DOMESTIC PEACE

 BY

 HONORE DE BALZAC

 Translated By Ellen Marriage and Clara Bell

 Dedicated to my dear niece Valentine Surville. 

The incident recorded in this sketch took place towards the end of themonth of November, 1809, the moment when Napoleon's fugitive empireattained the apogee of its splendor. The trumpet-blasts of Wagram werestill sounding an echo in the heart of the Austrian monarchy. Peacewas being signed between France and the Coalition. Kings and princescame to perform their orbits, like stars, round Napoleon, who gavehimself the pleasure of dragging all Europe in his train--amagnificent experiment in the power he afterwards displayed atDresden. Never, as contemporaries tell us, did Paris seeentertainments more superb than those which preceded and followed thesovereign's marriage with an Austrian archduchess. Never, in the mostsplendid days of the Monarchy, had so many crowned heads thronged theshores of the Seine, never had the French aristocracy been so rich orso splendid. The diamonds lavishly scattered over the women's dresses, and the gold and silver embroidery on the uniforms contrasted sostrongly with the penury of the Republic, that the wealth of the globeseemed to be rolling through the drawing-rooms of Paris. Intoxicationseemed to have turned the brains of this Empire of a day. All themilitary, not excepting their chief, reveled like parvenus in thetreasure conquered for them by a million men with worsted epaulettes, whose demands were satisfied by a few yards of red ribbon. 

At this time most women affected that lightness of conduct andfacility of morals which distinguished the reign of Louis XV. Whetherit were in imitation of the tone of the fallen monarchy, or becausecertain members of the Imperial family had set the example--as certainmalcontents of the Faubourg Saint-Germain chose to say--it is certainthat men and women alike flung themselves into a life of pleasure withan intrepidity which seemed to forbode the end of the world. But therewas at that time another cause for such license. The infatuation ofwomen for the military became a frenzy, and was too consonant to theEmperor's views for him to try to check it. The frequent calls toarms, which gave every treaty concluded between Napoleon and the restof Europe the character of an armistice, left every passion open to atermination as sudden as the decisions of the Commander-in-chief ofall these busbys, pelisses, and aiguillettes, which so fascinated thefair sex. Hearts were as nomadic as the regiments. Between the firstand fifth bulletins from the /Grand Armee/ a woman might be insuccession mistress, wife, mother, and widow. 

Was it the prospect of early widowhood, the hope of a jointure, orthat of bearing a name promised to history, which made the soldiers soattractive? Were women drawn to them by the certainty that the secretof their passions would be buried on the field of battle? or may wefind the reason of this gentle fanaticism in the noble charm thatcourage has for a woman? Perhaps all these reasons, which the futurehistorian of the manners of the Empire will no doubt amuse himself byweighing, counted for something in their facile readiness to abandonthemselves to love intrigues. Be that as it may, it must here beconfessed that at that time laurels hid many errors, women showed anardent preference for the brave adventurers, whom they regarded as thetrue fount of honor, wealth, or pleasure; and in the eyes of younggirls, an epaulette--the hieroglyphic of a future--signified happinessand liberty. 

One feature, and a characteristic one, of this unique period in ourhistory was an unbridled mania for everything glittering. Never werefireworks so much in vogue, never were diamonds so highly prized. Themen, as greedy as the women of these translucent pebbles, displayedthem no less lavishly. Possibly the necessity for carrying plunder inthe most portable form made gems the fashion in the army. A man wasnot ridiculous then, as he would be now, if his shirt-frill or hisfingers blazed with large diamonds. Murat, an Oriental by nature, setthe example of preposterous luxury to modern soldiers. 

The Comte de Gondreville, formerly known as Citizen Malin, whoseelevation had made him famous, having become a Lucullus of theConservative Senate, which "conserved" nothing, had postponed anentertainment in honor of the peace only that he might the better payhis court to Napoleon by his efforts to eclipse those flatterers whohad been before-hand with him. The ambassadors from all the Powersfriendly with France, with an eye to favors to come, the mostimportant personages of the Empire, and even a few princes, were atthis hour assembled in the wealthy senator's drawing-rooms. Dancingflagged; every one was watching for the Emperor, whose presence theCount had promised his guests. And Napoleon would have kept his wordbut for the scene which had broken out that very evening between himand Josephine--the scene which portended the impending divorce of theaugust pair. The report of this incident, at the time kept verysecret, but recorded by history, did not reach the ears of thecourtiers, and had no effect on the gaiety of Comte de Gondreville'sparty beyond keeping Napoleon away. 

The prettiest women in Paris, eager to be at the Count's on thestrength of mere hearsay, at this moment were a besieging force ofluxury, coquettishness, elegance, and beauty. The financial world, proud of its riches, challenged the splendor of the generals and highofficials of the Empire, so recently gorged with orders, titles, andhonors. These grand balls were always an opportunity seized upon bywealthy families for introducing their heiresses to Napoleon'sPraetorian Guard, in the foolish hope of exchanging their splendidfortunes for uncertain favors. The women who believed themselvesstrong enough in their beauty alone came to test their power. There, as elsewhere, amusement was but a blind. Calm and smiling faces andplacid brows covered sordid interests, expressions of friendship werea lie, and more than one man was less distrustful of his enemies thanof his friends. 

These remarks are necessary to explain the incidents of the littleimbroglio which is the subject of this study, and the picture, softened as it is, of the tone then dominant in Paris drawing-rooms. 

"Turn your eyes a little towards the pedestal supporting thatcandelabrum--do you see a young lady with her hair drawn back /a laChinoise/!--There, in the corner to the left; she has bluebells in theknot of chestnut curls which fall in clusters on her head. Do not yousee her? She is so pale you might fancy she was ill, delicate-looking, and very small; there--now she is turning her head this way; heralmond-shaped blue eyes, so delightfully soft, look as if they weremade expressly for tears. Look, look! She is bending forward to seeMadame de Vaudremont below the crowd of heads in constant motion; thehigh head-dresses prevent her having a clear view. "

"I see her now, my dear fellow. You had only to say that she had thewhitest skin of all the women here; I should have known whom youmeant. I had noticed her before; she has the loveliest complexion Iever admired. From hence I defy you to see against her throat thepearls between the sapphires of her necklace. But she is a prude or acoquette, for the tucker of her bodice scarcely lets one suspect thebeauty of her bust. What shoulders! what lily-whiteness!"

"Who is she?" asked the first speaker. 

"Ah! that I do not know. "

"Aristocrat!--Do you want to keep them all to yourself, Montcornet?"

"You of all men to banter me!" replied Montcornet, with a smile. "Doyou think you have a right to insult a poor general like me because, being a happy rival of Soulanges, you cannot even turn on your heelwithout alarming Madame de Vaudremont? Or is it because I came only amonth ago into the Promised Land? How insolent you can be, you men inoffice, who sit glued to your chairs while we are dodging shot andshell! Come, Monsieur le Maitre des Requetes, allow us to glean in thefield of which you can only have precarious possession from the momentwhen we evacuate it. The deuce is in it! We have a right to live! Mygood friend, if you knew the German women, you would, I believe, do mea good turn with the Parisian you love best. "

"Well, General, since you have vouchsafed to turn your attention tothat lady, whom I never saw till now, have the charity to tell me ifyou have seen her dance. "

"Why, my dear Martial, where have you dropped from? If you are eversent with an embassy, I have small hopes of your success. Do not yousee a triple rank of the most undaunted coquettes of Paris between herand the swarm of dancing men that buzz under the chandelier? And wasit not only by the help of your eyeglass that you were able todiscover her at all in the corner by that pillar, where she seemsburied in the gloom, in spite of the candles blazing above her head?Between her and us there is such a sparkle of diamonds and glances, somany floating plumes, such a flutter of lace, of flowers and curls, that it would be a real miracle if any dancer could detect her amongthose stars. Why, Martial, how is it that you have not understood herto be the wife of some sous-prefet from Lippe or Dyle, who has come totry to get her husband promoted?"

"Oh, he will be!" exclaimed the Master of Appeals quickly. 

"I doubt it, " replied the Colonel of Cuirassiers, laughing. "She seemsas raw in intrigue as you are in diplomacy. I dare bet, Martial, thatyou do not know how she got into that place. "

The lawyer looked at the Colonel of Cuirassiers with an expression asmuch of contempt as of curiosity. 

