Pride: One of the Seven Cardinal Sins

"Yes, this promise, I repeat, I intend to keep, my dear Herminie. Did you not approve my acceptance of M. Olivier's offer? Did you not regard it as a sure guarantee of happiness to come? Did you not appreciate the great generosity of his offer as much as I did?"

"Yes, Ernestine, but it was to the little embroideress that this offer was made."

"Ah, well, why should M. Olivier's generosity seem less great and less noble now, my dear Herminie? Why should not the guarantee of happiness to come be just as certain?"

"I do not know how to answer you, Ernestine. I feel that you are right, and yet I am conscious of a vague uneasiness in spite of myself. But you must have no secrets from M. de Maillefort. You must tell him all."

"I will, and I am sure that M. de Maillefort will approve my decision."

The marquis had been listening silently but thoughtfully.

"Is this M. Olivier the young man who invited you to dance out of charity, and to whom frequent allusion is made in your journal?"

"Yes, M. de Maillefort."

"And it was M. Olivier's uncle that Ernestine saved from almost certain death the other day," added Herminie.

"His uncle?" exclaimed the hunchback, quickly.

Then, after a moment's reflection, he added:

"I understand. Gratitude, combined with another and more tender sentiment which had its birth at her first meeting with this young man at Madame Herbaut's house, led him to propose to Ernestine when he believed her to be poor and unprotected."

"And a brilliant match it seemed for one of my supposed position," remarked Mlle. de Beaumesnil, "for M. Olivier had just been made an officer, so it was an enviable social position as well as comparative affluence that he offered a penniless and obscure girl who laboured for her daily bread."

"Is his name Olivier Raymond?" exclaimed the hunchback, as if a new idea had suddenly occurred to him.

"That is his name. Do you know him, monsieur?" asked Ernestine.

"Olivier Raymond, formerly a non-commissioned officer of hussars, decorated in Africa, is it not?" continued the marquis.

"The same."

"Then it was for him, though not at his request, nor even with his knowledge, that I requested his promotion the other day in company with my dear young friend, Gerald de Senneterre, who loves the young man like a brother," added the hunchback, thoughtfully.

Then, turning to Ernestine, he continued:

"My child, it is your mother's devoted friend, almost a father, that speaks. All this seems very serious to me, and I tremble lest the natural generosity of your character should cause you to go too far. Have you engaged yourself to Olivier Raymond?"

"Yes, monsieur."

"And do you love him?"

"As profoundly as I esteem him, my dear M. de Maillefort."

"I can very well understand, my dear child, why, after the shocking revelations at the ball, night before last, you should have felt the need of sincere and disinterested affection more than ever. I can understand, too, why you should find a wonderful charm, and even see a certain guarantee of future happiness, in M. Olivier Raymond's generous offer, but this should not have prevented you from exercising more prudence. Remember how short your acquaintance with M. Olivier has been!"

"That is true, monsieur, but it did not take me long, when my eyes had once been opened, to realise the fact that your heart was full of the tenderest solicitude for me, and that Herminie was the noblest creature that ever lived, so you may be sure that I am no more deceived in M. Olivier."

"I hope you are right, my child, Heaven knows! This young man is Gerald de Senneterre's most intimate friend, which is a very strong recommendation, I must admit. Besides, before interesting myself in Gerald's protégé, as I feared his affection for a former comrade might have blinded him somewhat, I made numerous inquiries about M. Olivier."

"Well?" exclaimed Ernestine and Herminie, in the same breath.

"Well, the best proof of my satisfaction at the result of these inquiries was the fact that I brought the full force of an influence I rarely exert to bear on M. Olivier's advancement."

"Then why should you feel any apprehensions, M. de Maillefort?" urged Ernestine. "How could I have made a better choice? M. Olivier's birth is honourable, his profession honoured. He is poor, but am I not, alas! only too rich? And then think of my position as an heiress continually exposed to machinations like those you exposed and punished, night before last! Remember, too, that, in order to protect me from such shameless cupidity, you yourself aroused in me a distrust which has become well-nigh incurable. A prey henceforth to the dreadful thought that I am sought only for my wealth, whom can I trust? Is it strange that, under circumstances like these, I should appreciate disinterestedness and unselfishness? And where could I ever find greater disinterestedness than that of which M. Olivier has given convincing proof? For in the offer that he made me, when he believed me to be poor and unprotected, was it not he who had everything to give?"

There was a half smile on the lips of the marquis as he turned to Herminie and said:

"Your friend, the little embroideress, has quick wit and a ready tongue. There is a good deal of sense and justice in what she says, I must admit, and I should find it very difficult to prove that she is wrong."

