THE IDOL OF PARIS

by SARAH BERNHARDT

1921(English Edition)

CONTENTS

PART ONE: PARIS

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

PART TWO: BRUSSELS

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

PART THREE: THE COUNTRY

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

CHAPTER NINETEEN

CHAPTER TWENTY

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

PART FOUR: THE CHÂTEAU

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

CHAPTER THIRTY

PART I. PARIS

CHAPTER I

In the dining-room of a fine house on the Boulevard Raspail all theDarbois family were gathered together about the round table, on whicha white oil cloth bordered with gold-medallioned portraits of the lineof French kings served as table cover at family meals. 

The Darbois family consisted of François Darbois, professor ofphilosophy, a scholar of eminence and distinction; of Madame Darbois, his wife, a charming gentle little creature, without any pretentions;of Philippe Renaud, brother of Madame Darbois, an honest and ablebusiness man; of his son, Maurice Renaud, twenty-two and a painter, afine youth filled with confidence because of the success he had justachieved at the last Salon; of a distant cousin, the familycounsellor, a tyrannical landlord and self-centered bachelor, AdhemarMeydieux, and the child of whom he was godfather, and around whom allthis particular little world revolved. 

Esperance Darbois, the only daughter of the philosopher, was fifteenyears old. She was long and slim without being angular. The flowerhead that crowned this slender stem was exquisitely fair, with thefairness of a little child, soft pale-gold, fair. Her face had, indeed, no strictly sculptural beauty; her long flax-coloured eyeswere not large, her nose had no special character; only her sensitiveand clear-cut nostrils gave the pretty face its suggestion of ancientlineage. Her mouth was a little large, and her full red lips opened onsingularly white teeth as even as almonds; while a low Grecianforehead and a neck graceful in every curve gave Esperance a totaleffect of aristocratic distinction that was beyond dispute. Her lowvibrant voice produced an impression that was almost physical on thosewho heard it. Quite without intention, she introduced into every wordshe spoke several inflections which made her manner of pronounciationpeculiarly her own. 

Esperance was kneeling on a chair, leaning upon her arms on the table. Her blue dress, cut like a blouse, was held in at the waist by anarrow girdle knotted loosely. Although the child was arguingvigorously, with intense animation, there was such grace in hergestures, such charming vibrations in her voice, that it wasimpossible to resent her combative attitude. 

"Papa, my dear papa, " she was asserting to François Darbois, "You aresaying to-day just the opposite of what you were saying the other dayto mother at dinner. "

Her father raised his head. Her mother, on the contrary, dropped hersa little. "Pray Heaven, " she was saying to herself, "that Françoisdoes not get angry with her!"

The godfather moved his chair forward; Philippe Renaud laughed;Maurice looked at his cousin with amazement. 

"What are you saying?" asked François Darbois. 

Esperance gazed at him tenderly. "You remember my godfather was diningwith us and there had been a lot of talk; my godfather was againstallowing any liberty to women, and he maintained that children have noright to choose their own careers, but must, without reasoning, giveway to their parents, who alone are to decide their fates. "

Adhemar wished to take the floor and cleared his throat inpreparation, but François Darbois, evidently a little nonplused, muttered, "And then after that--what are you coming to?"

"To what you answered, papa. "

Her father looked at her a little anxiously, but she met his glancecalmly and continued: "You said to my godfather, 'My dear Meydieux, you are absolutely mistaken. It is the right and the duty of everyoneto select and to construct his future for himself. '"

Darbois attempted to speak. .. . 

"You even told mama, who had never known it, that grandfather wantedto place you in business, and that you rebelled. "

"Ah! rebelled, " murmured Darbois, with a slight shrug. 

"Yes, rebelled. And you added, 'My father cut off my allowance for ayear, but I stuck to it; I tutored poor students who couldn't getthrough their examinations, I lived from hand to mouth, but I didlive, and I was able to continue my studies in philosophy. '"

Uncle Renaud was openly nodding encouragement. Adhemar Meydieux roseheavily, and straightening up with a succession of jerky movements, caught himself squarely on his heels, and then, with great conviction, said: "See here, child, if I were your father, I should take you bythe ear and put you out of the room. "

Esperance turned purple. 

"I repeat, children should obey without question!"

"I hope to prove to my daughter by reasoning that she is probablywrong, " said M. Darbois very quietly. 

"Not at all. You must order, not persuade. "

"Now, M. Meydieux, " exclaimed the young painter, "it seems to me thatyou are going a little too far. Children should respect their parents'wishes as far as possible; but when it is a question of their ownfuture, they have a right to present their side of the case. If myuncle Darbois's father had had his way, my uncle Darbois wouldprobably now be a mediocre engineer, instead of the brilliantphilosopher who is admired and recognized by the entire world. "

Gentle little Madame Darbois sat up proudly, and Esperance looked ather father with a world of tenderness in her eyes. 

"But, my lad, " pursued Adhemar, swelling with conviction, "your unclemight well have made a fortune at machinery, while, as it is, he hasjust managed to exist. "

"We are very happy"--Madame Darbois slipped in her word. 

Esperance had bounded out of her chair, and from behind her fatherencircled his head with her arms. "Oh! yes, very happy, " she murmuredin a low voice, "and you would not, darling papa, spoil the harmony ofour life together?"

"Remember, my dear little Esperance, what I said to your motherconcerned only men--now we are considering the future of a young girl, and that is a graver matter!"

"Why?"

"Because men are better armed against the struggle, and life is, alas, one eternal combat. "

"The armour of the intellect is the same for a young girl as for ayoung man. "

Adhemar shook his shoulders impatiently. Seeing that he was gettingangry and was like to explode, Esperance cried out, "Wait, godfather, you must let me try to convince my parents. Suppose, father, that Ihad chosen the same career as Maurice. What different armour should Ineed?"

François listened to his daughter affectionately, drawing her closerto him. "Understand me, my dearie. I am not denying your wish as aproof of my parental authority. No, remember this is the second timethat you have expressed your will in the matter of the choice of yourcareer. The first time I asked you to consider it for six months: Thesix months having passed, you now place me under the obligation of--"

"Oh! papa, what a horrid word!"

"But that is it, " he went on, playing with her pretty hair, "you haveput me under the obligation of answering you definitely; and I havecalled this family council because I have not the courage, nor, perhaps, the right, to stand in your way--the way you wish to go. "

Adhemar made a violent effort to leap to his feet, declaiming in hisheavy voice, "Yes, François, you must try and prevent her from goingthis way, the most evil, the most perilous above all, for a woman. "

Esperance began to tremble, but she stood resolutely away from herfather, holding herself rigid with her arms hanging straight at hersides. The rose tint of her cheeks had disappeared and her blue eyeswere dimmed with shadows. 

Maurice hastily made a number of sketches of her; never before had hefound his cousin so interesting. 

Adhemar continued, "Pray allow me to proceed with what I have to say, my dear child. I have come from the country for this purpose, inanswer to your father's summons. I wish to offer my experience foryour protection. Your parents know nothing of life. François breathesthe ether of a world peopled only by philosophers--whether dead orliving, it makes little difference; your mother lives only for youtwo. I expressed at once my horror at the career that you have chosen, I expatiated upon all the dangers! You seem to have understoodnothing, and your father, thanks to his philosophy, that leasttrustworthy of guides, continues futilely reasoning, for everreasoning!"

His harangue was cut short. Esperance's clear voice broke in, "I donot wish to hear you speak in this manner of my father, godfather, "she said coldly. "My father lives for my mother and me. He is good andgenerous. It is you who are the egoist, godfather!"

François started as if to check his daughter, but she continued, "Whenmama was so sick, six years ago, papa sent me with Marguerite, ourmaid, to take a letter to you. I did so want to read that letter, itmust have been so splendid. .. . You answered. .. . "

Adhemar tried to get in a word. Esperance in exasperation tapped thefloor with her foot and rushed on, "You answered, 'Little one, youmust tell your papa that I will give him all the advice he wants tohelp him out of this trouble, but it is a principle of mine never tolend money, above all to my good friends, for that always leads to aquarrel. ' Then I left you and went to my Uncle Renaud, who gave me agreat deal more even than we needed for mama. "

Big Renaud looked hot and uncomfortable. His son pressed his hand soaffectionately under the table that the good man's eyes grew wet. 

"Ever since then, godfather, I have not cared for you any more. "

The atmosphere of the little room seemed suddenly to congeal. Thesilence was intense. Adhemar himself remained thunderstruck in hischair, his tongue dry, his thoughts chaotic, unable to form a reply tothe child's virulent attack. For the sake of breaking up this generalparalysis, Maurice Renaud finally suggested that they should vote uponthe decision to be given to his brave little cousin. 

They gathered together around the table and began to talk in lowtones. Esperance had sunk into a chair. Her face was very pale andgreat blue circles had appeared around her eyes. The discussion seemedto be once more in full swing when Maurice startled everyone bycrying, "My God, Esperance is ill!"

The child had fainted, and her head hung limply back. Her golden hairmade an aureola of light around the colourless face with its deadwhite lips. 

Maurice raised the child in his arms, and Madame Darbois led himquickly to Esperance's little room where he laid the light form on itslittle bed. François Darbois moistened her temples quickly with Eau deCologne. Madame Darbois supported Esperance's head, holding a littleether to her nose. As Maurice looked about the little room, as fresh, as white, as the two pots of marguerites on the mantel-shelf, anindefinable sentiment swelled up within him. Was it a kind ofadoration for so much purity? Philippe Renaud had remained in thedining-room where he succeeded in keeping Adhemar, in spite of hisefforts to follow the Darbois. 

Esperance opened her eyes and seeing beside her only her father andmother, those two beings whom she loved so deeply, so tenderly, shereached out her arms and drew close to her their beloved heads. Maurice had slipped out very quietly. "Papa dearie, Mama beloved, forgive me, it is not my fault, " she sobbed. 

"Don't cry, my child, now, not a tear, " cried Darbois, bending overhis little girl. "It is settled, you shall be. .. . " and the word waslost in her little ear. 

She went suddenly pink, and raising herself towards him, whispered herreply, "Oh! I thank you! How I love you both! Thank you! Thank you!"

CHAPTER II

Esperance, left alone with her mother, drank the tea this tenderparent brought to her, and the look of health began to come back toher face. 

"Then to-morrow, mother dearest, we must go and be registered for theexaminations that are soon to be held at the Conservatoire. "

"You want to go to-morrow?"

"Yes, to-day we must stay with papa, mustn't we? He is so kind!"

The two--mother and daughter--were silent a moment, occupied with thesame tender thoughts. 

"And now we will persuade him to go out with us, shan't we, motherdear?"

"That will be the very best thing for both of you, " agreed MadameDarbois, and she went to make her preparations. 

Left alone, Esperance cast aside her blue dress and surveyed herselfin the long mirror. Her eyes were asking the questions that perplexedher whole being. She raised herself lightly on her little feet. "Oh!yes, surely I am going to be tall. I am only fifteen, and I am quitetall for my age. Oh! yes, I shall be tall. " She came very close to themirror and examined herself closely, hypnotizing herself little bylittle. She beheld herself under a million different aspects. Her wholelife seemed passing before her, shadowy figures came and went--one ofthem, the most persistent, seemed to keep stretching towards her longappealing arms. She shivered, recoiled abruptly, and passing her handacross her forehead, dispelled the dizzy visions that were gatheringthere. 

When her mother returned she found her quietly reading Victor Hugo, studying "_Dona Sol_" in _Hernani_. She had not heard the openingof the door, and she started at finding her mother close beside her. 

"You see, I am not going to lose any time, " she said, closing thebook. "Ah! mama, how happy I am, how happy!"

"Quick, " said her mother, her finger to her lips. "Your father iswaiting for us, ready to go out. "

Esperance seized her hat and coat quickly and ran to join her father. He was sitting as if thinking, his head resting in his hands. Sheunderstood the struggle between love and reason in his soul, and herupright little soul suffered with his. Bending gently beside him shemurmured, "Do not be unhappy, papa. You know that I can never sufferas long as I have you two. If I am quite mistaken, if life doesn'tbring me any of the things that I expect, I shall find comfort in yourlove. "

François Darbois raised his head and looked deep into the lovely eyes, "God keep you, my little daughter!"

Next morning Esperance was ready to go to the Conservatoire longbefore the appointed hour. M. Darbois was already in his study withone of his pupils, so she ran to her mother's room and found her busywith some papers. 

"You have my birth certificate?"

"Yes, yes. "

"And papa's written consent?"

"Yes, yes, " sighed Madame Darbois. 

"He hesitated to give it to you?"

"Oh! no, you know your father! His word is sacred, but it cost him agreat deal. My dear little girl, never let him regret it. "

Esperance put her finger across her mother's lips. "Mama, you knowthat I am honest and honourable, how can I help it when I am the childof two darlings as good as you and papa? My longing for the theatre isstronger than I can tell. I believe that if papa had refused hispermission, it would have made me unhappy and that I should havefallen ill and pined away. You remember how, about a year ago, Ialmost died of anaemia and consumption. Really, mother dear, myillness was simply caused by my overstrung nerves. I had often heardpapa express his disapproval of the theatre; and you, you remember, said one day, in reference to the suicide of a well-known actress, 'Ah, her poor mother, God keep me from seeing my daughter on thestage!'"

Madame Darbois was silent for a moment; then two tears rolled quietlyfrom beneath her eyelids and a little sob escaped her. 

"Ah! mama, mama, " cried Esperance, "have pity, don't let me see yousuffer so. I feared it; I did not want to be sure of it. I am anungrateful daughter. You love me so much! You have indulged me so! Iought to give in. I can not, and your grief will kill me. I sufferedso yesterday, out driving, feeling papa so far away. I kept feeling asif he were holding himself aloof in an effort to forget, and now youare crying. .. . Mama, it is terrible! I must make myself give you backyour happiness--at least your peace of mind. Alas!--I can not give youback your happiness, for I think that I shall die if I cannot have myway. "

Madame Darbois trembled. She was familiar with her daughter's nervous, high-strung temperament. In a tone of more authority than Esperancehad ever heard her use, "Come, child, be quick, we are losing time, "she said, "I have all the necessary papers, come. "

They found at the Conservatoire several women, who had arrived beforethem, waiting to have their daughters entered for the course. Fouryouths were standing in a separate group, staring at the young girlsbeside their mothers. In a corner of the room was a little office, where the official, charged with receiving applications, wasensconced. He was a man of fifty, gruff, jaundiced from liver trouble, looking down superciliously at the girls whose names he had justreceived. When Madame Darbois entered with Esperance, thedistinguished manner of the two ladies caused a little stir. The groupof young men drew nearer. Madame Darbois looked about, and seeing anempty bench near a window, went towards it with her daughter. The sun, falling upon Esperance's blonde hair, turned it suddenly into anaureola of gold. A murmur as of admiration broke from the spectators. 

"Now there is someone, " murmured a big fat woman with her handsstuffed into white cotton gloves, "who may be sure of her future!"

The official raised his head, dazzled by the radiant vision. Forgetting the lack of courtesy he had shown those who had precededher, he advanced towards Madame Darbois and, raising his black velvetcap, "Do you wish to register for the entrance examinations?" he saidto Esperance. 

She indicated her mother with an impatient movement of her littlehead. "Yes, " said Madame Darbois, "but I come after these otherpeople. I will wait my turn. "

The man shrugged his shoulders with an air of assurance. "Pleasefollow me, ladies. "

They rose. A sound of discontent was audible. 

"Silence, " cried the official in fury. "If I hear any more noise, Iwill turn you all out. "

Silence descended again. Many of these women had come a long way. Alittle dressmaker had left her workshop to bring her daughter. A bigchambermaid had obtained the morning's leave from the bourgeois housewhere she worked. Her daughter stood beside her, a beautiful child ofsixteen with colourless hair, impudent as a magpie. A music teacherwith well-worn boots had excused herself from her pupils. Her twodaughters flanked her to right and left, Parisian blossoms, pale andanaemic. Both wished to pass the entrance examinations, the one as aningenue in comedy, the other in tragedy. They were neither comic nortragic, but modest and charming. There was also a small shop-keeper, covered with jewels. She sat very rigid, far forward on the bench, compressed into a terrible corset which forced her breast and backinto the humps of a punchinello; her legs hanging just short of thefloor. Her daughter paced up and down the long room like a coltsnorting impatiently to be put through its paces. She had the beautyof a classic type, without spot or blemish, but her joints looked tooheavy and her neck was thrust without grace between her largeshoulders. Anyone who looked into the future would have been able topredict for her, with some certainty, an honourable career as atragedian in the provinces. 

Madame Darbois seated herself on the only chair in the little office. When the official had read Esperance's birth certificate, heexclaimed, "What! Mademoiselle is the daughter of the famous professorof philosophy?'"

The two women looked at each other with amazement. 

"Why, ladies, " went on the official, radiantly, "my son is takingcourses with M. Darbois at the Sorbonne. What a pleasure it is to meetyou--but how does it happen that M. Darbois has allowed. .. ?" Hissentence died in his throat. Madame Darbois had become very pale andher daughter's nostrils quivered. The official finished with hispapers, returned them politely to Madame Darbois, and said in a lowtone, "Have no anxiety, Madame, the little lady has a wonderful futurebefore her. "

The two ladies thanked the official and made their way toward thedoor. The group of young men bowed to the young girl, and she inclinedher head ever so slightly. 

"Oh, la-la, " screamed the big chamber-maid. 

Esperance stopped on the threshold and looked directly at the woman, who blushed, and said nothing more. 

"Ho, ho, " jeered one of the youths, "she settled you finely that time, didn't she?"

An argument ensued instantly, but Esperance had gone her way, trembling with happiness. Everything in life seemed opening for her. For the first time she was aware of her own individuality; for thefirst time she recognized in herself a force: would that force workfor creation or destruction? The child pressed her hands against herfluttering heart. 

M. Darbois was waiting at the window. At sight of him, Esperancejumped from the carriage before it stopped. "What a little creature ofextremes!" mused the professor. 

When she threw her arms about him to thank him, he loosed her handsquickly. "Come, come, we haven't time to talk of that. We must sitdown at once. Marguerite is scolding because the dinner is going to bespoiled. "

To Esperance the dinner was of less than no importance, but she threwaside her hat obediently, pulled forward her father's chair, and satdown between the two beings whom she adored, but whom she was forcedto see suffer if she lived in her own joy--and that she could not, andwould not, hide. 

