annie, he could not 
 help thinking of the expedition which was being 
 organised. Whenever he saw anything about Africa 
 in the paper, he experienced a painful feeling of shame 
 and regret. At such times, he was tempted to give 
 Annie up and to go and brave death, in order to 
 
 173
 
 174 AMERICAN NOBILITY 
 
 conquer something which might add to his heritage 
 of glory. The temptation was only momentary, but 
 it. influenced him enough to make him postpone speak- 
 ing to Annie. 
 
 The news of Captain Richard's arrival in Paris, and 
 an urgent letter from the Duchess which he found 
 awaiting him on his return from his uncle's, after 
 hearing there of Annie's visit, were the last touches 
 of the spur given to him by Providence, in order 
 to send him on in the path he was destined to 
 follow. 
 
 The next day, Jacques did not put in an appearance 
 at Deauville nor yet at Trouville. He lunched at his 
 uncle's and spent the afternoon with his mother. He 
 then returned to Roches-Noires to dress and dine. 
 Towards nine o'clock, he set out for the Villa de 
 Chilhac, determined to have a definite understanding 
 with Annie. 
 
 As she had not seen him all day, she was sure that 
 he would come some time during the evening. She 
 was, therefore, expecting him, with an inward agita- 
 tion which made her deaf to all that was going on 
 around her. When he appeared, her heart seemed to 
 leap towards him. She could not speak, but she looked 
 full at him, as though to let him read her thoughts. 
 On seeing her emotion, Jacques felt sure that she was 
 fully prepared to hear what he had to say. 
 
 He had never seen Annie so pretty and so girlish- 
 looking. She was wearing a white accordion-plaited 
 dress, trimmed with brownish, cream lace, and a nar- 
 row waistband of satin ribbon. Round her neck she 
 had small pearls and, in her bodice, a bunch of roses. 
 As it happened every evening, there was a little party 
 of neighbours and friends assembled in the drawing-
 
 AMERICAN NOBILITY 175 
 
 room. It was very warm and the long French win- 
 dows were wide open, so that tea and coffee could 
 be served on the verandah. The Count de Challans 
 was singing a lively song at the piano and Clara was 
 turning over the leaves for him. 
 
 After a time, the Marquis managed to get Annie 
 away without much difficulty. They had both become 
 quite skilful in manoeuvring, in order to have their 
 little conversations. 
 
 There was no sea view from the Villa itself, so that 
 it was necessary to go as far as the terrace, which 
 was separated from the park by a clump of trees and 
 a hedge of witch-elms. The way to this terrace was 
 by two winding paths. It was there that Jacques 
 meant to go to propose to Annie. 
 
 " What a happy idea Madame de Blanzac had to 
 take you to La Bluette!" he said, by way of lead- 
 ing up to his subject. " You have quite won my 
 uncle's heart. My mother and aunt think you are 
 rather like Madame de Keradieu. You must take that 
 as a compliment, you know, as they are so fond of 
 her." 
 
 " Your mother was most kind to me," said Annie. 
 " If I had known I was going to meet her, I should 
 have been quite frightened " 
 
 "Frightened? But why?" 
 
 " I had imagined that she was very proud and very 
 severe." 
 
 " You did not get that idea from what you know 
 of her son, I hope ? " 
 
 " Yes, I did. You are very severe for a young man 
 and fairly authoritative, into the bargain," answered 
 Annie, smiling. 
 
 " Because I prevented your going to the Palais-Royal
 
 176 AMERICAN NOBILITY 
 
 and to the Neuilly Fair in Paris and because I do 
 not like the petits chevaux and the fishing for sand- 
 eels here for you?" 
 
 " Oh, and many other things, too. Clara is pretty 
 independent, but she is morally afraid of you. I am 
 too/' added Annie, half joking and half seriously. 
 
 " If I have appeared authoritative, as you say, it 
 has been because of my interest in you. I did not 
 want you to be criticised or to hear unseemly things 
 in a theatre, nor could I bear the idea of your coming 
 into contact, for a single minute, with a mixed crowd. 
 You are not vexed with me, are you ? " asked Jacques, 
 with a very tender look and tone. 
 
 " Oh, no," answered Annie, promptly, " I was only 
 joking." 
 
 " I am glad of that. I am delighted, too, that my 
 mother did not frighten you and that she liked you 
 so much." 
 
 They had just arrived on the terrace, which was 
 beautifully lighted up by the moon. There was silence 
 between them for a moment. The same emotion had 
 taken possession of them both and made them mute. 
 They slackened their pace and Annie rolled the hem 
 of her handkerchief between her fingers. From time 
 to time, she glanced shyly and anxiously at her com- 
 panion. She was trying to gather courage to say what 
 she had determined to say, but the words remained in 
 her throat. After a few seconds of inward conflict, she 
 managed to overcome her nervousness. 
 
 " Is it true that you intend going to Africa with 
 an exploring expedition ? " she asked. 
 
 Jacques started slightly and a flush came into his 
 face. 
 
 "How did you know?" he asked.
 
 AMERICAN NOBILITY 177 
 
 " I heard yesterday, at your uncle's. Why did you 
 never say a word to me about it ? " 
 
 " To talk of such a thing beforehand would be like 
 boasting. I have not mentioned it to any one " 
 
 " And do you very much want to go ? " 
 
 "I did two months ago but now " 
 
 "Why not now?" 
 
 The Marquis stopped walking. His face was very 
 pale and he was evidently very much agitated. 
 
 " Miss Villars," he said, " will you promise to answer 
 very frankly a question I am going to ask you, and 
 to reply independently of your own feelings and of 
 mine?" 
 
 " Yes, I promise." 
 
 " In your opinion, could a very poor man marry a 
 very rich woman without losing his dignity?" 
 
 " Yes, if he had a position to offer her, or if he were 
 ready to work for her and, above all, if he loved her 
 sincerely," answered Annie, unhesitatingly. 
 
 Jacques scanned her face for a moment with the 
 light of the moon full upon it and then, in a voice 
 that was muffled by emotion, he said: 
 
 "Well, then, Annie, I love you very sincerely and 
 very deeply. On my honour as a gentleman, if you 
 were poor and I had a large fortune, you are the wife 
 I should choose, not merely because you are charm- 
 ing, but because you are so straightforward, and have 
 such a sweet disposition. I have nothing but an old 
 name, of which I am very proud, though, for -I value 
 it more than my life. Will you accept it, will you be 
 my wife ? " 
 
 " Will I ? Yes, with all my heart," answered Annie, 
 without any false modesty and with a simplicity that 
 was not without a certain grandeur. Jacques raised
 
 178 AMERICAN NOBILITY 
 
 the hand she held out to him to his lips. This kiss, 
 full of the warmth and electricity of love made Annie 
 thrill from head to foot. She was both disturbed and 
 intimidated by this power, the effect of which she 
 had just felt for the first time in her life. 
 
 The Marquis took her hand and placed it on his 
 arm. 
 
 " Annie," he said, in a very tender voice, " I cannot 
 find words to thank you for this gift of yourself. You 
 shall never regret it, though." 
 
 " I am sure I never shall," she replied. " What a 
 fright and what misery I endured yesterday, when 1 
 heard that you were thinking of going to Africa." 
 
 " Unfortunately I am not valiant enough to prefer 
 glory to happiness," said Jacques, with bitterness and 
 self-disdain. " I am no hero, as you see." 
 
 " So much the better. I detest heroes ; they always 
 make other people suffer. If you had gone, you would 
 have made your mother wretched." 
 
 " And what about you ? " 
 
 " I should have been wretched, too." 
 
 Jacques was deeply touched by this avowal and 
 pressed the hand that lay on his arm. 
 
 " You will never doubt my disinterestedness, will 
 you?" he asked. 
 
 "Nor you mine?" 
 
 "Yours?" 
 
 " Yes, are you not going to make a very grand lady 
 of me? People will not fail to say that I wanted a 
 title, and that I am marrying you out of ambition." 
 
 " Those who know you will never believe that." 
 
 " I hope not, but I must confess that I shall be 
 very proud to be a Marchioness d'Anguilhon." 
 
 " Do you know that our family is absolutely
 
 AMERICAN NOBILITY 179 
 
 ruined? I am very poor indeed," said Jacques, 
 flushing painfully. 
 
 "What does that matter? It is a misfortune and 
 not a fault. It does not lower you in the least." 
 
 Just as they reached the end of the terrace, a white 
 form appeared suddenly in front of them and brought 
 them to a standstill. It was Clara and she looked at 
 them in silence for a few seconds. 
 
 " Monsieur d'Anguilhon," she exclaimed, " I will never 
 forgive you, never ! " She uttered these words in a 
 loud, clear voice and then turned round and disap- 
 peared behind the hedge. The engaged couple, who 
 had been taken aback at first, both laughed heartily. 
 
 " America protesting already ! " said Jacques. 
 
 Let it protest." 
 
 " How is it that your cousin never discovered that 
 I was in love with you ? " 
 
 " She thought you were in love with the Duchess," 
 answered Annie, smiling. 
 
 " In love with the Duchess? " repeated Jacques with 
 unfeigned astonishment. " What an idea! " 
 
 " Yes, was it not? Oh, I shall have a nice time now 
 with her. She will preach." 
 
 " And you are not afraid ? " 
 
 " No, I am very brave." 
 
 " Will not your mother object to your marrying a 
 Frenchman ? " 
 
 "Mother? Oh, she would never think of trying to 
 make me go against my inclinations." 
 
 " You cannot think how the idea of proposing to 
 you embarrassed me. It is so contrary to our 
 custom." 
 
 " Well, I am very glad that you treated me as an 
 American. If you had spoken first to Mother, you
 
 180 AMERICAN NOBILITY 
 
 would have spoilt everything and I should not have 
 had the beautiful memory of this evening." 
 
 Annie stopped short and looked straight into 
 Jacques' eyes. 
 
 " But what about your family? " she asked. " Will 
 not every one be much annoyed with you for choosing 
 a foreigner and a Protestant?" 
 
 "No, my mother is very religious, but she is not 
 narrow-minded. Thanks to Madame de Keradieu, she 
 likes and appreciates the American character. In the 
 first place, she will be very grateful to you for keep- 
 ing me in Europe, and then, she will grow very fond 
 of you, I am sure. I should never have married a 
 woman who was not worthy to be her daughter. Ah, 
 she will be very much surprised, to-morrow, when I 
 ask her for the d'Anguilhon engagement ring, which 
 she still wears on her right hand." 
 
 " Is it a blue enamel ring, with initials and a small 
 crown in diamonds ? " asked Annie, impulsively. 
 
 " Yes, had you noticed it? " 
 
 " It fascinated me. I kept looking at it all the 
 time." 
 
 " Well, then, to-morrow, I shall put it on this finger," 
 said Jacques, kissing the third finger of Annie's left 
 hand. " I hope it will fit you. It will be the first 
 link in the chain that is to bind us together. I hope 
 it will be a pleasant chain, do you think it will ? " 
 
 Annie was too deeply moved to be able to speak. 
 She nodded her head silently. 
 
 Jacques took her to the edge of the terrace. 
 
 " What a beautiful evening for our engagement ! " 
 he said. " Just look " The sea lay before them, 
 stretching out towards the horizon like a sheet of 
 light. The warm, golden August moon was rising
 
 AMERICAN NOBILITY 181 
 
 slowly in the dark sky. The atmosphere was of extra- 
 ordinary transparence. There was not a breath of 
 wind stirring and the whole landscape seemed to be 
 enchanted and idealised. 
 
 " How very beautiful ! " murmured Annie, " a never- 
 to-be-forgotten scene." 
 
 " Do you know the name of the roses you are 
 wearing? " asked Jacques. 
 
 " No." 
 
 " The ' bride's roses.' You were certainly inspired 
 in choosing them for this evening." 
 
 " Well, I chose them, because I had heard you say 
 you liked them." 
 
 " I do. There used to be a whole clump of them in 
 a corner of the garden at Blonay and they were my 
 admiration as a child. I used to cool my face with 
 them, when I was warm after racing about and their 
 scent was delicious. They will now be doubly dear 
 to me. Will you give me a few of them as a keepsake? " 
 
 Annie took the bunch from her dress and, with 
 trembling fingers, divided it into two. 
 
 " There, take one half and I will keep the other." 
 
 Jacques took the little roses, clasping the hand that 
 offered them in his for a moment. 
 
 " The bride's roses," he said, kissing them before he 
 put them away in his pocket-book. 
 
 Just at this moment they heard voices. 
 
 " I think we must go in," said Annie, " or we shall 
 be missed. I shall see you again to-morrow." 
 
 " And every day always," answered Jacques. 
 
 They clasped hands again and then walked slowly 
 back to the house. When they reappeared, Madame 
 de Keradieu and Guy de Nozay looked at them with 
 a certain curiosity. Annie was careful to avoid look-
 
 182 AMERICAN NOBILITY 
 
 ing at Clara. She whispered to her mother that she 
 had a headache and asked her to excuse her to their 
 friends. She then slipped quietly away to her room. 
 
 Catherine was there when she entered and Annie 
 threw her arms round her old nurse's neck and hugged 
 and kissed her. 
 
 " Oh, I am so happy! " she exclaimed, with a beaming 
 face. 
 
 Catherine released herself and then stood back and 
 looked attentively at her young mistress. 
 
 " You do not mean that you are engaged ? " 
 
 " I do, though." 
 
 "Oh, Miss Annie, Miss Annie!" 
 
 Poor Catherine sank down on a chair, overwhelmed 
 with consternation. 
 
 " Had you guessed then ? " 
 
 " Guessed that you were in love with this French 
 Marquis? Oh, yes, long enough ago, ever since the 
 first time I saw you together. And you were so 
 changed, never two hours in the same mood, never 
 satisfied with your hair and your dress, always absent- 
 minded. All that was a sure sign. Oh, you have been 
 a worry to me ! " 
 
 " I little thought I was so disagreeable," said Annie, 
 laughing. " Ah, you will see how nice I shall be 
 again ! " 
 
 " And this evening," continued Makay, " I was in 
 your mother's room and I saw him taking you off to 
 the terrace. It made my heart stand still, for I guessed 
 what was going to happen." 
 
 " So much the better, or you might have fainted 
 with the shock now." 
 
 "How can you joke about it, Miss Annie?" said 
 Catherine, reproachfully.
 
 AMERICAN NOBILITY 183 
 
 " And how can you look so wretched when you see 
 me happy? You have often told me that I have no 
 feeling. I tell you now that I am in love and still 
 you are not satisfied. Come now, is not Monsieur 
 d'Anguilhon very handsome?" 
 
 " Yes, but what about his character and his morals? 
 Are you sure about all that ? " 
 
 " He is a gentleman, Catherine." 
 
 " Your poor aunts will be heart-broken." 
 
 " Would you like me to sacrifice my love and my 
 own happiness for their sake? Do you want me to 
 be an old maid?" 
 
 " No, no, my child " 
 
 " Well, then, do not grumble any more and put off 
 that tragic look." 
 
 " Yes, but have you really thought it over ? " began 
 Catherine again. 
 
 " No, I have not. I liked the Marquis d'Anguilhon 
 the first time I saw him. He attracted me and I fell 
 in love with him. I am quite in love with him now." 
 
 " Does Miss Clara know?" 
 
 Annie began to laugh. 
 
 " She came to the terrace and saw us arm in arm, 
 so she guessed. She will be coming soon to make a 
 scene, but I am ready for her." 
 
 " Miss Annie," said Catherine, anxiously, getting up 
 from her seat, " you will not send me back to America, 
 will you?" 
 
 " Send you back to America ? Have you gone mad ? 
 Do you suppose I could do without you? No, 
 Catherine, we will never part unless, of course, you 
 were to take a dislike to my husband." 
 
 " Oh, if he makes you happy, I shall be sure to like 
 him."
 
 184 AMERICAN NOBILITY 
 
 " You will adore him. And now you can go. I will 
 undress alone." 
 
 Annie threw her arms again round Catherine's neck. 
 
 " Now go and have a little cry/' she said. " I know 
 you, and you will not be right again until you have 
 wept a few tears." 
 
 " God bless you, my darling," murmured Catherine 
 as she went away. 
 
 " There, I have settled one," said Annie, gaily. She 
 then threw herself down on the divan and tried to 
 live again the delightful scene that had just taken 
 place. She recalled all Jacques' words, his looks, and 
 his emotion. At a certain moment, she had felt his 
 heart beat against her arm. Oh, yes, he was abso- 
 lutely sincere, she said to herself and she could never 
 doubt him. He must really be in love with her, or 
 he would never choose her for the Marchioness d'An- 
 guilhon. After spending more than an hour recalling 
 every incident of the evening and thinking over her 
 present and future happiness, Annie took the roses 
 from her dress and placed them in a valuable little 
 old box which she had bought a few days previously. 
 She then took her rings off and smiled happily as she 
 thought that the very next day Jacques would put the 
 engagement ring belonging to the Anguilhon family on 
 her finger, that beautiful, blue enamel ring which, to 
 use her own expression, had fascinated her.
 
 CHAPTER XVIII 
 
 CLARA would never have been able to sleep that 
 night, if she had not gone first to free her mind of 
 the anger and indignation she had felt on seeing her 
 cousin arm in arm with the Marquis d'Anguilhon. She 
 went to Annie's room as soon as she could escape and 
 overwhelmed her with reproaches, accusing her of 
 duplicity, hypocrisy, and everything else that was bad. 
 She was particularly exasperated herself at the idea 
 that, after coming to Europe specially to watch over 
 Annie, she should have seen nothing of what was 
 going on. Her wounded vanity made her positively 
 abominable. 
 
 Annie endured everything admirably as long as her 
 cousin only blamed her, but when she attacked the 
 Marquis and cast doubts on his sincerity, Jacques' 
 fiancee requested her to be silent on the subject. 
 
 " Once for all," she said, with great dignity, " I will 
 not listen to anything you have to say either about 
 my wealth or Monsieur d'Anguilhon's poverty. I be- 
 lieve that his affection for me is disinterested, because 
 he says that it is. If he has deceived me, so much the 
 worse for him. I am engaged to him and all that you 
 say against him hurts me." 
 
 Clara then reproached her cousin for deserting her 
 friends and her country. Annie replied that New York 
 was only a week's journey from Paris. 
 
 185
 
 186 AMERICAN NOBILITY 
 
 " A week's journey," repeated Clara, shrugging her 
 shoulders. " When once you are married to a French- 
 man, it will be a journey of years. Remember what 
 I say. You will not be able to shut up your house 
 and your chateau to go and see your family. Your 
 social position will create a thousand obligations for 
 you that will make you a prisoner 
 
 "A prisoner!" said- Annie, laughing. She then 
 assured her cousin that she would never be made a 
 prisoner by any one or anything and she promised to 
 be present at her wedding at all costs. She then tried 
 to show her the pleasant side of things, but Clara 
 would not listen. 
 
 Just at this moment, Mrs. Villars came into the 
 room and her niece, still furious, told her the news 
 bluntly without any preparation whatever. The poor 
 woman was perfectly bewildered by it. Her daughter 
 engaged to Monsieur d'Anguilhon! It took her some 
 time to really believe it, as she was convinced that 
 it was just a joke. When once she recovered from her 
 surprise, she blamed Annie for her dissimulation. It 
 was that which hurt her more than all the rest. 
 
 " How could you hide from me what was going on 
 between yourself and the Marquis ? " she asked with 
 an expression of severity on her face such as Annie 
 had never seen there before. 
 
 " But nothing has been going on, Mother," answered 
 her daughter, promptly. " He has never spoken to me 
 of love or marriage until this evening. We have 
 always talked together as friends. We have never 
 flirted at all. As to what I felt for him, it was all 
 too vague at first and then too sacred to talk about." 
 
 Mrs. Villars understood at once that Annie must 
 be very much in love with the Marquis to decide to
 
 AMERICAN NOBILITY 187 
 
 marry him like this. She made no attempt to fight 
 against this love and to make her daughter listen to 
 reason, but she let her see her grief and disappoint- 
 ment. She also declared that she would not give her 
 consent until she had made very full inquiries about 
 Monsieur d'Anguilhon. 
 
 Madame de Keradieu, hearing voices in Annie's 
 room, came to see what was going on. She stopped 
 short at the door, surprised and alarmed at the con- 
 sternation depicted on the faces of Mrs. Villars and 
 Clara. Annie advanced to meet her, threw her arms 
 round her neck, and whispered to her that she was 
 engaged to Jacques. 
 
 Madame de Keradieu uttered an exclamation of joy 
 and congratulated her with a sincerity that came 
 straight from her heart. 
 
 " You might have gone a very long way without 
 meeting a man as good as the Marquis d'Anguilhon," 
 she said. 
 
 " She had only to stay in America for that," put in 
 Clara, drily. 
 
 Well, I do not think so." 
 
 " Yes, of course, I understand. His family, his 
 title " said Clara, disdainfully, "all that is useless 
 and often interferes with real happiness." 
 
 " Well, they are things which may contribute to 
 make life agreeable," replied Madame de Keradieu, 
 calmly. " You can be quite easy in your mind," she 
 added, turning to Mrs. Villars. " Jacques is a thor- 
 ough gentleman and my husband will give you all the 
 information you will want about him and his family." 
 
 She then said all she could to reconcile Mrs. Villars 
 and Clara to the idea of this marriage, but she felt 
 that their disappointment was too recent and too keen
 
 188 AMERICAN NOBILITY 
 
 at present and that it would be better to leave time 
 and reflection to do their work. They all separated 
 for the night on fairly good terms. Mrs. Villars pro- 
 mised not to oppose her daughter's choice, provided 
 the result of her inquiries should be satisfactory, and 
 Clara gave her word to be, at any rate, polite to the 
 Marquis. Annie could not reasonably expect more 
 than this.
 
 CHAPTER XIX 
 
 JACQUES* first thought was to go and see the Duchess. 
 He took leave of Mrs. Villars, almost as soon as Annie 
 went away and, with a joyful heart, he made his way 
 to Petit-Port. 
 
 Christiane had felt sure that his fate would be de- 
 cided that day. She guessed that he would choose the 
 evening for proposing to Annie and that he would 
 come and tell her the result immediately. 
 
 Ever since the evening before, her mind had been 
 full of the most painful anxiety and she had had a 
 constant pang at her heart. She had gone for a long 
 walk of some three hours and had tried everything 
 in order to forget Jacques and Annie for a time, but 
 all in vain. After dinner she had insisted on Guy 
 de Nozay and Louis de Challans going to Mrs. Villars', 
 but, unable to rest herself, she had strolled up 
 and down the verandah with her uncle and Dr. 
 Moreau. 
 
 When the Marquis d'Anguilhon was announced, she 
 went back to the drawing-room, stopped a second in 
 the doorway to note the expression of his face, and 
 then advanced quickly towards him. 
 
 "You look triumphant," she said, as she held out 
 her hand to him. 
 
 " I feel simply a happy man," he answered. 
 
 The Duchess had the sensation of a violent blow, of 
 
 189
 
 190 AMERICAN NOBILITY 
 
 a wound that she had just received. Her eyelids 
 drooped for a second and the reflection of deep emotion 
 swept over her face. 
 
 "Ah!" she said. 
 
 Her voice had such a strange intonation that Jacques 
 looked at her in surprise. 
 
 She sat down in her large arm-chair ; the shade of a 
 lamp placed near her on a small table slightly hid 
 her face and just a few seconds sufficed for her to 
 regain her self-possession. 
 
 " And so you are engaged ? " she said, in a more 
 natural tone of voice, opening her fan. 
 
 " Very much engaged," replied Jacques. 
 
 " Did you receive my little note yesterday? " 
 
 " Yes, and as you see, I obeyed you." 
 
 " And you were quite right. With women, there is 
 a moment for which you must wait, but you must 
 never let it go by. That moment had just arrived 
 with Miss Villars. And then, too, I was rather 
 afraid that the romantic idea to go and gather a few 
 laurel leaves in Africa before marrying might tempt 
 you." 
 
 " You judge me too highly," said Jacques, colour- 
 ing slightly. " I am incapable of such a thing, 
 unfortunately." 
 
 "You had thought of it, though. Oh, I can read 
 your face very easily." 
 
 " Ah, comfortable for me, that ! " 
 
 "And how did things go off? I suppose you were 
 very eloquent?" said the Duchess. 
 
 The jesting note in this question did not escape 
 Jacques and it hurt his feelings. 
 
 " I was sincere," he replied, coldly. " As to Miss 
 Villars, she accepted me in an impulsive, generous-
 
 AMERICAN NOBILITY 191 
 
 hearted way and with such absolute trust as I shall 
 never forget." 
 
 " What a surprise it will be for your mother ! The 
 bare idea of your departure had made her pale and 
 thin. She will come to life again now." 
 
 " Only fancy, that she was delighted with Annie. 
 She asked me no end of questions about her and 
 watched me in a curious way all the time. I should 
 not be surprised if she had guessed. She has such 
 intuition." 
 
 " And now you must not loiter. The wedding ought 
 to be at the end of October." 
 
 "The end of October? Do you think so? They 
 might think that my eagerness had some interested 
 motive." 
 
 " A man's eagerness in such cases is always flatter- 
 ing. I have faith in Annie's word and in her strength 
 of character, but all the same, I shall not be easy in 
 my mind until I see you coming out of the St. Clotilde 
 Church and I really need peace and tranquillity," 
 added the Duchess, in a tone that again surprised 
 Jacques. 
 
 " Are you so anxious to get rid of me? " he asked. 
 
 " Of you, no, but of the anxiety of your marriage. 
 I do not mean to reproach you, of course, but for 
 nearly four months I have had it on my mind 
 all the time, and I really need a change of 
 thought." 
 
 " What is the matter with you this evening? " asked 
 Jacques, stung to the quick. " I have never seen you 
 like this before. Have I done anything that has vexed 
 you?" 
 
 " No, nothing of the kind. I have been for a ridicu- 
 lously long walk and am simply worn out with fatigue,
 
 192 AMERICAN NOBILITY 
 
 and the heat makes me nervous. I shall send you 
 away very soon." 
 
 " Already ? And I have so many things to talk to 
 you about." 
 
 " To-morrow I will listen to everything. We will 
 talk as long as ever you like," said Christiane, with 
 a gentler inflection in her voice. " In the meantime, 
 I congratulate you sincerely. You will not only have 
 money, but a good, straightforward and very agreeable 
 wife." 
 
 " And how ever am I to thank you for helping me? " 
 
 " By doing all the good you can." 
 
 " That I will endeavour to do." 
 
 " Good-bye, then, for this evening," said the Duchess 
 with one of her most charming smiles. 
 
 Dismissed in this way, Jacques went away feeling 
 very much annoyed and disappointed. He was by no 
 means as happy as when he had arrived. 
 
 " What a strange woman she is ! " he said to himself. 
 " One never knows in what mood one will find her. 
 Thank Heaven, Annie has not such a complex nature ! " 
 
 After he had gone away, Christiane remained for 
 some little time motionless, with a fixed look in her 
 eyes, but seeing nothing of the things around her. She 
 was surprised that she should suffer and she began to 
 try to discover the cause of this grief which had 
 suddenly made itself felt within her. 
 
 "Am I envious?" she asked herself, but her lips 
 curled scornfully at this idea. " What is it then? " she 
 asked herself again. 
 
 The sudden appearance of a phantom would not 
 have made her face turn more pale nor have given a 
 more awe-struck expression to her eyes than what she 
 saw in the depths of her heart.
 
 AMERICAN NOBILITY 193 
 
 " What madness ! " she exclaimed aloud and, taking 
 her handkerchief, she wiped the cold perspiration from 
 her forehead, murmuring to herself, as she did so : 
 
 " Impossible, impossible ! " 
 
 13
 
 CHAPTER XX 
 
 THE following day, after sending Annie her first 
 fiancee's bouquet, together with a few charming lines, 
 Jacques set out for his uncle's house. The nearer he 
 approached, the more slowly he walked. Up to the 
 present moment, he thought he had done well in not 
 saying to his mother anything about his idea of mar- 
 rying. He realised though, now, that in proposing to 
 Annie, without first obtaining his mother's approval, 
 he had done a thing that was unheard of, absolutely 
 without precedent in his family, and it was not with- 
 out a certain apprehension that he entered the house. 
 
 Madame d'Anguilhon was in a small drawing-room, 
 leading out of her own bedroom, writing letters. On 
 seeing her son, her face lighted up, as usual, with joy. 
 
 " You? " she exclaimed. " I did not expect you this 
 morning." 
 
 Jacques' heart began to beat more quickly. He 
 kissed his mother very tenderly and then, putting his 
 arm through hers, led her to her armchair and, when 
 she was once seated, put a cushion under her feet and 
 knelt down on it himself. He took her hands in his 
 and, looking up at her, with eyes full of triumph and 
 affection, he told her all. 
 
 The Marchioness was both surprised and displeased. 
 She was very much hurt that her son had not taken 
 her into his confidence and above all that he had not 
 
 194
 
 AMERICAN NOBILITY 195 
 
 consulted her. Jacques tried to excuse himself by 
 telling her that he had acted in this way merely to 
 spare her the anxiety and suspense which he himself 
 had experienced. He told her that if he had taken 
 the decisive step without asking for her approval first, 
 it was because he was sure of it. He told her all that 
 he knew about the Villars family and spoke of Annie's 
 good qualities, enumerating all the promises of happi- 
 ness that this marriage with her gave him. 
 
 As she listened to her son, the expression of Madame 
 d'Anguilhon's face gradually became more serene. The 
 idea that he would not leave her suddenly dawned on 
 her and filled her heart with joy. The tears then 
 came into her eyes. 
 
 " It would all be perfect," she said, " if only Miss 
 Villars were not a foreigner and a Protestant." 
 
 " Yes, she is a foreigner and a Protestant, not an 
 aristocrat, but a republican," replied Jacques, " and 
 yet she is not bourgeoise. She has no stupid vanity 
 and no petty likes and dislikes. She is well-bred and 
 will suit herself to her new surroundings perfectly. 
 Our race wants building up," he continued. " Annie 
 has a splendid constitution. She will have fine children, 
 such children as are born of these Franco-American 
 marriages, children that are well built, with golden 
 hair, and well-set eyes. I fancy I can see them 
 already," said Jacques with emotion. 
 
 The Marchioness thought Annie's dowry too large. 
 
 " For a poor man to accept so large a fortune," she 
 said, " he ought to be very much in love with the 
 woman and he ought to esteem her very highly." 
 
 " I do love and esteem Annie very much indeed," 
 answered Jacques. 
 
 " And then, too, remember," said his mother, " that
 
 106 AMERICAN NOBILITY 
 
 the world, indulgent as it usually is towards masculine 
 unfaithfulness, despises the man who is unfaithful to 
 the woman who has brought him money. I would 
 rather you went out to Africa and died there than 
 see you wrong this girl, for she is not only bringing 
 you a royal fortune, but sacrificing many things for 
 your sake. The Anguilhons have never kept their 
 marriage vow. You must be the exception and prove 
 yourself a faithful husband. Give me your word of 
 honour that you will never allow yourself to be led 
 away in this respect. I consent only on this condition." 
 
 " I give you my word of honour," said Jacques, in 
 a firm tone of voice. 
 
 " Then may God bless you," said the Marchioness, 
 laying her hand on her son's head. 
 
 She then took from her finger the enamel ring she 
 was wearing and gave it to him. 
 
 " Here is your engagement ring," she said, in an 
 altered voice. " Your father gave it to me thirty-two 
 years ago. May it bring happiness to Miss Villars." 
 
 The Marchioness looked at her son for a few seconds 
 in silence. 
 
 " And to think," she said at last, gently, " that there 
 are people who believe that God no longer works 
 miracles ! " 
 
 It would be difficult to translate into words the joy 
 of the Countess de Froissy on hearing of her nephew's 
 engagement. Her husband blamed Jacques severely 
 for allowing him to take steps for obtaining a post 
 for him in the expedition to Africa, when he intended 
 all the time to marry an heiress. 
 
 Jacques explained that he had wanted to keep this 
 African expedition as a consolation to fall back upon 
 in case he were refused.
 
 AMERICAN NOBILITY 197 
 
 " But," he added, smiling, " you see that the old 
 proverb is true and there will always be ' love, glory, 
 and money for a d'Anguilhon.' " 
 
 " Glory ! " repeated Monsieur de Froissy, " where 
 does that come in?" 
 
 " It will perhaps come like the rest," answered 
 Jacques. 
 
 Monsieur de Froissy shrugged his shoulders. 
 
 " Well/' he said, " I am glad about this marriage 
 for your mother's sake and I only hope you will make 
 good use of this money which is coming to you so 
 unexpectedly from America. But remember," he added, 
 " for the sake of your own honour and ours, let there 
 be no heavy gambling at your club, no freaks, and no 
 follies ! "
 
 CHAPTER XXI 
 
 MONSIEUR DE KBRADIEU satisfied Annie's mother by 
 declaring that he would answer for Jacques as for 
 himself. She knew him too well to doubt his good 
 faith in saying this. Jacques then asked Mrs. Villars 
 officially for Annie's hand and his request was granted, 
 but God alone knew with what regret. 
 
 The announcement of the Marquis d'Anguilhon's 
 approaching marriage with the wealthy American girl, 
 who had been so much talked about the previous sea- 
 son, caused general surprise. It was quite a society 
 event and was discussed in all the chateaux in France. 
 Envious people blamed him for leaping so lightly over 
 the baton de la mesalliance, as it was styled in 
 eighteenth-century language. Conservatively inclined 
 individuals did not fail to deplore, as they do at every 
 fresh Franco- American marriage, the invasion of the 
 aristocracy by foreigners. As Jacques and his mother 
 were generally liked though, there was a certain 
 amount of sincerity in the congratulations they 
 received. 
 
 On the day after her engagement, Annie wrote to 
 her two aunts to tell them of her approaching mar- 
 riage. As she felt perfectly free to do as she liked, 
 she did not attempt to beat about the bush or to 
 soften the blow for them. She found words to express 
 her deep feeling in the matter very briefly and to make 
 
 198
 
 AMERICAN NOBILITY 199 
 
 them understand that all remonstrance would be in 
 vain. She wrote straight off, without the slightest 
 hesitation or regret, only stopping, from time to time, 
 to look at the Anguilhon ring on her finger, the initials 
 and crown of which gave her the sensation of the tie 
 which now existed between Jacques and herself. She 
 enclosed his photograph in her letter, hoping that 
 the sight of this handsome nobleman might appease the 
 wrath of her aunts and justify her choice. By the 
 same post, she sent a letter to Mr. Barnett's sister, 
 which was really intended for Frank himself, and this 
 letter was not an easy one to write. Like all women, 
 though, in similar circumstances, Annie found a way 
 to ease her own conscience, although it might not serve 
 to lessen the grief that she would cause. 
 
 Jacques' first care was to free his mind of every- 
 thing relating to the African expedition. He wrote to 
 George Delorme telling him faithfully the story of his 
 engagement and the struggle he had had with himself. 
 After this, wishing as far as possible to soften the 
 bad effect of his desertion, he went to Paris to see 
 Captain Richard, who had just arrived there. The 
 sight of the young explorer's bronzed face, his mus- 
 cular body, so thin after all he had gone through, 
 and his eyes shining with the light of conviction 
 and enthusiasm, gave Jacques a thrill of envy. Feel- 
 ing keen sympathy with him, and not wanting to 
 be too severely judged, he explained very frankly his 
 position. 
 
 Captain Richard expressed his regret at losing his 
 collaboration, but congratulated him warmly and 
 added : 
 
 " Any one would have done the same, under the 
 circumstances."
 
 200 AMERICAN NOBILITY 
 
 These words, uttered without the slightest intention 
 of hurting Jacques' feelings, brought the blood to his 
 face just as a blow might have done. A d'Anguilhon 
 ought not to have acted as every one might have done, 
 he said to himself. 
 
 After this duty had been discharged, though, he felt 
 more free and gave himself up, heart and soul, to the 
 happiness which had been allotted to him. 
 
 Annie was intensely happy, and happy because she 
 herself was in love. All the chords of her heart vibrated 
 now, even those of devotion and self -sacrifice, chords 
 which no man had hitherto succeeded in touching. The 
 idea that she was going to restore to Jacques the wealth 
 of which he had been deprived filled her with joy, 
 and the various sacrifices she kept making to his will 
 or to his taste gave her exquisite pleasure. Then, too, 
 besides her own great happiness, there were a hundred 
 little details which caused her pleasure. Her French 
 friends, old and young alike, were delighted about 
 this marriage. Guy de Nozay was quietly triumphant 
 and showed her the most cordial friendship. The 
 Duchess no longer treated her as a foreigner, but as 
 an equal, and this flattered her. The affectionate wel- 
 come with which she was always greeted at La 
 Bluette made her feel proud, and she liked the 
 Marchioness d'Anguilhon better after every visit. 
 
 According to American custom, Mrs. Villars left the 
 engaged couple absolute liberty. Far from watching 
 over them, which she would have deemed offensive for 
 her daughter, she always withdrew discreetly when 
 she found them either in the library or drawing-room. 
 Jacques was, at first, somewhat disconcerted by this 
 extraordinary confidence. Annie was so simple though 
 and so reserved always, when they were alone, that
 
 AMERICAN NOBILITY 201 
 
 he never dreamed of being otherwise himself than most 
 scrupulously correct. 
 
 In the course of their conversation, Annie told him 
 of the extraordinary effect that the Versailles portrait 
 had produced on her, and Jacques was amazed to hear 
 in what a curious way she had first become interested 
 in him. 
 
 To the great consternation of her mother and cousin, 
 Annie consented to the date of the wedding being fixed 
 for the 25th of October. Mrs. Villars was quite 
 alarmed at the thought of her daughter being married 
 in a foreign country, but the Keradieus promised to 
 help her with everything and to return to Paris early 
 in October. 
 
 On the 2nd of September, the Marchioness d'An- 
 guilhon and her son and the three American women 
 left Deauville. 
 
 When Annie entered her bedroom again at the Hotel 
 de Castiglione, Catherine, who was just behind her, 
 exclaimed : 
 
 " Oh, Miss Annie, who would have thought it ! " 
 
 " Yes, indeed. Who would have thought that I 
 should come back here engaged ! " 
 
 And in an effusion of sudden joy, she threw her 
 arms round her nurse's neck and kissed her.
 
 CHAPTER XXII 
 
 Two months was rather a short time for all the 
 necessary preparations for the wedding. Legal papers 
 had to be obtained from New York, business matters 
 had to be settled, and Annie's trousseau ordered. 
 
 Every morning, after receiving her flowers from 
 Jacques, she would set out with her mother and Clara, 
 and the whole day would be spent in shopping and 
 at the dressmaker's. All this entertained Mrs. Villars 
 more than it did the two girls. 
 
 The approach of her wedding-day is always a time 
 of great excitement for the French girl. She experi- 
 ences, at this moment of her life, all kinds of fresh 
 sensations and of delightful emotions. The thought 
 that she is about to become a married woman, that 
 she will have diamonds, lace, cambric or silk linen, 
 that she will be able to wear the pretty dressing-gowns 
 and tea-gowns for which she has longed, and altogether 
 the prospect of being free at last all this causes her 
 such delight as an American girl can never know, 
 accustomed as she has always been to every luxury 
 and having already tasted much of what life has to 
 offer. 
 
 Annie prepared for her wedding as though it had 
 been that of another person. She was so busy that 
 she had not time to realise that she was alive and she 
 certainly had no time for thought. Now and again, 
 
 202
 
 AMERICAN NOBILITY 203 
 
 when it flashed upon her that she was about to become 
 Jacques' wife, she was almost frightened. The thought 
 of it was both sweet and terrible to her. She adored 
 him, but, strangely enough, she could not get used to 
 him. The innate haughtiness of his character and the 
 difference of race and language seemed to place him, 
 as it were, at a certain distance from her. He ap- 
 peared to her as a being full of secrets and mysteries. 
 The thought that he would be her husband, just as her 
 father had been the husband of her mother, disturbed 
 her mind so much that she refrained from dwelling 
 on it. 
 
 Annie went to see Madame d'Anguilhon frequently. 
 She had never, hitherto, asked the advice of any one, 
 but she was glad now to have the opinion of her 
 fiance's mother constantly. On this foreign soil, her 
 footing was not firm and she felt instinctively the 
 need of a guide. When she arrived at Madame d'An- 
 guilhon's in the Rue de Bellechasse, with her hands 
 full of flowers, the Marchioness felt that she was like 
 a vision of youth and hope, in her elegant dress, with 
 her dazzling complexion, and her hair glinting with 
 gold. The old Faubourg St. Germain dwelling de- 
 lighted Annie. A curious feeling of comfort came 
 over her and a sensation of tranquillity. It was as 
 though she had suddenly been transported hundreds 
 of leagues from Paris and from modern life. The old 
 tapestry and the antique furniture appealed to her 
 and made her feel something of the charm of the past. 
 
 As she had expected, Annie received letters full of 
 sharp reproach from her aunts and also from her 
 lawyer, who had been her father's friend and was now 
 her guardian. She read them with a little defiant 
 smile, deliberately passing over the parts which she
 
 204 ^ AMERICAN NOBILITY 
 
 saw contained insinuations against Jacques. The reply 
 from Frank Barnett's sister disturbed her mind much 
 more than the other letters. Mrs. Adair told her very 
 simply that her brother had not been surprised, as 
 he had been expecting this for some time. He sent 
 her his sincere good wishes for her future happiness. 
 This was heaping coals of fire on her head, but she 
 was too happy to feel them much. 
 
 Jacques had intended selling the tapestry and pic- 
 tures he still had, in order to pay back to Madame 
 de Lene the sum she had advanced and also the amount 
 he had undertaken to pay her. Monsieur de Froissy, 
 imagining that his nephew's financial circumstances 
 were probably not very brilliant just now, handed him 
 a wedding present of two hundred thousand francs. 
 Jacques could not help smiling to himself as he 
 thought of the old proverb that Fortune always favours 
 the happy people. Madame de Froissy had bought in 
 a great deal of the Anguilhon jewellery and she now 
 presented it all to her nephew. 
 
 Although Annie was marrying a very poor nobleman, 
 she would nevertheless have a wonderful diamond neck- 
 lace, laces fit for a queen, fans, and other valuable 
 objects which had been royal presents. She could not 
 help feeling very proud of this and it even inspired 
 Clara with a certain amount of respect. 
 
 When it came to the question of the contract, Annie 
 wanted to know the French law. She had several 
 interviews with the family lawyer of the Marchioness, 
 who for the first time in his life, and to his great 
 amazement, had to explain the French code to a girl. 
 When she had thoroughly understood, Annie an- 
 nounced that she preferred being married under the 
 proviso that she and her husband had joint possession
 
 AMERICAN NOBILITY 205 
 
 of all the money they had between them, as she con- 
 sidered that this was the only way of maintaining their 
 mutual dignity. The American lawyer pointed out to 
 her the fact that she risked being ruined in this way, 
 and her mother beseeched her not to give such power 
 to her husband. Jacques himself opposed this act of 
 generosity, but Annie was as firm as a rock. 
 
 Thanks to the young girl's promptness and activity, 
 to the help of the Keradieus, to the transatlantic cable, 
 and to a plentiful supply of money, everything was 
 ready for the day appointed. 
 
 On the evening before the wedding, Jacques was 
 walking under the arcades up and down the Rue de 
 Castiglione with Henri de Keradieu. They were dis- 
 cussing the arrangements for the following day. 
 
 " Tell me," said Jacques, suddenly breaking off, " was 
 your wife as calm as Annie?" 
 
 The Baron laughed. 
 
 " Quite as calm," he answered, " and I was just as 
 astonished as you are. We French people are absurd," 
 he continued. " We marry foreigners, but we expect 
 them to be just like French girls." 
 
 " I do not want that, but I must own that Annie's 
 coolness astounds me, and all the more so as I am 
 told that American girls are not by any means, morally 
 speaking, ingenues" 
 
 " No, it is very probable that Miss Villars knows 
 life's secret. She is too pure-minded though to talk 
 of it in all its ugliness or beauty. I expect she 
 simply wonders whether marriage will be pleasant or 
 unpleasant." 
 
 " She has attended to every detail of the wedding 
 ceremony. I verily believe she will know, to a sou, 
 how much it has cost."
 
 I'm; AMERICAN NOBILITY 
 
 i 
 
 " I am sure she would know that. Just think that 
 from the age of eighteen, she has been virtually her 
 own mistress. She has paid for her dresses and all 
 her personal expenses, so that she knows exactly how 
 much everything costs. An American woman, you 
 know, may give a million away to a friend or to some 
 charity, but she would not allow a tradesman to charge 
 her ten francs too much for anything. I do not know 
 of any woman who has such a horror of being deceived. 
 You may be quite sure of one thing though. Miss 
 Villars loves you more than anybody or anything in 
 this world and she has never loved any one but you. 
 Can you take a piece of good advice and profit by my 
 experience?" 
 
 " I fancy I can." 
 
 " Well, then, get into the way of talking English 
 with Annie. That magnificent language, which neither 
 lends itself to exaggeration nor to sentimentality, will 
 give you the key to her character. Then go and spend 
 a few months in the United States. America will 
 strengthen your nature and Europe will soften Annie's 
 and you will finally arrive at as perfect a union as 
 that which exists between Antoinette and me." 
 
 " Amen," said Jacques, speaking from the bottom of 
 his heart.
 
 CHAPTER XXIII 
 
 ON the 25th of October, at eight o'clock in the 
 morning, Catherine went into Annie's room and woke 
 her gently. 
 
 " For the last time, my dear," she said, giving her 
 her cup of coffee and laying a magnificent spray of 
 roses on the bed. 
 
 " Why for the last time? " asked Annie thoughtlessly. 
 
 "Why? Oh, Miss Annie, how can you ask that?" 
 
 A deep flush suffused the girl's face, her hand 
 trembled slightly, and she lay for a few seconds 
 without speaking and with eyelids lowered. 
 
 " Yes, it is true," she said at last, handing her cup 
 back to Catherine. " My life will be changed. In 
 spite of my wedding yesterday at the Mairie and at 
 the Consulate, I cannot realise that I am actually 
 the Marchioness d'Anguilhon." 
 
 " I realise it, though, only too well," said Catherine, 
 with a sigh. 
 
 " Oh, now do not begin to whimper, please. As you 
 have so foolishly accustomed me to this cup of coffee, 
 you shall bring me one every morning to my dressing- 
 room and, whenever you feel inclined, you can bring 
 me some flowers too," added Annie, smelling the roses 
 in delight. 
 
 " You are an angel," said Catherine, looking radiant. 
 
 Annie kissed her faithful friend affectionately and 
 then pushed her gently away. 
 
 207
 
 208 AMERICAN NOBILITY 
 
 " Now, we must not both begin to cry,'' she said, 
 " it is most silly. You are always suggesting tearful 
 ideas," she added drolly. " I must not have a red nose 
 and swollen eyes to-day. I want to do honour to Mon- 
 sieur d'Anguilhon and to America too. Just think 
 how I am going to be stared at, picked to pieces, and 
 criticised." 
 
 Just at this moment, the two doors leading into 
 Annie's room were opened simultaneously. 
 
 " It is fine weather," announced Mrs. Villars. 
 
 " It is a fine day, Annie," exclaimed Clara. 
 
 " So much the better," she answered, clapping her 
 hands. " * Happy the bride whom the sun shines on ' ! " 
 
 A few hours later, the big doors of St. Clotilde's 
 Church were opened for Annie to pass. The Church 
 was as full as though it were a special fte day. The 
 triumphal notes of a wedding march pealed forth under 
 the arches, and the bride, looking very pretty in her 
 white satin dress and tulle veil of marvellously fine 
 texture, walked up the aisle on the arm of the Am- 
 bassador of the United States. Her head was very 
 erect and her eyes were fixed on the chancel, which, 
 with its gildings, its light, and flowers looked like a 
 corner of Paradise. 
 
 On arriving in front of the high altar, Jacques bowed 
 low. Annie, with a little touch of her finger, adjusted 
 one of her sleeves which she saw was slightly turned 
 round. An American would not fail to do that if 
 she were on her way to the scaffold. 
 
 The Marchioness d'Anguilhon had asked Monseigneur 
 Mermillod, the Bishop of Geneva, to come and pro- 
 nounce his benediction at her son's wedding. The
 
 AMERICAN NOBILITY 200 
 
 Bishop, with his golden voice and his poetical tem- 
 perament, gave one of his most charming addresses. 
 After briefly referring to the early history of the 
 Anguilhons, and speaking of their brilliant deeds 
 which had won for them a prominent place in the 
 history of their country, he exhorted the Marquis to 
 prove himself worthy of his race, adding that he owed 
 constancy and affection to the woman who was about 
 to say to him as Ruth said to Naomi. " Thy God 
 shall be my God, and thy country my country." Mon- 
 seigneur Mermillod then said to the bride that she came 
 from a country in which Catholicism was making rapid 
 progress, from a country that was fertilised by the 
 sun of liberty, and that she ought to employ the forces 
 she brought from it in good works. He added that 
 every Marchioness d'Anguilhon had been a faithful 
 wife, and a perfect Christian woman, and that she 
 should endeavour to equal them all in moral grandeur 
 in order to leave behind her, as they had all done, a 
 memory that was respected and reverenced. 
 
 A French girl would probably have only heard in 
 these words a fine piece of oratory. They penetrated 
 to Annie's very soul and Jacques, who was watching 
 her furtively, was very much struck by the serious 
 expression of her face. 
 
 During the Mass, Annie was conscientiously reading 
 the marriage service in her English Protestant prayer- 
 book. And it was to be thus throughout her life. She 
 would speak a different language from that of her 
 husband, she would love in another way, and would 
 follow a parallel but different route and would never 
 be in perfect communion with him. 
 
 When Jacques felt Annie leaning on his arm, he 
 experienced a triumphant joy and the deepest emotion. 
 14
 
 210 AMERICAN NOBILITY 
 
 The curiosity of the crowd made him inwardly gnash 
 his teeth. He would have given a great deal to be 
 able to escape from it and from the customary 
 congratulations. 
 
 An endless stream of people came into the vestry, 
 as friends from the most distant chateaux were there. 
 The women, always more or less affected by the mar- 
 riage ceremony, congratulated the bride and bride- 
 groom. The men, with their hats on the ends of their 
 sticks and their eyes rather brighter than usual, paid 
 compliments and made pretty speeches, as they moved 
 about among the crowd of well-dressed women. Im- 
 pressions and criticisms were exchanged on every 
 side. 
 
 " What do you think of the new Marchioness ? " the 
 Count de Bar asked one of his friends. 
 
 " Pretty, but rather stiff," was the reply. 
 
 " Jacques will put her right. He has no equal for 
 training a horse or a woman." 
 
 " What a time he will have with sixty millions to 
 handle!" 
 
 " These American women do not deny themselves any 
 luxuries. Miss Villars is buying one of our oldest 
 names." 
 
 " Yes, but she is giving a good price for it." 
 
 " Where are they going for the honeymoon ? " 
 
 " To Cannes, to the Count de Froissy's place, the 
 Chateau de St. Michel." 
 
 " Well, Jacques will have a good time at the Chateau 
 de St. Michel, I should think," said the Count de Bar. 
 
 A little farther away, two American girls were 
 making their comments. 
 
 " Annie's dress is too simple," said one of them. 
 
 " I expect she wanted to look as though she really
 
 AMERICAN NOBILITY 211 
 
 belonged to the Faubourg St. Germain," observed the 
 other one. 
 
 " What do you think of the Marquis? " 
 
 " I never saw such a handsome Frenchman." 
 
 " How mad her aunts will be to see Annie marrying 
 a poverty-stricken nobleman, just as though she were 
 a parvenue!" 
 
 " Yes, but then she is not marrying him for his title. 
 She is over head and ears in love with him." 
 
 " I do not wonder." 
 
 " Why is there no reception, this afternoon, at the 
 hotel where Mrs. Villars is staying?" 
 
 " The Marquis did not like the idea of it." 
 
 " He looks horribly proud. I expect he will forbid 
 Annie seeing her old friends." 
 
 " Oh, she will hold her own. She is not a Villars 
 for nothing." 
 
 " It must be very exciting to marry a foreigner." 
 
 " Yes, it must be great fun." 
 
 And with these characteristic remarks, the two girls; 
 passed on into the vestry, in order to see the Marquis 
 more closely, so that they could describe him in their 
 letters. 
 
