Pride: One of the Seven Cardinal Sins

"I am too anxious to believe you not to yield to your arguments very readily," Herminie answered, half laughingly, half seriously.

"But my reasoning is true, mademoiselle," said Ernestine, encouraged by her success, and anxious to make her companion share her convictions; "besides, the similarity in our situations helps to bring us together. The fact that we are both orphans is surely a bond between us."

"It is indeed," said the duchess, pressing Ernestine's hand affectionately.

"Then you will really grant me your affection some day?"

"A few minutes ago, without even knowing you, I was touched by your painful position," replied Herminie. "Now I feel that I love you because it is so evident that you have a kind and noble heart."

"Oh, if you only knew what pleasure your words give me! I will never prove ungrateful, I swear it, mademoiselle!"

Then as if bethinking herself, she added, "Mademoiselle? It seems to me that it will be very difficult for me to call you that now."

"And equally difficult for me to reply in the same ceremonious way," responded the duchess. "So call me Herminie and I will call you – "

"Ernestine."

"Ernestine," exclaimed Herminie, remembering that this was her sister's name, – the name the Comtesse de Beaumesnil had mentioned several times in the young musician's presence when speaking of her beloved daughter; "you are called Ernestine? You spoke of one bond between us just a moment ago; this is another."

"What do you mean?"

"A lady to whom I was deeply attached had a daughter who was also named Ernestine."

"You see how many reasons there are that we should love each other, Herminie," said Mlle. de Beaumesnil; "and as we are friends now, I am going to ask you all sorts of impertinent questions."

"Proceed, then!" said Herminie, smiling.

"Well, in the first place, what do you do for a living? What is your profession, Herminie?"

"I give lessons on the piano and in singing."

"How lucky your pupils are! How kind you must be to them!"

"No, indeed, I am very severe," replied the duchess, gaily. "And you, Ernestine, what do you do?"

"I – I do embroidery and tapestry work," Mlle. de Beaumesnil answered, somewhat embarrassed.

"And do you have plenty of work, my dear child?" asked Herminie, with almost maternal solicitude; "work of that kind is usually so very scarce at this season of the year."

"I came from the country only a short time ago to join my relative here," replied poor Ernestine, more and more confused; then gathering a certain amount of courage from the very exigency of the situation, she added: "So you see, Herminie, that I have never lacked work yet."

"If you ever should, I think I might be able to procure it for you, my dear Ernestine."

"You! and how?"

"I, too, have done embroidery for some of the large shops, when – well, one may surely confess it to a friend – when pupils were scarce, and I had to eke out a living in that way; so as they were very well satisfied with my work at the establishment of which I speak, – one of the largest in town by the way, – I am still on good terms with them, and feel sure that a recommendation from me would ensure you work if you need it."

"But as you embroider, too, Herminie, I should be depriving you of one of your resources, and if pupils should become scarce again, what would you do?" asked Ernestine, deeply touched by Herminie's generous offer.

"Oh, I have other resources now," answered the other girl, proudly. "I copy music, too. But the important thing, you see, Ernestine, is to be certain of work, for you, too, alas! know, perhaps, that it is not enough for those who labour for their daily bread to have energy and determination; they must have employment as well."

"Certainly, and that is very hard to find sometimes," said Ernestine, sadly, thinking for the first time of the sad lot of many young girls, and reflecting that her new friend had doubtless been in the deplorable situation of which she spoke.

"Yes, and it is terrible for one to see oneself nearing the end of one's resources, no matter how willing to work and how courageous one may be," replied Herminie, sadly. "And it is for this very reason that I will do everything in my power to spare you such misery as that, my poor Ernestine. But tell me, where do you live? I will call and see you sometime when I am out giving lessons, that is, if it is not too far out of my way, for I have to be very saving of my time."

Mlle. de Beaumesnil's embarrassment was very great, and it was still farther augmented by the painful necessity of being compelled to utter a falsehood, so it was with no little hesitation that she replied:

"I should be very glad to see you, my dear Herminie, but – but my relative – "

"Poor child, I understand," said Herminie, quickly, unconsciously coming to Ernestine's assistance. "You are not in your own home, of course, and your relative makes you painfully conscious of the fact, sometimes, perhaps."

"That is it exactly," said Mlle. de Beaumesnil, delighted with this excuse. "My relative is not bad at heart, but so peevish, and such a grumbler. I don't believe there was ever another such grumbler in the world," she added, smiling.

"That is enough for me," exclaimed Herminie, laughing in her turn. "If she's a grumbler, she'll never have a visit from me. The only way out of the difficulty, Ernestine, is for you to come and see me whenever you have time."

"I was just going to ask you to grant me that privilege."

"Yes, yes, you shall come and see how pretty my room is," said the duchess.

Then remembering that her new friend was not as comfortably housed, Herminie added:

"When I say that, I don't really mean it. My room is really very unpretentious."

But Ernestine understood Herminie's disposition and character pretty well already, so she said, smiling:

"Be honest, Herminie."

"About what?"

"Your room is charming, and you only retracted your words because you thought I would feel badly because I hadn't a room as pretty as yours."

"Do you know, Ernestine, that you would be a very dangerous person to have around if any one had a secret, for you seem to divine everything."

"I was sure of it! Your room is charming. How I shall enjoy seeing it."

"You must not say how I shall enjoy seeing it. You must say, 'Herminie, I am coming to take a glass of milk with you some morning, soon.'"

"Oh, I'll say that with all the pleasure in life."

"And I accept your offer with equal pleasure. Only when you come, Ernestine, don't let it be any later than nine o'clock, for I begin my round of lessons at ten. And now what day will you come?"

Mlle. de Beaumesnil was rescued from this embarrassing situation by Providence in the shape of a handsome non-commissioned officer of hussars, who was no other than Olivier.

Faithful to the promise made to Mlle. Herbaut, the kind-hearted fellow had come to ask Ernestine to dance the next quadrille with him, so, after having greeted Herminie in the most cordial and respectful manner, he bowed low before Ernestine, with the stereotyped phrase:

"Will mademoiselle do me the honour to dance the next quadrille with me."

CHAPTER III