CHAPTER III

The weeks before the long-expected day of the examination wentby all too slowly to suit Esperance. She had chosen, for thecomedy test to study a scene from _Les Femmes Savantes_ (therôle of "_Henriette_"), and in tragedy a scene from _Iphygenia_. Adhemar Meydieux often came to inquire about his goddaughter'sstudies. He wished to hear her recite, to give her advice; butEsperance refused energetically, still remembering his formeropposition against him. She would let no one hear her recitations, buther mother. Madame Darbois put all her heart into her efforts to helpher daughter. Every morning she went through her work with Esperance. To her the rôle of "_Henriette_" was inexplicable. She consultedher husband, who replied, "'_Henriette_' is a little philosopheresswith plenty of sense. Esperance is right to have chosen this scenefrom _Les Femmes Savantes_. Molière's genius has never exhibitedfiner raillery than in this play. " And he enlarged upon the psychologyof "_Henriette's_" character until Madame Darbois realized with surprisethat her daughter was completely in accord with the ideas laid downby her father as to the interpretation of this rôle. Esperance wasso young it seemed impossible that she could yet understand all thedouble subtleties. .. . 

Esperance had taken her first communion when she was eleven, and afterher religious studies ended, she had thought of nothing but poetry, and had even tried to compose some verses. Her father had encouragedher, and procured her a professor of literature. From that time thechild had given herself completely to the art of the drama, learningby heart and reciting aloud the most beautiful parts of Frenchliterature. Her parents, listening with pleasure to her recitations ofRonsard or Victor Hugo, little guessing that the child was alreadydreaming of the theatre. Often since then, Madame Darbois hadreproached herself for having foreseen so little, but her husband, whose wisdom recognized the uselessness of vain regrets, would calmher, saying with a shake of his head, "You can prevent nothing, mydear wife, destiny is a force against which all is impotent! We canbut remove the stumbling-blocks from the path which Esperance mustfollow. We must be patient!"

At last the day arrived! Never had the young girl been more charming. François Darbois had been working arduously on the correction of abook he was about to publish, when he saw her coming into his library. He turned towards her and, regarding her there in the doorway, seemedto see the archangel of victory--such radiance emanated from this fraillittle body. 

"I wanted to kiss you, father, before going . .. There. Pardon me forhaving disturbed you. " He pressed her close against his heart withoutspeaking, unwilling to pronounce the words of regret that mounted tohis lips. 

Esperance was silent for an instant before her father's grief: thenwith an exaltation of her whole being she flung herself on herfather's neck: "Oh, father, dear father, I am so happy that you mustnot suffer; you love me so much that you must be happy in thishappiness I owe to you; to-morrow, perhaps, will bring me tears. Let uslive for to-day. "

The professor gently stroked his daughter's velvet cheek. "Go, mydarling, go and return triumphant. "

In the reception-room Esperance and Madame Darbois went to the samebench, where they had sat upon their former visit. Some fifty peoplewere assembled. 

The same official came to speak to them, and, consulting the listwhich he was holding ostentatiously, "There are still five pupilsbefore you, Mademoiselle, two boys and three young ladies. Whom haveyou chosen to give you your cues?"

Esperance looked at him with amazement. "I don't understand, " shesaid, Madame Darbois was perturbed. 

"But, " answered the man, "you must have an '_Armande_' for _Les FemmesSavantes_, an '_Agememnon_' and a '_Clytemnestra_' for _Iphygenia_. "

"But we did not know that, " stammered Madame Darbois. 

The official smiled and assumed still more importance. "Wait just amoment, ladies. " Soon he returned, leading a tall, young girl with adignified bearing, and a young man of evident refinement. "Here is Mlle. Hardouin, who is willing to give you the cues for '_Armande_' and'_Clytemnestra_, ' and M. Jean Perliez, who will do the '_Agememnon_. 'Only, I believe, " he added, "you will have to rehearse with them. Iwill take all four of you into my little office where no one candisturb you. "

Mlle. Hardouin was a beautiful, modest young girl of eighteen, withcharming manners. She was an orphan and lived with a sister ten yearsolder, who had been a mother to her. They adored each other. The oldersister had established a good trade for herself as a dressmaker; bothsisters were respected and loved. 

Jean Perliez was the son of a chemist. His father had been unwillingthat he should choose a theatrical career until he should havecompleted his studies at college. He had obeyed, graduatedbrilliantly, and was now presenting himself for the entranceexamination as a tragedian. 

The three young people went over the two scenes Esperance had chosentogether. 

"What a pretty voice you have, Mademoiselle, " said Genevieve Hardouintimidly. 

After the rehearsal of _Les Femmes Savantes_, when they finished thescene of _Iphygenia_, Jean Perliez turned to Madame Darbois and inquiredthe name of Esperance's instructor. 

"Why, she had none. My daughter has worked alone; I have given her thecues. " She smiled that benevolent smile, which always lighted herfeatures with a charm of true goodness and distinction. 

"That is indeed remarkable, " murmured Jean Perliez, as he looked atthe young girl. Then bending towards Madame Darbois, "May I bepermitted, Madame, to ask your daughter to give me the cues of'_Junia_' in _Britannicus_? The young lady who was to have played itis ill. "

Madame Darbois hesitated to reply and looked towards Esperance. 

"Oh! yes, mama, of course you will let me, " said that young lady, ingreat spirits. And without more ado, "We must rehearse, must we not?Let us begin at once. "

The young man offered her the lines. "I don't need them, " she saidlaughing, "I know '_Junia_' by heart. " And, indeed, the rehearsalpassed off without a slip, and the little cast separated afterexchanging the most enthusiastic expressions of pleasure. 

A comrade asked Perliez, "Is she any good, that pretty little blonde?"

"Very good, " Perliez replied curtly. 

Everything went well for Esperance. Her appearance on the miniaturestage where the examinations were held caused a little sensation amongthe professor-judges. 

"What a heavenly child!" exclaimed Victorien Sardou. 

"Here is truly the beauty of a noble race, " murmured Delaunay, thewell-known member of the Comedie-Française. 

The musical purity of Esperance's voice roused the assemblyimmediately out of its torpor. The judges, no longer bored andindifferent, followed her words with breathless attention, and whenshe stopped a low murmur of admiration was wafted to her. 

"Scene from _Iphygenia_, " rasped the voice of the man whose dutyit was to make announcements. There was a sound of chairs beingdragged forward, and the members of the jury settling themselves tothe best advantage for listening. Here in itself was a miniaturetriumph, repressed by the dignity assumed by all the judges, but whichEsperance appreciated none the less. She bowed with the sensitivegrace characteristic of her. Genevieve Hardouin and Jean Perliezcongratulated her with hearty pressures of the hand. 

As she was leaving Sardou stopped her in the vestibule. "Tell me, please, Mademoiselle, are you related to the professor of philosophy?"

"He is my father, " the girl answered very proudly. 

Delaunay had arisen. "You are the daughter of François Darbois! Weare, indeed, proud to be able to present our compliments to you. Youhave an extraordinary father. Please tell him that his daughter haswon every vote. "

Esperance read so much respect and sincerity in his expression thatshe curtsied as she replied, "My father will be very happy that thesewords have been spoken by anyone whom he admires as sincerely as M. Delaunay. "

Then she went quickly on her way. 

As soon as they were back on the Boulevard Raspail and home, Esperanceand her mother moved towards the library. Marguerite, the maid, stopped them. "Monsieur has gone out. He was so restless. IsMademoiselle satisfied?"

"I was; but I am not any more, Marguerite, since papa is not here. Washe feeling badly?"

"Well, he was not very cheerful, Mademoiselle, but I should not saythat there was anything really the matter with him. "

Mother and daughter started. Someone was coming upstairs. Esperanceran to the door and fell into the arms of that dearly-loved parent. Hekissed her tenderly. His eyes were damp. 

"Come, come, dear, that I may tell you. .. . "

"Your lunch is ready, " announced Marguerite. 

"Thank you, " replied Esperance; "papa, mama, and I, we are all dyingof hunger. "

Madame Darbois gently removed her daughter's hat. 

"Please, dear papa, I want to tell you everything. "

"Too late, dear child, I know everything!"

The two ladies seemed surprised. "But--? How?"

"Through my friend, Victor Perliez, the chemist; who is, like me, afather who feels deeply about his child's choice of a career. "

Esperance made a little move. 

"No, little girl, " went on François Darbois, "I do not want to causeyou the least regret. Every now and then my innermost thoughts mayescape me; but that will pass. .. . I know that you showed unusualsimplicity as '_Henriette_, ' and emotion as '_Iphygenia_. ' Perliez'sson, whom I used to know when he was no higher than that, " he said, stretching out his hand, "was enthusiastic? He is, furthermore, aclever boy, who might have made something uncommon out of himselfas a lawyer, perhaps. But--"

"But, father dear, he will make a fine lawyer; he will have aninfluence in the theatre that will be more direct, more beneficial, more far-reaching, than at the Bar. Oh! but yes! You remember, don'tyou, mama, how disturbed you were by M. Dubare's plea on behalf of theassassin of Jeanne Verdier? Well, is it not noble to defend the poets, and introduce to the public all the new scientific and politicalideas?"

"Often wrong ideas, " remarked Darbois. 

"That is perhaps true, but what of it? Have you not said a thousandtimes that discussion is the necessary soil for the development of newideas?"

The professor of philosophy looked at his daughter, realizing thatevery word he had spoken in her hearing, all the seed that he had castto the wind, had taken root in her young mind. 

"But, " inquired Madame Darbois, "where did you see M. Perliez?"

The professor began to smile. "Outside the Conservatoire. Perliez andI ran into each other, both impelled by the same extreme anxietytowards the scene of our sacrifice. It is not really necessary toconsult all the philosophical authorities on this subject of inanitionof will, " he added, wearily. 

"Oh! chocolate custard, " cried out Esperance with rapture, "Margueriteis giving us a treat. "

"Yes, Mademoiselle, I knew very well. .. . "

A ring at the front door bell cut short her words. They listenedsilently, and heard the door open, and someone come in. Then the maidentered with a card. 

François Darbois rose at once. "I will see him in the salon, " he said. 

He handed the card to his wife and went to meet his visitor. Esperanceleaned towards her mother and read with her the celebrated name, "Victorien Sardou. " Together they questioned the import of this visit, without being able to find any satisfactory explanation. 

When François entered the salon, Sardou was standing, his handsclasped behind him, examining through half-closed eyes a delicatepastel, signed Chaplain--a portrait of Madame Darbois at twenty. Atthe professor's entry, he turned round and exclaimed with the engagingfriendliness that was one of his special charms, "What a very prettything, and what superb colour!"

Then advancing, "It is to M. François Darbois that I have the pleasureof speaking, is it not?"

He had not missed the formality in the surprise evinced by theprofessor as, without speaking, the professor bowed him towards achair. 

"Let me say to begin with, my dear professor, that I am one of yourmost fervent followers. Your last book, _Philosophy is notIndifference_, is, in my opinion, a work of real beauty. Yourdoctrine does not discourage youth, and after reading your book, Idecided to send my sons to your lectures. "

François Darbois thanked the great author. The ice was broken. Theydiscussed Plato, Aristotle, Montaigne, Schaupenhauer, etc. VictorienSardou heard the clock strike; he had lunched hastily and had to beback at the Conservatoire by two o'clock, as the jury still had tohear eleven pupils. He began laughing and talking very fast, in hishabitual manner: "I must tell you, however, why I have come; yourdaughter, who passed her examination this morning, is very excellent. She has the making of a real artist; the voice, the smile, the grace, the distinction, the manner, the rhythm. This child of fifteen hasevery gift! I am now arranging a play for the Vaudeville. Theprincipal rôle is that of a very young girl. Just at present there areonly well-worn professionals in the theatre. "

He rose. "Will you trust your daughter to me? I promise her a goodpart, an engagement only for my play, and I assure you of hersuccess. "

M. Darbois, in his amazement and in spite of the impatience of theacademician, withheld his answer. "Pray permit me, " he said, touchingthe bell, "to send for my daughter. It is with great anxiety, I admitto you, that I have given her permission to follow a theatricalcareer, so now I must consult her, while still trying to advise. "

Then to the maid, "Ask Madame and Mademoiselle to come here. "

Sardou came up to the professor and pressed his hand gratefully. "Youare consistent with your principles. I congratulate you; that is veryrare, " he said. 

The two ladies came in. 

"Ah, " he continued, glancing toward the pastel, after he had greetedMadame Darbois, "Here is the model of this beautiful portrait. "

The gracious lady flushed, a little embarrassed, but flattered. Afterthe introduction, Sardou repeated his proposal to Esperance, who, withvisible excitement, looked questioningly at her father. 

"It seems to me, " said Madame Darbois, timidly, "that this is ratherpremature. Do you feel able to play so soon in a real theatre, beforeso many people?"

"I feel ready for anything, " said the radiant girl quickly, in a clearvoice. 

Sardou raised his head and looked at her. 

"If you think, M. Sardou, that I can play the character, I shall beonly too happy to try; the chance you give me seems to come fromdestiny. I must endeavour as soon as possible to appease my dearfather for his regret for having given me my own way. "

François would have spoken, but she prevented him, drawing closer tohim. "Oh, dear papa, in spite of yourself, I see this depression comesback to you. I want to succeed, and so drive away your heavythoughts. "

"Then, " said Sardou quickly, to relieve them all of the emotion theywere feeling, "it is quite agreed. " Turning to Madame Darbois, who wastrembling, "Do not be alarmed, dear Madame; we still have six or eightmonths before the plan will be ready for realization, which I feelsure will be satisfactory to all of us. I see that you are ready to goout; are you returning to the Conservatoire?"

"Yes, " said Esperance, "I promised to give '_Junia's_' cues to M. Jean Perliez. "

"The son of another learned man! The Conservatoire is favoured to-day, "said Sardou. "I shall be pleased to escort you, Madame, " he added, bowing politely to Madame Darbois, "and this child shall unfold to meon the way her ideas on the drama: they must be well worth hearing. "

It was already late. The two gentlemen shook hands, anticipating that, henceforth, they would meet as friends. 

When they had left him, François looked at the pastel, which he hadnot examined for a long time. The young girl smiled at him with thatsmile that had first charmed him. He saw himself asking M. De Gossec, a rich merchant, for the hand of his daughter Germaine. He brushed hishand across his forehead as if to remove the memory of the refusal hehad received on that occasion: then he smiled at the new vision whichrose before his imagination. He saw himself in the church of St. Germain des Pres, kneeling beside Germaine de Gossec, trembling withemotion and happiness. A cloud of sadness passed over his face: now hewas following the hearse of his father-in-law, who had committedsuicide, leaving behind him a load of debt. The philosopher'sexpression grew proud and fierce. The first thirteen years of hismarriage had been devoted to paying off this debt: then came the deathof the sister of M. De Gossec, leaving her niece eight hundredthousand francs, five hundred thousand of which had served to pay thedebt. For the last four years the family had been living in thiscomfortable apartment on the Boulevard Raspail, very happy and withoutmaterial worries: but how cruel those first thirteen years had beenfor this young woman! He gazed at the pastel for a long time, his eyesfilling with tears. "Oh, my dear, dear wife!"

In the carriage on the way to the Conservatoire the conversation wasvery animated. The dramatic author was listening with great interestwhile the young girl explained her theories on art and life. "What astrange little being, " he thought, and his penetrating glance tried invain to discover what weakness was most likely to attack this littlecreature who seemed so perfect. 

The carriage stopped at the Conservatoire. Jean Perliez was waiting atthe foot of the stairs. At sight of them his face lighted up. "I wasafraid that you had forgotten me in the joy of your success. "

The girl looked at him in amazement. "How could I forget when I hadgiven my word?"

"You know Victorien Sardou?"

"Only to-day, " said Esperance laughing; "yesterday we did not knowhim. "

They were back in the reception-room which was only a little lessnoisy than it was in the morning. Many candidates believed that theyhad been accepted; several had even received encouraging applause;others, who had been received in frigid silence, comforted themselveswith the reflection that they had at least been allowed to finish. 

When Jean Perliez and Esperance entered the auditorium there was aflattering stir, as much in pleasure at seeing the young girl again, as in welcome to the future actor. 

"Scene from _Britannicus_, M. Jean Perliez, '_Nero_'; Mlle. Esperance Darbois, '_Junia_, '" proclaimed the usher. 

The scene was so very well enacted that a "Bravo" broke from thelearned group around the table. Which one of the judges had not beenable to contain his admiration? The young actors could not decide. Each one believed sincerely the success was due to the other. Theycongratulated each other with charming expressions of delight, andtook each other by the hand. 

"We shall be good friends, shall we not, M. Perliez?" said Esperance. 

The young man turned quite red, and when Madame Darbois held out herhand to him, he kissed it politely, with the kiss he had not dared togive to Esperance. 

CHAPTER IV

Esperance having chosen the stage as her career, the whole householdwas more or less thrown into confusion. It became necessary to makeseveral new arrangements. As François Darbois was not willing that hiswife should accompany Esperance every day to the Conservatoire, itbecame quite a problem to find a suitable person to undertake thisduty. 

For the first time in her life Madame Darbois had to endurehumiliating refusals. The young widow of an officer was directed by afriend of the family to apply. She seemed a promising person. 

"You will have to be here every morning by nine, " Madame Darbois saidto her, "and you will be free every afternoon by four. The course isgiven in the morning, but twice a week there are classes also in theafternoon; on those days you will lunch with us. "

"And Sundays?"

"Your Sundays will be your own. The Conservatoire has no classes onSunday. "

"So I understand that you would employ me only to accompany yourdaughter to the Conservatoire, Madame!" said the officer's widow, dryly. "I shall be compelled to refuse your offer. I am unfortunatelyforced to work to support my two children, but I owe some respect tothe name I bear. The Conservatoire is a place of perdition, and I amastonished, " she added, "that the professor, who is so universallyesteemed and respected, could have been able. .. . "

Madame Darbois rose to her feet. She was very pale. "It is notnecessary for you to judge the actions of my husband, Madame. That isenough. "

When she was left alone Madame Darbois reflected sadly upon thenarrow-mindedness of her fellow creatures. Then she reproached herselfwith her own inexperience that put her at the mercy of the firststupid prude she encountered. She was well aware that theConservatoire was not supposed to be a centre of culture andeducation, but she had already observed the modesty and independenceof several of the young girls there: the well-informed minds of mostof the young men. Nevertheless, she had had her lesson, and wascareful not to lay herself open to any new affront. After someconsideration, she engaged a charming old lady, named EleanoreFrahender, who had been companion in a Russian family, and was nowliving in a convent in the Faubourg Saint-Germain, where onlytrustworthy guests could be received. The old lady loved art andpoetry, and as soon as she had met Esperance, was full of enthusiasmfor her new duties. The young girl and she agreed in many tastes, andvery soon they were great friends. 

