Pride: One of the Seven Cardinal Sins

"Ah, my poor Ernestine, how sad it is that the purest and noblest affections can be thus degraded by unworthy suspicions!"

And unable to restrain her feelings any longer, she burst into tears and hid her face upon the bosom of Ernestine, who, half rising and pressing her friend to her heart, exclaimed:

"What is it, Herminie? What is it? I saw that you were becoming more and more depressed, but dared not ask you the reason."

"Do not say any more about it," replied Herminie, ashamed of her tears. "Forgive this weakness in me, but just now a host of memories – "

"Herminie, I have no right to demand your confidence, I know, but sometimes it is a relief to talk of one's troubles – "

"Yes, yes, I know it. It is the constraint that is killing me, but oh, the humiliation, the disgrace!"

"Humiliation and disgrace attach to you? Oh, no, Herminie, you are too proud for that!"

"But is it not weak and humiliating to weep as I do, after having had the courage to make a commendable and even necessary resolution?" she sobbed.

Then, after a moment's hesitation, the duchess continued:

"Do not regard what I am about to tell you as a confidential revelation on my part, my dear child, but rather as a useful lesson."

"A lesson?"

"Yes, for you, like myself, are an orphan; like me, you are alone in the world; and possessed of none of the experience that might save you from the snares and pitfalls by which poor girls like us are continually surrounded. So listen to me, Ernestine, and may you be spared the misery I am suffering now."

And Herminie described the scene in which, justly incensed against Gerald, who had ventured to pay her landlord the money she owed, she had treated him first with haughtiness and disdain, but afterwards forgiven him, touched by the generous impulse to which he had thoughtlessly yielded. After which, Herminie continued in words like these:

"Two days after this meeting, in the hope of diverting my mind from thoughts which had already gained too great an ascendency over me for my peace of mind, I went to Madame Herbaut's house. Judge of my surprise when I met this same young man again at that entertainment. My first feeling was one of chagrin, almost of fear, a presentiment, doubtless; then I had the weakness to yield to the charm of this second meeting. Never before had I seen a man who possessed, like him, manners at once unpretending, refined and distinguished, a brilliant, versatile mind, but never failing delicacy of feeling. I hate flattery, but his was characterised with so much grace and delicacy that I accepted it only too gladly, I fear. I learned that evening that his name was Gerald, and that – "

"Gerald?" Ernestine exclaimed, hastily, recollecting that the Duc de Senneterre, one of the suitors for her hand, was also named Gerald.

Just then a loud ring of the door-bell attracted Herminie's attention and prevented her from noticing Mlle. de Beaumesnil's astonishment. The latter arose from the bed at the sound, while Herminie, greatly annoyed by this interruption, directed her steps towards the door.

An elderly serving man handed her a note containing these words:

"I have not seen you for several days, my dear child, not having felt as well as usual. Can you see me this morning?

    Most affectionately yours,
    "Maillefort.

"P.S. – Do not take the trouble to answer in writing. If you will see your old friend, simply say 'yes' to the bearer."

Herminie, in her grief, was inclined to find some excuse for deferring M. de Maillefort's visit, but remembering that the marquis, belonging to the aristocracy as he did, was doubtless acquainted with Gerald, and that she might obtain some more definite information concerning her lover without revealing her secret, she said to the servant:

"I shall expect to see M. le Marquis de Maillefort sometime during the day."

But as she returned to the room where Mlle. de Beaumesnil was awaiting her, Herminie said to herself:

"What if M. de Maillefort should come while Ernestine is here? Oh, well, it will not matter much, after all, if she does see him; besides, the dear child is so retiring that, as soon as a stranger comes, she is sure to leave me alone with him."

So Herminie continued her conversation with Mlle. de Beaumesnil without making any allusion to M. de Maillefort's approaching visit, for fear that Ernestine would leave sooner than she had intended.

CHAPTER IX

AN UNEXPECTED MEETING

"Forgive me for having deserted you so unceremoniously, my dear Ernestine," Herminie remarked to her friend. "It was a letter, and I had to send a verbal reply."

"Do pray go on with your story, Herminie," replied Ernestine. "You have no idea how deeply interested I am."

"And it is such a relief to me to tell you my troubles."

"Yes, I was sure it would be," responded Ernestine, with ingenuous tenderness.