"Well, " proceeded Montcornet, "she arrived, I have no doubt, punctually at nine, the first of the company perhaps, and probably shegreatly embarrassed the Comtesse de Gondreville, who cannot put twoideas together. Repulsed by the mistress of the house, routed fromchair to chair by each newcomer, and driven into the darkness of thislittle corner, she allowed herself to be walled in, the victim of thejealousy of the other ladies, who would gladly have buried thatdangerous beauty. She had, of course, no friend to encourage her tomaintain the place she first held in the front rank; then each ofthose treacherous fair ones would have enjoined on the men of hercircle on no account to take out our poor friend, under pain of theseverest punishment. That, my dear fellow, is the way in which thosesweet faces, in appearance so tender and so artless, would have formeda coalition against the stranger, and that without a word beyond thequestion, 'Tell me, dear, do you know that little woman in blue?'--Look here, Martial, if you care to run the gauntlet of moreflattering glances and inviting questions than you will ever againmeet in the whole of your life, just try to get through the triplerampart which defends that Queen of Dyle, or Lippe, or Charente. Youwill see whether the dullest woman of them all will not be equal toinventing some wile that would hinder the most determined man frombringing the plaintive stranger to the light. Does it not strike youthat she looks like an elegy?"

"Do you think so, Montcornet? Then she must be a married woman?"

"Why not a widow?"

"She would be less passive, " said the lawyer, laughing. 

"She is perhaps the widow of a man who is gambling, " replied thehandsome Colonel. 

"To be sure; since the peace there are so many widows of that class!"said Martial. "But my dear Montcornet, we are a couple of simpletons. That face is still too ingenuous, there is too much youth andfreshness on the brow and temples for her to be married. What splendidflesh-tints! Nothing has sunk in the modeling of the nose. Lips, chin, everything in her face is as fresh as a white rosebud, though theexpression is veiled, as it were, by the clouds of sadness. Who can itbe that makes that young creature weep?"

"Women cry for so little, " said the Colonel. 

"I do not know, " replied Martial; "but she does not cry because she isleft there without a partner; her grief is not of to-day. It isevident that she has beautified herself for this evening withintention. I would wager that she is in love already. "

"Bah! She is perhaps the daughter of some German princeling; no onetalks to her, " said Montcornet. 

"Dear! how unhappy a poor child may be!" Martial went on. "Can therebe anything more graceful and refined than our little stranger? Well, not one of those furies who stand round her, and who believe that theycan feel, will say a word to her. If she would but speak, we shouldsee if she has fine teeth. 

"Bless me, you boil over like milk at the least increase oftemperature!" cried the Colonel, a little nettled at so soon finding arival in his friend. 

"What!" exclaimed the lawyer, without heeding the Colonel's question. "Can nobody here tell us the name of this exotic flower?"

"Some lady companion!" said Montcornet. 

"What next? A companion! wearing sapphires fit for a queen, and adress of Malines lace? Tell that to the marines, General. You, too, would not shine in diplomacy if, in the course of your conjectures, you jump in a breath from a German princess to a lady companion. "

Montcornet stopped a man by taking his arm--a fat little man, whoseiron-gray hair and clever eyes were to be seen at the lintel of everydoorway, and who mingled unceremoniously with the various groups whichwelcomed him respectfully. 

"Gondreville, my friend, " said Montcornet, "who is that quite charminglittle woman sitting out there under that huge candelabrum?"

"The candelabrum? Ravrio's work; Isabey made the design. "

"Oh, I recognized your lavishness and taste; but the lady?"

"Ah! I do not know. Some friend of my wife's, no doubt. "

"Or your mistress, you old rascal. "

"No, on my honor. The Comtesse de Gondreville is the only personcapable of inviting people whom no one knows. "

In spite of this very acrimonious comment, the fat little man's lipsdid not lose the smile which the Colonel's suggestion had brought tothem. Montcornet returned to the lawyer, who had rejoined aneighboring group, intent on asking, but in vain, for information asto the fair unknown. He grasped Martial's arm, and said in his ear:

"My dear Martial, mind what you are about. Madame de Vaudremont hasbeen watching you for some minutes with ominous attentiveness; she isa woman who can guess by the mere movement of your lips what you sayto me; our eyes have already told her too much; she has perceived andfollowed their direction, and I suspect that at this moment she isthinking even more than we are of the little blue lady. "

"That is too old a trick in warfare, my dear Montcornet! However, whatdo I care? Like the Emperor, when I have made a conquest, I keep it. "

"Martial, your fatuity cries out for a lesson. What! you, a civilian, and so lucky as to be the husband-designate of Madame de Vaudremont, awidow of two-and-twenty, burdened with four thousand napoleons a year--a woman who slips such a diamond as this on your finger, " he added, taking the lawyer's left hand, which the young man complacentlyallowed; "and, to crown all, you affect the Lovelace, just as if youwere a colonel and obliged to keep up the reputation of the militaryin home quarters! Fie, fie! Only think of all you may lose. "

"At any rate, I shall not lose my liberty, " replied Martial, with aforced laugh. 

He cast a passionate glance at Madame de Vaudremont, who respondedonly by a smile of some uneasiness, for she had seen the Colonelexamining the lawyer's ring. 

"Listen to me, Martial. If you flutter round my young stranger, Ishall set to work to win Madame de Vaudremont. "

"You have my full permission, my dear Cuirassier, but you will notgain this much, " and the young Maitre des Requetes put his polishedthumb-nail under an upper tooth with a little mocking click. 

"Remember that I am unmarried, " said the Colonel; "that my sword is mywhole fortune; and that such a challenge is setting Tantalus down to abanquet which he will devour. "

"Prrr. "

This defiant roll of consonants was the only reply to the Colonel'sdeclaration, as Martial looked him from head to foot before turningaway. 

The fashion of the time required men to wear at a ball whitekerseymere breeches and silk stockings. This pretty costume showed togreat advantage the perfection of Montcornet's fine shape. He wasfive-and-thirty, and attracted attention by his stalwart height, insisted on for the Cuirassiers of the Imperial Guard whose handsomeuniform enhanced the dignity of his figure, still youthful in spite ofthe stoutness occasioned by living on horseback. A black moustacheemphasized the frank expression of a thoroughly soldierly countenance, with a broad, high forehead, an aquiline nose, and bright red lips. Montcornet's manner, stamped with a certain superiority due to thehabit of command, might please a woman sensible enough not to aim atmaking a slave of her husband. The Colonel smiled as he looked at thelawyer, one of his favorite college friends, whose small figure madeit necessary for Montcornet to look down a little as he answered hisraillery with a friendly glance. 

Baron Martial de la Roche-Hugon was a young Provencal patronized byNapoleon; his fate might probably be some splendid embassy. He had wonthe Emperor by his Italian suppleness and a genius for intrigue, adrawing-room eloquence, and a knowledge of manners, which are so gooda substitute for the higher qualities of a sterling man. Through youngand eager, his face had already acquired the rigid brilliancy oftinned iron, one of the indispensable characteristics of diplomatists, which allows them to conceal their emotions and disguise theirfeelings, unless, indeed, this impassibility indicates an absence ofall emotion and the death of every feeling. The heart of a diplomatemay be regarded as an insoluble problem, for the three mostillustrious ambassadors of the time have been distinguished byperdurable hatreds and most romantic attachments. 

Martial, however, was one of those men who are capable of reckoning onthe future in the midst of their intensest enjoyment; he had alreadylearned to judge the world, and hid his ambition under the fatuity ofa lady-killer, cloaking his talent under the commonplace of mediocrityas soon as he observed the rapid advancement of those men who gave themaster little umbrage. 

The two friends now had to part with a cordial grasp of hands. Theintroductory tune, warning the ladies to form in squares for a freshquadrille, cleared the men away from the space they had filled whiletalking in the middle of the large room. This hurried dialogue hadtaken place during the usual interval between two dances, in front ofthe fireplace of the great drawing-room of Gondreville's mansion. Thequestions and answers of this very ordinary ballroom gossip had beenalmost whispered by each of the speakers into his neighbor's ear. Atthe same time, the chandeliers and the flambeaux on the chimney-shelfshed such a flood of light on the two friends that their faces, strongly illuminated, failed, in spite of their diplomatic discretion, to conceal the faint expression of their feelings either from thekeen-sighted countess or the artless stranger. This espionage ofpeople's thoughts is perhaps to idle persons one of the pleasures theyfind in society, while numbers of disappointed numskulls are boredthere without daring to own it. 