M. Darbois was quite contented with the arrangement, and could nowattend to his work with complete tranquillity. Every morning thefamily gathered in the dining-room at half-past eight to take theircoffee together. Esperance would recount all the little events of theday before and her studies for the day to come. Whenever she felt anydoubt about an ambiguous phrase, she went at once to get her father'sadvice upon it. Sometimes Genevieve Hardouin would drop in to talkwith her and Mlle. Frahender. Esperance adored Racine and refused tostudy Corneille, before whom Genevieve bowed in enthusiasticadmiration. 

"He is superhuman, " she exclaimed, fervently. 

"That is just what I reproach him for, " returned Esperance. "Racine ishuman, that is why I love him. None of Corneille's heroines move me atall, and I loathe the sorrows of '_Phaedre_. '"

"And '_Chimene_'?" asked Genevieve Hardouin. 

"'_Chimene_' has no interest for me. She never does as shewishes. "

"How feminine!" said the professor, gently. 

"Oh! you may be right, father dear, but grief is one and indivisible. Her father, cruelly killed by her lover, must kill her love for thelover, or else she does not love her father: and, that being the case, she doesn't interest me at all. She is a horrid girl. " Tenderly sheembraced her father, who could easily pardon her revolt againstCorneille, because he shared her weakness for Racine. 

Several months after Esperance's most encouraging admission to theConservatoire, Victorien Sardou wrote a note to François Darbois, withwhom he had come to be warm friends, warning him that he was sooncoming to lunch with them, to read his new play to the family. Esperance was wild with excitement. The time of waiting for the eventseemed interminable to her. Her father tried in vain to calm her withphilosophical reflections. Creature of feeling and impulse that shewas, nothing could control her excitement. 

Sardou had also asked François Darbois to invite Mlle. Frahender, whose generous spirit and whose tact and judgment he much esteemed. The old lady arrived, carrying as usual the little box with the lacecap which she donned as soon as her bonnet was laid aside. On thisgreat day the little cap was embellished by a mauve satin ribbon, contrasting charmingly with the silver of her hair. 

All through lunch Esperance was delightful. Her quick responses toSardou's questions were amazing in their logic. The extreme purity ofthis young soul seeking self-expression so courageously, struck thetwo men with particular emphasis. 

The reading was a great success. The part intended for Esperance, theyoung girl's part, the heroine of the piece, had become of primaryimportance. Sardou had been able to study Esperance's qualificationsduring the months he had been a frequent visitor at the Darbois'shome, and he had made the most of his prescience. 

Lack of experience of the theatre, so natural in a child of sixteen, suggested several scenes of pure comedy. Then, as the drama developed, the author had heightened the intensity of the rôle by several scenesof real pathos, relying completely on Esperance to interpret them forhim. Quite overcome by the death of the heroine she was toimpersonate, she thanked the author, with tears streaming down hercheeks, her hands icy, her heart beating so furiously that the linenof her white blouse rose and fell. 

"It is rather I who shall be thanking you the day of the firstproduction, " said Sardou much touched, as he wrapped round his neckthe large, white square he always wore. "I believe that to-day has notbeen wasted. "

The rehearsals began. Sardou had asked for and obtained from theConservatoire six months leave for his young protégée, but Esperancewould on no account consent to give up her classes. The onlyconcession she would make was to give up the afternoon classes twice aweek. 

The press began to notice this infant prodigy, who wished to remainquite unheralded until her debut. François Darbois, in spite of hisfriendship with several journalists, could not make them adhere totheir promises of silence, and when he complained bitterly to the headof a great daily, "But, my friend, " the editor rejoined, "thatdaughter of yours is particularly fascinating, and certainly when youlaunched her into this whirlpool, you should have remembered that theonly exits are triumph or despair!"

The philosopher grew pale. 

"I believe, " went on his friend, "that this child will vanquish everyobstacle by the force of her will, will stifle all jealousies by thegrace of her purity, and she already belongs to the public, while thefame of your name has simply served for a stepping-stone. You, in yourwisdom, have been able to impart true wisdom to your child. But beforethe public has ever seen her she is famous, and Sardou affirms thatthe day after her appearance she will be the idol of all Paris. I oweit to the profession of journalism to write her up in my paper, and Iam doing it, you must admit, with the utmost reserve. "

CHAPTER V

And so at last the day of the performance came. Esperance, who was soeasily shaken by the ordinary events of life, met any danger or greatevent quite calmly. For this young girl, so delicately fair, so frailof frame, possessed the soul of a warrior. 

The sale of tickets had opened eight days in advance. The agents hadrealized big profits. The first night always creates a sensation inParis. All the social celebrities were in the audience: and, what isless usual, many "intellectuals. " They wished to testify by theirpresence their friendship for François Darbois, and to protest againstcertain journalists, who had not hesitated to say in print that such afurore about an actress (poor Esperance) was prejudicial to thedignity of philosophy. 

In a box was the Minister of Belgium, who had been married lately, andwanted to show his young wife a "first night" in Paris. The FirstSecretary of the Legation was sitting behind the Minister's wife. 

"Look there, that is Count Albert Styvens, " said a journalist, pointing out the Secretary to his neighbour, a young beauty in a very_decolletée_ gown. 

The neighbour laughed. "Is he as reserved and as serious as he looks?"she inquired. 

"So they say. "

"Poor fellow, " answered the pretty woman, with affected pity, examining him through her opera glasses. 

Sardou, behind the scenes, was coming and going, arranging a chair, changing the position of a table, catching his foot in a carpet, swearing, nervous in the extreme. He made a hundred suggestions to themanager, which were received with weariness. He entered intoconversation with the firemen. "Watch and listen, won't you, so thatyou can give me your impression after the first act?" For Sardoualways preferred the spontaneous expressions of workmen and commonpeople to the compliments of his own _confrères_. 

The distant skurry in the wings that always precedes the raising ofthe curtain was audible on the stage. This rattling of properties isvery noticeable to actors new to the theatre, though it is quiteunsuspected by the general public. 

The first act began. The audience was sympathetic, but impatient. However, the author knew his public, knew when to spring hissurprises, how to hold the emotion in reserve until a climax ofapplause at the final triumph. 

Esperance made her first entrance, laughing and graceful, as her rôledemanded. A murmur of admiration mounted from the orchestra to thebalcony. Hers was such startling, such radiant fairness! Her musical, fluting voice acted like as a strange enchantment on the astonishedaudience. From the first moment the public was hers. The critictouched his neighbour's elbow. "Look at Count Albert, he seemsstunned!"

As the Count leaned forward to watch more intently: "Great Heavens, doyou suppose he will fall in love with her, do you believe he willreally care for that little thing?" murmured the woman, mockingly. 

The curtain fell amidst a shower of "Bravos. " Esperance had to returnthree times before the public, which continued to applaud herunstintedly, as she smiled and blushed under her make-up. In spite offifteen minutes' waiting, the intermission did not seem long. Theoccupants of the boxes were busy exchanging calls. 

"She is perfectly adorable, she takes your breath. Just think of it, only sixteen and a half!"

"Do you think it is a wig?"

"Oh! no, that is her own hair--but what a revelation of loveliness!And what a carriage!"

"But her voice above all! I do not think that I have ever heard suchdeclamation!"

"She is still at the Conservatoire?"

"Yes. "

"The Theatre-Française ought to engage her immediately. They wouldfind it would at once increase their subscription list. "

"They say that her father is very much distressed to see her in thetheatre. Why there they are, the Darbois. Don't you see them, in thatbox far back? They are looking very pleased. "

A tall, pale man passed by. 

"Ah! there goes Count Styvens. Have you read the article he wrote inthe _Debats_ this morning?"

"No, he puts me to sleep. "

"I read it; it was rather unusual. "

"What about?"

"About the fecundity of the pollen of flowers. "

The chatter ceased. The count was within hearing. 

"What have you to say about Esperance Darbois?" inquired a young lady. 

The count blushed vividly, an unaccustomed light gleaming in his cleareyes. "It is too soon to pass judgment yet, " he said, losing himselfin the throng again. 

In the Darbois's box there was a constant coming and going of friends. Jean Perliez joined them, his face betraying a conflict of emotionsthat were not lost on the father of Esperance. 

"Did you see my daughter?"

"Yes. I just went to congratulate her. "

"How did you find her?"

"Amazing! She is splendid, but not vain. She seems sure of herself andat the same time shows a little stage fright, a special variety whichmakes her hands like ice, and tightens her throat, as you must havenoticed from the strain in her first speeches. "

"Indeed I noticed it, and was a little frightened, " said Mlle. Frahender. 

"I know, " said Jean Perliez, "but we need not be worried. It does notaffect her powers and the force of her decision. She is invincible. "

He heaved a deep sigh and withdrew into a corner to hide the emotionwhich was choking him. François Darbois had divined the fervent lovethis youth felt for his daughter, and understood the sufferings ofthis timid love which dared not declare itself lest it be repulsed. However, the chemist, the father of this young man, occupied arespected position as a well-to-do man, with an unblemishedreputation. Why should he not declare himself, or at least try to findsome encouragement? François Darbois would have been well contentedwith this marriage. Esperance was still too young, but, once engaged, they could wait awhile. He secretly took cognizance of Jean Perliez'ssufferings, and a wave of pity surged up in his heart. "I will have tospeak to him myself, " he thought. 

The curtain went up, disclosing Esperance, a book in her hand, herback to the public. She was not reading. That was evident from theweary droop of her body, from the rigid gaze into space. A comingstorm was heralded by her quick motion, when she sprang up, threwaside her book, shook the pretty head to drive away the blackbutterflies in her brain, and ran to kiss her stage mother, who wasplaying Bridge with the villainess of the piece. There was suchspontaneity in her movements that the sympathetic audience cried out, "Bravo!"

In the course of the act, Esperance secured several salvos ofapplause. The sustained emotion of the grief that overwhelmed her andthe spasm of weeping which closed the act gave the young artistcomplete assurance of the public's earnest approval. 

Sardou had dropped into the box of the Minister Plenipotentiary. Hehid himself from the public, but sought the opinion of his greatfriend. 

"Will you, " asked the Minister, "present me to your young heroine?"

"Oh! let me come with you, " besought his wife. 

The Belgian Prince looked questioningly at Sardou, and at his nod ofacquiescence they prepared to go and salute the new star just risen inthe Parisian firmament. 

"Come with us, my dear Count. "

Albert Styvens became livid, a cold sweat broke out on his forehead, apolite phrase died in his throat. He rose to his feet and followed thePrince of Bernecourt. 

The little reception-room next to Esperance's dressing-room was fullof flowers, but no one was there. The manager and author had agreedthat no stranger should approach the young artist. Only the family, Jean Perliez and Mlle. Frahender were allowed to enter. This good oldsoul was with Esperance now, as was Marguerite, who was not willing toleave her young mistress. 

Sardou knocked. "Let me know, my dear child, when you are ready. "

The door opened almost immediately, and the young girl rushed joyfullyout into the little room. She stopped short upon seeing threestrangers, and her eyes sought Sardou's, full of startled surprise. 

"I have taken the liberty of disturbing you, little friend. .. . I wantto present you to the Princess de Bernecourt. "

Esperance curtsied with pretty grace. The Minister-Prince complimentedher graciously; he was a dilettante, who could express himself mostcharmingly, in well chosen, artistic terms. 

"Your Excellency overcomes me, " said the young actress. "I shall do mybest to deserve your kindness. "

With a quick movement she re-adjusted her tulle scarf on her shouldersand blushed a little. The Minister turned and saw Albert Styvensstanding with nervous interest--gazing like one bewitched at theenchanting maiden. 

"Let me present to you Count Albert Styvens. "

Esperance inclined her head a little and drew instinctively nearer toMlle. Frahender. 

The Count had not moved. The Prince led him away as soon as he hadmade his adieux to the young girl and the elder lady. 

"Are you ill or insane?" he asked his Secretary. 

"Insane, yes; I think I must be going insane, " murmured the young manin a choking voice. 

The play was in four acts, there were still two to come. The audienceseemed to watch in a delirium of delight, and when the last curtaindropped, they called Esperance back eight times, and demanded theauthor. 

In spite of all the talent displayed by Sardou as author, there wasmuch enthusiasm and an unconscious gratitude in him as the discovererof a new sensation. .. . No comet acclaimed by astronomers as capable ofdoubling the harvest would have moved the populace as did thedescription in all the papers of this new star in Paris. 

CHAPTER VI

The family found itself back on the Boulevard Raspail. The Darbois hadnot cared to leave their box. After every act, Mlle. Frahender carriedtheir comments and tender messages to Esperance. François Darbois hadgreat difficulty in constraining himself to remain in the noisyvestibule. He suffered too acutely at seeing his daughter, that pureand delicate child, the focus of every lorgnette, the subject of everyconversation. Several phrases he had overheard from a group of men hadbrought him to his feet in a frenzy; then he fell back in his placelike one stunned. Nevertheless there had not been one offensive word. It was all praise. 

The philosopher held his daughter in his arms, pressed close againsthis heart, and tears ran down his cheeks. 

"It is the first time, and shall be the last, that I wish to see youon the stage, dear little daughter. It is too painful for me, and whatis worst of all I fear it will take you away from me. "

Esperance replied trembling, "Pardon me, Oh! pardon me, it is such aforce that impels me. I am sorry you suffer so. Oh! don't give way, Ibeg of you!"

She fell on her knees before her father, sobbing and kissing hishands. 

Sardou, who was expected, came in just then, and his exuberance wasdashed to the ground when he witnessed the trouble the family were in. 

"Come, this is foolishness, " he said, helping Esperance to her feet. 

Then turning to the old Mademoiselle, "Here, dear lady, take thischild away to compose herself, wash the tears off her poor littleface, and hurry back, for I am dying of hunger. "

Madame Darbois remembered that she was the hostess, and disappeared tosee if everything was ready in the dining-room. 

 As soon as he was left alone with the philosopher, the authorexclaimed, "In the name of God, man, is this where philosophy leadsyou? You are torturing that child whom you adore! Oh! yes, you aredistressed, I know. The public has this evening taken possession ofyour daughter, but you are powerless to prevent it, and now is the timefor you to apply to yourself your magnetic maxims. Esperance is one ofthose creatures who are only born once in a hundred years or so; somecome as preservers, like Joan of Arc; others serve as instruments ofvengeance of some occult power" (Sardou was an ardent believer in theoccult). "Your child is a force of nature, and nothing can prevent herdestiny. The fact that you have seen her brilliant development in spiteof the grey environment of her first sixteen years, should convince youof the uselessness of your protests or regrets. The career that she haschosen is bristling with dangers, and full of disillusions, and givesfree rein to a pitiless horde of calumniators. That cannot be helped. Your task, my friend, " he added more calmly, "is to protect yourdaughter, and above all to assure her of a refuge of tenderness, andlove and understanding. "

Esperance came back, followed by her mother and the old Mademoiselle. Her father held out his arms to her and whispered, "You werewonderful, darling; I am happy to. .. . "

He could not go on, and put his hot lips against her beautiful pureforehead to avoid the embarrassment that distressed him so powerfully. 

Thanks to Sardou's gifts as a _raconteur_, the supper passed offpleasantly enough. This great man could unfold the varied pages of hismind with disconcerting ease. He knew everything, and could talk andact with inimitable vivacity. His anecdotes were always instructive, drawn from his manifold sources of knowledge in art or science. Mlle. Frahender was stupified by so much eclecticism, the philosopher forgothis grief, Madame Darbois realized for the first time that there mightexist a brain worthy of comparison with her husband's. As toEsperance, she was living in a dream of what the future would unfold. One evening had sufficed for her to conquer Paris, to capture theprovinces, and arouse the foreigner, frequently so indifferent togreat artistic achievements. 

The young pupil pursued her courses at the Conservatoire, in spite ofSardou's remonstrances that she would find it fatiguing. The modestyand simplicity of her return to the midst of her comrades restored herto the popularity her triumph had endangered. 

"She is, you know, quite a 'sport, '" pronounced a sharp young person, who was destined to take the parts of the aggressive modern female. 

A tall young man, with a grave face and settled manner, approachingbaldness, in spite of his twenty-three years, pressed Jean Perliez'shand affectionately. "Don't give in, old fellow, keep up hope. Younever know!"

Jean smiled sadly, shaking his head. He looked at Esperance, who waslovelier than ever. He had waited for her at the foot of the stairway, for the intimacy of the two families gave him a chance to know when toexpect his glorious little friend. 

"Why, how pale you are, Jean!" she exclaimed at sight of him. "What isthe matter with you?"

"What is the matter with me?" he murmured. 

"What is the matter with him?" echoed several of the students. 

Esperance alone was not aware what was the matter with him, poorfellow, for, in spite of the encouragement of François Darbois, Jeanwould say nothing. He realized the shock that it would be toEsperance. She liked him so much as a friend! On the long walks theytook, with Genevieve Hardouin and Mlle. Frahender, she had very oftenfrankly confided to him that she did not want to think about gettingmarried for years and years!

"I want to live for my art, " she would say, "and I will never marry anartist!"

He had then thought very seriously of giving up the theatre andbecoming a barrister, as his father had always wished him to do, butthat would mean that he would lose the chance of seeing Esperance sooften. 

Jean Perliez had become great friends with Maurice Renaud, the girl'scousin. They both talked of her and loved her, but Maurice's love wasmore selfish, less deeply rooted. He was not jealous of Perliez; hewas sorry for him and counselled him to speak up, since his uncle, theprofessor, was in sympathy with him. 

"No, " said Jean, "she is really too young to understand. "

Maurice shrugged his shoulders. "It is true that Esperance is not yetseventeen, but her intelligence has always been ahead of her years. Attwelve she could outdo me by the logic of her reasoning on themysteries of religion. We both adore, my dear Jean, a veryextraordinary little person. I will get out of your way gracefully, ifyou succeed; but I have a presentiment that neither you nor I will bethe lucky fellow. I shall console myself, but you, take care!"

Esperance suspected nothing of the different emotions she was causing. Her youth guarded her against any betrayal of the senses. She thoughtthat love was the natural result of marriage. The great passions asthe poets sang them exalted her spirit, made her heart beat faster, but for her they remained in the realms of the ideal. 

