Pride: One of the Seven Cardinal Sins

"Great Heavens, that means to lack food! That means want, misery, death itself, perhaps!

"All the merry, laughing girls I saw at this little entertainment, girls who are, like Herminie, dependent entirely upon their own exertions for a livelihood, may know all the horrors of abject want to-morrow, if work should fail them!

"Is there no one to whom they can go and say, 'I am brave and willing, only give me work?'

"But such a state of things is unjust! It is shameful! Is there no such thing as pity for the woes of others in the world? Is it a matter of little or no consequence that there should be so many people in the world who do not know whether they will have food on the morrow?

"Oh, mother, mother, now I understand the vague fear and uneasiness I experienced when they told me I was so rich! I had good reason to say to myself, with something akin to remorse:

"Such vast wealth for myself alone? And why?

"Why should I have so much and others nothing?

"How did I acquire this immense fortune?

"Alas! I acquired it only by your death, my mother, and by your death, my father.

"So I had to lose those I held most dear in the world in, order to become so rich.

"In order that I may be so rich, it is necessary, perhaps, that thousands of young girls like Herminie should be always in danger of want, – happy to-day, filled with despair to-morrow.

"And when they have lost their only treasures, the lightheartedness and gaiety of youth, when they are old, and when not only work, but strength is lacking, what becomes of these unfortunates?

"Oh, mother, the more I think of the terrible difference between my lot and that of Herminie and so many other young girls – the more I think of the dangers that surround me, of all the nefarious schemes of which I am the object because I am rich, it seems to me that wealth imparts a strange bitterness to the heart.

"Now my reason has at last asserted itself, I must satisfy myself of the omnipotent power of wealth over venal souls; I must see to what depths of degradation I, a girl of sixteen, can make those around me stoop. Yes, for my eyes are open now. I realise with profound gratitude that M. de Maillefort's revelations alone started this train of thought that is making everything more and more clear to me every minute.

"I do not know, but it seems to me, my dear mother, that I can express my thoughts more clearly now, that my mind is developing, that my faculties are awakening from a sort of stupor, that my character is undergoing a decided change in many respects, and that, while it remains keenly susceptible to all that is sincere and generous, it is becoming strongly antagonistic and aggressive to all that is false, base and mercenary.

"I am convinced of one thing: they lied to me when they told me that M. de Maillefort was your enemy. They told me so merely because they wanted to make me distrust his counsels. It was designedly that they fostered my dislike of him, a dislike caused by the slanders of which I have been the dupe.

"No, never shall I forget that it was to M. de Maillefort's revelations that I was indebted for the idea of going to Madame Herbaut's, where I not only learned the truth concerning myself, but where I met the only two really generous and sincere persons that I have known since I lost you, my father, and you, my mother."

The morning after Madame Herbaut's ball Mlle. de Beaumesnil rang for her governess a little earlier than usual.

Madame Laîné appeared almost instantly, however.

"Did mademoiselle have a comfortable night?" she asked.

"Very, my dear Laîné but tell me, have you made the inquiries I asked you to last evening, so we may know whether any one suspected our absence."

"No one has the slightest suspicion of it, mademoiselle. Madame de la Rochaiguë did not send to inquire for you until early this morning."

"And you replied?"

"That mademoiselle had passed a very comfortable, though slightly restless, night; but that the quiet and rest had benefited mademoiselle very much."

"That is all right then, my dear Laîné, and now I have another favour to ask of you."

"I am at mademoiselle's service; but I am so distressed about what happened at Madame Herbaut's last night," said the governess. "I was in torture the whole evening."

"But what happened at Madame Herbaut's?"

"Why, mademoiselle was received with such coldness and indifference. It was shameful, for mademoiselle is in the habit of seeing everybody crowd around her as they ought."

"As they ought?"

"Most assuredly. Mademoiselle knows very well the respect that is due to her position, so last evening I was mortified and incensed beyond expression. 'Ah,' I said to myself,'if you only knew that this young lady you are neglecting is Mlle. de Beaumesnil, you would all be down on your knees in the twinkling of an eye.'"

"My dear Laîné, let me first set your mind at rest about last evening. I was delighted, and I enjoyed myself so much that I intend to go again next Sunday evening."

"What, mademoiselle wishes to go again?"

"I shall go, that is decided. Now, another thing. The reception which I met with at Madame Herbaut's, and which scandalises you so deeply, is convincing proof of the discretion I expected from you. I thank you for it, and if you always act in this way I assure you your fortune is made."

"But mademoiselle knows that it is not self-interest – that – "

"Yet that need not prevent me from rewarding you as you deserve, my dear Laîné. And that is not all; I want you to ask Madame Herbaut for the address of one of the young ladies I met last evening. The young lady I mean is called Herminie, and she gives music lessons."

"I shall not have to apply to Madame Herbaut for that, mademoiselle, M. le baron's steward knows the address."

"What! Our steward knows Mlle. Herminie's address?" exclaimed Ernestine, greatly astonished.

"Yes, mademoiselle. They were speaking of the young lady in the office only a few days ago."

"Of Mlle. Herminie?"

"Yes, mademoiselle. It was in relation to a five hundred franc note that she returned to the baroness. Louis, one of the footmen, heard the whole conversation through the door of the reception-room."

"Madame de la Rochaiguë knows Herminie?" cried Ernestine, whose surprise and curiosity were increased by each word the governess uttered. "And what is this about a five hundred franc note?"

"Why, it seems that this honest young girl – I told you that Madame Herbaut was exceedingly particular in the selection of her guests – this honest young girl returned the five hundred francs because she said she had already been paid by the countess."

"What countess?"

"Why, mademoiselle's mother."

"My mother paid Herminie? And for what?"

"Ah, yes, it is true that mademoiselle is not aware – I suppose no one has told mademoiselle for fear of making her still more sad."

"Has not told me what? In Heaven's name, speak!"

"Why, the late countess suffered so much towards the last, that the physicians, at their wit's end, thought that music might ameliorate her sufferings, at least to some extent."

"Great Heaven! I can not believe it. Go on, go on."

"So they sent for a young musician, and this young musician was Herminie!"