Pride: One of the Seven Cardinal Sins
"'M. de Mornand is sublime!' exclaimed my guardian. 'There is little doubt that his speech will greatly ameliorate the lot of thousands of these unfortunates.'
"Prolonged applause followed the conclusion of M. de Mornand's speech. He was about to leave the tribune when another member of the Chamber, a man with a malevolent, sarcastic face, rose in his seat, and said:
"'I ask the permission of the Chamber to ask M. de Mornand a simple question before he descends from the tribune and before his sudden and generous compassion for our brave fishermen shall consequently have evaporated.'
"'If you will take my advice, we will leave at once to escape the crowd,' M. de Ravil remarked to my guardian. 'M. de Mornand having finished, everybody will want to go, for there will be nothing else of interest.'
"M. de la Rochaiguë offered me his arm, but just as we were leaving the hall we heard shouts of laughter, and renewed applause.
"'I know what that means,' remarked M. de Ravil. 'M. de Mornand has crushed, by his sarcasm, the imprudent member who had the audacity to question any of his statements, for when he wishes to be, M. de Mornand is as witty as the devil.'
"My guardian having suggested that we extend our walk to the observatory, I consented, and M. de Ravil accompanied us.
"'M. le baron,' he remarked to my guardian; 'did you notice Madame de Bretigny, who left the hall just as we did?'
"'The wife of the minister? No, I did not.'
"'I am sorry, monsieur, for you would have seen one of the noblest women that ever lived. You have no idea what wonderfully good use she makes of her position as a minister's wife, or of the vast amount of good she does, the wrongs she repairs, and the assistance she gives to the worthy.'
"'I am not surprised to hear it,' replied my guardian. 'In a position like that of Madame de Bretigny, one can do any amount of good, for – '
"But interrupting himself suddenly, he turned to M. de Ravil and exclaimed, eagerly:
"'Say, isn't that he over there in that secluded path, walking along, looking at the flowers?'
"'To whom do you refer?'
"'Why, to M. de Mornand. Look!'
"'You're right, it is he!' replied M. de Ravil. 'He has forgotten his triumph – and is finding a welcome relief from the onerous cares of state in gazing at the flowers. This does not surprise me, however, for, with all his talent and his political genius, he is one of the best and most simple-hearted of men, and his tastes prove it. After his brilliant success, what does he seek? Solitude and flowers.'
"'M. de Ravil, you know M. de Mornand, do you not?' inquired my guardian.
"'Slightly. I meet him occasionally in society.'
"'But you know him well enough to speak to him, do you not?'
"'Certainly.'
"'Then go and congratulate him on the success he just achieved. We will follow you so as to get a closer look at this great man. What do you say to my scheme, my dear ward?'
"'I will accompany you, monsieur. One always likes to see distinguished men like M. de Mornand.'
"Changing our course, we soon reached the path where M. de Mornand was walking. He replied to M. de Ravil's and my guardian's compliments with quite as much modesty as simplicity of manner, and addressed a few kindly remarks to me, after which we left him to continue his lonely promenade.
"'When one thinks that this simple-mannered man will govern France in less than six months!' exclaimed M. de Ravil.
"'Say admirably-mannered, my dear M. de Ravil,' corrected my guardian. 'M. de Mornand has quite the manner of a grand seigneur. He is both affable and dignified. He is not one of those silly popinjays who think only of the tie of their cravats and the cut of their hair.'
"'Creatures of that type are never likely to govern France,' answered M. de Ravil. 'I say govern because M. de Mornand will not accept a subordinate position. He will be chief of the Cabinet which he forms. May Heaven preserve him, M. le Baron. The welfare of France and the peace of the civilised world depend upon him,' added M. de Ravil, in tones of profound conviction.
"As I walked homeward with my guardian, I thought that there could indeed be no more enviable and noble position than that of a man who, like M. de Mornand, exercises a controlling influence over the welfare of France and the peace of Europe.
"Such, my dear mother, were the circumstances under which I met, for the first time, Messieurs Macreuse, Senneterre, and Mornand.
