LITMIR.BIZ

Скачать книгу

it."

      "And yet I can assure you that the cause of this deadly feud, half in jest, and half in earnest as it is, originates in the most simple circumstance. Were it not that a third party is implicated in it, I should have explained the whole to you long ago. But what is the matter, my dear child? You seem as though your thoughts were far from the present scene."

      "Nothing, nothing, I assure you," replied the marquise, faintly; "but the gallery is so very hot, it gave me a violent headache. Let us sit down here for a minute or two. I hope and believe it will soon be better."

      "You are right; see, here is a nice quiet corner, where you will be in perfect safety from the researches of those who are lamenting your absence," added Sarah, pronouncing the last words with marked emphasis.

      The two ladies then seated themselves on a divan, almost concealed beneath the clustering shrubs and overhanging plants.

      "I said those who would be lamenting your absence, my dear Clémence—come, own that I deserve praise for so discreetly forming my speech."

      The marquise blushed slightly, cast down her eyes, but spoke not.

      "How unreasonable you are!" exclaimed Sarah, in a tone of friendly reproach. "Can you not trust me, my dear child?—yes, child; for am I not old enough to be your mother?"

      "Not trust you?" uttered the marquise, sadly; "alas! have I not on the contrary confessed that to you which I should hardly have dared to own to myself?"

      "Well, then, come, rouse yourself; now, let us have a little talk about him: and so you have really sworn to drive him to despair?"

      "For the love of heaven," exclaimed Madame d'Harville, "think what you are saying!"

      "I tell you I know him better than you do, my poor child; he is a man of cool and decided energy, who sets but little value on his life; he has had misfortunes enough to make him quite weary of it; and it really seems as if you daily found greater pleasure in tormenting him, and playing with his feelings."

      "Is it possible you can really think so?"

      "Indeed, in spite of myself, I cannot refrain from entertaining that opinion. Oh, if you but knew how over-susceptible some minds are rendered by a continuance of sorrows and afflictions—just now I saw two large tears fall from his eyes, as he gazed on you."

      "Are you quite sure of what you say?"

      "Indeed, I am quite certain; and that, too, in a ballroom, at the risk of becoming an object of general derision, if this uncontrollable misery were perceived! Ah! let me tell you, a person must truly love to bear all this, and even to be careless about concealing his sufferings from the world."

      "For the love of heaven, do not speak thus!" replied Madame d'Harville, in a voice trembling with emotion. "Alas! you have touched me nearly; I know too well what it is to struggle with a hidden grief, yet wear an outward expression of calmness and resignation. Alas! alas! 'tis the deep pity and commiseration I feel for him has been my ruin," added she, almost unconsciously.

      "Nonsense! What an over-nice person you are, to talk of a little innocent flirtation being ruinous, and that, too, with a man so scrupulously guarded as to abstain from ever appearing in your husband's presence, for fear of compromising you. You must admit that M. Charles Robert is a man of surprising honour, delicacy, and real feeling. I feel the more inclined to espouse his cause from the recollection that you have never met him elsewhere but at my house, and because I can answer for his principles, and that his devoted attachment to you can only be equalled by the deep respect he bears you."

      "I have never doubted the many noble qualities you have so repeatedly assured me he possesses, but you know well that it is his long succession of bitter afflictions which have so warmly interested me in his favour."

      "And well does he merit this interest, and most fully do his excellent qualities absolve you of all blame in thus bestowing it. Surely so fine and noble a countenance bespeaks a mind equally superior to all mankind. How completely are you reminded, while gazing on his tall and finely proportioned figure, of the preux chevaliers of bygone days,'sans peur et sans reproche.' I once saw him dressed in his uniform as commandant of the national guard, and, handsome as he is, I really think he looked surpassingly well, and I could but say to myself, that, if nobility were the award of inward merit and external beauty, M. Charles Robert, instead of being so called, would take precedence of nearly all our dukes and peers. Would he not be a fitting representative of any of the most distinguished families in France?"

      "You know, my dear countess, how very little importance I attach to mere birth, and you yourself have frequently reproached me with being strongly inclined to republicanism," said Madame d'Harville, smiling gently.

      "For my own part, I always thought, with you, that M. Charles Robert required not the aid of rank or titles to render him worthy of universal admiration. Then, what extreme talent he possesses! What a fine voice he has! And what delightful morning concerts we three have been able to achieve, owing to his all-powerful assistance! Ah, my dear Clémence, do you remember the first time you ever sang with him: what passionate expression did he not throw into the words of that beautiful duet, so descriptive of his love, and his fear of offending her who was the object of it, by revealing it?"

      "Let me entreat of you," said Madame d'Harville, after a long silence, "to speak of something else; indeed I dare not listen further: what you but just now intimated of his depressed and unhappy appearance has caused me much pain."

      "Nay, my dear friend, I meant not to grieve you, but merely to point out the probability that a man, rendered doubly sensitive by the succession of past misfortunes, might feel his courage insufficient to encounter the fresh trial of your rejection of his suit, and thus be induced to end his hopeless love and his life together."

      "Oh, no more! no more!" almost shrieked Madame d'Harville, interrupting Sarah; "this fearful idea has glanced across my mind already." Then, after a second silence of some minutes, the marquise resumed, "Let us, as I said before, talk of somebody else—of your mortal enemy, for instance," added she, with assumed gaiety of manner; "come, we will take the prince for a fresh theme of conversation; I had not seen him, previously to this evening, for a very long time. Do you know that I think he looks handsomer than ever? Though all but king, he has lost none of the winning sweetness and affability of his manner, and, spite of my republicanism, I must confess I have seldom, if ever, known so irresistible a person."

      Sarah threw a side glance of deep and scrutinising hatred upon her unconscious rival, but, quickly recovering herself, she said, gaily:

      "Now, my dear Clémence, you must confess to being a most capricious little lady; you have regular alternating paroxysms of admiration and violent dislike for the prince; why, a few months ago, I mean about his first arrival here, you were so captivated by him, that, between ourselves, I was half afraid you had lost your heart past all hope of recall."

      "Thanks to you," replied Madame d'Harville, smiling, "my admiration was very short-lived; for so well did you act up to your character of the prince's sworn foe, and such fearful tales did you tell me of his profligacy and misconduct, that you succeeded in inspiring me with an aversion as powerful as had been the infatuation which led you to fear for the safety of my heart; which, by the way, I cannot think would ever have been placed in any danger from the attempts of your enemy to disturb its repose, since, shortly before you gave me those frightful particulars of the prince's character, he had quite ceased to honour me with his visits, although on the most intimate and friendly terms with my husband."

      "Talking of your husband, pray is he here to-night?" inquired Sarah.

      "No," replied Madame d'Harville, in a tone of embarrassment; "he preferred remaining at home."

      "He seems to me to mix less and less in the world."

      "He never liked what is called fashionable gaiety."

      The marquise's agitation visibly increased; and Sarah, whose quick eye easily perceived it, continued:

      "The last time I saw him he looked even paler than usual."

      "He has been very much out

Скачать книгу