 The wedding-breakfast was given at the Hotel de 
 Castiglione and only a few intimate friends were 
 present. 
 
 The table, strewn with rare flowers, and the guests 
 in their beautiful dresses, formed a pretty picture. 
 
 Madame d'Anguilhon, now the Dowager Marchioness, 
 seemed to have grown younger, thanks to her son's 
 happiness. Mrs. Villars, with her delicate features 
 and her white hair, looked like a living Nattier. 
 
 The repast was charming. Clara was no more 
 reconciled to her cousin's marriage than she had been
 
 212 AMERICAN NOBILITY 
 
 at first, but she endeavoured to put a good face on 
 the matter. She appeared to be very gay, but those 
 who knew her were quite aware that she was entirely 
 dependent on her glass of champagne for her gaiety. 
 
 The Duchess, looking exquisite in a dress of pinky 
 mauve, sat to the right of Jacques. She talked with 
 nervous animation and her eyes had a strangely 
 bright light in them. The bride seemed to exercise 
 a sort of fascination over her, for she kept looking at 
 her. She watched her with intense curiosity and, from 
 time to time, an enigmatic smile played over her 
 lips. 
 
 As to Annie, she was really very pretty, for the 
 emotion she felt tinged her face with pink and her 
 happiness made her look unusually gentle. She 
 avoided meeting her husband's eyes, but she could feel 
 them constantly fixed upon her and this embarrassed 
 her so much that she did not understand what Guy 
 de Nozay was saying to her. 
 
 Jacques played his part with all the ease of a grand 
 seigneur. He looked frankly happy and he was in- 
 wardly enjoying the shyness and dread that he saw 
 depicted on his wife's face. 
 
 After the breakfast, Christiane and the Marquis 
 found themselves alone for a minute. 
 
 " Well, was the ceremony as terrible as you had 
 imagined ? " asked the Duchess. 
 
 "No, I was seized at once by a sort of religious 
 emotion," he answered. " It seemed to take me back 
 to the day of my first communion, I might say of our 
 first communion," added Jacques with a smile. " It 
 was most curious. I saw you again just as you were 
 that day, very slender and very pretty, with your blue 
 eyes and a sort of cloud of white all round you. L
 
 AMERICAN NOBILITY 213 
 
 saw myself, too, distinctly, a little boy with fair hair, 
 wearing a black suit and a white armlet as the symbol 
 of innocence. On finding myself kneeling before the 
 same altar on my wedding-day, with the wax taper in 
 my hand, I felt deeply moved. You see, one may no 
 longer be a Catholic, but it is good to have been one. 
 Catholicism leaves memories in our lives which can 
 never be effaced." 
 
 " And you are happy ? " 
 
 " More so than I can express." 
 
 " Then everything is right," said the Duchess. 
 
 She then asked, in an abrupt tone, as though to cut 
 short any sentimentality: 
 
 " When do you intend returning to Paris? " 
 
 " In about four months, probably. The Portuguese 
 Embassy will leave our house in December. The 
 architect will then take possession and all will be 
 ready for us, I hope, by the end of February. Are 
 you not glad to have us for neighbours?" 
 
 " Oh, very glad," replied Christiane, with an ironical 
 note in her voice that grated on Jacques' ears. " I 
 am curious to see what marriage will do for you. It 
 changes a man as much as it does a woman." 
 
 " There is one thing it will never change, and that 
 is my friendship with you. Do not imagine that you 
 are going to get rid of me. I could not do without 
 your advice and your friendship. And first of all, you 
 must let me write to you." 
 
 "Write to me?" exclaimed the Duchess. "You 
 want to write to me while you are on your wedding 
 tour?" 
 
 "Why not? I am so much in the habit of telling 
 you everything that I am sure I shall want to tell 
 you my impressions. Do you know what you ought
 
 214 AMERICAN NOBILITY 
 
 to do?" said the Marquis, as though struck with a 
 luminous idea. 
 
 "What ought I to do?" 
 
 " You do not know Rome. Well, come and join us 
 there." 
 
 " You are mad." 
 
 Anger and pain gave such an extraordinary ex- 
 pression to Christiane's words that Jacques looked at 
 her in surprise. 
 
 "Mad why?" 
 
 " Because " 
 
 Jacques bowed. 
 
 " When a woman gives me that reason, I never 
 insist," he said, smiling. 
 
 " You are wise," remarked the Duchess, drily. She 
 then continued speaking, but in a gentler tone. 
 
 " Enough of all that," she said. " Be happy. I 
 wish you a blissful honeymoon. Write to me, if you 
 want to," she added, moving away in the direction of 
 Annie's room. 
 
 The newly-married couple were to spend the month 
 of November at the Chateau de St. Michel, near Cannes, 
 and then to continue their journey. Mrs. Villars and 
 Clara were to join them in Rome. 
 
 Annie had expressed a wish to go and see Jacques' 
 flat, before leaving Paris, and Madame d'Anguilhon 
 had invited them to dinner with her afterwards. 
 
 They were then to drive away from there to the 
 station. 
 
 Towards five o'clock, the young Marchioness, after 
 silently kissing and embracing her mother and Clara, 
 went with her husband to the carriage, filled with 
 flowers, which was waiting to take them to the Rue 
 de Bellechasse.
 
 AMERICAN NOBILITY 215 
 
 From the balcony of the hotel, Catherine threw an 
 old slipper and some rice, the old slipper to preserve 
 them from all ill, according to the Irish superstition, 
 and the rice for good luck. At the very same moment, 
 the Duchess left the Hotel de Castiglione. She might 
 have been the evil fairy, whose approach renders all 
 charms powerless. 
 
 Guy de Nozay accompanied her to her carriage. 
 
 " They are off to the seventh heaven," he said. 
 
 " Let us hope they may stay there," she answered. 
 
 " They would be the first to do so. Either people 
 never get there, or they arrive and then fall out of it 
 again, with their wings broken. Our friends belong 
 to the first category." 
 
 " Did you ever have your wings broken? " 
 
 " No, for the simple reason that I have only met 
 with one woman in my life with whom I would have 
 risked trying the climb. She refused and so I decided 
 to remain on earth near her." 
 
 " You acted wisely and your friendship is very pre- 
 cious to her," said the Duchess. " Adieu," she added, 
 holding out her hand to the Viscount. " I shall see 
 you next week at Blanzac."
 
 CHAPTER XXIV 
 
 CHRISTIANB had always had a presentiment that 
 there would be an absorbing love affair in her life 
 some time. The affection she had had for the Duke 
 de Blanzac could not be called love, or rather it was 
 the love of a young girl, knowing nothing of life or 
 of her own nature. She had said to herself that, 
 sooner or later, it would be her turn to feel the ecstasy 
 and rapture which most creatures experience. She was 
 tired of being loved, worshipped, and obeyed by others. 
 She wanted to be in love herself and to sacrifice herself 
 to some one. Never had any woman had a more ideal 
 dream of love, and the dream had filled her solitude. 
 She had lived it over and over again, revelled in it 
 and, as it had kept her in the high regions of idealism, 
 it had prevented her from being carried away by any 
 sensual temptations. Love had not come to her, 
 though, like a flash of lightning, as she had expected 
 it would. It had gradually penetrated like poison 
 into her heart and flesh. Instead of a cry of triumph, 
 it had wrung from her a cry of distress. In spite of 
 the anguish she had felt when the Marquis had come 
 to tell her of his engagement, she would not admit to 
 herself that it was possible for her to be in love with 
 him. She knew him too well. He had only a physical 
 superiority, she said to herself. He was inconstant, 
 rather frivolous, his character was weak, and he was 
 
 216
 
 AMERICAN NOBILITY 217 
 
 so different, oh, so very different from the man of her 
 dream. She went over his faults and failings and her 
 clear-sightedness somewhat reassured her. Alas, true 
 love is just that which has no bandage over its eyes, 
 which sees the faults and even the vices, and goes on 
 loving all the same. 
 
 Christiane tried to make herself believe that she 
 merely regretted the pleasant intimacy which existed 
 between herself and Jacques. When she realised, 
 though, that it was impossible to delude herself, she 
 tried to cure herself of a love that humiliated her. 
 She made use of the most heroic means to this end. 
 She forced herself to see a great deal of the engaged 
 couple. She went several times shopping with them, 
 helped Jacques to choose his presents, gave Annie 
 advice about her dress, handled the material for the 
 trousseau, and told the bride-elect what she thought 
 the Marquis would like best. She was present at the 
 wedding and, in spite of the pain it gave her, made 
 herself look at the bride and bridegroom kneeling side 
 by side. She endured the torture of the wedding- 
 breakfast and, as though she found a certain delight 
 in her intense suffering, she followed Annie into her 
 room and stayed with her while she changed her dress, 
 looking at the pretty shape of her shoulders and at 
 her beautiful skin. When Jacques came into the room, 
 Christiane told him to kiss his wife and she never 
 flinched as she watched him obey her. She saw the 
 husband and wife leave, she heard their carriage 
 door shut, aiid the sound seemed to go through and 
 through her. When once Guy had left her, she lay 
 back in her carriage, her head against the cushion 
 and, closing her eyes, remained for some time motion- 
 less. Two great tears welled up and fell from under-
 
 218 AMERICAN NOBILITY 
 
 neath her closed eyelids, the first woman's tears she 
 had ever shed. She wiped them slowly, saying to 
 herself once more : " It will pass it will pass I 
 shall soon forget "
 
 PART II 
 
 219
 
 CHAPTER I 
 
 THE Chateau de St. Michel had been built by an 
 Englishman half-way up the hill which dominates the 
 Gulf of Juan. It was in the style of the abbeys so 
 frequently seen in England. The Froissys had bought 
 it, they said, so that they might take refuge there in 
 their old age. In this little corner of Paradise, there 
 was enough sun, blue sky, and beauty, not only for 
 gorgeous sunsets, but also for radiant dawns. 
 
 The newly-married couple had a house with all the 
 refinements of luxury at their disposal. Outside the 
 house, the air was saturated with the scent of flowers. 
 There were wonderful stretches of verdure, blue sky 
 over their heads, blue in the horizon, the sea before 
 them, and a landscape that was a dream. 
 
 In the Cannes harbour, they found the yacht at 
 anchor which had taken them round the coasts of 
 Normandy and Brittany. The crew, who had pleasant 
 memories of the fiances, hailed them with cheers and 
 flowers, as though they had been a royal couple. 
 
 Annie and Jacques arrived at Cannes after a spell 
 of bad weather. They had an exceptionally fine, warm 
 November, so that they were able to take long drives 
 in the neighbourhood and to make some short sea-trips 
 on the Sans-Souci. Annie kept making one discovery 
 after another and was in fresh raptures all the time. 
 She was glad to see this south of France at last, 
 
 221
 
 222 AMERICAN NOBILITY 
 
 which all her friends had visited. Seeing it, as she 
 now did, with her heart full of her own love, it looked 
 more beautiful to her than it had to any of them. 
 
 The cope of poverty, similar to those leaden copes 
 which Dante saw on the damned, had now completely 
 fallen from Jacques' shoulders, and he felt as young 
 and ardent as he had been at twenty. He had no 
 other wish now than to own Blonay once more, and 
 Bontemps held out this hope to him. 
 
 From the very first hour of their married life, the 
 Marquis realised how thoroughly foreign Annie was. 
 She was the simple and prosaic Eve of the New World, 
 as absolutely different from the complex Eve of the 
 Old World as it was possible for two creatures of the 
 same species to be. With her, he had the sensation 
 of biting some beautiful fruit, sound, but not yet ripe, 
 the slight sourness of which was nevertheless agree- 
 able. Her brief caresses, her limpid eyes, and her cool 
 hands did not send him into any ecstasies, but she 
 revealed to him the sweetness of love without either 
 art or artifice. 
 
 Annie had accepted marriage with a frank, simple 
 joy and matter-of-factness which had disconcerted 
 Jacques. Some of her speeches were so characteristic 
 and so extraordinary to a Frenchman's ears, that he 
 could not help laughing to himself at them. He was 
 only sorry that delicacy forbade his repeating them to 
 a friend. 
 
 Jacques wanted to have his wife thoroughly in hand, 
 so he took the trouble to study her carefully. His 
 dressing-room was next to hers and, through the half- 
 open door, he often heard her discussions and con- 
 versations with Catherine. He was immensely amused 
 by them and they helped him to understand her char-
 
 AMERICAN NOBILITY 223 
 
 acter. He was glad to see that his wife's maid was 
 beginning to approve of him, for it would have been 
 disagreeable to feel that Annie had any one near her 
 who was hostile to him. He had had no difficulty in 
 winning over the Irishwoman. He knew how to talk 
 to old and trusted servants and he had always had 
 some friendly word for this one. 
 
 Marriage had changed Annie visibly. Her expres- 
 sion was now gentler and less childlike. She was less 
 independent in her manner and not so stiff in her move- 
 ments. She wrote one day to her cousin : " Jacques 
 tells me that my expression has changed and I am 
 curious to hear what you will say. If it is true," she 
 added, " that happiness makes people more beautiful, 
 then I certainly must be very pretty now." 
 
 Annie was very happy in her new life, not completely 
 happy perhaps, as she found it difficult to feel quite 
 at home with her French husband. It always seemed 
 to her that he was a little distance away from her. 
 His sensitiveness and nervousness disconcerted her, and 
 when she saw him plunged in one of the reveries in 
 which he so often indulged, she looked upon him as 
 a phenomenon. She had never in her life seen a man 
 dreaming before. 
 
 In America, European men are believed to be full 
 of iniquity, and Annie often wondered whether her 
 husband had been very wicked. She longed to ques- 
 tion him on this subject, but she did not dare. She 
 was very proud to be the wife of the Marquis d'An- 
 guilhon and, in spite of her own reasoning, the title 
 seemed to make her feel greater. She liked the coronet 
 embroidered on her linen and on her toilet articles. 
 She was ashamed of her vanity at first, but she came 
 to the philosophical conclusion that it was probably
 
 224 AMERICAN NOBILITY 
 
 in human nature to like such things and that, after 
 all, she was not a goddess. 
 
 The Count and Countess de Froissy returned to 
 their home early in December, but they insisted on 
 keeping their guests a week longer with them. The 
 Count liked his new niece and delighted in making her 
 talk. Her contempt for the routine of people and 
 nations who do not go with the times, and her de- 
 liberate avowal of her intention to enjoy life as much 
 as possible, amused him immensely. 
 
 " Annie is certainly the prettiest piece of prose that 
 any one could ever read," he said, one day, when they 
 had been talking about her, but he added, mentally: 
 " It is to be hoped that that rascal, Jacques, will be 
 satisfied with the prose." 
 
 Towards the middle of December, the Marquis and 
 Marchioness d'Anguilhon left for Naples, on board the 
 Sans-Souci. taking away with them fragrant memories 
 enough for their whole future life.
 
 CHAPTER II 
 
 MRS. VILLARS and Clara spent the month of November 
 with the Keradieus in Touraine, and then left for Rome, 
 where George Ottis was to join them. 
 
 The Marquis and Marchioness d'Anguilhon, on arriv- 
 ing at Naples, had found Vesuvius covered with snow 
 and a deluge of rain. They shivered with cold every- 
 where they went, and when they were tired of waiting 
 for the sun to make its appearance, they decided to 
 go to Rome in search of a little more comfort and 
 enjoyment. Annie telegraphed to her mother to en- 
 gage rooms for them at the Hdtel de 1'Europe, where 
 she was then staying. 
 
 The newly-married couple were awaited with im- 
 patience and, on their arrival, they found their drawing- 
 room full of flowers, brilliantly lighted, and enlivened 
 by a bright fire. Jacques was touched by the trouble 
 that had been taken in order that they might have a 
 pleasant impression, and he was most cordial. 
 
 Clara, who was longing to have a chat alone with 
 her cousin, soon carried her off, under the pretext of 
 showing her to her room. With the shyness of a young 
 bride, Annie had kept her thick veil down, but Clara 
 very quickly untied it for her and took it off. 
 
 " Let me see this great change you told me of," she 
 said, looking at Annie critically. " Yes," she added, 
 " it is true that you look different." 
 is 225
 
 226 AMERICAN NOBILITY 
 
 " Do T look better or worse?" 
 
 " I do not know. Your eyes look larger and you 
 are older-looking " 
 
 "Older?" exclaimed Annie, in dismay, hurrying to 
 the glass. 
 
 " Oh, I did not mean that you have wrinkles yet," 
 said Clara, laughing, " but now look," she added, put- 
 ting her arm round her cousin and her own face quite 
 close to Annie's. 
 
 " Do I not look younger than you? " she asked. 
 
 " Yes, I must confess you do." 
 
 " You are now a wife, and a Marchioness into the 
 bargain. That is more than enough for making any 
 one look older." 
 
 " How is George? " asked Annie, by way of changing 
 the subject. 
 
 " A little overworked, the dear boy. A few months 
 of rest will set him up again and he richly deserves 
 the holiday. His position is made now. Not bad that, 
 at thirty-two years of age. Do you know, he will stand 
 comparison with your husband. He belongs to an- 
 other type, but that is all. George is like a good 
 Newfoundland and Monsieur d'Anguilhon like one of 
 those big greyhounds that allow themselves to be petted 
 and spoilt like so many Pashas. I hope he will not 
 give himself airs with George." 
 
 " Give himself airs ! Jacques ! Oh, he is too much 
 of a grand seigneur for that." 
 
 "Well, let us hope that your greyhound and my 
 Newfoundland will get on together." 
 
 " I hope they will." 
 
 " I was surprised that Monsieur d'Anguilhon was 
 willing to put up at this hotel." 
 
 " Why not? Oh, he has a very strong family feeling.
 
 AMERICAN NOBILITY 227 
 
 He always says that he cannot live long away from 
 his mother." 
 
 " An American or an Englishman would rather be 
 flayed alive than own such a thing." 
 
 Catherine now entered to help Annie to change her 
 dress. 
 
 " Well," said Clara, kissing her, " and how is the 
 new household getting on ? Have the lovers quarrelled 
 yet?" 
 
 " Quarrelled ! " exclaimed Catherine. " Ah, Miss 
 Clara, I would not wish you anything worse than as 
 beautiful a honeymoon as your cousin has had." 
 
 George Ottis was introduced to Jacques. As they 
 shook hands, the two men evidently made a good im- 
 pression on each other, and the cousins, who were 
 watching them anxioiisly, exchanged a glance of 
 satisfaction. 
 
 Annie and her husband dined with Mrs. Villars. 
 Clara could not help observing her cousin all the time. 
 Marriage certainly had changed the expression of 
 Annie's face. The tender way she looked at her hus- 
 band and her deference to him caused Clara a kind 
 of irritation. 
 
 The dinner was very gay and animated, and the 
 conversation was carried on in French and English. 
 America, Touraine, and Cannes furnished plenty of 
 topics and George was full of admiration for European 
 things. 
 
 " To think," he said, " that there are people in our 
 country who maintain that America is superior to the 
 Old World! It exasperates me to hear people talk 
 like that. They are like children insulting their 
 ancestor." 
 
 " Yes," added Mrs. Villars, " we have quite a strong
 
 228 AMERICAN NOBILITY 
 
 party who imagine that America ought to be self- 
 sufficing and who would willingly set fire to the ocean 
 steamers, in order to prevent American women from 
 spending their money in France or elsewhere." 
 
 "Well, it is simply idiotic," said Mr. Ottis em- 
 phatically, " for the women bring back ideas and 
 models which allow us to work without endless experi- 
 ments, so that, with almost the first try, we can reach 
 perfection. Our goldsmith work and our materials 
 prove this. I reckon that the five hundred millions 
 we spend in Europe every year must bring us back 
 the double and the triple." 
 
 This way of looking at things and of utilising 
 feminine vanity amused Jacques immensely and in- 
 spired him with a certain admiration. 
 
 After dinner, Clara was anxious to know her fianc&s 
 opinion. 
 
 " What do you think of this famous Marquis ? " she 
 asked him. 
 
 " I like him very well, much better than I expected 
 I should. What have you against him?" 
 
 " Nothing except having stolen Annie from us, for 
 stolen her he certainly has." 
 
 " Not without her permission, I fancy, for she seems 
 very much in love with him." 
 
 " Yes, she looks absolutely absurd." 
 
 " Absurd ? I do not think so. I should be very glad 
 to see you like that, some day." 
 
 " Heaven forbid ! " exclaimed Clara, with comical 
 fervour. " There is no danger though, I am made of 
 sterner stuff," she added. 
 
 In his travels, Jacques had hitherto always wan- 
 dered about Rome, without ever really seeing it. He 
 was there now in the best possible condition for
 
 AMERICAN NOBILITY 229 
 
 really seeing it. His mind was free from care and 
 his soul was sufficiently full of happiness to be able 
 to react against the melancholy which emanates from 
 the Eternal City. 
 
 The very day after their arrival, Annie gave her 
 husband a specimen of that " sight-seeing " which is 
 the delight of the American woman, and which she 
 considers one of her duties here below. 
 
 As far as the Marquis was concerned, such sight- 
 seeing was a continual source of amusement and irrita- 
 tion. Every day, Annie set out with her Baedeker. On 
 arriving at a museum, she would begin either at the 
 right or left wall of pictures, gaze for an instant at 
 her Guide and then look up at a painting, stand before 
 it a more or less long time, and then pass on to the 
 next one. This exercise she would repeat for hours 
 together with real pleasure and absolute conscientious- 
 ness. She was not pretending to admire, as she really 
 enjoyed the sight of the masterpieces, but they charmed 
 her eyes without making her feel any emotion what- 
 ever. She simply saw all the time, but she did not 
 feel. She would come back from these artistic pil- 
 grimages half dead from fatigue, but she was glad 
 to have employed her time so well and, more par- 
 ticularly, to have " done " so much. On the second 
 day, Jacques, who did not care about "doing" the 
 Vatican, said to his wife: 
 
 " Annie, we will each go our own way here. Two 
 people can never see in the same way and w should 
 only interfere with each other." 
 
 " Very well," she answered gaily, little thinking how 
 much this meant. Several times, on turning to look 
 at her husband, she saw him lost in contemplation 
 before some picture or statue and she said to herself,
 
 230 AMERICAN NOBILITY 
 
 with a little, superior smile: "He is seeing nothing." 
 It was true that he only saw five or six pictures and 
 one or two statues in a whole museum, but he not only 
 saw them, he felt them too, and carried them away 
 graven on his mind for ever. Certain of the master- 
 pieces brought tears to his eyes. The face of a 
 Madonna, or the figure of a goddess would haunt him 
 for days together and plunge him into delightful 
 reveries. 
 
 In Rome, the hour of the Ave Maria, the Christian 
 Mohgreb, has a mysterious charm which the dreamers, 
 the poets, and all people with a little refinement, must 
 feel. There is, at that moment, u passing of souls, as 
 it were, through the air. Mempries seem to rise from 
 the very ground and from the churches and monuments. 
 Tt seems as though the past becomes the present again, 
 and as though, for a few moments, the dead mingle 
 with the living. Women return home feeling a deli- 
 cious thrill and with their senses stirred. They are 
 singularly prepared, at such moments, for what Paul 
 Bourget calls " love crimes." 
 
 Jacques was always strongly impressed by the Ave 
 Maria hour. Whenever he happened to be outdoors at 
 that time, he suddenly became silent, his step slackened 
 and, for a few minutes, he fell under its strange 
 influence. 
 
 One evening, as he was leaving St. Peter's, the great 
 bell of the church rang out the Angelus. The sound 
 of this bell, unique in the world, brought him to a 
 standstill under the peristyle. He looked around ; the 
 Square was deserted, but the vibrations of the great 
 bell filled it with prayer. 
 
 " Ah, how beautiful it is ! " he murmured, deeply 
 affected.
 
 AMERICAN NOBILITY 231 
 
 " Superb, immense ! " said Annie. " I do not remem- 
 ber though," she continued, " how many feet the Square 
 and the colonnade measure. I must look." 
 
 These words produced on Jacques the same effect as 
 a cold shower-bath. His emotion ended in a smile. 
 He had felt the spiritual beauty of everything and 
 she only the material beauty. Without noticing the 
 disastrous effect she had produced, she proceeded to 
 open her Guide and then, by the last gleams of day- 
 light, looked up the figures which, according to her 
 way of thinking, gave the real value to the sight before 
 them. 
 
 Jacques did not endeavour to bring Annie gently 
 to share his impressions. He kept them jealously to 
 himself. It is only in very rare cases that a man 
 shows himself just as he really is. Whatever he may 
 say to the contrary, he does not care to be thoroughly 
 understood. He is delighted to think that there is 
 some hidden place in his soul, some corner of his niiud 
 to which his wife has no access. This is, for him, so 
 much liberty that he keeps. 
 
 Annie's nature and temperament made Jacques' 
 thoughts turn to the woman who was her living anti- 
 thesis, the Duchess de Blanzac. They had talked to- 
 gether so much, discussed ideas and analysed so many 
 sentiments, that now, with his mind full of new 
 thoughts, he felt that he needed to talk them over 
 with her. 
 
 " How she would understand this or that ! " he was 
 constantly saying to himself, and he would have given 
 a great deal, at such times, to have seen her feelings 
 reflected in her eyes. Sometimes in a picture gallery, 
 he would come across a portrait which resembled the 
 Duchess, or a statue which had some of her lines.
 
 232 AMERICAN NOBILITY 
 
 Such portraits or statues attracted him irresistibly, 
 and he would remain looking at them for a long time. 
 The very first week of his stay in Rome, he had written 
 her a long letter, full of his impressions and sensa- 
 tions. A current of warm affection ran through the 
 whole letter. Christiane had answered it in a gay, 
 witty, ironical way, in an intentionally common- 
 place style and, at the end, she added the following 
 postscript : 
 
 "You ask me why Rome does not attract me? It 
 does attract me very much indeed. I am always wait- 
 ing to go there until I am not alone, in order to en- 
 joy it thoroughly. There, are you satisfied with my 
 reason ? " 
 
 This postscript, so thoroughly feminine, and so 
 unconsciously perverse, disturbed Jacques' tranquillity. 
 
 " Until she is not alone," he repeated. " Is she 
 thinking of marrying again then, I wonder?" 
 
 "Why should she not?" he asked himself, but he 
 felt at the same time, that, if she did, he should lose 
 her and that it would be the end of their intimacy. 
 This idea tormented him for several days. He then 
 consoled himself with the thought that Christiane 
 would not easily resign herself to giving up the wealth 
 she had inherited from her husband. 
 
 Annie little thought that she already had a rival. 
 She had no idea of the capacity of her husband's heart 
 and she little knew what kisses his lips could give. 
 She could not conceive of more complete happiness, 
 and she kept repeating to herself all the time that he 
 was simply perfect. 
 
 The Marquis got on very well with his American 
 relatives. He thoroughly appreciated the discretion 
 and the excellent character of Mrs. Villars. He had
 
 AMERICAN NOBILITY 233 
 
 taken to call her " Aunt Mary," as Clara did, and this 
 had put their intercourse on a very friendly footing. 
 He could not help admiring the conscientiousness with 
 which she accomplished this third pilgrimage to Rome, 
 and he owned to himself that he did not know many 
 Frenchwomen of her age capable of being so sincerely 
 interested in the masterpieces of art and in historical 
 associations. 
 
 Jacques found a way, too, of getting on with Clara. 
 In reality, she was still hostile, but she was rather 
 awed by him, and did not dare indulge in her imper- 
 tinences with him. He delighted in teasing, and even 
 exasperating her, and then he would calm her by some 
 charming little speech, calling her his " beautiful 
 cousin," or he would hold her in check by a certain 
 expression that he would put on which always took 
 effect, the expression on the face of the Van Dyck 
 picture at Versailles. 
 
 Jacques liked George Ottis and even rather admired 
 him. It made him indignant to see the poor fellow 
 subjected to Clara's petty, feminine tyranny, and he 
 said to himself that he hoped Annie would never take 
 it into her head to try treating him as an American. 
 
 One evening, on returning home from her mother's, 
 his wife said to him, in a very natural way: 
 
 " Jacques, we are going to Frascati to-morrow." 
 
 This way of arranging for him gave the Marquis 
 rather a shock. 
 
 " Who are we? " he asked, raising his eyebrows. 
 
 " The Walters, Mother, Clara, George, and you 
 and I." 
 
 " Before arranging for me, my dear girl, you should 
 have asked me whether I had any other plan. It hap- 
 pens that I had decided to go to the Villa Madame.
 
 234 AMERICAN NOBILITY 
 
 It appears that when the atmosphere is clear, the sea 
 is visible from there, and as we are having very fine 
 weather, I want to go there. You are quite free to 
 go to Frascati, though, if that amuses you." 
 
 For the first time, Annie felt the bit, and it made 
 her rear. 
 
 " Right," she answered, in her most independent 
 tone, " I shall go." 
 
 As she was determined to give her husband a lesson, 
 she sat down deliberately at her writing-table and 
 opened her Baedeker to read all she could about Fras- 
 cati. She was so disturbed in her mind, though, that 
 she could not fix her attention on what she was read- 
 ing. She did not understand a word and, when she 
 attempted to write, her hand, usually so steady, trem- 
 bled horribly. She was furiously angry, but her strong 
 will came to her aid and she only raged silently for 
 a few minutes. Her compressed lips then relaxed and 
 trembled slightly, as though the tears were not far 
 away, and a sad look came over her pretty face. 
 Jacques, under the cover of reading the Figaro, was 
 observing her and he now felt very much tempted to 
 say a tender word to her, but he resisted. It was 
 his theory that a man should not spoil his wife 
 during the honeymoon and that, from the very first 
 days of their married life, he should accustom her 
 to respect his authority. He felt that it was all 
 the more necessary to act thus since Annie was 
 American. 
 
 In a very nervous state of mind, she finally got up, 
 moved about the room, changed the place of a chair 
 and of several knick-knacks, and arranged the cushions 
 differently on the sofa. Whilst doing this, she glanced 
 several times at her husband, whose proud-looking,
 
 AMERICAN NOBILITY 235 
 
 clearly-cut profile was distinctly outlined against the 
 light. 
 
 " He really is like one of those greyhounds," said 
 Annie to herself and, strangely enough, the curious 
 comparison made her see her mistake. She realised 
 that this man was neither a Frank Barnett nor a 
 George Ottis and she said to herself that she ought 
 to have remembered this. She wanted to obtain for- 
 giveness and, gradually approaching his chair, she 
 went to the back of it and put her arm gently round 
 his neck. 
 
 Jacques immediately threw his head back and Annie 
 stooped and kissed him. 
 
 " I would rather go with you to the Villa Madame," 
 she said quietly. 
 
 " I shall be delighted, Annie," he answered, and 
 then, putting his arm round her, he drew her down 
 on to his knee. 
 
 " Jacques " she said, " were you angry that I 
 had not asked you whether you wanted to go to 
 Frascati?" 
 
 "Angry? No. Just at first, I must own that I 
 thought the proceeding a trifle calm, but I ought to 
 have understood that you had merely forgotten to 
 ask me." 
 
 " Well, not exactly forgotten. I did not think I 
 had to ask your consent for anything of such little 
 importance," said Annie, with her admirable candour. 
 " In America, women constantly accept social engage- 
 ments for their husbands, without consulting them." 
 
 " They make a great mistake, and all the more so 
 as the men work hard in your country. They are 
 certainly entitled to reserve a few hours for rest, or 
 at any rate to choose their amusements."
 
 236 AMERICAN NOBILITY 
 
 "Well, they put their dress-suits on without any 
 complaint and they never refuse to accompany their 
 wives." 
 
 " I do not fancy you will bring me to that degree 
 of perfection," said Jacques, smiling. " You can be 
 quite easy in your mind, though, for I am not a tyrant. 
 You will always be perfectly free to come and go at 
 your own pleasure and to do just as you like. I have 
 absolute confidence in you. You have too much good 
 sense not to conform to our habits and customs and 
 even to our etiquette of married life. I am quite 
 sure that, before very long, you will be quite a 
 Frenchwoman." 
 
 Annie shook her head. 
 
 " Oh, as to that, you must not expect it. I am, and 
 I always shall be, American," she added, with a firm- 
 ness to which the Marquis did not object. " I will 
 remember, though, that I have a French husband." 
 
 "That is all that is necessary, my darling. I only 
 hope you may never regret it." 
 
 " Oh, you would have to be very bad for me to regret 
 it and even then Well, I should always have the 
 memory of these few perfect weeks, at any rate." 
 
 Ashamed of having said as much as that, Annie 
 disengaged herself from her husband's arm and sprang 
 to her feet. 
 
 The following day, after luncheon, Jacques and Annie 
 started for the Villa Madame. The atmosphere was 
 wonderfully clear. At the extreme limit of the vast 
 horizon, they could distinguish, not the sea itself, but 
 the reflection of the sea on the sky, a band of silvery, 
 moving light which showed them where Ostia lay. It 
 was very curious and very beautiful. Never, perhaps, 
 had the Marquis been as gay and as delightful as he
 
 AMERICAN NOBILITY 237 
 
 was that afternoon. Annie's heart was so full of hap- 
 piness and contentment that, on the way back to their 
 carriage, she exclaimed: 
 " Oh, Jacques, I am so happy ! "
 
 CHAPTER III 
 
 ON visiting the various churches, it often happened 
 that Jacques would exclaim : " Oh, if my mother could 
 only see that ! " 
 
 It occurred to Annie, one day, that it would be a 
 good idea to invite her mother-in-law. Madame d'An- 
 guilhon refused at first, but Annie insisted so cordially 
 that, in the end, she accepted. The temptation to see 
 Rome with her son was not to be resisted. Annie's 
 inspiration was a good one for, with his mother there, 
 Jacques thought less about Christiane. 
 
 He was no longer a believer, but his soul had re- 
 ceived the impress of Catholicism, an impress which 
 can never be obliterated. Catholicism is a ladder 
 which enables man to soar towards the ideal. Many 
 of those who push away the ladder, after using it, 
 would never have reached the heights on which they 
 stand without its aid. The Gothic arches of an old 
 cathedral, the sight of the altar, and the sound of the 
 bells appealed to the Marquis in a way which his wife 
 could not have understood, for she knew as little about 
 Catholicism as she did about Buddhism. The Mar- 
 chioness saw, with some alarm, the moral gulf which 
 existed between the husband and wife. She had no 
 idea of trying to convert her daughter-in-law, but, 
 hoping to bring her a little nearer to her husband, she 
 endeavoured to lead her into the regions of idealism. 
 
 238
 
 AMERICAN NOBILITY 239 
 
 When visiting the churches with her, she explained the 
 meaning of the Catholic service and symbols, told her 
 the story of the chief saints and of the miracles which 
 were the subject of the pictures and frescoes. 
 
 Annie listened with keen interest, but remained cold 
 to it all. 
 
 u All these supernatural things give a sort of fabu- 
 lousness to Catholicism," she said, one day. " It seems 
 to me like a sort of Christian mythology." 
 
 Jacques could not help smiling. He glanced at his 
 mother with a mischievous expression in his eyes. The 
 poor Marchioness was horrified. 
 
 " Do you really believe in these miracles, these 
 legends?" asked Annie, turning to her, unconscious 
 of the enormity of the question she was asking. 
 
 " My dear child, I believe Catholicism to be divine, 
 consequently nothing in it seems to me impossible." 
 
 " And then, too, you have been used to it all from 
 your childhood," continued Annie. " When one hears 
 all this, for the first time, at my age, it all seems 
 childish and, forgive me for being so frank, it seems 
 so useless." 
 
 " Useless ! " exclaimed the Marchioness. " But it 
 has inspired the masterpieces that you admire. Thanks 
 to it there has been the most sublime self-sacrifice. 
 Think of the Sisters of Charity, for instance. It 
 doubles the force of mankind, and if it only served to 
 make us forget this sad world for a time, it would 
 not be useless." 
 
 "To make us forget this world? But why should 
 we? It is not at all a bad sort of place. I am quite 
 contented with it. I assure you it is quite good enough 
 for me." 
 
 The Marchioness could not help laughing.
 
 240 AMERICAN NOBILITY 
 
 " My dear child, you are satisfied with it, because 
 you are happy," she said. " Think of the multitudes 
 of wretchedly unhappy people in it, though. Such 
 people need to look heavenwards, and all that is super- 
 natural helps them. The women who burn candles 
 for the sake of obtaining some favour, those who fetch 
 oil from the Madonna's lamp with which to anoint 
 the sick person they are tending, take back hope with 
 them. Do you not think that hope is a great comfort? " 
 
 " Yes, but I think it would be better to cultivate 
 moral strength and to teach the poor creatures to 
 bear their misery bravely." 
 
 "And how would you lessen the hatred that the 
 poor have for the great of this world ? " 
 
 " By obliging the great of this world to work for 
 the happiness of the poor and for easing their life. 
 And then, too, by showing the poor that the rich have 
 sorrows as great as theirs and diseases that are some- 
 times much worse. All that is quite true." 
 
 " Bravo, my little simplist ! " put in the Marquis. 
 
 " I believe that the burdens are adapted to the 
 shoulders that are to bear them, and that the good 
 and evil are better meted out than people generally 
 imagine. Hundred of times I have pitied people who 
 were quite content with their lot. So far, I have been 
 very happy, but I shall have my share of sorrow. I 
 quite expect that." 
 
 " What do you think of the evolution of woman 
 after that, Mother?" asked Jacques. 
 
 " I am very pleased to have a proof of it," answered 
 Madame d'Anguilhon, smiling affectionately at her 
 daughter-in-law. 
 
 The Marchioness was always somewhat disconcerted 
 by the directness of Annie's reasoning. When she
 
 AMERICAN NOBILITY 241 
 
 talked religion or sentiment with her, after a few 
 minutes she usually felt as though she had suddenly 
 come upon a smooth, impenetrable wall, and it gen- 
 erally ended in her changing the subject of the 
 conversation. 
 
 One day, Annie saw her mother-in-law's prayer-book 
 on the table and asked permission to look at the 
 numerous illustrations. Madame d'Anguilhon could 
 not very well refuse, but it was with great reluctance 
 that she saw a heretic's fingers irreverently turning 
 the pages of a book which contained the secrets of 
 her very soul. 
 
 "How funny!" exclaimed Annie, every now and then, 
 on seeing the pictures of various saints in ecstatic 
 attitudes. 
 
 The Marchioness understood the meaning of the word 
 " funny " and was horrified. St. Francis of Assisi, 
 with his poor hands pierced, was considered funny, 
 and St. Theresa, with her face lighted up by divine 
 love. St. Monica, too, holding her son's hand and 
 looking up to heaven. 
 
 Presently, Annie came to a beautifully-painted little 
 picture of Jesus in excruciating pain, with his breast 
 torn open, showing his bleeding heart. 
 
 " Oh, but it is awful to look at ! " she exclaimed. 
 
 " It is a symbol, my child," replied the Marchioness, 
 evidently embarrassed. 
 
 " It is rather coarse, though, I think. I would 
 rather not know that Jesus had a heart just like 
 ours." 
 
 Coarse, the Sacred Heart! Marie Alacoque's vision 
 coarse ! 
 
 Jacques was immensely amused and would not have 
 missed this little scene upon any account. 
 
 i9
 
 242 AMERICAN NOBILITY 
 
 To the great annoyance of Madame d'Anguilhon, 
 Annie then began to read the prayer-book. 
 
 " How curious ! " she said soon, " I thought I knew 
 French fairly well, but I do not understand half of 
 what I am reading here. I am surprised that An- 
 toinette de Keradieu should have had the courage to 
 adopt a religion that is so complex." 
 
 " But Catholicism is making great progress in your 
 country, is it not?" 
 
 " Oh, we like to try everything. There are even 
 people who are freaks enough to go in for Buddhism. 
 And then, you may be very sure, that Americans will 
 take and leave what they want of Catholicism." 
 
 Annie continued turning over the pages of the 
 prayer-book. 
 
 " All these things would spoil this world for me 
 and the next," she remarked. 
 
 Presently she began to read a few lines aloud : 
 
 " I have, at last, the joy of possessing Thee, oh, God 
 of love. Why am I not all heart. Embrace me, oh, 
 God, burn and consume my heart with Thy love 
 
 Annie stopped short. 
 
 " It has no sense ! " she said. " How dare any one 
 speak of God like that! Such words could not be 
 sincere. Who wants to have one's heart burnt and 
 consumed with love ! " 
 
 The word Confession excited her curiosity and she 
 began to read the examination of the conscience. 
 
 " Have you had any evil thoughts? " 
 
 " Were they voluntary ones ? " 
 
 "What do you mean by evil thoughts?" she asked, 
 looking up at her mother-in-law, with her limpid 
 eyes. 
 
 Jacques coughed and the Marchioness flushed
 
 AMERICAN NOBILITY 243 
 
 slightly. Just as she was about to reply, the car- 
 riage was announced. Without thinking any more of 
 the question she had just asked, Annie closed the book 
 and went quickly away to put on her hat. 
 
 When once the mother and son were alone, they 
 looked at each other and smiled. 
 
 " I would not change my little heretic for a pupil 
 from the Sacred Heart Convent," said Jacques. 
 
 " No," replied his mother, slowly. " If Annie is not 
 capable of imagining to what heights mankind can 
 mount, she does not, at least, know to what depths it 
 is possible to descend." 
 
 While they were still in Rome, Jacques received some 
 news which put the finishing touch to his happiness. 
 The Chateau of Blonay had been sold by his father, 
 twelve years previously. It was as though Providence 
 did not wish the old nest of the Anguilhon family to 
 be profaned, for the manufacturer who had bought 
 it had died without having inhabited it. He left no 
 children and his widow rented the land, but kept the 
 chateau for one of her nephews. W r hen she stayed at 
 Blonay, she took up her abode in one of the hunting- 
 boxes in the grounds. As soon as the Marquis was 
 married, Bontemps made inquiries about Madame 
 Mottet's business affairs and was informed that she 
 had lost a great deal of money. With this knowledge, 
 Bontemps went to work, and he had now succeeded 
 beyond his hopes. In spite of the increased value of 
 the land, thanks to the money that had been spent on 
 it, the present owner was willing to sell it again for 
 the price her husband had given for it, four millions, 
 provided the money were paid down at once. Bon- 
 temps telegraphed to the Marquis for permission to 
 proceed with the purchase. On reading the telegram,
 
 244 AMERICAN NOBILITY 
 
 Jacques turned pale with emotion and, unable to utter 
 a word, he handed it to Annie. 
 
 " What good luck ! " she exclaimed. " Answer your 
 lawyer at once and I will cable to New York for the 
 money immediately." 
 
 Jacques seized Annie in his arms and kissed her in 
 a transport of joy and gratitude. 
 
 " How happy we shall be at our beautiful Blonay ! " 
 he said, his eyes misty with his emotion. " You will 
 love it, I am sure." 
 
 After a three weeks' pilgrimage through the churches 
 of the Eternal City, Madame d'Anguilhon decided to 
 return to Paris and get the house ready for the young 
 couple. 
 
 Jacques and Annie accompanied her as far as 
 Florence and, on the way, they took her to Perugia 
 and Assisi. For years she had longed to see the places 
 where the various episodes of the life of St. Francis 
 had been enacted. 
 
 The little town, full of shadow and silence, impressed 
 Annie more than the splendours of Rome. 
 
 The narrow streets, some of them with steps, the 
 low-roofed old houses, and the curious little shops 
 amused her immensely. The stationary look of peo- 
 ple and things struck her all the more forcibly from 
 the fact that her brain was full of pictures in which 
 life was at its utmost degree of intensity. She 
 felt as though she had been transported to another 
 age. 
 
 " How interesting it all is ! " she kept saying. 
 
 The Marchioness told her the story of the lives of 
 St. Francis and of St. Claire. 
 
 " What a pity they could not marry, as they were 
 so fond of each other ! " said Annie.
 
 AMERICAN NOBILITY 245 
 
 "St. Francis and St. Claire marry!" exclaimed 
 Jacques. " Oh, horror ! " 
 
 " They were destined for a higher state," said the 
 Marchioness. " Our little love affairs are very petty 
 and trivial compared with the almost divine affection 
 which united them. You may be sure that the joy 
 they experienced was very much deeper than ours." 
 
 " Do you think so ? " asked Annie, with an expres- 
 sion of doubt in her tone. 
 
 " Well, my dear child, you have an instance here 
 of that force of soul which produces the marvellous, 
 and which is only to be met with in Catholicism. 
 Thanks to that alone, St. Francis and St. Claire have 
 influenced the whole world, built thousands of monas- 
 teries, and wafted a breath of charity and poetry 
 through the Middle Ages. That force has preserved 
 Assisi from oblivion and destruction far more effec- 
 tually than either glory or money could have done. 
 You see that, after five centuries, it still has power to 
 attract and touch the hearts of thousands of pilgrims." 
 
 " It really is very curious," owned Annie. " Ah, 
 there will never be any saints in America," she added, 
 in a droll way. 
 
 "Who knows?" 
 
 " Oh, no, I cannot imagine an American sacrificing 
 his wealth, preaching poverty, and talking to birds. 
 Instead of St. Francis, we may, perhaps, have men 
 who will find a way of lessening misery and of making 
 the world more comfortable." 
 
 " Well, I doubt whether they will ever do as much 
 for humanity as these two humble ones of Assisi. I 
 am sure they will never inspire anything as beautiful 
 as those two churches, one above the other, and Giotto's 
 mvstic frescoes."
 
 246 AMERICAN NOBILITY 
 
 Just as the Marchioness had said these words, her 
 son uttered a cry of admiration. They had been intro 
 duced into the cloister of the convent, and this cloister, 
 with its Gothic arches and its marvellous perspective, 
 overlooking the entire Umbrian Valley, is one of the 
 beautiful things of this world. 
 
 " Ah, the monks were great artists," said Jacques. 
 " How well they understood choosing their places of 
 retreat! What meditations they must have had here, 
 .in the silence of night under a starry heaven! " 
 
 " Look what a pretty picture ! " exclaimed Annie, 
 standing still in admiration. 
 
 In the background of the deserted cloister, an old 
 monk, in his brown robe and with his hood thrown 
 back, was walking up and down, with a tired step, 
 reading his prayers. In a cage, fastened on to one of 
 the columns, a bird was singing at the top of its voice 
 and on the wall, underneath, two beautiful gillyflower 
 plants were blossoming in chipped vases. Jacques 
 caught Annie's arm and they both stood still for a 
 moment. 
 
 " Do you know," he said, " that this little picture 
 represents more human effort than your Brooklyn 
 Bridge? It required a St. Francis for creating that 
 monk, an evolution and a revolution for emptying this 
 cloister and for bringing a bird and flowers here. It 
 has required centuries, too, for giving the right tone 
 to these stones." 
 
 Annie looked at her husband in admiration. 
 
 " That is quite true," she said, " I should never have 
 thought of all that. I must really begin to reflect," 
 she added, in a serious tone that was very droll. 
 
 Towards the end of their stay in Rome, Jacques 
 noticed a change in his wife. She seemed less gay
 
 AMERICAN NOBILITY 247 
 
 and less ready for everything. She often had fits of 
 bad temper. Catherine was the only victim, but still 
 all this indicated some moral disturbance and Jacques 
 began to wonder anxiously whether her real character 
 were now beginning to manifest itself. 
 
 At Florence, the evening before the departure of the 
 Marchioness for Paris, the young couple were alone 
 after dinner. Annie was seated near the fireplace. 
 She looked anxious about something and was moving 
 her foot about in a rather irritable way. Jacques 
 was strolling up and down the immense drawing- 
 room of the Florentine hotel. He was struck by the 
 troubled look on Annie's face and, sitting down be- 
 side her, he laid his hand on the arm of her chair and 
 said, in an affectionate, but somewhat authoritative 
 tone: 
 
 "What is the matter, toy darling?" 
 
 " The matter," said Annie, " why we cannot go to 
 America and I shall not be at Clara's wedding. 1 
 shall have to give up all sorts of beautiful plans. That 
 is what is the matter," she added, with quivering lips 
 and wet eyes. 
 
 "But why?" 
 
 "Why? Oh, Jacques, I believe I believe I am 
 going to have a baby," she said with a pitiful accent. 
 
 " Really ! " exclaimed the Marquis, springing to his 
 feet. " Is it really true? " he asked, pale and excited, 
 his whole face lighting up with joy and triumph. 
 
 " It is only too true." 
 
 " Too true ? Do you mean to say that you are not 
 delighted?" 
 
 " Frankly, no, I am not." 
 
 The expression of Jacques' face became suddenly 
 so cold that Annie hastened to add:
 
 248 AMERICAN NOBILITY 
 
 " I should like to have children, but in two or three 
 years' time, not now." 
 
 " Nature would have to allow for all your little 
 arrangements and that is rather a great deal to 
 ask," said Jacques, with a shade of severity in his 
 voice. 
 
 " I hope though," he continued more gently, " that 
 you love me enough not to regret an event, the very 
 idea of which fills me with joy." 
 
 " Oh, Jacques, that is the only thing that can make 
 up to me for all my disappointment." 
 
 The Marquis knelt down in front of his wife and 
 took her two hands in his. 
 
 " How ever could you keep this secret so long to 
 yourself?" he asked, reproachfully. 
 
 This was the first time Annie had ever seen her 
 husband on his knees before -her. 
 
 " I did not want to spoil the rest of your time here," 
 she answered, in a tremulous voice, " and so had 
 decided not to tell you till we were back in Paris." 
 
 " Not to spoil ray time here, but how could it? " 
 
 " Because it is so horrible." 
 
 "So horrible?" 
 
 Jacques could not help repeating the words, which 
 amazed him so much. 
 
 " Yes, in America we do not think women in this 
 condition at all interesting. We are rather ashamed 
 of them, and many men do not care about seeing 
 friends of the family at their house when they are in 
 this state." 
 
 "Well, thank Heaven that we, of Latin race, have 
 enough imagination to be able to see the poetical side 
 of certain realities. We think a woman in this stage 
 of maternity infinitely touching. We like the dreami-
 
 AMERICAN NOBILITY 249 
 
 ness of her expression, the slowness of her movements, 
 and the change in her figure." 
 
 " You really think me interesting like this?" 
 
 " Interesting and adorable." 
 
 Annie gave a little nervous laugh. 
 
 "This reminds me of an engraving I once saw in 
 a shop window in the Rue de Rivoli. A young woman 
 was seated with some of the little garments of the 
 layette on her lap. Standing up in front of her was 
 an officer, with a moustache rather like yours, and 
 he was holding a tiny baby's hood on his fist. I was 
 horrified to see a little scene like that reproduced for 
 the public. Clara made fun of it, and just said that 
 an American would never make himself so ridiculous." 
 
 " Well, there you have just the difference of the 
 Latin character. I know that picture and I have never 
 looked at it without feeling a certain emotion. And 
 I shall do like the officer. I shall put them on my 
 fist, these little hoods and I shall kiss them, even 
 when Clara is there." 
 
 " Oh, no, you must never do that," exclaimed Annie. 
 
 " I certainly shall, and how I shall dream about 
 this son of ours for it will be a son " 
 
 Annie, blushing, annoyed, and deeply moved at the 
 same time, put her hand on her husband's mouth. 
 
 " Oh, do please be quiet," she said. 
 
 The Marquis rose and, sitting down beside Annie, 
 put his arm round her shoulder. 
 
 " Does your mother know?" he asked. 
 
 "Before you? Oh, no, I have not said a word to 
 any one. Catherine has guessed and she is wild with 
 joy. She prays for me night and morning. She has 
 candles burnt and she laughs and cries by turns. It 
 is a regular comedy. She beseeched me not to let you
 
 250 AMERICAN NOBILITY 
 
 see how vexed I am, for she assures me that you 
 would think badly of me, but I cannot act and then, 
 too, it is a great disappointment not to go to Clara's 
 wedding." 
 
 " I will do my utmost to make it up to you in some 
 way," said Jacques. " Now," he continued, " let us go 
 and announce the good news to my mother." 
 
 He held both his hands out to his young wife and 
 when she was standing up before him, he kept her 
 there for a few seconds, gazing at her with such a 
 tender, eloquent expression in his eyes, that Annie, 
 blushing and confused, tried to release herself. 
 
 " Let us go and find your mother," she said. 
 
 The Marchioness was busy, putting the various 
 objects she needed in her travelling case. 
 
 " Here I am, my dear children," she said, gaily. 
 " How queer you both look, though," she added. 
 "Have you been having a lovers' quarrel?" 
 
