Parisian Points of View Part 2

"Ah, how cowardly we are!" exclaimed Marceline, abruptly, changing her tone. "Yes, how cowardly we are to love them--those, those dreadful men, who know so little how to care for us. I say that for Gontran. What was he doing while I was telling you my sorrows, Aunt Louise? Quite calmly taking a trip around the world. But let him speak now, let him speak, especially as I cannot any more. In all my life I have never made so long a speech. Speak, sir; why were you going round the world?"

"Because your mother, on the morning of the day before you departed for Aix-les-Bains, had had a very long conversation with me."

"And she had said to you?"

"She had said to me, 'Put a stop to this; marry her or go away, and let her not hear of you again till her marriage.' And as I had for some time been debating whether to take a little trip to j.a.pan, I started for j.a.pan."

"He started for j.a.pan! That goes without saying. You hear him, Aunt Louise; he admits that this time last year he preferred to expatriate himself rather than marry me. So there he was in America, in China, and in j.a.pan. This lasted ten months; from time to time, humbly and timidly, I asked for news of him. He was very well; his last letter was from Shanghai, or Sidney, or Java. For me, not a word, not a remembrance--nothing, nothing, absolutely nothing!"

"I had promised your mother. One day at Yokohama I had bought you a lot of fascinating little things. The box was done up and addressed to you when I remembered my promise. I sent all those j.a.paneseries to your mother, thinking that you would have your share of the spoil."

"I had nothing at all. The arrival of the box was kept a secret. It would have been necessary to have p.r.o.nounced your name before me, and mamma didn't wish that. On the other hand, there was always one name on her lips--Courtalin. Still Courtalin, and always Courtalin. He had all qualities, all virtues. Then he had just lost his aunt in Brittany, and he had inherited something. It was thought that he would only have a quarter of the property, and he had had three-quarters. Besides, it was a country-seat, and all around this seat, an admirable domain, sixteen or seventeen hundred hectares. I say it to my shame, Aunt Louise, to my great shame, the thought of giving in came to me; and then, to be absolutely frank, it rather pleased me to become a d.u.c.h.ess; so mamma made me out a list of all possible husbands for me, and there was no other duke in the list but M. de Courtalin. There was, of course, the little Count of Limiers, who would be duke some day. But when? His father is forty-five and an athlete, and has an iron const.i.tution. So I was obliged to admit it when I talked it over with mamma in the evening.

To be d.u.c.h.ess it was necessary to agree on M. de Courtalin. Mamma, however, was perfect, and delightfully gentle. She did not press me, nor treat me harshly, nor torment me; she waited. Only I knew she had said to Mme. de Nelly: 'It will be accomplished, my dear, before the 20th of June. It must be.' Papa was obliged to return to Aix for his complaint.

The 20th of June was the date for his departure. I no longer said, 'No, no, no!' with that savage energy of the year before. You see, Gontran, I open my whole heart to you; you will have, I hope, soon the same courage and sincerity."

"You may be sure of it."

"I was waiting, however--I was waiting for his return. I wished to have with him a very serious conversation. It is quite true that I felt like fainting with fear at the mere thought of that explanation; but I was none the less resolved to speak, and I would speak. It seemed to me impossible that he had not thought of me sometimes out there in China and Cochin China. We had always loved each other (till the unhappy day on which I had become marriageable) with a tender and faithful affection! I knew that he would arrive in Paris during the night of the 2d or 3d of April. Very certainly the day after he would come and see us. And so, in fact, towards two o'clock he came. Mamma hadn't finished dressing; I was alone. I ran to him. 'Ah, how glad I am to see you!' and I kissed him with effusion. Then he, very much moved, yes, very much moved, kissed me, and began to say to me such nice and pretty things that I felt my heart melting. Ah, if mamma hadn't come for five minutes--I would only have asked for five minutes!--and how quickly it would have turned into love-making our little explanation!"

"Yes, that is true. The impulse that threw you into my arms was so sincere. Ah, very certainly it was that day, at that moment, that I began to love you. And then I looked at you. You were no longer the same. There was such great and happy change."