Fully to appreciate the interest of this conversation, it is necessaryto relate an incident which would presently serve as an invisiblebond, drawing together the actors in this little drama, who were atpresent scattered through the rooms. 

At about eleven o'clock, just as the dancers were returning to theirseats, the company had observed the entrance of the handsomest womanin Paris, the queen of fashion, the only person wanting to thebrilliant assembly. She made it a rule never to appear till the momentwhen a party had reached that pitch of excited movement which does notallow the women to preserve much longer the freshness of their facesor of their dress. This brief hour is, as it were, the springtime of aball. An hour after, when pleasure falls flat and fatigue isencroaching, everything is spoilt. Madame de Vaudremont nevercommitted the blunder of remaining at a party to be seen with droopingflowers, hair out of curl, tumbled frills, and a face like every otherthat sleep is courting--not always without success. She took good carenot to let her beauty be seen drowsy, as her rivals did; she was soclever as to keep up her reputation for smartness by always leaving aballroom in brilliant order, as she had entered it. Women whispered toeach other with a feeling of envy that she planned and wore as manydifferent dresses as the parties she went to in one evening. 

On the present occasion Madame de Vaudremont was not destined to befree to leave when she would the ballroom she had entered in triumph. Pausing for a moment on the threshold, she shot swift but observantglances on the women present, hastily scrutinizing their dresses toassure herself that her own eclipsed them all. 

The illustrious beauty presented herself to the admiration of thecrowd at the same moment with one of the bravest colonels of theGuards' Artillery and the Emperor's favorite, the Comte de Soulanges. The transient and fortuitous association of these two had about it acertain air of mystery. On hearing the names announced of Monsieur deSoulanges and the Comtesse de Vaudremont, a few women sitting by thewall rose, and men, hurrying in from the side-rooms, pressed forwardto the principal doorway. One of the jesters who are always to befound in any large assembly said, as the Countess and her escort camein, that "women had quite as much curiosity about seeing a man who wasfaithful to his passion as men had in studying a woman who wasdifficult to enthrall. "

Though the Comte de Soulanges, a young man of about two-and-thirty, was endowed with the nervous temperament which in a man gives rise tofine qualities, his slender build and pale complexion were not atfirst sight attractive; his black eyes betrayed great vivacity, but hewas taciturn in company, and there was nothing in his appearance toreveal the gift for oratory which subsequently distinguished him, onthe Right, in the legislative assembly under the Restoration. 

The Comtesse de Vaudremont, a tall woman, rather fat, with a skin ofdazzling whiteness, a small head that she carried well, and theimmense advantage of inspiring love by the graciousness of her manner, was one of those beings who keep all the promise of their beauty. 

The pair, who for a few minutes were the centre of generalobservation, did not for long give curiosity an opportunity ofexercising itself about them. The Colonel and the Countess seemedperfectly to understand that accident had placed them in an awkwardposition. Martial, as they came forward, had hastened to join thegroup of men by the fireplace, that he might watch Madame deVaudremont with the jealous anxiety of the first flame of passion, from behind the heads which formed a sort of rampart; a secret voiceseemed to warn him that the success on which he prided himself mightperhaps be precarious. But the coldly polite smile with which theCountess thanked Monsieur de Soulanges, and her little bow ofdismissal as she sat down by Madame de Gondreville, relaxed themuscles of his face which jealousy had made rigid. Seeing Soulanges, however, still standing quite near the sofa on which Madame deVaudremont was seated, not apparently having understood the glance bywhich the lady had conveyed to him that they were both playing aridiculous part, the volcanic Provencal again knit the black browsthat overshadowed his blue eyes, smoothed his chestnut curls to keephimself in countenance, and without betraying the agitation which madehis heart beat, watched the faces of the Countess and of M. DeSoulanges while still chatting with his neighbors. He then took thehand of Colonel Montcornet, who had just renewed their oldacquaintance, but he listened to him without hearing him; his mind waselsewhere. 

Soulanges was gazing calmly at the women, sitting four ranks deep allround the immense ballroom, admiring this dado of diamonds, rubies, masses of gold and shining hair, of which the lustre almost outshonethe blaze of waxlights, the cutglass of the chandeliers, and thegilding. His rival's stolid indifference put the lawyer out ofcountenance. Quite incapable of controlling his secret transports ofimpatience, Martial went towards Madame de Vaudremont with a bow. Onseeing the Provencal, Soulanges gave him a covert glance, andimpertinently turned away his head. Solemn silence now reigned in theroom, where curiosity was at the highest pitch. All these eager faceswore the strangest mixed expressions; every one apprehended one ofthose outbreaks which men of breeding carefully avoid. Suddenly theCount's pale face turned as red as the scarlet facings of his coat, and he fixed his gaze on the floor that the cause of his agitationmight not be guessed. On catching sight of the unknown lady humblyseated by the pedestal of the candelabrum, he moved away with amelancholy air, passing in front of the lawyer, and took refuge in oneof the cardrooms. Martial and all the company thought that Soulangeshad publicly surrendered the post, out of fear of the ridicule whichinvariably attaches to a discarded lover. The lawyer proudly raisedhis head and looked at the strange lady; then, as he took his seat athis ease near Madame de Vaudremont, he listened to her soinattentively that he did not catch these words spoken behind her fan:

"Martial, you will oblige me this evening by not wearing that ringthat you snatched from me. I have my reasons, and will explain them toyou in a moment when we go away. You must give me your arm to go tothe Princess de Wagram's. "

"Why did you come in with the Colonel?" asked the Baron. 

"I met him in the hall, " she replied. "But leave me now; everybody islooking at us. "

Martial returned to the Colonel of Cuirassiers. Then it was that thelittle blue lady had become the object of the curiosity which agitatedin such various ways the Colonel, Soulanges, Martial, and Madame deVaudremont. 

When the friends parted, after the challenge which closed theirconversation, the Baron flew to Madame de Vaudremont, and led her to aplace in the most brilliant quadrille. Favored by the sort ofintoxication which dancing always produces in a woman, and by theturmoil of a ball, where men appear in all the trickery of dress, which adds no less to their attractions than it does to those ofwomen, Martial thought he might yield with impunity to the charm thatattracted his gaze to the fair stranger. Though he succeeded in hidinghis first glances towards the lady in blue from the anxious activityof the Countess' eyes, he was ere long caught in the fact; and thoughhe managed to excuse himself once for his absence of mind, he couldnot justify the unseemly silence with which he presently heard themost insinuating question which a woman can put to a man:

"Do you like me very much this evening?"

And the more dreamy he became, the more the Countess pressed andteased him. 

While Martial was dancing, the Colonel moved from group to group, seeking information about the unknown lady. After exhausting thegood-humor even of the most indifferent, he had resolved to takeadvantage of a moment when the Comtesse de Gondreville seemed to be atliberty, to ask her the name of the mysterious lady, when he perceiveda little space left clear between the pedestal of the candelabrum andthe two sofas, which ended in that corner. The dance had left severalof the chairs vacant, which formed rows of fortifications held bymothers or women of middle age; and the Colonel seized the opportunityto make his way through this palisade hung with shawls and wraps. Hebegan by making himself agreeable to the dowagers, and so from one toanother, and from compliment to compliment, he at last reached theempty space next the stranger. At the risk of catching on to thegryphons and chimaeras of the huge candelabrum, he stood there, braving the glare and dropping of the wax candles, to Martial'sextreme annoyance. 

The Colonel, far too tactful to speak suddenly to the little blue ladyon his right, began by saying to a plain woman who was seated on theleft:

"This is a splendid ball, madame! What luxury! What life! On my word, every woman here is pretty! You are not dancing--because you do notcare for it, no doubt. "

This vapid conversation was solely intended to induce his right-handneighbor to speak; but she, silent and absent-minded, paid not theleast attention. The officer had in store a number of phrases which heintended should lead up to: "And you, madame?"--a question from whichhe hoped great things. But he was strangely surprised to see tears inthe strange lady's eyes, which seemed wholly absorbed in gazing onMadame de Vaudremont. 