"I will now tell you what the consequences of these meetings have been."
CHAPTER XXXIV
TORMENTED BY DOUBTS
"At the expiration of a few days Mlle. Helena had succeeded in securing full information in regard to M. Célestin de Macreuse, and she began to talk of him, not occasionally, but almost incessantly.
"She told me that M. de Macreuse, by his birth and connections, was entitled to a place in the very best society; but, being endowed with the most exemplary piety, and with wonderfully philanthropic instincts, he had founded a charitable mission of the most admirable kind, and though still young, his name was uttered everywhere with the most profound affection and respect.
"Madame de la Rochaiguë, on the other hand, praised M. de Senneterre in the most extravagant way, while my guardian embraced every opportunity to laud M. de Mornand's talents and virtues to the skies.
"At first I saw nothing extraordinary in these flattering mentions of persons who seemed well worthy of praise, but I soon began to notice that the names of these gentlemen were mentioned by my guardian, his wife, or his sister only in conversations which one or the other had separately with me.
"At last came the day when M. de Maillefort so spitefully, but, alas! so truly, explained the real cause of the attentions and flattery lavished upon me, and it soon became evident to me that my guardian and his wife, apprised of the situation by Mlle. Helena, must fear the consequences of the revelation which had been such a shock to me; for the very next day each one of the three, in turn, disclosed his or her plans to me, – plans evidently conceived long before, – and assured me that the happiness of my life and the certainty of a blissful future depended upon my marrying —
"M. de Macreuse, – according to Mlle. Helena.
"M. de Senneterre, – according to Madame de la Rochaiguë.
"M. de Mornand, – according to my guardian.
"On hearing these unexpected proposals, my surprise and uneasiness were so great that I could make no coherent reply, and my embarrassed, incoherent words having been taken as a sort of tacit consent, I, after a little reflection, decided to leave the champions of these three suitors under the same erroneous impression.
"This induced them to make their confidential disclosures much more complete.
"'My brother and his wife,' said Mlle. Helena, 'are excellent people, but extremely vain and worldly. Neither of them is capable of appreciating the rare excellence of M. de Macreuse's principles, his Christian virtues, and his almost angelic piety; so we must keep our secret, my dear Ernestine, until you have chosen the husband I suggest, because he is so worthy of your choice. Then, proud and honoured by this choice, you will only have to notify my brother, your guardian, who will give his consent, I am sure, if you only evince proper firmness. If he should refuse his consent, which is not at all likely, however, we will resort to other and certain means of ensuring your happiness.'
"'My poor sister Helena,' said M. de la Rochaiguë, in his turn, 'is a most excellent woman, a saint if there ever was one, but she knows nothing in the world about mundane matters. If you should take it into your head to say anything about M. de Mornand to her, she would open her eyes in astonishment, and tell you that he cares only for the vain things of this world, that he is ambitious of power, etc. As for my wife, she is perfect, but separate her from her balls, and her toilets, and her social gossip, and her beaux who think only of the tie of their cravats, and their strawberry-coloured gloves, and she is completely at sea, for she knows nothing in the world about higher things. To her, M. de Mornand would be a grave, serious, depressing man, a statesman, in short, and by the slighting manner in which you have heard her speak of the Chamber of Peers, my dear child, you can imagine how she would regard a proposal of marriage from him. So all this must be kept a profound secret between you and me, my dear ward, and your mind once made up, as it is I who am your guardian after all, and as your marriage will depend upon my consent, you will have no difficulty in carrying out your wishes eventually.'
"'You must understand, my dear child,' said Madame de la Rochaiguë, 'that all I have just said to you about M. de Senneterre must be kept a profound secret between us. My sister Helena knows no more about matrimonial matters than a babe unborn, and that dear husband of mine has really gone politics mad. He dreams only of the Chamber of Peers, and knows no more about the fashions, and pleasure, and elegance, than a Huron Indian. In fact, he has no conception whatever of the delights of a life shared with a charming young duke, who is the most generous and amiable of men. So let us guard our secret well, my dearest child, and, when the time comes to inform your guardian of your decision, I'll attend to that, for M. de la Rochaiguë has been in the habit of letting me have my own way so long that I am sure he will offer no opposition in this instance, but readily consent to do whatever we wish in the matter. And now I want to tell you that a most fortunate idea occurred to me the other day,' continued Madame de la Rochaiguë. 'I have begged one of my friends, whom you already know, Madame de Mirecourt, to give a ball one week from to-day; so, my dear child, next Thursday, in the public tête-à-tête of a quadrille, you will have an opportunity to judge of the sincerity of the sentiment M. de Senneterre feels for you.'