 " No, we are not lovers who quarrel," answered 
 Jacques. " We have a surprise for you, though, so 
 prepare for a great joy." 
 
 " I have had so many lately, that I am beginning 
 to get used to them." 
 
 " Well, then, listen. I will whisper it to you, as 
 they would in America, for it is horribly shocking, is 
 it not, Annie?" 
 
 " Yes, certainly," she replied. 
 
 The Marquis put his arm round his mother's neck, 
 his lips to her ear and whispered a few words to her. 
 The book Madame d'Anguilhon was holding fell to 
 the ground, and her face showed the emotion she felt. 
 She pushed her son aside and, going with out- 
 stretched hands to Annie, kissed her without uttering 
 a word.
 
 AMERICAN NOBILITY 251 
 
 " Oh, my child, what happiness ! " she managed to 
 say at last. "It is really true then? I guessed as 
 much, on seeing you again, but, as I heard nothing, 
 I concluded that I was mistaken." 
 
 "You guessed?" exclaimed Annie, extremely sur- 
 prised. "How?" 
 
 "By a certain expression that gave you an in- 
 teresting look." 
 
 "There, what did I tell you just now?" exclaimed 
 Jacques, triumphantly. 
 
 " I really must know what you call an interesting 
 look," said Annie, going to the glass and examining 
 herself very carefully. 
 
 " I cannot see anything extraordinary," she con- 
 tinued. " My face looks drawn, and my eyes have 
 dark rings round them. It is not beautifying, by any 
 means," she added, with a shade of vexation in her 
 tone. 
 
 " Would you believe, mother, that your daughter- 
 in-law is sorry to think she is going to have a baby, 
 as she would have preferred going to America," said 
 Jacques, in a half -vexed, half-joking manner. 
 
 " I think that it is very natural," replied the Mar- 
 chioness. "It is rather hard for a young wife to 
 have all the cares of maternity thrust upon her all at 
 once." 
 
 " Ah, I am glad to hear you say that," cried Annie, 
 gratefully. 
 
 " Yes, I can understand that you must have some 
 difficulty in resigning yourself to all the sacrifices that 
 your state demands. In a few weeks' time, though, a 
 feeling so strong and so sweet will come into your 
 heart that you will not regret anything more. I ought 
 to know," added the Marchioness, with a tremulous
 
 2H2 AMERICAN NOBILITY 
 
 smile, looking at her son with an expression of infinite 
 tenderness in her eyes. " You did well to tell me the 
 good news at once," she continued, " I shall hurry up 
 the workmen, so that your house will be ready as soon 
 as possible." 
 
 " If Annie feels tired, we can go back to Paris at 
 once, and stay at the H6tel Castiglione." 
 
 "Tired!" exclaimed his wife. "I never felt better 
 in my life. I want to do everything we had planned 
 to do and I must see Venice, Milan, and Turin." 
 
 " Quite right, my child. Do everything your health 
 allows you, but be prudent and do not overtire your- 
 self. Your mother will be with you and she will look 
 after you. I am very glad she is coming." 
 
 When once they were back in their own rooms, 
 Annie said to her husband, in a convinced tone: 
 
 " Jacques, your mother is much better, much more 
 indulgent than you are." 
 
 " I am quite of your opinion, darling," replied the 
 Marquis. 
 
 Mrs. Villars, Clara, and George Ottis, who had gone 
 to Naples, joined Annie and Jacques at Venice. Mrs. 
 Villars was by no means delighted at the news her 
 daughter had for her. She had been counting on 
 Jacques' visit to America for allaying the distrust 
 of her sisters-in-law and of other members of their 
 family. His visit was now, of course, indefinitely post- 
 poned and this was vexing. As to Clara, she did not 
 spare her cousin. 
 
 " I said it would be like this," she kept repeating 
 and she did not try at all to make Annie feel her 
 disappointment less keenly.
 
 CHAPTER IV 
 
 EVER since her return from Italy, Madame d'An- 
 guilhon had been busy getting her children's home 
 ready for them. Whilst the repairs were being done 
 to the house itself, she had organised the household. 
 The servants she engaged were from Blonay. They 
 were sons and daughters of old servants of the 
 family, and everything was now in excellent working 
 order. 
 
 On arriving, Jacques and Annie found the house 
 warm and comfortable. There were flowers and 
 plants everywhere, the servants at their respective 
 posts, and all traces of the long absence of the An- 
 guilhon family had disappeared. In spite of the early 
 hour, the Marchioness was there to receive and welcome 
 them. 
 
 Directly after breakfast, Annie wanted to see her 
 new abode. 
 
 " It is so amusing," she said, " to come into a home 
 like this without ever having seen it." 
 
 The house dated from the end of the seventeenth 
 century. It was built between a large courtyard and 
 a garden that extended to the Rue de Babylone. Its 
 cold, gloomy look struck one more than the beauty 
 of its architecture and its proportions. On the 
 ground-floor, it had a beautiful suite of drawing- 
 rooms, with dining-rooms, a billiard-room, and a 
 
 253
 
 254 AMERICAN NOBILITY 
 
 library. On the first floor, which reached by a fine 
 staircase, were the ball-room and the private dwelling- 
 rooms. 
 
 The interior of the old house seemed terribly severe 
 in style to Annie's American eyes. The drawing-rooms 
 had very high ceilings, the walls were hung with old 
 brocade, and the furniture was very sober-looking. 
 There was not a single knick-knack or gewgaw to 
 spoil the royal simplicity of everything, and the ab- 
 sence of such things seemed to freeze Annie. She felt 
 that this setting was too heavy and too big for her. 
 She kept repeating: 
 
 " It is very beautiful, it is all very beautiful ! " but 
 there was no enthusiasm in her voice, and her face 
 grew longer and longer. The last drawing-room, how- 
 ever, led into a conservatory, and the large windows 
 opened on to one of the prettiest corners of the garden. 
 Annie was delighted with this room. It was light and 
 cheerful-looking, with panels hung with embroidered 
 silk. There was a more homelike feeling about it and 
 it seemed as though she could breathe more freely 
 here. There were roses, too, in this room from the 
 Duchess de Blanzac and flowers from the Keradieus, 
 the Prince de Nolles, the Viscount de Nozay, and the 
 Count de Challans. These proofs of friendship served 
 to efface her first impressions. Her husband's rooms, 
 which she visited next, seemed magnificent, but too 
 severe. When she came to her own suite of rooms, 
 though, she forgot all the rest of the house. It was 
 all arranged in the purest Louis XV. style. The bro- 
 caded silk hangings, the bedstead painted white and 
 decorated with Cupids and tufts of feathers, the furni- 
 ture with curved outlines, the duchess arm-chairs, and 
 little sofas and the screens, all constituted an ensemble
 
 AMERICAN NOBILITY 255 
 
 of the most perfect good taste, which simply charmed 
 Annie. 
 
 Suddenly she coloured and looked at her mother-in- 
 law in an embarrassed way. 
 
 " These were your rooms, though," she said, " you 
 ought to stay here." 
 
 " My dear child," said the Marchioness, smiling, 
 " when I was obliged to leave this house, six years 
 ago, it was a great grief to me. It seemed as though 
 I could never breathe freely or even live in my flat in 
 the Rue de Bellechasse. In a very short time, though, 
 I had grown accustomed to it and I now understand 
 the words of Horace : ' The smaller the house, the 
 greater the peace.' This peace has now become pre- 
 cious to me. It leaves me time for charitable work 
 and for reading and thought. If I were rich again, 
 I should not change my way of living. I must confess 
 that I should not like a daughter-in-law whom I could 
 not have loved to have these rooms, but it is a real 
 pleasure to me to see you in them." 
 
 " Oh, how good you are," exclaimed Annie, deeply 
 touched. " I want to ask you something," she added, 
 after a slight hesitation. 
 
 "What is it?" 
 
 " I know nothing of your ways and customs here, 
 and absolutely nothing about French housekeeping. I 
 am afraid of making blunders and I do not want 
 Jacques to think me more stupid than I am. Would 
 you help me a little and show me how to go about 
 it all?" 
 
 " Very willingly." 
 
 Annie's face brightened at once. 
 
 " Well, then, I shall consult you whenever I am in 
 a fix. Are you quite sure it will not bore you ? "
 
 256 AMERICAN NOIULITY 
 
 " Quite sure. Make use of rae as you would of an 
 old friend. And now, my child, I will leave you to 
 dress. I am going back home, but I will come to 
 luncheon and introduce your servants to you. I have 
 chosen them very carefully and they know their work, 
 so that everything will go along like clockwork." 
 
 Annie kissed her mother-in-law without waiting to 
 be kissed by her. It was the first time she had done 
 this. 
 
 " I am so glad to have you," she said, prettily. 
 
 When Jacques was alone in his father's rooms, which 
 from henceforth were to be his, the emotion he felt 
 made him realise keenly the deep meaning of life. He 
 sank down on an arm-chair and, for some time, simply 
 looked around. He then rose and went and handled 
 the tapestry, the bronze ornaments, the weapons, and 
 all the other objects which he had so nearly lost for 
 ever. 
 
 Presently, his mother appeared in the doorway. He 
 went towards her and, taking her hands in his, kissed 
 them. 
 
 " How you must have suffered in reviving old 
 memories like this," he said. " I ought not to have 
 allowed you to get things ready for us." 
 
 " You would have deprived me of a great joy. At 
 present, I am above and beyond certain regrets." 
 
 " What a strange thing life is," said Jacques. " We 
 were obliged to leave this house and now we are 
 brought back again to it. What is the use of all 
 these vicissitudes?" 
 
 " They are, perhaps, for helping us in our evolution, 
 as Annie would say. The six years which have just 
 gone by have not been lost on you. You have gained 
 experience, and I hope you have acquired wisdom, too."
 
 AMERICAN NOBILITY 257 
 
 " Yes, I have." 
 
 " Well, then, do not seek other reasons. May God 
 guide you now and preserve you from yourself." 
 
 " Oh, I ain so happy that I should be capable of 
 promising you to sin no more." 
 
 " I do not ask as much as that," said the Mar- 
 chioness, smiling. " Remember, though, that happi- 
 ness lays as many obligations on us as noblesse 
 does." 
 
 " I will remember," answered Jacques, gravely.
 
 CHAPTER V 
 
 " I SHALL forget," Christiane had said, but she 
 could Dot forget. When once she was back at Blanzac, 
 she used all the means which her large fortune put 
 at her disposal for diverting her mind. She managed 
 to appear gay and careless all day long, but when she 
 was alone again Jacques took possession of her once 
 more, body and soul. Their conversations came back 
 to her mind with extraordinary vividness. She re- 
 called certain intonations of his voice and the silences 
 that had often fallen between them. She could feel 
 again, in the most curious way, the impression of his 
 kisses on her hands. She felt the soft, full lips, the 
 silky moustache, and a thrill passed through her. . . . 
 He had been so very nearly in love with her. She 
 wondered whether he would have given up the idea of 
 Annie's wealth for her sake, and whether she would 
 have given up her husband's wealth for him. Yes, 
 both of them would have been capable of such folly 
 and both of them would probably have regretted it 
 afterwards. This conviction consoled her more than 
 anything else. The Duchess's vivid imagination became 
 an instrument of torture to her. She saw, only too 
 distinctly, the newly-married couple together, she saw 
 them caressing each other, confiding in each other. 
 She saw them walking slowly, arm-in-arm, in the 
 beautiful park of the Chateau de St. Michel, which 
 
 258
 
 AMERICAN NOBILITY 259 
 
 she knew so well. Maddened by these visions, she felt 
 tempted, at times, to rush away to Cannes and, from 
 some hiding-place, have a glimpse of the husband and 
 wife, in order to learn what was their state of mind. 
 
 Christiane returned to Paris earlier than usual. 
 She wanted to be near Dr. Moreau, as it seemed to 
 her that he alone might be able to help her to chase 
 from her heart this ridiculous and painful love. 
 
 During his stay at Petit-Port, the doctor had wit- 
 nessed the Duchess's intimacy with Jacques d'An- 
 guilhon. He had guessed that she was in great 
 danger and would have been glad to convey her away 
 to the other end of the world. When he saw her 
 now, he knew that his fears had been realised. 
 
 " She is lost," he said to himself. " Love at thirty 
 is incurable." 
 
 Like all fresh remedies, the change of scene did 
 Christiane good at first. But when the time drew 
 near for Jacques' return, she became more and more 
 agitated. The Anguilhons' house was next hers and 
 for years she had passed it like any other house, but, 
 at present, the gateway, the courtyard, planted with 
 trees, the lions on the stone steps, all these things of 
 stone and wood affected her strangely. Several times 
 she went in, to see how the repairs were getting on. 
 One day, she even went up to the first floor and, urged 
 on by a sentiment that rendered her will powerless, 
 she stole into Jacques' rooms and examined them with 
 an emotion that was both painful and delicious. On 
 seeing that they were separated by a corridor from 
 Annie's rooms, she experienced a joy that made her 
 blush for herself. 
 
 The day when the Marquis and Marchioness d'An- 
 guilhon were expected back, Christiane, who had been
 
 260 AMERICAN NOBILITY 
 
 awake a long time before daylight, found herself listen- 
 ing intently for the slightest noise that should an- 
 nounce their arrival. As soon as she knew they were 
 there, only a few steps away from her, she longed to 
 see the young wife, to question her, to find out 
 what? She did not know herself what she wanted 
 to find out, but it seemed to her that she should feel 
 tranquil after seeing Annie. She went out shopping 
 to the Bon Marche", but she was only there a few 
 minutes. She then set off walking at random and, 
 after going a very long way round, she arrived at 
 the door of the Anguilhons' house, just as the clock 
 was striking eleven. She stopped, under the pretext 
 of asking after them, and, on hearing that the Marquis 
 had just gone out, she went in to see his wife. She 
 had hoped that Jacques would not be at home. 
 
 Annie was delighted at the idea of seeing the 
 Duchess again and came downstairs at once. On 
 seeing her advance, through the long suite of re- 
 ception-rooms, the Duchess guessed that she was in 
 an interesting condition. It gave her a violent 
 shock and it was with quivering lips that she kissed 
 her. 
 
 " I was passing," she said, " and could not resist 
 the temptation of coming in to welcome you home." 
 
 " I am so glad to see you again," said Annie, in a 
 sincere tone of voice. " Your beautiful roses gave me 
 the greatest pleasure and I always fancy that flowers 
 bring good luck." 
 
 " I think you are looking still prettier," said 
 Madame de Blanzac after scanning Annie's face 
 eagerly. 
 
 " Do you really think so ? Oh, so much the better." 
 
 " Well, did I praise French husbands too much ? "
 
 AMERICAN NOBILITY 261 
 
 asked the Duchess, with a smile that ill concealed her 
 emotion. 
 
 " No, Jacques is perfect, but I expect there are not 
 many men like him." 
 
 " Oh, yes, there are," answered Christiane, and then, 
 urged on by a strange curiosity, she began to ply 
 Annie with questions, trying to lead up to certain 
 confidences. Annie did not understand and she simply 
 told about their travels without the slightest em- 
 barrassment, and without any emotion at all. Her 
 husband's name was constantly on her lips and it 
 was easy to see that he was the axis round which 
 her own life turned. By means of all she told, and 
 without having any idea of it herself, Annie opened 
 the sanctuary door of her married life wide enough 
 for her visitor to see all at a glance. Christiane 
 understood that Jacques was a tender husband, but 
 he was not a lover. She had come in search of this 
 conviction and it made her so happy that she felt 
 strangely grateful to Annie and, on leaving her, she 
 kissed her with an outburst of sincere friendship. 
 
 " I am delighted to have you for a neighbour," she 
 said, on going away. " You will be welcome at any 
 time. If you need any advice on any matter, put on 
 your hat and come to me at once. That is a bargain, 
 is it not?" 
 
 Christiane knew that Jacques would not fail to call 
 on her that day. Towards two o'clock, when she heard 
 his footsteps, she felt weak with emotion. When he 
 entered the room, his joyful, triumphant air con- 
 trasted so thoroughly with her own feelings, that she 
 at once regained her composure. She held out her 
 hand to him, as she would have done to an ordinary 
 visitor.
 
 202 AMERICAN NOBILITY 
 
 "And so you are back from the perilous journey?" 
 she said gaily. 
 
 " Perilous journey ! " repeated Jacques, laughing. 
 " Is that what you call the wedding-trip? " 
 
 " Is it not a good name for it? People often come 
 back from it minus their illusions. Sometimes they 
 come back with a broken heart. That is not your 
 case certainly, for you look like a happy man." 
 
 " And I ain a happy man," answered Jacques. 
 
 As he uttered these words, he bent his knee before 
 the Duchess. 
 
 "What are you doing?" she asked, frowning. 
 
 " Returning thanks," he answered, half seriously and 
 half in a joke. " This time last year I was desper- 
 ate. I had run out of my money and had nothing 
 left but to go and end my life decently in Africa. 
 At present, everything is open to me. I have the best 
 things this world has to give and I owe everything to 
 you." 
 
 A spasm of pain contracted the Duchess's face. 
 
 " You owe everything to me ! You are much too 
 modest. You won your wife's heart by your good 
 looks. And then, do you not think that your marriage 
 was foreordained? Even if I did help, I was obliged 
 to do so. Yes, I had no choice," she added, with a 
 sort of anger. 
 
 " Whether you were obliged or not, it is very sweet 
 to me to think that I owe my happiness to you." 
 
 " But I do not care to have you give me credit for 
 what is not due to me." 
 
 These words were uttered in so haughty a tone that 
 Jacques immediately rose and looked at the Duchess 
 with a questioning expression, as though asking her 
 her meaning. He had never allowed any woman to
 
 AMERICAN NOBILITY 263 
 
 treat him disdainfully, or to make him the plaything 
 of her caprices. 
 
 Christiane pacified him with a smile. 
 
 " Sit down/' she said gently, " and do not look like 
 an offended god. You must have a hundred interest- 
 ing things to tell me. First of all, what do you think 
 of marriage ? " 
 
 " Everything has been very pleasant," he answered, 
 but from the tone of his voice it was evident that he 
 had not quite recovered from his annoyance. " Annie 
 is simply a treasure. She is always gay, even-tempered, 
 and very good-hearted. I do not imagine that there 
 are many women who would have invited their mother- 
 in-law to join them on their wedding-trip." 
 
 *' No, indeed ! " 
 
 " And this visit was a very happy idea, for my 
 mother and Annie now know each other well and are 
 the best of friends. I was very much afraid that the 
 difference of nationality might prove an obstacle to 
 this, but I was mistaken. How do you think Annie 
 looks?" 
 
 " She looks charming. She has very much im- 
 proved," said the Duchess, with praiseworthy honesty. 
 
 " Yes, has she not? And did you notice ? " 
 
 Christiane's eyelids quivered. 
 
 " Yes I congratulate you." 
 
 " When I think that, in a few months' time, I shall 
 have a son " 
 
 " Or a daughter- 
 
 " No, no, a son," repeated Jacques. " Oh, I expect 
 everything I want now. You cannot imagine how 
 happy the thought of this makes me. I should have 
 been in despair if my family had died out absolutely." 
 
 These words harrowed Christiane's very soul.
 
 264 AMERICAN NOBILITY 
 
 " And what are your plans now? " she asked, by way 
 of changing the subject. 
 
 " As we cannot go to America, I shall begin by 
 organising things for our house/' 
 
 With all a young man's ardour, Jacques began to 
 explain his plans, but, either warned by Madame de 
 Blanzac's expression, or instinctively feeling that it 
 was not exactly good taste to appear so thoroughly 
 master of his wife's money, he suddenly stopped 
 short. 
 
 " There is really so much to be done," he said, " that 
 I do not know where to begin. Blonay has not been 
 inhabited for twelve years. It will have to be put 
 in a habitable state, for I want it to be my son's 
 birthplace, as it was mine. The very thought that 
 I shall see it again makes my heart beat. I shall be 
 so glad if you will come and stay with us there in 
 October. I will show you all the nooks and corners 
 of the old home. It is full of memories of my child- 
 hood and youth. You have come so thoroughly into 
 my life, that I shall want you at Blonay, just as I 
 wanted you at Rome." 
 
 " At Rome, during your honeymoon ? " exclaimed the 
 Duchess, appearing to doubt his words, simply for 
 the pleasure of hearing him repeat what she knew to 
 be true. 
 
 " Yes, Annie is a foreigner and a Protestant. There 
 are crowds of things that she could never understand. 
 My thoughts often went out to you at Blanzac. If 
 telepathy really existed, you would have known of it. 
 You cannot imagine how delighted I am to have you 
 here, close to me. You cannot escape from me," added 
 Jacques, laughing. 
 
 Christiane's face darkened over.
 
 AMERICAN NOBILITY 265 
 
 " No," she said, as though talking to herself, " I 
 cannot." 
 
 " I owe you a big debt," continued Jacques, gravely, 
 " although you will not hear of it. I hope it will be 
 possible for me, even if I cannot pay it back, to do 
 something for your happiness. In the meantime, I 
 want you to promise to consider me your best friend. 
 Will you?" 
 
 Christiane nodded, without uttering a word, and 
 Jacques' eyes glistened. 
 
 " Thank you," he said, quietly, " I am very glad you 
 consent." 
 
 He then rose and took leave of her. The Duchess 
 watched him go away with a sad look in her eyes. 
 She had thought so much about him and she had 
 hoped She asked herself what she had hoped. 
 She could not answer this question, nor did she wish 
 to answer it. She only knew that she was horribly 
 disappointed. He had come and talked of his happi- 
 ness, of his wife, of his child, and of his future plans. 
 He had expressed his gratitude to her and that was all. 
 
 " Ah, he is very much married," she said to herself. 
 " A few more visits like this one and I shall be quite 
 cured."
 
 CHAPTER VI 
 
 WHEN a tree is transplanted into new soil, its life 
 undergoes a sort of sudden stop and then its roots 
 begin to seek for the juices necessary to them. They 
 absorb one substance, reject another and recoil, like 
 sensitive plants, from contact with harmful elements. 
 For some time the functions are irregular, the sap 
 mounts, stops, and then begins to mount again. The 
 tree languishes and then revives, recovers definitely, 
 or dies. The identical thing takes place in a human 
 being who is uprooted and transplanted. Annie went 
 through all these phases and suffered all the more 
 on account of her strong individuality. During her 
 wedding-trip, she had not felt that she was irrevocably 
 separated from her own people. When she was in the 
 old family home of the Anguilhons, where she could 
 not even hear the noises of Paris, where she was sur- 
 rounded by new faces and heard no more English, 
 she felt very, very far away from America, and this 
 made her heart rather heavy. As soon as she could 
 escape from what Clara called her " fortress," she 
 hastened to the H6tel Castiglione. She went with her 
 mother to the dressmakers and all about Paris. She 
 took pleasure in chaperoning her cousin here and there, 
 chattering all the time, as though she had been de- 
 prived of speech for days and days. 
 
 Mrs. Villars and Clara stayed in Paris only three 
 
 266
 
 AMERICAN NOBILITY 267 
 
 weeks. Their departure was a great trouble to Annie. 
 When they were actually getting into the train, it was 
 all she could do to keep from sobbing. When once 
 the train moved off, she seized her husband's arm 
 instinctively, and clung to him. 
 
 On their way home again, Jacques talked to her of 
 their journey to America in a year's time. The year 
 would go so quickly, he assured her. He went through 
 all the pleasant things they intended doing and, with 
 a few of the tender words which he knew so well how 
 to say, he managed to restore her good spirits. 
 
 With the common-sense that characterised her, Annie 
 tried to initiate herself into the ways and customs of 
 the people among whom she was to live. Madame 
 d'Anguilhon helped her in the most intelligent and 
 kindly way. She drew up her visiting-list for her, 
 told her the histories of the persons with whom she 
 would have intercourse, and did her best to give her 
 all the necessary information about everything. 
 
 Every day, Annie took her Paris correspondence to 
 her mother-in-law, who told her the terms to be em- 
 ployed in her various letters and gave her details about 
 the charitable institutions of which people wrote to 
 her. She also taught her how to keep house. Annie 
 was soon able to put dollars into francs, to examine 
 the bills presented by the chef and the butler, to choose 
 the menus, and to give all the necessary orders. She 
 was soon able to grasp the material side of French 
 life, but the mental and moral side remained an enigma 
 to her. 
 
 Her reception by the Faubourg St.-Germain society 
 somewhat disconcerted her. As the rich Miss Villars, 
 she had been made much of, but as the Marchioness 
 d'Anguilhon, she was received coldly. She was treated
 
 268 AMERICAN NOBILITY 
 
 as a little American who had married a title, and she 
 noticed that people took a condescending or patronising 
 air when they talked to her. In spite of her name 
 and rank, she was less at home in French society than 
 she had been the year before. At dinners, receptions, 
 and when paying calls, people talked of persons and 
 families she did not know and stories were told which 
 she was at a loss to comprehend. She was not well 
 up in the intrigues, gossip, politics, or literature of the 
 day and could not, therefore, take part in the discus- 
 sions. People who were introduced to her, or to whom 
 she was introduced, soon saw that she was not au 
 courant and just exchanged a few commonplace re- 
 marks with her. She came away from all these recep- 
 tions bewildered and disconcerted. In this foreign 
 atmosphere, she was, of course, struck by the defects 
 which were the most objectionable to her, such as 
 sentimentality, exaggeration, and everything artificial. 
 Some of the people seemed to her to be too prudish 
 and others too free. The latter both amused and 
 shocked her. When she saw certain smiles on the lips 
 of women and certain expressions in men's eyes, she 
 felt uncomfortable and was glad to go and take refuge 
 among the dowagers. This was considered to be rather 
 clever scheming on her part. She was disgusted to 
 hear the conversation turn constantly on the subject 
 of love and on the conjugal troubles of this husband 
 or that wife. French flirtation was a revelation to 
 her, and a revelation that was neither pleasant nor 
 reassuring. She was horrified to hear men and women 
 of the highest rank freely discussing certain subjects, 
 and she could not help expressing her indignation to 
 Madame de Keradieu. 
 " My dear child," answered the Baroness, " you must
 
 AMERICAN NOBILITY 269 
 
 take into account the fact that English is a language 
 without delicate shades. It is a very strong language 
 and it makes vulgar things sound absolutely ignoble, 
 whilst the French language renders them irresistibly 
 droll. You have been struck by the two extremes, but 
 you need not be alarmed. In the Faubourg society, 
 you will find a good average of virtuous people, quite 
 enough to satisfy you." 
 
 " How I pity American women who have married 
 over here just to get a title ! " 
 
 " I know a few who seem very happy." 
 
 " Oh, that is surely impossible," exclaimed Annie, 
 impetuously. " If I did not care for Jacques as much 
 as I do, I should take the first boat back to America." 
 
 " And before the end of a year, my dear girl," said 
 Madame de Keradieu, "you would have returned to 
 Paris." 
 
 During the first few months, Annie's life would not 
 have been enviable, if she had not had the friendship 
 of the Keradieus, of the Duchess de Blanzac and the 
 Viscount de Nozay. 
 
 The Duchess was not jealous of Annie, as she felt 
 that she and her husband were so far apart. She felt 
 a curious desire to be kind to her. In society, she 
 took pains to show her up to the best advantage and 
 came to her rescue constantly, in a hundred different 
 ways. When Annie met her glance or her smile, she 
 always felt as though some one had taken her by the 
 hand. She often went to the Duchess for advice, 
 and there was great intimacy between the two 
 households. 
 
 The Viscount de Nozay liked Annie's society. With 
 her moral and physical healthiness, she had a restful 
 effect on him, after so many nervous women and so
 
 270 AMERICAN NOBILITY 
 
 many, too, with nervous disorders. Her simple-minded- 
 ness amazed him. It was the first time he had ever 
 been able to read a feminine soul without the least 
 difficulty. 
 
 One day, on seeing her fresh, young face among a 
 group of women, whose eyes and lips had been cleverly 
 touched up and whose hair had been dyed golden or 
 red, he said to himself in astonishment : " But she 
 does not even put any powder on her face ! " This 
 fact seemed to mean to him that she was absolutely 
 without a woman's weapons, and he took her, in a way, 
 under his protection. She always found him near her 
 when she needed him. Guy now had a rocking-chair 
 at his disposal at the Marchioness d'Anguilhon's, as 
 well as at the Keradieus, and he declared that he had 
 sufficient consolation for the rest of his life. 
 
 It was not only in society that Annie felt strange, 
 but in her own house, too. She could not get used to 
 the ways of the servants. The importance that the 
 Faubourg domestics put on, irritated, and almost in- 
 timidated her. She had none of those words at her 
 command which make the intercourse between servants 
 and their employers go smoothly. Words were just 
 what she lacked. She only appreciated deeds. She 
 was one of those rich people who never have any- 
 thing but gold coins with them, who never carry small 
 change. 
 
 Annie felt nothing yet of that sentiment, so strong 
 and sweet, of which her mother-in-law had told her. 
 When she had taken the first little garments of the 
 layette to show to Madame d'Anguilhon, and had seen 
 the tears come to her eyes and her fingers tremble as 
 she handled them, and then had heard her murmur: 
 " I never imagined it would be so sweet to feel one's
 
 AMERICAN NOBILITY 271 
 
 self a grandmother," she had felt ashamed of her own 
 indifference. She could not help it, though, and then, 
 too, she had not recovered from her disappointment 
 at not being able to go to Clara's wedding. When she 
 had read the description of the ceremony in the news- 
 papers, she had had a fit of anger and grief. She 
 thought of the effect Jacques would have produced, as 
 they walked up the church aisle. All eyes would have 
 been fixed on him, and every one would have envied her ! 
 " It really is too annoying," she had kept saying to 
 herself and she wished, at the bottom of her heart, that 
 this precious baby had stayed a little longer among 
 the angels. The presence of Jacques was always 
 enough, though, to chase away her home-sickness and 
 all her regrets. When he was with her, she was per- 
 fectly happy. But, unfortunately, he was not often 
 with her now. From morning to night, he was occu- 
 pied with the arrangements for their house. He had 
 to see lawyers, tradespeople, and workmen of all kinds. 
 He went to Blonay every week, to hurry on the repairs 
 and alterations, for he wanted to have everything ready 
 for June. He very rarely had time, even, to go with 
 Annie to the Bois, in the mornings. 
 
 She had felt a little pang when she had seen that 
 her husband was to have a suite of rooms to himself. 
 This French arrangement, which leaves a husband and 
 wife a certain freedom, seemed absurd to Annie. It 
 was all very well, as she said to herself, if they 
 wanted to play The Ironmaster. She realised that the 
 intimacy of Cannes and Rome was all over and she 
 felt almost like a widow. In Paris, Jacques seemed 
 to her like another man. He was less boyish and 
 more important as it were. She did not care to go 
 to his rooms without some pretext, but she always
 
 272 AMERICAN NOBILITY 
 
 found one easily enough. She liked paying these little 
 visits. The Marquis, with his exquisite courtesy, al- 
 ways rose to receive her and welcomed her with some 
 pretty little speech. She would sit down on the arm 
 of his chair, as that was always her favourite place 
 and, perched up there, with his arm round her, she 
 chattered to her heart's content and found it very 
 amusing. 
 
 It seemed to Annie, though, that in Paris, there were 
 too many people and too many things between herself 
 and her husband. Sometimes she regretted that he 
 was not a simple American. They would have been 
 more free and more happy, as they could have shut 
 up their house and started off to Egypt, India, or 
 China so easily. She liked his name and title, but 
 they certainly did bring, in their train, a whole crowd 
 of obligations. She felt as though she had been caught 
 in a network, the meshes of which were being drawn 
 up around her. She wondered in alarm, whether, like 
 most of the women of the aristocracy, she should be 
 always obliged to turn round in the same circle. For 
 the sake of reassuring herself on this score, she was 
 always finding a different way of making Jacques 
 repeat that he was modern, extremely modern, that 
 he liked travelling, and that he was longing to see 
 America.
 
 CHAPTER VII 
 
 WHEN a soul is destined to experience passionate 
 love, that love will develop in its own good time, and 
 neither will-power nor any efforts will prevent it from 
 following its course and accomplishing its work of 
 elevation or degradation, of life or death. It was thus 
 with Christiane's love for the Marquis d'Anguilhon. 
 
 To all appearance, Jacques was just the same as 
 ever with the Duchess. He went to see her nearly 
 every day, he consulted her about everything, and had 
 the warmest friendship for her. She felt, though, that 
 he had, in a way, escaped from her power. He looked 
 at her and did not see her. There was nothing now 
 in his kiss on her hand and their conversations were 
 absolutely commonplace. He appeared to avoid touch- 
 ing on all dangerous subjects. It was all in vain that 
 Christiane tried to console herself by saying that he 
 was " very much married." That did not cure her at 
 all. When he came near her, her whole being thrilled, 
 she was filled with divine joy, and the very sun seemed 
 to be brighter. When he went away, she felt an in- 
 ward wrench and a horrible sensation of cold. It was 
 no good reasoning with herself, as this phenomenon 
 took place in spite of all her reasoning. Pride, rather 
 than virtue, prevented the Duchess from attempting to 
 win Jacques back. The idea of sharing his love with 
 another woman was revolting. She had always con- 
 18 273
 
 274 AMERICAN NOBILITY 
 
 sidered that, in such cases, the lover was more ridi- 
 culous than the husband, the mistress more to be pitied 
 than the legitimate wife. She had often argued in 
 this way and it was her conviction. The love she felt 
 for the Marquis humiliated her. It was an affront to 
 her character and to her past life. She would have 
 denied it in the very face of death, and she was only 
 tranquil because she thought that she was capable of 
 hiding it from everyone. 
 
 Christiane belonged to the same feminine type as St. 
 Theresa. She had the capacity of feeling every kind 
 of voluptuousness, even that of grief. In the end, she 
 found a certain enjoyment in suffering. Her love be- 
 came all the dearer to her, because she was crucifying 
 it. It was as though she bore within her something 
 that was living. She would exclaim sometimes in a 
 sort of ecstasy : " I am in love, I am in love ! " and 
 this state seemed preferable to her to the ntant in 
 which she had hitherto been living. 
 
 Dr. Moreau knew that she was no longer struggling 
 and so he struggled for her. He endeavoured to inter- 
 est her in charitable work as before. She would listen 
 to him for a few minutes and then become absent- 
 minded. She would answer in monosyllables and 
 simply offer money for the charity in question. The 
 year before, she had been like a beneficent goddess in 
 her bountiful, genial charity, but now she was only 
 a poor woman in love, a woman whose thoughts were 
 all centred in one being. 
 
 Dr. Moreau felt the deepest pity for her. He said 
 to himself that the physical affinities which existed 
 between her and Jacques would, in the end, bring them 
 together. He knew too much of life not to be aware 
 that adventures of this kind invariably terminate in a
 
 AMERICAN NOBILITY 275 
 
 catastrophe, and he vowed to himself that he would 
 watch over the Duchess and save her, if possible. He 
 would save her and give her to the unfortunates of 
 the world.
 
 CHAPTER VIII 
 
 THE Marquis d'Anguilhon had no intention of using 
 their money in trying to outdo, in luxury, all the finan- 
 ciers, rich manufacturers, and foreign parvenus. Like 
 most of the men of the French aristocracy, he felt that 
 he owed Paris a sort of grudge. He argued that the 
 nobility, ruined in the name of humanitarian ideas, 
 might very well, now, turn this weapon against its 
 enemies. It might live as much as possible in its 
 chateaux, remake its estates, encourage agriculture, 
 and help the peasants. In a word, it might put into 
 practice the famous principles which the middle class, 
 occupied in getting rich itself, had merely proclaimed. 
 Jacques was quite prepared to set the example. With 
 his wife's approval, he had decided that the appoint- 
 ments of their town house, in Paris, should be on quite 
 a simple scale and that they would give to Blonay 
 its original splendour. 
 
 At the very commencement of feudal times, the 
 Anguilhons had built their family nest on a hill in 
 the province of Bourbonnais, about an hour's journey 
 from Moulins, and the chateau was considered one of 
 the finest in France. The news of the return of the 
 owners caused great excitement in the neighbourhood. 
 The name of the Anguilhons was in all the legends 
 and in all the stories that people told in the long 
 winter evenings. In 1789, the tenants had defended 
 
 276
 
 AMERICAN NOBILITY 277 
 
 the chateau against the revolutionary bands. Jacques' 
 grandfather had rescued two children from fire in a 
 burning farm-house. In all the epidemics, the chateau 
 people had never been afraid to risk their lives, and 
 had braved contagion at the bedside of their tenants. 
 Every winter, the Marchioness had always sent warm 
 garments and all the money she could spare for the 
 Blonay poor. When any of the people had business in 
 Paris, they never failed to go and pay their respects 
 to " their lady." They were always sure of a welcome 
 and they had always found a good meal in the modest 
 kitchen of the Rue de Bellechasse. All these things 
 had given the Anguilhons a popularity which neither 
 politics nor bribery could diminish. In many of the 
 little homes, the Anguilhons were still prayed for and 
 when the parish priest announced the anniversary of 
 the death of a member of the family, these poor people 
 considered it their duty to be present at the Mass. 
 The peasant is instinctively conservative, and he does 
 not care for middle-class people who are either too 
 familiar or too proud. Putting money by slowly him- 
 self, the peasant has not much faith in the honesty of 
 rapidly-made fortunes. Then, too, now that he no 
 longer fears the taxes which he had been led to believe 
 he would have to pay, he prefers the chateau being 
 inhabited by an old aristocratic family rather than 
 by parvenus who, according to him are " nobodies." 
 
 On his return to Paris, Jacques had put Blonay into 
 the hands of a clever architect. He had employed 
 workmen day and night, so that the house was quite 
 ready for the early part of June. The priest had 
 begged Jacques to come back on the day of the village 
 fe*te, so that he could be welcomed without giving any 
 offence to the Mayor.
 
 278 AMERICAN NOBILITY 
 
 On the sixteenth of June, Jacques, with his wife ;md 
 mother, arrived at Moulins. They stopped at the hotel 
 to have luncheon and then got into a landau drawn 
 by two superb horses. 
 
 It was beautiful weather and, from Moulins to 
 Blonay, the road lies half-way up some green slopes 
 and gradually mounts until it overlooks the valley. 
 Annie could not stop to admire the fine panorama 
 which stretched before her to the right, as she was 
 looking for the chateau. 
 
 " Where is it ? " she asked, with childish impatience. 
 
 " There," exclaimed Jacques suddenly. 
 
 It was as though his word had been magic, for the 
 imposing building loomed out before them in the dis- 
 tance, the stately outlines of a fifteenth-century 
 chateau, with its pepper-box towers. 
 
 " How beautiful ! " exclaimed Annie. 
 
 "Yes, is it not?" said the Marquis, gazing proudly 
 at the old family home. 
 
 As soon as the carriage was seen, the flag with the 
 arms of the Anguilhons was hoisted on the chateau 
 and then the flag of the United States. 
 
 At the sight of this, Annie uttered a cry of joy. 
 
 " Oh, Jacques, thank you ! " she said, flushing with 
 pleasure. 
 
 " I wanted you to feel quite at home, my little 
 Yankee," answered the Marquis, smiling. 
 
 As the carriage passed under the triumphal arch, 
 which had been put up at the entrance of the village, 
 the bells pealed out joyfully, caps were waved, and 
 enthusiastic " Hurrahs " were to be heard from all 
 sides. Jacques bowed in return with a truly royal 
 graciousness and with that kindly, and at the same 
 time dignified, manner, that made him so fascinating.
 
 AMERICAN NOBILITY 279 
 
 Both he and his mother were deeply affected. Annie 
 was simply delighted. It was the first time in her 
 life that she had experienced the pleasure of an ovation 
 and she thought it perfectly delightful. There was 
 only one thing she regretted and that was that her 
 mother, her aunts, Clara, and all New York were not 
 there to witness this triumphal entry. The carriage 
 drew up at the church. It had been decided that they 
 should get there in time for Mass. The priest came 
 to the door to receive them and conducted them to 
 their pew, the pew which had been empty for twelve 
 years. At the risk of being sent away, Monsieur 
 Xambride sang a Te Deum and addressed a few words 
 of welcome from the pulpit to the returned exiles. 
 Madame d'Anguilhon had asked to be allowed to offer 
 the consecrated bread, which was given not only to 
 those who entered the church, but also to the crowd 
 gathered in the Square. On leaving the church, two 
 pupils of the " Sisters of the Presentation " stepped 
 forward and handed magnificent bouquets of a rose 
 peculiar to that district to the Marchioness and her 
 daughter-in-law. Hundreds of voices then cried : " Long 
 live the Marquis! Long live the Marchioness," and 
 then : " Hurrah for America ! " Well-meaning as this 
 last cry was, Annie did not like it. It gave her the 
 impression that she was not looked upon as one of 
 the family. 
 
 The carriage now went on its way. It passed slowly 
 along between two lines of people, curious to see the 
 new arrivals. A second triumphal arch had been put 
 up at the other end of the village and, after passing 
 under this, they turned to the right, continued another 
 five minutes, and then came to the boundaries of the 
 estate. They drove on up-hill, crossed the drawbridge,
 
 280 AMERICAN NOBILITY 
 
 now always lowered, entered the court of honour, and, 
 after describing a magnificent curve, drew up at the 
 stone steps of the house. 
 
 Jacques was too deeply affected to trust himself to 
 speak. He only clasped the hand which his wife put 
 into his, as she stepped down from the carriage. 
 
 Blonay was built on the heights. From the wide 
 terrace, above which the imposing and massive chateau 
 rose, the whole valley could be seen, and grassy slopes 
 led down to a beautiful park. In spite of the severity 
 of its style and of its interior decoration, it was neither 
 hard-looking nor cold. The two principal facades had 
 an east and west aspect. There was so much sun and 
 light in the vast rooms that the personages on the 
 tapestried walls appeared to be smiling, and the old 
 oak woodwork shone. Among Jacques' ancestors, 
 there had been scientific men, chroniclers, and poets, 
 as well as warriors. The latter had bequeathed their 
 weapons and trophies of victory to their descendants 
 and the former had enriched the library and had 
 bought works of art. The brilliant wit and intelligence 
 and the generous soul of the Anguilhons had put some- 
 thing warm and congenial into the family abode which 
 made a very agreeable impression on Annie. 
 
 From the very first minute, she felt more at home 
 here than she had ever felt in the Rue de Varenne 
 house, where she had been living for three months. 
 If Jacques had allowed her, she would have begun at 
 once to inspect the chateau, but he insisted on her 
 resting until luncheon. He and his mother took her 
 to her rooms, passing through the picture-gallery 
 vith its portraits of the Anguilhons. The American 
 girl felt almost shy as she glanced at these grand 
 ladies, all so stiff and so imposing, at the knights
 
 AMERICAN NOBILITY 281 
 
 in their armour and the nobles with their frills and 
 doublets. 
 
 " I shall have to make their acquaintance," she 
 said. 
 
 "That will be very easy," answered the Marquis. 
 " You will find their history written in our archives. 
 We will look them up together." 
 
 They passed through a suite of admirably-furnished 
 reception rooms, crossed a landing, and Annie was 
 then shown into her rooms. She was capable of appre- 
 ciating what was really beautiful and rather liked the 
 simplicity of her drawing-room, but she was simply 
 delighted when Jacques showed her the boudoir that 
 he had arranged for her in the tower, which formed 
 one of the corners of the chateau. This room was 
 hung with Persian draperies, the furniture was very 
 beautiful, and there were books and flowers and 
 everything necessary for rest and work. 
 
 " And to think that all my life I have wanted a 
 room in a tower," she exclaimed, " and in a tower like 
 this," she continued, " old and grey with a cone-shaped 
 roof." 
 
 " I am very glad to be able to satisfy your fancy," 
 answered Jacques. 
 
 " I had never dreamed of so beautiful a view, 
 though," added Annie, looking at the lovely valley, 
 crossed by the Allier and at the blue chain of the 
 Puy-de-D6me mountains. 
 
 Madame d'Anguilhon laid her hand gently on her 
 daughter-in-law's shoulder. 
 
 " Now, my dear child, enough admiration for the 
 present. You must rest a little." 
 
 " Well, I will go and rest, just to please you." 
 
 " That is right."
 
 282 . AMERICAN NOBILITY 
 
 " I hope you will be happy here," she said, kissing 
 Annie, and mentally she added, " happier than I was." 
 
 " Oh, I am sure I shall be," answered the young 
 wife, with her fine confidence. 
 
 After luncheon, Annie wanted to have an idea of 
 her home. She had never seen a real chateau, except 
 in pictures, so that she was greatly impressed by 
 Blonay as a whole. The thickness of the walls, the 
 monumental fire-places, and all that reminded her of 
 far-back times of which she knew so little, caused her 
 astonishment mingled with respect. When she com- 
 pared this old dwelling with the most beautiful houses 
 she knew in New York, she realised better than she 
 had ever done the difference which exists between 
 aristocracy and plutocracy. 
 
 With the approval of her daughter-in-law, Madame 
 d'Anguilhon had invited the priest to dinner. Mon- 
 sieur Nambride was a man of superior intelligence, 
 very sincere and a gentleman. For the last twenty- 
 five years, he had been a friend of the Anguilhons and 
 a devoted and faithful friend too. He had been at 
 the death-bed of the Marquis, and Madame d'Anguilhon 
 had always been able to count on his good advice and 
 his moral help. On hearing of Jacques' engagement 
 to a foreigner and a Protestant, he had had grave fears. 
 He considered a mixed marriage of this kind as an 
 imperfect union, and he had had dreadful visions of 
 the Anglican Church, of deaconesses, and of attempts 
 at religious conversion. As soon as he had seen Annie, 
 though, he had felt reassured. Her respectful be- 
 haviour during Mass gave him a very good opinion as 
 regarded her tact and her character. 
 
 Annie, on her side, who had heard so much about the 
 influence of the Catholic priest in the families of the
 
 AMERICAN NOBILITY 283 
 
 aristocracy, had very much dreaded the Blonay one. 
 She was too thoroughly American to be able to 
 endure the intervention of any one in her household 
 and she intended to be on her guard. She was very 
 favourably impressed by the distinction and refinement 
 of Monsieur Nambride and she was fascinated by his 
 face, with its regular features, from which shone forth 
 a good and loyal soul. She said to herself that he 
 was a gentleman and that one fact set her mind at 
 rest, as far as he was concerned. 
 
 The thought of the first dinner made Annie feel very 
 nervous. Her role as lady of the manor rather 
 alarmed her and she had never realised that she was 
 a marchioness so much before. In the superb oak 
 dining-room, with its armorial bearings, its high- 
 backed chairs, the footmen in full livery, and the 
 butler as imposing as some high functionary, she even 
 felt herself that she was quite an important person. 
 On looking around her, Annie remembered the words 
 of her husband at Assisi, and she felt that it had 
 taken several centuries to bring this home to the 
 state of perfection which so charmed her. She her- 
 self looked like a modern portrait in an antique 
 frame, and the contrast was so pretty that it brought 
 a smile of satisfaction, several times, to the lips of 
 the Marquis. 
 
 The dinner went off very pleasantly and they finished 
 the evening on the terrace. Monsieur Nambride talked 
 well and Annie liked his Touraine French. He quite 
 won her heart, though, by the interest he took in 
 American things. On going away, he thanked her for 
 the money she had given for distribution among the 
 poor. 
 
 " I shall give you an account of everything that is
 
 284 AMERICAN NOBILITY 
 
 done with it, Madame," he said. " I should like you 
 to know all the happiness and relief the sum you have- 
 placed at my disposal means. I thank God for send- 
 ing you to us. Now that we are four," he added, 
 looking at Jacques and his mother, " we shall be able 
 to do great things." With these words, the priest took 
 leave of his hosts. 
 
 Catherine had spent the whole afternoon visiting the 
 house. It all seemed to her very romantic and it had 
 impressed her very much more than the house in the 
 Rue de Varenne. At night, when she came to wait on 
 her young mistress, she looked radiant. 
 
 " Oh, my darling, what a beautiful home you will 
 have ! " she said. 
 
 " Very beautiful, indeed," answered Annie, " and I 
 feel that I shall be happy here." 
 
 Catherine began to talk enthusiastically about the 
 chapel, the underground passages, the enormous 
 kitchens, the conservatories, and the park. 
 
 " If only your aunts and your cousins could see it 
 all ! " she added. 
 
 " I will send them photographs," said Annie, " and 
 I am going to write to mother, at once." 
 
 " Oh, not to-night, my darling ! " protested Makay. 
 
 " Yes, I must, or I should not be able to sleep." 
 
 In spite of Catherine's entreaties, Annie insisted on 
 putting on her dressing-gown and settling herself in 
 an armchair, with her writing-pad on her knees. She 
 at once began her letter, and wrote off half a dozen 
 pages without stopping. She described her triumphal 
 entry into Blonay and added : 
 
 " I felt like the Queen of Italy passing along the 
 Corso and I discovered that it is not as easy as people 
 think to play the part of an important person." At
 
 AMERICAN NOBILITY 285 
 
 the close of her letter she said : " You ought, all of 
 you, to be very proud and very pleased to hear that 
 the American flag is floating over one of the oldest 
 castles in France."
 
 CHAPTER IX 
 
 ANNIE expected the birth of her child at the begin- 
 ning of August and she kept saying that she had never 
 felt better in her life. Madame d'Anguilhon was both 
 amazed and alarmed at her activity. The very day 
 after her arrival, she had insisted on visiting Moulins 
 and she went for an excursion in the neighbourhood 
 every day. She enjoyed nothing as much as going to 
 Vichy, where the season was at its height. She would 
 lunch at the restaurant of the Hdtel des Ambassadeurs, 
 listen to the music for a short time and return home, 
 delighted to have seen a little life and not in the least 
 tired. The provincial towns, with the grass growing 
 in the streets, caused her the greatest astonishment. 
 She watched the people and was surprised that the 
 French could be so solemn-looking. One day, on going 
 to pay a call at a very old house in Moulins, she said 
 to her husband quite seriously: 
 
 " Are you sure that the people are alive inside? " 
 
 " Alive? " exclaimed Jacques. " They are very much 
 alive and very much there, too." 
 
 She was not long in discovering for herself that 
 these provincial people, whom she had scarcely thought 
 alive, have to be taken into account in France. 
 
 Annie had imagined that her name and her great 
 wealth would suffice for winning a certain popularity 
 in the neighbourhood. She was somewhat astonished 
 
 286
 
 AMERICAN NOBILITY 287 
 
 to find that she was treated by the Blonay people, and 
 even by the peasants, with reserve and even with dis- 
 trust. When she went through the village, people 
 greeted her respectfully, they even came out to their 
 doorsteps to see her, but they looked at her with more 
 curiosity than real liking. The children would stop 
 playing as she approached, nudge each other, and 
 whisper : " Here 's the American lady," very much as 
 they might have said : " Here 's the Bogey ! " 
 
 She felt rather humiliated by all this, all the more 
 as she had the best intentions and was quite prepared 
 to act as a Frenchwoman would have done. Ever 
 since she had been at Blonay, she had realised that 
 she had responsibilities, and she was anxious to do 
 her duty as lady of the mannor in a creditable way. 
 If it had not been for the help and guidance of her 
 mother-in-law and the priest, she would have been 
 greatly at a loss to know how to do any good in these 
 fresh surroundings. The dirtiness of the peasants' 
 houses horrified her so much that she spoke to the 
 priest about it. 
 
 " Do not imagine," he said, " that it is like this 
 everywhere in France. Our country might be divided 
 into clean provinces and dirty provinces. Normandy, 
 Anjou, and Touraine are clean; Brittany, Auvergne, 
 and Bourbonnais are, unfortunately, dirty. Why is 
 this so? We shall have to look for the cause of this 
 vice in the temperament of the people. I have been in 
 despair about it for twenty-five years." 
 
 Thereupon Annie's brain began to work. They 
 would build a sort of club-house, such as they have 
 in America, where peasants might meet together and 
 find books and all sorts of more wholesome amuse- 
 ments than the public-house. Lecturers might come
 
 288 AMERICAN NOBILITY 
 
 and teach them the laws of health and keep them in- 
 formed about the various discoveries concerning agri- 
 culture. Then sanitary arrangements might be better 
 organised for facilitating cleanliness, and shrubs and 
 flowers might be planted round the cottages. Prizes 
 could be given to the women who kept their houses 
 in the best order. 
 