"You are married, no doubt, madame?" he asked her at length, inhesitating tones. 

"Yes, monsieur, " replied the lady. 

"And your husband is here, of course?"

"Yes, monsieur. "

"And why, madame, do you remain in this spot? Is it to attractattention?"

The mournful lady smiled sadly. 

"Allow me the honor, madame, of being your partner in the nextquadrille, and I will take care not to bring you back here. I see avacant settee near the fire; come and take it. When so many people areready to ascend the throne, and Royalty is the mania of the day, Icannot imagine that you will refuse the title of Queen of the Ballwhich your beauty may claim. "

"I do not intend to dance, monsieur. "

The curt tone of the lady's replies was so discouraging that theColonel found himself compelled to raise the siege. Martial, whoguessed what the officer's last request had been, and the refusal hehad met with, began to smile, and stroked his chin, making the diamondsparkle which he wore on his finger. 

"What are you laughing at?" said the Comtesse de Vaudremont. 

"At the failure of the poor Colonel, who has just put his foot init----"

"I begged you to take your ring off, " said the Countess, interruptinghim. 

"I did not hear you. "

"If you can hear nothing this evening, at any rate you see everything, Monsieur le Baron, " said Madame de Vaudremont, with an air ofvexation. 

"That young man is displaying a very fine diamond, " the strangerremarked to the Colonel. 

"Splendid, " he replied. "The man is the Baron Martial de laRoche-Hugon, one of my most intimate friends. "

"I have to thank you for telling me his name, " she went on; "he seemsan agreeable man. "

"Yes, but he is rather fickle. "

"He seems to be on the best terms with the Comtesse de Vaudremont?"said the lady, with an inquiring look at the Colonel. 

"On the very best. "

The unknown turned pale. 

"Hallo!" thought the soldier, "she is in love with that lucky devilMartial. "

"I fancied that Madame de Vaudremont had long been devoted to M. DeSoulanges, " said the lady, recovering a little from the suppressedgrief which had clouded the fairness of her face. 

"For a week past the Countess has been faithless, " replied theColonel. "But you must have seen poor Soulanges when he came in; he istill trying to disbelieve in his disaster. "

"Yes, I saw him, " said the lady. Then she added, "Thank you very much, monsieur, " in a tone which signified a dismissal. 

At this moment the quadrille was coming to an end. Montcornet had onlytime to withdraw, saying to himself by way of consolation, "She ismarried. "

"Well, valiant Cuirassier, " exclaimed the Baron, drawing the Colonelaside into a window-bay to breathe the fresh air from the garden, "howare you getting on?"

"She is a married woman, my dear fellow. "

"What does that matter?"

"Oh, deuce take it! I am a decent sort of man, " replied the Colonel. "I have no idea of paying my addresses to a woman I cannot marry. Besides, Martial, she expressly told me that she did not intend todance. "

"Colonel, I will bet a hundred napoleons to your gray horse that shewill dance with me this evening. "

"Done!" said the Colonel, putting his hand in the coxcomb's. "Meanwhile I am going to look for Soulanges; he perhaps knows thelady, as she seems interested in him. "

"You have lost, my good fellow, " cried Martial, laughing. "My eyeshave met hers, and I know what they mean. My dear friend, you owe meno grudge for dancing with her after she has refused you?"

"No, no. Those who laugh last, laugh longest. But I am an honestgambler and a generous enemy, Martial, and I warn you, she is fond ofdiamonds. "

With these words the friends parted; General Montcornet made his wayto the cardroom, where he saw the Comte de Soulanges sitting at a/bouillotte/ table. Though there was no friendship between the twosoldiers, beyond the superficial comradeship arising from the perilsof war and the duties of the service, the Colonel of Cuirassiers waspainfully struck by seeing the Colonel of Artillery, whom he knew tobe a prudent man, playing at a game which might bring him to ruin. Theheaps of gold and notes piled on the fateful cards showed the frenzyof play. A circle of silent men stood round the players at the table. Now and then a few words were spoken--/pass, play, I stop, a thousandLouis, taken/--but, looking at the five motionless men, it seemed asthough they talked only with their eyes. As the Colonel, alarmed bySoulanges' pallor, went up to him, the Count was winning. Field-Marshal the Duc d'Isemberg, Keller, and a famous banker rose fromthe table completely cleaned out of considerable sums. Soulanges lookedgloomier than ever as he swept up a quantity of gold and notes; he didnot even count it; his lips curled with bitter scorn, he seemed todefy fortune rather than be grateful for her favors. 

"Courage, " said the Colonel. "Courage, Soulanges!" Then, believing hewould do him a service by dragging him from play, he added: "Come withme. I have some good news for you, but on one condition. "

"What is that?" asked Soulanges. 

"That you will answer a question I will ask you. "

The Comte de Soulanges rose abruptly, placing his winnings withreckless indifference in his handkerchief, which he had been twistingwith convulsive nervousness, and his expression was so savage thatnone of the players took exception to his walking off with theirmoney. Indeed, every face seemed to dilate with relief when his moroseand crabbed countenance was no longer to be seen under the circle oflight which a shaded lamp casts on a gaming-table. 

"Those fiends of soldiers are always as thick as thieves at a fair!"said a diplomate who had been looking on, as he took Soulanges' place. One single pallid and fatigued face turned to the newcomer, and saidwith a glance that flashed and died out like the sparkle of a diamond:"When we say military men, we do not mean civil, Monsieur leMinistre. "

"My dear fellow, " said Montcornet to Soulanges, leading him into acorner, "the Emperor spoke warmly in your praise this morning, andyour promotion to be field-marshal is a certainty. "

"The Master does not love the Artillery. "

"No, but he adores the nobility, and you are an aristocrat. The Mastersaid, " added Montcornet, "that the men who had married in Paris duringthe campaign were not therefore to be considered in disgrace. Wellthen?"

The Comte de Soulanges looked as if he understood nothing of thisspeech. 

"And now I hope, " the Colonel went on, "that you will tell me if youknow a charming little woman who is sitting under a hugecandelabrum----"

At these words the Count's face lighted up; he violently seized theColonel's hand: "My dear General, " said he, in a perceptibly alteredvoice, "if any man but you had asked me such a question, I would havecracked his skull with this mass of gold. Leave me, I entreat you. Ifeel more like blowing out my brains this evening, I assure you, than----I hate everything I see. And, in fact, I am going. This gaiety, this music, these stupid faces, all laughing, are killing me!"

"My poor friend!" replied Montcornet gently, and giving the Count'shand a friendly pressure, "you are too vehement. What would you say ifI told you that Martial is thinking so little of Madame de Vaudremontthat he is quite smitten with that little lady?"

"If he says a word to her, " cried Soulanges, stammering with rage, "Iwill thrash him as flat as his own portfolio, even if the coxcomb werein the Emperor's lap!"

And he sank quite overcome on an easy-chair to which Montcornet hadled him. The colonel slowly went away, for he perceived that Soulangeswas in a state of fury far too violent for the pleasantries or theattentions of superficial friendship to soothe him. 

When Montcornet returned to the ballroom, Madame de Vaudremont was thefirst person on whom his eyes fell, and he observed on her face, usually so calm, some symptoms of ill-disguised agitation. A chair wasvacant near hers, and the Colonel seated himself. 

"I dare wager something has vexed you?" said he. 

"A mere trifle, General. I want to be gone, for I have promised to goto a ball at the Grand Duchess of Berg's, and I must look in first atthe Princesse de Wagram's. Monsieur de la Roche-Hugon, who knows this, is amusing himself by flirting with the dowagers. "

"That is not the whole secret of your disturbance, and I will bet ahundred louis that you will remain here the whole evening. "

"Impertinent man!"

"Then I have hit the truth?"

"Well, tell me, what am I thinking of?" said the Countess, tapping theColonel's fingers with her fan. "I might even reward you if you guessrightly. "

"I will not accept the challenge; I have too much the advantage ofyou. "

"You are presumptuous. "

"You are afraid of seeing Martial at the feet----"

"Of whom?" cried the Countess, affecting surprise. 

"Of that candelabrum, " replied the Colonel, glancing at the fairstranger, and then looking at the Countess with embarrassing scrutiny. 

