The Idol of Paris Part 23

Maurice and General van Berger supported Albert, who had lost his self-reliance and was a little crestfallen.

"Yes; I have been tortured again by some sort of repugnance," said Esperance. "I know that I should devote myself to loving that man.

But...."

"That will make for the happiness of all who love you."

"Yes, but it will be like condemning myself to death."

Genevieve s.h.i.+vered and grew silent, while pressing Esperance close to her side to give her courage. Her friend's confidences troubled her sadly. She also saw the shade of sorrow hovering over this pure face.

She was on the point of encouraging Esperance to refuse the union which would no doubt be proposed for her, but the recollection of the Duke haunted her. Was not this man more to be feared than death itself?

"These are silly notions that crowd your brain with presentiments and nightmares. You must rouse your energy, my darling, and chase everything that threatens to hurt your life."

"I swear to you, Genevieve, that I make superhuman efforts; but no one is master of his thoughts. They are so impulsive and rapid that they seem to escape the control of the will."

"Nevertheless we can deprive them of power!"

"Alas!... But I do not want to sadden you. Look! Maurice is getting anxious. Ah! you are going to be really happy, you are. I feel it.

True happiness is always found where love is equal."

Maurice could not resist crying out, at sight of the two girls, "How grave you both look! What were you talking about that you should spoil your beauty with furrows?"

The Count looked straight at Esperance and she could not prevent herself from blus.h.i.+ng.

"My G.o.d, have pity on me," she thought. "Help me to love this man."

After fifteen days of long walks, which grew longer every day, and constant care, Albert became completely cured. They had a party at the farm house to celebrate his recovery, with the garrison doctor for the only outside guest.

The portrait of the Count that Maurice had done proved to be quite a remarkable picture--life-like and natural. It was placed on the mantel-piece in Mme. Styvens's room, where she found it when she returned after lunch. It was accompanied by a very simple letter, but a very sincere one, recalling the courage of the young Count and n.o.bly expressing the grat.i.tude of all. It was written and signed by the philosopher, Mme. Darbois and Maurice. The beautiful portrait, so delicately presented, was a source of happy comfort to this lonely woman.

The next day the Countess had a long talk with her son. He was sitting at her feet.

"Reflect very carefully," she said to him, "reflect very carefully. I believe that that child, whom I love, whom I find absolutely charming, will not willingly renounce her art. However, I am ready to do all I can to persuade her to accede to our desire and leave a career which would be an endless source of worry and suffering for you, my dear son."

"Mama, do not trouble her too much. She is honest and loyal, and I have nothing to fear for the honour of my name."

And before his mother could speak he went on: "I am jealous, it is true, but what happiness is not willing to pay for itself with a little pain? Then, perhaps, she will understand. I love her so much, dear, dear mother."

She took the head of the dearly loved son in her hands, and looking deep in his eyes, said fervently--"Dear G.o.d! May happiness reward so great a love!"

The young Count returned with his mother to the farm where Francois Darbois and his wife waited for them by agreement. After a quarter of an hour's conversation, Esperance was asked to come to her parents.

She was in her room. Her heart beat as if it would break. She had been warned by Maurice of her family's interview with the Countess.

Genevieve was with her, extolling the advantages of such a union, at the same time exalting the real goodness of the Count.

"Think also of your father, who at last will be able to realize his dream of becoming a member of the Academy. You know as well as I do that he has every chance of being elected, but he will never present himself as long as you are on the stage. You know the straightlaced, old-fas.h.i.+oned ways of that a.s.sembly...."

"But most of them are poets and dramatic writers," replied Esperance.

"Why should my father care to belong to the Academy at all?"

As Genevieve rebuked her, her eyes filled with tears. "You see, Genevieve, I am becoming ungrateful. My nature, that I believed so frank and straightforward, seems to get tangled in unexpected twists trying to go the right way. Yes, yes, you are right; I must save myself from myself."

Just then the maid came into the room.

"Monsieur wants to see Mademoiselle. Madame and Countess Styvens are with him."

"Very well; say I will come immediately."

Esperance threw her arms around her friend's neck.

"If you could only know how I thank you."

She went to obey the summons of her parents, resolved and comforted by her friend's words. Her father gave her in a few words the Countess's message. She went forward, very much agitated, her lips trembling, her voice uncertain--"Madame, I thank G.o.d for giving me another mother who is so good, so lovable."

The Countess drew her to her, and held her in a long embrace. The saintly woman was praying that happiness should descend on this little creature who was to be her daughter.

Maurice, the Baron, Jean, Mlle. Frahender and Genevieve were all, during this interview, walking nervously in different directions about the farm Albert was in his mother's room, sitting down, his head in his hands, awaiting the decision which was to settle the joy or sorrow of his life. Maurice entered suddenly.

"Come on, cousin," he said, "they are waiting for you."

The young man sprang to his full height with complete command of his over-excited nerves.

"Ah! Maurice, Maurice...."

He threw his arms about the young man and was off on a run for the farm. He entered like one distraught, bent over his mother's hands, and covering them with kisses, murmuring half-finished phrases.

Esperance was beside the Countess. He stood an instant in silence before her, looking at her questioningly. Blus.h.i.+ng and embarra.s.sed the young girl held out her hands to him and replied low to the question in his eyes, "Yes."

Then he bent over her hand, and his lips murmured, "I thank you, Esperance, oh! I thank you."

They all pressed the hands of the two fiances. Mlle. Frahender and Genevieve kissed Esperance tenderly. The Baron thundered in his military voice, "There has been no battle, and yet here is the breath of victory. That is very good, but a little stifling. Let us have some air!"

The good man had expressed the general sentiment.

The Darbois, Mlle. Frahender and Jean were sitting in the shade of a little thicket of low, dark-needled pines and other trees with foliage green like water. Climbing flowers interlaced in the branches, making flecks of pink and white and violet. It was an ideal refuge from the heat and the wind. Maurice and Genevieve walked on ahead. Esperance and Albert sat down on the high point of rock that dominated the little landscape. For an instant they looked quietly without speaking.

Albert broke this restless silence, and said, as he took Esperance's hand, "I love you, Esperance, and I will do all that is in my power or beyond it to make you happy."

"I believe you, Albert, and I hope to be worthy of so devoted a love."

He looked at her very penetratingly. "I know that you are not yet in love with me."

"I do not know just how I love you, my dear, but I should always have turned to you if I had been in trouble."

"Have you never been in love?"

"No, I have been and am deeply touched by Jean Perliez's devotion, but I have never thought of the possibility of being happy with him."

"And the other?" asked Albert, looking straight at her with his clear eyes.

She did not answer at once.