 The priest approved all these ideas enthusiastically. 
 Annie's energy and her forward movement delighted 
 him and he would rub his hands and say: "Hurrah 
 for America ! " 
 
 On the second of August, there was great silence 
 throughout the house. The servants were all going 
 about on tiptoes, closing the doors after them quietly 
 and speaking in hushed voices. The birth of the child 
 was expected from minute to minute. 
 
 Jacques had taken refuge in the library. His face 
 was drawn with anxiety and he was pacing up and 
 down the room trying to master his emotion. After 
 an hour of anguish, the door suddenly opened and the 
 doctor appeared. 
 
 " A boy," he announced, triumphantly, " and a very 
 fine specimen too. Allow me to congratulate you. 
 Everything is satisfactory." 
 
 Jacques wiped the cold perspiration from his face. 
 
 " Ah, I knew it would be a boy," he stammered out, 
 beaming with joy, " I felt sure of it. It had to be 
 a boy." 
 
 As soon as he was allowed, he went to his wife's 
 room. His heart was beating quickly as he approached 
 the bed. He stooped and kissed Annie so tenderly 
 that, in spite of her languor, she felt the unusual 
 fervour of his caress. 
 
 " Oh, what a nice kiss ! " she murmured and then,
 
 AMERICAN NOBILITY 289 
 
 with a smile, she added : " I am so glad it is a 
 boy." 
 
 Madame d'Anguilhon now appeared, carrying the 
 little one. She presented it to the parents without 
 uttering a word, but her eyes were wet and her lips 
 were quivering. 
 
 Annie kissed her child and then examined him seri- 
 ously. " Heaven be thanked, he is not ugly," she said, 
 " and he has some hair." 
 
 In his dreams, Jacques had always thought of his 
 son with wide-open eyes, walking and talking. He was 
 a little taken aback at this little red face with its 
 closed eyelids. He pressed his lips to the little fore- 
 head almost timidly, but the touch of this warm, 
 velvety flesh, thrilled his whole being and paternal love 
 awoke within him in all its sweetness and in all its 
 strength. He kissed the tiny hands over and over 
 again, stirred to the very depth of his being by this 
 new caress. 
 
 " The doctor tells me he is a very fine specimen. 
 What do you think, Mother?" he asked, with a shade 
 of anxiety in his tone. 
 
 " He is admirably well formed and will be a beauti- 
 ful boy," answered the Marchioness. " You were 
 neither as strong nor as pretty." 
 
 " Really? Oh, then I feel quite easy in my mind." 
 
 " Jacques," said Annie, " you must send a cable to 
 my mother, to Clara and 
 
 " To the two aunts, I suppose." 
 
 " Yes, and if you will send the news yourself, I 
 should like it " 
 
 The Marquis raised his wife's white hand to his 
 lips. 
 
 " I cannot refuse anything, to-day. I will go myself 
 
 19
 
 290 AMERICAN NOBILITY 
 
 to Moulins and I will call at Monsieur Nambride's on 
 the way," he added, kissing his mother. 
 
 While his horse was being saddled, Jacques wrote 
 out the messages to Annie's family, to his own, and to 
 the Duchess de Blanzac and Guy de Nozay. He smiled 
 on thinking what a sorry figure he would have cut if 
 he had had to announce the birth of a daughter. 
 
 The first experience of paternity, like first love, 
 arouses feelings that never come a second time. At 
 the thought that the sap was mounting once more in 
 the old family tree and that a male offshoot would 
 now perhaps give it a few more centuries of existence, 
 Jacques felt as though he himself had suddenly grown 
 greater and stronger. His son ! During the whole of 
 his ride this sweet name was on his lips and in his 
 heart. On his way back to Blonay, he looked at the 
 old chateau and could not help smiling as he thought 
 of the contrast between this huge nest of granite and 
 the tiny child that had just been born in it. As he 
 passed through the village, he guessed that the happy 
 event was known there. The people came out to their 
 doors to salute him. The women smiled with a know- 
 ing air, and these mute congratulations touched him 
 deeply. 
 
 In order to lessen her own responsibility and also 
 thinking that Annie would be glad to have a relative 
 and countrywoman of her own with her, Madame 
 d'Anguilhon had asked Madame de Keradieu to 
 come to Blonay during her daughter-in-law's con- 
 finement, and very grateful Annie was to her for 
 this idea. 
 
 The young mother wished to nurse her baby herself, 
 and when she told her husband this he was very agree- 
 ably surprised. He would never have dared to suggest
 
 AMERICAN NOBILITY 291 
 
 it to her and he even felt it his duty to point out to 
 her all the sacrifices it would entail. 
 
 " I know," she replied, " but the doctor says that I 
 am exceptionally healthy, and it seems to me that I 
 ought to do my utmost to transmit this healthiness to 
 our famous young offspring. Then, too, Mother nursed 
 me, so that I feel in a way obliged to do for my child 
 what she did for me. You see," she added, smiling, 
 " we Americans do not go about trying to create duties 
 for ourselves, but we do perform those that are put 
 upon us." 
 
 As a result of this decision, instead of the regular 
 be-ribboned wet-nurse, the child had an English nurse. 
 Catherine regretted, in the most comic and touching 
 way, that she could not be in two places at one time, 
 as she would so much like to have brought up " Miss 
 Annie's " baby herself. In the faithful old servant's 
 heart, and indeed frequently to the young Mar- 
 chioness' face, Annie was still " Miss Annie." 
 
 The convalescence was always a delightful memory 
 to the young mother, for Jacques was most charmingly 
 thoughtful and attentive. As she lay on her sofa, they 
 all came and talked to her. Subjects of all kinds were 
 freely discussed, religion, politics, and social questions, 
 so that she learned more about France and French 
 things than during her two seasons in society. With 
 her modern and independent spirit, the opinions she 
 expressed sometimes had the effect of bombs on her 
 audience. Madame d'Anguilhon would throw her head 
 back with the haughty gesture peculiar to her, Madame 
 de Keradieu would look down, and the poor priest was 
 all at sea, whilst Jacques and Henri de Keradieu smiled 
 under their moustaches. One day, the conversation 
 had turned on the intolerance of the Government and
 
 292 AMERICAN NOBILITY 
 
 Monsieur Nambride told of the brutal way in which 
 a certain priest and a functionary had been dismissed 
 from office, because they were accused of reactionary 
 principles. 
 
 " Such things would not happen in America, I feel 
 sure," said Madame de Keradieu. 
 
 " No," answered Annie ; " in the first place, because 
 no one would think of trying to go against the Republic, 
 and secondly, because the churches are absolutely inde- 
 pendent of the State. With us, those who want a 
 church pay the expenses of it. Candidly, though, when 
 a priest or a functionary is in the pay of a republican 
 government, he cannot speak against it and he cannot 
 work for the Royalists then. It is simply dishonest." 
 
 " You know," said Jacques to Monsieur Nambride, 
 " my wife is republican at heart." 
 
 " It certainly seems to me more natural that the 
 sovereignty should be in the hands of the mass than 
 in the hands of one family," said Annie, boldly. " A 
 nation that respects itself could only have one repre- 
 sentative. I should like that representative chosen 
 among a hundred thousand, to be perfect, physically 
 and morally " 
 
 " And good-looking," put in Monsieur de Keradieu, 
 slily. 
 
 " And good-looking," repeated Annie, " and that he 
 should have all the prestige possible. For us, a nation 
 of workers, the representation of the White House is, 
 perhaps, sufficient; but, really, that of the Champs 
 Elyse"es seems inadequate. In France, the nobles 
 ought to have rallied. Under their influence, the 
 Republic would have been most elegant and refined 
 and more powerful than any monarchy." 
 
 " But, my dear child," observed the Marchioness,
 
 AMERICAN NOBILITY 293 
 
 " the nobility has its traditions. It could not desert 
 the family to which its ancestors had sworn allegiance. 
 That would be treason." 
 
 " No, for the country must be considered first. Then, 
 too, that family ought to have given an example of 
 evolution and been ready to sacrifice private ambition 
 to the welfare of France." 
 
 " You ask too much, my dear girl," said the Marquis. 
 " If only there were a little tolerance, though, on both 
 sides." 
 
 " Well, then," said Annie, slily, " I would advise you 
 to make a beginning. As far as I am concerned, I 
 intend sending a superb box of sweetmeats, when Baby 
 is christened, to the Mayor's wife. You ought to hand 
 over to the Mayor a sum of money for the poor, or 
 for some scheme for the public good." 
 
 " That certainly is an idea. What do you think of 
 it?" asked Jacques, turning to the priest. 
 
 " A very good idea, I fancy. It would make Mon- 
 sieur Finet have some consideration for you, and for 
 me, too, into the bargain. By the way, he has just 
 bought a house looking on the Square and he would 
 very much like to have a new fountain there. Suppose 
 you gave him the money for building one." 
 
 " Good, he shall have the fountain." 
 
 Then, laying his hand on his wife's shoulder, Jacques 
 added : 
 
 " Do not make us evolve too quickly, though." 
 
 Madame d'Anguilhon had asked Monsieur and 
 Madame de Keradieu to act as sponsors for her little 
 grandson. She wanted him to have a young god- 
 mother, so that she might act as his friend and adviser 
 later on. 
 
 On the fifteenth of September, Philippe-Henri-Anne
 
 294 AMERICAN NOBILITY 
 
 d'Anguilhon was baptised in the chapel of the chateau. 
 After the ceremony, Annie handed to Monsieur Nam- 
 bride an envelope " from Baby." It contained a deed 
 of gift of a piece of land, and the receipt of money 
 deposited at the bank, for building an agricultural 
 orphanage. 
 
 " My dream, why, it is my dream," faltered the priest, 
 moved to tears. " It is as though God had sent a little 
 child here purposely to give me the means of realising 
 it. It is absolutely miraculous." 
 
 When the young Marchioness passed through the 
 little town with her son, the people gave her almost 
 an ovation. As the carriage approached, they came 
 out of their houses to salute her. The boxes of sweet- 
 meats distributed to the children had won all hearts 
 even more than her generous gift. She knew that the 
 ice was now broken between the Blonay people and 
 herself and she was quite touched by their cordiality. 
 Ashamed of the tears in her eyes, she said to her 
 husband, almost with a touch of vexation : 
 
 " Jacques, I believe that the French climate acts 
 on my nerves horribly. I shall end by getting 
 sentimental." 
 
 " Oh, that would be a great pity ! " answered the 
 Marquis, in a jesting tone. " Do not be afraid, though. 
 We will go to America now and then, so that you may 
 pick up again."
 
 CHAPTER X 
 
 THE Duchess de Blanzac had accepted the An- 
 guilhons' invitation for the first of October. She said 
 to herself, though, that she would not go to Blonay, 
 but would find some pretext for drawing out of the 
 engagement. She had said this to herself, by way of 
 easing her conscience, but she knew very well that she 
 would do nothing of the kind. 
 
 On the day fixed, therefore, she arrived at Moulins 
 station. The Marquis was there to meet her, as a 
 matter of course. They clasped hands warmly, and, 
 with voices full of feeling, exchanged the usual com- 
 monplace greetings. Jacques had come in a phaeton, 
 as it was a beautiful, warm morning. 
 
 As soon as the Duchess was installed at his side 
 and the horses had started in the direction of Blonay, 
 he turned toward her. 
 
 " You are here, at last ! " he said, his whole face 
 radiant with joy. " Up to yesterday evening I was 
 dreading a telegram announcing that you were obliged 
 to postpone your visit." 
 
 " Why were you expecting that?" 
 
 " I have no idea. But now just own that you were 
 tempted to disappoint us." 
 
 " Tempted, no It is true, though, that I thought 
 several times, of going back to Blanzac to superintend 
 the restoration of the old chapel." 
 
 295
 
 296 AMERICAN NOBILITY 
 
 " There, I was sure of it ! I felt it." 
 
 " How odd ! " exclaimed Christiane, amazed and 
 rather disturbed in her mind at this intuition. 
 
 " You know I always have presentiments. I was so 
 tormented by the idea that you would not come, and 
 that you did not want to come, that I was half-in- 
 clined to go to Petit-Port to fetch you. As you are 
 really here, I will forgive you the bad moment I have 
 had on your account. Eeally, we should have been 
 horribly disappointed if you had not come." 
 
 " I should have to be much wiser than I am to 
 refuse myself the pleasure of coming to Blonay," 
 said Christiane, in a tone of mingled sadness and 
 bitterness. 
 
 Then, as if she wanted to escape from Jacques, she 
 began to talk of current topics, of the Deauville races, 
 and she also gave him some scraps of gossip. The 
 conversation was in such direct contrast to their state 
 of mind that they could not keep it up very long, and 
 there was soon silence between them. 
 
 Christiane had thrown back her veil. She was look- 
 ing straight before her, but she felt that Jacques was 
 admiring her, and the pleasure of this brought the 
 colour into her cheeks and made her nostrils dilate 
 with pride. The purity of the atmosphere, the beauty 
 of the sky and valley, the speed at which they were 
 driving, accompanied by the rhythmic sound of the 
 thoroughbreds' tread, all this, together with the pre- 
 sence of the man she loved, gave the Duchess a deli- 
 cious sense of well-being, a kind of intoxication. She 
 would have liked to go on thus to the end of the world 
 to death even. 
 
 " Here we are at Blonay ! " exclaimed the Marquis, 
 suddenly.
 
 AMERICAN NOBILITY 297 
 
 These words made Christiane start, and the sight of 
 the American flag gave her a pang at her heart. 
 
 " Superb ! " she said, gazing with admiration at the 
 chateau, the massive structure and beautiful outlines 
 of which stood out clearly against the horizon. 
 
 " And do you mean to say that a bourgeois had dared 
 to buy that ? " 
 
 " Alas, yes." 
 
 " Ah, I can understand now the grief you must have 
 felt wtien such a home was sold." 
 
 " Grief ! " repeated Jacques. " It was simply heart- 
 rending, and the agony of it has left a sort of scar 
 within me. When I saw Blonay once more, I opened 
 my arms to it, like a child, and I kissed its old stones." 
 
 " I understand perfectly," murmured the Duchess. 
 " All is well, though, that ends well," she added. " It 
 seems that novelists have a special liking for some of 
 their characters and they let them suffer as little as 
 possible and do not kill them if they can help it. 
 Providence seems to have a special tenderness for you, 
 in the same way. Not only you were not allowed to 
 go and die in Africa, but more has been given back 
 to you than was taken away." 
 
 "Yes, that is true, and I am deeply grateful to 
 Providence. Look, I cannot imagine anything more 
 striking than the sight of the American flag on this 
 castle, the foundations of which date back to feudal 
 times. It surprises me to see it there every time I 
 look at it. Just think what a wonderful chain of 
 circumstances it needed, in order to bring it there. 
 We do not study the history of things enough; it is 
 quite as curious as the history of people. That flag 
 marks, perhaps, the beginning of an evolution. I had 
 it placed beside ours for the sake of pleasing Annie.
 
 298 AMERICAN NOBILITY 
 
 Then, too, I certainly owed it to America," added the 
 Marquis, with the little ironical smile he always had 
 when he made any allusion to his marriage. 
 
 Christiane did not make any reply. A few minutes 
 later, the phaeton drove through the courtyard and 
 round the drive to the stone steps of the house. The 
 dowager Marchioness, Annie, Count and Countess de 
 Froissy and several other persons were there awaiting 
 them. 
 
 The Duchess was greeted with cheers. 
 
 " How do you do, little Mamma ? " she asked, kissing 
 Annie. 
 
 " I am so glad to see you again," replied her hostess, 
 with an accent of sincerity that touched Madame de 
 Blanzac. 
 
 When all the greetings were over, Annie took her 
 guest away to show her the rooms she had arranged 
 for her with special care. 
 
 " And now, you must show me your son and heir," 
 said Christiane, taking off her hat and coat. 
 
 "Now, at once?" 
 
 " Now, at once." 
 
 Annie rang and asked for the baby to be brought in. 
 
 " It is fortunate that your first child should be a 
 son." 
 
 "Oh, if I had had a daughter, I should never have 
 dared to show my face again," answered the young 
 mother. 
 
 The English nurse arrived, carrying a little bundle 
 of muslin, lace, and ribbons, from which a tiny fluffy 
 head emerged. 
 
 " Here is my little masterpiece," said Annie, placing 
 the sleeping baby on the Duchess's lap. 
 
 Christiane was deeply affected by the sight of
 
 AMERICAN NOBILITY 299 
 
 Jacques' child. She put her arm round it, in a timid, 
 awkward way and then, with her eyes dim with tears, 
 she kissed the soft, fair hair, the eyelids fringed with 
 dark lashes and the little, fresh mouth, with lingering 
 kisses. 
 
 " He is very beautiful," she said, in an unsteady 
 voice. 
 
 " Yes, is he not ? He does me credit, for I am 
 nursing him." 
 
 These words caused the Duchess sudden joy, and the 
 shame she felt at herself made the colour come into 
 her face. 
 
 " And your husband allows you to nurse him? " 
 
 "Allows me? Why, he was very glad indeed. He 
 thanks me again and again, every day. He declares 
 that he kisses his child with all the more pleasure, 
 because he knows that only he and I in fact, a 
 lot of French nonsense," said Annie breaking off and 
 colouring slightly. " He did not ask me to nurse 
 Baby. I wanted to myself. The little rogue deprives 
 me of all kinds of pleasure, but I shall never regret it." 
 
 Madame de Blanzac kissed the child again, with a 
 lingering caress. 
 
 " He smells so good." 
 
 " I should think so; his clothes are all scented with 
 Iris de Florence." 
 
 " No, I do not mean that, he is all milk and honey," 
 explained the Duchess, sniffing the child as though he 
 were a flower. 
 
 "That is just what Jacques says. What a lot of 
 imagination you all have!" added Annie, rather 
 jeeringly. 
 
 She then took the baby up again gently and sent him 
 awav with his nurse.
 
 300 AMERICAN NOBILITY 
 
 " I hope I do not look too much like a nurse," she 
 said. 
 
 "Like a nurse? You look much younger than last 
 year." 
 
 " So much the better." 
 
 Tea was then brought for the Duchess, and Annie 
 poured it for her. They talked about all that had 
 happened since they had last met. 
 
 "And so you like Blonay?" asked Christiane. 
 
 " I love it. It is a dear old place. I felt at home 
 here from the very day I arrived. Neither its size nor 
 its severe style alarmed me. It was rather strange, 
 for I had never seen a chateau before. There is one 
 thing that seems terribly difficult, though, and that is 
 my r61e of lady of the manor. I do not know how I 
 shall get on. I am determined to do my best, though. 
 The house is not quite finished yet, so you must make 
 allowances. We shall have several of your friends; 
 the Keradieus are coming back, and Monsieur de Nozay 
 and Monsieur de Challans are to be here to-morrow." 
 
 " I am glad you have invited Louis. It will make 
 up to him for not going to Deauville this summer." 
 
 Annie rose. 
 
 " I hope you will not be bored," she said smiling, 
 " and that you will like Blonay. I am going to leave 
 you now, as you must want to rest. You have two 
 good hours before luncheon, which will be at half-past 
 one. Au revoir."
 
 CHAPTER XI 
 
 THE invitations to Blonay, this year, were neces- 
 sarily limited in number. The Marquis had en- 
 deavoured to make up by the quality of his guests. 
 In order to have a right proportion of youth, gaiety, 
 and intelligence, he had weighed things over, and tried 
 to have congenial spirits. He had discussed the vari- 
 ous pros and cons of suggested visitors. Annie, who 
 was present during this little work of selection, ex- 
 claimed, in a tone of distress : " How complicated 
 everything is in Europe and how particular you are ! " 
 Jacques wanted this first assembly of guests, destined 
 to arouse the echoes of Blonay, to be both a friendly 
 and brilliant one. He had invited his nearest relatives 
 and his most faithful and agreeable friends. It seemed 
 as though the old chateau had been aroused by a 
 magician's wand, for it now teemed with life, from 
 base to summit. Up and down the main staircase, out 
 on the terraces, and in the avenues of the park, women's 
 graceful figures were to be seen. In the wide court- 
 yard, there were joyful departures for the chase and 
 triumphal returns, whilst, in the evenings, music, 
 dance tunes, beautiful voices, and gay conversation 
 filled the old house with harmony and gaiety. 
 
 Annie had never confessed to any one, not even to 
 her husband, how much she had dreaded her duties as 
 hostess. The idea of having to receive people she did 
 
 301
 
 302 AMERICAN NOBILITY 
 
 not know well, foreigners, too, who would criticise her 
 American ways, had made her feel very nervous. If 
 she should not succeed in making things go and theiv 
 guests should find Blonay dull, then Jacques would 
 be vexed and disappointed. It was this that she really 
 feared more than anything else. 
 
 After the first five or six days, she was able to 
 breathe freely again. Her guests were all thoroughly 
 enjoying themselves; there was no doubt about that. 
 The expression on the Duchess's face quite satisfied 
 Annie on that score, for she had never seen her look 
 so animated and she had never seen her so brilliant. 
 She did not notice how feverish and fitful her friend's 
 gaiety was, and she took for a sign of enjoyment that 
 radiance which love diffuses over the human face. 
 
 When Christiane had met the Marquis again after 
 a separation of four months, she had felt, intuitively, 
 that he was restored to her. She had had the impres- 
 sion of a barrier having given way, of a union rather 
 than a reunion. She did not seek to know by what 
 charm, or by what miracle, communication had once 
 more been set up between them. All that she knew 
 was that she was thoroughly happy. The presence of 
 Jacques created for her an atmosphere of Paradise, 
 and the certainty of having reconquered him put an 
 expression of triumphant joy into her eyes. 
 
 From the time that he was once settled at Blonay, 
 Jacques d'Anguilhon had begun to think of the 
 Duchess's approaching visit. He was impatient to show 
 her his home, the home which revealed so glorious a 
 past, and he rejoiced at the thought of doing the 
 honours of it. His wish to see her again was in- 
 creased by a touch of vanity rather than anything 
 else, Then, Annie, who had kept up a regular corre-
 
 AMERICAN NOBILITY 303 
 
 spondence with Christiane, unfortunately gave him her 
 letters to read. He took them to his own rooms and 
 they produced a strange effect on his imagination. 
 Their brilliant and original style, their subtle perfume, 
 the large, elegant, and irregular handwriting and, per- 
 haps, the transmission of one of those still unknown 
 fluids, which are the secret agents of Providence, made 
 the image of the Duchess stand out clearly in his mind. 
 He saw the beautiful outline of her figure, her large 
 blue eyes, the deeply-marked corners of her mouth, and 
 all the characteristic traits that he admired so much. 
 This vision of her disturbed his mind greatly and a 
 more ardent wish to see her again took possession of 
 him. He felt, all at once, that he had a hundred things 
 to tell her, she attracted him irresistibly and, over 
 and over again, he was tempted to start off to Deau- 
 ville, where she then was. He was seized with the 
 idea that she might break her promise and, as he had 
 told her, he had an intuition of her reluctance. The 
 communication between them had certainly been re- 
 established. 
 
 She came and her presence was, for him, a source of 
 exquisite joy and emotion. He showed her all the 
 nooks and corners of Blonay. They strolled together 
 through the long galleries, stopping from time to time 
 in some window recess to admire the mountains of the 
 Puy-de-D6me, or a fine sunset. They looked through 
 curious books together and they turned over the 
 sketches and engravings in the portfolios. He told 
 her stories of his childhood and youth which he had 
 never thought of telling to his wife. There was a 
 fair share of vanity and frivolity in the composition 
 of this man and of this woman of the world, but they 
 both had a great deal of the inner life, too. They
 
 304 AMERICAN NOBILITY 
 
 frequently soared away to the unknown, reaching 
 rather dangerous heights sometimes and then, startled, 
 they would quickly return to earth and would take 
 refuge in the commonplace. These ascents, which al- 
 ways had a disturbing effect on them, had also a great 
 charm. In their frequent conversations, their thoughts 
 and ideas met and each one left, in the other one's 
 soul, some fragment of him or herself. Like all 
 mortals here below, they were working out their 
 destinies. 
 
 The Duchess was an intellectual woman of the sen- 
 sual type. With her, love mounted from the senses to 
 the heart. With women of another type, it descends 
 from the heart to the senses. She would never have 
 been able to love a man of an inferior race. Jacques 
 had the same qualities as the Duke de Blanzac and 
 he was, comparatively, a young man. Now that 
 Christiane saw him with this superb setting of Blonay 
 to show off his personality, and with all the authority 
 and prestige of a grand seigneur, he seemed to her a 
 veritable king among men, and his image took pos- 
 session of her, body and soul. She almost forgot that 
 he belonged to another. The difference of nationality 
 put so great a distance between the Marquis and his 
 wife, that she could not think of them as married. 
 She felt grateful to Annie for being so silent about 
 her happiness and for not showing her claims on her 
 husband. This made her own suffering more bearable, 
 so that the friendship she felt for Jacques' wife was 
 quite sincere. 
 
 Christiane quite realised the danger of the intimacy 
 which had sprung up between herself and the Marquis, 
 but she braved it and even delighted in it. Jacques 
 was unconscious of it. He felt so exceedingly happy
 
 AMERICAN NOBILITY 305 
 
 that, at times, he was alarmed and said to himself 
 that it could not possibly last. It was, of course, not 
 destined to last. When human happiness reaches a 
 certain point, it either vanishes suddenly, or com- 
 mences slowly to decrease. That of the Marquis 
 d'Anguilhon had reached this point. 
 
 One morning, just before luncheon, Jacques was 
 returning home with Henri de Keradieu. As they 
 turned the bend of the avenue and came within 
 view of the terrace, they saw Madame de Blan- 
 zac and the Count de Challans pacing up and 
 down it. 
 
 Baron de Keradieu stopped short and, looking at 
 them, said to Jacques : 
 
 " I fancy that will end by marriage." 
 
 These simple words, apparently so unimportant, were 
 destined to have enormous consequences. They seemed 
 to strike Jacques' heart and brain simultaneously. 
 
 " A marriage ! " he repeated, looking at the two 
 figures. " The Duchess and Challans ? Impossible ! " 
 
 "Why? She has been trying to play the sister to 
 that fine-looking fellow, and it is quite possible that 
 she has fallen in love with him." 
 
 " But she is five years older than he is. It would 
 be a ridiculous marriage ! " 
 
 " Oh, no ; Louis looks older than he is and he is 
 much more serious than people think, and absolutely 
 straightforward. As to her, she will always look the 
 age she wants to look. I assure you that if she should 
 tell me of her engagement, I should congratulate her 
 heartily." 
 
 " Well, I should not," said the Marquis, drily. 
 
 The two men continued their walk in silence. On 
 entering the hall, Jacques looked at his watch.
 
 306 AMERICAN NOBILITY 
 
 " We have still an hour before luncheon," he said. 
 " I must leave you, as I have some letters to write." 
 
 Under this pretext, he went up to his room. Feel- 
 ing the need of being quite alone with himself, he 
 turned the key of the door, instinctively, and then 
 began pacing up and down, as he always did when 
 under the influence of some mental agitation. The 
 idea of the Duchess caring for Louis de Challans, in 
 that way, was absurd, he said to himself. Why, he 
 was only thirteen years of age when she was eighteen. 
 She had known him from the time he wore his college 
 coat and cap, so that he would not have a shadow of 
 prestige for her. There was only one thing, though. 
 She had married a man much older than herself. It 
 was just possible now that she might be tempted by 
 the fact that Louis was young. She always was a 
 woman who went in for extremes. This marriage 
 would enable her to keep her title, her wealth, her 
 Blanzac kingdom as it were, and all the things that 
 were her pride and her very life. Yes, it was possible 
 and even probable. What was it to him after all? 
 She was quite free and it ought not to affect him at 
 all. And yet it did affect him and the idea of it was 
 atrociously painful to him. And as usually happens 
 jealousy caused the love within him to make itself 
 manifest. 
 
 Overcome by the shock of this discovery, he sank 
 down into an armchair, clenching its two arms nerv- 
 ously. Why, of course he loved her and he always had 
 loved her. In Jacques' suddenly-enlightened mind, a 
 development of pictures, recollections, and sensations 
 took place, similar to photographic development. 
 Christiane Soria appeared before him with her short 
 frock, her slender limbs, and her head always erect.
 
 AMERICAN NOBILITY 307 
 
 He remembered his delight in the old days when he 
 happened to meet her and she deigned to bow gra- 
 ciously. Then, too, how he had liked that dancing- 
 class to which she belonged! After all these long 
 years, he still felt the delightful sensation he had then 
 felt, when the girlish form he held drew itself up as 
 though to escape him. Curiously enough, he could see 
 again the thick plait of tawny hair hanging down her 
 back. He remembered how it ended in a frizzy tuft 
 which glinted prettily when it caught the light. That 
 plait used to fascinate him. It looked very heavy and 
 he had been curious to know its weight. One Sunday, 
 when the little girl was just in front of him in the 
 aisle at St. Clotilde's, he had not been able to resist 
 the temptation of touching the silky hair. He had 
 just lifted it, very lightly, with the tips of his fingers, 
 but not lightly enough for Christiane not to have felt 
 it. She had turned round quickly, like a little Fury, 
 and had given him a withering glance. Was he not, 
 even then, in love with her? Were not their destinies 
 already united? And then the indignation and anger 
 he had felt on her wedding-day, when he had seen her 
 coming down the nave of St. Clotilde's on the arm of 
 the Duke de Blanzac! Was not that jealousy? 
 
 All the women he had cared for since had reminded 
 him more or less of Christiane. He had always been 
 looking for her in the others. Jacques remembered 
 how much he had disliked asking the Duchess to 
 help him with his marriage. His marriage! At the 
 thought of this, he coloured violently, rose, and began 
 once more to pace up and down the room. Had he 
 not cared for Annie then? 
 
 " Yes," he said to himself, " he had cared for her, 
 very sincerely, but the feeling he had for her had not
 
 308 AMERICAN NOBILITY 
 
 been able to efface his first impressions and had not 
 prevented his love for the Duchess from developing 
 and making itself manifest. This then was what his 
 suffering was to be. This was the suffering by which 
 he was to pay for the fortune that had been restored 
 to him." 
 
 " If only Christiane would not marry again ! He 
 should never call her his and he would never breathe 
 a word of love to her. He would be heroic. But to 
 see her, a second time, come away from the altar on 
 another man's arm would be more than he could bear." 
 
 A ray of hope flashed through Jacques' mind. Henri 
 was perhaps mistaken. It was true that Louis de 
 Challans was frequently at Christiane's and that she 
 always invited him to Deauville and to Blanzac. She 
 was greatly interested in his future and showed a 
 marked liking for him. But then, he was her hus- 
 band's heir, the future head of the Blanzac family. 
 Was she not bound to watch over him and to help 
 him to prepare for the part he had to play in the 
 world? If she really cared for Louis, would Jacques 
 not have felt it instinctively? Would not Guy de 
 Nozay also have divined it? 
 
 " Ah, I was too happy ! " murmured the Marquis, 
 through his clenched teeth. " It could not last, of 
 course." 
 
 From that moment, Jacques had no more tran- 
 quillity. The delightful peacefulness he had been en- 
 joying for a whole year was over for ever. He eagerly 
 endeavoured to find out the truth about Christiane's 
 feelings for Louis de Challans. This was by no means 
 easy. It may have been that the Duchess de Blanzac 
 felt that Guy de Nozay's suspicions were aroused and 
 that she wanted to put him off the scent, or it may
 
 AMERICAN NOBILITY 309 
 
 have been that she was endeavouring to keep herself 
 from thinking so much about Jacques, but certain 
 it is that she was with Louis a great deal. He amused 
 and interested her, for he was really young at heart, 
 full of enthusiasm and illusions. Then, too, she was 
 not indifferent to the sincere admiration he had for 
 her. At times, her way of acting seemed quite to 
 justify Monsieur de Keradieu's surmises, and then 
 Jacques suffered cruelly. He was often tempted to 
 question Christiane, but he did not dare. At such 
 times, he would look at her with an expression in his 
 eyes that was most embarrassing for her. It was as 
 though he were trying to read the very depths of her 
 soul. When their eyes met they both experienced a 
 sort of shock, and it was only a wonder that they did 
 not betray themselves. 
 
 For some time, Christiane had felt that Jacques 
 loved her. The conviction of this gave her such hap- 
 piness that she desired nothing more. She was not 
 long in discovering that Jacques was conscious of his 
 love for her. At first, she was rather alarmed, but she 
 consoled herself with the thought that the marriage 
 she had helped him to make put such a barrier between 
 them that neither of them would think of breaking 
 through it. 
 
 The day before her departure, Madame de Blanzac 
 was coming down the main staircase, talking gaily to 
 the Viscount de Nozay. Suddenly she uttered a cry. 
 Through the open door of the hall, she had just caught 
 sight of two of the stable men, carrying the Marquis 
 stretched out on one of the garden seats. His eyes 
 were closed and he was pale, as though mortally 
 wounded. Christiane was at his side just as the men 
 were setting the chair down.
 
 310 AMERICAN NOBILITY 
 
 " An accident ? " asked Guy, in an agitated tone of 
 voice. 
 
 Jacques opened his eyes and tried to smile. 
 
 " A kick from a horse. I fancy my knee is broken." 
 
 " Are you suffering much? " asked the Duchess, with 
 a look full of sympathy and an intonation of infinite 
 tenderness. 
 
 " Atrociously." 
 
 A spasm of pain contorted his features as he spoke. 
 
 " Some brandy, quick ! " ordered the Viscount. 
 
 As soon as Jacques had revived a little after the 
 brandy, he said : 
 
 " My Mother and Annie should be told, so that they 
 may not be suddenly alarmed." 
 
 " I will tell them," said the Duchess, at once. 
 
 She went away, with a pang at her heart and her 
 limbs trembling, feeling herself the suffering of the 
 man she loved. 
 
 The doctor, who was fortunately at home, pro- 
 nounced that the knee was not fractured. He ordered 
 ice and bandaged it, gave an injection of morphia, and 
 left everyone very much comforted as to the con- 
 sequences of the accident. 
 
 As soon as she had recovered from her emotion, 
 Christiane was sure that she had betrayed herself. 
 At the bare idea that the Viscount de Nozay, and per- 
 haps Jacques, had guessed her secret, her face flushed 
 crimson. A moment later, she lifted her head again 
 proudly, for she felt capable of putting both Guy and 
 Jacques off the scent. 
 
 The patient suffered a great deal during the night. 
 He was very feverish, too, and even slightly delirious 
 at times. In his quiet moments, he recalled the 
 Duchess's cry and the look of anguish he had seen iii
 
 AMERICAN NOBILITY 311 
 
 her eyes. These things, registered as they were in his 
 brain and in his very soul, produced a joy which 
 dominated his physical pain. 
 
 The next day, he was carried into his study in order 
 to wish Christiane good-bye. She was in travelling 
 costume and quite ready to start. 
 
 " I frightened you," he said, looking at her eagerly 
 and endeavouring to find some sign of emotion on her 
 face. 
 
 "Frightened me?" she repeated. "I should just 
 think you did. If I had been a weak woman, I should 
 have fainted. Only imagine my fright, I thought you 
 were dead." 
 
 Then, all in the same breath, Christiane expressed 
 her regret at the accident, adding that she was glad 
 to see he was better before leaving. She went on to 
 say how much she had enjoyed her visit, and all this 
 in the most easy and natural way imaginable. 
 
 Guy de Nozay, who was present, could not help look- 
 ing at her with admiration. 
 
 " She is really very clever, very clever indeed," he 
 said to himself. " It is remarkably well acted." 
 
 When Jacques heard the sound of the carriage 
 wheels, which were taking the Duchess away, he put 
 his head back on the pillow and closed his eyes. 
 
 " How I love her ! " he murmured to himself. 
 
 The Marquis did not get up again as soon as was 
 expected. For about a fortnight he had to lie still, 
 and for the next three weeks he walked with difficulty. 
 
 Christiane's absence was a great trouble to him. 
 Involuntarily, when the door opened, he expected to 
 see her appear. The house with his wife, his mother, 
 and his friends, seemed empty, horribly empty. He 
 realised that poverty was not the worst kind of suffer-
 
 312 AMERICAN NOBILITY 
 
 ing. He had never believed this until now. In his 
 present state of mind, nothing could have been worse 
 for him than the inactivity to which he was doomed. 
 It gave him time and opportunity for long reveries 
 and for searching his memory for impressions that 
 were registered there. At times, a light burst forth 
 from among the treasures of his recollections, and the 
 light dazzled him. Madame de Blanzac loved him. 
 He would not have dared say so, in words, even to 
 himself, but he felt it. His heart, at such times, would 
 beat more quickly, and he would stretch out his arms, 
 instinctively, towards his vision and murmur, in a low 
 voice, Christiane's name. It gave him the most deli- 
 cious joy to utter that name now.
 
 CHAPTER XII 
 
 AFTER the Christmas festivities, the Marquis and 
 Marchioness left for Cannes. 
 
 The Duchess had asked them to stop at Blanzac for 
 a few days, on the way. Jacques declined, under the 
 pretext of the child. 
 
 Annie was delighted to be back again in the beautiful 
 Chateau de St. Michel, which had been the first halt- 
 ing-place of her wedding trip. It seemed droll to be 
 returning there with a baby. 
 
 The Marquis thought regretfully of the unmixed 
 happiness he had felt, only the year before, in this 
 place. The memories of the honeymoon and the sight 
 of his healthy and handsome little son drove the vision 
 of Christiane from his mind for a time, but it quickly 
 came back again, more clearly and more brilliant than 
 ever, effacing everything else. 
 
 The Marquis made very real efforts to kill this love, 
 which rendered him liable to commit some infamy. He 
 clung to Annie, trying by means of familiar conversa- 
 tions, and even by certain confidences, to get into 
 closer communion with her. This attempt had the 
 disastrous result of showing him how little his wife 
 and he really had in common. He was both surprised 
 and discouraged. 
 
 At his own request, Annie talked to him in English. 
 313
 
 314 AMERICAN NOBILITY 
 
 This seemed to give her a special charm and a certain 
 piquancy, but, on the other hand, it made her all 
 the more foreign to him. He was always thinking, 
 and frequently quite erroneously, that she did not 
 understand him and that she could not understand 
 him. The Marquis needed to be amused and inter- 
 ested. Annie chattered a great deal, but she could 
 not talk. She studied music and played correctly, but 
 her hard and brilliant execution gave Jacques no 
 pleasure. She had no idea of the art of making her- 
 self desired, of giving value to her caresses. Conjugal 
 flirtation, peculiar, perhaps, only to the Frenchwoman, 
 would have seemed ridiculous to her. For her own 
 dignity's sake, she would not have taken a single step 
 for the sake of keeping her husband faithful to her. 
 Faithfulness was a question of loyalty and honour, in 
 her opinion. She had married a gentleman and she 
 took it for granted that he was incapable of deceiving 
 her. Before her marriage, she had been more afraid 
 of this French inconstancy, with which people had 
 tried to terrify her, than of anything else. Now, curi- 
 ously enough, she no longer feared it. From time to 
 time, she had certainly had an intuition that she was 
 not enough for Jacques, but he had always been able 
 to reassure her. She had never been so tranquil and 
 so sure as now, when, through nursing her child, she 
 was doubly disarmed. 
 
 When a sick man knows the nature of the disease 
 from which he is suffering, he is, in spite of himself, 
 constantly thinking about it, and this very preoccupa- 
 tion aggravates the disease. Ever since Jacques had 
 realised that he loved Madame de Blanzac, he had not 
 been able to forget her for a single instant. This 
 constant thought increased his love for her and every
 
 AMERICAN NOBILITY 315 
 
 effort he made to drive her image from his heart only 
 fixed it more deeply there. 
 
 The Duchess usually spent February and March at 
 Cannes. She decided this year to go to Pau. The 
 Marquis thought he was sincerely dreading her arrival, 
 but he was intensely disappointed when she did not 
 come, although he tried to persuade himself that it 
 was all for the best. He wondered why she should 
 have gone to Pau, as he knew she detested the place. 
 The idea that she cared for him and that she wanted 
 to avoid him took possession of him. He remembered 
 her cry when she had thought him dead. It was not 
 a nervous woman's cry, but that of a woman who 
 sees a loved one suddenly taken away from her. Why 
 should she not love him, he asked himself. It was very 
 certain that he loved her. Excited with all these ideas, 
 he was seized with a wild desire to rush off to Pau and 
 to see Madame de Blanzac, without being seen himself ; 
 so that he might read her face. In the very midst of 
 the emotion caused by this idea, he realised the danger 
 of their love, if she really cared for him. He resolved 
 to put no obstacles whatever in the way of the visit 
 to America, and he even proposed to his wife that they 
 should start towards the end of April. Annie was de- 
 lighted, as she had been afraid that the child might 
 prevent the plan from being carried out. She wrote 
 at once to her mother and to Clara, announcing their 
 approaching departure, but Clara replied that she 
 should not believe it until she saw them land in 
 New York. 
 
 The Duchess did not stay long in the Pyrenees, and 
 on the eighth of March she was back in Paris. When 
 Jacques knew that she was in the Rue de Varenne, 
 he was seized with a sort of restlessness, vague at first,
 
 316 AMERICAN NOBILITY 
 
 but which became quite painful. At the hour when 
 he knew that her gates would be open for her daily 
 reception, he could not keep still and was like a captive 
 animal, fretted by his chain. 
 
 Madame de Blanzac wrote regularly to Annie. In 
 one of her letters, she told her that Louis de Challans 
 had been transferred to a regiment stationed at 
 Versailles. 
 
 " I am glad to have him near Paris," she added. 
 " Beside the fact that he is one of those on whom I 
 can absolutely rely, he is so delightfully young always." 
 
 This piece of news, together with the comment on 
 it, upset Jacques again. He said to himself that he 
 was a fool and an idiot, and that Henri de Keradieu 
 had more perspicacity. But the certainty that Chris- 
 tiane cared for him came back to him again and, in 
 the end, he concluded that she was going to marry 
 again in order to avoid and forget him. 
 
 " It is only women who have such abominable ideas ! " 
 he muttered, through his clenched teeth. " She will 
 forget me soon enough when she is in the arms of 
 this fine fellow of twenty-five, whom she thinks so 
 delightfully young," he added, in an angry, ironical 
 tone. Louis was just five years younger than he was, 
 and he was more jealous, at this moment, about the 
 five years than he would have been of any talent or 
 even genius. Physical jealousy, the most painful and 
 blind of all jealousies, made him forget Christiane's 
 refinement and her loftiness of soul. He was sup- 
 posing her capable of wanting to kill sentiment by 
 sensuality. 
 
 Jacques felt a desperate longing to know the truth. 
 He could not start for America with these doubts tor- 
 turing him. He would question the Duchess. He was
 
 AMERICAN NOBILITY 317 
 
 tempted to go to Paris by himself, but he felt the need 
 of the protection of his wife and child, and so decided 
 to take them with him. Under the pretext of having 
 some business affairs to arrange before leaving Europe, 
 he shortened the time fixed for their stay at the Chateau 
 de St. Michel.
 
 CHAPTER XIII 
 
 MADAME DB BLANZAC had been as much disturbed in 
 her mind lately as the Marquis d'Anguilhon. The 
 time was not far distant when their lives were to be 
 blended together, and they had already commenced to 
 feel, to suffer, and to live, in unison. Everything con- 
 tributed to bring them nearer to each other, even the 
 very things which seemed more likely to keep them 
 apart. Christiane haU gone away to escape the danger, 
 and now that she was back in Paris, she had to face 
 it. She had not expected to see the Anguilhons again 
 until the beginning of April. When Annie wrote to 
 her that they were returning to Paris, her intuition 
 told her that they were coming back because she was 
 there. As soon as Jacques arrived, she felt his pre- 
 sence through walls and space, and this presence acted 
 on her like magnetism. Her heart beat more quickly, 
 her face flushed with emotion, and a kind of inward 
 trepidation prevented her from reading or interesting 
 herself in anything. Towards two o'clock, she was 
 seized with a sudden, instinctive fear. She decided 
 that she would not see Jacques that day, and she said 
 to herself that she did not want to see him. She rang 
 the bell to give orders that she was not at home that 
 afternoon to visitors and, when the footman appeared, 
 she asked for a glass of water. 
 
 The Marquis, too, was under the influence of an 
 
 318
 
 AMERICAN NOBILITY 319 
 
 equally violent emotion. Now that he was actually 
 near Madame de Blanzac, he was afraid to question 
 her. He was greatly relieved to find that Annie had 
 invited the Keradieus to luncheon and to know that 
 this fact would necessarily delay his visit a little. The 
 presence of these friends did him good, as, in talking 
 with them, he was obliged to interest himself in other 
 subjects and, consequently, became a little more 
 calm. 
 
 During luncheon, Annie said that she had some 
 scruples about this journey to America, as she rather 
 feared it for the baby. 
 
 " If he were a little Yankee," she added, " I would 
 take him from one end of the world to the other, but 
 I do not know how this little Franco- American speci- 
 men of humanity will stand the change of climate. 
 I shall not start without the doctor's permission." 
 
 On hearing these words, Jacques felt something very 
 much like joy. 
 
 When the two men were alone in the library, the 
 Marquis asked Baron de Keradieu news of Louis de 
 Challans. 
 
 " He is very glad to have left La Fere, of course. 
 We dined together, last week, at Madame de Blanzac's." 
 
 " You still think he is going to marry her ? " 
 
 " I do, more than ever." 
 
 " Ah," said Jacques, his face hidden by the smoke 
 of his cigar. 
 
 It would have been too painful to continue talking 
 on that subject, so he said no more about it. Jacques 
 thought that by going late to call on the Duchess, he 
 would be more likely to find her alone. He was de- 
 termined to know the truth about Louis de Challans. 
 He promised himself, though, and mentally vowed,
 
 320 AMERICAN NOBILITY 
 
 that he would ask nothing else and that he would not 
 let her guess his own feelings. 
 
 When Jacques arrived at the Duchess de Blanzac's, 
 the gates were just being closed, so it was evident 
 that he was the last visitor. The footman on duty 
 in the hall showed him into the red drawing-room. 
 Christiane had already gone upstairs. 
 
 On finding himself once more in this room, which 
 he knew so well, he was moved as he had never been 
 before. Now that he was in love, his senses entered 
 into direct communion with all the things which be- 
 longed to Christiane and which seemed to contain 
 something of her. The faint perfume in the air was 
 delicious to him. He looked at the little sofa, on 
 which she always sat. The cushions had kept the 
 imprint of her shoulders and arms. There was the 
 little desk at which she sat when attending to her 
 social affairs, the old harpsichord on which she accom- 
 panied herself when she sang her exquisite little songs. 
 He had seen all these things hundreds of times, but 
 he now felt them, and they seemed sacred to him and 
 wonderful. This phenomenon, which was wholly sub- 
 jective, as it was produced by love and so not new 
 to him, surprised him as though he now experienced 
 it all for the first time. All at once he started. In 
 the mirror, above a side table placed in the corner, 
 to the right of the French windows, he had just 
 seen a little statue which appeared to have two 
 heads. 
 
 " What is it? " he exclaimed and, on going up to it, 
 he was struck by the strangeness of the work of art 
 he had before him. It was the statue of a woman, of 
 medium height, slenderly and delicately built. It was 
 not carved in marble, but modelled in flesh-coloured
 
 AMERICAN NOBILITY 321 
 
 wax. Standing in front of it, one saw a lovely, almost 
 childlike face, with a joyful, triumphant expression. 
 This face, though, was only a mask, which the woman 
 was holding up with her hand. It was cleverly draped 
 by a veil, behind which was the real face. The head 
 was thrown slightly back, the eyes were closed and 
 looked as though they were full of tears, the mouth 
 was rigid, with an expression of pain and sorrow. 
 The right hand was tightly clenched and was holding 
 the folds of the garment over the breast. The effect 
 was very striking. Below, on the rather high plinth, 
 was the word Addolorata, and, on the two sides, 
 Baudelaire's lines: 
 
 Demain } apres-demain,, et tou jours! comme nous! 
 Elle pleure, parce qu'elle a vecu 
 
 Et parce qu'elle vit; mais, ce qu'elle deplore 
 Surtout, ce qui la fait fremir jusqu'aux genoux, 
 
 C'est que demain, helas! il faudra vivre encore. 
 
 Jacques stooped to read the words and he read them 
 aloud. On lifting his head again, he saw the Duchess 
 before him, in the mirror. She looked taller and 
 thinner and strangely pale. As if hypnotised, with- 
 out moving a step towards her, he watched her come 
 forward, in the dignified way peculiar to her. He did 
 not turn until she was at his side. Then, their hands, 
 their eyes, and their very souls met, and, paralysed by 
 their emotion, they stood still for a few seconds, unable 
 to utter a word. 
 
 Christiane was the first to come to herself again. 
 The quivering of her lips died away in a smile. 
 
 "You were admiring my Addolorata?" she said. 
 
 " Yes, and it gave me a pang at my heart. That
 
 :52 AMERICAN NOBILITY 
 
 woman is suffering horribly. Whose is this master- 
 piece?" 
 
 " It is by Ringel." 
 
 " But the idea was yours, I am sure ? " 
 
 The Duchess changed colour and could not meet 
 Jacques' eyes. 
 
 " Oh, no," she replied, promptly. " About two years 
 ago, when I was crossing the Tuileries gardens, one 
 morning, I was suddenly brought to a standstill by 
 Christolphe's statue, The Mask. You have never no- 
 ticed it probably. It is a woman holding a mask, like 
 this one. Her head is thrown back and there is an 
 expression of such heart-rending grief on her face, that 
 I felt the deepest pity and affection for her. I should 
 have liked to take the statue away from that public 
 garden. It seemed to me that she must suffer from the 
 gaze of the crowd. I have been several times to look 
 at her again, for she fascinated me in the strangest 
 way. A few days after first noticing her you see how 
 things are linked together I was looking through 
 one of Baudelaire's books, and I came across some 
 lines which that same statue had inspired. The 
 poet's vision was more ideally beautiful than that 
 of the sculptor had been, and I was seized with 
 the wish to have the poet's vision. I went to Ringel, 
 for I fancied he would be able to reproduce it for 
 me better than any one else. In his works, there 
 is not only a seeking after beauty, but an endeavour 
 to interest the soul. We worked together at the 
 rough model and we both had the same idea: a 
 worldly Addolorata. We are quite satisfied with 
 our mask and I only wish that Baudelaire could have 
 seen it." 
 
 Jacques turned the statue sideways and stepped
 
 AMERICAN NOBILITY 323 
 
 back. An expression of surprise came over Ms 
 voice. 
 
 " She is like you," he said, in a low tone. 
 
 The Duchess was embarrassed and made an effort to 
 laugh. 
 
 " That is what Monsieur de Nozay says," she re- 
 marked. " You are the only ones to notice it." 
 
 " Because we have a more delicate perception, pro- 
 bably, than your ordinary friends." 
 
 " At any rate, if the resemblance does exist, which 
 I deny, it is quite accidental. I should not have 
 posed for a woman wearing a mask. To do so would 
 either be a piece of affectation or a confession, and I 
 am incapable of such bad taste." 
 
 " I know that very well. Then, too, the resemblance 
 is almost imperceptible. I fed it, rather than see it. 
 It is more in the general lines. If this woman could 
 walk, she would move as you do. She belongs to the 
 same type of woman as you." 
 
 The Marquis ran his fingers lightly over the wonder- 
 ful undulations of the Addolorata's body, as he said 
 this. 
 
 Christiane thrilled from head to foot, as though she 
 felt the touch herself. 
 
 " The statue is for my own private study, which is 
 just undergoing a few repairs and alterations. I am 
 glad you have seen it, though. Now, come and tell 
 me all the news," added the Duchess, in a firmer tone, 
 leading the way to the other end of the room. 
 
 She took her accustomed place on the sofa and 
 pointed to an armchair for the Marquis. 
 
 "How are Annie and Baby?" she asked. 
 
 Jacques did not hear. The sight of the woman wear- 
 ing a mask had disturbed his mind strangely. Not
 
 324 AMERICAN NOBILITY 
 
 only did he see the physical likeness, but, by a sudden 
 intuition, he had identified the statue with its original. 
 He was sure that she was wearing a mask and that 
 she had some secret, some hidden love in her life. 
 His jealousy revived and was urged on to try to lift 
 the veil he had intended to respect. The burning 
 question rose to his lips, but he was afraid, afraid 
 lest the Duchess, at his first word, should, in the firm, 
 haughty way he knew so well, put on an impassive 
 expression and conceal from him her soul. He little 
 knew how her heart was hungering for tenderness and 
 how she longed for a few words of love from his lips. 
 He hesitated to speak, and Christiane, troubled by his 
 silence, questioned him with a wavering look in her 
 eyes. 
 