"You have guessed it, " replied the coquette, hiding her face behindher fan, which she began to play with. "Old Madame de Lansac, who is, you know, as malicious as an old monkey, " she went on, after a pause, "has just told me that Monsieur de la Roche-Hugon is running intodanger by flirting with that stranger, who sits here this evening likea skeleton at a feast. I would rather see a death's head than thatface, so cruelly beautiful, and as pale as a ghost. She is my evilgenius. --Madame de Lansac, " she added, after a flash and gesture ofannoyance, "who only goes to a ball to watch everything whilepretending to sleep, has made me miserably anxious. Martial shall paydearly for playing me such a trick. Urge him, meanwhile, since he isyour friend, not to make me so unhappy. "

"I have just been with a man who promises to blow his brains out, andnothing less, if he speaks to that little lady. And he is a man, madame, to keep his word. But then I know Martial; such threats are tohim an encouragement. And, besides, we have wagered----" Here theColonel lowered his voice. 

"Can it be true?" said the Countess. 

"On my word of honor. "

"Thank you, my dear Colonel, " replied Madame de Vaudremont, with aglance full of invitation. 

"Will you do me the honor of dancing with me?"

"Yes; but the next quadrille. During this one I want to find out whatwill come of this little intrigue, and to ascertain who the littleblue lady may be; she looks intelligent. "

The Colonel, understanding that Madame de Vaudremont wished to bealone, retired, well content to have begun his attack so well. 

At most entertainments women are to be met who are there, like Madamede Lansac, as old sailors gather on the seashore to watch youngermariners struggling with the tempest. At this moment Madame de Lansac, who seemed to be interested in the personages of this drama, couldeasily guess the agitation which the Countess was going through. Thelady might fan herself gracefully, smile on the young men who bowed toher, and bring into play all the arts by which a woman hides heremotion, --the Dowager, one of the most clear-sighted andmischief-loving duchesses bequeathed by the eighteenth century to thenineteenth, could read her heart and mind through it all. 

The old lady seemed to detect the slightest movement that revealed theimpressions of the soul. The imperceptible frown that furrowed thatcalm, pure forehead, the faintest quiver of the cheeks, the curve ofthe eyebrows, the least curl of the lips, whose living coral couldconceal nothing from her, --all these were to the Duchess like theprint of a book. From the depths of her large arm-chair, completelyfilled by the flow of her dress, the coquette of the past, whiletalking to a diplomate who had sought her out to hear the anecdotesshe told so cleverly, was admiring herself in the younger coquette;she felt kindly to her, seeing how bravely she disguised her annoyanceand grief of heart. Madame de Vaudremont, in fact, felt as much sorrowas she feigned cheerfulness; she had believed that she had found inMartial a man of talent on whose support she could count for adorningher life with all the enchantment of power; and at this moment sheperceived her mistake, as injurious to her reputation as to her goodopinion of herself. In her, as in other women of that time, thesuddenness of their passions increased their vehemence. Souls whichlove much and love often, suffer no less than those which burnthemselves out in one affection. Her liking for Martial was but ofyesterday, it is true, but the least experienced surgeon knows thatthe pain caused by the amputation of a healthy limb is more acute thanthe removal of a diseased one. There was a future before Madame deVaudremont's passion for Martial, while her previous love had beenhopeless, and poisoned by Soulanges' remorse. 

The old Duchess, who was watching for an opportunity of speaking tothe Countess, hastened to dismiss her Ambassador; for in comparisonwith a lover's quarrel every interest pales, even with an old woman. To engage battle, Madame de Lansac shot at the younger lady a sardonicglance which made the Countess fear lest her fate was in the dowager'shands. There are looks between woman and woman which are like thetorches brought on at the climax of a tragedy. No one who had notknown that Duchess could appreciate the terror which the expression ofher countenance inspired in the Countess. 

Madame de Lansac was tall, and her features led people to say, "Thatmust have been a handsome woman!" She coated her cheeks so thicklywith rouge that the wrinkles were scarcely visible; but her eyes, farfrom gaining a factitious brilliancy from this strong carmine, lookedall the more dim. She wore a vast quantity of diamonds, and dressedwith sufficient taste not to make herself ridiculous. Her sharp nosepromised epigram. A well-fitted set of teeth preserved a smile of suchirony as recalled that of Voltaire. At the same time, the exquisitepoliteness of her manners so effectually softened the mischievoustwist in her mind, that it was impossible to accuse her ofspitefulness. 

The old woman's eyes lighted up, and a triumphant glance, seconded bya smile, which said, "I promised you as much!" shot across the room, and brought a blush of hope to the pale cheeks of the young creaturelanguishing under the great chandelier. The alliance between Madame deLansac and the stranger could not escape the practised eye of theComtesse de Vaudremont, who scented a mystery, and was determined topenetrate it. 

At this instant the Baron de la Roche-Hugon, after questioning all thedowagers without success as to the blue lady's name, applied indespair to the Comtesse de Gondreville, from whom he reached only thisunsatisfactory reply, "A lady whom the 'ancient' Duchesse de Lansacintroduced to me. "

Turning by chance towards the armchair occupied by the old lady, thelawyer intercepted the glance of intelligence she sent to thestranger; and although he had for some time been on bad terms withher, he determined to speak to her. The "ancient" Duchess, seeing thejaunty Baron prowling round her chair, smiled with sardonic irony, andlooked at Madame de Vaudremont with an expression that made Montcornetlaugh. 

"If the old witch affects to be friendly, " thought the Baron, "she iscertainly going to play me some spiteful trick. --Madame, " he said, "you have, I am told, undertaken the charge of a very precioustreasure. "

"Do you take me for a dragon?" said the old lady. "But of whom are youspeaking?" she added, with a sweetness which revived Martial's hopes. 

"Of that little lady, unknown to all, whom the jealousy of all thesecoquettes has imprisoned in that corner. You, no doubt, know herfamily?"

"Yes, " said the Duchess. "But what concern have you with a provincialheiress, married some time since, a woman of good birth, whom you noneof you know, you men; she goes nowhere. "

"Why does not she dance, she is such a pretty creature?--May weconclude a treaty of peace? If you will vouchsafe to tell me all Iwant to know, I promise you that a petition for the restitution of thewoods of Navarreins by the Commissioners of Crown Lands shall bestrongly urged on the Emperor. "

The younger branch of the house of Navarreins bears quarterly with thearms of Navarreins those of Lansac, namely, azure, and argent partyper pale raguly, between six spear-heads in pale, and the old lady'sliaison with Louis XV. Had earned her husband the title of duke byroyal patent. Now, as the Navarreins had not yet resettled in France, it was sheer trickery that the young lawyer thus proposed to the oldlady by suggesting to her that she should petition for an estatebelonging to the elder branch of the family. 

"Monsieur, " said the old woman with deceptive gravity, "bring theComtesse de Vaudremont across to me. I promise you that I will revealto her the mystery of the interesting unknown. You see, every man inthe room has reached as great a curiosity as your own. All eyes areinvoluntarily turned towards the corner where my protegee has somodestly placed herself; she is reaping all the homage the womenwished to deprive her of. Happy the man she chooses for her partner!"She interrupted herself, fixing her eyes on Madame de Vaudremont withone of those looks which plainly say, "We are talking of you. "--Thenshe added, "I imagine you would rather learn the stranger's name fromthe lips of your handsome Countess than from mine. "

There was such marked defiance in the Duchess' attitude that Madame deVaudremont rose, came up to her, and took the chair Martial placed forher; then without noticing him she said, "I can guess, madame, thatyou are talking of me; but I admit my want of perspicacity; I do notknow whether it is for good or evil. "

Madame de Lansac pressed the young woman's pretty hand in her own dryand wrinkled fingers, and answered in a low, compassionate tone, "Poorchild!"

The women looked at each other. Madame de Vaudremont understood thatMartial was in the way, and dismissed him, saying with an imperiousexpression, "Leave us. "

The Baron, ill-pleased at seeing the Countess under the spell of thedangerous sibyl who had drawn her to her side gave one of those lookswhich a man can give--potent over a blinded heart, but simplyridiculous in the eyes of a woman who is beginning to criticise theman who has attracted her. 