CHAPTER VII

A horrible catastrophe occurred in Belgium, leaving the inhabitants ofthe lower quarter of Brussels without shelter or clothing. Relief wasorganized on all sides, and the Theatre-Française announced a greatrepresentation of _Hernani_ to be given as a benefit for thesufferers in the Royal Theatre de la Monnaie in Brussels. The star whohad undertaken "_Dona Sol_" fell ill ten days before the performancewas due. The Comedie was much embarrassed, for the usual understudyof the indisposed actress was an amiable echo, with little talent. Mounet-Sully thought immediately of Esperance and obtained permissionto make whatever arrangements he could with her. His arrival at theDarbois home occasioned great excitement. 

"I claim your indulgence in the name of charity, Monsieur, " he said toFrançois. "The Comedie-Française finds itself in the most awkwardquandary. We have prepared a big gala performance at La Monnaie, toraise money for all those poor Belgian sufferers. "

"Oh! I have seen the notices, " said Esperance, "with artistes of theComedie, even in the smaller rôles. What would I not give to see thatproduction!"

Mounet-Sully smiled. "If your father will give his permission, Mademoiselle, you can certainly see it; for I have come to ask you totake part therein. "

"What do you mean?" asked M. Darbois curiously. 

"Our '_Dona Sol_' is sick, very sick, and her understudy is notequal to such an occasion. The last examination you passed in_Hernani_ delighted us with your manner of interpreting the rôle. We will give you all the rehearsals you need at the Comedie; you willbe assisting at a work of charity, and you will be recompensed forwhatever outlay or expense that you may incur. "

Esperance drew herself up. "If my father will give his consent for meto make my own reply. .. . "

"Yes, " said the professor simply. 

"Then I will say . .. Thank you, father dear, " she said, tremulously, "I will say that I am happier than I can possibly tell you, at thegreat honour you have done me, but that I do not want any recompense. "

Mounet-Sully started to speak. 

"Oh! no, I beg you, do not spoil my joy. "

"Then, we will take care of your travelling expenses, and those ofyour party. "

She contracted her beautiful eyebrows a little. "Oh! M. Mounet-Sully, I am rich just now, think of all the money that I have made these fourmonths that we have been giving Victorien Sardou's play. I don't wantanything, I am glad, so glad. .. . "

She kissed her father and her mother impulsively, and also theastonished old Mademoiselle. 

"What about me?" asked Mounet-Sully gaily; "do I not get my reward?"

She held up her forehead for a salutation from the artist, who tookleave of the family, glowing with delight at the good news he had tocarry back to the Comedie. 

"To-morrow you will get a schedule of rehearsals, " he called from thedoorway. 

Madame Darbois was worried about the journey, and Mlle. Frahenderagreed to accompany Esperance. It was decided that Marguerite shouldgo to look after them. The faithful soul had practically brought upthe child; her zeal and devotion were unfailing. 

But M. Darbois raised the objection, "You should have a man with you. "

The door bell rang, then they heard a voice, "In the salon? Don'tbother to announce me, I'll go up!"

Maurice Renaud entered immediately, followed by Jean Perliez. 

"Well, my boy, " said François Darbois to his nephew, "you are quite astranger; it must be a month since we saw you last. You are mostwelcome. "

He shook hands cordially with both young men. He was struck by Jean'ssad expression and hollow cheeks. "You are not looking like yourself, my friend. "

Jean did not hear this, he was gazing at Esperance, so pretty in herfeather toque. 

"We are come, uncle, expressly to ask your permission to accompanymy cousin to Brussels. We were told of the project yesterday byMounet-Sully, and if you approve. .. . "

"On my word, my dear fellow, " cried out the professor, delightedly, "you will do me a real service, I was just considering about writingto Esperance's godfather!"

"What a narrow escape! papa darling, and what a horrid surprise youwere plotting without giving any sign!"

"Then you prefer this arrangement? You accept Maurice and Jean as yourknights-errant? I am delighted with the arrangement, and I hope thatMlle. Frahender will raise no objection. "

The gentle old lady smiled at them all. She was very fond of JeanPerliez, and Maurice Renaud's high spirits delighted her. 

It was decided that Jean, as most responsible, should be in charge ofall the details of the journey. François Darbois led him into thelibrary and entrusted him with a goodly sum of money. 

"This should cover your expenses. I count upon you, my young friend, and I thank you. "

He paused a moment, then asked affectionately, "Have you no hope?"

"None, " replied Jean, simply, "but what does it matter, but to-day, atleast, I am quite happy!"

Two days after this visit, the notice of the first rehearsals wasreceived. Esperance was at the theatre long before the hour required, and went at once towards the stage. The curtain had just been raised, and the lamp of the servant dusting served only to lighten the gloom. Followed by Mlle. Frahender, the young girl traversed the corridorornamented with marble busts and pictures of the famous artists whohad made the house of Molière more illustrious by their talent. Withbeating heart, she descended the four steps that led to the stage. 

There she stopped shivering. She seemed to see shadows drawing nearher, and her hand clenched that of the old Mademoiselle. 

"What is it, Esperance?"

"Nothing, nothing. "

"Was that not Talma, down there, and Mlle. Clairon and Mlle. Mars, andRachel, that magnificent, expressive masque there . .. Look?"

Mounet-Sully came in. Esperance still seemed in a dream. 

"Your pardon, master, the atmosphere of glory that one breathes herehas intoxicated me a little. "

During the rehearsal the music of the voice of the new "_DonaSol_" blended charmingly with the powerful accents of the greatactor, so that all the artists listened with emotion and delight. 

In the final act, when "_Dona Sol_, " beside herself, raises herpoignard to "_Don Ruy Gomez_, " saying, "I am of the family, uncle, " there was an outburst of "Bravos" for Esperance, who, erectand trembling, shoulders thrown back, had just sobbed these words ina vibrant voice between clenched teeth. With her pale face andout-stretched arm, she might have been the statue of despairstruggling with destiny. 

Madame Darbois was heavy hearted to have her go. It was the first timethat she had been parted from her daughter for even a few days. Sheoften looked at her husband, hoping that he would understand heranxiety and urge her not to go, too. Jean and Maurice came to escortEsperance, who had been ready for a long time. Mlle. Frahender wascarrying a cardboard box, containing two bonnets and a light cloth, inwhich to wrap her hat in in the train. All the rest of her belongingswere contained in a little attaché case of grey duck, so flat that itseemed impossible that it could contain anything. 

When Madame Darbois saw them drive away, she was filled with distress, and as there was maternal anxiety in the mother's breast, so was thereforeboding of evil in the father's mind. 

"I hope nothing bad will happen, " thought the good woman, "but railwayaccidents are so common nowadays. "

"Who will she be seeing while she is away? What is destiny providingfor her? My child is not armed against adventure, " the philosopher wasthinking. 

The two looked at each other, divining the miserable anxiety to whichthe other was prey. 

The rough, strident notes of Adhemar Meydieux's voice suddenly brokeupon this atmosphere of gentle melancholy--"Well! what is this I hear?Esperance has gone; it is madness! I read in my paper this morningthat she is going to play '_Dona Sol_' at Brussels! So I havecome to escort her. "

François wrung his hand without saying a word. 

"What is the matter with you, " went on Adhemar, "you seem to havechanged into pillars of salt. I know very well that the theatre isSodom and Gomorrah in one, but wait a little before you give wayentirely! Who is going with my goddaughter?"

"Mlle. Frahender, Marguerite, Maurice Renaud and Jean Perliez, " thepoor mother hastened to say. 

"And what an escort, " jeered Adhemar. "The old mademoiselle will beopen-mouthed before her pupil, she knows nothing of life. Providedthat Esperance obeys the commandments of the Church and does not missMass on Sunday, she will be satisfied. Her piety and her sudden loveof the theatre coincide with her attempt to save a soul; but I tellyou that she cannot see farther than the end of her nose, which, though long enough in all conscience, doesn't furnish elevation formuch view. And, " he continued, pleased with his wit, "Maurice Renaud, that wild rascal, is he apt to inspire respect for Esperance? As toJean Perliez, the poor little ninny is head over heels in love withher. I don't suppose that you have noticed it?"

"Not only noticed it, but encouraged the young man, " said François, "and he would be a very honourable and desirable son-in-law. "

"My poor friend, my good fellow, " and Adhemar collapsed in a chair andrubbed his hands together; "my poor dear friend, and you believe thatEsperance. .. ?"

He laughed aloud. 

"I will thank you to drop that tone of irony which is offensive bothto my wife and to myself, " said the professor rising. "If it pleasesyou to follow your goddaughter to Brussels, do so. I must leave you; Ihave some proofs to correct. _Au revoir_, Meydieux!"

The old blunderer began to realize that he had overstepped the limitsof decorum. 

"But why did she go this morning, instead of by the train with all theother artists this evening?"

"Esperance, " explained Madame Darbois, "left early in order to havetime to see Brussels, which everyone says is a charming city. I thinkit is quite natural, my dear Meydieux, that you want to join yourgoddaughter! I will telegraph to her at once!"

"No, no, " replied Meydieux, very hurriedly. "I would much rathersurprise her. I beg you not to warn her. "

"As you will then. I shall not interfere. "

PART II. BRUSSELS

CHAPTER VIII

Meantime seated in the Brussels express, Esperance had fixed herattention on the constantly changing horizon, and was giving herselfup to myriad impressions as they went fleeting by. The great plainsrolling interminably out of sight pleased her; the light mist risingfrom the earth seemed to her the breath of the shivering tall grasses, offering the sun the drops of dew which glinted at the summit of theirslender stems. She too, on this beautiful autumn morning, felt herselfexpanding towards the sky. Her fresh lips were offering themselves tothe kisses of life. She was at that moment a vision of the radiance ofyouth. Maurice was so struck by her beauty that he drew a littlesketch, and resolved to do her portrait, just as she was at thatmoment. No love entered into this admiration; he saw as a painter, hedreamed as an artist! Jean Perliez looked at the sketch, then at themodel, and was left dazzled and dolorous. Finally magnetized by thelooks fixed upon her, Esperance turned her head away with a little cryof surprise. Mlle. Frahender, who had been asleep, opened her eyes, and straightened the angle of her bonnet. Esperance shook her prettyhead laughing, while Maurice exhibited his sketch and announced to hiscousin his desire to paint her portrait. 

"How pleased my father will be, " she cried. "I thank you in advancefor the joy that you will give him. "

The conversation became general, animated, merry, just what was to beexpected at their happy age. Soon after the train stopped; they hadarrived at Brussels. 

Jean Perliez jumped lightly on to the platform. Mlle. Frahenderadjusted her hat, after having carefully folded up her bonnet, andMaurice helped Marguerite to count the pieces of luggage. Just asEsperance was getting out to help her old companion, she had a feelingof reaction, her face grew pale with fright at an impression she couldnot define: two long arms were stretched towards her. And she recalledthe hallucination or vision she had seen in her own mirror at home, onthe day when she had tried to interrogate destiny. 

Count Albert Styvens was standing on the platform before her, holdingout his arms, his hands open. Totally dazed without understandingherself why it should be so, the young girl closed her eyes. She feltherself lifted, and set down upon the ground. Although the movementhad been one of perfect respect, she felt angry with this man forhaving imposed his will upon her. When she looked at him he wasalready speaking to Mlle. Frahender, whom he recollected having seenin Esperance's room at the Vaudeville. 

"Will you not both take my mother's carriage?" he asked. 

His voice, slow, correct, a little distant, fell on the ear of theyoung actress. 

"But, " Jean objected quickly, "I have engaged the landau from theGrand Hotel. "

"Very well, we three can go in that, " said the Count, as he guided theold lady and the young one towards a perfectly appointed _coupé_, drawn by two magnificent sorrels. 

Esperance, who had been brimful of joy, not ten minutes before, atfinding herself in Brussels, now felt a cloud upon her spirits. Themanner, almost the authority, of this tall, young man of distinction, but of no beauty, of no magnetism, depressed her. She did not wish tohave him take it upon himself to conduct her small affairs, and shestepped into the Countess Styvens's beautiful carriage with thefeeling that she was leaving her liberty behind. 

Albert Styvens got into the hotel landau with the two other young men. They knew the Count very slightly, and regarded him with somecuriosity. Although but twenty-seven, he had a reputation forausterity most unusual for one of his age. 

As the carriage drew up at the hotel, all three young men jumpedlightly out to be ready to help the girl. Mlle. Frahender was receivedon the Count's arm. At the same instant Esperance had bounded out ofthe other door, pleased to have escaped the obligation of thanking theLegation Secretary. 

When she entered the suite that had been reserved, she stoppeda moment in silent astonishment before the flowering vases andribbon-bedecked baskets that filled the reception-room with theirrich colours and delicate perfumes. All that for her! She threw herhat quickly on a chair and ran from vase to basket, from basket tovase. The first card she drew out said Jean Perliez. She looked forhim to thank him, but he had slipped away to hide his confusion. Forhe had taken such pains to order that bouquet through the hotel manager, never foreseeing that others might have had the same idea! A prettybasket of azaleas came from the Director of the Monnaie. In the middleof the room, on a marble table with protruding golden feet, stood ahuge basket of orchids of every shade--this orgy of rare flowers wasan attention from the Count. The girl grew red as she raised her eyesto thank him. He was looking at her so strangely that she stammeredand fled into the next room, where she had seen Mlle. Frahenderdisappear. 

"That man frightens me, " she whispered, pressing close to her oldfriend. 

"Who frightens you, dear child?"

"Count Styvens. "

"That gentlemanly young man, who is so considerate?"

Esperance did not dare to speak her thought. "That is not the way thatothers look at me. " She was ashamed to entertain such an idea!

The _maître d'hôtel_ knocked discreetly to announce lunch. 

"Oh! let us begin at once, so that we shall not lose any time inseeing Brussels!"

They set out in great spirits, following wherever the caprice ofEsperance led them. "Already a famous woman, and what a child she is, "Maurice observed aside to Jean. They had a long ramble, zigzaggingextravagantly about the city. The adorable little artist appreciatedthe beauty of the lovely capital, and the church of Saint Guduledelighted her. They took a cab to go to the Bois de la Cambre. Esperance was much affected by the horses, who led a hard life up anddown the little streets, which were so picturesque in theirunevenness. 

The little expedition was not over until half-past seven. Visitors'cards attracted Mlle. Frahender's attention. They were from theMinister Prince de Bernecourt and the Count Albert Styvens, Secretaryof the Legation. Feeling that she would not see the Count gave theyoung artist the sensation of relief comparable to that of a prisonerwalking straight out of his jail into freedom. 

During dinner Esperance was quite exuberant and proposed a hand at_trente-et-un_ as soon as dessert was finished. "After that, wewill go to bed very early, to have our best looks ready for to-morrow, will we not, my little lady?" she said, placing her slender hand onthe wrinkled fingers of Mlle. Frahender. "My little lady" was the petname Esperance often gave her. 

Maurice was only moderately receptive of the idea of a game of_trente-et-un_, but after consulting the clock, he was reassured. "By ten o'clock I shall be free. "

CHAPTER IX

The next morning Marguerite had some difficulty in waking her youngmistress, who was sleeping soundly. Esperance enquired as soon as herown eyes were well opened, what kind of night her chaperone hadpassed. "Deliciously restful, and you, my dear child, how did yousleep?"

"I never woke once. Oh! what a sun. Have you seen what a glorious dayit is?"

"It is the forerunner of good news, " Jean cried out from the nextroom. 

"Who knows?" said Esperance. 

The telephone at her bedside rung. Marguerite picked up the receiver, and announced dejectedly, "M. Meydieux wishes to speak toMademoiselle. "

"My godfather in Brussels!. .. You see, Jean, that I was right todoubt your omen. "

The young people burst out laughing. 

"Really, " continued Esperance, "I feel that he is going to spoil mytrip here. I don't like him, and his advice never coincides with thatof my father, whom I love so much. "

Meantime M. Meydieux was getting impatient on the telephone. 

"Tell him that I am not up yet, and ask him to lunch with us attwelve-thirty. Then, " she explained to Mlle. Frahender, who had justcome into her room, all powdered, all pinned and bonneted for themorning, "he will not dare to bother me when everybody else ispresent. "

Marguerite was still answering M. Meydieux's excited questions: "What!at half-past nine not up, that is shameful! I must talk to her . .. Iwill come to lunch, oh yes! but above all I must talk to her. "

Esperance was motioning violently to Marguerite to hang up thereceiver, but Mlle. Frahender objected to this lack of courtesy, sothe young girl giving way to her remonstrance yielded gracefully. Sheeven re-requested Marguerite, who knew her godfather's culinarypreferences, to order a lunch that he would like. Then she dressed inhaste to allow herself plenty of time to write to her family. They hadalready exchanged telegrams, but she knew that her father would liketo have a long letter, giving him the minutes, so to speak, ofherself. A tender gratitude swelled up in her, and her eyes were wetas she evoked the image of these two beloved beings reading herletter, commenting upon it, and entering completely for those momentsinto the life of their child. As soon as the letter was finished, sheasked Mlle. Frahender to go with her to post it, so that she couldherself speed it on its way to them. She had a strong desire to getout-doors, even if only for a half-hour. 

As they turned into the square, Esperance stopped, clutching her agedfriend by the arm. "Look there, " she said. 

There were two men side by side in deep conversation. Esperance hadinstantly recognized Count Albert and her godfather. How did AdhemarMeydieux happen to know the Secretary of the Legation?

They had just passed the post-office, so Esperance posted her letterwithout being seen by either of them, and returned to the hotel. Lunchtime brought together all the guests except the godfather, who wouldnot enter until the exact minute, if he had to wait in the corridor. .. . He thought it witty to behave so. His hateful, stupid mind flattereditself on being original. Therefore as the half-hour began to strikehe was pompously ushered in, watch in hand. 

"I am here, you see, to the tick, " he said noisily, kissing theforehead his goddaughter pressed forward to him. Then, turning to thewaiter, "You can serve without delay, " he said. "I like my food hot. "

Mlle. Frahender, although she was well acquainted with the abrupt waysof the godfather, frowned at him with disapprobation. Nevertheless, thanks to Maurice, who made a point of laughing at everything Adhemarsaid, they had a gay luncheon, and Adhemar himself, appreciating theconsideration shown for his palate, cast aside his ill humour andenjoyed with full indulgence the present hour, the savoury food andthe plentiful wine. 

At the end of the meal he examined the room. "On my word, my girl, they have given you the royal suite: that must come pretty expensive. "

"M. Darbois, " said Jean Perliez, "gave me a very liberal sum of money, with instructions to spare nothing for our little queen. "

"There you have it, if that is not the exaggeration of a lover! LittleQueen! You are pouring poison in continuous doses into this littlehead, which is already full of nonsense. Esperance will end by takingherself seriously; she is already far too dictatorial for a child ofseventeen. " He added to himself, "She must be corrected, I will do itmyself!"