"The very next morning after this conversation my guardian said to me, in the most confidential manner:
"'My wife thinks of taking you to a ball Madame de Mirecourt intends to give. You will see M. de Mornand at this entertainment, and I am sure he will not let the opportunity pass to convince you of the deep and irresistible impression the sight of you made upon him when we went to congratulate him on the success of his speech that day at the palace.'
"In like manner, a couple of days after my guardian and his wife had thus disclosed their plans, Mlle. Helena said to me:
"'My dear Ernestine, my sister-in-law intends to take you to Madame de Mirecourt's ball Thursday. I think this will be an excellent opportunity for you to meet M. de Macreuse, and though this poor young man, who is so bowed down with grief, has none of the frivolous attributes which enable one to shine at affairs of this kind, he has requested one of his particular friends – quite an important personage, by the way, the sister of the Bishop of Ratopolis – to ask Madame de Mirecourt for a card for him. This request was promptly complied with, so on Thursday you will see him, and I feel sure you will not be able to resist his eloquence when he tells you, as he has told me, how your adored image has followed him everywhere, and has even troubled his prayers ever since the first time he saw you at church.'
"It is consequently at the ball next Thursday, my dearest mother, that I am to have my first interview with Messrs. de Macreuse, de Senneterre and de Mornand.
"Even if M. de Maillefort's sarcastic remarks had not harshly revealed the real cause of the admiration and affection so generally manifested for me, my fears and suspicions must now have been awakened by the duplicity of those around me, plotting unbeknown to each other, and deceiving each other in order to succeed in their nefarious designs. You can judge of my anxiety, my beloved mother, now these two successive revelations have assumed such grave importance.
"To complete my confession, my dear mother, I must tell you plainly what my first impressions were in relation to the three persons the different members of the Rochaiguë family wish me to marry.
"Up to this time, I had never given the subject of marriage so much as a thought; the day for that seemed so far off, and it was such an important matter, that if a vague thought of it ever did flit through my mind, I merely congratulated myself that there was no need of troubling myself about that matter for a long time.
"Consequently it was not with any thought of him as a possible husband that I was touched by the evident grief of M. de Macreuse, who, like myself, was mourning the loss of a mother, though what Mlle. Helena was continually saying about the sweetness of his expression, his profound melancholy, and the kindness of his heart as shown by his munificent alms, all combined to add a profound esteem to the compassion I felt for him.
"M. de Senneterre, by the frankness and generosity of his character, by his unaffected gaiety and the graceful elegance of his manners, had pleased me very much; and it seemed to me that it would be very easy, though I am naturally so reserved, to feel perfect confidence in him.
"As for M. de Mornand, he had impressed me very much, though this was probably due quite as much to what I had heard about the superiority of his talents and character as to the powerful influence he seemed to exert, so I felt almost overwhelmed, though decidedly proud of the few kind words he addressed to me when I met him in the garden of the Luxembourg.
"And now when M. de Maillefort's revelations have made me distrust everything and everybody, I hear that all three of these men desire to marry me. Is it strange, then, that I am no longer able to read my own heart, and that, tormented by all kinds of doubts and suspicions, I ask myself if these three suitors for my hand are not all actuated by the same base motives as the persons by whom I am surrounded.
"And harassed by these doubts, all that pleased me and all that I so much admired in them now disturbs and alarms me. What if M. de Macreuse's grief and piety, M. de Senneterre's charming urbanity of manner, and M. de Mornand's grand and generous utterances, all conceal base and mercenary natures!