 " Is it true," he asked her, in a changed voice, " that 
 you are thinking of marrying again and that you are 
 going to marry Challans?" 
 
 The astonishment that these words caused Madame 
 de Blanzac brought her to herself effectually. 
 
 " Who can have told you that ? " she asked. 
 
 "No matter who told me," answered the Marquis 
 brusquely. " Is it true? " 
 
 " True? No, a thousand times no! " 
 
 On hearing this emphatic denial, Jacques' face ex- 
 pressed such joy, that the Duchess was again confused. 
 
 " I like Louis very much indeed, as a friend," she 
 said, " and I think the liking is mutual. I should 
 never have imagined, though, that any one could have 
 mistaken our friendship for love. And you believed 
 in this ridiculous marriage? You? " 
 
 " Yes, because I know that the most improbable 
 things nearly always happen, and especially those that 
 one dreads most. I am glad that this is not true. It
 
 AMERICAN NOBILITY 325 
 
 seems to me that I have just roused after a night- 
 mare," continued Jacques, drawing in a long breath. 
 " I shall be able to go away in peace, now," he added. 
 
 " Go away ? Are you going away ? " 
 
 " Yes, to America, at the end of April. I have 
 promised Mrs. Villars to take Annie to see them all. 
 I must keep my promise." 
 
 The news of this trip to America, for which she 
 had not been prepared, made Christiane turn pale, and 
 a look of sorrow came into her eyes, betraying her a 
 second time. Jacques' heart beat fast, as in hours of 
 victory. In the midst of his exultation, he distinctly 
 heard the voice of his conscience bidding him stop. 
 How could he stop, though, when he felt that the 
 psychological moment had just come for the Duchess 
 and that he had her in his power! In order to stop 
 at such a moment, it would have needed virtue that 
 he did not possess and that none of the Anguilhon men 
 had ever possessed. He drew nearer to the Duchess 
 and, in a caressing voice, that seemed to penetrate her 
 and make her feel that she was wrapped from head 
 to foot in the magnetic fluid emanating from him, he 
 said in a very low tone: 
 
 " You do not ask me why I am glad that you are 
 free." 
 
 Christiane recoiled with an instinctive movement of 
 fear. 
 
 " Do not be afraid," said the Marquis, very gently. 
 
 " I am not afraid," answered Madame de Blanzac, 
 drawing herself up proudly. " Why should I be 
 afraid?" 
 
 " Because you know that I love you," answered the 
 Marquis. 
 
 And then, feeling that he would have to violate this
 
 326 AMERICAN NOBILITY 
 
 woman's heart, if he were to have her secret, he added 
 boldly : 
 
 " And because you know that you love me too." 
 
 The Duchess could not turn paler than she already 
 was, but her eyes flashed and her delicate nostrils 
 dilated with anger. She endeavoured to brave the 
 ardent gaze fixed on her. Her eyelids quivered; she 
 wanted to protest, but not a sound could she utter. 
 
 The Marquis took Christiane's hands and held them 
 in his, clasping his own over them. 
 
 " Deny it, if you can," he said, with that accent of 
 authority which always won for him what he wanted. 
 
 For a few seconds, Madame de Blanzac looked at 
 this man's face raised towards her own. The love 
 which emanated from it penetrated her through and 
 through and her resistance gave way entirely. 
 
 " I cannot," she answered. 
 
 She made this confession, with head erect, tears in 
 her eyes, and quivering lips, like a woman conquered 
 by the higher will incarnated in her own heart. The 
 Marquis bent and kissed the hands he held, gently and 
 almost humbly. 
 
 " My whole life for those words," he said, absolutely 
 forgetting his wife, his child, and all his other vows. 
 
 Then with that fine emotion caused by love in his 
 voice, which always touches a woman so deeply, he 
 told her that he had always loved her, that he had 
 never loved any one but her. He told her how this 
 love, which he had always had within him, had mani- 
 fested itself. He told her of his struggle, of his suf- 
 fering. He acknowledged himself vanquished and 
 happy to be vanquished. 
 
 " I was afraid that you were thinking of marrying 
 again for the sake of putting a second barrier between
 
 AMERICAN NOBILITY 327 
 
 us. I was afraid and you can never imagine how 
 afraid I was of losing you." 
 
 The Duchess drank in these words. The love which 
 she no longer tried to hide gave to her face a divine 
 light and gentleness. In his wildest dreams, Jacques 
 had never seen her so transfigured. 
 
 " And you thought me capable of marrying Louis, 
 or indeed any one, knowing that I loved you ? " said 
 Christiane, in a reproachful tone. " It would have 
 been an unworthy thing to do." 
 
 "How could I help it? Jealousy gives us frightful 
 hallucinations. Yes, it was mad, for we were made 
 for each other. God must have said, when he created 
 us : ' This man for this woman.' " 
 
 The Duchess's face darkened over. 
 
 " And then He separated us ! " she said with an 
 expression of intense bitterness. 
 
 " Because it requires obstacles, and even sorrow, for 
 producing really great love," answered the Marquis in 
 a grave voice, deeply moved. 
 
 " Oh, I wish I could believe that our destinies are 
 foreordained." 
 
 " Believe it, for it is the truth." 
 
 " I know, at least, that you came into my life with- 
 out my will having anything to do with it at all. You 
 were sent to me yes, sent. I took for friendship 
 what was love. I was blind, or rather blinded till the 
 day when you came to tell me of your engagement." 
 
 The Duchess's voice failed her, as she said this. 
 
 " And I never guessed anything of all this ! " ex- 
 claimed Jacques. " And I thought my perception so 
 keen. I put your nerves and your sudden coldness, at 
 times, to an instinct of coquetry. I must have made 
 you suffer horribly," he added, sorrowfully. " Forgive
 
 328 AMERICAN NOBILITY 
 
 ine my stupidity and my unconscious cruelty. I did 
 not know, I really did not know." 
 
 " Of course you did not know. I, too, was wearing 
 a mask," said the Duchess, glancing at the Addolorata. 
 " Oh, I fought hard against you and against myself. 
 You and I were as one then, so that it was a formidable 
 struggle for me. I had noticed Christolphe's statue a 
 week before you came to talk to me about your mar- 
 riage. The impression it had made on me was simply 
 the presentiment of my own lot." 
 
 " From henceforth, Christiane, your mask will hide 
 nothing but happiness," said Jacques, in a tender, 
 passionate tone. 
 
 The Duchess shook her head. 
 
 "Happiness?" she repeated. "All forbidden fruit 
 is poisonous. You know that as well as I do." 
 
 "What does that matter, as long as we die 
 together?" 
 
 " Ah, but that is just it. We shall not die together." 
 
 "You shall never suffer through me. I give you 
 my word for that." 
 
 " It will be through the force of things, the laws 
 that we violate." 
 
 "Well, then, knowing this, would you, even if you 
 could, give up loving me now?" asked the Marquis, 
 holding Christiane under the spell of his ardent 
 gaze. 
 
 " No, I would not," she answered. 
 
 Deeply affected, Jacques kissed the hands passion- 
 ately that were lying in his. 
 
 "And you are glad that I have dragged this secret 
 from you, the secret that was yours alone?" he 
 insisted. 
 
 " I am very glad."
 
 AMERICAN NOBILITY 329 
 
 " Ah, I shall never have the courage to go away 
 now," said Jacques. 
 
 Christiane's lips twitched with anguish. 
 
 " You must," she said. " Whatever may be the 
 distance between us now, we shall nevermore be 
 separated." 
 
 " But before going, my darling, I want to kneel at 
 your feet and assure you of my love and adoration. 
 Can I not come some day to your Villa de la Rosette, 
 where you are more really at home than here?" 
 
 The Duchess turned pale again and drew her hands 
 suddenly away. Like all women of pronounced indi- 
 viduality, she rebelled, instinctively, on feeling a man's 
 yoke on her neck. 
 
 " Let you come to La Rosette ? " she repeated, shud- 
 dering from head to foot. " Later on when I can 
 arrange it." 
 
 Then, seeing the sorrowful look on Jacques' face at 
 her somewhat haughty tone, she smiled gently. 
 
 " Do not be afraid," she said, in a tender voice. " I 
 shall never change. Be generous, though, and let me 
 have time to come to myself again. Now, go " 
 
 She rose somewhat unsteadily to her feet, as she 
 spoke. The Marquis had the greatest difficulty to 
 refrain from taking her in his arms, so beautiful did 
 she look to him in the intoxication of his passionate 
 love. The sound of footsteps and the entrance of the 
 footman, brought him to himself. Neither Jacques nor 
 the Duchess would have wished to exchange their first 
 kiss in this open drawing-room. 
 
 " I adore you," murmured the Marquis, as his leave- 
 taking. 
 
 " And I love you," answered Christiane, in the same 
 wav.
 
 330 AMERICAN NOBILITY 
 
 With these words, they separated, as closely and 
 absolutely united, as though they really belonged to 
 each other. 
 
 And so Annie was betrayed, as every Marchioness 
 d'Anguilhon had been.
 
 CHAPTER XIV 
 
 THE Duchess had kept La Rosette, the estate on the 
 Sevres road which her father had bought for her and 
 which had been her out-door nursery. She had not 
 only kept it, but she had enlarged and beautified it, 
 and she often said that it was the most precious to 
 her of all her possessions. 
 
 Her nurse, Toni, still lived in the comfortable cot- 
 tage, which served as the lodge. Christiane's foster- 
 brother, who was a well-educated and intelligent 
 farmer, cultivated the land and managed the estate, 
 which, in his hands, was doing very well. 
 
 The villa was entirely surrounded with flowers and 
 was separated from the road and from the farm by 
 a kind of English garden, the trees of which had been 
 so well chosen and so admirably planted that they 
 gave the illusion of a large park. By covering the 
 outer walls with ivy and climbing plants, and by 
 having some of the walls knocked down inside the 
 house, and the staircase altered, Madame de Blanzac 
 had taken away the commonplace look and made a 
 charming home for herself. 
 
 She went nearly every day to La Rosette. Some- 
 times she spent the whole morning there and only 
 returned to the Rue de Varenne for her reception. 
 Toni always prepared a dainty lunch for her and 
 waited at table herself. At times, Christiane felt the 
 
 331
 
 332 AMERICAN NOBILITY 
 
 need of these little motherly attentions. This woman, 
 who possessed so many things, and who wns sur- 
 rounded by friends and admirers, was very poor and 
 very solitary. She had neither husband, children, nor 
 near relatives. Her uncle and her nurse were all she 
 had to count on in the way of family affection. She 
 was fully conscious of her isolation and it grieved her. 
 In the spring, she often invited her most intimate 
 friends to her villa, but only her intimate friends. She 
 would not, upon any account, have indifferent people, 
 or those who were not congenial to her, in this retreat, 
 so full of her dearest memories. 
 
 It was here then that she was to know the joy of 
 love. By one of those ironies, so frequent in the his- 
 tory of people and nations, which prove the blind- 
 ness of mortals, Baron Soria, himself, had bought and 
 prepared the nest which was to shelter the guilty love 
 of his daughter the love that was to end in her death. 
 
 A week after the avowal that Jacques had wrung 
 from her, Christiane arrived at La Rosette, looking 
 very pale. She was very nervous and, evidently, under 
 the influence of some violent emotion. Toni went with 
 her to her room, as usual, to help her to change her 
 dress. Just as she was going away again, her mis- 
 tress, who was seated at her dressing-table, said to 
 her, in a dry, haughty tone, without looking at her: 
 
 " Toni, a friend of mine will be coming to see me 
 sometimes here. I do not wish his visits to be spoken 
 of. You understand?" 
 
 Toni understood so well, that she stood still, as 
 though petrified. Her eyes expressed her surprise and 
 grief, and a blush of shame came over her wrinkled 
 face. She went away slowly, without uttering a word. 
 The blush, which Christiane had seen in the glass, and
 
 AMERICAN NOBILITY 333 
 
 the distressed silence which followed, troubled her 
 much more than reproaches would have done. For 
 the first time in her life, she felt humiliated and low- 
 ered in her own esteem. It hurt her pride to take 
 Toni into her confidence about her liaison, but there 
 seemed to be no alternative. 
 
 And so the Duchess was giving to Jacques, not only 
 the magnificent gift of herself, but she was sacrificing 
 to him that untarnished reputation which had hitherto 
 been her force and her pride. No man is capable of 
 understanding what this sacrifice means to a woman 
 of high character. 
 
 The Marquis d'Anguilhon and Madame de Blanzac 
 had now been lovers for some time. They had known 
 the splendour of that love, the germ of which is so 
 deeply implanted in the human soul. The physical 
 and moral affinities, which existed between them, 
 united them as closely as possible and gave them 
 divine communion with each other. For months and 
 months, on separating, each was conscious of leaving 
 in the heart of the other a still more passionate love. 
 Earthly happiness can go no further than this. 
 
 Christiane's love was the most complete and intoxi- 
 cating delight that the Marquis had ever known. It 
 satisfied his mind and his senses. It was not only the 
 Duchess, in the perfect development of her beauty that 
 he possessed, but also the tawny-haired child, who had 
 awakened the man within him, the young bride, coming 
 down the nave of St. Clotilde's who had aroused his 
 desire, and the inaccessible woman, who had always 
 appeared to him on a pedestal. All these images, re- 
 peated over and over again in his brain, served to 
 increase his passion. The idea that Christiane had
 
 334 AMERICAN NOBILITY 
 
 given herself to him, Christiane, who was so stroug 
 and who had such marked individuality, touched him 
 deeply and, at the same time, made him exultant. A 
 woman is no weight on a man's arm, but she fre- 
 quently weighs heavily on his mind. All the women 
 Jacques had loved hitherto, had, at times bored him, 
 and he had felt suddenly nervous and wished he could 
 get away from them. He never wanted to leave Chris- 
 tiane. She held him under a spell, as it were, not by 
 using artifice, as she was too much in love herself for 
 that, but by her real fascination, the gift she had of 
 making herself liked, and of being interesting, a gift 
 she possessed in a supreme degree. 
 
 Any one who is really superior is never long pros- 
 trated either by grief or pleasure. On leaving Jacques' 
 arms, the Duchess's mind, endowed with great elasticity, 
 soon recovered itself and she quickly regained her own 
 personality. The Marquis was often perplexed by this 
 and sometimes wondered whether he had been dream- 
 ing, or whether Christiane really was his. The languor 
 of her eyes and the tender vibration of her voice soon 
 convinced him, though, that it was not all a dream. 
 He was intensely happy, but, except in the actual 
 presence of Christiane, his happiness caused him suf- 
 fering. In the midst of his delight, he felt the sting 
 of remorse. Annie, with all her pleasant ways and 
 her absolute confidence in him, was daily heaping coals 
 of fire upon his head. It was all in vain that he clun^ 
 to his theory of predestination and said to himself that 
 his union with Christiane had been as inevitable as 
 his union with Annie. He was ashamed of the part 
 he was playing and ashamed of himself. 
 
 Jacques' love had given to the Duchess a happim-sx 
 so new to her, and so intoxicating, that she had neither
 
 AMERICAN NOBILITY 335 
 
 felt regret, remorse, nor even jealousy. When she re- 
 turned to Paris, after one of his visits to her villa, she 
 would bury herself in the corner of her carriage and 
 close her eyes, in order to retain more clearly all the 
 impressions she had had, and these impressions pro- 
 duced an exultation that made her whole body feel 
 light and herself full of joy. The fragrance of the 
 flowers she always took back came up to her in whiffs 
 and gave her the sensation of a last, delicious caress. 
 She then met the Marquis out at receptions and balls, 
 or at the theatre. The glances, full of memories and 
 promises, that they exchanged, the furtive clasping of 
 hands, the long waltzes they danced together, and the 
 tender words murmured in a low voice increased her 
 happiness and her passionate love. She was so su- 
 premely happy that Annie's existence did not inter- 
 fere with her at all. The " Jacques " of whom the 
 young wife spoke, whom she called " my husband " 
 and whom she mixed up with all the prosaic details 
 of her household, seemed to Christiane quite a dif- 
 ferent man from the one she loved. Under the influ- 
 ence of this sentiment, which gave a fulness to her 
 life that she had never before experienced, her beauty 
 acquired a brilliancy which struck all her friends, and 
 a great gentleness came over her and within her. 
 There was less haughtiness now in her manner. She 
 was more affable, more kindly, and generous in the 
 extreme. Her generosity indeed developed into prod- 
 igality. She gave away, as though hoping that her 
 charity might cover her sin and obtain forgiveness for 
 her happiness. 
 
 Dr. Moreau understood, only too well, what actuated 
 her charity. He could have told the very day when 
 she had become the Marquis d'Anguilhon's mistress.
 
 330 AMERICAN NOBILITY 
 
 He saw that she was still under the influence of love's 
 intoxication; but he knew that the day would arrive 
 when she would come to herself once more and that 
 she would then suffer horribly. He often called to 
 see her, under one pretext or another. The Duchess 
 realised that he knew her secret. Just at first, his 
 perspicacity had irritated her, but finally it was a 
 sort of comfort to her to have this silent and discreet 
 confidant. When he left her, after shaking hands 
 affectionately, she always felt that she had in him 
 a friend on whom she could absolutely rely. 
 
 With the Duchess, this intoxication lasted a whole 
 year. She came to herself again gradually, but the 
 love remained, a deep, violent, and passionate love. 
 Christiane then began to suffer on account of various 
 things. In the first place, there were the family ties 
 which were such an obstacle between herself and 
 Jacques, then the fragility of the bond which united 
 them troubled her, and also their clandestine inter- 
 course. She was even seized with a wild desire to 
 become a mother. It was as though love had touched 
 every chord in her being. The sight of a baby would 
 bring tears to her eyes. She longed to have a son by 
 Jacques, and delighted in picturing the child much 
 more handsome than little Philippe. She dreamed of 
 him day and night and imagined she saw him alive 
 and smiling. She stretched out her arms to him and 
 her arms embraced nothing but emptiness. Many 
 women, and often the best ones, are doomed to embrace 
 nothing but chimeras. 
 
 When Christiane's hallucination was over, she would 
 blush and laugh, but with tears in her eyes. Every 
 separation now made her suffer keenly. When she 
 returned from her villa, the silence and loneliness of
 
 AMERICAN NOBILITY 337 
 
 her home in Paris made her shudder. She had to 
 make a great effort to discharge all the duties of her 
 every-day life, whilst thinking, all the time, of Jacques. 
 
 On leaving Madame de Blanzac and returning home, 
 the Marquis always found Annie, his child, and his 
 mother. It was a bright, cheerful home, warm with 
 affection. The tranquillity he found there was very 
 pleasant and soothed his nerves. It gave him the same 
 sensation as the little white roses, the " Bride's roses," 
 with which he used to cool his cheeks, as a child. Then 
 his business affairs, his club, and his horses took up 
 a great deal of his time and attention. Christiane was 
 his luxury and his passion, but she was not his whole 
 life. 
 
 Woman was created for man, and not man for 
 woman. This law, the cause of so many misunder- 
 standings and of so much suffering, had always been 
 comprehended by Christiane, and, before she had 
 loved, she had thought it just. At present, it caused 
 her great suffering, in spite of her reasoning and her 
 will-power. An incident occurred, which showed Chris- 
 tiane clearly the source of her suffering, and which 
 roused her effectually from the dream in which she 
 had been living. 
 
 The Anguilhons had been spending the summer at 
 Deauville. They had rented the same villa which Mrs. 
 Villars had taken, three years previously. Jacques 
 took a chill, while out shooting. He was extremely 
 feverish and, for forty-eight hours, the doctors feared 
 pneumonia. 
 
 Christiane then realised that the Marquis did not 
 belong to her and that she was completely outside his 
 life. He did not belong to her, and yet he was flesh 
 of her flesh and soul of her soul. Her feet were readv
 
 338 AMERICAN NOBILITY 
 
 to take her to his bedside and her hands could have 
 helped and soothed him, but she might not go to him. 
 Annie alone had that right. Christiane saw her bend- 
 ing over him, perhaps kissing him. This vision made 
 the most cruel and painful of all jealousies spring up 
 in her heart, the jealousy of the mistress in the pre- 
 sence of the wife. She could not bring herself to ask 
 Jacques' wife how he was ; she always asked his mother. 
 Her intense anxiety, and the constraint she was com- 
 pelled to put upon herself, made her so strange and so 
 unnatural, that Guy de Nozay, who was staying with 
 the Anguilhons, had no longer, to his great sorrow, a 
 doubt about her liaison with his friend. Several times, 
 with the most admirable presence of mind and the 
 most chivalrous devotion, he turned aside her im- 
 prudences and prevented her from betraying herself. 
 
 The day Jacques came downstairs for the first time, 
 the Duchess happened to be there. When he entered 
 the room, he looked first at her and was surprised to 
 see no joy written upon her face. He was struck by 
 the expression of deep suffering that he read there. 
 Feeling very uneasy about this, he contrived to be 
 alone with her for a few moments, and he then asked 
 her what was the matter. 
 
 Christiane looked at him with eyes full of sadness. 
 
 " How can you ask me what is the matter ? " she 
 said, in a broken voice. " Have you not been ill, and 
 I could not nurse you ? " 
 
 "Is that it?" said the Marquis, smiling, and his 
 whole face lighting up. " And so you would have liked 
 to nurse me? Oh, you were not intended for the ugly 
 things of life. A sick person is neither attractive nor 
 pleasant. I should have been very sorry for you to 
 have seen me when I was so feverish."
 
 AMERICAN NOBILITY 339 
 
 " You consider me then as a creature of luxury." 
 
 " Of great luxury, yes, and very, very precious," 
 replied Jacques, tenderly. 
 
 A few weeks before, these words would have flattered 
 her. After all the anguish she had been enduring, they 
 hurt her and seemed like an insult. Her pride pre- 
 vented her from showing what she felt and her intelli- 
 gence prevented her from continuing the subject. The 
 corners of her mouth, alone, indicated her disdain for 
 the inferiority of men in matters of sentiment. 
 
 From that moment, Christiane felt the effects of the 
 poison which, as she herself had said, is to be found 
 in all forbidden fruit. It gradually penetrated through 
 her flesh to her very soul, drove sleep away from her, 
 made her face turn pale constantly, and changed all 
 that was highest, and best in her nature. She could 
 no longer see Annie at the head of her own table with- 
 out suffering keenly. The sight of little Philippe be- 
 came dreadfully painful to her. The thought that all 
 the luxury, which was Jacques' delight, was due to his 
 wife, humiliated and irritated her. Curiosity seems to 
 have been added to jealousy for the sake of making 
 the latter even more cruel. Christiane felt a wild de- 
 sire to know on what terms the husband and wife 
 were and the precise character of their relations. She 
 questioned Annie as far as discretion would permit 
 and even went rather beyond its bounds. If her rival 
 had been French, she would have suffered still more. 
 Annie's love was as simple as it was deep, and its 
 utter absence of exultation reassured the Duchess. 
 She came to Annie in search of the solace she so sorely 
 needed, and she neither owed her any grudge nor hated 
 her personally. 
 
 Christiane loved and suffered with all the refinement
 
 340 AMERICAN NOBILITY 
 
 she had inherited from her mother and with all the 
 force that had come to her from her father. This 
 force, to which her fine impulses of generosity, her 
 enthusiasm, and her intellectual activity were due, gave 
 her also a violence of character, which education and 
 her own will had hitherto held in check. Her love 
 now increased this natural violence. Madame de 
 Blanzac was now, in truth, an Addolorata. The pity 
 she had felt on seeing Christolphe's statue was one of 
 those strange presentiments which pass through the 
 human soul, a presentiment like that of Mary Mag- 
 delene, when she bathed the feet of Jesus with her 
 tears and with perfumes, in preparation for his burial. 
 
 It was not only for the world that Christiane wore 
 a smiling mask, it was still more for Jacques. Out 
 of pride, she concealed her jealousy from him and, out 
 of delicacy, she was mute about her suffering. In his 
 presence, she was brilliant and gay, just as though she 
 had no cares and no regrets, as though she were fully 
 satisfied with the place she occupied in his life. She 
 gave him all the happiness he expected from her. It 
 was her glory to make him more happy than any other 
 woman had done. She succeeded in this, but she alone 
 knew at what cost. 
 
 In spite of all this, the Marquis felt, at times, an 
 intensity of passion in her that made him vaguely 
 uneasy. He recognised signs of frenzy in a woman, as 
 he did in a horse. He thought he saw these signs in 
 Christiane and he was alarmed. He consoled himself 
 with the thought that her lofty nature and her extreme 
 good sense were a safeguard for them both. 
 
 He had forgotten the red, plebeian blood that flowed 
 through the Duchess's veins, and he little thought, 
 unfortunately, how strong instinct still was within her.
 
 CHAPTER XV 
 
 THE liaison of the Marquis d'Anguilhon and the 
 Duchess de Blanzac had lasted two years, and Annie 
 had neither heard of it nor yet guessed the truth. She 
 had been brought up among straightforward people 
 and was, herself, too straightforward to imagine it 
 possible that she could be deceived within the second 
 year of her married life, and betrayed by a woman 
 whom she looked upon, after Madame de Keradieu, as 
 her best friend. The very odiousness of this treachery, 
 under the circumstances, would alone have served to 
 prevent her suspecting it. Thanks to her temperament, 
 Annie knew nothing of passion. She was merely a 
 loving wife; she was not a passionately loving 
 woman. She had not within herself the key to certain 
 things, and Jacques had taken care not to give it her. 
 When she was with her husband and the Duchess, she 
 chattered gaily, without seeing the appeal in their eyes 
 and without hearing the vibrations in their voices. 
 She did not feel that electricity which emanates from 
 love, and is, perhaps, love itself, the electricity which 
 affects everyone who possesses any impressionability. 
 
 She was not surprised that Jacques should enjoy 
 Madame de Blanzac's society, as she herself always 
 found fresh charm in it. She rather envied the power 
 Christiane had to interest and amuse him, but this 
 did not amount to jealousy. 
 
 341
 
 342 AMERICAN NOBILITY 
 
 For some mouths past, Annie had noticed a change 
 in the Duchess's manner to her. Christiane had fits of 
 coldness and a strange abruptness which frequently 
 surprised and hurt her and, as she was very sus- 
 ceptible, like most Americans, Madame de Blanzac 
 had often been obliged to exert all her charms to win 
 her pardon. If Annie had been accustomed to reflect- 
 ing, her impressions would have developed and would 
 have awakened her suspicions. Her physical activity, 
 though, prevented her from ruminating and her dis- 
 position, like that of a very healthy child, was more 
 given to driving away unpleasant things than to going 
 in search of them. 
 
 Nothing, therefore, had occurred so far to disturb 
 Annie's tranquillity. She had happiness enough, ap- 
 parently, to have contented ten women and yet, in the 
 depths of her heart, there was a sort of latent disap- 
 pointment. Two years in succession, she had been 
 obliged to give up her visit to America, the first time 
 on account of her child and then because of the serious 
 illness of her mother-in-law. If it had not been for 
 the Duchess, Jacques would, undoubtedly, have found 
 time and the opportunity to accompany his wife to 
 New York. He had not done so, and had arranged 
 matters in such a way that he could not have been 
 blamed for unwillingness. Mrs. Villars and Clara were 
 getting more and more impatient at the delay, and it 
 was to this cause that the Marchioness attributed the 
 annoyance she felt. She frequently recalled Clara's 
 words to her : " When you are married to a French- 
 man," her cousin had said, " you will find that you 
 are years away from America." 
 
 Fearing that his wife should treat him as an Ameri- 
 can, Jacques had established his independence from
 
 AMERICAN NOBILITY 348 
 
 the very beginning of their married life. Annie was 
 too proud to question him as to how he spent his time. 
 She knew nothing except what he chose to tell her, 
 and this spared the Marquis a great deal of untruth 
 and prevarication. 
 
 His liaison did not make any visible difference in 
 his behaviour towards his wife. He was most attentive 
 to her, and his courtesy always charmed her. Every 
 day, before dressing for dinner, he spent an hour with 
 her and their child. He played with little Philippe 
 and covered his fair curls and sweet little face with 
 such passionate kisses, that the mother's heart was 
 envious. He talked to Annie about their plans and 
 mutual interests. He always mingled a few affection- 
 ate words with what he said on these commonplace 
 subjects and, when his conscience was more than 
 usually burdened, he was more lavish with his caresses. 
 As soon as he left her, his wife became fully aware that 
 he had not really told her anything. She was tempted, 
 sometimes, to follow him and to reproach him with 
 this, but when she began to think things over she 
 did not see what complaint she could make. She felt 
 injured nevertheless. 
 
 The social world in which she now mixed had not 
 treated her, on the whole, as she had expected. Blonay 
 had taken its place again among the great chateaux 
 of France. Its hospitality was almost royal and 
 people considered it an honour to be invited and 
 were always pleased to return there. During the 
 season, in Paris, the young Marchioness was con- 
 stantly invited to balls, dinners, and receptions of 
 all kinds. She was received everywhere most kindly, 
 and people seemed to like her more and more. 
 She was very generally approved and people cousid-
 
 344 AMERICAN NOBILITY 
 
 ered that she did credit to the name and rank she 
 bore. In spite of this, though, she had not been ad- 
 mitted into any special set. She was invited to give 
 money to various charitable works, but she was only 
 admitted as an honorary member and not asked to 
 become a member of the Managing Committees. She 
 met with this exclusiveness on every side, an exclusive- 
 ness which is, as it were, occult, and which the 
 Faubourg St.-Germain knows how to wield in a way 
 that keeps people at a distance better than words or 
 deeds. 
 
 The French aristocracy, whatever may be said to the 
 contrary, is still an extremely rigid caste. It is 
 morally closed to foreigners, even when they have 
 entered it by marriage. They are distrusted and con- 
 versation is carried on in corners when they are pre- 
 sent. It is practically closed, too, to writers and 
 artists, under the pretext that their manners are not 
 always everything that could be desired, but, in reality 
 because another La Bruyere, or Beaumarchais would 
 not be welcome. The grande dame of the nineteenth 
 century will be missing in the human gallery, thanks 
 to a lack of documents. The Faubourg St.-Germain 
 has tired out the inquisitiveness of every one, even that 
 of journalists. The domestics are incorruptible, as 
 they are part of the family. Only God and the devil 
 know the virtue and vice behind its closed dtes. It 
 is quite certain that a very virtuous and : ery devout 
 set of people exists among this aristocracy, a set of 
 people extremely behind the times. There also exists 
 a very cynical, corrupt, and extremely modern set. 
 These two sets see, and visit, each other, constantly. 
 
 Thanks to the spirit of caste, and thanks to tradi- 
 tions common to them both and to good education, a
 
 AMERICAN NOBILITY 345 
 
 certain cohesion is maintained between them. Annie 
 was naturally puzzled amid such complex surround- 
 ings. She did not understand the great devotion of the 
 Mothers of the Church and she was amazed at the 
 proceedings of some of the society women. She had 
 great difficulty, therefore, in finding her level. Nothing 
 would have persuaded her to help forward a Franco- 
 American marriage. Influenced by unconscious re- 
 sentment, she had even endeavoured to warn some of 
 her countrywomen about certain interested designs. 
 They had answered her : " We know all about it. We 
 are not going to marry, but we let these people hope. 
 They invite us, introduce us, and make a great deal 
 of us and it is great fun." Annie had been disgusted 
 at this way of acting and had now taken refuge in 
 strict neutrality. 
 
 The American woman generally knows how to dis- 
 pense hospitality and the young Marchioness made her 
 home very pleasant for her husband and his friends. 
 There was a kind of informality, which is always 
 appreciated by bachelors, old and young. In a very 
 short time, Annie had formed a little circle of intimate 
 friends, composed of a few agreeable men and charming 
 women. Every week, like Madame de Keradieu, she 
 invited a chosen few of their friends to dinner. These 
 little dinners and the time spent at Blonay consoled 
 her for many other disappointments. 
 
 Blonay was a source of real satisfaction to her. She 
 felt herself some one there. Her mother-in-law and the 
 priest, with an intelligent comprehension of American 
 character, left her all the initiative. Under her gen- 
 erous impulsion, many transformations had taken 
 place. The schools were now enlarged and modern- 
 ised. The agricultural orphanage, little Philippe's
 
 346 AMERICAN NOBILITY 
 
 gift, was nearly ready and in the little town and the 
 surrounding villages, clean, white houses, with bright 
 window-panes, and flowers, were to be seen. The 
 Mayor was extremely republican in his ideas and an 
 anti-clericalist, and Annie had asked him to help her 
 in her improvement scheme, in order that he should 
 not hinder her. She had acted rather against Jacques' 
 wishes in this matter, but the result was satisfactory. 
 The Mayor had been flattered and had done all in his 
 power to further her plans. Annie had learned, too, 
 how to talk to the peasants and to the poor, so that 
 they no longer called her " the American lady," but 
 " our lady," and this gave her very real pleasure. The 
 good she was doing at Blonay, and her ever-increasing 
 popularity, made the place dearer to her, so that she 
 was always sorry to leave it. 
 
 There was something in the very air of Paris which 
 irritated her. It was as though she had been affected 
 there, more than anywhere else, by those sentiments 
 around her which threatened her happiness.
 
 CHAPTER XVI 
 
 IN the solemn town house of the Anguilhons, to 
 which her destiny had led her, Annie had arranged a 
 nook for herself, in accordance with her own taste and 
 education. This nook, which was her favourite retreat, 
 and in which she received her intimate friends, was a 
 drawing-room at the end of the suite of reception-rooms. 
 It opened into the garden and into a conservatory. 
 She had any number of pretty knick-knacks here, her 
 piano, the newspapers and reviews of her country, 
 beautiful flowers, and pictures by American artists 
 only: Walter Gay, Harrison, Sargent, and Stoddert. 
 She had transformed the conservatory into a charming 
 drawing-room with tall plants to hide the walls. It 
 was furnished with sofas, Louis XVI armchairs of 
 gilded cane, and half a dozen of the famous rocking- 
 chairs from New York, finished with pretty cushions 
 tied on with ribbon. One of these chairs was the 
 exclusive property of the Viscount de Nozay. The two 
 rooms were quite near to the billiard- and smoking- 
 rooms. One Thursday evening, after an informal 
 dinner, Annie and her guests were sitting here chat- 
 ting, before beginning to play poker. 
 
 The Prince de Nolles, happening to see Guy de 
 Maupassant's Notre Occur lying on a table, took it up 
 and began to look at it. 
 
 " Do you like French novels, Madame d' Anguilhon ? " 
 he asked. 
 
 347
 
 348 AMERICAN NOBILITY 
 
 " Candidly no," answered Annie. " I read them for 
 the sake of beiiig au courant and also for the sake of 
 the language. Half the time, though, I neither under- 
 stand the people nor the sentiments. Then, too, it 
 irritates me to see people always wanting the impos- 
 sible and contriving to make themselves unhappy. You 
 all seem to me like the child who cried for the moon 
 or the sun, I forget which." 
 
 " The moon, the moon," said Guy de Nozay, laughing. 
 
 " Well, we Americans only want things that are to 
 be found in this world." 
 
 " Yes, but the rarest, the most beautiful, and the 
 most costly," put in Monsieur de Keradieu. " You 
 want, for instance, a faithful husband, children who 
 grow up without any trouble, an absolutely comfort- 
 able home, finery, jewelry, amusement, travelling and 
 all the rest of it." 
 
 " Yes, but then, we are satisfied with that, and even 
 with much less than all that, I assure you. French- 
 women who live in the same place always, are bound 
 down by habit and all kinds of things. They only 
 travel up in the clouds and they dream of the newest 
 and most extraordinary kind of love and sigh for 
 heaven itself. If they would just do as we do, pack 
 their trunks and travel round a little on earth, they 
 would be quite astonished to find it so beautiful and 
 so interesting and they would be quite satisfied with 
 it. Why, life is not half long enough to see a quarter 
 of the fine things our planet contains." 
 
 Every one laughed at this tirade. 
 
 " What a little materialist you are ! " exclaimed 
 Monsieur de Keradieu. 
 
 " A regular lover of the earth," said the Viscount de 
 Nozay. " I am sure that America, which has already
 
 AMERICAN NOBILITY 349 
 
 taught us so many things, will teach us the art of 
 being happy here below." 
 
 " I should not be in the least astonished," put in 
 Jacques. As he was standing by the chimney-piece, 
 near Annie, he laid his hand on her head. 
 
 " There is much more wisdom than one would 
 imagine in these American brains," he said, jokingly. 
 
 At the sight of this little familiarity, the Duchess 
 drew herself up involuntarily and clenched the arms 
 of her chair, in order to restrain herself. Fortunately 
 she was sitting a little back and the lampshade threw 
 a shadow over her face, so that no one saw her move- 
 ment, nor yet the evil expression that came into her 
 eyes. 
 
 " We really do not feel those extraordinary senti- 
 ments described at such length in your books," con- 
 tinued Annie. " I have often wondered whether they 
 are really felt, or whether they are simply invented, 
 by way of producing a little effect in your literature. 
 At any rate, I fancy you are much more complex than 
 we are." 
 
 u We are old, alas," said the Prince de Nolles, " so 
 old, indeed, that many things seem to us to have 
 already been seen and felt. It is on this impression 
 that those people base their theory who believe that 
 we have lived several times in this world. In reality, 
 it is not we who have lived here, but those whom we 
 are continuing. You Americans are still young." 
 
 " Young ! " exclaimed Madame de Keradieu, " I do 
 not know why people always say that. We, too, were 
 existing, either in Holland, Scotland, England, France, 
 or Spain." 
 
 " Yes, but then you were transplanted on virgin soil," 
 answered the Prince. " Liberty, effort, and struggles
 
 350 AMERICAN NOBILITY 
 
 have confused or obliterated all traces of the old races. 
 You are essentially a new race and one that is still 
 in the period of activity." 
 
 " And what activity ! " said Monsieur de Keradieu. 
 " When I return to Europe, after a few months in the 
 United States, it always seems to me as though every- 
 thing were petrified. If immigration were not con- 
 stantly renewing the blood and the forces of the great 
 American body, it would simply be burnt out and 
 perish by the very feverishness of its ambition. The 
 field of labour is strewn with worn-out, exhausted men. 
 Their offspring lack sap, even in the second generation. 
 The strain which women endure, in order to vie with 
 each other in their amusements, has already begun to 
 take effect. Society women care less and less for 
 works of art and for the memories of the Old World. 
 They come to Europe now in search of fresh pleasure, 
 and they complain of everything and think there is 
 nothing good or beautiful outside their own country. 
 As soon as they are once back in America, though, they 
 find some fresh pretext for leaving their husbands and 
 their homes once more and starting again. Am I not 
 right, Antoinette ? " 
 
 " Alas, yes," answered Madame de Keradieu. 
 
 " And I maintain, too, that if Europe were not such 
 an excellent safety-valve, there would be more unhappy 
 husbands than there are in the United States. There 
 are a fair number of them at present. For some 
 little time, every man has seemed to be coveting his 
 neighbour's wife." 
 
 " Oh, you are abominable," said Annie, " a nice idea 
 you will give Jacques of America. Fortunately he will 
 soon be able to judge for himself." 
 
 "When are you taking him off?"
 
 AMERICAN NOBILITY 351 
 
 " On the first of July, if Heaven will only help me. 
 Our visit to America has been put off so many times, 
 that I scarcely dare believe we shall go even now. I 
 cannot see anything to prevent it though, now. We 
 shall not come back before October. I want my hus- 
 band to see America in its best season and that is, 
 certainly, the autumn." 
 
 Madame de Blanzac's face turned livid on hearing 
 these words. She tried to catch Jacques' eye, but he, 
 manlike, was looking another way. 
 
 " I am convinced that America will interest you," 
 said Monsieur de Keradieu to him. " You will see a 
 real republic, states organised on the famous principle 
 of 'one for all.' You will see a free country, where 
 the Arab can spread his ' prayer-carpet ' and the 
 Catholic build his cathedral without any interference, 
 and where private initiative is given free scope. It is 
 really worth the journey to see all that. Our European 
 liberty will seem meagre to you afterwards. It will 
 be like the Bartholdi statue, which looks gigantic in 
 Paris, whilst in the bay of New York it appears to 
 be of almost paltry dimensions." 
 
 " By the way," said the Count de Ressac, " I must 
 tell you that Monsieur and Madame de Rennes are 
 marrying again." 
 
 " Who is Madame de Rennes ? " asked Annie. 
 
 " A charming woman, whose husband, after a season 
 at Biarritz three years ago, went off with a certain 
 Mrs. Nelson, one of your countrywomen. He came to 
 Paris to try to obtain a divorce. His family and 
 friends intervened and gave him to understand that 
 his wife was inclined to forgive him. His uncle went 
 to see Mrs. Nelson and preached duty to her. She 
 consented to give up her lover. An interview was
 
 352 AMERICAN NOBILITY 
 
 arranged between the husband and wife. They 
 fell into each other's arras and the conclusion is 
 that they are to go to Italy on their second honey- 
 moon." 
 
 " Well, that is a thing, now, that no American woman 
 would agree to or would ever be able to understand," 
 said Annie. 
 
 " Madame de Rennes was very much in love with 
 her husband. It is more easy to forgive any one we 
 love." 
 
 " Is it possible to love without esteem and without 
 perfect trust?" 
 
 " Alas, yes," said the Viscount de Nozay, with a very 
 droll expression. "It is that which constitutes the 
 strength and the weakness of love." 
 
 " The strength and the weakness of love," repeated 
 Annie, knitting her eyebrows, in her effort to think. 
 " It is too subtle for me." 
 
 " Do you not admit," put in Monsieur de Nolles, 
 " that, in a city like Paris, men of leisure are exposed 
 to more temptations and to greater ones than 
 elsewhere?" 
 
 " Yes, but honour would not be honour if it cost 
 nothing." 
 
 "You are rather severe, Madame, but logical," re- 
 plied the Prince. 
 
 " There would be a fair number of homes broken 
 up and disunited families, if French women could not 
 forgive," said Monsieur de Ressac. 
 
 " Well, I think French women are wrong in that," 
 said Annie, in a decided tone. " They simply en- 
 courage unfaithfulness. With us, the men know that 
 if they are unfaithful to their wife, there is no pity 
 nor indulgence for them, either from her or from the
 
 AMERICAN NOBILITY 353 
 
 world at large. They think twice before sacrificing 
 their tranquillity and their position." 
 
 " Oh, there is no doubt about it," said Monsieur de 
 Keradieu, laughing. " American women are very clever. 
 They know how to educate their husbands." 
 
 " Ves, and they do not have much difficulty about 
 it either," said Annie, seriously. " We have a title of 
 nobility, of moral nobility, which cannot be inherited 
 and can only be obtained by merit. It is the title of 
 gentleman or lady, and it is only given to those who 
 respect themselves and others. We should no longer 
 consider the man a gentleman who had been unfaithful 
 to his wife, and the fear of this disgrace acts as a 
 powerful check. Those two words, gentleman and 
 lady, have done more towards civilising and moralising 
 our country than all the religions and all the 
 codes." 
 
 " What you say is perfectly true," said Monsieur de 
 Keradieu. " It is a pity that we have no equivalent for 
 gentleman and lady. Our words gentilhomme and 
 grande dame merely designate titled people." 
 
 " Well, you should get into the habit of extending 
 them to the people who have nobility of character and 
 sentiment, for that is the real nobility, after all," added 
 Annie, boldly. " That would help your evolution. 
 Why, even among the animals, especially dogs and 
 horses, there are some that look, and really are, gentle- 
 men. The little Jersey cows, so clean and delicately 
 formed, always seem to me like little ladies." 
 
 Every one laughed at this sally and at the serious- 
 ness with which she spoke. 
 
 " Oh, Annie, Annie, how American you are ! " said 
 Jacques. 
 
 " And I am proud of it." 
 23
 
 :',r,4 AMERICAN NOBILITY 
 
 " You are quite right," said the Prince de Nolles, 
 gravely. 
 
 " By the way, Ressac, you did not tell us what has 
 become of Mrs. Nelson?" asked Monsieur de Keradieu. 
 
 " For the time being, she is in a convent at St. Jean 
 de Luz." 
 
 " She is a Catholic, then? " 
 
 u Apparently. Her husband has married again and 
 has kept the two children with him. One cannot help 
 wondering what Rennes really ought to have done. 
 Ought he to have married Mrs. Nelson, whom his 
 desertion now leaves without protection, or ought he 
 to return to his wife, who has her family, her children, 
 and a position in the world ? " 
 
 " He ought to return to his wife, undoubtedly," said 
 Monsieur de Keradieu. " Individuals do not count 
 when it is a question of principle. Mrs. Nelson put 
 herself beyond the pale of the law. She is the one 
 who ought to be sacrificed." 
 
 " And I do not pity her at all," said Annie. " The 
 only thing I regret is that her accomplice should get 
 off so easily." 
 
 The young Marchioness had, as yet, no suspicion of 
 the truth, but for the last few months, whenever she 
 had heard of any husband's unfaithfulness, she had 
 felt a sort of suffering and irritation, as though she 
 herself were affected by it. On this particular even- 
 ing, it was as though some one had taken up the 
 cudgels for Annie, in order to punish those who were 
 deceiving her. The conversation had tortured Jacques 
 and had pierced Christiane's heart with cruel shafts. 
 Her pride had been ruthlessly trampled on. Guy de 
 Nozay, guessing what the Duchess must be undergoing, 
 had not dared to look at her. In order to put an end
 
 AMERICAN NOBILITY 355 
 
 to the conversation, he suggested that they should 
 begin playing poker. When they were all taking 
 their places at the card-table, Madame de Blanzac 
 said to Annie, in a voice as changed as was her 
 face: 
 
 " I am afraid I shall be obliged to leave you, for 
 I have such a terrible headache." 
 
 " Really? " said her hostess, anxiously. " Why, yes, 
 you are quite pale. I ought to have noticed instead 
 of chattering so much. Please forgive me. What can 
 I give you for it ? " 
 
 "Nothing, thanks. I only need rest. I shall be 
 right again to-morrow." 
 
 " I hope so, indeed. Jacques will take you home." 
 
 This was exactly what Christiane had wanted. She 
 could not have restrained the anger and grief much 
 longer which the announcement of this visit to America 
 had aroused within her. The Marquis and she left the 
 house together. 
 
 " I want to walk a little," she said, as soon as they 
 were out in the street. 
 
 It was half past ten and the Rue de Varenne was 
 absolutely deserted. Jacques took Christiane's arm 
 and pressed it against him. 
 
 " My darling," he murmured, gently. 
 
 The tenderness in his voice was lost on Madame de 
 Blanzac. She was too much irritated to be appeased 
 by that, at the present moment. 
 
 " And so you are going to America on the first of 
 July, and it is simply by chance that I hear of it," 
 she said, in a hard voice. 
 
 " I had heard nothing about it myself, yesterday," 
 he answered. " This morning, Annie received a letter 
 from her lawyer, who wishes to consult us about some
 
 35(5 AMERICAN NOBILITY 
 
 investments and sales of land. I told her we might 
 be able to start on the first of July and she is striking 
 the iron while it is hot. This visit has been on my 
 mind for a long time. It is as painful to me as it 
 is to you." 
 
 " Are you sure it is ? " asked Christiane, with sup- 
 pressed feeling. 
 
 " Sure? As sure as I am that I love you," answered 
 Jacques, passionately. " You do not doubt that and 
 you cannot doubt it. Thanks to a happy combination 
 of circumstances, I have been able to postpone this 
 visit which I promised to Mrs. Villars. I cannot put 
 it off, though, indefinitely. It would be put down to 
 deliberate intention on my part, and suspicion would 
 be aroused as to what was keeping me in Paris. I 
 must make the sacrifice, I feel that. You ought to 
 give me courage for it, Christiane, for you are not like 
 an ordinary woman." 
 
 " Poor women, who are not like the ordinary ones," 
 said the Duchess, with a forced laugh. " What heavy 
 burdens God and men put on their shoulders! I do 
 not think the moral force exists which can conquer 
 jealousy, and jealousy is to love what death is to life. 
 The more highly organised we are, the more subtle 
 and painful is this feeling. This evening, for instance, 
 when you laid your hand on Annie's head, I nearly 
 cried out " 
 
 The Marquis stopped short and looked at the 
 Duchess. Under the drawn hood of her cloak, he saw 
 her pale face with features drawn by passion, her 
 sombre, shining eyes, her quivering nostrils, and trem- 
 bling lips. This expression, which he had never before 
 seen, startled and alarmed him. 
 
 " Oh, Christiane," he said, " is it really you saying
 
 AMERICAN NOBILITY 357 
 
 that? What I give to Annie is very little in com- 
 parison with what I give to you." 
 
 "Very little? The love of a husband? You should 
 leave novelists to say that. Do you call it very little, 
 that sentiment which makes of two creatures one? 
 Why, the family and the whole of society is based on 
 it. What nonsense! Annie will always remain with 
 you; it is her right. As for me, I am destined to 
 disappear, like that poor Mrs. Nelson. You heard 
 what Monsieur de Keradieu said : l Individuals do 
 not count when it is a question of principle.' And he 
 is quite right, too. It must be like that. Laws will 
 not be changed for me. And then, too, you cannot 
 deny that Annie is very dear to you." 
 
 " No, I will not deny it," replied the Marquis, 
 bravely. " I should have grown to hate any woman, 
 who, because she had brought me money, proved to be 
 tyrannical or exacting. You know yourself, though, 
 how considerate and tactful Annie has always been. 
 You have frequently praised her to me. She is satis- 
 fied with everything, respects my liberty, and thinks 
 of nothing but making me happy. I should have to 
 be absolutely incapable of good feeling of any kind 
 if I did not care for her. This affection is of a totally 
 different essence from my love for you." 
 
 " What should you say if I were to go away with 
 an agreeable young husband and remain absent for 
 three or four months?" 
 
 " The probability is that I should not be able to 
 bear it," said Jacques, with a tender look. " I should 
 most likely follow you, at any cost. A man is always 
 less married, though, than a woman. He belongs to 
 himself much more Oh, my darling," added Jacques, 
 in the midst of his sentence, " try to forget certain
 
 P.. r >8 AMERICAN NOBILITY 
 
 things 5Hid to be above all petty jealousy. Your 
 nobility of character will make that possible for you, 
 even if it should not be easy." 
 
 "You are quite mistaken; I have neither any hero- 
 ism, nor yet any nobility of character," replied Madame 
 de Blanzac, sadly. " I knew that love outside our 
 social conventions must be painful, but I had never 
 imagined anything as cruel 
 
 Jacques pressed the arm lying on his arm. 
 
 "And what about our happiness? Had you imag- 
 ined that as great? " he asked, in a voice that brought 
 back to Christiane's mind the memory of the bliss they 
 had experienced. 
 
 " No," she answered, quietly. 
 
 " Well, everything has to be bought and paid for. 
 If you and I had been married for the last two years, 
 I should neither see you nor feel you as I do now." 
 
 " Because I should be a part of yourself." 
 
 " Yes, you would be my wife, but you would no 
 longer be the woman, the eternal woman that man 
 adores, the woman who is in his dreams quite as much 
 as in his life, who makes him feel his power and his 
 weakness. You would no longer be that, and it would 
 be a pity." 
 
 " And you intend staying in America until the end 
 of October?" asked Christiane, the torturing thought 
 of Jacques* absence taking possession of her again. 
 
 " No, I shall contrive to have some business which 
 will necessitate my returning in September and I shall 
 leave Annie with her mother, who will then bring her 
 back to Europe. Did you imagine that I could live 
 four months away from you? Then, too, between now 
 and the end of June, so many things may happen. 
 You know how dearly I love you, how close and how
 
 AMERICAN NOBILITY 359 
 
 deep our union is. That, Christiane, ought to make 
 your mind inaccessible to certain fears. Our love is 
 as dear to me as it is to you and I shall do nothing 
 that would be an insult to it." 
 
 Christiane breathed more freely. 
 
 " You have taken a load off my mind," she said. 
 
 " Why did you hide from me all these ideas that 
 have been troubling you?" asked the Marquis, in a 
 reproachful tone. 
 