"Do you think you can play the Emperor?" said Madame de Vaudremont, turning three-quarters of her face to fix an ironical sidelong gaze onthe lawyer. 

Martial was too much a man of the world, and had too much wit andacumen, to risk breaking with a woman who was in favor at Court, andwhom the Emperor wished to see married. He counted, too, on thejealousy he intended to provoke in her as the surest means ofdiscovering the secret of her coolness, and withdrew all the morewillingly, because at this moment a new quadrille was puttingeverybody in motion. 

With an air of making room for the dancing, the Baron leaned backagainst the marble slab of a console, folded his arms, and stoodabsorbed in watching the two ladies talking. From time to time hefollowed the glances which both frequently directed to the stranger. Then, comparing the Countess with the new beauty, made so attractiveby a touch of mystery, the Baron fell a prey to the detestableself-interest common to adventurous lady-killers; he hesitatedbetween a fortune within his grasp and the indulgence of his caprice. The blaze of light gave such strong relief to his anxious and sullenface, against the hangings of white silk moreen brushed by his blackhair, that he might have been compared to an evil genius. Even from adistance more than one observer no doubt said to himself, "There isanother poor wretch who seems to be enjoying himself!"

The Colonel, meanwhile, with one shoulder leaning lightly against theside-post of the doorway between the ballroom and the cardroom, couldlaugh undetected under his ample moustache; it amused him to look onat the turmoil of the dance; he could see a hundred pretty headsturning about in obedience to the figures; he could read in somefaces, as in those of the Countess and his friend Martial, the secretsof their agitation; and then, looking round, he wondered whatconnection there could be between the gloomy looks of the Comte deSoulanges, still seated on the sofa, and the plaintive expression ofthe fair unknown, on whose features the joys of hope and the anguishof involuntary dread were alternately legible. Montcornet stood likethe king of the feast. In this moving picture he saw a completepresentment of the world, and he laughed at it as he found himself theobject of inviting smiles from a hundred beautiful and elegant women. A Colonel of the Imperial Guard, a position equal to that of aBrigadier-General, was undoubtedly one of the best matches in thearmy. 

It was now nearly midnight. The conversation, the gambling, thedancing, the flirtations, interests, petty rivalries, and scheming hadall reached the pitch of ardor which makes a young man exclaiminvoluntarily, "A fine ball!"

"My sweet little angel, " said Madame de Lansac to the Countess, "youare now at an age when in my day I made many mistakes. Seeing you arejust now enduring a thousand deaths, it occurred to me that I mightgive you some charitable advice. To go wrong at two-and-twenty meansspoiling your future; is it not tearing the gown you must wear? Mydear, it is not much later that we learn to go about in it withoutcrumpling it. Go on, sweetheart, making clever enemies, and friendswho have no sense of conduct, and you will see what a pleasant lifeyou will some day be leading!"

"Oh, madame, it is very hard for a woman to be happy, do not youthink?" the Countess eagerly exclaimed. 

"My child, at your age you must learn to choose between pleasure andhappiness. You want to marry Martial, who is not fool enough to make agood husband, nor passionate enough to remain a lover. He is in debt, my dear; he is the man to run through your fortune; still, that wouldbe nothing if he could make you happy. --Do not you see how aged he is?The man must have been ill; he is making the most of what is left him. In three years he will be a wreck. Then he will be ambitious; perhapshe may succeed. I do not think so. --What is he? A man of intrigue, whomay have the business faculty to perfection, and be able to gossipagreeably; but he is too presumptuous to have any sterling merit; hewill not go far. Besides--only look at him. Is it not written on hisbrow that, at this very moment, what he sees in you is not a young andpretty woman, but the two million francs you possess? He does not loveyou, my dear; he is reckoning you up as if you were an investment. Ifyou are bent on marrying, find an older man who has an assuredposition and is half-way on his career. A widow's marriage ought notto be a trivial love affair. Is a mouse to be caught a second time inthe same trap? A new alliance ought now to be a good speculation onyour part, and in marrying again you ought at least to have a hope ofbeing some day addressed as Madame la Marechale!"

As she spoke, both women naturally fixed their eyes on ColonelMontcornet's handsome face. 

"If you would rather play the delicate part of a flirt and not marryagain, " the Duchess went on, with blunt good-nature; "well! my poorchild, you, better than any woman, will know how to raise thestorm-clouds and disperse them again. But, I beseech you, never makeit your pleasure to disturb the peace of families, to destroy unions, and ruin the happiness of happy wives. I, my dear, have played thatperilous game. Dear heaven! for a triumph of vanity some poor virtuoussoul is murdered--for there really are virtuous women, child, --and wemay make ourselves mortally hated. I learned, a little too late, that, as the Duc d'Albe once said, one salmon is worth a thousand frogs! Agenuine affection certainly brings a thousand times more happinessthan the transient passions we may inspire. --Well, I came here onpurpose to preach to you; yes, you are the cause of my appearance inthis house, which stinks of the lower class. Have I not just seenactors here? Formerly, my dear, we received them in our boudoir; butin the drawing-room--never!--Why do you look at me with so muchamazement? Listen to me. If you want to play with men, do not try towring the hearts of any but those whose life is not yet settled, whohave no duties to fulfil; the others do not forgive us for the errorsthat have made them happy. Profit by this maxim, founded on my longexperience. --That luckless Soulanges, for instance, whose head youhave turned, whom you have intoxicated for these fifteen months past, God knows how! Do you know at what you have struck?--At his wholelife. He has been married these two years; he is worshiped by acharming wife, whom he loves, but neglects; she lives in tears andembittered silence. Soulanges has had hours of remorse more terriblethan his pleasure has been sweet. And you, you artful little thing, have deserted him. --Well, come and see your work. "

The old lady took Madame de Vaudremont's hand, and they rose. 

"There, " said Madame de Lansac, and her eyes showed her the stranger, sitting pale and tremulous under the glare of the candles, "that is mygrandniece, the Comtesse de Soulanges; to-day she yielded at last tomy persuasion, and consented to leave the sorrowful room, where thesight of her child gives her but little consolation. You see her? Youthink her charming? Then imagine, dear Beauty, what she must have beenwhen happiness and love shed their glory on that face now blighted. "

The Countess looked away in silence, and seemed lost in sadreflections. 

The Duchess led her to the door into the card-room; then, afterlooking round the room as if in search of some one--"And there isSoulanges!" she said in deep tones. 

The Countess shuddered as she saw, in the least brilliantly lightedcorner, the pale, set face of Soulanges stretched in an easy-chair. The indifference of his attitude and the rigidity of his brow betrayedhis suffering. The players passed him to and fro, without paying anymore attention to him than if he had been dead. The picture of thewife in tears, and the dejected, morose husband, separated in themidst of this festivity like the two halves of a tree blasted bylightning, had perhaps a prophetic significance for the Countess. Shedreaded lest she here saw an image of the revenges the future mighthave in store for her. Her heart was not yet so dried up that thefeeling and generosity were entirely excluded, and she pressed theDuchess' hand, while thanking her by one of those smiles which have acertain childlike grace. 

"My dear child, " the old lady said in her ear, "remember henceforththat we are just as capable of repelling a man's attentions as ofattracting them. "

"She is yours if you are not a simpleton. " These words were whisperedinto Colonel Montcornet's ear by Madame de Lansac, while the handsomeCountess was still absorbed in compassion at the sight of Soulanges, for she still loved him truly enough to wish to restore him tohappiness, and was promising herself in her own mind that she wouldexert the irresistible power her charms still had over him to make himreturn to his wife. 

"Oh! I will talk to him!" said she to Madame de Lansac. 

"Do nothing of the kind, my dear!" cried the old lady, as she wentback to her armchair. "Choose a good husband, and shut your door to mynephew. Believe me, my child, a wife cannot accept her husband's heartas the gift of another woman; she is a hundred times happier in thebelief that she has reconquered it. By bringing my niece here Ibelieve I have given her an excellent chance of regaining herhusband's affection. All the assistance I need of you is to play theColonel. " She pointed to the Baron's friend, and the Countess smiled. 

"Well, madame, do you at last know the name of the unknown?" askedMartial, with an air of pique, to the Countess when he saw her alone. 

"Yes, " said Madame de Vaudremont, looking him in the face. 