"Oh, mother, if you knew how terrible to me are these doubts which are completing the work of destruction M. de Maillefort's revelation began.
"They are the more terrible because I shall always be obliged to live with my guardian and his family, and if I become convinced beyond a doubt that they have flattered and deceived me merely for their own aggrandisement, I shall feel for them only the bitterest contempt and aversion.
"Because I am immensely rich, must I be married only for my money?
"Am I doomed to the misery of such a marriage, the indifference, contempt, hatred, perhaps, that are sure to follow when a man is mean enough to wed a woman merely for mercenary motives?
"Oh, mother, the thought is so horrible that it haunts me continually. I can not drive it away, strive as I may.
"So I have resolved to escape from it at the cost of a dangerous, perhaps fatal experiment.
"I have been induced to make this resolve because it seemed to be the only means of satisfying my cruel doubts, not only in regard to others, but myself as well. I must know once for all what I really am, and what I really appear to be, independent of my fortune.
"Satisfied on this point, I shall easily be able to distinguish the true from the false. But how am I to ascertain what I am? How am I to discover my precise value, so to speak? Whom can I ask? Who will be frank enough to separate the young girl from the heiress in his valuation?
"Besides, would such a verdict, however severe or kindly it might be, satisfy and reassure me entirely?
"No, I must have the verdict of several disinterested parties.
"But where can I find any such persons? After a great deal of thought, I have decided upon this plan.
"Madame Laîné was telling me about a week ago of some little entertainments that one of her friends gives every Sunday. I have sought and found, this evening, a way to attend one of these reunions in company with my governess, but ostensibly as a relative of hers, a young orphan who supports herself by her daily toil, like all the other young people who compose the company.
"There no one will know me. What they really think of me will be shown conclusively by the reception given me. The rare perfections with which I am endowed – according to those around me – have had such a sudden and irresistible effect, they say, upon them, and upon the husbands they have picked out for me, – in short, I produce such a sensation at all the assemblies I frequent, that I am anxious to see if I shall prove equally irresistible to the young people at Madame Herbaut's modest entertainment.
"If I do not, I shall know that I have been basely deceived, and there is little danger that I shall ever endanger my future happiness by fixing my choice upon either of the suitors attracted solely by cupidity.
"I am also resolved to find some means of escaping the snares that seem to surround me on every side.
"What means I do not know. Alas! alone in the world as I am, in whom can I confide? In whom can I trust?
"In God and in you, my mother. I shall obey all the inspirations you send me, as I obey this, for, strange as it may appear, I cannot divest myself of the idea that this did come from you. At all events, it had its origin in a wise and noble sentiment, – a desire to know the truth, however disheartening it may be.
"So to-morrow, I am resolved to attend the reunion at Madame Herbaut's house."
So the next day, Mlle. de Beaumesnil, having feigned indisposition, and having escaped the assiduous attentions of the Rochaiguës by a firm refusal to admit them to her room, left the house soon after nightfall, accompanied by her governess, and, taking a cab some distance from the mansion, was driven to Madame Herbaut's house.
END OF VOLUME IVol. II
CHAPTER I
MADAME HERBAUT'S PARTY
Madame Herbaut occupied quite a spacious suite of apartments on the third floor of the same house in which Commander Bernard lived.
The rooms devoted to these Sunday reunions consisted of the dining-room, where the young people danced to the music of the piano; the drawing-room, where there were card-tables for those who did not care to dance, and, lastly, Madame Herbaut's bedroom, where guests could sit and chat without being disturbed by the noise of the dancing, and without disturbing the card-players.
This simply furnished, but comfortable abode indicated that Madame Herbaut – who, by the way, was the widow of a small merchant – was in very comfortable circumstances, though far from rich.
The worthy woman's two daughters found lucrative employment, one in painting on china, the other in copying music, – work which had led to her acquaintance with Herminie, who also copied music when pupils were scarce.
The rooms presented a scene of even more than usual gaiety that evening. There were about fifteen young girls, none over twenty years of age, all resolved to make the most of Sunday, their only day of rest and pleasure, so richly earned by toil and confinement all the week, either at the counter, in the office, in some gloomy little back shop on the Rue St. Denis or the Rue des Bourdonnais, or perhaps in some pension.