Esperance raised her eyelids, and her clear blue eyes seemed to piercethe eyeballs of the foolish blunderer, until he fluttered his lashesand closed his eyes to escape the powerful silent denial of hisauthority. 

"Very well, " he said, succeeding in half opening his eyes, "look at meas much as you like, that does not keep me from distrusting you, mychild. You are nice-looking, you have a pretty voice, you may some daydevelop some talent; but you know, your inexperience is obvious, and Iam very anxious to know how you will pull through to-night. "

"Do not disturb yourself, M. Meydieux, Esperance had a triumph at thelast rehearsal at the Française. " (Mlle. Frahender nodded agreement. )"I believe, " Jean continued, "that she is going to receive a perfectovation this evening. "

"I believe it too, " added the old lady, "and permit me to state, mydear sir, that you judge my young pupil very unfairly. She is just asmodest, just as gentle, as she was a year ago, and those who love hermay be well reassured of that fact. Since you are among them, " shewent on boldly, "you should realize it and rejoice in it. "

Adhemar shrugged his shoulders. "They are all mad, even the oldsaint!"

They left the table. He stopped before a basket of flowers. "Who sentyou those, my child?"

"Count Albert Styvens, " replied Jean. 

"Ah! He does things well, " commented Adhemar, but he did not breathe aword concerning his conversation with the Count that morning. 

Before there was time for a reply a waiter entered with a card. "M. Mounet-Sully would like to come up. "

"Oh! yes, " cried out the young artist with delight. 

A little startled at finding five people in the room, Mounet-Sullyregained his assurance as he recognized Jean and Maurice. 

"My dear child, we rehearse at two-thirty, " he said to Esperance, "sobe prompt, because we have heard that the Queen will be there, thoughyou may not see her. She is not well enough to come out in theevening. "

The young girl blushed with excitement. "It is fortunate that I shallnot see her, I think that I should be paralyzed!"

"Perhaps she will send for you after the rehearsal, " returned thetragedian. "She is a patroness of art, and very kind to artists. "

"Will His Majesty, King Leopold, come this evening?" demandedMeydieux, with great interest. 

"Certainly, " Mounet-Sully assured him. 

Then, as he was about to go, he turned, "Have you received yourinvitation for. .. ?"

The door opened. Count Albert, being introduced by the _maîtred'hôtel_, had heard the last words. 

"I am just delivering it myself, " he said, handing Mlle. Frahender acard which she read to Esperance--"His Excellence, the Count deBernecourt, Minister of Belgium to France, and the Princess, hope thatMlle. Frahender and Mlle. Esperance Darbois will join them for supperafter the play, at midnight, at their house. "

"But I cannot accept without the permission of my father, " saidEsperance. 

The raucous and heavy voice of the godfather pronounced, "I willassume the responsibility. Your mother encouraged me to watch overyou. I consider that this is an honour which you should not decline. "

"Especially as His Majesty the King will have you presented, " repliedthe Count. 

"Nevertheless, " said Esperance, "I want my father's approval. I willgo down and telephone to Paris. "

"I will accompany you, " said the diplomat quickly. 

She stopped short, and her expression implied distress. Jean wentforward at once. "I will go and secure the connection for you, " hesaid; "I will wait for you downstairs. "

The Count made a scarcely perceptible gesture, as if to stop him; buthe restrained himself and followed the girl in silence out of theroom. He rang, the lift stopped before them, empty. Albert Styvenswent forward, but Esperance drew back, and then she said, quickly, "Iwill go down by the stairs. "

And light as a breath, she was gone. 

Alone in the lift, the young Count felt for a moment abashed, but hespeedily recovered himself, and when Esperance reached the bottom ofthe stairs she found him waiting for her. 

As she leaped down the last step, she again felt herself lifted anddeposited upon her feet. 

"What are you doing?" she cried angrily, startled and offended. 

The rapid half-embrace had been almost brutal. Esperance could stillfeel on her delicate skin the pressure of the man's strong fingers. 

He apologized, and was sincerely repentant. He had acted withoutreflection; he had forgotten his great strength which had this timeserved him ill. He was violently attracted by this charming littlecreature, with whom he admitted to himself that he was deeply in love;he, who up to this time had always avoided women as if he feared them. 

The telephonic communication was lengthy. François Darbois gave hisconsent to his daughter to attend the supper. Madame Darbois wasdistracted, and must find out what dress Esperance would wear. 

"I will keep on my costume from the last act of _Hernani_, " sheanswered, and after a gentle farewell, Esperance hastened to thetheatre for the rehearsal. 

The Director of the Monnaie announced that Her Majesty had come andthat they could begin. Hugo's masterpiece was magnificently presented. The greatest artists filled even minor rôles. Mounet-Sully surpassedhimself, and Esperance drew cries of admiration from that select butcritical audience. 

Count Albert was seated in the orchestra stalls with his mother. TheCountess Styvens, widowed after five years, had bestowed upon her sonall the affection she had cherished for her husband. She had neverleft him, but had had him educated under her own supervision, givinghim at the age of nine, as tutor, a Jesuit who was one of the mostaustere, if also one of the most learned, of the Order. The young manwas a perfect pupil, studious, ever disdaining the pleasures of hisage. His childhood passed in the grey and pious atmosphere in whichhis mother steeped herself. His youth developed under the rule of hispreceptor, a pale youth, without laughter, without aspirations. Thephysicians had never been able to persuade the Countess to let her sonhave the joy of travel of sea and mountain, so he had to be satisfiedwith the physical exercises she permitted. So he gave himself up togymnastics with enthusiasm, expending his youthful vigour against hisdrill professor, and the Japanese who taught him jiu-jitsu. The boy'sstrength became quite remarkable. But his pale face, disproportionatelylong arms, and reputation for austerity, had made him the mark, fromthe very first days of his diplomatic career, for the gossips, balladmakers, and authors of questionable cabaret skits. 

The day he heard that he was serving as Turk's head in a Brusselsmusic-hall, he went instantly behind the scenes of the theatre anddemanded to see the Director, who was in conversation with the authorof the piece. He went right up to them. "I, " he said, raising his hatpolitely, "am Count Albert Styvens. I shall be very glad to have yousuppress the scene, which, I understand, is intended to caricatureme. "

The Manager, a prosperous brewer, who had become proprietor of atheatre for the pleasure of producing revues, which if not witty werecertainly vulgar, shrugged his heavy shoulders. 

"You expect me to lose money! That act is one of the best we havegot. "

"And you, sir?" Albert turned on the author, a man of doubtfulreputation, always on the alert for any occasion of scandal in others. 

"Oh! of course I am sorry to offend you, but I can't take off thepiece. "

The last word was not out of his mouth when the Count grabbed both ofthem by the napes of their necks and knocked their heads together tillthe blood spurted from their surprised faces. Their cries were heardeven by the audience. Reporters came running to witness this unbilledspectacle. The stage hands tried to free the Manager, but desistedwhen one received a terrible smash from the Count's fist, and anothera kick that sent him through space. When the two men were reduced torags, Albert held them upright and addressed them:

"I am going into the hall to see the show. I advise you to withdrawthe scene we spoke of and to which I object. "

Then he quietly re-arranged his clothes and went into the auditoriumwhere the audience were very noisy and laughing at the news thejournalists had reported. Count Albert was one of the best knownfigures about Brussels, where his father had played a very importantpart in the foreign affairs of the country, and enjoyed, for more thantwenty years, the confidence of King Leopold. When he died his wifewas still a young and very beautiful woman, and his great fortune hadmade the only heir of the family already famous. The Count wasastonished at the clamorous ovation that received him. He would haveliked to impose silence on the people, but he was a poor orator, andvery timid; he kept silence and wont to his seat. He was popular fromthat day, and greatly respected. 

At the Monnaie, as soon as the rehearsal was over, the Queen sent forEsperance and Mounet-Sully. The Queen assured the tragedian of theadmiration that she had long felt for him, for Mounet-Sully playedalmost every year in Brussels; but all her kindly enthusiasm wasdirected towards Esperance. 

"What a perfectly delicious voice!" she said. "How old are you?"

"Seventeen, Madame. "

The Queen undid a bracelet from her arm. 

"Accept this modest souvenir of your first appearance in our city, Mademoiselle. "

The young girl trembled with emotion. After she had kissed the royalhand, she tried to clasp upon her wrist the jewel she had justreceived. The Countess Styvens, who had just approached, helped hergently. 

"My mother admired you very much, " said the Count, joining them. 

Esperance raised her eyes and looked at the mother of the young man. She was dressed in mauve; her temples, prematurely grey, accentuatedthe delicacy of her complexion. Her whole person breathed constantgoodness, sacrifice without regret. The young artist loved at sightthis woman she was beholding for the first time, and at the same timeshe had a presentiment that this charming and elegant lady would notremain a stranger to her during her life. 

The Queen desired Count Styvens to accompany the young girl, who wasforced to take his arm to her dressing-room. She walked quickly, in ahurry to rid herself of her strange cavalier, who pretended to beoblivious of her nervous haste. Esperance requested him to convey tothe Countess, his mother, her gratitude for her kindness. AlbertStyvens bowed without speaking, and left her in a glow of delight. 

At the hotel there was no topic except the rehearsal and the receptionthe Queen had given Esperance. The godfather examined the bracelet setwith sapphires and diamonds. He put on his glasses, counted thestones, shook his head and grunted, "It is a superb bracelet, do yourealize that, child?"

"I realize that it is superb because it is a testimony of good willoffered by this kind Sovereign. That is what makes it so valuable tome. "

"What a haughty child!"

And Adhemar began to laugh, the laugh with which realism strives todestroy dreams. Mlle. Frahender gently removed the bracelet from thehands of the objectionable old meddler. 

"You must rest and avoid excitement, dear, dear child, " she said, leading Esperance to her room, after bowing to Adhemar. Maurice andJean, who had witnessed the godfather's want of tact, reasoned withhim. 

"In my opinion, M. Meydieux, you annoy my cousin too much, and for noreason. You forget that she has created for herself a position beyondher years, and you treat her like a child not out of the school-room. "

"Well, isn't it all for her good?" screamed out Adhemar in a fury. "The rest of you burn incense before her; she will be destroyed bypride and that will be your fault!"

"No such thing, " returned Maurice with equal energy. "She is adorablein her simplicity and has remained as really childlike, as trustingand light-hearted as anyone in the world. You cast a gloom on herspirits, you try to curb her spontaneity, you want her bourgeoisielike yourself, but you will never succeed, I give you my word for it, and that is a blessing. "

"Oh!" retorted Adhemar, stung to the quick, "What do you mean by that, you fine painter fellow? You are glad enough to have these bourgeoisiethat you scorn pay for your pictures!"

"If I make pictures and anybody buys them, that is proof enough thatthey are idiots. But my hatred of the bourgeoisie only extends to thecategory to which you belong; those who, ever since they were born, have found their food ready under their noses; those who, never usingtheir ten fingers, never using their brains, live only to increaseinherited incomes; hearts locked by greed, narrow minds unwilling tohear the just claims of the humble, of those who work and suffer forthem; enemies of progress, enemies of their country. "

"Oh! oh! oh!" screamed Meydieux. 

"Yes, refusing to perform the sole function the State expects ofthem. "

"And that is?"

"To become a husband, a father, a parent. "

"You are insolent! It is not worth my while to reply to you. You maytell my goddaughter. .. . "

The door opened, and Esperance, who had been kept awake by the noiseof their voices, appeared to know what was the matter!

"Ah! there you are. I will say good-bye! Your cavaliers annoy me. "

He threw a furious glance towards Jean, who had not spoken a word. Itis a fact that the majority of people cherish more rancour against thewitness of an insult than against the insulter himself. 

"I will not be present at your triumph--as they call it. I am going toyour father and shall tell him everything. "

"My father, godfather, knows that I always tell the truth; he willawait my return to judge my actions and those of my dear comrades. "

Adhemar pulled on his hat and stormed out of the room, swelling withwounded dignity. 

Esperance blew a kiss to the two young men. 

"Now I am going to sleep until dinner time. I have just three-quartersof an hour. Do not forget, my loyal attendants, that we dine atsix-thirty, " she added with a sweeping courtesy, and disappeared, light of heart at the departure of her godfather. 

CHAPTER X

The performance was an unparalleled triumph for the players and little"_Dona Sol_" received the most flattering part of the success. The King, knowing that the Queen had already favoured this delightfulchild, would not be outdone in generosity, and sent to the dressing-roomof the new star a very beautiful ring, set with a magnificent pearl andtwo diamonds. Esperance, who had never had any jewellery except a goldchain that her mother's aunt had left her and the little ring her fatherhad given her for her first communion, found herself, in one day, possessor of two ornaments which the most fastidious worldling wouldnot have disdained. She put the ring immediately on her first finger, since it was a little loose for the ring finger, and looked at herselfin the glass, arranging a lock of hair with the ringed hand, raising aneyebrow and laughing delightedly to see the effect produced by the ring. Count Albert watched her from the neighbouring room where he was waiting. His face was of a livid pallor. His heart beat so fast that he felt weak, and was forced to sit down. He was out of his senses. All the frenzy ofyouth, repressed so long, mounted in a wave to his brain. 

Marguerite, coming to dress her mistress, announced that the gentlemenwere waiting. She quickly threw on a cloak, saying, "I am ready. "

Mounet-Sully and Count Albert entered together. The Count offered hisarm to the old Mademoiselle, and Esperance, free of the contact thatdisturbed her, joyfully accepted the tragedian's assistance. 

The supper was charming, and proved to the young girl that the feastsof artists and men of the world do not end in the orgies described bythe odious godfather. The young girl was at the right of the Princewith Mounet-Sully opposite, at the right of the Princess. None of theguests could help noticing the Count's agitation. The Military Aide, representing King Leopold, Baron von Berger, was an old friend of theStyvens's family. He was uneasy, and when he saw the young Countpreparing to take the ladies home, "No, no, my boy, " he said to him ina low tone, "You are not yourself--you are distraught. I am afraidthat you have been hard hit. "

"You are not mistaken, " replied the young man, "I burn like a devil, and at the same time I am as happy as a god. "

"Well, now I am going to escort these ladies, and to-morrow I willhave a talk with you. "

Esperance slept badly and woke late. The old Mademoiselle was sittingbeside her, spectacles across her nose, reading the papers. Her kindface was beaming. She was cutting out and putting aside certainarticles, then she pinned them in order, all ready to send to M. AndMadame Darbois. 

The young girl was touched, and raising herself in bed, flung her armsabout the old lady. 

"What a dear you are, and how I love you!"

Mlle. Frahender at that moment had her reward for all the littlesacrifices she had made for her pupil. 

The critics were dithyrambic in their discourses concerning the new"Dona Sol, " but the casual reporters were, as always, indiscreet, anddisguised the truth under little prevarications, fantastic andsuggestive. After having read two or three of the articles, Esperancepushed them all aside. She took the name of all the critics, and wrotethem little notes of thanks, while Mlle. Frahender added theaddresses. In the neighbouring room a discussion was going on betweenher knight-attendants. Esperance did not gather its cause, althoughcertain phrases were audible. 

"No, I tell you, " Maurice was saying, "if it is worth while at all, Imust be the one. "

"I could always demand a correction, " replied Jean. 

"Correction of what? It is simply one of those ambiguous phrases whichare used every day. Why notice it?"

The sound of Esperance's voice cut short their discussion. 

"What are you talking about?" she called out. 

"Nothing at all, " returned Maurice, "that is, only stupid things youwould not understand. "

"That is not a very gallant morning greeting, cousin, but you have notforgotten your promise to lake me to the Museum this morning, I hope. "

"Yes, my dear, we will go to the Museum in a very little while. "

She heard the door close. 

"Are you still there, Jean?" she called. 

"And at your service, " he replied. 

"There is nothing I need, thank you. I just want to know whatcorrection you were talking about. "

"It is a private affair of Maurice's, " stammered the young actor. 

"I see, thank you. "

After lunch the travellers set out for the Museum. Maurice wassurprised and delighted by the instinct that guided his cousin towardsthe best that was in the pictures. He explained to her in the languageaffected by painters the reason for certain unreal shadows in acertain picture, and the necessity for them, the tact a painter mustuse in managing his light, the difficulty of foreshortening. He toldher the well-known anecdote of Delacroix replying to the professor whoobjected that he had put a full face eye in a profile, "But, my dearmaster, I have tried everything and that is the only eye that gives theprofile its proper value. " And the professor of the great painter-to-be, after several sketches on the transparent paper over his pupil's canvas, said to him, "You are entirely right. Keep that full face eye. "

They left the Museum, animated by different feelings. The more thatMaurice discovered his cousin's noble qualities, the delicacy of herfeelings, the strength of her loyalty, the more he felt of protectiveaffection for this child who was so pure, so free, and who had madeher entry so bravely into the whirlpool where things are generallyturbulent, and most brutal in the brutal side of Parisian life. Theadmiration of his twenty years, for Esperance's alluring beauty, waspurified into a friendship which he felt growing deeper and stronger. As to Jean Perliez, he had become more and more resigned that his loveshould remain forever in the shade, unlimited devotion for all time, all his being offered in sacrifice to the frail idol, who went her waystar-gazing, unsuspecting all the time that she was trampling uponhearts under her foot. 

CHAPTER XI

M. And Madame Darbois had received the telegram announcing the returnof their daughter, and were at the station to meet her. Esperance sawthem and would have jumped out before the train had fully slopped. Maurice held her just in time. 

"No foolishness there, little cousin. Your bodyguards must return youintact to your family's four arms. One more moment of patience. What ahurry you are in to be rid of us. "

She held out her little hands to the two young men. "Oh, naughtyMaurice! You know very well that I shall never forget these three dayswe have passed together, when you have been so good to me and taughtme so very much. "

Maurice kissed her boldly; Jean put his lips very respectfully to thewarm, soft little hand. 

The train stopped and the Darbois family were in an instant reunited. Mlle. Frahender declined escort to her convent. François Darboisinstalled her in a landau, and after he had thanked her heartily forher kindness to his daughter, gave the address to the coachman, whodrove away with the old lady holding her inevitable little package onher lap, and steadying her old-fashioned little attaché case on theseat opposite. 

The Darbois family took their places in another carriage. Esperancemust sit between her father and mother, leaning close to them, caressing them endlessly, and dropping her little blonde head on hermother's shoulder. 