 "Out of pride and delicacy. I honestly thought 
 that I was above all this. Ah, I have had an oppor- 
 tunity of judging for myself how much I was above 
 it. Take my word for it, love is not the noblest senti- 
 ment of our nature; there is too much instinct mixed 
 with it, too much animality. It is only really great 
 in our dreams of it." 
 
 As he said this, they had just reached the door of 
 her house. 
 
 " I must go in now," she said, stopping and trying 
 to free her arm, which Jacques still held. 
 
 " Tell me that you are satisfied and happy and 
 cured," he said. 
 
 ** For the present moment, yes, quite." 
 
 In her long cloak, with the hood drawn up, there 
 was something both alluring and mysterious about 
 the Duchess. The Marquis gazed in admiration at her 
 face, which was now serene once more and spiritual- 
 ised, as it were. Under the half-open mantle, he saw 
 the beautiful outlines of her figure, in its closely 
 fitting dress of soft, gleaming satin. 
 
 " I should like to carry you off," he said, in a tone 
 that had suddenly changed. 
 
 " Then I must ring for help," said Madame de 
 Blanzac, putting her finger on the bell knob.
 
 3(>0 AMERICAN NOBILITY 
 
 When the gate opened, she would not allow the 
 Marquis to go any further with her, but she left him 
 with a feeling of triumphant joy in her heart, know- 
 ing that she had won him back. 
 
 She had scarcely disappeared when the expression 
 on the Marquis's face changed completely. He did not 
 go home immediately, but began to walk slowly up and 
 down, with his head lowered and his eyes fixed on 
 the ground, thinking over what had just taken place. 
 As he recalled the Duchess's words, his anxiety in- 
 creased. She was jealous of Annie. He had managed 
 to appease her for to-day, but would he be able to do 
 so to-morrow and always? Would not this jealousy 
 lead to a clash between the two women, as they met 
 nearly every day? Christiane must really have been 
 carried away by her feelings to have been conscious 
 of her weakness, and to have owned to it. At the 
 bare thought of all this, Jacques shuddered. He did not 
 dare even think of the consequences of the discovery of 
 his liaison. He tried to fancy that such a thing was 
 impossible. He could not recover his equanimity 
 though, and he said to himself that he would have 
 to be on his guard. 
 
 " They are all the same," he said to himself, with 
 a feeling of anger and disappointment. 
 
 When he reappeared among his guests, poker was 
 at its height. 
 
 " I thought you were lost, Jacques," said Annie, 
 gaily. 
 
 " I insisted on Madame de Blanzac having a little 
 fresh air before she went in. It is such a lovely night 
 and so I persuaded her to take a little stroll. Just 
 at this hour, the Faubourg looks most curious. It is 
 like a dream-city, with its long, deserted streets, all
 
 AMERICAN NOBILITY 361 
 
 white in the moonlight, its silent houses, and the rats 
 going in and out of the drains. It is most fantastic." 
 
 For this little description, the Marquis must have 
 been making use of impressions already stored in his 
 mind, for he had certainly only seen the Duchess on 
 this particular evening. 
 
 Guy looked up and his eye-glass fell from its orbit. 
 A sly smile made his moustache bristle as he glanced 
 at his friend with a mixture of anger and admiration. 
 This picture, sketched with such careless ease, and 
 particularly the realistic touch of the rats going in 
 and out of the drains, seemed to him the climax of 
 rascality and cleverness. 
 
 " Oh, those rats, those rats ! " he repeated in a comic 
 way, but in a tone that proved to the Marquis that 
 he, at any rate, was not duped.
 
 CHAPTER XVII 
 
 THERE was a dance at the Anguilhons'. The young 
 Marchioness had sent out invitations to a simple 
 cotillon, but it was a cotillon for which greenhouses, 
 gardens, and even woods had had to contribute, for 
 there were wreaths, chains, rings, bunches, and sheaves 
 of spring flowers. All kinds of flowers were there, 
 from the rose to the simple violet. The cost of it all 
 must have been a small fortune. 
 
 The Viscount de Nozay and Annie, who had been 
 dancing together, were just resting a few moments. 
 
 " They are enjoying themselves ! " said Guy, glancing 
 around him. 
 
 " Thank Heaven ! I never breathe freely until I see 
 a little animation among my guests, until I begin to 
 feel the success, as you say in French." 
 
 " Well, you can breathe freely now. The animation 
 has begun and it would be difficult to stop it. Challans 
 has the knack of giving the start. How pretty it is 
 with the flowers on all the women's shoulders, hands, 
 and arms! The flowers themselves look as though they 
 are living and animated by the music. I am sure the 
 idea of this cotillon is one of yours." 
 
 " Yes, but Madame d'Anguilhon, the Duchess, and 
 Jacques helped me to organise everything. It has been 
 such fun. Just look at Madame de Blanzac! How 
 beautiful she is ! I would give anything to be like her." 
 
 362
 
 AMERICAN NOBILITY 363 
 
 " And she would, no doubt, give a great deal to have 
 your youth. Without flattery, I do not think you 
 need envy any one. One should neither overestimate 
 nor undervalue one's own worth." 
 
 " I once had a fairly good opinion of myself," said 
 Annie, laughing. " I used to be so much admired and 
 spoilt, but since I have been in Europe I have come 
 down a little in my own estimation. I quite realise 
 that French women have a peculiar charm that I shall 
 never have, a charm that is due to race, education, or 
 to some other cause. I feel a regular baby beside them 
 and I am always afraid that Jacques will, in the long 
 run, think I am insipid. I am only surprised that he 
 should ever have given me a thought." 
 
 Surprised that Jacques should have given a thought 
 to her, when she had a dowry of sixty million francs ! 
 Guy looked at the young Marchioness, with an ex- 
 pression of mingled pity and admiration. 
 
 " She must have been created specially, money and 
 all, for that rascal, Jacques ! " he said to himself, half 
 angrily. 
 
 On the other side of a great mass of plants, to the 
 right of Annie, two men were chatting idly about the 
 various people they were watching. 
 
 " Just look at Anguilhon and Madame de Blanzac," 
 said one of them. "What a fine couple they make! 
 Two aristocrats there, and no mistake." 
 
 " More or less. The Duchess's father was the son 
 of a peasant." 
 
 " Really ? Well, with women one never knows. At 
 any rate, on the Aranc,ay side of her family there was 
 aristocracy enough to make up for that. I have often 
 wondered why Anguilhon and Madame de Blanzac did 
 not marry."
 
 3t>4 AMERICAN NOBILITY 
 
 "A question of money, probably." 
 
 "Well, it was a pity. They look as though they 
 were made for each other. They always give me the 
 impression that they either have been in love with 
 each other, or that they will be, some day. They ap- 
 pear to be on the best of terms, at any rate. The 
 Marchioness must be of a very unsuspicious nature 
 and she is certainly very imprudent." 
 
 Annie overheard the whole of this conversation. 
 Just at first, nothing troubled her, except the words 
 " made for each other." She looked at her husband 
 and then at the Duchess. They seemed to be dancing 
 in a strange way, at one moment with a languorous 
 step and then, all at once, with great vivacity. As 
 she watched them, she felt less and less joyful and 
 her heart sank. They certainly did look as though 
 they had been made for each other. She remembered 
 that Clara had said the same thing. Annie did not 
 regain her serenity all the rest of the evening. The 
 words " made for each other " kept echoing within her 
 and she could hear them above the sound of the music, 
 the conversations, and all the joyful gaiety of the ball. 
 
 Later on in the evening, she happened to be with 
 Monsieur de Keradieu, just behind her husband and 
 the Duchess. They were both standing in a doorway 
 and she heard Jacques say, in a warm, muffled voice: 
 
 " I can quite understand the poor King of Bavaria 
 having Wagner's operas played for himself alone, in 
 order to enter into them better. He was a great 
 idealist. I should like to dance with you, to the sound 
 of an invisible orchestra, in an empty room decorated 
 with fragrant flowers, lighted with very soft lights. I 
 should like to dance with you then as long as I had 
 any strength to dance . . ."
 
 AMERICAN NOBILITY 365 
 
 Although Annie was half hidden by the curtain, 
 Christiane had seen her, fortunately. She turned 
 round and said to her, with a smile: 
 
 " You hear what nonsense Monsieur d'Anguilhon is 
 talking?" 
 
 " I do," answered the young Marchioness, somewhat 
 coldly. 
 
 She had heard, but she had not understood all that 
 her husband's words meant. 
 
 Monsieur de Keradieu was simply amazed. 
 
 " Why, it is a fancy worthy of a decadent or a sym- 
 bolist," he said, by way of putting Annie off the scent. 
 " Do you belong to the Rose-Croix brotherhood ? " 
 
 Jacques seized the helping hand offered to him. 
 
 " No," he answered, with a laugh that did not sound 
 genuine, " but dancing always intoxicates me a little." 
 
 " You see what it is to be young," said Henri de 
 Keradieu, in a careless tone. " Dancing simply tires 
 me, nowadays." 
 
 Annie was never the same again after this ball. It 
 was destined to be one of the turning-points in her 
 life. The conversation she had overheard produced in 
 her the same effect as that produced by a stone thrown 
 slantingly on to the surface of still water. Thanks to 
 the rebound, the ripples are increased in number and 
 size. At every moment, and everywhere, the words 
 kept coming back to her mind in the most cruel way, 
 causing her pain and spoiling all her enjoyment. She 
 began to wonder whether Jacques and the Duchess had 
 not been in love with each other in the old days. She 
 did not go as far as to suppose it possible for them 
 to be in love now. She knew that Christiane had 
 wanted her to marry Jacques and had even helped to 
 bring the marriage about and this somewhat reassured
 
 366 AMERICAN NOBILITY 
 
 her. Her husband's words then came to her memory. 
 Most certainly he would never have wished to dance 
 with her, Annie, to the music of an invisible orchestra, 
 in an empty room, with fragrant flowers all round and 
 a soft light. She was surprised that he should have 
 so extravagant a fancy. 
 
 Christiane's visits no longer gave her the same 
 pleasure as formerly. Her presence, which, only a few 
 days before, had caused her such joy, made her anxious 
 and nervous now, so that, without being aware of it 
 herself, she was less cordial in her greeting. 
 
 Jacques soon noticed the change in his wife. Her 
 charming face seemed to be always clouded over now 
 and, on looking at her suddenly, he was constantly 
 finding her limpid eyes fixed on him with an expression 
 of curiosity and anxiety in them. He could not 
 imagine how, but he felt sure that her distrust had 
 been awakened. He was more attentive to her and 
 more tender and he began to give up more time to 
 her. Annie, on her side, urged on by a curious in- 
 stinct of rivalry and an unconscious desire to make 
 the Duchess suffer, began to depart from her natural 
 reserve, and to praise her husband's good qualities to 
 her. She would speak of his little attentions to her, 
 and talk enthusiastically of this long journey they 
 were going together. These confidences simply tor- 
 tured Christiane, and more than once she almost cried 
 out: "Enough, enough!" 
 
 Under the empire of a sentiment she did not com- 
 prehend, the young wife was more familiar in her 
 treatment of her husband now, in the presence of 
 Madame de Blanzac. One day, when she was standing 
 up near his chair, she suddenly put her hands over 
 his eyes.
 
 AMERICAN NOBILITY 367 
 
 " Jacques," she said, " I will not allow you to look 
 at Madame de Blanzac like that or at any other 
 woman," she added, laughing. 
 
 The duel had begun between the two rivals, and it 
 was easy to foresee that it would be fatal for both 
 of them.
 
 CHAPTER XVIII 
 
 THE Marquis and Marchioness d'Anguilhon had en- 
 gaged their berths on board the Gascogne, and were 
 to embark for America on the first of July. 
 
 The thought of this journey made the Duchess more 
 and more desperate. By virtue of her right as his 
 wife, Annie was taking away the man whom she, 
 Christiane, loved, and who belonged to her. At the 
 bare thought of this, her whole being protested and 
 her pride rebelled. At times, the effervescence of her 
 passionate love obscured her reason, just as the 
 effervescence of a heady wine will hide the wine itself. 
 She felt within herself a violence that alarmed her, 
 and she suffered all the more intensely because she 
 had to suffer in silence. The day when she had given 
 way to her jealousy in Jacques' presence, he had 
 appeared surprised and pained, but he had not under- 
 stood her. A man only understands his own jealousy. 
 He always considers that of a woman more or less 
 unreasonable. When he is no longer suffering from 
 jealousy himself, he very quickly forgets how painful 
 and cruel it is to body, mind, and soul alike. The 
 Duchess knew this, and so did not speak again about 
 the visit to America. Jacques, on his side, from moral 
 cowardice, had avoided making any allusion to it. 
 This was a mistake. In situations like theirs, the mind 
 is always at high pressure, and scenes, reproaches, and 
 
 368
 
 AMERICAN NOBILITY 369 
 
 fits of anger all act as safety-valves. Christiane 
 had disdained this vulgar means of relief and the 
 consequence was that her heart was nearly bursting 
 with pain and sorrow. 
 
 It was the fifteenth of June and the heat was over- 
 whelming. From the four points of the heavens, the 
 clouds were rising and a storm was gathering over 
 Paris. Madame de Blanzac had given orders that she 
 was not at home to callers. This frequently happened 
 now, to the great disappointment of her friends. The 
 electricity with which the atmosphere was charged 
 affected her, as it does the birds, the plants, and the 
 barometer. She was suffering to the very depths of 
 her being, physically and morally. After trying to 
 interest herself in books and music, she began to pace 
 up and down the room, slowly and with irregular 
 steps. Her head was bowed, as though under the 
 weight of painful thoughts. From time to time, she 
 would go to the French window, to get a little air 
 and to see in which direction the storm was. 
 
 The Keradieus and the Anguilhons were going to- 
 gether to the Ambassadeurs that evening. As Madame 
 de Blanzac had invited the Prince de Nolles to dinner, 
 and as he detested cafes-concerts, she had been obliged 
 to decline going with them. This she regretted on 
 Jacques' account, and she was hoping that the weather 
 might prevent them from carrying out their plan. 
 
 Poor Christiane ! She, whose mind had once soared 
 so high, had now come down to such a paltry wish ! 
 
 Just as she had looked at the sky for the tenth 
 time, a letter was brought to her from the Prince de 
 Nolles* He wrote to excuse himself from coming to 
 dinner, as he was called away from Paris on important 
 business. 
 
 34:
 
 :m) AMERICAN NOBILITY 
 
 It was with keen satisfaction that the Duchess read 
 these lines, destined though they were to urge her on 
 in the direction of the abyss. She decided to go her- 
 self and tell Annie that she was free, after all, and 
 ask Jacques to secure two more seats, one for herself 
 and one for her uncle. She rang for her gloves and 
 hat and went in neighbourly fashion, as she frequently 
 did, next door. The footman told her that the Marquis 
 and the Marchioness were out in the garden. She said 
 she would go out to them. When she had reached the 
 stone steps leading outdoors, she looked across the 
 lawn and along the two paths, shaded by trees. As 
 she saw no one there, she turned in the direction of 
 the greenhouse, the door of which was wide open. 
 Before reaching it, she heard childish cries of joy, and 
 the sound of kisses. She stood still and, through a 
 gap in the foliage, she saw Jacques and Annie sitting 
 on a sofa, with their backs turned towards her. The 
 child was standing up between them, holding their 
 faces together with his little arms and kissing them 
 in turn. 
 
 " One for papa, one for mamma," he was saying. 
 
 The arrival of the nurse put an end to the game 
 and Annie freed herself from the child's embrace. 
 
 " Here is Mary," she said. " Go with her and be 
 good." 
 
 The boy clambered down and ran to his nurse. This 
 little family scene gave the Duchess a pang at her 
 heart and brought the tears to her eyes. 
 
 Jacques' voice, his tender, warm voice that she knew 
 so well, held her rooted to the spot. 
 
 "What a fine child he is, that son of ours!" he 
 said. " With his white complexion and his fair hair, 
 he looks a regular Saxon."
 
 AMERICAN NOBILITY 371 
 
 " I hope he will have the Anguilhon nose," returned 
 Annie. 
 
 " And I hope he will have the energy and the prac- 
 tical mind of the Villars family. Our race greatly 
 needs those qualities and no woman better than an 
 American could give them to him." 
 
 " Yes, I think that but you, yourself, Jacques, 
 would have been happier with a French woman." 
 
 " You say that for the pleasure of hearing me repeat 
 the contrary. Happier," he continued, " why, we have 
 been married now four years and a half, and we have 
 never had the slightest disagreement, not a single dis- 
 agreeable word. Very few married people could say 
 the same, I assure you. No, I should not like any 
 other woman than you for my companion through life 
 and I should not like any other woman for the mother 
 of my sons, of my sons," he repeated and then he 
 added, in a lower voice, " for we shall have another 
 soon, shall we not?" 
 
 The Marquis put his arm round Annie's shoulders 
 and, drawing her to him, kissed her lips. 
 
 " Jacques ! " 
 
 On hearing this name uttered like a cry of pain, 
 the husband and wife rose to their feet with a start 
 and, turning round, saw the Duchess advancing to- 
 wards them. She looked like some tragic apparition 
 with her livid face and her eyes gleaming with madness. 
 
 "Which of us are you deceiving?" she asked, ad- 
 dressing the Marquis. " Annie," she continued, " your 
 husband has been my lover for two years for two 
 years, you understand. I have given him more than 
 you, for I have given him my honour and my life. 
 We have always loved each other. . . . He married you 
 because he needed money, and he could not borrow
 
 372 AMERICAN NOBILITY 
 
 it except on that condition. This is the truth. I have 
 wanted to tell you for long enough. I have done so 
 at last You can give him some more sons now, if 
 you feel inclined " 
 
 After uttering these atrocious words, Christiane 
 turned and moved towards the door, staggering like 
 an intoxicated person. 
 
 " Go to your room," said the Marquis to his wife, 
 in a voice so changed that it was unrecognisable. 
 
 Annie obeyed mechanically. She went away with- 
 out uttering a word, her teeth clenched together, 
 and an expression of horror and disgust on her 
 face. 
 
 Jacques then went quickly after the Duchess. She 
 could not have gone far, as her heart was beating so 
 wildly that she could not draw her breath. She had 
 just managed to reach an armchair in the next draw- 
 ing-room, and had sunk down on to it. As the Marquis 
 approached, she made a supreme effort, and stood up 
 again. They looked at each other for a few seconds 
 in silence, with an expression of defiance in their eyes, 
 and then Jacques, giving way to the anger that was 
 surging up within him, seized the Duchess's wrist 
 roughly, as though he would have liked to crush her 
 there and then. 
 
 " It is you you who could be guilty of such an 
 infamous thing?" he said, his eyes flashing with rage. 
 " It is unworthy of you ! " 
 
 This violence reacted on the Duchess's nerves. A 
 rush of blood chased the paleness from her face. She 
 disengaged herself from the Marquis's grasp and, 
 drawing herself up haughtily, said, with the most 
 surprising calmness : 
 
 " Yes, it is I who have committed this infamy. Your
 
 AMERICAN NOBILITY 373 
 
 treachery urged me to it, and I do not regret it." She 
 said the last words in a hard tone of voice. 
 
 Jacques shrugged his shoulders. 
 
 "My treachery?" he exclaimed. "I am married 
 and you were fully aware of that fact." 
 
 " Yes, but one never believes one never realises. 
 Any woman who has seen the man she loves kissing 
 the lips of another woman would understand. That 
 kiss maddened me. If I had had a revolver, I should 
 have killed you." 
 
 " That would have been better for me. What you 
 have done is as though you had thrown vitriol in my 
 face. I should have preferred death." 
 
 As Jacques said this, it was as though his legs had 
 given way under him. He sank down on a chair and 
 his pale face and haggard look suddenly roused the 
 Duchess's pity and remorse. She approached him and 
 laid her hand gently on his shoulder. 
 
 " Shall you ever forgive me?" she asked, humbly. 
 
 " Forgive you," he repeated, in a mechanical way. 
 " I do not know I feel like a man on whom a thunder- 
 bolt has just fallen." 
 
 " Well, when you can think again, say to yourself 
 that I was carried away by the pain that your act 
 and your words caused me. Say to yourself, too, that 
 the end of our dream had to come to-day, and that 
 nothing could have advanced or delayed it. It is surely 
 a case which shows that we are led by destiny. Adieu. 
 You will come and tell me, to-morrow, what happens 
 between Annie and you, will you not ? " 
 
 " I will come with you to the door," said Jacques, 
 getting up. 
 
 " No, there is no need to," said Christiane, and then, 
 seeing that the Marquis was paying no attention to
 
 374 AMERICAN NOBILITY 
 
 her words, she added, in an imperative tone : " Stay 
 where you are." 
 
 Jacques obeyed her this time and she went away, 
 passing through the long suite of reception-rooms. He 
 watched her in a kind of stupor. He saw her pusli 
 aside the curtains on the doors, gradually get smaller 
 in the distance, until at last she disappeared alto- 
 gether. A strange sensation of cold, desertion, and 
 gloom then came over him. 
 
 Just at this moment, he heard a peal of thunder. 
 His nerves were so much shaken that he started, 
 violently. He went to the window and looked up at 
 the sky. 
 
 " On what slight things a man's happiness depends ! " 
 he said to himself. " Nothing of this would have 
 happened if it had not been for this accursed 
 thunder-storm ! "
 
 CHAPTER XIX 
 
 ANNIE never knew how she reached her room, but, 
 when once there, she locked herself in. Dizzy and 
 bewildered, and trembling all over, she threw herself 
 on to a sofa and buried her face in a cushion. For 
 a few moments, she could not realise just what had 
 happened. Gradually, the odious scene came back to 
 her mind in all its details. She then drew herself 
 up abruptly and, with a fixed gaze in her eyes, her 
 nose taking a pinched expression and her mouth be- 
 coming rigid, she began to roll the hem of her 
 handkerchief round nervously. 
 
 And so Madame de Blanzac had been her husband's 
 mistress for two years and she had only been married 
 for her money ! This revelation had, at first, given her 
 the same terror that she would have had if she had 
 suddenly seen her house swallowed up by the earth 
 and felt the ground giving way under her feet. At 
 present, though, this double infamy had raised within 
 her a whole tide of anger and contempt, which threat- 
 ened to sweep all before it. Jacques was not a gentle- 
 man! This seemed to her more frightful than the 
 unfaithfulness itself. He had accepted an immense 
 fortune from her, without loving her. He had per- 
 jured himself, had lied to her thousands of times, he, 
 whose family motto was Tout droit. She had fallen 
 into one of the traps for heiresses, of which Frank 
 
 375
 
 376 AMERICAN NOBILITY 
 
 Barnett had warned her. Ah, if this were to be known 
 in America, how people would triumph ! 
 
 Annie was surprised at herself for having believed 
 a foreigner's word so readily. She recalled that dinner 
 at the Duchess's, where she had met Jacques for the 
 first time. He had seemed to her such a thorough 
 aristocrat. He had paid no attention to her and had 
 taken very little notice of her for a long time. And 
 yet, he had intended marrying her and he had acted 
 in this way merely to arouse her interest. She had 
 been the victim of a regular plot. The various in- 
 cidents which had brought them together came back 
 to her memory. She now believed that they had all 
 been carefully arranged. Then she recalled the beauti- 
 ful things Jacques had said on that evening when he 
 had declared his love. He had been so tender and 
 what he said had all been so dignified. A burning 
 blush swept over her face as she thought that he had 
 simply been making fun of her. Well, he had cer- 
 tainly played his part very cleverly. The young wife's 
 heart swelled with bitterness at the thought that the 
 gift of herself and of an almost royal fortune had not 
 sufficed for making her husband respect her. He had 
 deceived her after a year and a half of married life 
 and under their own roof. He had continued to 
 blind her with his protestations of love. This de- 
 nunciation, which had interrupted his hypocritical 
 kiss, was his punishment. She saw Madame de 
 Blanzac, suddenly appearing before them and hurling 
 those horrible words at them, which were to separate 
 them for ever. She had looked taller than usual and 
 very terrible, with her livid face and dilated eyes. 
 What had prompted her to that denunciation? Was 
 it jealousy? How could she be jealous though, when
 
 AMERICAN NOBILITY 377 
 
 she knew that Jacques had no love for his wife? And 
 so she had been his mistress for the last two years 
 and the confidence that she, Annie, had had in them 
 both had given them free play. Not only had she had 
 no suspicion of what was going on, but she had helped 
 them herself, by constantly throwing them together. 
 They certainly had deceived her and gulled her. It 
 was not at all surprising that they had always had so 
 much to say to each other. And they had probably 
 been meeting each other, clandestinely, in some mys- 
 terious ground-floor flat, like the people that one reads 
 of in the Vie Parisienne. And so the Duchess, grande 
 dame and proud as she was, would condescend to meet 
 her lover in a flat that he would have to fur- 
 nish with his wife's money. That was certainly the 
 climax. 
 
 " What a set ! What a set ! " exclaimed Annie, 
 aloud, squeezing her hands together. 
 
 " Yes, they had evidently been made for each 
 other," she went on soliloquising, " physically and 
 morally." 
 
 A feeling of absolute desertion and intense loneli- 
 ness then came over the young wife, bringing the tears 
 to her eyes. What should she do? she asked herself. 
 Should she obtain a divorce? No, for then, Jacques 
 would be able to marry Madame de Blanzac, and she 
 would not give him that opportunity. She would keep 
 his title and his name. She had paid dearly enough 
 for them to have a right to keep them. She would 
 return to America, to her mother and her family, and 
 spend the rest of her life among straightforward people. 
 It would have been so much better for her if only 
 she had never come away. At the thought of return- 
 ing to America, Annie suddenly felt the strength of
 
 378 AMERICAN NOBILITY 
 
 the ties that bound her to Europe. Curiously enough, 
 an instantaneous vision of New York flashed through 
 her mind. She saw its long avenues, its tall, narrow 
 houses, its middle-class homes, its swarming crowds, 
 and its hurried and noisy daily life. She then saw Paris, 
 with all its elegance and repose. She felt sure that she 
 should be very sorry to leave it, when the time really 
 came. And then Blonay that she loved so much, and 
 all the philanthropic schemes that she had commenced. 
 There was the priest, too, with whom she got on so 
 well. She then thought of her mother-in-law, who had 
 been such a perfect friend to her. A suspicion sud- 
 denly crossed her mind. Had her mother-in-law been 
 a true friend, or had she, too, been playing a part? 
 Had the meeting at La Bluette been arranged? She 
 thought this over for a few minutes, and then her face 
 brightened. No, Madame d'Anguilhon was certainly 
 innocent of all these vile things and had known nothing 
 of them. It did Annie good to think that, at least, 
 there was one person on whom she could count. She 
 then began to examine the situation with the most 
 extraordinary lucidity. Since she did not intend to 
 consent to a divorce, she would have to remain in 
 France. Her son would be the head of the Aiiguilhon 
 family, so that she could not take him away to America. 
 If she stayed in France, she would have to continue 
 living under the same roof as her husband. There 
 must be no scandal, as she would have to endeavour 
 to save the honour of the name that she bore. She 
 would try to carry all this out. By remaining at her 
 post, she felt sure that she would greatly disappoint 
 the Duchess. It was some little consolation to avenge 
 herself in this way. 
 
 Poor Annie! She would have been very indignant
 
 AMERICAN NOBILITY 379 
 
 if, at that moment, any one had told her she was very 
 glad to find that her duty obliged her to stay with 
 Jacques, that she loved him in spite of everything, and 
 that she would love him still more as time went on.
 
 CHAPTER XX 
 
 THE Marquis d'Anguilhon "went to his room in a 
 very unenviable frame of mind. All the consequences 
 of his folly now rose up before him. There would be 
 a divorce and this would mean scandal and ruin. 
 His son's future would be darkened and the happiness 
 of his wife and mother destroyed for ever. He was 
 simply crushed at the thought of the immense dis- 
 aster. He did not remain long, however, in this con- 
 dition. He had not the force of character to avoid 
 certain errors and follies, but when once he had com- 
 mitted them, he was courageous enough to try to 
 repair them. When brought face to face with a critical 
 situation, his innate bravery and clear-headedness came 
 to his aid and his hereditary qualities helped him to 
 come out of the difficulty in a creditable way. In this 
 dire moment, they did not fail him. Instead of knock- 
 ing his head against the wall, he set himself calmly to 
 think over the situation. It was by no means reassuring. 
 During the terrible scene that had just taken place, 
 he had not dared to look at Annie, but he had felt her 
 horror and contempt in a magnetic way. He knew 
 how highly her sense of honour was developed and 
 how rigid she was in questions of morality. He was 
 quite prepared to be severely judged and pitilessly 
 treated. With her character and her temperament, it 
 would be impossible to make her relent or persuade 
 
 380
 
 AMERICAN NOBILITY 381 
 
 her to forgive him. Jacques saw clearly enough that 
 his only chance was to make a sincere confession of 
 his acts and of his feelings. The truth would, fortun- 
 ately, make him seem somewhat less odious and might 
 give him back a little of his prestige. An explanation 
 was both necessary and inevitable. It was better to 
 get it over at once. 
 
 After bracing himself up for the ordeal, he went and 
 knocked at his wife's door. On receiving no answer, 
 he went round by another landing and, passing through 
 the dressing-room, entered his wife's room by the other 
 door. 
 
 On seeing him suddenly appear before her, Annie 
 rose, as though to protest against his presence. There 
 were no signs of tears on her face, but very evident 
 signs of intense grief. On seeing it so drawn and so 
 changed, Jacques felt the keenest remorse. He was 
 tempted to take her in his arms, to kneel before her, 
 and beg her to forgive him. The cold, implacable look 
 in her eyes restrained him from doing this, fortunately. 
 He conquered his emotion and, with his head perfectly 
 erect, said: 
 
 " I have not come to try to justify myself " 
 
 " That would be difficult, I should think," inter- 
 rupted the Marchioness. 
 
 " It would be impossible," answered Jacques, with 
 perfect self-possession. " I merely wish to give you 
 the true facts," he continued, " as I do not care for 
 you to think me worse than I am. I know you will 
 listen to me, if only out of a sense of justice." 
 
 The Marchioness was completely subdued by the 
 boldness and audacity of her husband. She sat down 
 again, absolutely unable to utter a word. Jacques 
 took an armchair and, with his eyes fixed on his wife,
 
 382 AMERICAN NOBILITY 
 
 he told her exactly the truth about the way the mar- 
 riage had been suggested to him by Bontemps, just as 
 he was preparing to start for Africa. He told her 
 how he had gone to the Duchess and also about the 
 transaction with Madame de Lene. These two details 
 were extremely disagreeable to confess. 
 
 " Before deciding," he added, " I wanted to see you. 
 I looked at you the whole of an evening at the Opera, 
 through my glasses. You fascinated me by the gay, 
 frank expression of your face, by your distinguished 
 look, the pretty way your head was set, the colour of 
 your hair, and your beautiful complexion. I was 
 tempted to try and win you, all the more so as I had 
 been told that you did not wish to marry a Frenchman. 
 You know me well enough to be sure that I would 
 never have consented to marry a girl I did not like, 
 oven if she had possessed the fortune of all the Roths- 
 childs. When I asked you to be my wife, I was 
 actuated by a feeling that was deep and sincere and 
 absolutely disinterested." 
 
 " All that is very pretty," said Annie, with an accent 
 of contempt, " but you forget that Madame de Blanzac 
 told me, just now, you had always loved each other." 
 
 " Yes, but it is quite possible to have within us the 
 germs of a disease or of a passion, for a long time, 
 without knowing it. The Duchess and 'I had known 
 each other from childhood, but we had been separated 
 by circumstances. My marriage brought us together 
 again. The germs which had been within us developed, 
 our love became irresistible, and we were weak and 
 gave way to it." 
 
 " Yes, and you were false to all your oaths, to all 
 your promises, just like the most ordinary of men. 
 I do not really know why one should expect to find
 
 AMERICAN NOBILITY 383 
 
 more honour and more loyalty in the aristocracy than 
 in other classes of society. I am reading French his- 
 tory now and I find that dukes, princes, and marquises 
 have betrayed their country, their kings have treated 
 with the enemy and been guilty of every kind of 
 infamy." 
 
 At this slap, so roughly administered by Annie's 
 little democratic hand, Jacques turned pale, his eyes 
 flashed, and his lips quivered with anger. He mastered 
 himself though, and held up his head again, as he 
 said: 
 
 " There have been traitors and miserable wretches 
 among us, for the simple reason that, in this world, 
 nothing is perfect, neither race, family, nor individuals. 
 I would advise you to continue reading and to rise 
 above personalities. You will see that the crimes of 
 a few have been outbalanced by the courage, heroism, 
 and real merit of the great majority, and that the 
 princes, dukes, and marquises have made France, that 
 they defended it against England, Germany, and 
 Spain, and gave it a preponderance and a prestige 
 that it will, perhaps, never have again. My faults 
 must not make you unjust," added the Marquis, with 
 dignity. " Then, too," he continued, after a moment's 
 pause, " believe me, we do not make our own destiny. 
 You can see that by yourself. Had you not declared 
 that you would never marry a foreigner? I married 
 you with the firm intention of making you happy I 
 have not been able to do so." 
 
 " If I had been unfaithful to you and had come to 
 you and said that it was due to fatality, how should 
 you have received me?" 
 
 " Logically, I should have pitied and forgiven you, 
 but I must own that, very probably, I should not have
 
 384 AMERICAN NOBILITY 
 
 been wise enough for that. The wife's unfaithfulness 
 has such grave consequences. It destroys the integ- 
 rity of the family, whilst that of the husband " 
 
 " Merely destroys the happiness of a woman," inter- 
 rupted Annie. "That, of course, is a very small 
 matter." 
 
 " No, it is not a small matter, especially in the case 
 of a woman like you. I have suffered horribly at the 
 thought of deceiving you, and all the more as I have 
 always loved you." 
 
 Annie's eyes opened wide in her astonishment. 
 
 "You have always loved me?" she repeated, slowly. 
 
 " Always," said the Marquis, in a firm tone. " My 
 affection for you has gone on increasing. All my 
 tender words and all my caresses were the expression 
 of that deep and noble sentiment which is called 
 conjugal love." 
 
 " Ah, really ? And what about that much deeper 
 and, probably, much nobler sentiment, which you have 
 for Madame de Blanzac? What is that called? " asked 
 the Marchioness, with biting irony. " I am curious 
 to know that." 
 
 " Love," answered Jacques, imperturbably. 
 
 A pained look crossed Annie's face. 
 
 " I thought it was only in novels that a man loves 
 two women at the same time." 
 
 " In life, too, alas ! You see the wife becomes flesh 
 of our flesh; she bears our name; she becomes a part 
 of ourselves, and we can love outside marriage as well. 
 This is so true that one of my friends told me that 
 he was constantly tempted to tell his wife the worries 
 that his mistress causes him." 
 
 " Ah, what poor little girls we Americans are ! " 
 exclaimed Annie. " How little we know to what we
 
 AMERICAN NOBILITY 385 
 
 are exposing ourselves by marrying men with such 
 different souls from ours ! " 
 
 " Annie, I would give my life to repair the wrong 
 I have done you," said the Marquis in a tone of 
 absolute sincerity. 
 
 " Words, nothing but words," replied the young wife. 
 " You know quite well that you cannot repair it." 
 
 " I can, at any rate, give you back your liberty." 
 
 It was not without violent emotion, that Jacques 
 uttered these words. 
 
 " You mean divorce ? " said Annie, turning paler. 
 " Thank you, you are very kind, but that would only 
 be adding to my misfortune. It is the same with us 
 as with you ; a woman who is divorced, even when the 
 fault is not hers, has a false position always. I have 
 had great difficulty in accustoming myself to your kind 
 of life. I have felt horribly lonely and homesick often. 
 At present, I am acclimatised; I have made some 
 friends, and I have created certain interests for my- 
 self. It would be almost like a second exile to go 
 back to America now. Then, too, there is Philippe. 
 I do not wish him to be the son of divorced parents 
 and I will not give him up. I have often blamed 
 French women for continuing to live with unfaithful 
 husbands. I spoke then without reflection. It had 
 not occurred to me that they could be kept at their 
 post by their children. One does not realise the 
 strength of certain bonds until one wants to break 
 them," she added bitterly. " No tribunal could divorce 
 us more effectually than the words uttered by Madame 
 de Blanzac," she went on, with a slight change in her 
 voice. " This house and Blonay are big enough for us 
 to be able to live apart and without being in each 
 other's way." 
 
 25
 
 386 AMERICAN NOBILITY 
 
 Jacques did not show the joy he felt on hearing 
 these words. 
 
 " It shall be exactly as you wish," he said, coldly. 
 " As you refuse divorce, I must ask you to observe 
 the strictest silence about what has taken place. Can 
 you promise to act in such a way that no one may 
 suspect the truth ? " 
 
 "You wish to save Madame de Blanzac's reputa- 
 tion?" 
 
 " I must, since she is a woman and has no one to 
 defend her " 
 
 " And she is also a victim of fatality?" 
 
 " Certainly. People are always to be pitied who 
 have the cruel parts to play. Would you like to 
 change places with her ? " 
 
 " No, most decidedly not." 
 
 " Well, then, you see " 
 
 " I shall keep silence, but not on Madame de Blan- 
 zac's account, as I do not pretend to have any greatness 
 of soul. It will be for your mother's sake and for the 
 sake of my family. If the way you have treated me 
 were known in America, every one would say that I 
 had what I deserved, and I should be despised for 
 continuing to live with you. No one would under- 
 stand, no one could understand such a thing. I shall 
 try, at any rate, to save my own dignity. You can 
 be quite easy on that score, as it is as much in my 
 interest as in yours that this secret should be kept. 
 There is only one thing. The rupture between Madame 
 de Blanzac and me is sure to cause a sensation. People 
 will try to find out the reason and they will discover 
 the truth, you may be sure of that." 
 
 " When two men have any reason for concealing the 
 real reason of a duel, they put people off the scent
 
 AMERICAN NOBILITY 387 
 
 by getting up a quarrel. You can do the same. Rea- 
 sons for falling out with each other will be easy enough 
 to find." 
 
 " You might find one yourself, as I am not good at 
 lies." 
 
 " I will try," said Jacques, keeping calm. " Then, 
 too, Madame de Blanzac is just going to Deauville and 
 we are going to America." 
 
 " America ? " interrupted Annie. " Do you imagine 
 I want to go there, under present conditions? Clara 
 would have guessed the truth before we had been in 
 New York an hour. And I should not have strength 
 of mind to keep it from her, either, most probably. 
 We will go to Blonay first, and then we might travel 
 for a time anywhere, in Sweden and Norway, perhaps, 
 with the Keradieus. It will be our divorce-trip as a 
 complement to our wedding-trip. It will be quite 
 French." 
 
 The Marquis rose and went to the window. The 
 storm had been short and the weather was quite fine 
 again. 
 
 "Are we going to the Ambassadeurs? " he asked, 
 calmly, as though nothing had happened. 
 
 Annie was taken aback by her husband's self- 
 possession, but she quickly recovered herself. 
 
 " Oh, yes, certainly," she answered, promptly. " I 
 am quite like a French woman now, acting a comedy, 
 obliged to deceive, to dissemble, and to throw dust in 
 every one's eyes. I shall play my part very badly, I 
 warn you of that. I have never had anything to hide 
 before. I have never had any sorrow " 
 
 These last words went to Jacques' heart. 
 
 " I would rather have died than have caused you 
 any," he said.
 
 388 AMERICAN NOBILITY 
 
 " Yes, but you are not dead, and my life is spoilt 
 for ever." 
 
 " I will do all that is humanly possible to make the 
 situation less painful." 
 
 " It is not in your power." 
 
 " I will try, nevertheless." 
 
 With these words, uttered in a resolute tone, the 
 Marquis went away. His step was as firm and his 
 head as erect, as though his conscience had nothing 
 with which to reproach him. 
 
 Annie watched him go and in her eyes there was 
 an expression of mingled stupefaction, anger, and in- 
 voluntary admiration. Her lips then began to twitch 
 with the little quivering which betokens tears and, 
 in another minute, they had welled up to her eyes and 
 were falling down her cheeks. She wiped them away, 
 at first, with a sort of rage, but they continued to 
 flow until they had quietly allayed the first paroxysm 
 of her sorrow.
 
 CHAPTER XXI 
 
 EVEN those who believe the most firmly in free-will 
 cannot deny that anger, love, or jealousy may anni- 
 hilate what we call reason and will, and make a man 
 commit acts that will be fatal to him, acts which will 
 influence not only his own destiny, but that of others. 
 
 Jacques' kiss had been a shock to the Duchess's 
 heart and brain alike. She had uttered a cry, urged 
 on by an irresistible impulse, thus denouncing herself. 
 As soon as she came to herself again, her wonder was 
 that she could have acted as she had done. For some 
 hours afterwards, her limbs were still trembling nerv- 
 ously as a result of her fit of madness. All the dire 
 consequences of her rashness presented themselves to 
 her mind, until she was absolutely terror-stricken. 
 Annie would probably apply for a divorce, and the 
 thought of a divorce brought her no joy. She knew 
 men well enough to be fully aware that even the woman 
 they love the best only occupies a secondary place in 
 their existence. The Marquis d'Anguilhon revelled in 
 great luxury, the power that a large fortune gave him, 
 social position, and prestige. He would never forgive 
 her for the odium she had brought upon him, for the 
 scandal in which his name would be involved, and for 
 the breaking up of his home. She recalled the words 
 she had heard him say to his wife and she realised, 
 more than ever, that his love-affair with her was only 
 
 389
 
 390 AMERICAN NOBILITY 
 
 an incident in his life. She felt that Annie was more 
 powerful than she was. The scene she had just wit- 
 nessed came to her mind again. She saw little 
 Philippe, who was like a living link, drawing together 
 the faces of his mother and father. She felt very 
 insignificant in comparison with this great human 
 trinity and her heart began to bleed again with jeal- 
 ousy. Then she began to think of her uncle's grief, of 
 the pain and surprise of her friends. She thought of the 
 Keradieus and then of Louis de Challans and, as though 
 she felt their contempt, a violent colour immediately 
 suffused her cheeks. She could brave the world and 
 public opinion, but when she thought of her friends, 
 all her courage left her. The idea of suicide consoled 
 her. She would find a way to escape from all these 
 horrors. Death, at any rate, was within reach of her 
 hand and not beyond her courage. She now tried to 
 imagine the interview between Jacques and his wife. 
 Just as she was saying to herself that she should never 
 have the strength of mind to wait until the next day, 
 in order to hear the result of it, a letter was brought 
 to her from the Marquis. She tore the envelope open 
 and, with her heart beating wildly, read the words : 
 
 " Everything going as well as possible, much better 
 than we might have expected. Farewell till to- 
 morrow." 
 
 The Duchess's heart was greatly relieved. She read 
 the words over several times. There was evidently 
 to be no divorce then and no scandal. How had 
 Jacques managed to pacify his wife? Annie, of all 
 women, was so unbending and so rigid in her opinions. 
 She had so frequently railed against women who for- 
 give things of this kind. She began to wonder whether 
 they were reconciled. Curiously enough, she then won-
 
 AMERICAN NOBILITY 391 
 
 dered whether they would go to the Amlassadeurs. 
 This idea took possession of her tired brain and, 
 dominating all her other thoughts, pursued and worried 
 her. Finally, Christiane began to feel that pain caused 
 by a fixed idea. She was afraid of not being able to 
 go to sleep. She felt that she must have complete 
 oblivion, non-existence, for a time, at any cost. It 
 occurred to her that Dr. Moreau might help her, and 
 she sent asking him to come at once. As soon as he 
 saw Madame de Blanzac, the doctor guessed that the 
 catastrophe he had foreseen had taken place. 
 
 " I want you to give me twelve hours of sleep," she 
 said to him. 
 
 " As much as that ? " 
 
 " Years of sleep, if you could." 
 
 Monsieur Moreau took the Duchess's hand in his. 
 The quivering nerves and the uneven pulse revealed 
 to him the violence of the shock she had just had. His 
 eyes expressed a tender pity and sympathy which 
 went straight to Madame de Blanzac's heart and made 
 her give way suddenly. Two big tears rolled down 
 her cheeks. 
 
 " That 's right," said the doctor, in a voice that 
 showed how deeply he was moved. " Do not try to 
 stop your tears. Nothing could give you greater re- 
 lief. Discretion forbids my questioning you, but if 
 you need a friend, on whom you can count " 
 
 " Yes, I do indeed. I need a friend like you, one 
 who understands the human being, body and soul. 
 You have been sent to me by Providence to help me 
 in the crisis through which I am passing. It was for 
 that, perhaps, that you were brought into the circle 
 of my existence." 
 
 " There is no doubt about that and I consider myself
 
 392 AMERICAN NOBILITY 
 
 fortunate to have been chosen. I guessed everything, 
 some time ago. When I saw you entering upon the 
 dangerous and sorrowful path of passionate love, I 
 drew nearer to you, instinctively, so that I might be 
 able to help you." 
 
 "Well, then, the time has come," said the Duchess, 
 sadly. " It would be difficult for you to save me, 
 though." 
 
 " The difficulty does not matter, so that I can save 
 you. Tell me how matters stand. You need have no 
 fear, as you know I can understand it all." 
 
 Christiane was influenced magnetically by the kind- 
 ness and the moral force of this essentially superior 
 man, and she made her confession with a rare sin- 
 cerity. And the doctor, studying this woman's soul 
 thus laid bare before him, followed, with keen curi- 
 osity, the developments of the passion which had 
 ravaged it. He noted, with astonishment and admira- 
 tion, the various sentiments this passion had en- 
 gendered. When Madame de Blanzac told him of her 
 mad action, he turned pale with emotion. 
 
 "You really said that?" he said, trying to imagine 
 the frightful scene. 
 
 " Yes, I did, and to think that there are people who 
 will not admit that there are crimes for which passion 
 alone is responsible ! " 
 
 " People who have not studied the human machine, 
 though. Those who have studied it are only surprised 
 that these accidents do not happen more often. When 
 they do happen, they are willed by God, for some 
 reason which we do not know. You are one of the 
 women not created for man, but to command, and to 
 accomplish some great work." 
 
 " I think you are mistaken there, for I should have
 
 AMERICAN NOBILITY 393 
 
 been perfectly happy with a husband of my choice and 
 children." 
 
 "No, the happiness of married life would not have 
 sufficed for you very long. You have too pronounced 
 an individuality for that. The terrible awakening you 
 have just had will enlighten you as to your true 
 vocation. We will talk of that later on, though. For 
 the present, we must only think of averting the scandal 
 which threatens you." 
 
 The Duchess showed the doctor Jacques' letter. His 
 face lighted up on reading it. 
 
 " We are saved," he said, in a tone that was almost 
 joyful. " The young Marchioness evidently under- 
 stands that she will lose more than she would gain, 
 by making a scandal of it. I would rather know that 
 your secret is in her hands than in the hands of 
 another woman. She will keep silence out of pride, 
 and she is one of the women who can keep silence." 
 
 The doctor saw the expression of intense pain that 
 came into Christiane's eyes. 
 
 " Try not to think of the future," he said. " What 
 is the use of thinking about it, as we can form no 
 accurate idea as to what it will be. When we are young 
 and healthy, the idea of sickness, old age, and death 
 seems terrible. When these things come to us, we 
 scarcely feel them, because we are in the state of mind 
 and body required. If any one had told you what 
 was to happen to-day, you would have thought that 
 you could not survive it. You may be very sure that 
 you had been prepared for it a long time beforehand. 
 When you are yourself again, you will be surprised 
 that you did not suffer more. What you need now is 
 rest. I wish I could just lay my hands on you and 
 give you peace, but I am not Christ, alas! All I can
 
 394 AMERICAN NOBILITY 
 
 do is to calm your mind. I shall send you two cachets, 
 which you must take in an hour's time. I shall come 
 back, later in the evening, to see whether they have 
 produced the effect I hope." 
 
 " I have a better idea than that. I sent for you, 
 and I am supposed to have a very bad headache indeed. 
 Come and have dinner with uncle, and then, before 
 leaving, you can see me again." 
 
 " Agreed." 
 
 With this word, the doctor rose to go. On taking 
 the Duchess's hand, he raised it to his lips, in .token 
 of respect. This was a thing he had never done since 
 he had known her.
 
 CHAPTER XXII 
 
 JACQUES left his wife's room with the feeling that 
 he had just won a victory. The certainty that there 
 would be no scandal gave him such relief that he felt 
 almost happy. As soon as he was tranquil in his 
 mind, the love which he had thought dead awakened 
 again within him, in all its force. All the delightful 
 recollections of Christiane the last two years came 
 back to his mind, one by one. 
 
 " Fancy spoiling all that ! " he said to himself and 
 he shuddered as he thought of the extraordinary scene 
 which had taken place. The Duchess's violence, which 
 had broken all bounds, dishonoured two persons, and 
 wrecked two lives, had the same effect on him, with 
 his ultra refinement, as drunkenness would have had. 
 He felt a mixture of horror and repulsion at the 
 thought of such violence. His heart then softened with 
 tenderness and pity, as he thought of what Christiane 
 must have suffered. He wondered, with anguish, how 
 she would endure the situation in which she had placed 
 herself. He would be forced to side with his wife in 
 the pretended quarrel and to break off his friendship, 
 ostensibly, with the Duchess. Their mutual friends 
 would be sure to try to act as mediators and the secret 
 would then most certainly leak out. His common- 
 sense told him that an affair of this kind could not 
 be hushed up as easily as had seemed possible at first. 
 
 395
 
 396 AMERICAN NOBILITY 
 
 It was just a moment's respite that had been granted 
 to them before the final catastrophe. He wondered 
 what would be the nature of this catastrophe and who 
 would be the victim. 
 
 " God grant that I may be the only one ! " he said 
 to himself in all sincerity. 
 
 The next day, Jacques went to La Rosette, his heart 
 heavy with dread. Christiane did not come forward 
 to meet him, as usual. He found her in the drawing- 
 room, sitting near a window. The dark rings under 
 her eyes and her drawn features accentuated her re- 
 semblance to the Addolorata to such a degree that he 
 was struck by it. On seeing the Marquis, a painful 
 blush rose to Christiane's face. There was a sort of 
 embarrassment between them and they felt very far 
 away from each other for a moment. Madame de 
 Blanzac was the first to recover. 
 
 " Well, what happened? " she asked, looking straight 
 at him and speaking in a tranquil tone. 
 
 Instead of answering, Jacques knelt down in front 
 of her and, clasping in his hands the wrist he had 
 grasped so roughly the evening before, he exclaimed, 
 passionately : 
 
 " Forgive me, Christiane ! " 
 
 Madame de Blanzac looked at him for a few seconds, 
 with infinite sadness in her eyes. 
 
 " Forgive you ! " she repeated, " I am no more angry 
 with you than I should be with an instrument that 
 had wounded me. My resentment ought rather to be 
 against Him who decided my destiny and sent me, 
 yesterday, to that greenhouse. Resentment would be 
 stupid, though, as I do not know the reason of things, 
 nor yet the final word. I believe in justice and in 
 divine goodness. I want to believe in all that, and
 
 AMERICAN NOBILITY 397 
 
 such faith at the present moment is certainly meri- 
 torious. I only hope it may be reckoned in my favour. 
 Do you remember what you said to me the other day : 
 * Everything has to be bought and paid for.' Well, I 
 have simply paid, that is all. Do not let us talk about 
 that any more. Sit down," added Christiane, freeing 
 her hands. 
 
 Jacques obeyed mechanically. The Duchess's tone 
 and her face, from which every reflection of love had 
 disappeared, made such an impression on him that he 
 did not insist. 
 
 "What happened between you and your wife?" 
 Madame de Blanzac asked again, and then, with a 
 shade of irony, she added : 
 
 "Have you obtained forgiveness?" 
 
 " I did not ask for it," replied the Marquis, with a 
 certain dignity. " I simply told her the truth. I am 
 guilty, but I do not care to appear vile. I then offered 
 to give Annie back her liberty. She declared that, on 
 account of the child and of her family, she did not 
 wish for a divorce. I must confess that this decision 
 lifted a great weight from my heart. Neither you nor 
 I could have endured the scandal of a divorce suit." 
 
 " No, probably not." 
 