Her features expressed as much roguery as fun. The smile which gavelife to her lips and cheeks, the liquid brightness of her eyes, werelike the will-o'-the-wisp which leads travelers astray. Martial, whobelieved that she still loved him, assumed the coquetting graces inwhich a man is so ready to lull himself in the presence of the womanhe loves. He said with a fatuous air:

"And will you be annoyed with me if I seem to attach great importanceto your telling me that name?"

"Will you be annoyed with me, " answered Madame de Vaudremont, "if aremnant of affection prevents my telling you; and if I forbid you tomake the smallest advances to that young lady? It would be at the riskof your life perhaps. "

"To lose your good graces, madame, would be worse than to lose mylife. "

"Martial, " said the Countess severely, "she is Madame de Soulanges. Her husband would blow your brains out--if, indeed, you have any----"

"Ha! ha!" laughed the coxcomb. "What! the Colonel can leave the man inpeace who has robbed him of your love, and then would fight for hiswife! What a subversion of principles!--I beg of you to allow me todance with the little lady. You will then be able to judge how littlelove that heart of ice could feel for you; for, if the Coloneldisapproves of my dancing with his wife after allowing me to----"

"But she loves her husband. "

"A still further obstacle that I shall have the pleasure ofconquering. "

"But she is married. "

"A whimsical objection!"

"Ah!" said the Countess, with a bitter smile, "you punish us alike forour faults and our repentance!"

"Do not be angry!" exclaimed Martial eagerly. "Oh, forgive me, Ibeseech you. There, I will think no more of Madame de Soulanges. "

"You deserve that I should send you to her. "

"I am off then, " said the Baron, laughing, "and I shall return moredevoted to you than ever. You will see that the prettiest woman in theworld cannot capture the heart that is yours. "

"That is to say, that you want to win Colonel Montcornet's horse?"

"Ah! Traitor!" said he, threatening his friend with his finger. TheColonel smiled and joined them; the Baron gave him the seat near theCountess, saying to her with a sardonic accent:

"Here, madame, is a man who boasted that he could win your good gracesin one evening. "

He went away, thinking himself clever to have piqued the Countess'pride and done Montcornet an ill turn; but, in spite of his habitualkeenness, he had not appreciated the irony underlying Madame deVaudremont's speech, and did not perceive that she had come as far tomeet his friend as his friend towards her, though both wereunconscious of it. 

At that moment when the lawyer went fluttering up to the candelabrumby which Madame de Soulanges sat, pale, timid, and apparently aliveonly in her eyes, her husband came to the door of the ballroom, hiseyes flashing with anger. The old Duchess, watchful of everything, flew to her nephew, begged him to give her his arm and find hercarriage, affecting to be mortally bored, and hoping thus to prevent avexatious outbreak. Before going she fired a singular glance ofintelligence at her niece, indicating the enterprising knight who wasabout to address her, and this signal seemed to say, "There he is, avenge yourself!"

Madame de Vaudremont caught these looks of the aunt and niece; asudden light dawned on her mind; she was frightened lest she was thedupe of this old woman, so cunning and so practised in intrigue. 

"That perfidious Duchess, " said she to herself, "has perhaps beenamusing herself by preaching morality to me while playing me somespiteful trick of her own. "

At this thought Madame de Vaudremont's pride was perhaps more rousedthan her curiosity to disentangle the thread of this intrigue. In theabsorption of mind to which she was a prey she was no longer mistressof herself. The Colonel, interpreting to his own advantage theembarrassment evident in the Countess' manner and speech, became moreardent and pressing. The old blase diplomates, amusing themselves bywatching the play of faces, had never found so many intrigues at onceto watch or guess at. The passions agitating the two couples were tobe seen with variations at every step in the crowded rooms, andreflected with different shades in other countenances. The spectacleof so many vivid passions, of all these lovers' quarrels, thesepleasing revenges, these cruel favors, these flaming glances, of allthis ardent life diffused around them, only made them feel theirimpotence more keenly. 

At last the Baron had found a seat by Madame de Soulanges. His eyesstole a long look at her neck, as fresh as dew and as fragrant asfield flowers. He admired close at hand the beauty which had amazedhim from afar. He could see a small, well-shod foot, and measure withhis eye a slender and graceful shape. At that time women wore theirsash tied close under the bosom, in imitation of Greek statues, apitiless fashion for those whose bust was faulty. As he cast furtiveglances at the Countess' figure, Martial was enchanted with itsperfection. 

"You have not danced once this evening, madame, " said he in soft andflattering tones. "Not, I should suppose, for lack of a partner?"

"I never go to parties; I am quite unknown, " replied Madame deSoulanges coldly, not having understood the look by which her aunt hadjust conveyed to her that she was to attract the Baron. 

Martial, to give himself countenance, twisted the diamond he wore onhis left hand; the rainbow fires of the gem seemed to flash a suddenlight on the young Countess' mind; she blushed and looked at the Baronwith an undefinable expression. 

"Do you like dancing?" asked the Provencal, to reopen theconversation. 

"Yes, very much, monsieur. "

At this strange reply their eyes met. The young man, surprised by theearnest accent, which aroused a vague hope in his heart, had suddenlyquestioned the lady's eyes. 

"Then, madame, am I not overbold in offering myself to be your partnerfor the next quadrille?"

Artless confusion colored the Countess' white cheeks. 

"But, monsieur, I have already refused one partner--a militaryman----"

"Was it that tall cavalry colonel whom you see over there?"

"Precisely so. "

"Oh! he is a friend of mine; feel no alarm. Will you grant me thefavor I dare hope for?"

"Yes, monsieur. "

Her tone betrayed an emotion so new and so deep that the lawyer'sworld-worn soul was touched. He was overcome by shyness like aschoolboy's, lost his confidence, and his southern brain caught fire;he tried to talk, but his phrases struck him as graceless incomparison with Madame de Soulanges' bright and subtle replies. It waslucky for him that the quadrille was forming. Standing by hisbeautiful partner, he felt more at ease. To many men dancing is aphase of being; they think that they can more powerfully influence theheart of woman by displaying the graces of their bodies than by theirintellect. Martial wished, no doubt, at this moment to put forth allhis most effective seductions, to judge by the pretentiousness of hismovements and gestures. 

He led his conquest to the quadrille in which the most brilliant womenin the room made it a point of chimerical importance to dance inpreference to any other. While the orchestra played the introductorybars to the first figure, the Baron felt it an incrediblegratification to his pride to perceive, as he reviewed the ladiesforming the lines of that formidable square, that Madame de Soulanges'dress might challenge that even of Madame de Vaudremont, who, by achance not perhaps unsought, was standing with Montcornet /vis-a-vis/to himself and the lady in blue. All eyes were for a moment turned onMadame de Soulanges; a flattering murmur showed that she was thesubject of every man's conversation with his partner. Looks ofadmiration and envy centered on her, with so much eagerness that theyoung creature, abashed by a triumph she seemed to disclaim, modestlylooked down, blushed, and was all the more charming. When she raisedher white eyelids it was to look at her ravished partner as though shewished to transfer the glory of this admiration to him, and to saythat she cared more for his than for all the rest. She threw herinnocence into her vanity; or rather she seemed to give herself up tothe guileless admiration which is the beginning of love, with the goodfaith found only in youthful hearts. As she danced, the lookers-onmight easily believe that she displayed her grace for Martial alone;and though she was modest, and new to the trickery of the ballroom, she knew as well as the most accomplished coquette how to raise hereyes to his at the right moment and drop their lids with assumedmodesty. 

When the movement of a new figure, invented by a dancer named Trenis, and named after him, brought Martial face to face with the Colonel--"Ihave won your horse, " said he, laughing. 

"Yes, but you have lost eighty thousand francs a year!" retortedMontcornet, glancing at Madame de Vaudremont. 

"What do I care?" replied Martial. "Madame de Soulanges is worthmillions!"

At the end of the quadrille more than one whisper was poured into morethan one ear. The less pretty women made moral speeches to theirpartners, commenting on the budding liaison between Martial and theComtesse de Soulanges. The handsomest wondered at her easy surrender. The men could not understand such luck as the Baron's, not regardinghim as particularly fascinating. A few indulgent women said it was notfair to judge the Countess too hastily; young wives would be in a veryhapless plight if an expressive look or a few graceful dancing stepswere enough to compromise a woman. 