"Oh! how long it seems since I have seen you, " she kept repeating. 

She held her father's hand and pressed it against her heart. It seemedto her suddenly as if she had suffered from that absence of threedays, and yet she could not specify at what moment she had wishedherself back with them. She recounted all the little events that hadtaken place during the three eventful days. 

"You know, " she explained to her father, "I am bringing you all thenewspaper articles. Then I have the letter from the President of theCommittee, and the beautiful presents from the King and Queen. "

The carriage stopped at the Boulevard Raspail. The _concierge_came forward. 

"I am sure I hope that Mademoiselle has had a success. "

Esperance looked at her with astonishment, but the woman's husbandcame up with a newspaper in his hand, which he unfolded to display thepicture of Esperance just beneath the headlines. 

"Oh!" she exclaimed, "they will make me odious to the public. Mounet-Sully was so wonderful. Worms so fine in his monologue. .. . "

Sadness overcame her. 

She was still sad when she entered her own room. She touched all thefamiliar little objects, and kissed the feet of the ivory Virgin uponher mantel-piece with great emotion. She thanked her mother with alook when she saw the fresh marguerites in the two enamel vases. Incomparison with the luxury of her apartment at the Grand Hotel inBrussels, the simple surroundings of her own room charmed her anew. She swayed for a moment in her rocking-chair, sat down on her lowstool, knelt upon her bed to straighten the branch of box beneath thesilver crucifix her mother had given her when she was seventeen. 

Marguerite came in with the trunk and luggage. 

"What is that?" asked Esperance, spying a big box fastened with nails. 

"I don't know anything about it, Mademoiselle. They gave it to me atthe hotel saying it was for you. "

The box on being opened displayed a magnificent basket of orchids. Attached by a white ribbon was a card--"Countess Styvens. "

Esperance grew pale; she took the card from her mother's hands, fearing that she might be mistaken. It was indeed the Countess and notthe Count. She breathed again! Marguerite and the maid carried thebasket into the salon; then the young girl went into the library withher mother. The newspaper clippings were spread out on the table, andthe two famous trinkets had been taken from their cases. MadameDarbois clasped and unclasped her hands. 

"Oh! but they are too beautiful, simply too beautiful!" she said. 

And the philosopher, half in indignation, half in indulgence, exclaimed, "My poor child, you can not possibly wear such jewels atyour age!"

"Ah!" said Esperance with disappointment, "I cannot wear them?"

"Why, no, it is out of the question. "

"You will be able to wear them in a play, at the theatre, " said MadameDarbois, but her tone lacked assurance, for she did not know whetherthat would be possible either. 

M. Darbois had turned his attention to the notices, having pushedaside the descriptive paragraphs. He read them and gave them to hiswife. 

"Your godfather came to complain to us of Maurice, of Jean Perliez, and of yourself. You all displeased him; tell us just what happened?"

Esperance recounted the happenings with perfect impartiality, addinghonestly that she had done nothing to try to persuade her godfather toremain. The philosopher smiled. 

"Very well, let us forget all that. We will take up our happy lifeagain, that has been interrupted by your triumphs, " he added sadly. And then, as the women were preparing to leave the library, "Tell me, Esperance, who is the Countess Styvens?"

"A great lady at court, and oh! so charming. "

"Is Count Albert Styvens of the Legation any relation of hers?"

"Yes, father, he is her son. But why do you ask that?"

"Your godfather spoke to me of this young man, who, it seems, wants tocomplete his studies in philosophy. "

The poor little star trembled. She was on the point of confessing allher presentiments, her terrors, to her father. .. . But he had just satdown to his desk and seemed already indifferent to what was going onaround him. She went softly out of the library, following her mother, who was bearing away the newspaper excerpts and the royal jewel cases. 

In the beautiful house which Countess Styvens occupied with her son, an animated discussion was taking place at the same moment betweenBaron von Berger and Count Albert. 

"I advise you, my boy, " the Baron was saying brusquely, "to ask foranother post. You, so sensible, too sensible, for a man of your age, in fact it's a little ridiculous. .. . "

"That has nothing to do with it, " returned the younger man coolly. 

"All very well, but my quasi-paternal duty is to stop you beforecertain danger. You admit that you adore this young star of seventeen, the daughter of a philosopher of high standing. You do not intend, Isuppose, to make her your mistress?"

Albert Styvens felt the blood run into his temples, but he did notanswer. 

The Baron continued, more determinedly, "You do not intend to proposeher as a daughter-in-law to your mother?"

For an instant a vertigo froze the young man's being. His heartstopped beating, his throat contracted with a terrific pressure ofblood. He did not answer a word. 

"In God's name, " cried the Baron violently, "am I in the presence of awoman or a man?"

"A man, " said Count Albert, getting to his feet. "A man whose anger isheld in check by his respect, but who can endure no more, " he added, throwing back his arms to allow his chest to dilate still farther. "Iam going to answer you; please listen without interruption. "

Then, after a moment more of silence, he declared, "Yes, I amdesperately in love with this young girl, and I am going to tryeverything, not to make her love me, for that she probably neverwill--but that she will let herself be loved. What will come of it, Ihave not the least idea. I want her and no one else. I will commitno disloyal act, I give you my word for that. If she should become mywife, it would be with my mother's full permission. I beg you now, mydear Baron, to say nothing further about it; I am old enough toregulate my life, as much as the divine guiding force which you call'Destiny' permits. "

He came up to the Baron, clasped his hand in a firm grasp, andreaching for his hat, added, "I want to get out in the air. Shall wego together?"

The Baron recognized the opposition of an unchangeable will to hisown, which no discussion could influence. 

CHAPTER XII

Life had resumed its regular course in the apartment on the BoulevardRaspail, but an important relationship was developing in Esperance'slife. Count Albert Styvens came three times a week to pursue hisphilosophic studies with Professor Darbois. This arrangement had beencontrived by the hypocrite, Adhemar Meydieux. He did not mistake theCount's infatuation for his goddaughter. A marriage of such wealth andaristocratic connections flattered his foolish egoism, and he wassworn to attempt everything that would bring about such a magnificentconsummation. 

A friend of the family, Doctor Bertaud, noticed alarming symptoms inthe girl, most prevalent between five and seven o'clock each evening. He could not ascertain the cause, but persuaded the philosopher totake her to Doctor Potain, a celebrated heart specialist. MadameDarbois took Esperance for an examination. 

François was perfectly amazed by the deep culture of the Count, who atfirst sight seemed of only average intelligence. When the familygathered together for dinner, he commented on his impressions to hiswife and daughter. 

"This young man is a very remarkable personality, " he said, "verydifficult to penetrate, yet nevertheless very sincere. I do notbelieve that the slightest untruth has ever crossed his lips. I enjoyworking with him. Ah! that reminds me, I have invited him to dine withus on Thursday. He is very anxious to be presented to you, andEsperance already knows him, so I thought you would find itagreeable. "

The young girl trembled. Her blood seemed to stop in her veins. Herhand pressed against her heart felt no movement there. Her father, noticing the change in her, exclaimed, "Bertaud is quite right, youare sometimes abnormally pale; do you feel ill?"

"No, father, it is nothing; I felt dizzy for a moment. "

"All the same we must hurry Bertaud with his examination. "

Back in her own room the young girl began to weep. "I shall neverescape that man, never, never. "

Her eyes invoked the Virgin of ivory. Her two arms extended, imploredher, but it seemed to Esperance that they were opened also to whateverdiscouragement Destiny might have in store. She fell asleep in herchair, worn out by self-hypnosis on the holy image. 

A horrible nightmare unfolded in her brain. She found herself on agreat map of the world, with a voice calling to her, "Why are youfrozen there, why don't you move? You are free as the air of thisgreat globe. " Then she began to walk, but at once she saw the earthopen and long tentacles, like arms, emerge to clutch her. She recoiledquickly and started in another direction but the same phenomenonoccurred again. After that she determined to climb on to a great plainthat she saw ahead. She thought she was safe when all at once she sawarising on every side the frightful tentacles which crept along herhiding-place, viscous and black, nearer, near enough to touch her. Anindescribable terror brought her to her feet with a cry for help!Mile. Frahender and Marguerite came running in. They found her paleand bathed in perspiration. Her lips were trembling, stammering. Itwas five minutes before she recovered herself. She described herdream, and the old Mademoiselle prescribed a little walk in the air. The child followed her chaperon with nervous docility. 

It was the day after the next when Albert Styvens was to come todinner. Esperance had thought of saying that she was ill, but herheart misgave her at the thought of the anxiety she would occasion hermother, and then . .. And then . .. The dinner would be postponed, and"This man will have what he will have, and I am the prey of hisdream, " she said with a sigh of resignation. 

The dinner was arranged for seven-thirty. The young Count presentedhimself at seven-fifteen, having been preceded by two great bunches offlowers, for Madame Darbois and Esperance, who was at the piano whenhe came into the room. The Count entered with Madame Darbois, whom herhusband had just presented to her, and they stopped silent to listento Mendelssohn's beautiful nocturne, "Song of a Summer Night. " Whenthe last echoes of the last phrase had died away, discreet applausewas wafted to her. She swung quickly on her stool and found herselfbefore the young man who was bowing, and taking the hand she held outto him. She had not yet overcome that terror he inspired in her, andwas surprised to find him so much at ease. After dinner they talked ofmusic, and Esperance, praising a magnificent duet of Liszt, from thesymphony of Orpheus, was overcome when the young man rose, took herhand and led her towards the piano. 

"Come, let us try to play it together. " He looked towards FrançoisDarbois and received his nod of acquiescence from the depths of thearm-chair where the professor sat clasping his long, fine hands. 

The Count was intoxicated by the light perfume of Esperance's bodythere so near him that he seemed almost to touch her. His strong handsrose and fell beside her delicate fingers, making the young girl thinkof a great hawk fluttering over white pigeons, at the farm of Penhouetin Brittany, where for years she had spent her holidays. The fragmentwas executed brilliantly, for these two persons, united in theirenthusiasm for art, although so different in personal reactions, gavethe two auditors of this musical treat a magnificent interpretation ofLiszt's genius. François Darbois and his wife, both distinguished intheir appreciation of the beautiful, could not sufficiently thank theCount, dividing his praises with congratulations to their daughter. 

"You surpassed yourself, my dear, " said the philosopher, "but then Iadmit that you have never before had such a partner. It was reallyremarkable. "

When the young man had left, Esperance excused herself, saying thatshe was tired. She kissed her parents tenderly, although for the firsttime she felt an unjust and unfounded resentment against them. She wasaggrieved that they should see nothing of Count Styvens's manoeuvres. 

The maid, helping her to undress, exclaimed, "How grand it was thisevening, Mademoiselle, and what a fine young gentleman!"

Esperance shrugged her shoulders disdainfully. Marguerite, coming into see that the young mistress whom she adored wanted nothing, couldnot help saying, "Ah! Mademoiselle, what talent he has, that youngCount! How well you two did look, your backs, sitting side by side! Ijust said to myself. .. . "

Esperance shivered, guessing what was coming, and interrupted the goodwoman quickly, "Don't talk to me Marguerite, to-night. I am tired andI must go to sleep. "

But she did not sleep. 

CHAPTER XIII

The last presentation of Sardou's play was a veritable ovation forEsperance. Flowers were presented to her on the stage. Two basketsattracted special attention, one overflowing with white orchids; theother, with gardenias, so powerful in their sweetness that even thefirst rows of the orchestra felt their strength. It was rumoured inthe boxes that the white orchids were sent by the Countess Styvens andher son Albert, who were sitting in a stall in the auditorium. As tothe gardenias, the card attached to the green ribbons of the basketrevealed the name of the most elegant clubman of Paris, the DukeCharles de Morlay-La-Branche. He was a handsome man of thirty-two, very wealthy, adored by women, popular with men. A ripple ran throughthe audience. 

"You know the Duke, they say that he is very much taken. .. . "

"They know each other?"

"No, he has never been presented. "

"No, look out for the love of the immaculate Albert, " said mockingly abeautiful woman with bold eyes, glancing toward the stall occupied byAlbert and his mother; but her eyes widened at seeing the Duke enterto present his compliments to the Countess Styvens. A few minuteslater he was seen to go out with Count Albert. He was going to bepresented to the young artist. 

Count Styvens's love was known to all Paris, as was also the respectwith which he surrounded his idol. It was also known that the younggirl did not return this love; likewise that the son of the chemistPerliez was devoting his life to Esperance. But what would be the endof these two gallants, both so timid, so full of silent ardour? Butnow had entered upon the scene a rival possessed of beauty, ofconfidence, one who had toyed lightly with women's hearts, until hehad wearied of the facile love his physical charm and wit attracted. 

"That should be good sport to watch, " said an old beau. "I am bettingon the Duke. "

A newly married bride turned towards him, "I am betting on the younggirl. "

A journalist, thin, blonde, very young, just beginning his career, hadfollowed the Duke and the Count behind the scenes. He accompanied theminto Esperance's little room and described what happened us follows:--

"She was holding the two cards, there in the midst of the overpoweringodour of gardenias. She blushed when she heard the name of the Duke, Albert Styvens was presenting to her. She thanked them both veryprettily, but without showing any preference for either. The Dukebegan complimentary speeches without making any impression. When theytook leave, he wanted to kiss Esperance's hand, but she withdrew itlooking very much surprised. This rather confused the Duke. As soon asthese gentlemen departed I was presented, and her manner was just ascharming. Jean Perliez came in just then to tell her that the curtainwould go up in three minutes. He brought her a bunch of Parma violets, and she took them from him and put them in her girdle; you will seeher wearing them on the stage. Perliez is desperately in love withher, and he grew very pale. He went out without a word. I think hemust have gone to cry out his emotion in a corner. That is all, "concluded the rising journalist. 

He repeated his story twenty times, and by next morning all Paris knewthat the Duke de Morlay-La-Branche had been received by Esperance likeany other gentleman, that Count Albert Styvens had been noncommittal, and that Jean Perliez had been overcome. The young journalist wrote avery suggestive article concerning this little scene, highlyornamented with phrases that would attract attention; butunfortunately the editor refused to print it. The Duke did not carefor notoriety, and was, moreover, a renowned fencer, so the editorexercised his discretion. Count Styvens belonged to the foreigndiplomacy and was very particular, and no one had infringed on hisprivacy since the little affair in the Brussels music hall. That leftonly Jean Perliez, who was merely sincere and pathetic; the public didnot want to read that kind of thing! So much for the littlejournalist. 

Countess Styvens was spending a month in Paris, staying at theLegation with the Princess de Bernecourt, who always had a suite readyfor her. There was to be a grand opening ceremony of the Opera season, and for many years the Styvens had never missed the first nights ofthe Opera or the Comedie-Française. 

One evening at dinner the conversation turned upon music, and a guestregretted the mechanical performance of the musical prodigies at theConservatoire. 

"It gives them a certain amount of cleverness, or technique, orwhatever you like to call it, but there is no flair of the ideal, andoften no important personality. "

"I know a young artist, " said Albert Styvens, "who plays with herwhole soul, and I, who really love music, find her far ahead of allyour prodigies. "

Almost a sensation was produced among the guests. 

The Countess said with her sweet smile, "I see that they tease youhere as well as at Brussels. "

"That does not affect me, mother, you see; I remain faithful to myideal. "

"Never mind, tell us the name of this new discovery. "

"Her name is Esperance Darbois, " said Albert rising, resting his twohands on the table. Then, having produced his effect, he sat downagain. 

"What! she is a good musician too?"

"Excellent, " replied Albert, "and I will wager that whoever hears herwill agree with me. 

"How is it possible to hear her? She does not play at the concerts. But tell us how did you contrive to hear her?" demanded the Princess. 

"I study with her father, François Darbois, so I have become a friendof the family. They asked me to dinner once, and I was early enough tohear Mlle. Esperance play. After dinner we played a very difficultduet together. She had absolute command of her execution and heremotion. "

A young attaché murmured to an amiable dowager, "I am afraid that theyhave completely taken him in. "

Count Albert sprang to his feet. 

"I am not willing that you should try to belittle this family whom youdo not know. François Darbois, the philosopher, is a fine character, of unparalleled honour and integrity: his wife has never frequentedthe world where people are 'taken in, ' as you say, and as for Mlle. Esperance . .. So much the better if you do not know her?"

The Duke de Morlay-La-Branche, sitting beside the Princess, said toher, loud enough for all to hear, "Albert Styvens is entirely right:they are people of a very different order. They are a very refreshingtrio for Parisian society. "

Everyone kept quiet and listened to what the Duke had to say. It waswell known that he was attracted by Esperance's beauty and talent, andit was also known that he was a sceptic, a railer, not easy for anyoneto "take in. " The attaché, not knowing how to back out of his awkwardposition, apologized for having spoken in jest. He had heard . .. Butthe world is so unjust . .. Etc. , etc. No one listened. 

"For my part, " said the Princess, "I see only one way to put to theproof the statements of the Duke de Morlay-La-Branche and CountAlbert, and that is to ask the Darbois family to dinner. Afterwards, Albert must undertake to persuade this adorable little comedian toreveal her ability as a musician. "

The Minister was most agreeable and said, "All our guests this eveningmust be present at the dinner. "

Albert Styvens was consumed with joy. And the Duke did not attempt toconceal his satisfaction. 

The only difficulty was to find a suitable excuse for inviting theDarbois. Chance proved itself the Count's accomplice. In conversationwith the professor the next day the Count was told that there would beno lesson on the following Tuesday, because the professor was todeliver an address on the question of the hour--"Can philosophy andreligion evolve without danger in the same mind?" The conference wasto be held at the home of Madame Lamarre, the wife of a fashionablepainter. Albert knew that his mother was a great friend of this lady. He told the Countess and the Princess, and it was agreed that theyshould both go to this conference. When the Professor was presented itwould be easy for the Princess to say that Countess Styvens wasanxious to meet again her little friend of Brussels, then theinvitation could easily follow. Everything happened according to theCount's plans. 

François Darbois had a great success; the Catholic party owed himrecognition for his noble dissertation on the rôle of philosophy inreligion. He was a fervent follower of the author of "The Genius ofChristianity. "

The Princess de Bernecourt presented sincere compliments to theaffable philosopher. The Countess Styvens presented herself to MadameDarbois, who thanked her for her special kindness to Esperance, whoregretted that she had not herself been able to thank hersufficiently. 

"Now won't you, " said the charming Princess, "do us the honour to cometo dinner at the Legation next week? That will give the Countess andmyself a chance to renew our acquaintance with your adorabledaughter. "

François, being appealed to, accepted the invitation for the followingTuesday. 