"I think so, too," replied Herminie, "for though I have been trying to discover some objections to her keeping her promise, I can find none."

"Nor can I, my dear children," said the hunchback; "but, unfortunately, human reason is not infallible, neither does right always make might; besides, even if this should prove to be a suitable marriage for Ernestine, the consent of her guardian is necessary to this marriage, and with ideas like his, it is not at all likely that he will ever consent to such a union. Ernestine would consequently be obliged to wait several years. Nor is this all. M. Olivier will discover sooner or later that his little embroideress is the richest heiress in France, and from what you have said of him, as well as from what Gerald himself has told me of his friend's extreme sensitiveness in money matters, there is good reason to fear that M. Olivier will shrink from the possibility of being accused of mercenary motives in wedding so rich an heiress when he himself is poor; so, in spite of his love and gratitude, he may be capable of sacrificing everything to his scruples."

On hearing these words, which she felt were only too true, mademoiselle shuddered. A pang of real anguish pierced her heart, and she exclaimed, bitterly:

"Ah, my accursed wealth! Shall I never escape the torments it causes me!"

Then, in an entreating voice, and gazing at the hunchback with eyes swimming in tears, she added:

"Ah, M. de Maillefort, you were my mother's devoted friend, you love Herminie devotedly, – save me and save her! Come to our assistance. Be our guardian angel, for I feel that my life will be blighted for ever by the suspicions and the distrust you have awakened in my heart. The only chance of happiness left for me is to marry M. Olivier, and Herminie will die of grief if she does not marry M. de Senneterre, so once more I beseech you, my dear M. Maillefort, to take pity on us."

"Oh, Ernestine," cried the duchess, reproachfully, blushing scarlet in her confusion, "that secret was confided to you alone!"

"Gerald!" exclaimed the marquis, in his turn astounded by this revelation. "Gerald! is it possible that you love Gerald?" he continued, with a searching look at Herminie. "Then it was to this irresistible passion that he alluded when I was praising him yesterday for his generous conduct towards Mlle. de Beaumesnil. He told me, then, that he lived only for a young girl who was worthy of his adoration. Yes, I understand everything now, my poor, dear children, and I tremble for your future."

"Forgive me, oh, forgive me, Herminie," pleaded Ernestine, for her friend's tears were flowing fast. "Do not be angry with me for having betrayed your confidence. But in whom can we have any hope and confidence if not in M. de Maillefort? Who else can guide and comfort and sustain us in these trying hours? Alas! as he himself remarked just now, right does not make might. He admits that, in the trying position in which my accursed wealth places me, I could not have given my affections more wisely, and yet there are great, if not insurmountable, difficulties in the way of my marriage. It is the same with you, Herminie. M. de Maillefort is certainly convinced that there can be no happiness for you and for M. de Senneterre save in your union, which seems even more uncertain than mine."

"Ah, my children, if you knew what kind of a woman the Duchesse de Senneterre is! I told you the other day, Herminie, when you asked me about her. I understand your motive now. But I tell you now, as I told you then, that no woman ever lived who was more absurdly vain of her rank."

"And yet Herminie says she will never marry Gerald unless Madame de Senneterre comes and tells her that she consents to this marriage. This only shows a proper pride in Herminie, though. You think so, too, do you not, M. de Maillefort?"

"She has made that resolve? Ah, what a brave and noble-hearted girl she is!" exclaimed the marquis. "This is still another proof of the laudable pride that makes me love her so much. Most assuredly I approve her decision. I admire it, too, for such a resolve could be born only of a noble soul. I no longer wonder at Gerald's ardent devotion."

"You hear what M. de Maillefort says, Herminie," said Ernestine. "Are you angry with me now for having betrayed your secret?"

"No, Ernestine," replied the duchess, gently. "I blame you only for one thing, and that is for grieving M. de Maillefort by telling him of misfortunes which he cannot remedy."

"But why may he not be able to remedy them?" retorted Ernestine. "You do not know him. You do not know the great influence he exerts in the world, – how much noble-hearted people love and admire him, and how abjectly afraid cowards and evil-doers are of him. And, then, he is so good, so kind to all who are in trouble; he loved my mother so dearly!"

And as M. de Maillefort, overwhelmed with emotion, averted his face to conceal his tears, Mlle. de Beaumesnil continued, in even more beseeching tones:

"Oh, is it not true that you feel all a father's solicitude for us, M. de Maillefort? Are we not sisters in your eyes, and in the tenderness and attachment we feel for you? Oh, do not, I beseech you, in mercy, do not desert us!"

And Ernestine seized one of the hunchback's hands, while Herminie, involuntarily following her friend's example, possessed herself of the other, saying, in entreating tones:

"Ah, M. de Maillefort, you are our only hope!"