Martial alone knew the extent of his happiness. During the lastfigure, when the ladies had to form the /moulinet/, his fingers claspedthose of the Countess, and he fancied that, through the thin perfumedkid of her gloves, the young wife's grasp responded to his amorousappeal. 

"Madame, " said he, as the quadrille ended, "do not go back to theodious corner where you have been burying your face and your dressuntil now. Is admiration the only benefit you can obtain from thejewels that adorn your white neck and beautifully dressed hair? Comeand take a turn through the rooms to enjoy the scene and yourself. "

Madame de Soulanges yielded to her seducer, who thought she would behis all the more surely if he could only show her off. Side by sidethey walked two or three times amid the groups who crowded the rooms. The Comtesse de Soulanges, evidently uneasy, paused for an instant ateach door before entering, only doing so after stretching her neck tolook at all the men there. This alarm, which crowned the Baron'ssatisfaction, did not seem to be removed till he said to her, "Makeyourself easy; /he/ is not here. "

They thus made their way to an immense picture gallery in a wing ofthe mansion, where their eyes could feast in anticipation on thesplendid display of a collation prepared for three hundred persons. Assupper was about to begin, Martial led the Countess to an oval boudoirlooking on to the garden, where the rarest flowers and a few shrubsmade a scented bower under bright blue hangings. The murmurs of thefestivity here died away. The Countess, at first startled, refusedfirmly to follow the young man; but, glancing in a mirror, she nodoubt assured herself that they could be seen, for she seated herselfon an ottoman with a fairly good grace. 

"This room is charming, " said she, admiring the sky-blue hangingslooped with pearls. 

"All here is love and delight!" said the Baron, with deep emotion. 

In the mysterious light which prevailed he looked at the Countess, anddetected on her gently agitated face an expression of uneasiness, modesty, and eagerness which enchanted him. The young lady smiled, andthis smile seemed to put an end to the struggle of feeling surging inher heart; in the most insinuating way she took her adorer's lefthand, and drew from his finger the ring on which she had fixed hereyes. 

"What a fine diamond!" she exclaimed in the artless tone of a younggirl betraying the incitement of a first temptation. 

Martial, troubled by the Countess' involuntary but intoxicating touch, like a caress, as she drew off the ring, looked at her with eyes asglittering as the gem. 

"Wear it, " he said, "in memory of this hour, and for the love of----"

She was looking at him with such rapture that he did not end thesentence; he kissed her hand. 

"You give it me?" she said, looking much astonished. 

"I wish I had the whole world to offer you!"

"You are not joking?" she went on, in a voice husky with too greatsatisfaction. 

"Will you accept only my diamond?"

"You will never take it back?" she insisted. 

"Never. "

She put the ring on her finger. Martial, confident of cominghappiness, was about to put his hand round her waist, but she suddenlyrose, and said in a clear voice, without any agitation:

"I accept the diamond, monsieur, with the less scruple because itbelongs to me. "

The Baron was speechless. 

"Monsieur de Soulanges took it lately from my dressing-table, and toldme he had lost it. "

"You are mistaken, madame, " said Martial, nettled. "It was given me byMadame de Vaudremont. "

"Precisely so, " she said with a smile. "My husband borrowed this ringof me, he gave it to her, she made it a present to you; my ring hasmade a little journey, that is all. This ring will perhaps tell me allI do not know, and teach me the secret of always pleasing. --Monsieur, "she went on, "if it had not been my own, you may be sure I should nothave risked paying so dear for it; for a young woman, it is said, isin danger with you. But, you see, " and she touched a spring within thering, "here is M. De Soulanges' hair. "

She fled into the crowded rooms so swiftly, that it seemed useless totry to follow her; besides, Martial, utterly confounded, was in nomood to carry the adventure further. The Countess' laugh found an echoin the boudoir, where the young coxcomb now perceived, between twoshrubs, the Colonel and Madame de Vaudremont, both laughing heartily. 

"Will you have my horse, to ride after your prize?" said the Colonel. 

The Baron took the banter poured upon him by Madame de Vaudremont andMontcornet with a good grace, which secured their silence as to theevents of the evening, when his friend exchanged his charger for arich and pretty young wife. 

As the Comtesse de Soulanges drove across Paris from the Chauseed'Antin to the Faubourg Saint-Germain, where she lived, her soul wasprey to many alarms. Before leaving the Hotel Gondreville she wentthrough all the rooms, but found neither her aunt nor her husband, whohad gone away without her. Frightful suspicions then tortured heringenuous mind. A silent witness of her husbands' torments since theday when Madame de Vaudremont had chained him to her car, she hadconfidently hoped that repentance would ere long restore her husbandto her. It was with unspeakable repugnance that she had consented tothe scheme plotted by her aunt, Madame de Lansac, and at this momentshe feared she had made a mistake. 

The evening's experience had saddened her innocent soul. Alarmed atfirst by the Count's look of suffering and dejection, she had becomemore so on seeing her rival's beauty, and the corruption of societyhad gripped her heart. As she crossed the Pont Royal she threw awaythe desecrated hair at the back of the diamond, given to her once as atoken of the purest affection. She wept as she remembered the bittergrief to which she had so long been a victim, and shuddered more thanonce as she reflected that the duty of a woman, who wishes for peacein her home, compels her to bury sufferings so keen as hers at thebottom of her heart, and without a complaint. 

"Alas!" thought she, "what can women do when they do not love? What isthe fount of their indulgence? I cannot believe that, as my aunt tellsme, reason is all-sufficient to maintain them in such devotion. "

She was still sighing when her man-servant let down the handsomecarriage-step down which she flew into the hall of her house. Sherushed precipitately upstairs, and when she reached her room wasstartled by seeing her husband sitting by the fire. 

"How long is it, my dear, since you have gone to balls without tellingme beforehand?" he asked in a broken voice. "You must know that awoman is always out of place without her husband. You compromisedyourself strangely by remaining in the dark corner where you hadensconced yourself. "

"Oh, my dear, good Leon, " said she in a coaxing tone, "I could notresist the happiness of seeing you without your seeing me. My aunttook me to this ball, and I was very happy there!"

This speech disarmed the Count's looks of their assumed severity, forhe had been blaming himself while dreading his wife's return, no doubtfully informed at the ball of an infidelity he had hoped to hide fromher; and, as is the way of lovers conscious of their guilt, he tried, by being the first to find fault, to escape her just anger. Happy inseeing her husband smile, and in finding him at this hour in a roomwhither of late he had come more rarely, the Countess looked at him sotenderly that she blushed and cast down her eyes. Her clemencyenraptured Soulanges all the more, because this scene followed on themisery he had endured at the ball. He seized his wife's hand andkissed it gratefully. Is not gratitude often a part of love?

"Hortense, what is that on your finger that has hurt my lip so much?"asked he, laughing. 

"It is my diamond which you said you had lost, and which I have found. "

General Montcornet did not marry Madame de Vaudremont, in spite of themutual understanding in which they had lived for a few minutes, forshe was one of the victims of the terrible fire which sealed the fameof the ball given by the Austrian ambassador on the occasion ofNapoleon's marriage with the daughter of the Emperor Joseph II. 

JULY, 1829. 

ADDENDUM

The following personages appear in other stories of the Human Comedy. 

Bonaparte, Napoleon The Vendetta The Gondreville Mystery Colonel Chabert The Seamy Side of History A Woman of Thirty

Gondreville, Malin, Comte de The Gondreville Mystery A Start in Life The Member for Arcis

Keller, Francois Cesar Birotteau Eugenie Grandet The Government Clerks The Member for Arcis

Keller, Madame Francois The Member for Arcis The Thirteen

La Roche-Hugon, Martial de The Peasantry A Daughter of Eve The Member for Arcis The Middle Classes Cousin Betty

Montcornet, Marechal, Comte de Lost Illusions A Distinguished Provincial at Paris Scenes from a Courtesan's Life The Peasantry A Man of Business Cousin Betty

Murat, Joachim, Prince The Vendetta The Gondreville Mystery Colonel Chabert The Country Doctor

Soulanges, Comte Leon de The Peasantry

Soulanges, Comtesse Hortense de The Thirteen The Peasantry