"My husband will be delighted, dear M. Darbois, to meet you; he is oneof your most faithful readers, " said the Princess. 

On their return the Darbois found Esperance very anxious to learn theresult of the conference. François said very simply as he kissed hisdaughter, "You would have been satisfied. .. . "

But Madame Darbois, made loquacious by her husband's success, recounted everything at length and the triumph obtained by her husbandin every detail. 

The invitation to dine at the Belgian Minister's rather dismayed, intruth distressed, Esperance. Her joy in her father's success wasdiminished by this prospect. Count Styvens was certainly not unawareof this unexpected invitation. 

"You are quite right, little daughter, " went on Madame Darbois, "themother of the young Count is perfectly delightful. She is especiallyanxious to see you again. "

Esperance breathed deeply, as if to draw more strength from within. She knew her parents were flattered at the idea that the attentions ofthe young Count could only end in an offer of marriage. They were notignorant that she did not love him, but they hoped that she would intime be touched by his respectful affection. The philosopher and hiswife had often talked of this prospect with each other. They did notwant to cause any pain to their cherished daughter. M. Darbois hadalready had to give up all idea of Jean Perliez, for he had begged himnot to speak of him to Esperance. She was his goddess; he adored herbut felt unworthy of her. With resignation François charged his wifeto find out Esperance's state of mind, but these were futile efforts. Madame Darbois could never approach the burning question; she hoveredround it with such uncertainty that Esperance never for an instantsuspected her mother's real motive in the long talks they hadtogether. 

CHAPTER XIV

A radiant sun woke Esperance on the following Tuesday. Her thoughts, always on the future, refused to be subjugated by the confused anguishshe felt which almost stifled her. Yet this evening was sure to be oneof importance in her young life! Had the Count said anything to hermother? She rejected the idea that he could think of her as capable ofbecoming his mistress. .. . Then, his wife? She would not give up thetheatre. .. . "No, nothing in the world could make up for that, farrather death. " And she smiled at the idea that she might perhapsbecome a victim of the great art. She saw herself struggling againstall hardships and dying as an adored victim of circumstances, regretted and wept by the many who loved her. 

Her imaginative speculations were rudely interrupted by Margueritebringing in her chocolate. On the tray was a card with a littlepresent for the evening. Esperance read the card, and taking thebouquet looked at it for a long time until tears veiled her prettyeyes. 

"Poor fellow, " she said, "I did not think of his side of it. "

For the first time Esperance absented herself from the Conservatoirevoluntarily. She had so much to do! She wanted to look beautiful, "perfectly beautiful, " she confided to Mlle. Frahender. 

"I feel that something great is in store for me in the early comingdays. "

She took particular pains with her toilette, and looking at herself inthe tall glass of her wardrobe, reflected, "I do not want to loveCount Styvens. Then I ought not to want to be any more attractiveto-night than usual. Am I a wicked girl? My cousin Maurice says, 'Coquetry is the cowardly woman's weapon, and I love you, littlecousin, because you are not a coquette. '"

The mirror showed a lovely girl gowned in pale blue. The shoulders, slender and rounded, seemed to emerge from clear water made heavenblue by the reflection of the sky. The hair, so blonde it dazzled, made a radiant frame for the lovely face. The red mouth, half open, the white teeth, the wilful little chin, lightly cleft by an oblongdimple, made this delightful little maiden one of the most dangerousweapons that love ever fashioned. 

When François and his family were announced in the salon of thePrincess, the Minister hastened forward to convey Madame Darbois to aseat, after presenting her to the Dowager Duchess de Castel-Montjoie, Mlle. Jeanne Tordeine, of the Theatre-Française, and several otherguests. 

Esperance's entrance roused the curiosity of all. The Duke deMorlay-La-Branche, after conversing for a few minutes to FrançoisDarbois, whom he had met several weeks before, came up to the younggirl as she was standing before the Countess Styvens, replying tothe compliments the charming lady was paying her. 

"I am told that you are quite a clever musician. " Esperance looked upto reproach the Count for his indiscretion in speaking about herplaying, but her eyes met the ardent gaze of the Duke. She wasagitated, thinking, "How handsome he is, and I had never noticed it. "

"Yes indeed, Mademoiselle, " he continued in his easy, agreeablemanner, "we hear that you have captivated Count Styvens with yourplaying, and as perhaps you know he is recognized as being quite adilettante authority. "

Esperance strived to speak, but nervousness prevented her. She satdown quickly beside the Countess, and crept close to her. A completelynew sensation seemed to invade her whole being. She had a strangefeeling of uncertain joy tinged with pain and yet she loved thissensation that troubled her, this half-fright which gave her a slightshiver. The Duke brought up a chair and seemed to be exerting all hischarm and animation for the Countess, but it was easy to see that allthis charm, all this wit, were intended for the pretty creature whoappeared powerless to resist his fascinating personality. 

When dinner was announced the Duke offered his arm to the Countess, the Minister his to Madame Darbois, the Princess took the arm of thephilosopher. While Esperance, naturally accepted the arm of CountAlbert. She looked at him more attentively than she had ever donebefore, and involuntarily made a comparison between him and the Dukenot altogether to his advantage. 

"How easy and graceful the Duke is, " she thought. "How heavy this man, and dull and slow. The Duke's face is at once kindly and spirited, theCount's brooding and awkward. The Duke is a man, the Count but ashadow. "

At the same instant the Count's arm pressed her delicate wrist. Shehad again to restrain the repugnance she had felt before, and herterrible nightmare came back to her. She let herself fall rather thansit in the chair to which Albert Styvens had conducted her. Here shefound herself between the Count and the young Baron de Montrieux, whoattempted, with the most charming courtesy to forestall her every wantand monopolize all her attention. The Baron was overflowing with witand Esperance listened with delight. 

After dinner the Baron de Montrieux went to the piano. He was a veryfair musician, and all the company were glad to listen to him. Albertfollowed him. He was really gifted and, if fortune had not otherwisefavoured him, he could have made his name as an artist. 

There was enthusiastic applause. The Count bent before Esperance, who, in a burst of artistic appreciation, expressed her admiration. 

"Then, " he replied, uplifted with joy to feel that he had reallytouched her, "shall we play our duet from Orpheus, Liszt's symphonicpoem, to these good friends who are, I think, quite appreciative. "

"Oh! no, I should be afraid. I dare not. You forget I know so little. I am an actress and I will recite for you if you like, but--"

The Duke came forward, and hearing the conversation joined in witha request that was almost like pleading. Styvens held out hisangular fist to the young girl; the Duke extended a long whitehand; and so both led her to the piano. The Duke's fingers pressedher palm lightly but with a suggestion of encouragement, while theCount's held her like a vice that would never open. In spite of herprotestations, Esperance was installed at the piano, and Esperanceresolved to put all her best into her playing with the hope of beingable to transport her audience into the highest realms of the art thatcan express great aspiration blended with the pathos of suffering. Charles de Morlay-La-Branche withdrew to the rear of the long room, and stood alone, leaning against a beautiful Italian window, to listenand to watch. A conflict of feelings were struggling within him. He wasfighting against the attraction of this slender creature, whose whiteshoulders and delicate body were swaying with a phrase now violent, nowsubdued, her whole person actuated, controlled by the rhythm of themusic. The heavy frame work of Count Styvens seemed an anchor for thefragile idol. The Duke gnawed his lip in suppressed emotional anger. 

As the young couple left their seats the room shook with applause. Everybody was delighted. The Princess took Esperance by both hands, gazing at her, stroking the tapering fingers that were still vibratingwith the fever of the music. Esperance was so pale that the Princessled her into another room and made her sit down, praising hermarvellous execution and striving to quiet the little heart she couldfeel beating with so much agitation. 

"The Doctor who attends me, " Esperance explained in a far-away voice, "has told me, Madame, that I must avoid all excitement if I wish tolive a long time, but that I shall not live naturally if I am overexcited or depressed by emotion. "

They brought her a refreshing and soothing drink. The Princess'sattendant bathed her temples with Eau de Cologne. Esperance breathedmore quietly and rose, thanking the Princess; then suddenly collapsedon her knees, sobbing, without strength, without consciousness, andMadame Darbois was summoned to her side at once. 

"Oh! great Heaven!" she said. "I have never seen her like this before;usually she controls herself when over-excited by music. See, dear, alittle strength, stand up, and we will go home at once. .. . "

But Esperance's head slipped from the mother's support into her arms, while her whole body was shaken by sobs. The Countess Styvens came into find the girl exhausted by a storm of moans and sobs. Theysucceeded in placing her on a large soft couch and she fell asleepholding the Countess's hand, under the impression that it was hermother's. 

In about an hour she awoke, refreshed, unconscious of what hadhappened to her or where she was. Her father and mother were besideher. She got up, and one of the maids came to her. She thenremembered, and asked how long she had been asleep. 

"You see, mama, " she said, "you must not take me out any more, I amnot fit for it. " Then kissing her mother who had never left her, sheexpressed her sorrow for what had happened. 

She thanked the maid and asked her to make her apologies to thePrincess. 

"Would you not like me to call her?"

"No, please do not disturb anyone; I could not bear it. "

In the ante-chamber two men-servants were in attendance. One of themwas helping Madame Darbois, and Esperance, still confused, slipped herarms in the sleeves of her cloak, and then stopped short. Her bare armhad been touched, she was sure of it. 

She turned quickly. Her eyes met the Duke's enquiring but notaltogether pleasant glance. With a quick gesture the girl clasped hermantle about her, and haughtily moved away without acknowledging theDuke's bow. 

Neither M. Nor Madame Darbois had seen anything of what had justpassed. 

The Duke de Morlay's bad humour vented itself against Count Styvens. 

"I have just passed the Darbois in the cloak-room. The little flirtwas in a pitiful state: I helped her on with her cloak and her skinwas like ice. "

Count Styvens turned almost in anger and his hands furtively openedand closed. A feeling of enmity was rising in his generous soul. Hefelt that the Duke had spoken slightingly of Esperance to wound him. Twice, during dinner, he had caught the covetous glance of the Dukefixed on Esperance, and he had suffered acutely in consequence. Helooked at the Duke coldly; his shyness would have made him dumb had itnot been for the sustaining power of his anger. 

"I cannot reply to you now, " he said. "My mother is here. "

The Duke de Morlay-La-Branche, who was, after all, a gentleman, cameup to him. 

"Albert, I am a fool. I beg your pardon. "

And he went to take his leave of the Princess, who had quietlywitnessed and understood the pantomime that had passed between thesetwo men. 

"You did right, my friend, " she said to the Duke. "Albert is a braveand loyal fellow. "

"He is an idiot, " he replied, "whose idiocy we must respect. "

"All the same he has a quality which you and most of the other men ofyour age do not possess, and he is not afraid of being laughed at; andthat gives him enormous moral strength. "

"You find that a virtue, Princess?"

"Indeed I do. He does what he wants without bothering about whatpeople will say. "

"But does he really know what they do say of him?"

"You know that Albert and I have been friends since childhood, " saidthe Princess. "He is twenty-eight, I am thirty, which gives me alittle advantage perhaps, and I talk to him quite as a comrade. It istrue that he has never had any love affairs with women, and they jokehim about it. Albert does not disguise it. 'I shall always be as Iam, ' he says, 'until I really love. '"

"But he is in love now. "

The Princess saw that the Duke enjoyed seeing her hesitation beforeanswering. So she said nothing at all, but held out her hand; which hekissed respectfully and went his way. 

CHAPTER XV

Esperance had returned home quite furious with the manner of the Dukede Morlay-La-Branche, which she considered insolent. She had passed abad night, waking every few moments. She compared the dignified andhonourable affection of the Count with the offensive attitude of theDuke. Her thoughts flew to Madame Styvens as to a refuge. She waspossessed of great tenderness towards this charming woman, whose lifeof purity and goodness won the admiration of all who knew her. On herside there was no doubt that the Countess loved the young girl, butalthough she did not cherish the narrow and false ideas of many of herfriends against the theatre, she would have preferred to haveEsperance give up her career. .. . 

General Van Berger, who always spoke his mind to her, reprimanded herseverely on this point. 

"It is impossible, " he affirmed, "to let things go any further. Albertcannot marry an actress. I realize that the Darbois family is veryrespectable; the young girl seems to me above reproach or criticism, but she must give up this career. The Countess Styvens is not for thepublic eye, and if she loves him. .. . "

"But she does not love him. "

Van Berger was silenced for a moment. "What do you say? She does notlove him. And you approve of such a union?"

"My son loves her so deeply, and knowing him as you do, you can notdoubt the fidelity of his affection. Esperance is touched, flatteredeven, but she does not want to give up her profession; she wouldrather, I believe, remain single, or at any rate only marry a man whowould allow her to continue her artistic life. If I refuse my consentto the question my son will no doubt soon ask me, he will not insist;but will enter a Chartist monastery. He has a friend, a Chartist inFrance, whom he visits often. I shall lose my child forever, and mysad life will end in tears. "

The gentle woman began to weep quietly. Much touched, the Generalrose, twisting his moustache, "Courage, be brave, the assaults havenot yet been launched and you speak as if the battle were lost! Wehave not got so far ahead yet, fortunately. Above all, don't cry, thatis worse than having one's arms and legs broken. I am yours tocommand, you know that, heart and soul at your service; and I do notretreat, not I, whatever comes. .. . Still, dear friend, " he said, sitting down beside her and taking her hand, "we must face the facts. Many of your dearest friends would cease to visit you and your houseif you. .. . "

"What do I care about the superficial friendship of such people, ifthe happiness of my son is at stake! Thank you, dear friend, for yourloyal insistence. I understand it, but I know that even if you do notsucceed in convincing me you will not desert me in my trouble. Thankyou. "

The Baron kissed the noble lady's hand. 

The time of the trial performance at the Conservatoire was drawingnear. Esperance had resumed her usual life, alternately calm andfeverish. She was studying for the Competition. She often wrote toCountess Styvens, who had returned to Brussels, on the subject. Beforeshe left, the Countess had come to see the little invalid, who hadtouched her heart so much that special evening at the Princess's. Shehad also got to know the professor and his wife more intimately. Thefamily attracted her, and she felt a large sympathy for them all. Ofcourse she was fully aware of the love her son had for Esperance andresignedly left events in the hands of God. What did disturb Albert'smother a little was the vehemence Esperance showed in regard to hertheatrical career, and the way she rejected the most guardedremonstrances against her following that calling. 

"No, no, " said Esperance to Countess Styvens, "no, no, no; the theatreis not a house of evil repute, nor are its followers evil doers: thetheatre is a temple where the beautiful is always worshipped; it makesa continuous appeal to the higher senses and natural passions. In thistemple vice is punished, and virtue rewarded; the great socialproblems are presented. In this temple instruction is less abstract, and, therefore, more profitable for the crowd. The apostles of thistemple are full of faith and courage; they have the souls ofmissionaries marching always toward the ideal. "

The trials at the Conservatoire were to take place on the fifteenth ofJuly. Esperance was ambitious and strove for the first prize in bothcomedy and tragedy. The year before the jury had only awarded her twosecondary prizes; not that she had not deserved the first, but that onaccount of her youth they had thought it wiser to keep her back foranother year. The young artist was to compete for tragedy in the firstact of _Phedre_, for comedy in Alfred de Musset's _Barberine_. 

The dawn of the fifteenth was clear and quiet. Genevieve and Jeanarrived at eight-thirty in the morning to rehearse their scenes forthe last time. Jean had in his hand a tiny package. As he was about togive it to Esperance, the maid entered with a large box marked"Lachaume, " Florist, which she gave to Mlle. Frahender. On observingthis, Jean quickly hid his package in his pocket. Esperance had openedthe box and taken out a posy of gardenias, which she slipped into herbelt. Again the maid entered with a similar box containing orchids. Esperance blushed, and then tore the bouquet from her belt so quicklythat she hurt her finger. She had not seen that a card attached to theflowers by a pin read--"Duke de Morlay-La-Branche. " Scornfully, she atonce threw the bouquet aside. Mlle. Frahender spoke to her in Englishto rebuke her for such conduct, whatever its motive. Esperance excusedherself. "Be indulgent to me, little lady, " she said, in her mostwinning way; "I am a little nervous just now. "

She put the white orchids that Count Styvens had just sent to her inher belt. Jean Perliez picked up the discarded bouquet and the card. He was more disturbed by her anger against the Duke than by herpassive acceptance of the young Count's gift. She had talked to himcontinually of the Duke, criticizing him it is true, but Jean felt inthese reproaches that Esperance was more or less practising somedeceit. Esperance had wished to have Jean defend the Duke, heap on himpraise rather than the blame he did. The young artist feltinstinctively that this man--the Duke--would not marry his littlecomrade. 

The three went back to work. When the rehearsal was finished, M. AndMme. Darbois came in gaily to take their breakfast coffee with them. Esperance kissed them tenderly and departed for the struggle on which, perhaps, her career depended. 

A day of competition at the Conservatoire offers the spectators aseries of amusing studies, instructive, puzzling and deceptive also attimes. Ambition, jealousy, vanity border on loyalty, sensibility, andpride. Most of these young people are preparing themselves to begin asharp and bitter struggle for life itself. Others--and these are veryfew--are in search of, if not fame, at least notoriety. They haveelected to enter upon this career, led by enthusiastic hope, theirlove of the beautiful, and unconscious consecration to art; nor willthey cease throughout their lives to spread their propaganda in behalfof all there is that is good. 

When Esperance appeared for the scene of _Phedre_, a flutteringmurmur of approval greeted her, while several little outbursts ofapplause were heard. She was so pretty in her gown of white crepe dechine! Her youthfully cut bodice revealed the slender flexibility ofher neck; she might have been a bust in rose wax modelled by Leonardoda Vinci. She carried all before her by her interesting interpretationof the role. The tragic grief of the daughter of "_Minos_" and"_Pasiphae_" was a revelation for many there from one so young. Tears coursed down Esperance's pretty cheeks. The abandon of hergraceful arms, her renouncement of a struggle against the gods, herlonging for death, her shame after the tale of "_Oenone_, " herradiant vision of the son of "_Theseus_, " all was fully appreciatedby the public, and by a distinguished company of connoisseurs, often strongly critical, but never insensible to real talent as itdeveloped. 