Some of these young girls were extremely pretty, and nearly all were dressed with the good taste that characterises the attire of this humble and industrious class of people only in Paris, probably.
These poor girls, being obliged to work hard all the rest of the week, reserved all their little coquettish adornments for their one fête day, the day so impatiently awaited on Saturday, and so deeply regretted on Monday.
As is usual at such reunions, the masculine element in the little assembly presented a much less elegant and stylish appearance than the feminine element. In fact, but for some almost imperceptible shades of difference, most of these young girls were as bright and attractive as if they belonged to the very best society, but this slight superiority on the part of the young girls was soon forgotten, thanks to the cordial good-humour and frank gaiety, tempered with respect, which the young men displayed towards their fair companions.
Instead of being at its best about one o'clock in the morning, as is generally the case with a fashionable ball, this little assembly reached the very zenith of animation and enjoyment about nine o'clock, as the hostess always sent her guests home relentlessly before midnight, so they would be ready to resume work the next morning at the accustomed hour.
And what a dreary time Monday morning was, with the music and laughter of the night before still ringing in your ears, and the prospect of six long days of close confinement and drudgery before you!
But with what growing impatience and transports of joy you watched the approach of the longed-for day.
It comes at last, and then what exuberant happiness!
Oh, rare and modest joys that have never been impaired by satiety!
But Madame Herbaut's guests were not philosophising much that evening. They were reserving their philosophy for Monday.
These untiring young people were whirling swiftly around the room to the inspiring strains of a lively polka; and such was the magic of the strains that even the ladies and gentlemen in the drawing-room, in spite of their age and the grave preoccupations of Pope Joan and loto, – the only games Madame Herbaut allowed, – moved their heads to and fro and kept time with their feet, in short, executed a sort of antiquated sitting polka, which testified to the skill of the musician at the piano.
And this musician was Herminie.
About a month had passed since her first meeting with Gerald. Had other meetings followed that interview begun under most unpleasant auspices and ending with a gracious forgiveness? We shall know in due time.
This evening, in a dress of some soft, pale blue material that cost, perhaps, twenty sous a yard, and a large bow of ribbon of the same delicate hue in her magnificent golden hair, the duchess was ravishingly beautiful.
A faint rose tint suffused her cheeks, her large blue eyes shone like stars, and her half smiling scarlet lips revealed a row of pearl-white teeth, while her girlish bosom rose and fell gently beneath the thin fabric that veiled it, and her little foot, daintily clad in a satin slipper, beat time to the strains of the lively polka.
To-day there could be no doubt that Herminie was very happy. Far from holding herself aloof from the amusements of her companions, Herminie greatly enjoyed seeing them enjoy themselves, and always did everything in her power to add to their pleasure, but this generosity of feeling would hardly suffice to explain the exuberance of life and youth and happiness which imparted an unusually radiant expression to the enchanting features of the duchess. One somehow felt that this charming creature knew how charming and lovely and refined she was, and that the knowledge made her, not proud, but happy, – happy like those generous possessors of wealth, who prize their wealth chiefly because it enables them to confer happiness on others.
Though the duchess was deeply interested in her polka and the dancers, she turned her head involuntarily several times on hearing the door open, but on seeing the persons who entered, she seemed rather to reproach herself for her inattention to the business in hand.
The door opened again, and again Herminie cast a quick, almost impatient glance in that direction.
The newcomer this time was Olivier, the commander's nephew.
Seeing the young soldier leave the door open as if some one was following him, Herminie blushed slightly, and ventured another glance. But alas! in the doorway behind him there appeared a stout, rosy youth of eighteen, with an honest, artless face, and hands encased in green kid gloves.
It is difficult to say why Herminie seemed a little disappointed on the entrance of this youth, – perhaps it was because she hated green kid gloves, – but the disappointment betrayed itself in a charming pout and in the increasing vivacity of the strains to which her little foot was impatiently beating time.