"I was just telling you that I learned at Madame Herbaut's little entertainment that this young man's name was Gerald Auvernay. It was M. Olivier who told me so, on introducing him to me."

"What! he knows M. Olivier?"

"They are intimate friends, for Gerald was a soldier in the same regiment as Olivier. On leaving the service, he entered the office of a notary, so he told me, but for some time past he had given up an employment which was so distasteful to him, and had found occupation on the fortifications under an officer of engineers he had known in Africa. So you see, Ernestine, that Gerald's position and mine were identical, and free as he seemed to be, I was surely excusable for allowing myself to yield to a fatal fondness for him."

"But why fatal, Herminie?"

"Wait and you shall know all. Two days after our meeting at Madame Herbaut's, on my return from my lessons, I went out into the garden to which my landlord had kindly given me the entrée. This garden, as you can see from the window, is separated from the street in the rear only by a hedge, and from the bench on which I had seated myself I saw Gerald pass. Instead of being handsomely dressed as on the evening before, he was clad in a gray blouse and a big straw hat. He gave a start of surprise on perceiving me, but far from seeming mortified at being seen in his working clothes, he bowed to me and, pausing, said gaily that he was just returning from his day's work, being engaged in superintending certain portions of the fortifications now in progress of construction at the end of the Rue de Monceau. 'An occupation which suits me much better than dull notary work,' he remarked. 'I am fairly well paid and I have a crowd of rather rough but very worthy men to superintend. I like it much better than copying stupid documents.'"

"I can understand that perfectly, my dear Herminie."

"It is more than likely that the cheerful way in which he accepted this arduous labour, manual labour, I might almost say, touched me all the more as Gerald had evidently received an excellent education. That evening when he left me he smilingly remarked that it was with the hope of sometimes meeting me within the boundaries of my park, as he often passed through that street on his way to visit a former comrade, who lived in a small house that could be seen from the garden. What will you think, Ernestine, when I tell you that almost every evening about sunset I had a chat with Gerald, and sometimes we even strolled out together to the same grassy knolls where M. Bernard met with his accident this morning? I found Gerald so full of frankness, generosity of heart, talent, and charming humour, he seemed to have such a high – I was about to say such a just – opinion of me, that when the day came that Gerald declared his love, and told me that he could not live without me, I was so happy, Ernestine, oh, so happy! for if Gerald had not loved me I do not know what would have become of me. It would have been impossible for me to do without this love, and now to love alone, – to love without hope," added the poor girl, hardly able to restrain her tears, "oh, it is worse than death, for it means a life for ever desolate."

Controlling her emotion, Herminie continued:

"I told Gerald my feelings with the utmost frankness. On my side there was not only love, but almost gratitude, for without him life would have seemed intolerable to me. 'We are both free to choose,' I said to Gerald; 'our positions are equal. We shall both have to work every day for our daily bread, and that gratifies my pride, for idleness imposed upon a wife is a cruel humiliation to her. Our lot will be humble, even precarious, perhaps, Gerald,' I added, 'but with courage, and strong in our mutual love and trust, we can defy the worst misfortunes.'"

"What noble words, Herminie! How proud M. Gerald must have been of your love! But as you have every chance of happiness, why these tears and your evident despair?"

"Do you not think that I was more than justified in loving him?" asked the poor girl, trying hard to repress her sobs. "Was not mine a true and noble love. Oh, tell me, is it possible that any one can accuse me – "

But Herminie could not finish the sentence, for sobs choked her utterance.

"Accuse you? Mon Dieu! Accuse you of what? Are you not as free as M. Gerald? Does he not love you as much as you love him? Are your positions not equal?"

"No, no, our positions are not equal," replied Herminie, dejectedly.

"What is that you say?"

"No, our positions are not equal, alas! and that is my chief misfortune, for in order to equalise our positions apparently, Gerald deceived me as to his real station in life."

"Great Heavens! Who is he, then?"

"The Duc de Senneterre."

"The Duc de Senneterre!" exclaimed Ernestine, filled with terror for Herminie, as she remembered that Gerald was one of the three suitors for her – Ernestine's – hand, and that she was to meet him at the ball on the following Thursday. Consequently, he must have deceived Herminie in the most shameless manner, as he was, at that very time, endeavouring to marry a rich heiress.