In the competition for comedy the young girl achieved the sametriumph. When the jury proclaimed her first in tragedy, all beingunanimously agreed on the verdict, a storm of applause and admirationgreeted the announcement. Mlle. Frahender wept with pleasure, Genevieve Hardouin, enfolding her little friend in her lovely barearms, kissed her on the hair. Esperance felt more touched by theaffectionate admiration of her comrades, than she had been even by theapplause the day of the first presentation of Victorien Sardou's playat the Vaudeville. In the afternoon she received the same kind ofovation for her competition for the first prize in comedy. When shecame out of the Conservatoire they would have unharnessed hercarriage, but Mlle. Frahender and Jean Perliez absolutely opposed thismanifestation. Genevieve Hardouin had obtained a second prize intragedy and an honourable mention in comedy. Jean, who had onlyentered the competition for tragedy, had a first, shared with twoother comrades. The three young people were radiant, each neglectinghis own fortune to magnify the triumph of the others. 

When Esperance returned to the Boulevard Raspail, she found herparents much elated at her success. Count Styvens, who had beenpresent at the competition, had hurried to tell them the good news andgive them all the details of their daughter's significant triumph. 

"She surpassed herself in _Phedre_, " he had said. "She is, Ithink, the equal to some of the greatest tragedienes, " and when theytold Esperance she said, "Is he still here?" looking towards thesalon. 

"No, he did not wish to weary you. He only left this note:"

"_You were divine in Phedre, delightfully feminine in Barberine. Noone is happier at your phenomenal success than your always devoted, Albert Styvens. _"

Esperance felt a world of gratitude to the young Count for not havingwaited to see her. She went into her room to undress, and in doing sodrew gently from her belt the white orchid. She was about to put it inone of the two vases on the mantel-piece, when her hand paused of itsown accord and remained inert; her gaze had been caught by the Duke deMorlay-La-Branche's gardenias in the other vase. Radiant withfreshness it caught the eye, it invited her to come and smell. Thegirl bent towards its whiteness. The intoxicating perfume held her. Her head drooped nearer and nearer the delicate blossoms. Her liptouched the smooth flesh of the petal. She trembled violently andthrew her head back. It seemed as if a kiss had been given her! Shequivered, closing her eyes, longing for the unpleasant feeling topass. 

After a few moments she looked at the poor orchid which had dropped onthe cold marble mantel-piece. She lifted it up carefully and placed itin some fresh water. 

Then she sat down before the vases where the two rival flowersdisplayed their charms. She was bitterly conscious of being impelledby a new inner force, an almost evil force. And she looked from themantel to the ivory Virgin, whose open hands seemed to be showeringblessings. 

Esperance looked back to the white orchid. 

"If I do not marry that man I am lost, " she thought. 

Almost terrified, she got up and walked about to calm herself, toconquer the instinct which her reason told her was wrong. Still underthe strain of the emotions of the triumphal day, and to escape thedisagreeable thought the sight of the radiant gardenias provoked inher, she began to write a long letter to the Countess Styvens. Thatsoothed her nervousness a little. She poured out all her heart in theletter, for she knew that this woman loved her independently of thelove of her son--loved her entirely for her own self. 

Two days later Esperance received a letter from the Director of theComedie-Française, asking her to call at four o'clock that same day atthe theatre. At the right hour she went with her mother and Mlle. Frahender. Without delay she was at once engaged, for Madame Darboishad the spoken and written authority of her husband to make whatarrangements her daughter should desire. The Director was mostcomplimentary to the young actress and asked what rôle she would careto choose for her debut. Esperance proclaimed her preference for"_Dona Sol_" in _Hernani_ or "_Camille_" in "_On ne badine pasavecl'amour_. "

Her heart was filled with emotion as she was leaving the great houseof which in future she would be a part. The Place du Carrousel, theperspective of the Tuileries, and the Champs Elysées seemed morebeautiful than ever before. The passers-by were charming. Everything, everywhere, spoke only of happiness and hope. 

"Mama, dear mama, I am so happy. "

PART III. THE COUNTRY

CHAPTER XVI

After the recent excitement at the Conservatoire, following thecompetition, Esperance was delighted to act upon the Doctor's adviceto leave Paris. Doctor Potain had told the philosopher that it wasabsolutely imperative that his daughter should have two or threemonths of absolute quiet. He suggested the mountains; but Esperancewould have none of them. She loved far horizons and vast plains, buther real choice was the sea. So it was decided that the family shouldgo to their little farm at Belle-Isle-en-Mer. 

"You must go immediately, " the Doctor commanded, "and to begin withyou must have two weeks' complete repose, in the sun, in a comfortablereclining chair. "

Esperance was beside herself with joy. To see the pretty farm againnestling in its circle of tall tamarisks, to dream for hours by theseaside, to breathe the breath of furze and seaweed! The windows ofher room overlooked the land on one side, and on the other she hadwild ocean, studded with black rocks gleaming under the sea'scaresses. 

Maurice Renaud, Jean Perliez and Genevieve Hardouin were invited bythe Darbois to spend their vacation at the farm of Penhouet. Theirarrival at the Gare d'Orsay was a complete surprise to Esperance, whothrew herself on her father's neck, sobbing with pleasure. 

He chided her gently, "Daughter, are you going to break your word tothe Doctor?"

So she at once began to laugh in the midst of her tears. 

"No, papa dear, only I have not yet begun to keep it. The cure willonly commence with my first day in the long chair on the seashore. Soyou see I can still cry a little in gratitude for all yourthoughtfulness. "

The trip was gay, thanks to Maurice's nonsense. Modern painter, cosmopolitan, elegant, and cultivated gentleman, he could still becomefrolicsome and frivolous with nonsense in happy company. 

M. Darbois, ordinarily so quiet, laughed at his antics till the tearscame, while Mme. Darbois smiled that pleasant smile that had firstlong ago appealed to François's heart. As to Mlle. Frahender, theartist's wit fairly made her dizzy. As at Brussels, she soon gave uptrying to follow him, for at the moment when she thought she hadcaught the trend of his humour he had already branched off intoanother anecdote, this time serious, and her laugh would come toolate. So she tried to read the names of the little stations flyingpast, but the speed of the train was so great that, like Maurice'sanecdotes, she only got as far as the first syllable. She closed hereyes and slept. 

They changed trains at Auray about six in the morning. The youngpeople took charge of the luggage while Maurice went to make sure thatthe portmanteau with his canvas and paints was securely on the righttrain. With his mind at rest, he joined them at the little buffet, where they were having shrimps, pink as roses, fresh eggs, coffee andthe little cakes of the countryside. 

"This way for Quiberon, " called out the guard. And the train carriedthe whole family away to its next stage. 

When Esperance breathed the life-giving breath of the sea, when shecould distinguish the green line of ocean beyond the trees, sheclapped her hands with ecstasy. She became a guide for Genevieve, explaining to her the conformation of Carnac, and recounting withpretty fancy the legends of the country they were passing through. 

At last the train stopped at Quiberon. They stopped at the Hotel deFrance to speak to the Proprietress, Mme. Le Dantec, and get a picnicdinner from her to take with them. The boat, the _Soulacroup, _was filling the air with its second whistle, so they had to hurryalong. The tide was not yet full, so they had to climb down the slimyquay, slippery with trodden seaweed, shiny with fish scales. The boatwas taking on board a dozen red hogs that snorted mightily. Severalwomen with well-laden baskets settled themselves in the fore part ofthe vessel, using the baskets as a barricade between themselves andthe pigs. Our travellers settled themselves as well as possible, whichwas not well at all, on the little bridge under an awning. However, Esperance found it all delightful. 

The trip was rather rough and uncomfortable, but most of the companymade the best of it. Mlle. Frahender grew pale and ill, and her hairflew about in the most comic disarray. Cosily ensconced in a corner, Maurice sketched the various attitudes his companions assumed withevery antic of the lightly-laden, wave-tossed Soulacroup. Hunched upon the seat, Esperance clung to the rigging. Genevieve clutched at herwhen a wave pitched the boat too far over. The others, well muffledup, waited in silence. Jean Perliez sighted the shore continually withhis glasses, wishing it ever nearer so that his impatient idol mightsoon be safe on shore again. 

In due course the port of Palais came in view. The Soulacroup'swhistle shrieked through the air and in a quarter of an hour more theylanded. First the red pigs were taken off, tottering even on solidland, no doubt brooding over the evils they had just passed through. 

Maurice was enthusiastic when he caught a good view of the little portof Palais, filled with a hundred little boats lined with blue nets. The tuna boats carried from their ropes and around their sides long, stiff silver tunas, so bright in the sun's rays that they hurt theeyes. 

"Oh! Do look, " cried Esperance. 

A little boat had just approached, overladen with sardines, and soon asilver shower was falling on the hard stones of the quay. It was abeautiful sight, and the excitement of the Parisians amused the jollyfishermen mightily. 

François Darbois led his party to the carriage that was waiting, abrake with six seats, drawn by two farm horses. The farmer on the boxseat was beaming with pride at the return of his patrons. 

It is more than an hour's journey from Palais to Penhouet, but theroad seemed short, on account of its variety of view. Leaving Palais, there was first of all the ropemakers rolling long strands of hempwith their fingers almost bleeding over the task. They had chosen acharming spot; shaded by a little orchard they worked and sang theropemaker's song, with a lingering, dragging melody. And then, afterpassing a little wood, the island itself came into view. It wascovered with gorse, like a series of Oriental carpets dotted with thegold of the broom in bloom, woven with rose heather, and red heather, and purple heather. The bright green foliage of the wild roses"appeared" like arabesques. The sky, hanging low, bluish green, without a cloud, seemed as a silken film stretched to filter the heatof the sun. At a turn in the road the plain disappeared to give placeto little hills, which rise from every side to defend from wind andrain the beautiful golden wheat, with its heads drooping under theweight of the heavy grain. 

"Ah!" cried Esperance joyfully, standing up in the carriage, "I cansee there is the farm just ahead. "

The road dropped abruptly so they had to put on the brakes in spite ofEsperance's impatience. 

And the two young girls, clinging to each other, saw the littlered-roofed farm house enlarge, as they grew nearer. At last thecarriage stopped, and the farmer's wife came forward to meet themwith her three children. At twenty-six she looked forty, like mostpeasant women exhausted by work and child-bearing. Madame Darboiscaressed the children, who had just been having their ears washedand their hair combed vigorously to prepare them for the advent oftheir master's family. 

The farm house was long, and close to the earth, being only onestory high. The front door gave directly on the same level into thedining-room, a large room which also served as the salon or parlour, with a bright kitchen to one side, where shining casseroles spoke ofthe order of the proprietors; to the left, was a large bedroom, sacredto the Darbois themselves. Close to the kitchen was a very comfortableroom for Marguerite and the other maid. A wooden staircase led to sixrooms above, which were very airy, and all hung with bright chintzes. Mlle. Frahender was installed next to Esperance, with Genevieve on theother side. The two young men were sent to what was known as the "FiveDivisions of the World, " being composed of five cabins, Europe, Asia, Africa, America and Oceania. These five rooms were always reserved forguests, were built of pitchpine, and their windows gave directly onthe sea. 

Farther away, at the edge of the fields, were the farmer's quarters, with a long pond full of reeds and iris, hard by and adjoining thepond a pigeon house with sixteen white pigeons which were very dear toEsperance. She loved to see them fly across the water, like prettymessengers disporting between two skies. 

After a frugal dinner the young people climbed the dills as far asPenhouet. The bay was surrounded on all sides by high rocks, behindwhich were hidden smaller rocks, covered with mosses, and mussels; andon the right the cliff hollowed out into a dark cave facing the land. This little beach, cheerful by day, grew mysterious with the fall ofnight. Esperance could point out Quiberon, outlined across the waybetween land and sky like a ribbon of light. The little lighthouse, high on the plateau above the farm, sent out its long lunar armsregularly to sweep the country and search the sea. 

CHAPTER XVII

Esperance kept her word to Doctor Potain, and spent fifteen daysstretched out in a cosy lounge chair. The particular part of the beachhad been chosen by Maurice, for it was during this time of forcedrepose that he intended to do his cousin's portrait for the nextSalon. In a little hollow of the hill, he settled the chair. A greattamarisk with feathery foliage of bright green formed a background. Tothe right was the sea, to the left a glowering mass of dark rocks. Jean and Genevieve took turns in reading aloud, and the picture wassaid to be progressing famously. During the first two weeks Esperancespent about five hours every day in the chair, but from the sixteenthday she only devoted one hour for posing, after lunch, and then shebegan to organize excursions to explore the country round about. 

One morning as the four young people were returning from a bicycleride, they saw ahead of them the little brake on its return journeyfrom Palais to the farm which Mme. Darbois had used on a shoppingexpedition with Marguerite. In the brake were two other persons--twomen. The excursionists were still too far from the carriage torecognize the strangers. But Esperance, who was watching, stoppedsuddenly. Genevieve, who was behind her, almost rode into her, and hadto jump lightly from her wheel. Maurice and Jean were some distancebehind. She called to them. They were much concerned to findEsperance, with a pale face, clenching her hands on the handle-bar. 

"What is it, cousin, what ails you?"

At first she did not speak at all, then her eyes lost their far-awaylook and she gazed at Jean. 

"I don't know, " she said in a changed voice, "I think I had somehallucination come upon me. "

Then she pointed towards the distant brake which was approachingPenhouet at a great pace. 

"What did you see?" Maurice insisted. "You have had a dizzy feelingcome over you? You must be careful. "

"Yes, perhaps so, " she went on, shaking her head as if to rid it ofsome vague thoughts that were disturbing her brain, "perhaps so. Butlet us be quick, for one of the gentlemen was Doctor Potain. "

"Were there two men, " asked Jean. 

"Yes, two. "

And she started off again at a great pace. 

Jean was dolefully perplexed. 

When they arrived at the farm they were quite breathless from theirlong ride. The philosopher was waiting for them at the door. 

"Esperance, my dear, " he said, "Doctor Potain is here with the Duke deMorlay-La-Branche. Your mother met them at the Palais, just as theyhad landed from the boat and were looking for a carriage. "

"Very well, father, I must change my things and I will be with you asquickly as possible. "

Jean Perliez understood the emotion of his dear little comrade. Sheseemed to him at once terrified and fascinated. Maurice was presentedto the Duke, who immediately began to make himself agreeable. He wasquite anxious he said to see the portrait of which M. Darbois hadspoken, so Maurice led him up the hill side. The portrait was on aneasel, and from a distance the Duke almost thought that he was seeingthe real Esperance, the little girl who was troubling his life. He wasdelighted with the freshness of the colouring, and the perfection ofthe likeness, so necessary when the model is so beautiful. 

Maurice was pleased by the appreciation of such a skilled dilettante, the praise was evidently sincere. He was very much taken with theDuke, who predicted a glorious future for him. 

Jean waited at the foot of the staircase leading to the girl's rooms, and watched them descend. Esperance was looking radiant. She haddressed herself with particular care. He understood the tremors of herheart and decided to keep watch in case she should need him. 

When the girls came into the hall, the Duke was talking to Maurice, and the Doctor to François Darbois. The gentlemen had not heard thedoor open, but intuitively the Duke turned around. 

Esperance met his burning eyes which were veiled by an expression thatsuggested repentant submission. She inclined her head slowly and wentstraight up to Doctor Potain, thanking him for coming, and apologizingfor having kept him waiting. Potain led her into her parents' room. Hewas much disturbed by the uneven beating of her heart, stormier thanhe had ever heard it. 

"That is because I just rushed foolishly on my bicycle to see you, Doctor. I recognized you a long way off. So. .. . "

The Doctor looked closely at the young girl. Her eyes shone withabnormal brightness. He sounded her, but found nothing wrong exceptthe irregularity of her heart. He sent Esperance back to the salon sothat he could talk with her father alone. The Duke hastened toapologize for having come thus without notice. He was staying at theChâteau of Castel-Montjoie with Doctor Potain, and when he heard thatthe Doctor was leaving for Belle-Isle, he could not resist theopportunity to come and ask pardon. He talked a long time, withardent, almost brotherly tenderness; asked when Esperance thought ofmaking her appearance at the Comedie-Française, urging her to play_"Camille, "_ and spoke with considerable praise of Musset'sheroine. 

"The character of the young girl seems to have been caught alive. Icriticize her only for her hardness. "

"But, " Esperance replied quickly, "that hardness is simply a lightveneer, the result of her education. _'Camille_, ' who knewnothing of life except through the disillusioned account of her friendin the Convent, would soon become human if _'Perdican'_ had aless complicated psychology. "

She stopped, and was silent a minute. 

The Duke looked at her. 

"All the world has not the candour of a Count Styvens, " he said. 

This unfortunate sentence exactly answered a fleeting thought that waspassing in Esperance's brain. 

"So much the worse for 'all the world, '" she said quietly and lefthim. 

Her father and Doctor Potain came in at this moment. 

"What are you plotting against me?" she said, going up to them. 

François caressed her velvet cheek. "You shall soon know. "

The Duke had remained dumbfounded in his chair. The sudden mastery ofthis child, who had for the second time rebuked him, touched hispride. His instinct as an irresistible charmer told him she was notindifferent to him. Still he could not define in what way he appealedto her. Was it physical? Was it of a higher order? After a littlecogitation, he concluded that that was the secret. However, he waswrong. Esperance was subjugated by the attraction of his masculinityand strength, which was subtly energetic and audacious. His taste andindependence appealed to her artistic nature. His vibrant voice, thegrace of his slender hands, the lightness of his spirits always alert, his superiority at every sport, made the Duke de Morlay-La-Branchequite like a real hero of romance. He had expected to subjugate thelittle Parisian idol, and found himself thwarted by her. This ratherannoyed him, and he vowed to conquer her. 

Doctor Potain, who was looking at his watch, now chimed in with, "Mydear Duke, we must be thinking of leaving; the boat will not wait forus. "

Charles de Morlay thanked his farm hosts, and after bowing elegantlyover Mme. Darbois's hand, looked for Esperance. 

"Jean, " said Professor Darbois, "look and see if you can findEsperance, and tell her to come and say good-bye to our dear Doctor. "

But Jean returned alone. Esperance was not to be found. She had flown. 

"She had not forgotten about the boat, " said the young actor. 

"Perhaps she has gone on her bicycle to gather news of old motherKabastron, who is very ill. That is about ten minutes' distance fromhere. I will ride ahead on my bicycle. "

The Duke laughed gaily, and prepared a scathing witticism with whichto wither the young girl. But he did not have the pleasure ofdelivering it to Esperance, who had hidden herself behind her portraitat the foot of the rook. 

She reappeared much later, and was rebuked by her father for havingshown such discourtesy to his guests. 

"You know very well, papa dear, that I am very grateful to DoctorPotain, and I should not have gone away if he had been alone. "

M. And Mme. