Fairy Fingers Part 27

"You admire this set of diamonds and emeralds very much, then?" she asked, complacently.

"The _fleur-de-lis_ and shamrock," faltered Bertha, "where--where did they come from?"

Interpreting the unceremonious abruptness and singularity of the question into a spontaneous tribute paid to her costly ornaments, the marchioness graciously answered,--

"This _parure_ was a delicate attention from M. de Fleury. Not long after he presented these diamonds to me, by a very strange coincidence Vignon sent this dress for my approval. You observe how dexterously the device of the necklace is imitated. Can anything be more perfect than these lilies and shamrock leaves?"

Bertha hastily glanced at the rich white silk robe, trimmed with _revers_ of pale violet, upon which the lilies and shamrock were embroidered with some species of l.u.s.trous thread, which counterfeited not only the design but the sparkle of the gems. The marchioness went on,--

"Was it not odd that Vignon, famed as she is for novelties, should have chanced upon a dress which so exactly matched my new set? It quite makes me a convert to the science of animal magnetism. My mind, you see, was _en rapport_ with hers. Indeed she says so herself, for she could not otherwise explain the sudden inspiration which caused her to plan this tr.i.m.m.i.n.g. M. de Fleury wanted me to have these jewels set anew; but I would not allow them to be touched,--this old-fas.h.i.+oned setting is so remarkable, so unique. Probably there is not another like it to be found in Paris: _that_ is always vantage ground gained over one's jewel-wearing adversaries."

The marchioness, once launched upon her favorite stream of talk, would have sailed on interminably, had not the announcement of new guests floated her upon another current.

"I hope the spasms are going over, my dear," said the Marquis de Merrivale, who was really distressed by Bertha's supposed illness. "It was very clever to divert observation by talking about dresses and jewels; but the truffles did the mischief. I knew well enough what was the matter with you."

"No--no; it was those jewels," replied Bertha, who had not yet recovered her self-possession. "Those diamonds and emeralds were Madeleine's!"

"Madeleine's!" e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed Maurice, who had approached her on witnessing her unaccountable agitation. "Good heavens! is it possible?"

"Yes, they were Madeleine's,--they were her mother's jewels and had been in her family for generations. Madeleine showed them to me only a few nights before she left the Chateau de Gramont. I am sure of them. I would have recognized them anywhere."

"Then at last--at last, oh thank G.o.d--we shall trace her! She must have sold those jewels for her support. We must learn from whence Madame de Fleury purchased them," returned Maurice, with a voice trembling with exultation.

"Madame de Fleury said they were a _cadeau_ from the marquis," replied Bertha. "Come, let us find him,--let us ask him at once."

Bertha rose with animation and took her uncle's arm.

"Where are you going, my dear? Pray do not excite yourself again,"

pleaded her solicitous guardian. "Pray keep cool. Dinner must shortly be served, and you will not be in a fit state to do justice to the sumptuous repast which I have no doubt awaits us,--some of those novel inventions, perhaps, which you were so anxious to taste. I see people are not scrupulously punctual in Paris,--it is ten minutes after the time. Possibly we are waiting for some guest who has not sufficient good taste to remember that viands may be overdone through his culpability."

"I must speak to M. de Fleury," said Bertha. "Let us get nearer to him, that I may seize the first opportunity when he ceases talking to that pompous-looking old gentleman who has the left breast of his coat covered with decorations."

"Well, well, take it quietly--keep cool--don't get your blood into a ferment,--that's all I ask."

Her uncle led her across the room, accompanied by Maurice.

Diplomat and courtier were inscribed on every line of the wrinkled countenance of the Marquis de Fleury. He never took a step, or gave a look, or scarcely drew a breath, by which he had not some object to accomplish, some interest to promote. An oppressive suavity of manner, an exaggerated politeness encased him in an impenetrable armor, and prevented the real man from ever being reached beneath this smooth surface. Impulses he had none. The slightest motions of his wiry frame were studied. When he walked, he slid along as though he could not be guilty of so positive an action as that of planting his feet firmly upon what might prove "delicate ground." When he bowed, a contraction of sinews worthy of an _acrobat_ allowed his head to obtain an unnatural inclination, suggestive of a complimentary deference which humbled itself to the dust and kissed the garment's hem. Straightforwardness in word, thought, or action was to him as incomprehensible as it was impossible. He was a great general, ever standing on the political or social battle-field; skilful manoeuvres were the glory of his existence, and flattery the magical weapon never laid aside by which he gained his victories.

Madame de Fleury was thirty years his junior. He had purposely selected a young, pretty, harmless, well-dressed doll, as the being best suited to further his ends in the great world. He admired her sincerely. She reached the exact mental stature and standard which he looked upon as perfection in womanhood, and her absolute despotism in ruling the modes and creeds of the _beau monde_ were to him the highest proof of her superiority over the rest of her s.e.x.

Though he was engaged in a conversation with the emperor's grand chamberlain, which seemed deeply interesting to both parties, M. de Fleury broke off instantly when Bertha, with her uncle and Maurice, approached.

"You are so radiant to night, Mademoiselle de Merrivale," remarked the courtier, "that all eyes are fixed upon you. It is cruel of you to dazzle the vision of so many admirers!"

Bertha, without paying the slightest attention to these fulsome words, replied, "Will you pardon me, M. de Fleury, if I ask an impertinent question?"

"How could any question from such sovereign lips become other than a condescension? The queen of beauty commands in advance a reply to the most difficult problem which she can propound."

Bertha, with an impatient toss of her head, as though the buzz of this nonsensical verbiage stung her ears, plunged at once into the subject.

"That set of diamonds and emeralds which Madame de Fleury wears to-night were presented to her by you. Will you have the goodness to tell me from whence you procured them?"

For M. de Fleury to have given a direct answer, even in relation to such an apparent trifle, would have been contrary to his nature; besides, it was one of his rules not to impart information without learning for what object it was sought.

"You admire them?" he replied, evasively. "I am delighted, I am charmed with your approval of my taste. I shall think more highly of it forever after. The setting of the jewels is old-fas.h.i.+oned; but Madame de Fleury found it so novel that I could not prevail upon her to have it modernized."

"But you have not told me how the jewels came into your possession."

"Oh, very naturally, very naturally, lovely lady! They were not a fairy gift; they became mine by the very prosaic transaction of purchase."

Maurice could restrain himself no longer.

"My cousin is particularly desirous of learning through what source you obtained them. She has an important reason for her inquiry."

This explanation only placed the marquis more upon his guard.

"Ah, your captivating cousin thinks they look as though they had a history? Yes, yes; jewels of that kind generally have. Does the design strike you as remarkable, Mademoiselle de Merrivale?"

"Very remarkable,--and I have seen it before. I could not forget it. I wished to know"--

Dinner was announced at that moment, and the Duke de Montauban came forward and offered his arm to Bertha.

M. de Fleury, with lavish apologies for the interruption of a conversation which he p.r.o.nounced delightful, begged the Marquis de Merrivale to give his arm to Madame de Fleury, named to Maurice a young lady whom he would have the goodness to conduct, glided about the room to give similar instructions to other gentlemen, and, selecting an elderly lady, who was evidently a person of distinction, led the way to the dining-room.

Maurice stood still, looking perplexed and abstracted, and quite forgetting that he had any ceremonious duty to perform. Ronald, who from the time he had watched beside the viscount's sick-bed had not relinquished his friendly _surveillance_, noticed his absence of mind, and, as he pa.s.sed him, whispered,--

"My dear fellow, what is the matter? You are dreaming again. Rouse yourself! Some young lady must be waiting for your arm."

"Ronald," exclaimed Maurice, "something very singular has happened.

Madame de Fleury is wearing Madeleine's family jewels!"

"Bravo! That is cheering news, indeed! You will certainly be able to trace her now,--never fear! But you must get through this dinner first; so pray collect your scattered senses as expeditiously as possible."

Elated by these words of encouragement, and the hilarious tone in which they were uttered, Maurice shook off his musing mood, and proffered his arm to the niece of Madame de Fleury, whom he now remembered that the marquis had desired him to conduct.

During the dinner this young lady p.r.o.nounced the handsome cavalier, who had been a.s.signed to her, tantalizingly _distrait_, and secretly wished that the artistic _maitre d'hotel_ of her aunt had decorated the table with a less novel and attractive central ornament; for it seemed to her that the eyes of Maurice were constantly turned upon the miniature cherry-tree, of forced hot-house growth, that rose from a mossy mound in the centre of the festive board. The diminutive tree was covered with superb fruit, and girdled in by a circle of Liliputian grape-vines, each separate vine trained upon a golden rod, and heavily laden with luscious grapes, bunches of the clearest amber alternating with the deepest purple and richest crimson. Among the mosses of the mound were scattered the rarest products of the most opposite seasons; those of the present season being too natural to pamper the artificial tastes of luxury.

Truly, the arrangement was a charming exemplification of nature made subservient to art; but was it this magnet to which the eyes of Maurice were so irresistibly attracted? He chanced to be seated where his view of the hostess was partially intercepted by the hot-house wonder, and he was seeking in vain to catch a glimpse of those jewels which had been Madeleine's.

Bertha was placed nearer the marchioness, and the Duke de Montauban could not help noticing that her gaze was frequently fixed upon his sister; but being one of those men who are thoroughly convinced that what the French term "_chiffons_" is the most important interest of a woman's life, he consoled himself with the reflection that Mademoiselle de Merrivale was deeply engrossed by a contemplation of Madame de Fleury's elaborate toilet, and that her absent manner had this very feminine, reasonable, and altogether to be tolerated apology.

When Madame de Fleury and her guests swept back into the drawing-room, Monsieur de Fleury and the grand chamberlain were again closely engaged in some political battle. Maurice, after waiting impatiently for a favorable moment when he might come between the wordy belligerents, whispered to Ronald,--

"I am tortured to death! I shall never get an opportunity to ask the marquis about those jewels. My cousin was questioning him on the subject when dinner was announced; but he seemed to treat her inquiries as of so little importance that she was quite baffled in obtaining information."

"Why not attack him in a straightforward manner?" answered the positive young American. "Walk up to him and ask plainly for a few moments'

private conversation. Give him the reason of your inquiries, and demand an answer. Bring him to the point without any fancy fencing about the subject."

"I fear it will look very strange," replied Maurice, hesitating.