 " She has given me her word to keep absolute silence 
 about what has passed, and I am sure she will keep 
 her promise. She would be able to find as a pretext 
 for breaking off her friendship with you, the way you 
 had criticised American women. Every one knows 
 how susceptible she is on that subject, so that it would 
 be quite plausible. She is going to Blonay and you 
 are going to Deauville, so that, until next season, you 
 would not meet. Between now and then " 
 
 " Yes, between now and then," repeated the Duchess,
 
 398 AMERICAN NOBILITY 
 
 slowly, and then, as though suddenly seized with a 
 sudden fear, she asked : 
 
 "And did your wife not exact anything?" Chris- 
 tiane looked fixedly at the Marquis, as she asked this 
 question. 
 
 "Nothing at all. She merely stipulated that she 
 and I should live separate lives. That, of course, goes 
 without saying." 
 
 "You are still going to America on the first of 
 July?" 
 
 " No, all that is changed. Annie does not care to 
 go to America at present. She thinks we might go 
 with the Keradieus to Sweden and to Norway. As 
 she has often regretted that we were not going 
 with them, the change of plan will not seem very 
 extraordinary." 
 
 Jacques took a low seat near the Duchess and, 
 raising her hands to his lips, kissed them several times, 
 without her attempting to withdraw them. 
 
 " And what about you, Christiane, what are you 
 going to do ? " he asked, in a troubled voice. 
 
 " What am I going to do ? " she said, lifting her 
 head. " Oh, do not trouble about me. I have 
 put myself, body and soul, into the hands of Dr. 
 Moreau." 
 
 You have told him ? " 
 
 " Everything. He understands human nature as 
 well as a priest and he is quite safe. I needed a man 
 like him to help me, through this crisis either to cure 
 myself or to die." 
 
 "To cure yourself?" exclaimed Jacques. "Do you 
 mean to destroy the love which is all my happiness? 
 Oh, Christiane, you are not going to try that?" 
 
 " Would you rather I died ? "
 
 AMERICAN NOBILITY 399 
 
 " No, you have no right to take yourself away from 
 me again, either by death or by trying to forget the 
 past. You belong to me and you know how dearly I 
 love you. You are the one passionate love of my life. 
 The kiss that maddened you was only a husband's 
 kiss. Cannot you understand now? " 
 
 The Duchess turned still paler. 
 
 " Yes, a husband's kiss," she said, " a more divine 
 and holier kiss than that of a lover, the kiss thpt 
 creates. The one I had longed for from you," she 
 added, looking down again, while an adorable blush 
 covered her face. 
 
 Jacques was moved to the very depths of his soul. 
 He bent over her hands, which he was still holding, 
 and kissed them very tenderly and respectfully. 
 
 " I do not know," continued Christiane, " if I shall 
 be able to forget you, but I do know that I can never 
 again be yours. I had never really felt before that 
 you belonged to another woman. I can no longer 
 doubt it. You saw the effect that this brutal fact had 
 on me. Do you imagine that I could endure this 
 humiliating and painful sharing of your affections?" 
 
 " It is no longer a question of sharing " 
 
 Madame de Blanzac shrugged her shoulders. 
 
 " The separation of a husband and wife, living under 
 the same roof, could not last very long. Besides, if 
 you are to have any more children, you will be irre- 
 sistibly drawn towards Annie. She will forgive you, 
 because she loves you, and you will soon be in each 
 other's arms again. Such is life and such is the law 
 of things. I have gone against this law once, but I 
 shall not brave it again. For my own dignity's sake, 
 I give you back your liberty. It is not so hard to do 
 this now, of my own free will, as to be compelled,
 
 400 AMERICAN NOBILITY 
 
 later on, by circumstances. I would rather, too, that 
 our love should be cut off in its flower than feel it 
 slowly die. I am sorry about my violence, for Annie's 
 sake. At present, the contempt she feels for you will 
 dominate her grief, but her grief will reassert itself. 
 Poor girl, I feel as though I have hurt a child. If 
 she were only French, I would go to her and I should 
 be able to alleviate her sorrow, but I know that she 
 would not understand me." 
 
 " No," agreed the Marquis, " she would not under- 
 stand you and it would only make matters worse for 
 you to attempt to see her." 
 
 " Well, then, we must leave time to do its work. I 
 have promised Dr. Moreau not to trouble about the 
 future, but just to live from day to day. I am going 
 to try to compel my mind to this discipline. You had 
 better do the same. We cannot divine what will or 
 what will not happen. And now, mon ami" she added, 
 freeing her hands again from those of Jacques, " we 
 must say farewell." 
 
 " Never ! " exclaimed the Marquis. " I shall see you 
 again. You think you can uproot our love in this 
 way? Ah, no, it is too deeply and firmly planted 
 within us; it has become a part of ourselves. Do it, 
 if you can. I am quite easy on that score, though. 
 Everything here will speak to you of me and of us. 
 The memories which will emanate from every single 
 thing will affect you, will make you relent, and will 
 win you back again." 
 
 "If they are as dangerous as all that, I will sell 
 La Rosette, or I will pull the house down." 
 
 " You are cruel ! " 
 
 " Such is man's egoism ! You want me to go on 
 loving you, knowing that this love can only bring me
 
 AMERICAN NOBILITY 401 
 
 sorrow. You ought to want me to forget, so that I 
 might get back my peace of mind." 
 
 " No, I am not virtuous enough for that." 
 
 Christiane rose and, with intentional hardness in 
 her voice, said: 
 
 " We must break everything off." 
 
 " Give me some hope." 
 
 "No, I can give you none. You must accustom 
 yourself to the idea of a definite rupture between us, 
 and try to accept it as bravely as possible." 
 
 Jacques, who was also standing up, looked at the 
 Duchess a few seconds in silence. He had never seen 
 her look so charming, so absolutely unlike any other 
 woman. Under the influence of memories which 
 seemed to be a part of his very being, he took her 
 in his arms and pressed her to his heart, again and 
 again. She did not resist, but her lips remained cold 
 under his kisses, her body inert, and there was no 
 answering vibration. 
 
 Jacques' arms fell in amazement and he drew back, 
 his face pale with emotion. 
 
 " You no longer feel anything then," he said, in a 
 hoarse voice. " Farewell, if that is so." 
 
 He went away, without another word, possessed by 
 that savage anger which a man feels when he is de- 
 feated, an anger which dominates all other sentiments. 
 As soon as the door closed, Christiane stretched out 
 her arms. 
 
 " Jacques," she cried, with her whole heart and soul. 
 
 The drawing-room was very large and her voice was 
 lost in it. Christiane shuddered, for she had a sensa- 
 tion of utter loneliness and of the end of things. Then, 
 with her head bent and almost staggering like some 
 poor, wounded creature, she went away to her room. 
 26
 
 CHAPTER XXIII 
 
 ANNIE'S resentment had been somewhat lessened by 
 Jacques' confession. Although her happiness was over, 
 it was some consolation to know that she had not 
 been married solely for her money. She wrote at once 
 to her mother and told her, without giving any reason, 
 that their plans were changed and that they had de- 
 cided to go to Sweden and Norway with the Keradieus. 
 It cost her a great deal to write this letter, and several 
 times she had to wipe her eyes, as they were misty 
 with tears. 
 
 During the six weeks' excursion with her friends, 
 Annie tried to enjoy herself and to take an interest 
 in what she saw. For the first time in her life, there 
 was something in her very soul which seemed to deaden 
 all curiosity, make her quite indifferent to places and 
 people, something which took from her all enjoyment 
 of life. Her inability to get rid of this something 
 made her furious with herself. As she had said, she 
 was a bad actress, and it was very difficult for her 
 to appear natural with Jacques. When he spoke to 
 her, she always felt inclined to ask him how he dared. 
 By dint of tact and of his strong will, the Marquis 
 succeeded in making her play her part more easily 
 and give to their intercourse the necessary tone. This 
 was a great point gained. 
 
 The Keradieus were very much astonished to see 
 
 402
 
 AMERICAN NOBILITY 403 
 
 their friends giving up the journey to America in 
 such a sudden way. They were not long in perceiving 
 the difference in the young couple's behaviour to each 
 other. Monsieur de Keradieu said nothing, but he felt 
 sure that there had been a serious rupture and he was 
 convinced that Madame de Blanzac had something to 
 do with it. 
 
 It was a great relief to the young Marchioness when 
 once she was back at Blonay. She felt that people 
 really cared for her there. She felt a certain protec- 
 tion, too. in a whole crowd of things, in the affection 
 of her mother-in-law, the friendship of the priest, and 
 the respect of every one. The consciousness of her 
 own importance was a sort of compensation to her. 
 Her duties as lady of the manor took her a great deal 
 out of herself, so that she had not time to brood much 
 over the wrong her husband had done her and the 
 shameful conduct of the Duchess, and all this was 
 certainly for the best. 
 
 Jacques followed the line of conduct he had laid 
 down for himself unswervingly, and made no attempt 
 to regain the good graces of his wife. He went to 
 her rooms at the hour when the child was brought to 
 her, and talked then as though nothing had happened. 
 He rode out with her nearly every day, and did all 
 in his power to make the ride as pleasant as possible. 
 Annie had tried, at first, to repel him by her silence 
 and stiffness, but he had not appeared to notice this. 
 Although she received his attentions with studied in- 
 difference and a kind of disdain, they gave her pleasure 
 all the same. She never locked her door, knowing 
 that Jacques would never cross the threshold without 
 her permission. Whenever she heard his footsteps in 
 the corridor leading to their rooms, though, she always
 
 404 AMERICAN NOBILITY 
 
 felt a certain emotion, and when she heard him pass 
 by without knocking, her heart was very heavy. 
 
 Annie began to read novels which analysed the 
 passion of love. The various stories of adulterous love 
 made her suffer horribly, but still she wanted to know 
 more about it. Sometimes the book would fall from 
 her hand and she would stop, in the very middle of 
 the story, to reflect that it was in this way that her 
 husband had loved Madame de Blanzac. He had said 
 similar words to her, had taken her in his arms, and 
 she had been his. The idea of all this disgusted her 
 and she wondered how any wife could forgive and 
 forget. 
 
 Although Annie and Jacques were very much on 
 their guard in the presence of Madame d'Anguilhon, 
 she was not long in discovering that things were not 
 as they used to be. Annie was quite unconscious of 
 it, but her face reflected the resentment and the anger 
 and sorrow she felt. Her gaiety, too, sounded hollow. 
 She never spoke of the Duchess now, and if any one 
 mentioned her she would press her lips together, as 
 though to prevent herself from speaking, and her face 
 would take a hard expression. Nothing of this es- 
 caped Jacques' mother. She almost guessed the 
 truth, and all the more readily as the intimacy be- 
 tween her son and Madame de Blanzac had made her 
 rather uneasy. It was all in vain that Annie told 
 her the story about her quarrel with Christiane, on 
 the subject of American women. Madame d'Anguilhon 
 did not believe it, but she kept her suspicions to herself, 
 and was doubly kind and tender to her daughter-in-law. 
 
 Among the portraits of the Anguilhon family was 
 that of a woman, famous in all the eighteenth-century 
 memoirs. Though her husband was openly unfaithful
 
 AMERICAN NOBILITY 405 
 
 to her, she had never ceased to love him. When he fell 
 into disgrace with the king, whose minister he was, 
 she employed all the resources of her heart and mind 
 in consoling him and in interesting him in other things. 
 Later on, she defended him successfully before the 
 revolutionary tribunal. 
 
 Annie knew this story. She had often admired the 
 noble-looking face of the " Grande Marquise," as she 
 was always called. Jacques had once told her that 
 she was his favourite ancestress and that, as a child, 
 he had thrown her any number of kisses. This por- 
 trait annoyed her now. When she passed by it, she 
 would walk more quickly, looking at it sideways, in 
 a most comical manner. It seemed to be reproaching 
 her and she would say to herself, furiously : " I am 
 no heroine, it would be the climax if I were ! " As she 
 was very human, though, she could not help feeling a 
 certain satisfaction at the thought that other Mar- 
 chionesses d'Anguilhon had been treated as she had 
 been. They were French women and were beautiful 
 and witty, but they had had the same fate. This was 
 almost a consolation to her. 
 
 The Marquis d'Anguilhon went to Paris from time 
 to time, and Annie imagined that it was to meet the 
 Duchess. During his absence, she had a pang at her 
 heart all the time. When he returned, she felt sud- 
 denly relieved. She was ashamed of herself for her 
 weakness, but she could not help it. 
 
 Grief developed Annie's inner life better than years 
 of happiness would have done. Compelled as she was 
 to fall back upon herself, she began to reflect about 
 things and, as a natural consequence, she talked less 
 and thought more. She took great pleasure in the 
 society of the priest and liked arguing with him. He
 
 400 AMERICAN NOBILITY 
 
 tried to lead her towards the regions of Christian 
 idealism. She never went very far in that direction, 
 but, after they had talked together for a time, the 
 things of this world and her own grief seemed of much 
 less importance than before. She liked the way he 
 always called her " my child " and she began to think 
 that the blessings he was constantly calling down on 
 her must bring her happiness. 
 
 The Marquis was certainly more to be pitied than 
 his wife. His conscience reproached him for having 
 spoilt Annie's life and made a sort of widow of her. 
 His money, his thoroughbreds, his hunting equipage, 
 and indeed everything which he owed to her, weighed 
 on his mind. When, in accordance with a clause of 
 the marriage contract, he was obliged to sign one of 
 the big American cheques, he felt something very much 
 like shame. He could not help admiring Annie's atti- 
 tude. Not only had she religiously kept the secret of 
 his unfaithfulness, but she never made any allusions 
 which would have been hurtful to him, or indulged in 
 any little sarcasms which might have been some relief 
 to her own resentment. He was grateful to her for 
 this. The husband within him finally began to find 
 the divorce hard. He began to think how charming 
 Annie used to look on waking in the morning. Young 
 and healthy as she was, her face flushed with her sleep 
 and a halo of curly hair round her forehead, she was 
 certainly very pretty then, and never had the Marquis 
 felt her charm so much as now. When she was 
 nursing little Philippe, he would kneel down in front 
 of her and kiss the child passionately, hoping that 
 his caresses might touch the mother's heart. When he 
 met Annie's cold glance and saw her impassive face, 
 he felt defeated and repulsed.
 
 AMERICAN NOBILITY 407 
 
 On the other hand he could not forget Christiane and 
 he could not bring himself to believe that their inter- 
 course was over forever. He fully realised that his 
 life would be terribly empty without her. He often 
 wrote to her, but she never answered his letters, and 
 it was all in vain that he beseeched her to let him 
 come to La Rosette. 
 
 Between these two women, who kept him at a dis- 
 tance with equal tenacity, he felt almost ridiculous. 
 He was tempted to pack his trunks and fly to the 
 other end of the world. He began to think of Africa 
 once more. It seemed to him like a supreme refuge, 
 as it would give him the opportunity of rehabilitating 
 himself in his own eyes. 
 
 The Duchess really suffered much more than Jacques 
 and Annie. She had no child, no living consolation, 
 as it were, and then she loved the Marquis. In spite 
 of her efforts, her whole being yearned towards him. 
 His letters, which she did not answer, gave her that 
 sensation of violent happiness which had become neces- 
 sary to her. She drank in the love with which they 
 were impregnated and again she stretched out her 
 arms to him. She felt the absolute necessity of the 
 sacrifice she was making, though, and she tried to 
 resign herself to it. The remembrance of her mad 
 act was peculiarly painful to her. It humiliated and 
 crushed her and, every time she thought of it, the 
 colour would rise to her face, and she would ask her- 
 self once more how she could have done such a thing. 
 At times she hoped for the reconciliation of Jacques 
 and his wife and decided that she would help to bring 
 it about. At other moments she dreaded to hear that 
 it had taken place. 
 
 Absorbed by all these thoughts, which crowded to
 
 408 AMERICAN NOBILITY 
 
 her mind one after another, Christiane often looked 
 like a somnambulist. She was nearly always looking 
 down when she walked now, her eyes had no longer 
 their decided expression, and her whole body had lost 
 something of its proud dignity. Her friends noticed 
 how strange she was and thought her very much 
 changed. Guy de Nozay guessed that she had had a 
 great sorrow and that Jacques was the cause of it. 
 He did everything he could to divert her mind and 
 he succeeded in this sometimes. 
 
 Dr. Moreau went with the Duchess to Deauville. 
 He tended her physically and morally with marvellous 
 skill. He tried to make her use the great faculties 
 of her mind and he also tried to raise her in her own 
 estimation. He fought against Jacques' influence, 
 against love itself, pointing out to her that this senti- 
 ment, which concentrates all the thoughts of one 
 creature on another creature, is selfish and petty. She 
 would smile at this argument and answer : " Selfish 
 and petty, if you like, but all the same it is very sweet 
 and very powerful." 
 
 Philosophy and humanitarian ideas most certainly 
 elevated Christiane's mind, but they did not console 
 her as simple faith might have done.
 
 CHAPTER XXIV 
 
 NINE months had passed by. Annie had said that 
 she was no heroine and the abnormal existence that 
 she had accepted began to weigh upon her. It seemed 
 to her that she was living a perpetual lie. She was 
 hurt that Jacques made no attempt to obtain her for- 
 giveness. The idea that he had probably not broken 
 off his connection with the Duchess exasperated her; 
 and her irritation began to manifest itself by fits of 
 silence and a certain asperity. One day, when she 
 had said something hurtful to her husband, he looked 
 at her with a sad expression in his eyes. 
 
 "What is the good of that, Annie?" he said. " If 
 you can no longer bear my presence, I am quite ready 
 to give you back your liberty, but I cannot tolerate 
 that tone, either from you or any one." 
 
 His wife avenged herself by a disdainful shrug of 
 her shoulders, but the situation caused her still more 
 pain and anger after this remark. 
 
 The Marquis and Marchioness d'Anguilhon spent 
 the winter at Pau. Neither of them would have cared 
 to face the memories which Cannes would have brought 
 to them. 
 
 Urged on by the ungovernable feminine instinct, 
 Annie tried to excite Jacques' jealousy and make him 
 suffer in his turn. She began to flirt with a young 
 man, who appeared to be very much in love with her. 
 
 409
 
 410 AMERICAN NOBILITY 
 
 God only knew how little she felt inclined for flirta- 
 tion. The Marquis let her go on for some little time, 
 watching her from a distance. The day came, though, 
 when he pulled the reins with a very firm hand. 
 
 " You are playing a dangerous game," he said. 
 " This young idiot will soon compromise you. The 
 scandal would be worse for you than obtaining a 
 divorce from me, as the fault would be on your side." 
 
 Annie did not reply. She felt that she was in the 
 wrong and was rather ashamed of herself. 
 
 Poor Catherine was the one to get the brunt of her 
 bad temper. The old servant had been wonderfully 
 patient. She had thought, at first, that there had 
 been a lovers' quarrel, but, as time went on, she saw 
 that it was more than that and she guessed the cause. 
 She always looked at the Marquis now with such in- 
 dignation and reproach in her eyes that he did not 
 care to meet her. 
 
 Jacques dreaded the return to Paris quite as much 
 as his wife did. When Annie expressed a wish to 
 spend the season in England, he was delighted. It 
 was decided that they should take little Philippe to 
 Blonay, where Madame d'Anguilhon was staying, and 
 remain there until it was time to start for London. 
 They left Pau towards the end of March, intending to 
 spend four or five days in Paris. They both knew that 
 the Duchess de Blanzac was not yet back in the Rue 
 de Varenne. 
 
 On the day of their arrival, they lunched with the 
 Keradieus. The Baroness asked them, as a personal 
 favour, to go to a ball that was being given the fol- 
 lowing day at the H6tel Continental. It was organ- 
 ised by the Duchess de Retz and was for the benefit 
 of a new crdche. It was to be a very fashionable
 
 AMERICAN NOBILITY 411 
 
 affair and at the same time very exclusive. Annie was 
 always ready for anything that would divert her mind 
 from her own worries, so that she did not need any 
 persuasion. 
 
 The Figaro and the Gaulois had devoted a whole 
 column to this fete and had so well succeeded in ex- 
 citing the charitable feelings of some, and the vanity 
 of others, that the tickets were in great demand, 
 although they cost a Lundred francs each. 
 
 The next evening, the Marquis and the Marchioness 
 d'Anguilhon arrived at the H6tel Continental about 
 eleven o'clock. They stood still a few minutes at the 
 entrance to the large drawing-room, in order to take 
 in the general effect. 
 
 " It is superb ! " exclaimed Jacques, with a shade of 
 irony in his voice. 
 
 The gilding, the marble, the flood of electric light, 
 the gorgeous dresses with a profusion of jewellery and 
 diamonds made up a somewhat garish picture, in the 
 midst of which it was a pleasure to distinguish a few 
 aristocratic figures and just a few ladies dressed in 
 perfect taste. 
 
 Two foreign-looking young men were standing in 
 front of Jacques and Annie. 
 
 " What a nation ! " exclaimed one of them, shrugging 
 his shoulders. " There are no longer any people but 
 rastaquoueres and demi-mondaines," he added, in a 
 contemptuous tone. 
 
 These words were uttered in a low voice, but they 
 reached Jacques' ear. The blood mounted to his face, 
 his eyes flashed ominously, and his hand came down 
 heavily on the young man's shoulder. 
 
 " Monsieur, what do you mean ? " began the young 
 foreigner, turning round quickly.
 
 412 AMERICAN NOBILITY 
 
 " I mean that there are still some gentlemen in 
 France, and I am ready to prove it to you, when- 
 ever you like," replied Jacques. " Consider this a 
 challenge." 
 
 The two young men were completely taken aback. 
 
 " Monsieur ! " they both exclaimed. 
 
 " Here is my card," continued the Marquis. " In 
 half an hour's time, I shall be at the Jockey Club with 
 my seconds. You can send me yours." 
 
 The young man was visibly disconcerted by this 
 adventure. He bowed and gave his card in his turn. 
 Jacques took it, bowed slightly, and moved on with 
 Annie. She was very pale and completely upset. 
 
 " I am sorry that you should have been present at 
 that scene," said Jacques, " but I could not help it." 
 
 " You are going to fight a duel ? " 
 
 "Did you hear what he said?" 
 
 Annie nodded. 
 
 " And you ask me if I am going to fight a duel? 
 Why, there is no Frenchman who would not do the 
 same." 
 
 The Marchioness was hurt by her husband's tone. 
 She drew herself up and tightened her lips. 
 
 " Well, take me to the Keradieus," she said, trying 
 to speak indifferently. 
 
 When the Baron heard what had taken place, he 
 placed himself at his friend's service. The two men 
 left their wives in charge of a relative who happened 
 to be there and went to their club. They hoped to 
 find Guy de Nozay there and the stranger's seconds.
 
 THE Duchess de Blanzac had been summoned by her 
 lawyer on urgent business, and had arrived in Paris 
 on the morning of the day which was to end so 
 strangely for Jacques. Whenever she came like this 
 alone, she always asked her uncle to take her in. The 
 house in which he lived, at the bottom of her garden, 
 had a separate entrance, and this made it more easy 
 for her to come without any one knowing she was 
 there. On hearing that the Anguilhons, whom she 
 believed to be still at Pau, were in Paris, she was 
 greatly disturbed in her mind and she decided that 
 she would leave at an early hour the next day. After 
 dining alone with her uncle, she went to the Place 
 Vend6me, to call on one of her relatives, the Mar- 
 chioness d'Alby, a kind-hearted old lady who was 
 always at home to her friends every evening. 
 
 Towards midnight, some of the people who had been 
 to the ball at the Hotel Continental were telling about 
 it. Count de Rueil told Madame de Blanzac privately 
 about the Marquis d'Anguilhon's provocation and 
 added that a very serious duel would probably be 
 the result. By an extraordinary effort of will-power, 
 Christiane managed to master her emotion and to 
 learn all the details. 
 
 " You say they are all to meet at the Jockey Club? " 
 she asked. 
 
 413
 
 414 AMERICAN NOBILITY 
 
 " Yes, they are there now. It is very probable that 
 the affair will come off to-morrow." 
 
 Christiane was seized with a wild desire to see 
 Jacques at any cost. Her plan was soon made. She 
 slipped into the library, took a sheet of paper, and 
 wrote the following words : 
 
 " I have just heard what occurred at the Continental. 
 I must see you for a second. I am waiting for you 
 below, in my carriage." 
 
 After putting her note into an envelope, she returned 
 to the drawing-room, took leave quietly of the Mar- 
 chioness d'Alby, and managed to get away without 
 attracting attention. It was nearly one o'clock in the 
 morning then. Five minutes later, her carriage drew 
 up in the Rue Scribe, a few steps away from the 
 Jockey Club. She gave her missive to the footman, 
 with orders to deliver it into the Marquis's own hands. 
 Then she waited, her heart beating so violently that 
 it seemed to her she could hear it outside herself. 
 
 After a few minutes, Jacques came. She opened the 
 door for him herself, invited him to get in the carriage, 
 and then gave her orders to the footman. 
 
 " Drive slowly down the Boulevard and along the 
 Rue Royale, I will tell you where to stop." 
 
 " Christiane, my darling," exclaimed Jacques, seiz- 
 ing the Duchess in his arms, " how did you get here? " 
 
 " Oh, that does not matter," answered Madame de 
 Blanzac, freeing herself from his embrace. " When 
 are you fighting your duel? Do not tell me wrongly," 
 she added, imperiously. 
 
 Jacques hesitated a moment and then, meeting the 
 large blue eyes, so full of light, he answered:
 
 AMERICAN NOBILITY 415 
 
 "To-morrow, at nine o'clock in de Nolles* garden 
 at St. Germain." 
 
 "What weapon?" 
 
 " The sword." 
 
 Christiane breathed more freely. A duel with 
 swords seemed to her less brutal than with pistols 
 and she knew, too, that the Marquis was a good 
 swordsman. 
 
 " Who is your adversary, the gentleman who thinks 
 that only rastaquoudres and demi-mondaines are to be 
 found in France?" 
 
 " A very decent man. He is one of the attache's to 
 the Belgian Embassy. He is only about twenty-five 
 or twenty-six and he spoke thoughtlessly, rather than 
 spitefully, or with any real conviction. He has even 
 expressed his regret, I believe. The insult was to my 
 country, so that I could not accept any apology. The 
 arrangements were all made very quickly, so that I 
 hope to give the Count de Chastel what he deserves 
 to-morrow, and modify his opinion a little about 
 France. It will be a good day's work for me!" 
 
 Jacques' face beamed with the excitement of his 
 patriotism and courage. He looked much younger 
 than he really was at that moment, and the Duchess 
 gazed at him with passionate admiration. The thought 
 flashed across her mind that, if he were to be killed, 
 he would never belong to another woman. The next 
 second, she was ashamed of herself for having had 
 such a thought. 
 
 " But you have not told me how it is that you are 
 in Paris?" asked Jacques again. 
 
 " I was sent for on some urgent business. I in- 
 tended starting away again to-morrow morning." 
 
 " Without letting me know ? "
 
 41G AMERICAN NOBILITY 
 
 " Certainly." 
 
 "Oh, Christiane!" 
 
 " Do not let us talk about ourselves now. Does 
 Annie know about this duel?" 
 
 " Yes, unfortunately ; she was present at the scene. 
 I shall tell her that it is for the day after to-morrow." 
 
 Madame de Blanzac could not help feeling a thrill 
 of joy at the idea that she alone would be suffering 
 on Jacques' account and keeping the vigil that night. 
 
 They were now driving along the Rue Roy ale. 
 
 " Where shall I drop you ? " she asked. 
 
 " At the Club again. Nozay and Keradieu are 
 waiting for me there." 
 
 The Duchess gave the necessary order and the car- 
 riage turned in the direction of the Rue Scribe. The 
 Marquis put his arm round Christiane's shoulders and 
 drew her to him. The great silence of perfect commun- 
 ion of souls fell between them and they experienced a 
 moment of extraordinary and absolutely pure happi- 
 ness. The stopping of the carriage put an end to their 
 ecstasy. They gazed at each other for a few seconds as 
 though each would have liked to carry the other away. 
 Jacques then kissed the hand that lay in his. 
 
 " Farewell, my beloved one," he said, in a changed 
 voice. 
 
 " Farewell. Do not keep me waiting a minute longer 
 than necessary to-morrow, for the result. May God 
 help you ! " 
 
 The Marquis got out of the carriage, closed the door 
 after him very slowly, and then stood bareheaded until 
 it moved away. Christiane leaned forward for a last 
 look at him and then threw herself back in the car- 
 riage. She had felt that sudden wrench at her heart 
 which is the harbinger of eternal separations.
 
 CHAPTER XXVI 
 
 THE Marquis d'Anguilhon and his two friends went 
 back to the H6tel Continental from the Club. In the 
 most natural way possible, they explained that, as the 
 Count de Chastel had not been able to get his other 
 second, the arrangements would have to be made the 
 following morning. This seemed such a likely story 
 that Annie did not doubt it. During their drive home, 
 Jacques chatted in a lively way, in order to reassure 
 her. He did not succeed in diverting her thoughts 
 from the duel, though. 
 
 " Are you a good swordsman ? " she asked, suddenly. 
 
 " Yes, I am pretty good," he answered. 
 
 " And a good shot? " 
 
 " I am not a bad shot." 
 
 " What a horrible thing! " exclaimed the young wife, 
 as though talking to herself. 
 
 " What, duelling? What would an American have 
 done in my place? " 
 
 " Knocked the man down." 
 
 " Well, it seems to me that our method of proceed- 
 ing is less barbarous. In the first place, it rouses 
 courage, and courage redeems the insult and increases 
 the dignity of the one who has been insulted. I assure 
 you that duels do good. They stir the soul. A man 
 has to put his affairs in order, he thinks over his past 
 life and makes good resolutions for the future. He 
 
 27 417
 
 418 AMERICAN NOBILITY 
 
 may not keep the good resolutions," he added, with 
 a smile, " but at any rate he makes them, and that 
 is a step towards wisdom." 
 
 " Have you ever fought a duel ? " 
 
 " Yes, two." 
 
 "Ah!" 
 
 Annie longed to ask for whom and for what reason, 
 but she did not dare. 
 
 " What a good thing your mother is not here ! " she 
 said. 
 
 " She would approve, I am sure." 
 
 "That would not prevent her from suffering horri- 
 bly, if she only knew." 
 
 " She would suffer a great deal more if she saw me 
 take no notice of such words as we heard to-night. 
 You are not French, Annie, but I feel sure that you 
 would not have liked me to act otherwise." 
 
 " No," she replied, in a decided tone, " I should not." 
 
 " I am glad to hear that." 
 
 " When are you to see these men again ? " 
 
 " To-morrow morning." 
 
 " Will you promise to tell me the day and the hour 
 of the duel ? " asked Annie, in a broken voice. 
 
 Jacques hesitated a moment and then said, simply : 
 
 " Yes, I promise." 
 
 " Thank you." 
 
 This word, which implied such absolute confidence 
 on his wife's part, caused the Marquis s.ome remorse. 
 He was on the point of telling her the truth, but, on 
 reflection, he felt that it would be inflicting several 
 hours of intense anxiety on her. She did not realise 
 what it would mean and, considering the terms on 
 which they now were, he felt that he ought not to 
 allow her to suffer on his account. He therefore de-
 
 AMERICAN NOBILITY 419 
 
 cided to keep silence. On reaching the door of her 
 suite of rooms, Annie turned to her husband. 
 
 " Shall you lunch at home?" she asked. 
 
 " I hope so," answered Jacques, with a half smile, 
 " and if I do, Guy and Henri will be with me." 
 
 " Good-night," she said, and then, obeying an irre- 
 sistible impulse, she held out her hand to her husband. 
 He took it and clasped it heartily twice over. Annie 
 went quickly into her room, as though she were 
 ashamed of her action. Catherine was awaiting her, 
 as usual. 
 
 "Did you enjoy yourself?" asked the old nurse, 
 helping her off with her cloak. 
 
 " Enjoy myself ! " 
 
 This question was all that was needed to make 
 Annie give way at last to her pent-up feelings. She 
 sank down on an armchair and the tears, which she had 
 kept back all the evening, flowed freely at last. 
 
 " Miss Annie, Miss Annie, what is the matter ? " 
 exclaimed Catherine, in dismay. " What have they 
 done to you?" 
 
 As her young mistress did not reply, the poor woman 
 knelt down in front of her and began kissing her 
 hands. Annie drew them quickly away, as she very 
 much disliked demonstrations of this kind. Battling 
 with herself, she tried to regain her self-possession. 
 
 " Monsieur d'Anguilhon is going to fight a duel 
 to-morrow, no, I mean the day after to-morrow," she 
 said, in a firm voice. 
 
 Glad to be able to relieve her own feelings by con- 
 fiding in some one, she told Catherine what had taken 
 place at the Hdtel Continental. 
 
 The Irishwoman's face, as she listened, expressed all 
 kinds of feelings.
 
 420 AMERICAN NOBILITY 
 
 " Monsieur le Marquis was quite right," she said, 
 getting up. 
 
 " Yes, I know that, but he will be risking his 
 life." 
 
 " There is a good God above us and the Holy Virgin," 
 said Catherine, with all the conviction of that faith 
 which transports mountains. 
 
 Guided by her tact and by her almost maternal 
 affection, she succeeded in tranquillising her young 
 mistress. When Annie was in bed, Catherine kissed 
 her and said: 
 
 " Sleep well, my darling. I will go quite early to 
 Notre-Dame des Victoires. I will have a mass said 
 and a candle burnt." 
 
 This idea seemed so childish to Annie that she could 
 not help smiling. 
 
 As soon as she was alone, she tried to go to sleep, 
 but in the silence and darkness her brain was still 
 more active. The scene at the Hdtel Continental came 
 to her mind again. She saw her husband turn sud- 
 denly pale and she saw the savage expression on his 
 face, as he listened to the foreigner's words. 
 
 " Oh, no," she thought, " he would never accept an 
 apology, he is sure to fight." 
 
 She tried to remember the details of the various 
 duels about which she had read. A few weeks pre- 
 viously, there had been one on the Grande Jatte 
 Island, which had ended fatally. An illustrated paper 
 had given a picture of the young man lying dead on 
 the billiard-table of a restaurant. She had been very 
 much impressed by the horror of it and now the 
 thought of this picture quite upset her. Duelling 
 seemed distinctly barbarous to her. Just now, in the 
 carriage, she had been very brave, but at present she
 
 AMERICAN NOBILITY 421 
 
 felt quite faint. On seeing her husband threatened 
 by danger, she had drawn nearer to him, instinctively, 
 forgetting what separated them. The remembrance of 
 her grievance came back to her in all its force. How 
 could he have deceived her so basely? She could see 
 no excuse for him. Was she to let him go to this 
 duel, though, without a friendly word? That meant 
 that she must forgive him. She said to herself that 
 this would be impossible, but even as she said the 
 words the idea that it was her duty to forgive him 
 formulated itself clearly in her conscience. This sen- 
 timent of duty revealed to her suddenly the grandeur 
 of her title as wife. Her rights over Jacques were 
 very much above those of a mistress. The odiousness 
 of this name of mistress gave her pleasure. With 
 childish satisfaction, she recalled the fact that she had 
 been married three times: once before the Mayor, once 
 before the Consul of the United States, and then be- 
 fore the Catholic Bishop. The beautiful formula of 
 the English marriage service came to her mind : " to 
 have and to hold, from this day forward, for better, 
 for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in 
 health, to love and to cherish, till death us do part." 
 Ah, that was indeed a bond and she certainly ought 
 to forgive. How happy she felt, too, to be obliged to 
 do so! If her husband were to be killed, she would 
 then have no remorse. At the bare idea of the awful 
 possibility of her husband being killed, all petty feel- 
 ings vanished from Annie's mind and the love she had 
 tried to drive away returned in all its force, like a 
 ray of sunshine. As soon as she woke in the morning, 
 she would go to Jacques. She did not know what she 
 would say to him, but she was sure he would 
 understand.
 
 422 AMERICAN NOBILITY 
 
 As soon as she had made this resolution, she had 
 a sensation of infinite peace and well-being, and she 
 went to sleep with the divine joy of forgiveness in her 
 heart.
 
 CHAPTER XXVII 
 
 ON entering his room, the Marquis d'Anguilhon 
 gave orders to his valet to call him at seven o'clock 
 punctually, and then dismissed him. He sat down for 
 a few minutes near the fire and then, getting up, began 
 to pace up and down the room with long strides. 
 
 " Only rastaquoueres and demi-mondaines left in 
 France," he muttered between his clenched teeth. The 
 words once more roused savage anger within him. 
 He had thought that he no longer cared for this 
 republican France, ruled by the bourgeoisie. He had 
 paid his debt, in the way of military service, grudg- 
 ingly, and he had imagined that he no longer cared 
 what happened to his country. This evening, though, 
 when he had heard it insulted, the blood had rushed 
 to his face, as though he had been attacked personally. 
 He had realised then how dear it was to him, dearer 
 than mother, son, or wife, dearer than everything else. 
 And he was going to fight for his country. The 
 thought of this filled his heart with joy and lighted 
 up his face. The old saying which declared that 
 there would always be love, glory, and money for a 
 d'Anguilhon was proved true once more. The glory 
 had now come. 
 
 As he said this to himself, he sat down again near 
 the fire. His excitement soon died away. He thought 
 of the past and of the future and gradually, from the 
 
 423
 
 424 AMERICAN NOBILITY 
 
 very depths of his soul, came a longing to die. Life 
 without Christiane would be too painful, and with her, 
 too base. The impression he had had during their last 
 interview came back to him. He felt very distinctly 
 that they had seen each other for the last time, and 
 that their farewell had been final. Yes, he should 
 probably be killed. It did not matter, though, as he 
 was leaving a son, so that everything was satisfactory. 
 It would be a noble death, the noblest he could imagine. 
 For a few moments, a gloomy and sorrowful expression 
 came over the face of the Marquis. He was probably 
 thinking over all the things he cared for, and he still 
 cared for many things in this world. Then, suddenly, 
 as though the sacrifice were now made, his face lighted 
 up once more. He drew himself up with a proud 
 gesture and went across to his writing-table. 
 
 Jacques now made his will. With moist eyes, 
 he then wrote to his mother and to his wife. In his 
 letter to Annie, he confided to her the honour of his 
 name, his mother, his child, all that was most pre- 
 cious to him. He then wrote a few lines for his son. 
 When he had done this, he looked through his drawers 
 and burnt various papers. As he went on, his face 
 gradually became more calm and resolute. When he 
 had quite finished, he took a last look round, and he 
 then left his study, convinced that he should never 
 see it again. 
 
 The Marquis had less than three hours' sleep. This 
 was quite enough, though, to revive him. His bath 
 gave to his limbs the elasticity they needed. He felt 
 strong, in good form, and in possession of all his 
 powers. His eyes were bright and clear. Never had 
 any rendezvous in his love affairs put such fire into 
 his eyes, nor so triumphant an expression on his face.
 
 AMERICAN NOBILITY 425 
 
 Jacques was to go first to the Rue Vaneau and call 
 for Monsieur de Keradieu, Guy de Nozay, and the 
 surgeon. Before leaving, he went to the nursery to 
 kiss his boy. When he opened the door, the child, who 
 was already dressed, ran to him. Jacques lifted him 
 up, held him at arm's length for a moment, and then 
 stood him up on the table. He gazed at the sturdy 
 lad with great pride. 
 
 "Where are you going?" asked the child, aware 
 that these early visits of his father usually meant his 
 departure. 
 
 " Not far from here just now, but later on, perhaps 
 very, very far." 
 
 " Oh, no, not far," pleaded the little one, with a 
 distressed look. 
 
 " You must promise to be very good while I am 
 away," said the Marquis, in an authoritative tone. 
 " You must not give your mother any trouble and 
 you must always obey her," he continued. " Do you 
 promise?" 
 
 " Yes," answered the child. 
 
 " Then give me a kiss, one of your very biggest." 
 
 Philippe adored his father and did not require ask- 
 ing twice. He threw his little arms round his neck, 
 hugging and kissing him with all his might. 
 
 Jacques' eyes were misty with tears when he lifted 
 the boy down. He put his hand on the child's head 
 for a moment, in sign of blessing, and then turned 
 to go away. Philippe clung to his legs and looked up 
 at him, with the beautiful, golden brown eyes of the 
 Anguilhons. 
 
 " Not far away, please," pleaded the child. 
 
 The Marquis was very deeply affected. He freed 
 himself from the boy's embrace, kissed him once
 
 426 AMERICAN NOBILITY 
 
 more, and went away, without daring to look round 
 again. 
 
 " He will remember me," he thought, with satis- 
 faction.
 
 CHAPTER XXVIII 
 
 AT the very moment when Jacques left the house, 
 Annie woke with a start, as though warned by some 
 secret voice. She at once recalled what had taken 
 place the previous evening. She must see Jacques 
 before the arrival of his seconds. She sprang out of 
 bed and dressed quickly. At the thought of what she 
 was going to do, a furtive blush came to her face, and 
 her fingers trembled in tying her ribbons and arrang- 
 ing her hair. In spite of her anxiety, she looked at 
 herself in the glass and tried to make herself look as 
 pretty as possible. As soon as she was ready, she went, 
 with a beating heart, and knocked at her husband's 
 dressing-room door. As she received no answer, she 
 ventured to go in. Not only was Jacques not there, but 
 the room was already in order. It looked as though he 
 had not slept there. She rang the bell and, in reply 
 to her questions, was informed that her husband had 
 left the house without giving any orders. 
 
 She went back to her room, feeling sad and disap- 
 pointed, but without suspecting the truth. Jacques 
 had promised to tell her the day and hour of the duel. 
 This promise appeared to her sacred and she never 
 even imagined it possible to break it. She paced up 
 and down her room for a few minutes and then sent 
 for little Philippe. The child climbed on to her lap 
 at once, nestled up to her, and said, in a sorrowful 
 little voice: 
 
 427
 
 428 AMERICAN NOBILITY 
 
 " Papa gone ! " 
 
 " Gone!" The word was like a blow to Annie. It 
 seemed to echo in her heart. 
 
 "Where has papa gone?" she asked the child, in 
 an altered voice. 
 
 " P'raps very far " 
 
 Annie put the child down and, to his great grief, 
 called Catherine to take him back to the nursery. 
 
 She had been deceived once more! He had very 
 likely gone to fight the duel. 
 
 When Catherine came back from the nursery, Annie 
 asked her briefly: 
 
 " What have you heard ? " 
 
 " Nothing," replied Catherine, " except that Mon- 
 sieur le Marquis went into the nursery to kiss baby 
 before going out." 
 
 " Give me my hat. I am going to the Keradieus'. I 
 must know what is happening." 
 
 Just at this moment, Madame de Keradieu arrived. 
 She was about to kiss Annie, as usual, but the latter 
 pushed her aside abruptly. 
 
 " The duel was for this morning. You have all 
 deceived me. It is abominable." 
 
 " We wanted to spare you a cruel anxiety," said 
 Madame de Keradieu, gently. 
 
 " Ah, you do not know all that it means ! " exclaimed 
 Annie. 
 
 The thought that she had not been reconciled with 
 her husband caused her the most violent grief. Madame 
 de Keradieu tried to comfort her by telling her that 
 Jacques was an excellent swordsman, that he was in 
 very good practice, and that he had his two best friends 
 as seconds. 
 
 " What time is it to take place? " asked Annie.
 
 AMERICAN NOBILITY 429 
 
 " At half past nine. The meeting is at St. Germain. 
 It is ten o'clock now, so that we shall soon have news. 
 Henri is to send me a wire." 
 
 By way of diverting Annie's thoughts, Madame de 
 Keradieu told her all that had taken place at the 
 Club. Half an hour passed and still the telegram had 
 not arrived. The two women sat there waiting in 
 great suspense, and the silence that fell between them 
 was full of anguish. 
 
 Presently Annie heard the sound of carriage wheels. 
 
 " Here they are ! " she exclaimed. 
 
 They rushed to the hall and Antoinette de Keradieu 
 went outside to hear the first news. Annie stood still, 
 as though paralysed, gazing at the door. At the end 
 of a few seconds, her friend returned, accompanied by 
 Guy de Nozay. 
 
 " Do not be alarmed ! " cried the latter. 
 
 " Jacques ? " 
 
 " Safe, but not quite sound. He is wounded, but 
 not seriously." 
 
 Annie turned pale. 
 
 " You are probably deceiving me again," she said, 
 with trembling lips. 
 
 Guy took her hands in his. 
 
 " Look at me," he said. " Do I look like a man 
 threatened with losing his dearest friend?" 
 
 Annie felt reassured. 
 
 " Your husband is slightly wounded just above the 
 left lung. It is very likely that the surgeon will not 
 allow him to be brought back to Paris to-day. He is 
 at de Nolles' and in good hands. I have come to fetch 
 you both," added the Viscount, looking at Madame de 
 Keradieu. 
 
 " And what about Jacques' adversary? " she asked.
 
 430 AMERICAN NOBILITY 
 
 " Ah, poor fellow, he will have some difficulty in 
 getting over it." 
 
 Annie never thought of expressing any pity for the 
 Count de Chastel. 
 
 " I will go and get ready," she said. 
 
 On entering her bedroom, she found Catherine there. 
 Throwing her arms round her nurse's neck, she said : 
 
 " He is wounded. Go and burn candles at Notre- 
 Dame des Victoires. Pray to all your saints, do 
 everything, everything, so that he shall not die." 
 
 She, too, had become a child again, in her distress. 
 
 " He will not die, my dear," answered Catherine, 
 with her admirable faith. 
 
 On the way from Paris to St. Germain, Guy told the 
 two women all the incidents of the affair. 
 
 " It was one of the finest duels I ever witnessed," 
 he said. " Such courage and generosity on both sides 
 Jacques was foolishly rash, though. He positively 
 played with death. It is a perfect miracle that he got 
 off so well." 
 
 These words filled Annie's heart with remorse. 
 
 "Is this Belgian seriously wounded?" asked Madame 
 de Keradieu. 
 
 " I am afraid so. He was wounded in the region of 
 the liver. They were obliged to take him to the Henri 
 IV pavilion. I hope he will get over it, as much for 
 Jacques' sake as his own. It cannot be very comfort- 
 able, as Madame d'Anguilhon would say," added Guy, 
 with a smile, " to have a man's death on your con- 
 science, and especially when he is a very decent 
 man, as this one is. He had left a letter with his 
 seconds, in which he expressed his regret and offered 
 an apology. How rash and yet how fine youth is ! " 
 
 The nearer they got to the end of their journey, the
 
 AMERICAN NOBILITY 431 
 
 more disturbed was Annie in her mind. What sort 
 of a welcome would her husband give her? Would 
 he be glad to see her? How she would nurse him and 
 watch over him ! 
 
 A carriage was awaiting the travellers at the station 
 and Monsieur de Keradieu was there to meet them. 
 On arriving at the house, the Prince de Nolles wel- 
 comed the Marchioness with a few affectionate words. 
 
 " Summon up all your American coolness," he said. 
 " A wounded man is always an alarming sight, but I 
 assure you there is nothing to fear." 
 
 He then opened a door on the ground floor and 
 showed Annie into a drawing-room. She went forward 
 a few steps and then stood still, as though nailed to 
 the spot, her eyes dilating under the influence of the 
 strongest and most powerful sentiments in human 
 nature. 
 
 At the far end of the room, Jacques was lying with 
 closed eyelids on a wide divan. He was deadly pale 
 and his features were drawn with suffering. At his 
 side, with her fingers on his pulse, was the Duchess 
 de Blanzac. 
 
 This was enough to deprive Jacques' wife not only 
 of the use of her limbs, but of her reason. Her first 
 idea was to go away again, but on looking again at 
 her husband, she believed that he was dying. Remem- 
 bering that she was his wife, she resolved to assert 
 her rights, and she advanced towards the bed. 
 
 " This is my place," she said to Christiane, looking 
 at her unflinchingly, and speaking in a hard voice. 
 
 " I am aware of that and was waiting to give it up 
 to you. You can take your place." 
 
 As she said this, the Duchess rose. She had that 
 expression on her face which made her sometimes
 
 432 AMERICAN NOBILITY 
 
 appear, as people said, " crushing." She moved away 
 at once and, advancing towards the Keradieus, began 
 to speak to them of the wounded man in the most 
 natural way, without appearing to notice their looks 
 of consternation. The Prince de Nolles had not wit- 
 nessed the scene between the two women and he tried 
 to persuade the Duchess to stay to luncheon. She 
 declined and asked the Viscount de Nozay to drive her 
 back to Paris. 
 
 When they were on the way, Guy told Christiane 
 that, according to the promise he had made Jacques 
 before the duel, he had sent her a wire, and that he 
 was then going to take her news of the wounded man. 
 
 " Your presence there quite upset me," he said. 
 " How imprudent it was ! " 
 
 It was the first time that he had made a direct 
 allusion to her liaison with the Marquis, showing 
 that he knew the reason of her rupture with Annie. 
 Christiane coloured slightly. 
 
 " Imprudence? " she repeated, for the sake of saying 
 something. 
 
 " Yes, for you ran the risk of receiving an affront." 
 
 The Duchess laid her hand on that of the young man. 
 
 " You need never fear that, my friend," she said. 
 " You know very well that no one would offer me an 
 affront." 
 
 " Your being present at the place where the duel 
 was to take place will compromise you horribly. It 
 was very foolish ! " said Guy, crossly. 
 
 Like most men, he did not like a woman to trifle 
 with her reputation. The Duchess shrugged her 
 shoulders. 
 
 " If you only knew how little I care whether I 
 compromise myself or not ! "
 
 AMERICAN NOBILITY 433 
 
 "You have come to that?" said the young man in 
 a distressed tone. 
 
 " To that and much more. How much more, you 
 could never imagine." 
 
 " Well, but how was it you were at St. Germain? " 
 
 " Yesterday, about midnight, I was at Madame 
 d'Alby's and I heard what had taken place at the 
 Hotel Continental. I managed to see Jacques for an 
 instant and to make him give me the details. All 
 night long, my brain was working to such a degree 
 that I nearly lost my senses. I felt that I could never 
 stay quietly at home and await the result of the duel, 
 so I started to St. Germain. At eight o'clock, I was 
 at Monsieur de Nolles'. You can imagine his amaze- 
 ment. He tried his utmost to persuade me to go away 
 again, but I would not and he let me stay in his study. 
 I could hear all the coming and going beforehand, and 
 it was horrible ! " The Duchess shuddered and was 
 silent a moment. 
 
 " Some time after, I cannot tell you how long, I 
 found myself out in the hall, just as they were carry- 
 ing Jacques in. When they had laid him on the 
 divan, he stirred and his lips moved. I bent down 
 to hear what he was trying to say and distinctly, oh, 
 so distinctly, I heard him pronounce Annie's name it 
 was his wife he wanted " 
 
 The Duchess said this with such an expression of 
 grief that Guy's heart melted with pity. 
 
 " I was going away then," she continued," but I saw 
 that the surgeon was opening his case of instruments. 
 I could not go and leave him without a woman to 
 tend him. I stayed and arranged his pillows, wrung 
 out the blood-stained sponges, prepared the dressings, 
 just as a Sister of Charity would have done. It was 
 
 38
 
 434 AMERICAN NOBILITY 
 
 a new sensation for me and a delicious one. When I 
 heard him breathe more freely, I was satisfied. Ah, 
 to-day I penetrated to the very depths of a woman's 
 heart and I have learnt to understand our true nature. 
 We are nothing but mothers, after all, mothers of men. 
 whether they be babies or grown up. The idea then 
 came to me that, for the sake of Jacques' happiness, 
 I must give him up. I made my sacrifice and I then 
 waited for Annie, so that I might restore her husband 
 to her. Do you understand ? " 
 
 Guy nodded, without trusting himself to speak. 
 
 "You have pitied and blamed me, I know," con- 
 tinued Christiane. " Well, you can go on pitying me, 
 but do not blame me any more, for I have been pun- 
 ished as severely as morality could require. And 
 now, it is all over. I have abdicated. You saw me 
 abdicate " 
 
 " Like a queen," said the Viscount de Nozay, rub- 
 bing his eye-glasses energetically, instead of wiping 
 his eyes, which were filled with tears.
 
 CHAPTER XXIX 
 
 CHRISTIANE did not return to Blanzac. She sent for 
 her servants and took up her abode in her town house. 
 
 The Marquis d'Anguilhon's condition caused some 
 anxiety. He could not be moved to Paris for a week. 
 Guy de Nozay went to see the Duchess every day and 
 gave her the latest news of the invalid. When he told 
 her that the doctors had pronounced him out of danger, 
 she said quietly: 
 
 " I am very glad. That was all I wanted." 
 