"He does not dare say it, Aunt Louise, but I will say it: I had become fatter. Ah, when I think that I might be d.u.c.h.ess of Courtalin if I had remained thin. Those men! Those men! What wretches! But mamma came in, then papa, and then my brother George. No explanation possible! There they all were engaged in an odious conversation on the comparative merits of the English and French boats--the English ones are faster, the food on the French ones is better, etc. It was charming! At the end of an hour Gontran went away, but not without giving me a very tender and eloquent hand-shake. I could wish nothing more speaking than that hand-shake. But mamma, who was observing us attentively, had clearly seen our two hands, after having found a way to say very pleasant things, had had a great deal of trouble in separating. I expected, of course, to see him the next day. Did you come?"

"No."

"And the day after that?"

"No, nor then."

"At last, after three days, mamma took me to the races at the Bois de Boulogne. We arrived, and there at once, two steps from me, I saw him.

But no, it was no longer he; frigid greeting, frigid good-day, frigid hand-shake, frigid words, and very few of them--scarcely a few sentences, awkward and embarra.s.sed. Then he was lost in the crowd, and that was all. He did not appear again. I was dumfounded, overcome, crushed."

"But it was your mother who--"

"Yes, I know now; but I did not know that day. Yes, it was mamma. Oh, must I not love mamma to have forgiven her that?"

"She had come to me very early in the morning the day after the very eloquent hand-shake and there, in tears--yes, literally in tears (she was sobbing)--she had appealed to my sense of honor, of delicacy, of integrity. 'You both had,' she said to me, 'yesterday, on seeing each other again after a long absence, a little spasm of emotion. That is all right; but you must stop there, and not prolong this foolishness,' And, just as I was going to protest: 'Oh yes; foolishness!' 'Remember, Marceline's happiness is at stake. You have no right to compromise her.

You come back from China all at once, and your abrupt return will break off more sensible, more studied arrangements. M. de Courtalin is thirty-four; he is a man of great knowledge and wisdom. However, I know that that is only a secondary consideration; but love pa.s.ses away, and money remains, and M. de Courtalin is richer, very much richer, than you. With him Marceline will have quite a grand position. Whereas you, you know how I love you, and I know how worthy you are of being loved.

You are charming, charming, charming.' It was your mother who spoke thus."

"I know; I know."

"'Yes, charming; but when I have said that, I have said all. So I will ask you this question, and I expect from you a faithful answer: Have you those solid qualities which alone can make a husband, a true husband?

Marceline is a little light-headed, a little frivolous, a little coquettish.' It is always your mother who is speaking."

"I know; I know."

"I was embarra.s.sed, Aunt Louise; it seemed to me that that speech was not without reason. I hadn't a very high idea of myself as a husband, and even now I ask myself--"

"Don't ask yourself anything. Be an affectionate husband, and you will have all the virtues. Nothing simpler, as you see. You can go on."

"Well, your mother was so skilfully persuasive that the day after, at the races, I gave that cold greeting."

"And so I, that same day, on entering the house, threw myself into mamma's arms, exclaiming, 'Yes, I am willing to marry M. de Courtalin!'

Ah, how many times between that day and the 16th of May I threw myself into mamma's arms! I did nothing else. Mamma got used to it, and never saw me appear without mechanically opening her arms. 'Yes, I am willing,' and sometimes, 'No, I am not.' But the 'No, I am nots' became fewer and fewer. M. de Courtalin, besides, was perfect; a model of tact, of gentleness, and of resignation. He waited, always in his black frock-coat, always b.u.t.toned, with an inexhaustible patience. Mamma was, in short, pledged to Mme. de Courtalin, and I felt the circle tighten round me. The papers announced, in a covert but transparent way, that there was question of an alliance between two families of the Faubourg Saint-Germain, and they made it pretty clear that it concerned two important families. I already received vague congratulations, and I dared respond only by vague denials. The morning of the famous 17th of May mamma had said to me, 'Come, my child, don't make a martyr of that poor boy. Since it is to be "yes," for it will be "yes," you know yourself, say "yes" at once.' I had obtained only a miserable respite of twenty-four hours; and things were thus when, still on the 17th of May, mamma and I arrived, a little late (after eleven), at Mme. de Vernieux's, who was giving a ball, a very large ball. I went in, and I had at once the feeling that I must be looking extremely well that evening. They formed into a little hedge along my way, and I heard a little 'oh!' of surprise, and a big 'ah!' of admiration which went straight to my heart. I had had already in society certain successes, but never any as marked as that one. M. de Courtalin came towards me. He wished to engage me for all the waltzes, for all the quadrilles, for the entire evening, for the night, for life. I answered him: 'Later, presently, we will see. I feel a little tired.' The fact was I hadn't the heart to dance. Mamma and I took our seats. A waltz began. Mamma scolded softly: 'Dance with him, my child, I beg.' I didn't listen to her. I was abstractedly looking around the room when suddenly I saw in a corner two eyes fixed, fastened, pinioned on me--two eyes that I well knew, but that I had some difficulty in recognizing, for they were tremendously enlarged by a sort of stupor."

"Say by overwhelming admiration."

"As you please But it is here, Aunt Louise, that my interrogation will begin. Why and how were you there? Where had you dined, Gontran?"

"At the club."

"And what did you intend to do after dinner? Come to Mme. de Vernieux's?"

"No; Robert d'Aigremont and I had meant to go to the Bouffes-Parisiens."

"You did not go? Why?"

"We had telephoned from the club to have a box; all were sold--"

"So you said to Robert--"

"I said to Robert, 'Let's play bezique;' and I was beaten by one of those streaks of bad luck--34,000 points in a dozen games--so thoroughly that towards half-past ten I thought that bezique had lasted long enough--"

"And so--"

"And so--"

"So Robert wished to bring you to Mme. de Vernieux's. And you didn't want to go! If you hadn't come, however, and if there had been a box at the Bouffes-Parisiens, or if you had won at bezique, my marriage with M.

de Courtalin would have been publicly announced the next day."

"Yes, but I came; and there I was in the corner looking at you, looking at you, looking at you. It was you, and yet not you--"

"I, immediately on seeing the way you were looking at me, understood that something extraordinary was going to happen. Your eyes shone, burned, blazed!"

"Because I had discovered that you were simply the prettiest woman of the ball, where all the prettiest women of Paris were. Yes, the prettiest, and such shoulders, such shoulders!"

"Ripe! in fact, I was ripe!"

"My head was turned at once. I saw Courtalin manoeuvring and trying to get near you. I understood that there was not a moment to be lost. To reach there ahead of Courtalin I threw myself intrepidly into the midst of the room, among the waltzers, pus.h.i.+ng and being pushed. I forged a pa.s.sage and tore into rags one of the lace flounces of Mme. de Lornans--she hasn't yet forgiven me. But I got there--I got there before Courtalin, and threw myself on you, and took you round your waist (I can still hear your little cry), and I dragged you off."

"Mamma had scarcely time to scream 'Marceline, Marceline!' when I was there no more. He had lifted me off, and carried me away; and we were waltzing wildly, furiously!--oh, what a waltz!--and he was saying to me: 'I love you! I adore you! You are grace and beauty itself! There is only one pretty woman here--you; and it is I who will be your husband. I, do you hear? I, and not another!' And I, quite suffocated with surprise, pleasure, and emotion, allowed myself to be nearly carried by him, but I kept begging him to speak lower. 'Anything you wish; yes, I will be your wife; but take care--you will be heard--you will be heard.'"

"That is what I wished; and I continued, 'I love you! I adore you!'"

"Then I, absolutely breathless: 'Not so fast. I pray, not so fast; I shall fall. I a.s.sure you everything is going round, everything is going round. Let us stop.' 'No, no; don't let's stop. Keep on still. If we stop your mother will separate us, and I have still so many things to say to you--so many things, so many things. Swear to me that you will be my wife.' 'Yes, I swear it; but enough, enough--' I was smothering. He heard nothing. He was going, going like a madman. We had become a hurricane, a whirlwind, a cyclone. We caused surprise and fright. No one danced any more, but looked at us. And he held me so close, and his face was so near my face, his lips so near my lips, that all at once I felt myself giving way. I slipped, and let myself into his arms. A cloud pa.s.sed before my eyes; I could not speak nor think; then blankness.

Everything had disappeared before me in a vertigo not too disagreeable, I must say. I had fainted, absolutely fainted."