Pride: One of the Seven Cardinal Sins

"Then I have good cause to loathe this man, and yet I blamed myself for yielding to my involuntary aversion."

"Ah, my dearest child, may you never have a less justifiable aversion," said the devotee, sanctimoniously, lifting her eyes heavenward.

Then she added:

"I must leave you, now, my dear Ernestine. Sleep sweetly. To-morrow morning, at nine o'clock, I will come for you to go to church."

"Good-bye until to-morrow, mademoiselle; but, alas! you leave me with sad thoughts, – my mother had an enemy."

"It is best to know the real character of the wicked, my dear Ernestine, for then one can at least guard against their evil doing. And now good-bye until to-morrow morning."

"Good night, mademoiselle."

So Mlle. de la Rochaiguë departed, proud of the perfidious cunning with which she had aroused a cruel distrust of M. de Maillefort in Mlle. de Beaumesnil's heart.

Ernestine left alone, rang for her governess, who also acted as her personal attendant.

Madame Laîné entered.

She was about forty years of age, with a somewhat insipid face, and a pleasant, though rather obsequious manner, in which there was a touch of servility that made it very different from the devotion of a faithful nurse, which is always instinct with the dignity of disinterested affection.

"Does mademoiselle wish to retire?" asked Madame Laîné.

"No, my good Laîné, not yet. Bring me my writing-desk, please."

"Yes, mademoiselle."

The desk having been brought from Ernestine's chamber, her governess said:

"There is something I wish to tell mademoiselle."

"What is it?"

"Madame has hired two other maids for mademoiselle, and – "

"I have told you that I require no other personal attendants than you and Thérèse."

"I know it, mademoiselle, and I said as much to madame, but she thinks you are not sufficiently well served."

"You satisfy me perfectly."

"But madame says these young women are to stay in case you should need them, and this suits all the better as madame dismissed her own maid recently, and these women are to attend her in the meantime."

"That is all very well," responded Ernestine, indifferently.

"Mademoiselle desires nothing?"

"No, I thank you."

"Does mademoiselle find herself comfortable here?"

"Very comfortable."

"The apartments are certainly superb, but there is nothing too good for mademoiselle. Every one says so."

"My good Laîné, you may put out what I shall require for the night," said Ernestine, without paying any attention to the governess's remark. "I can undress without your assistance, but I would like you to wake me a little before eight to-morrow morning."

"Yes, mademoiselle."

Madame Laîné turned as if to leave the room, but as Ernestine opened her desk to write, the governess paused, and said:

"I have a favour to ask of mademoiselle."

"What is it?"

"I should be very grateful to mademoiselle if she would have the goodness to spare me a couple of hours to-morrow, or the day after, to go and see a relative of mine, Madame Herbaut, who lives in the Batignolles."

"Very well, go to-morrow morning, while I am at church."

"I thank mademoiselle for her kindness."

"Good-night, my good Laîné," said Ernestine, thus dismissing her governess, who seemed inclined to continue the conversation.

This interview gives a pretty correct idea of the relations that existed between Mlle. de Beaumesnil and Madame Laîné.

The latter had often endeavoured to establish herself on a more familiar footing with her young mistress, but at the very first effort in this direction Mlle. de Beaumesnil always put an end to the conversation, not haughtily nor curtly, but by giving some order in a kindly way.

After Madame Laîné's departure, Ernestine remained lost in thought for some time; then, seating herself at the table, on which her desk had been placed, she opened it and took out a small book bound in Russia leather, the first leaves of which were already filled.

The history of this book was simple but touching.

On her departure for Italy, Ernestine had promised her mother to write every day a sort of diary of her journey. This promise the girl had kept until the sorrowful days that immediately followed her father's fatal accident, and the even more terrible days that followed the news of the Comtesse de Beaumesnil's death; and now that she had rallied a little from these crushing blows, Ernestine found a sort of pious consolation in continuing to write to her mother every day, keeping up the both pleasant and cruel illusion by continuing these confidential revelations.

The first part of this book contained copies of the letters Ernestine had written to her mother while that lady was living.

The second part, separated from the first by a black cross, contained the letters which the poor child had, alas! had no need to recopy.

Mlle. de Beaumesnil seated herself at the table, and, after she had wiped away the tears which the sight of this book always evoked, she wrote as follows:

"I have not written to you, my darling mamma, since my arrival at M. de la Rochaiguë's house, because I wished to analyse my first impressions carefully.

"Besides, you know how peculiar I am, and how, whenever I go to a strange place now, I find myself almost dazed for a day or two by the change. It seems as if I must have time to become accustomed to the new objects by which I am surrounded, to recover my mental faculties.

"The apartments set aside for my exclusive use are so magnificent and so spacious that I felt lost in them yesterday, but to-day I am becoming more accustomed to them.

"Madame de la Rochaiguë and her husband and sister have welcomed me as if I were their own child. They lavish every attention and kindness upon me, and if one could have any feeling save gratitude, for such a cordial reception, I should feel amazed that persons so much older than I am, should treat me with so much deference.

"M. de la Rochaiguë, my guardian, is kindness itself. His wife, who quite spoils me by her tenderness, is of a very gay and lively disposition. Mlle. Helena, her sister-in-law, is the gentlest and most saintly person imaginable.