 Madame de Blanzac had made a greater sacrifice 
 than Guy imagined. She felt that, as it was impos- 
 sible for Jacques and herself to be united, it was im- 
 possible for them both to live separated. From what 
 Henri de Keradieu and the surgeon had told her, it 
 was evident that Jacques had sought death. He 
 must have felt that death was the only way out 
 of the present difficulty. She had come to the con- 
 clusion that, if this were so, it was she who ought to 
 die, and she decided that she would die. For many 
 months, she had tried to accustom herself to the idea 
 of death, but when she actually came to the edge of 
 the abyss, her whole being, so full of strength and life, 
 recoiled instinctively. The sweat of dread and of 
 agony came to her brow, just as it had done to the 
 brow of Jesus. Those who maintain that it needs 
 more courage to live an unhappy life than to die have 
 not tried the dying. 
 
 435
 
 436 AMERICAN NOBILITY 
 
 Christiana's weakness was not of long duration. 
 What was there for her to regret? Her share of 
 happiness was exhausted. There would be no more 
 light, warmth, or love in her life. There was nothing 
 left for her but commonplace affections and the satis- 
 faction of vanity. Altruism might, perhaps, be a joy 
 and consolation, but she was not perfect enough to 
 content herself with this. Jacques and Annie would 
 be living quite close to her, in the very next house, 
 and she would be meeting them everywhere and would 
 have to move in the same circle. That, above every- 
 thing else, seemed absolutely impossible. The neces- 
 sity of disappearing from their path seemed to the 
 Duchess urgent, and she began to think out some way 
 of dying in a dignified manner, without causing any 
 scandal or giving rise to any suspicions. She did not 
 want her uncle and her friends to have any unpleasant 
 memories when thinking of her, and she did not want 
 her death to be spoken of in a hushed voice, as people 
 speak of deaths by suicide. She would not like her 
 friends to hurry by the spot where she had breathed 
 her last. 
 
 Christiane had always had deep religious feelings, 
 but as she grew older there were many things that 
 she no longer believed, and she had certain convictions 
 of her own. She did not believe in voluntary death. 
 She thought that the hour for the departure and for 
 the arrival was irrevocably fixed, so that it was not 
 in any one's power to advance or delay the fatal 
 moment. If she were destined to die by her own hand, 
 it was God who willed it so, and the order from on 
 high would come to her under the form of an 
 inspiration. 
 
 When once she had made her resolution, a great
 
 AMERICAN NOBILITY 437 
 
 calmness had come to Madame de Blanzac's soul. She 
 felt now that she would have the courage to die, and 
 the consciousness of this gave her a sort of pride and 
 raised her in her own esteem. 
 
 Dr. Moreau was glad to see her serene expression 
 and the elasticity of her step, which he considered an 
 infallible sign of physical and moral health. She had 
 told him about the scene at St. Germain and he had 
 congratulated her warmly on her action. It was a 
 kind of revenge that she had taken, and he attributed 
 it to the fortunate change in her ideas. Whilst he was 
 rejoicing at all this, Christiane was thinking about 
 her death and quietly arranging her affairs. Under 
 the influence of her resolution, she wrote long, minute 
 instructions to the future master of Blanzac. She was 
 very glad to know that Louis de Challans was worthy 
 of the position for which his uncle had destined 
 him. She knew the girl he loved and approved his 
 choice. She was glad to think that he would be able 
 to marry her. 
 
 The Duchess then made her will. This took her 
 several days, and she realised, for the first time, how 
 difficult it is to be perfectly just. She remembered 
 every one relatives, friends, and servants. 
 
 " How many people will be made happy by my 
 death ! " she said to herself, sadly. She appointed 
 Monsieur de Keradieu her executor and left him every- 
 thing at La Rosette, in memory of her. Christiane 
 then divided her private fortune into three parts. 
 The usufruct of one part she assigned to her uncle; 
 that of the second part to Dr. Moreau for starting 
 the various schemes they had planned together. She 
 requested him to continue them with the collaboration 
 of the future Duke de Blanzac. The third part of her
 
 438 AMERICAN NOBILITY 
 
 money was to be used in carrying out the schemes 
 and for legacies and pensions. At the death of her 
 uncle and of Dr. Moreau, her money would go to 
 Louis de Challans. In return for this money, he was 
 to continue the charitable works that had been founded 
 and to bequeath them to his children at his death. 
 
 La Rosette was to be pulled down and, on its 
 site, an educational home was to be built for twenty 
 little girls deserted by their parents. They were to 
 be taken into the home at a very early age and kept 
 until they were eighteen. On leaving, they were each 
 to be provided with a dowry of five hundred francs, 
 a trousseau, and furniture for a little home. All the 
 plans and the regulations for this Home were ready, 
 and Christiane wished to have her portrait, painted 
 by Chartran, placed in the parlour. 
 
 She then thought of herself. She would not be 
 embalmed, and she wished Toni to place her in her 
 shroud. The burial-place of the Blanzacs was on the 
 site of the old castle. It was on raised ground and 
 had a wonderfully fine aspect. Christiane did not 
 wish to be buried in the vault, but to the right of 
 the chapel. She did not wish to have either marble 
 or stone above her, nothing heavy, and nothing cold. 
 She wanted to have two coffins, one of light wood, or 
 of wickerwork, if possible, lined with moss. This 
 coffin was to be put in the grave, which was to be 
 very wide and deep and built up on the three sides. 
 Earth was then to be put over her, so that it might 
 be " dust with dust." She wished to have the most 
 beautiful rose-bushes from her garden transplanted 
 into this soil, but the roses were all to be red. 
 Around her grave were to be railings, and a large 
 cross of wrought iron was to be put up as a symbol.
 
 AMERICAN NOBILITY 439 
 
 This was to be all. There would then be nothing to 
 hinder the work of the resurrection of the body. She 
 would still have the sun and the air which living 
 people have, and she herself would become sap and 
 perfume. No, there was nothing terrifying or repul- 
 sive in all this. She smiled with pleasure as she 
 thought of the beautiful effect of the mass of vivid 
 flowers near the old chapel. 
 
 There was a kind of voluptuousness in these thoughts 
 of death and of the beyond, and Christiane revelled 
 in them more and more. Like her Addolorata, she 
 was holding a smiling mask in front of her real 
 face. She attended to all her social duties, paid calls, 
 and received callers. She was rather absent-minded, 
 sometimes, and what people said often seemed absurd 
 and stupid. She said to herself that she could never 
 again be interested in empty talk and she already 
 felt a long way off all these people and things. 
 
 The Duchess loved music passionately and could 
 not possibly do without it. Since her return to Paris, 
 she had not yet been once to the Opera. When the 
 evening for which she subscribed next came round, she 
 decided that she would take the Keradieus and Guy 
 de Nozay. She expected to hear Die Walkiire, but 
 there had been a change in the programme at the last 
 moment and, on arriving, she saw that Hamlet was 
 posted up. This name had the most extraordinary 
 effect on her. It seemed as though each of the big, 
 black letters stamped itself on her brain. She smiled 
 as she said to herself that not a single person in that 
 house could be better prepared than she was for hear- 
 ing the famous work by Ambroise Thomas. Alas, she 
 was only too well prepared for it. In the morbid 
 state in which she was, the music could not fail to
 
 440 AMERICAN NOBILITY 
 
 act fatally on her mind and on her nerves. All those 
 fine phrases, in which love and death can be felt, found 
 an echo within her. Her face turned pale and a 
 strange look came into her eyes. She leaned back, 
 so that she should not be noticed. The words of 
 Ophelia's song brought tears into her eyes and she 
 repeated them to herself. 
 
 The Viscount de Nozay saw her emotion and re- 
 frained from looking at her. He cursed Hamlet and 
 Ophelia, and Ambroise Thomas into the bargain, and 
 was greatly relieved when the Ope>a was over. It was 
 about the middle of April, but there was a very bleak 
 wind blowing that evening. Every time the doors 
 opened and shut, this wind could be felt, and the 
 Duchess shivered, in spite of her furs. 
 
 " Fasten your cloak," said Guy. " This wind is 
 enough to give you pneumonia." 
 
 " Pneumonia ? " repeated Madame de Blanzac. 
 
 " Yes, it is enough to kill any one after the heat 
 inside." 
 
 When he had put her into her carriage, she held 
 out her hand to him. 
 
 " Thank you, Monsieur de Nozay, thank you," she 
 said, with a strange smile. 
 
 He was rather struck by the way she emphasised the 
 words and he wondered what she had to thank him 
 so gratefully for. Poor Guy, if he had only known 
 that she was thanking him for suggesting to her the 
 way she might die. 
 
 The carriage turned down the Rue de la Paix. 
 Christiane then let down the windows, threw open her 
 cloak, and leaned back. The wind blew into the car- 
 riage and played round her roughly. She could feel 
 it on her beautiful shoulders, and on her bosom, throb-
 
 AMERICAN NOBILITY 441 
 
 bing with life. It seemed to freeze her moist skin, 
 her flesh, and her very blood. She remained im- 
 passible, enduring the biting cold, and then her lips 
 quivered and the tears came into her eyes. 
 
 " No, there is no such thing as voluntary death," 
 she said to herself. " I have been called and oh, it 
 is hard to die." 
 
 Just before reaching home, she put up the windows 
 again and fastened her cloak. She could be quite 
 tranquil, the work was done, and she was stricken 
 with death. 
 
 The next morning, Christiane awoke with a cold in 
 her head and on her chest. Her bronchial tubes were 
 already so inflamed that, when taking her shower- 
 bath, it seemed to her that they must be bare wounds. 
 She dressed and went out. The wind was as cutting 
 as it had been the night before. She walked along 
 aimlessly, went into the Bon Marche" and bought a 
 few things she did not want, and then returned home. 
 By this time she ached all over and could scarcely 
 walk. She made herself keep up, nevertheless, all day 
 long. When night came, she was glad to go to bed, 
 knowing full well that she would never get up again. 
 
 Three days later, it was rumoured, in social circles, 
 that the Duchess de Blanzac was suffering from con- 
 gestion of the lungs and that her life was in danger. 
 Great consternation reigned in her household and the 
 silence that pervaded it was of bad omen. The 
 domestics went to and fro as though there were no 
 longer any discipline to observe. Friends came in and 
 out without waiting to be shown into a room or 
 accompanied to the door. 
 
 Dr. Moreau fought the disease, inch by inch, gaining 
 an advantage for a few hours, but losing it again later
 
 442 AMERICAN NOBILITY 
 
 on. Christiane was delirious at times and she would 
 then cry out for the ice to be taken from her shoulders. 
 Dr. Moreau was surprised at this strange impression. 
 Guy de Nozay told him that the Duchess must have 
 taken a chill on leaving the Op&ra. He had seen her 
 shiver and had asked her to fasten her cloak. 
 
 " Yon recommended her to fasten her cloak ? " asked 
 the doctor, abruptly. 
 
 " Yes, I remember quite well begging her to do so." 
 
 The doctor made no further remark. He guessed 
 what had taken place, though, and he understood why 
 she had this persistent sensation of icy coldness. 
 
 " Poor woman ! " he murmured to himself, and from 
 that moment he despaired of curing her and he no 
 longer even wished that she should get well. 
 
 Between the fits of delirium, Christiane had bad 
 attacks of choking. Morphine was given to her and 
 this not only relieved her suffering, but gave her, for 
 the time being, remarkable lucidity and strength. She 
 took advantage of these moments for seeing her friends, 
 who took it in turns to be there, day and night. They 
 sat in the room adjoining hers. She frequently asked 
 for Louis de Challans, as she had so many instructions 
 to give him about her various charitable schemes, her 
 animals, and her grave. She spoke to him of his duties 
 and, several times over, expressed her wish for him 
 to marry Mademoiselle de Chinon. He listened to her 
 words, kneeling by her, and on his face was an ex- 
 pression of very real grief. On one occasion, she saw 
 that he was weeping. She held her hand to his lips 
 and said, with a smile: 
 
 " Those are beautiful tears, they are so sincere. 
 Thank you for them." 
 
 On the seventh day, Christiane confessed and took
 
 AMERICAN NOBILITY 443 
 
 the sacrament. Towards noon, Dr. Moreau sounded 
 her lungs again. His face turned very pale, for he 
 knew the end was not far off. His patient knew it, 
 too. She asked for Guy de Nozay, who was there 
 now night and day. She took a pencil and, asking for 
 a sheet of paper, wrote a few lines with great difficulty. 
 " Take this to Madame d'Anguilhon," she said to 
 Guy, " and bring her here to me."
 
 CHAPTER XXX 
 
 THE sight of the Duchess at her husband's bedside 
 had frozen up all the love and pity in Annie's heart. 
 Jacques had evidently not broken off his relations with 
 this woman, even after the disgraceful scene in which 
 she had denounced him. He had no self-respect at 
 all then. It had not been for the sake of sparing his 
 wife anxiety that he had concealed from her the time 
 of the duel. He had merely preferred to have his 
 mistress with him. Madame de Blanzac was French 
 and would comprehend his patriotism and his heroism 
 better than his wife could. An American woman 
 would not be able to understand all these grand senti- 
 ments. Perhaps not, thought Annie, but at any rate 
 she knew what honour and straightforwardness were. 
 She was indignant with herself for having asked for her 
 place at her husband's bedside. She felt that she ought 
 to have gone away again. The Duchess had seemed 
 to be restoring her husband to her. The idea of this 
 was the climax, and she decided that she would simply 
 leave him to his mistress and return to America. She 
 had friends there who appreciated her and she ought 
 never to have left them. She would just tell them 
 that she had been mistaken, or rather that she had 
 been deceived. She would take her child back with 
 her, as she would have the right to keep him until 
 he was seven years old. It was some satisfaction, at 
 
 444
 
 AMERICAN NOBILITY 445 
 
 any rate, to know that she had not married the Mar- 
 quis d'Anguilhon out of ambition. It had been a love- 
 match on her side, at any rate. How well it had 
 turned out, her love-match! Well, the lesson she had 
 learned might be useful to some of her countrywomen. 
 
 These thoughts filled Annie's heart with anger and 
 bitterness and made her childlike face look remark- 
 ably hard. For the next eight days Jacques' life was 
 in danger, and yet she felt no pity for him. She 
 tended him, nevertheless, with an alertness and skill 
 that won the doctor's admiration, but there was no 
 gentleness in the touch of her hands, and no tenderness 
 in her eyes. 
 
 Madame d'Anguilhon had received a telegram, sum- 
 moning her to her son's bedside. She was surprised 
 to find that the duel had not brought the husband and 
 wife any nearer together. 
 
 " That is not the way to win a husband back," she 
 said to herself sadly, as she watched her daughter- 
 in-law. 
 
 The idea of winning her husband back would cer- 
 tainly never have entered Annie's head. She might 
 have forgiven Jacques, and she had come very near 
 this, but to do anything with the idea of winning his 
 love again would have seemed to her like the very 
 depth of degradation. That certainly would have been 
 beyond her altogether. 
 
 The Marquis could not be moved for a week. The 
 state of mental excitement he had been in at the time 
 he was wounded made his recovery more slow and 
 difficult. He soon noticed the extreme coldness with 
 which Annie treated him. At times, she seemed to 
 him like a stranger and he did not like having her 
 there nursing him. He had a vague memory of having
 
 446 AMERICAN NOBILITY 
 
 seen Christiane near him. He thought, at first, that 
 he must have been dreaming, but finally, he felt 
 convinced that she had come to St. Germain and that 
 his wife had met her there. 
 
 When Annie heard of Madame de Blanzac's illness, 
 she neither felt a cruel joy, nor yet a guilty hope. 
 Whether her rival lived or died mattered little to her. 
 Jacques was unworthy of her own love and of her 
 forgiveness. He no longer existed for her, and nothing 
 could alter that fact. 
 
 She was in this frame of mind when Guy called 
 on her. On seeing his grief-stricken face and his grave 
 look, she had a presentiment that he had come from 
 the Duchess, and she steeled herself to hear what he 
 had to say. 
 
 " What is the matter? " she asked, coldly. 
 
 " Madame de Blanzac has given me this note for 
 you. You know she is dying." 
 
 Annie took the note with visible repugnance and 
 read it with compressed lips. It contained nothing 
 but the following words, written with a trembling hand, 
 which made the writing almost illegible and infinitely 
 pathetic : 
 
 " I am about to set out on the long journey. Come 
 and bid me farewell. 
 
 CHRISTIANE." 
 
 The young Marchioness could not help feeling a cer- 
 tain emotion, which she herself qualified as " horrible." 
 She endeavoured to appear indifferent, nevertheless. 
 
 " Is she really so ill then ? " 
 
 " She will probably not live through the night." 
 
 " Ah, well will you tell her "
 
 AMERICAN NOBILITY 447 
 
 " Nothing," interrupted the Viscount. " She wants 
 to see you and I am going to take you to her." 
 
 Annie made no reply. She was absolutely domi- 
 nated by Monsieur de Nozay's will-power. She went 
 to tell her mother-in-law and to put on her hat. Poor 
 Annie ! She was too simple-minded for all the extraor- 
 dinary things that were happening to her. The idea 
 Of an affecting scene alarmed her and was even repug- 
 nant to her. Christiane was probably going to ask 
 her forgiveness and it would be terrible. 
 
 " Oh, these French people," she said to herself, 
 almost angrily, " they must always have something 
 romantic or theatrical ! " 
 
 She slackened her steps, like a child, in order to 
 delay the interview. In spite of herself, her heart 
 sank when she entered the silent, desolate house which 
 always used to be so gay and so full of life. The void 
 one creates in the world is, of course, in proportion 
 to the place one fills. There are people whose voices 
 have no echo and whose footsteps leave no trace. 
 
 Christiane wielded her influence far and near. In 
 her own home, her individuality could be felt every- 
 where, in the arrangement of things, in the very per- 
 fume that was in the air. Her presence could always 
 be felt from the drawing-room to the hall-door. Now 
 that she was no longer there, there was an immense 
 void. 
 
 Monsieur de Nozay went into Christiane's room first. 
 A few minutes later, he took Annie in, and came out 
 himself. In the spacious bedroom, there were plants, 
 oxygenated air, plenty of light, and nothing to remind 
 one of illness. And yet, an indefinable something re- 
 vealed the presence of the dread visitor. The Duchess 
 was lying in her huge bed, the lace of the pillow-slips
 
 448 AMERICAN NOBILITY 
 
 forming a halo round her head. The satin counter- 
 pane was beautifully embroidered and just near her 
 lay a bunch of primroses, a branch of hawthorn and 
 other spring flowers, which she had wanted to see for 
 the last time. 
 
 Dr. Moreau, who could no longer refuse her anything, 
 had, at her request, galvanised her by means of a 
 strong injection of morphine. 
 
 The two women looked at each other for a few 
 seconds without speaking. The Duchess, still capable 
 of commanding a situation, said, in a voice that had 
 lost its ring: 
 
 " You see, Annie, I am just about to leave this world. 
 . . . My call has come and I did not want to go without 
 telling you that I am very sorry to have caused you 
 grief. I can do still more than that. I can give you 
 back a little of your happiness . . ." 
 
 Here there was a pause. The Duchess's breath was 
 getting shorter. 
 
 " In my fit of madness, I slandered Jacques. It was 
 not just for your money that he married you, for he 
 loved you. All that he said to you was true all 
 do you understand? How and why we were thrown 
 into each other's arms, I do not know I shall know 
 soon, perhaps I went to St. Germain without his 
 knowledge And let me tell you that when he came 
 to himself again it was your name that he uttered 
 not mine. It was you that he called because you are 
 his wife the other half of himself It is the wife 
 always who has the better part. Believe me, in this 
 world, where everything passes away, where every- 
 thing is fleeting, the only true thing is conjugal love, 
 the family All the rest is flame and smoke and more 
 especially smoke "
 
 AMERICAN NOBILITY 449 
 
 The broken, indistinct words were infinitely sweet 
 to the young wife. Her heart dilated with joy and 
 with pity. After a moment's silence, Madame de 
 Blanzac continued : 
 
 " You can forgive now. You must promise me to 
 make peace with your husband. I need this promise, 
 if I am to die tranquilly." 
 
 Annie could bear no more. The tears welled up into 
 her eyes and rolled down her cheeks. 
 
 " Oh, get well, get well ! " she implored, with a 
 sincere ring in her voice. 
 
 " God forbid. I have already gone a long way and 
 I would not turn back again now The most difficult 
 part is over You promise me " 
 
 Annie nodded ? not daring to trust her voice. 
 
 " Thank you. I shall send a few lines to Jacques. 
 And now, everything will be right. I want you to 
 be happy together and to have a beautiful little 
 family " 
 
 These words, which summed up all the pain of the 
 sacrifice, brought a fleeting blush to the dying woman's 
 cheeks. 
 
 " And now we are friends, are we not ? " she 
 said, trying to smile. 
 
 The hands of the two women met in a firm clasp. 
 
 " I am quite happy now," said ChHstiane, closing 
 her eyes. 
 
 Annie dared not move. She gazed admiringly at the 
 beautiful face, crowned by its heavy masses of hair. 
 The boldly-marked profile was more lovely than 
 ever, for it already had the supreme beauty of death. 
 When the doctor came into the room, she stooped 
 and kissed Christiane, with an almost religious 
 feeling. 
 
 39
 
 450 AMERICAN NOBILITY 
 
 " Good-bye," she said, " I will come back during the 
 evening." 
 
 Madame de Blanzac opened her eyes. 
 
 " Good-bye," she answered. " Yes, come back soon." 
 She spoke very quietly, as though in a dream. 
 
 On returning home, Annie simply told her mother- 
 in-law that she and the Duchess were reconciled. She 
 advised her to go at once and say farewell. Madame 
 d'Anguilhon was only too glad to go, for nothing had 
 been able to change the motherly feeling she had always 
 had for Christiane. 
 
 The scene that Annie had so much dreaded had 
 lifted her to a height that she had never yet attained 
 in her life. The joy of forgiveness, which she had 
 just experienced, made her feel as though she would 
 like to go back to the Duchess and tend her, and do 
 all she could for her. She reproached herself for hav- 
 ing been cold and stupid. She could not help admiring 
 this woman who was dying so bravely. How dignified 
 she had been! She had not asked forgiveness and she 
 had not humiliated herself. She had simply set mat- 
 ters straight and left the rest to Annie's sense of 
 justice. Yes, it was very fine and Christiane was a 
 true grande dame. It was not at all surprising that 
 Jacques should have loved her. If she had been a 
 man, Christiane was just the woman she would have 
 loved. What a poor, little girl she felt beside her! 
 
 Directly after dinner, Annie told her mother-in-law 
 that she was going back to Madame de Blanzac's and 
 that she might possibly stay there all night. She 
 coloured slightly as she said this. She took a bunch 
 of violets with her, which she had gathered her- 
 self. On arriving next door, she went quickly past 
 the gatekeeper's lodge and, not seeing any one in
 
 'AMERICAN NOBILITY 451 
 
 the hall, straight upstairs. On reaching the small 
 drawing-room, she stood still for a second, not daring 
 to move. The folding-doors, leading into the bedroom, 
 were thrown wide open and, at the far end of that 
 room, she saw a kind of altar, with a crucifix. A 
 priest was there in his surplice and, by the light of 
 the wax tapers, Annie saw Christiane lying quite still, 
 her hands clasped, and the paleness of death on her 
 face. At the foot of her bed was the Count de Creil, 
 whose grief was painful to witness. Louis de Chal- 
 lans was there, and also the Keradieus and Guy de 
 Nozay. A little further away was a group of servants 
 in an attitude of mingled reverence and sorrow. 
 
 Scarcely daring to breathe, Annie glided into the 
 room and knelt down quietly by the Keradieus. With 
 intense curiosity, she then watched the ceremony of 
 extreme unction. To her, it seemed useless and even 
 cruel. She did not know that, according to the 
 Catholic faith, the unctions on the ears, hands, and 
 feet of the dying woman effaced all guilty kisses 
 Jacques' kisses and all the forbidden delights and 
 caresses which had offended her. 
 
 As soon as the ceremony was over, she went nearer 
 to Christiane, and heard her murmur : " Symbols, 
 only symbols, but how beautiful and how consoling ! " 
 
 On seeing Annie, a glad look came over her face. 
 She took the bunch of violets eagerly, held it to her 
 lips, and then clasped the flowers tightly in her hand, 
 as though she did not want them to be taken from 
 her again. 
 
 " It was a nice thought of yours," she said, in a 
 far-off voice. 
 
 " Do you suffer much ? " asked Annie. 
 
 " No, on the contrary. I feel wonderfully free from
 
 45i> AMERICAN NOBILITY 
 
 suffering. Is it the effect of the morphine, I wonder, 
 or is it the end ? " 
 
 As she said this, she closed her eyes and fell into 
 one of those sudden lethargies which sometimes pre- 
 cede the long sleep. 
 
 Dr. Moreau told Annie that the Duchess would 
 probably be perfectly conscious until the very end, 
 and he added that the end could not be far off. She 
 decided to stay there all night. Guy de Nozay was 
 as grateful to her as though Christiane had been a 
 relative of his. Monsieur de Keradieu clasped her 
 hand more warmly than he had ever done before, and 
 looked at her several times with tears in his eyes. 
 
 The painful, solemn night passed by and, at dawn, 
 Annie went back home, shuddering. The awe of death, 
 the death she had just witnessed, was still in her eyes. 
 
 Jacques had had a very restless night and the Sister 
 of Charity, who was nursing him, had been obliged to 
 rouse Madame d'Anguilhon. She had not gone to bed 
 again and was now awaiting her daughter-in-law 
 anxiously. 
 
 As soon as she heard her enter the house, she went 
 forward to meet her. 
 
 " Well ? " she asked, in a tone that betrayed her 
 emotion. 
 
 " She has just passed away She looked so 
 happy." 
 
 " She is happy, my child, do not doubt that." 
 
 Annie's heart was full to bursting. She threw her 
 arms round her mother-in-law's neck, kissed her, and 
 then went away to her own room to give vent to her 
 tears.
 
 CHAPTER XXXI 
 
 As the Marquis d'Anguilhon was not yet able to get 
 up, it had been possible to keep from him the news 
 of the illness and death of the Duchess de Blanzac. 
 Nothing had transpired and not a word had been 
 uttered calculated to arouse his suspicions, and yet, 
 by a psychical phenomenon of more frequent occur- 
 rence than we imagine, he had been affected by what 
 was taking place in the next house. A nameless 
 anxiety took possession of him. Christiane haunted 
 his dreams. He saw her in danger continually, and 
 was not able to go to her rescue. He would wake up 
 with his face damp with perspiration and his limbs 
 aching, as though he had been trampled on. The im- 
 pression of this nightmare would often last all day. 
 The night of the Duchess's death, he had been assailed 
 by a mysterious fear and had asked to have all the 
 candles in the room lighted. He felt intuitively that 
 something was being concealed from him and he tried 
 to read the faces of all who approached him. He 
 fancied that the Count de Chastel had died, although 
 he was assured to the contrary. He noticed the 
 change in Annie at once. After three weeks of inex- 
 plicable and almost cruel coldness, she had come to 
 his bedside one day, with her old affectionate look in 
 her eyes. It was as though she wanted to obtain his 
 forgiveness. He wondered what was the reason of this 
 
 453
 
 454 AMERICAN NOBILITY 
 
 change. All this made him feverish and delayed hia re 
 covery. Finally, he was able to leave his bed and to 
 lie on the sofa. At this stage, the doctor said that 
 he could bear a shock without any danger. 
 
 Guy de Nozay wanted to give Jacques the letter that 
 the Duchess had left for him. The poor fellow was 
 heart-broken at the loss of the woman who had won 
 the deepest affection of his life. One morning, on 
 entering his friend's room, he had taken no pains to 
 disguise his true feelings. The Marquis saw that 
 something was wrong and did not give him time to 
 speak. 
 
 " Bad news? " he asked. " Is Chastel dead? " 
 
 " No, he is quite out of danger, fortunately. That 
 would have been the finishing touch " 
 
 "What is it then? What is happening? There is 
 something, I know. I can feel it. Is it Madame de 
 Blanzac?" 
 
 As he uttered this name, light seemed suddenly to 
 dawn on him and he turned deadly pale. 
 
 " Christiane? " he asked. 
 
 " Christiane, yes, you have guessed rightly." 
 
 "She has killed herself?" exclaimed the Marquis, 
 letting his secret dread escape his lips. 
 
 "No, no, thank God, it is not that. She took a 
 chill on leaving the Ope"ra. Congestion of the lung* 
 set in Dr. Moreau did all he could to save her 
 but he could not and after a week's illness site 
 succumbed . . ." 
 
 Guy had spoken slowly and hesitated between his 
 sentences, so that the terrible news should not be too 
 sudden for his friend. 
 
 " Dead ? she, dead ? " exclaimed Jacques, his eyes 
 dilating with horror and his body trembling con-
 
 AMEEICAN NOBILITY 455 
 
 vulsively. " Dead," he. began again, " oh, it is not 
 possible ! " 
 
 He wiped the great drops of perspiration away from 
 his forehead as he spoke. 
 
 " Alas, it is only too true." 
 
 There was a long silence between the two men. 
 
 " You knew that she was dying and you did not 
 tell me? " said the Marquis, at last. 
 
 " What good would it have done, my poor friend, 
 as you could not go to her ? " 
 
 " I should have gone. I would have found the neces- 
 sary strength." 
 
 Then drawing himself up, he asked, in a lower 
 voice : 
 
 " You have something for me, have you not? " 
 
 Guy held out Cbristiane's letter, which was fastened 
 with a large, red seal. Jacques took it with trembling 
 fingers and clasped it tightly in his hand, as though 
 he wanted to feel it and make it enter into his very 
 flesh. 
 
 " I thought she would not have gone without leaving 
 a line for me, that would have been too cruel." 
 
 Guy rose to go away, but Jacques asked him to 
 stay. 
 
 " Tell me everything now," he said. " Let me know 
 all that happened after that unfortunate duel." 
 
 Guy saw that it would be better to finish with the 
 details at once. He told him how the Duchess had 
 taken the chill. He described her illness and her 
 peaceful end. 
 
 " Oh, she was so happy to die," he said, " that if I 
 had had the power to bring her back to life, I should 
 not have dared." 
 
 Guy then spoke of the numerous tokens of affection
 
 456 AMERICAN NOBILITY 
 
 and respect that she had received. He told Jacques 
 about her will and about the intense grief of Louis 
 de Challans and of the Count de Creil. All these 
 things, painful and consoling at the same time, moved 
 Jacques to the very depth of his soul. His face flushed 
 and turned pale as he listened, and there was an 
 expression in his eyes that was pitiful to see. 
 
 " I must tell you too," said Guy, " that your wife 
 behaved admirably. The Duchess asked her to go and 
 see her. She not only went, but she spent the last 
 night with her. Her presence at the funeral, and her 
 evident grief, served to contradict the suspicions which 
 her quarrel with Madame de Blanzac had roused. She 
 did all this in the most natural way possible, and 
 with a simplicity that charmed me. She may not be 
 able to turn fine phrases, but she certainly knows how 
 to act, and very nobly, too, I must say. If only on 
 her account, you ought to pull yourself together and 
 conquer your grief." 
 
 " I will do my best," said the Marquis. " What a 
 void in that house and at Blanzac!" he added, with 
 a shudder. 
 
 " It is terrible," agreed Guy. " Ah, what a place she 
 filled, our poor, great Christiane. Do you know that 
 I have lost more than you have? " 
 
 " More than I have ? " 
 
 " Yes, it is possible to find another woman, a dozen 
 more women, but not another friend such as she was. 
 I feel utterly forsaken. There are bad moments in 
 life and both you and I are having one of those bad 
 moments now. Well, I must go," said Guy, getting 
 up as he spoke. " Good-bye." 
 
 The two men grasped hands without uttering a 
 word.
 
 AMERICAN NOBILITY 457 
 
 "Give orders that I am not to be disturbed, under 
 any pretext, until I ring," said the Marquis, just as 
 Guy reached the door. 
 
 " You are not going to do anything foolish, I hope? " 
 said Guy, turning and looking at his friend. 
 
 " No, you can be easy on that score." 
 
 When once he was alone, the Marquis kissed Chris- 
 tiane's letter, opened it slowly, and began to read it. 
 The letters seemed to enter his brain without making 
 any sense, but finally he began to understand. The 
 tenderness and consolation which emanated from these 
 few lines of farewell went straight to his very soul 
 and soothed it, bringing tears to his eyes, tears which 
 gave him relief. 
 
 " Jacques," wrote the Duchess, " God has called me 
 and I cannot leave this world without saying farewell 
 to you. Things are all ending in the right way and 
 I am glad of it. I have always believed in God's 
 justice and now I believe in His mercy. It will be 
 a great grief to you to find me gone. I know this, 
 for I feel it. Remember, though, that I am at rest. 
 Time will then do its work and l the dead are soon 
 gone.' Do some good in the world, in memory of me. 
 I should like my memory to be of some use in the 
 world. As far as it is in my power, I am repairing 
 the harm I did you. I am sorry to have disturbed 
 Annie's happiness. I cannot regret my love for you 
 and I have no remorse. I have left you the Addo- 
 lorata. It was most certainly I myself. Put her in 
 the darkest corner of your study, so that no one shall 
 see the real face. How painful it was, the wearing 
 of that mask! 
 
 " Instead of a kiss, I send you a blessing. I have
 
 458 AMERICAN NOBILITY 
 
 a right to do this as a dying woman. May God give 
 you sons sons as handsome and strong as you could 
 wish. You see, Jacques, that I am at last above all 
 jealousy, above all petty feelings. I had to mount very 
 high, in order to get above all this. I had to reach 
 the very gate of death. I am there now and I no 
 longer hear all the noise of this world. I shall very 
 soon see no one else but you, as yours will be the 
 last face left in my mind. 
 
 " Adieu I dare not say au revoir, 
 
 " CHRISTIANB." 
 
 The Duchess had written these lines on the second 
 day of her illness. The evening before her death she 
 added the following postscript: 
 
 " Annie has just left me. All is right between us 
 perfect peace. The worst things are more terrible 
 from afar than when we are near to them." 
 
 Jacques' head fell back on his cushions and he re- 
 mained a long time motionless, with his eyes closed. 
 This then was the cause of the anguish he had felt. 
 She was dying just a few steps away from him. All 
 the impressions he had bad during their last interview 
 came back to his mind. Christiane in the carriage 
 by him, with the sweet warmth of life in her body. 
 He remembered her subtle perfume and the soft 
 material in which she was clad. He saw the half-open 
 cloak, the sparkle of her diamonds, and her proud 
 head above her big fur collar. How her eyes had 
 gleamed in the dark carriage and how large the pupils 
 had looked! And now he should never see her again, 
 never. She would always be absent. She had been
 
 AMERICAN NOBILITY 459 
 
 stolen from him during his illness; yes, she had 
 been literally stolen from him. Ah, then he had not 
 been dreaming. She had actually come to St. Germain 
 arid it was she whom he had seen bending over him. For 
 a long time, he remained plunged in his painful medi- 
 tation. He read the Duchess's letter once again and 
 then, getting up with difficulty, he dragged himself 
 across to his desk, and locked it up in one of the 
 drawers. 
 
 And now, he must see Annie. It would be horribly 
 painful, but he must see her. She had forgiven Chris- 
 tiane, but would she forgive him? He was grateful 
 to her for what she had done. What a good creature 
 she really was ! With this thought in his mind, Jacques 
 rang the bell, and sent to ask his wife if she would 
 come to him. 
 
 Annie knew the reason of Guy's visit and had been 
 waiting, in fear and trembling, for her husband's sum- 
 mons. She wanted this interview and yet she dreaded 
 it. She felt that she had acted very well and, like 
 a child, she wanted to be told so. On the other hand, 
 the situation would be embarrassing. She knew that 
 she would be speechless and that she would never be 
 able to find the words for saying what she wanted 
 to say. 
 
 She was very nervous and very much excited when 
 she entered her husband's room. On seeing his deadly 
 paleness and his drawn features, she had a pang at 
 her heart. 
 
 Jacques pointed to a seat near his sofa and she sat 
 down. 
 
 " You know what I have just heard," he said, in a 
 changed voice. " It is a great trouble to me. I can- 
 not help that. After the way you have behaved in
 
 460 AMERICAN NOBILITY 
 
 this, it would be an insult to you for me to dissemble. 
 Do not be offended by my grief." 
 
 "Offended? Why, no, that would be absurd. You 
 would be an extraordinary sort of man if the death 
 of a person, for whose sake you had forgotten so much, 
 could be indifferent to you. If Madame de Blanzac 
 had lived, I should have found a way to give you 
 back your liberty. I should have gone back to 
 America." 
 
 Jacques laid his hand on Annie's. 
 
 " And how can you tell whether I should have 
 allowed you to go ? " he said, with emotion. " You 
 are the Marchioness d'Anguilhon, the other half of 
 myself, the mother of my son. Those are ties which 
 could not be lightly broken. I should never have been 
 happy, separated from you." 
 
 An expression of pleasure lighted up Annie's face. 
 
 "Jacques," she began and then stopped abruptly, 
 blushing and evidently very much confused. " I pro- 
 mised Christiane to make it all up with you, to forget 
 the past. I am ready to do this " 
 
 " Merely because you promised ? " 
 
 " Because I love you," replied the young Mar- 
 chioness, simply. 
 
 Jacques was more touched by this answer than he 
 cared to show. He raised the hand he was holding to 
 his lips and kissed it. 
 
 " Those are good words to hear, Annie," he said. 
 
 " Madame de Blanzac assured me that I had the 
 better part. She must have known and I am begin- 
 ning to believe she was right. She told me, too, that 
 she had slandered you, that you did not marry me 
 only for my money, and that you really loved me. She 
 took a big thorn out of my heart when she said that.
 
 AMERICAN NOBILITY 461 
 
 The idea that you had been lying and acting a part 
 was more painful to me than all the rest." 
 
 " And you will have confidence again ? " 
 
 " Yes. You see, I have been thinking about things 
 a great deal lately. It is quite true, perhaps, that 
 you could not help what happened. A great passion 
 must be a kind of malady, like typhus fever and small- 
 pox. It never comes a second time in one's life, I hope. 
 Does it?" 
 
 " No, thank Heaven, no." 
 
 " Well, you must have been thoroughly vaccinated 
 then, so that I shall be quite tranquil in my mind." 
 
 She said this so seriously that a smile came to 
 Jacques' lips. 
 
 " You may be quite tranquil, I assure you. Then, 
 too, when a thing of this kind does not separate a 
 husband and wife forever, it brings them nearer to 
 each other. I feel that you are nearer to me than 
 you have ever been." 
 
 " All the same," said Annie, after a moment's re- 
 flection, " I fancy that only a Frenchwoman could 
 ever really understand a Frenchman." 
 
 Just as she said this, Madame d'Anguilhon came into 
 the room. On seeing the husband and wife hand in 
 hand, she was going out again, but her son begged 
 her to stay. 
 
 " Come here, mother," he said. " We have something 
 to tell you which will make you happy. You must 
 have noticed that we were no longer on the same terms 
 as formerly," he began, in an embarrassed tone. 
 
 " Yes, and it grieved me very much to see this." 
 
 " Well, we are friends again. I had broken certain 
 promises and caused Annie much sorrow, but she has 
 forgiven "
 
 462 AMERICAN NOBILITY 
 
 " Like all the Marchionesses d'Anguilhon," said the 
 Dowager Marchioness, laying her hand on her daughter- 
 in-law's shoulder. " It is all the more noble of you, 
 my child, as you have been brought up with different 
 ideas and you have made such sacrifices for your 
 husband's sake." 
 
 " Oh, I do not regret them, I have never regretted 
 them," replied Annie, eagerly. 
 
 " You must go and spend a few months in America," 
 said Madame d'Anguilhon. " You might travel with 
 the Keradieus, as they are not going until the end of 
 June. Jacques will have time to get quite well." 
 
 Annie looked at her husband anxiously. 
 
 " Yes, we will certainly go to America," he said. 
 " It was my intention to propose the same thing." 
 
 Annie's face beamed with joy. She would have 
 liked to kiss Jacques' hand, but she did not dare. 
 She pressed it against her cheek, with a delightful 
 feeling of possession. 
 
 " I am so happy," she said, gently.
 
 CHAPTER XXXII 
 
 MADAME D'ANGUILHON was too much a woman not 
 to know that the neighbourhood of Christiane's house 
 was very bad for her son just then. She asked the 
 doctor to order him away to Blonay at once, and 
 Jacques did not raise any objection. 
 
 His convalescence had been interrupted by the shock 
 he had had, so that for some weeks neither the open 
 air nor the forces of the spring season took any effect 
 on him. 
 
 Jacques had seen Madame de Blanzac for the last 
 time in excellent health. Her death seemed to him, 
 at times, impossible, and at other times, mysterious. 
 He did not believe in the alleged congestion of the 
 lungs. The more he reread her farewell letter, the 
 more convinced he was that she had tried to die, and 
 that something was being concealed from him. He 
 could see her distinctly, as she was after that terrible 
 scene. He saw her walk away through the long suite 
 of reception rooms, gradually look smaller, and then 
 disappear altogether. This impression, standing out 
 so curiously in his brain, gave him a sensation of 
 utter desolation. He did not know that his love had 
 then received its death-blow and that he would never 
 have found the same happiness again with Christiane. 
 He did not know how merciful God had been in call- 
 ing her back to Him. He could not possibly know 
 
 463
 
 4(>4 AMERICAN NOBILITY 
 
 all this and he deplored her loss passionately. 
 grief and the morbid thoughts it engendered had the 
 most baneful effect on him, physically and mentally. 
 He always felt extremely weary, he slept badly, and 
 the paleness of anaemia could be seen on his face. He 
 took no interest in anything, not even in Blonay and 
 its life. Out of delicacy, he made a great effort to 
 hide his sadness when Annie and his mother were 
 present. He had never appreciated his wife's char- 
 acter as much as during this trying time. She did 
 not ask him any embarrassing questions, nor did she 
 torment him with little attentions and he was deeply 
 grateful to her for her tact. 
 
 The joy of being reconciled with her husband, and 
 the thought of seeing her family again, drove all pain- 
 ful memories away from Annie's mind. Jacques' 
 changed looks did not alarm or distress her very much. 
 She was quite sure that the sea voyage to America 
 would quite cure him. One thing alone made her 
 anxious, and that was that he never spoke of their 
 departure. She was afraid lest he should find some 
 pretext, at the last moment, for staying behind at 
 Blonay, and sending her with the Keradieus. She was 
 always throwing out feelers, after the manner of 
 women. 
 
 " We will do this or that," she would say, " when 
 we are in New York." 
 
 " Yes," he would reply, invariably, " anything you 
 like." 
 
 The way in which he said this was not very encourag- 
 ing. Annie could not understand that the idea of 
 visiting a new country, and such a country as America, 
 should be a matter of such indifference to him. 
 
 No, Jacques cared little, just now, about the bay
 
 AMERICAN NOBILITY 465 
 
 of New York, Brooklyn Bridge, or any of the great 
 sights of the New World. All he wanted was to go 
 and kneel at Christiane's grave and to feel that he was 
 near her for a few moments. He thought of this, day 
 and night, and he could not start before he had been 
 there. He did not like to tell his wife of his intention 
 to go to Blanzac and he knew that she would feel 
 hurt if he went without telling her. 
 
 The young Marchioness had been wise enough not 
 to banish Christiane's name from their conversation. 
 She often spoke of her with her old admiration, as of 
 a dear friend. The first time she had mentioned her, 
 Jacques had looked at her in astonishment and had 
 felt wounded, for it had seemed to him like a pro- 
 fanation. Was she already so far away that Annie 
 should dare to speak of her like that? Simple natures 
 are always somewhat disconcerting to complex 
 ones. 
 
 One evening, when Jacques was pretending to read, 
 in order to avoid having to talk, Annie suddenly 
 said: 
 
 " Jacques, shall you not go to Blanzac before we 
 leave? We only have ten days now, remember." 
 
 Her husband started and let his book fall from his 
 hand. 
 
 "To Blanzac?" he repeated, his face turning red. 
 "Yes, I had thought of going you do not mind?" 
 
 " No, what I should mind would be if, out of con- 
 sideration for me, you refrained from going, and when 
 we were once in America you should begin to regret 
 it. You would be quite capable of shortening our 
 stay, or of leaving me in the lurch out there, while 
 yon came back to go to Blanzac. I am beginning to 
 know you," she added, with a smile. 
 30
 
 46C AMERICAN NOBILITY 
 
 Jacques rose from his seat and paced up and down 
 the room for a few minutes, trying to master his 
 emotion. 
 
 Well," he said, at last, I think I will go to- 
 morrow. I will stay the night in Paris and get back 
 here the day after." 
 
 Then, like a child who, after obtaining some coveted 
 permission, feels inclined to do everything he is asked 
 and more besides he added: 
 
 " When I get back, I will finish all my arrangements. 
 I have been dreadfully lazy, lately. How are you 
 getting on with your preparations?" 
 
 " Oh, I am nearly ready. Neither Catherine nor I 
 needed any urging on, I can assure you. I warn you 
 that we shall have an awful amount of luggage." 
 
 Ah, how little he cared now how much luggage they 
 had! She might take hundreds of trunks for all he 
 cared. 
 
 "Annie, I have been very selfish and cruel to keep 
 you so long a time from your family," said Jacques, 
 remorsefully. 
 
 u Oh, it does not matter, now," she answered, 
 promptly. " I shall have all the more pleasure in 
 seeing every one again. There are more changes in 
 America in six years than in Europe in twenty, so 
 that it will be like going to a new country." 
 
 " Well, you may pride yourself on being good- 
 natured." . 
 
 "Every cloud has a silver lining and I only look 
 on the bright side. It is the only way to be happy 
 in this world and to have a good time." 
 
 " At any rate, it is the way to make others happy," 
 said the Marquis. 
 
 Only a Frenchwoman of very elevated character or
 
 AMERICAN NOBILITY 467 
 
 a very shrewd woman could have acted in the way 
 Annie did, and even then it would have required the 
 most heroic effort. The young American woman little 
 thought how dangerous the freshly-made grave of a 
 rival might prove. She had no idea of the communion 
 that may exist between the living and the dead. She 
 would simply have thought it ridiculous and petty to 
 be jealous now of Christiane. She was quite con- 
 vinced that she had the better part and that was quite 
 enough for her. She thought that Jacques might like 
 to see the Duchess's grave. Her comprehension did not 
 go beyond the actual " seeing the grave." She had 
 suggested it by Avay of putting him at his ease, and 
 also in order that he might not be tempted to go there 
 without telling her. Oh, yes, she thought she was 
 beginning to know him thoroughly now. 
 
 On hearing what Annie had suggested, Madame 
 d'Anguilhon could not help exclaiming: "Oh, what 
 a dear child she is, and what greatness there is in 
 her simplicity! " 
 
 The following day, the Marquis started for Paris, 
 as he had proposed. There was no sign of languor 
 about him. It was as though he had taken some 
 powerful elixir. 
 
 He put up at the H6tel de Castiglione and spent 
 the evening in his rooms, in order not to risk meeting 
 any acquaintances. The following day, he went first 
 to La Rosette. He knew how painful this pilgrim- 
 age would be, but he felt that he ought to make it. 
 Then, too, he knew he would find something of Chris- 
 tiane there, the last traces of her here below. 
 
 The sight of Toni in deep mourning, and of her thin 
 face, with its severe and even hard expression, gave 
 him a pang at his heart. The old nurse had been with
 
 468 AMERICAN NOBILITY 
 
 Christiane, day and night, up to the last moment. She 
 may have guessed that the Marquis was, in some way, 
 responsible for her death. It may have been that, on 
 seeing him, she was too deeply moved to speak. At 
 any rate, she did not utter a word, but merely opened 
 the silent, empty villa for him. 
 
 As soon as he entered, Jacques staggered and was 
 obliged to lean against the wall. The air was still 
 impregnated with Christiane's subtle perfume. This 
 gave him the impression that she was there. He 
 thought that he felt her presence and this sensation 
 was both horrible and sweet. Memories of their love 
 and happiness awoke within him in this desolate dwell- 
 ing, causing him the most exquisite suffering. Ah, the 
 cage was really empty. All the doors were wide open. 
 There was no light and there were no plants. There 
 was nothing living. The very furniture had been 
 pushed against the wall and had the rigidness of 
 things which are no longer in contact with human 
 beings. Jacques was chilled to the heart. He en- 
 tered her bedroom and, closing the door after him, he 
 went and knelt down by the side of the bed. He buried 
 his face in this couch, which was now as cold and 
 hard as a coffin, and he expiated their love and their 
 forbidden communion, her sin and all his sins. Under 
 the influence of this impression of silence and death, 
 a religious sentiment awoke in his heart and purified 
 it, as a living flame might have done. When he rose 
 from his knees, his face wore the devout, serene ex- 
 pression which prayer gives to it. On looking round, 
 he saw a little sprig of boxwood above the holy-water 
 vessel. It was the boxwood that had remained from 
 last Palm Sunday. He took it down and put it away 
 in his pocketbook. A few minutes later, Monsieur
 
 AMERICAN NOBILITY 469 
 
 d'Anguilhon went away, taking with him a beautiful 
 bunch of roses for the Duchess's grave. He looked 
 round again as he left, bidding farewell to this dwell- 
 ing, where their lives had been united for some time. 
 He could not help feeling joy at the thought that it 
 was to be pulled down and that it would never be 
 profaned by another love. 
 
 The Marquis arrived at Orleans at three o'clock. 
 Blanzac was half an hour's drive from there. He went 
 straight to the old chapel, leaving the carriage in the 
 road. By taking a cross-road, he soon reached a heap 
 of freshly cut flowers, which marked the spot where 
 Christiane lay. 
 
 The grave of a person who has belonged to us, and 
 whom we have loved, affects us differently from that 
 of a relative. Something mysterious seems to emanate 
 from it. Just at first, more particularly, we feel dis- 
 tinctly that the bond is not entirely broken and that 
 love is really stronger than death. Jacques' knees 
 had scarcely touched the earth which covered the 
 Duchess, when he felt a strange happiness. No 
 she had not quite gone. The idea of her disappear- 
 ance, which had caused him such anguish, left him 
 completely. It seemed to him that he had found her 
 again and a little joy mingled with his sorrow. He 
 spoke a few tender words to her. He promised her 
 that he would do some good in the world, as she had 
 asked him, and that he would never, never forget her. 
 He stayed there a long time, for he could not make 
 up his mind to leave her. Twice he started away 
 and then came back again, as though she were keeping 
 him there. Before leaving, he looked all round. It 
 was just the kind of sepulchre for which she had 
 always wished. The trees that grew on the hill stopped
 
 470 AMERICAN NOBILITY 
 
 about fifty yards away and encircled her grave and 
 the old chapel, like a sacred place. When he thought 
 of her last wish, he was deeply moved. She had wished 
 to sleep the last long sleep alone. He guessed why 
 she was faithful even beyond death. 
 
 The visit to Christiane's grave drove away all 
 Jacques' morbid ideas, leaving in his soul one of those 
 salutary griefs which temper a man's character. 
 
 On returning home, he began to take an active in- 
 terest in his affairs. By way of pleasing Annie, he 
 declared that he was delighted now to be going to 
 America. He promised to be quite pleasant to every 
 one, even to her two aunts. 
 
 On the twenty-third of June, Jacques and Annie 
 started from Blonay, leaving Madame d'Anguilhon 
 there with little Philippe. They met the Keradieus at 
 Havre, and also Guy de Nozay, and several other 
 friends who were there to see them off. Annie had 
 invited Guy to accompany them. He declined, but had 
 promised to go with them on their next journey. 
 Actuated by a chivalrous sentiment, that was very 
 characteristic of him, he had not cared to desert 
 Christiane. Every one was going away, so that he 
 would stay. 
 
 When the Touraine actually started, Catherine's face 
 beamed with delight. 
 
 " At last, Miss Annie," she exclaimed joyfully, " we 
 are on the way." 
 
 " I really begin to believe we are going," said Annie, 
 smiling. 
 
 " It is six years since you left New York, is it not? " 
 asked Madame de Keradieu.
 
 AMERICAN NOBILITY 471 
 
 " Yes, six years. If any one had told me then, that 
 I should be six years without going back to America, 
 I should have been in despair. And the six years have 
 passed like a dream ! "
 
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