Pride: One of the Seven Cardinal Sins

Mlle. de Beaumesnil had put on the same dress she had worn on her first visit to her friend's house, – a simply made gown of inexpensive lawn.

Soon a footman threw open the folding doors that led into the small drawing-room where the heiress usually sat, and announced, in a loud voice:

"M. le Marquis de Maillefort."

Herminie was with the hunchback, and for some reason or other seemed to be greatly agitated by the prospect of this meeting with Mlle. de Beaumesnil, and as the duchess, whose bosom was heaving visibly, kept her eyes fixed upon the floor, the footman had time to close the door and make his escape before Herminie recognised Ernestine.

The marquis, who was enjoying this little scene immensely, gave Mlle. de Beaumesnil a meaning glance just as Herminie, surprised at the long silence, ventured to raise her eyes.

"Ernestine, you here!" she exclaimed, taking a step towards her friend, then, intensely surprised, looked wonderingly at the marquis, as Mlle. de Beaumesnil, throwing herself upon Herminie's neck, embraced her tenderly, while tears of joy rolled down her cheeks.

"You are weeping, Ernestine!" said Herminie, more and more astonished, but still without the slightest suspicion of the truth, though her heart was throbbing with unwonted violence. "What is the matter with you, Ernestine?" she continued. "How do you happen to be here? You do not answer me. Good Heavens! I cannot imagine why I tremble so!"

And again the duchess turned inquiringly to the hunchback, whose eyes were dim with tears.

"I do not know, but it seems to me something extraordinary is going on here, M. le marquis; tell me what all this means, I beseech you."

"It means, my dear child, that I was a true prophet when, in talking with you about your approaching interview with Mlle. de Beaumesnil, I told you that I felt sure this meeting would afford you much more pleasure than you anticipated."

"Then you knew that I would find Ernestine here, monsieur?"

"I was certain of it."

"You were certain of it?"

"Yes, there could be no doubt of it."

"Why do you say that?"

"For the simple reason that – "

"That what, monsieur?"

"Is it possible you don't suspect?"

"No, monsieur."

"That the two Ernestines are one and the same person."

The duchess was so far from suspecting the truth that she utterly failed to understand the import of the hunchback's reply at first, and repeated mechanically, gazing at him wonderingly all the while:

"The two Ernestines are one and the same person?"

Then seeing her friend gazing at her with an expression of ineffable joy and happiness, and with arms outstretched as if to embrace her, she exclaimed, overwhelmed with astonishment, and almost terror:

"Mlle. de Beaumesnil! Can it be – my God! can it be that you are Mlle. de Beaumesnil?"

"Yes," exclaimed the hunchback, "she is Mlle. de Beaumesnil, the daughter of the lady who loved you so much, and to whom you were so deeply attached."

"Ernestine is my sister," thought the duchess.

This startling revelation, and the recollection of the strange way in which she had made Mlle. de Beaumesnil's acquaintance, as well as of the events which had occurred since their first meeting, gave Herminie a sort of vertigo. Her brain seemed to whirl; she turned pale, and trembled so violently, that Ernestine was obliged to assist her to a neighbouring armchair.

There, kneeling beside her, and gazing up in her face with all a sister's tenderness, Mlle. de Beaumesnil took Herminie's hands in hers, and kissed them almost reverently, while the marquis stood contemplating this touching scene in silence.

"Pardon me," faltered Herminie, "but the surprise, – the trying position in which I find myself, mademoiselle – "

"Mademoiselle! Oh, do not call me that," exclaimed Mlle. de Beaumesnil. "Am I no longer your Ernestine, the orphan to whom you promised your friendship because you thought she was so unhappy? Alas! M. de Maillefort, your friend and mine, will tell you that I am indeed very unhappy, and that I am in even greater need of your tender affection than ever. What if I am no longer the poor little embroideress! The rich have their sorrows as well as the poor. In pity remember the words of my dying mother, who so often talked to you of me, and continue to love me for her sake."

"Have no fears on that score. You will always be dear, doubly dear to me," replied Herminie; "but you see I have scarcely recovered from my bewilderment. It seems like a dream to me, and when I think of the way in which I became acquainted with you, Ernestine, and of a thousand other things, I have to see you here close beside me, to believe that it is not really all a dream."

"Your surprise is very natural, my dear child," remarked the marquis, "and I myself, when I met Mlle. de Beaumesnil at your home a few days ago, was so overwhelmed with astonishment that, if something had not diverted your attention for a moment, you would have perceived my amazement; but Ernestine begged me to keep her secret, and I did."

When Herminie had recovered from the shock sufficiently for her mind to become clear again, the first words she uttered were:

"But, Ernestine, how did you happen to come to Madame Herbaut's? What is the meaning of all this mystery? Why did you wish to attend that reunion?"

Ernestine, smiling sadly, took from a table the journal she had been writing, the journal dedicated to the memory of her mother, and, handing it to Herminie open at the page where were enumerated the divers reasons which had forced the richest heiress in France to resort to the painful test she had endured so heroically, the young girl said to the duchess:

"I anticipated these questions, Herminie, and, as I am anxious that you should deem me worthy of your affection, I beg you to read these pages. They speak the truth, for it is to the memory of my mother that they are dedicated. M. de Maillefort, I would like you to peruse their contents at the same time, so you can see that, though I unfortunately believed, for a time, the base slanders told me concerning you, your wise, though severe, lesson was not lost upon me, but gave me the courage to resort to a test that may, perhaps, seem strange to you, my dear Herminie."

The duchess took the book from Ernestine's hands. It was an interesting scene to see Herminie holding the open journal, while the marquis, leaning over the back of the armchair in which she was seated, read with her and like her, in silence, Mlle. de Beaumesnil's artless story.

That young girl watched both Herminie and the hunchback intently during the reading, evidently anxious to know if they would approve her motives.

All doubts on this subject were soon allayed, however, for touching and sympathetic exclamations speedily testified to the approval of both.

When the perusal was ended, the duchess, her eyes filled with tears of love and compassion, exclaimed:

"Ah, it is not friendship alone that I feel for you now, Ernestine, but respect and admiration. Great Heavens! how these frightful doubts must have tortured you! What an immense amount of courage it must have required to take such an important step alone – to face an ordeal from which even the bravest heart would have shrunk! Ah, I can at least offer you an affection which has been proved as disinterested as it is sincere. Thank God, I have been able to convince you beyond a doubt that you can and should be loved for yourself alone."

"Ah, yes, and it is this fact that makes your affection so precious to me," replied Ernestine, with effusion.

"Herminie is right. Your conduct has been worthy of all praise," said the marquis, who seemed deeply moved. "The few words you let drop on this subject night before last, at the ball, only partially enlightened me in regard to the real facts of the case. You are a noble girl."

But suddenly the duchess, remembering the promise Ernestine had made Olivier, exclaimed anxiously:

"But, Ernestine, – the promise you made M. Olivier yesterday, in my presence!"

"That promise I shall keep," replied Mlle. de Beaumesnil, quietly.

CHAPTER XIX

ERNESTINE'S APPEAL

On hearing Mlle. de Beaumesnil speak of a promise which she had made to M. Olivier, and which she intended to keep, M. de Maillefort seemed both surprised and uneasy, especially when the duchess repeated:

"What! the promise made to M. Olivier – "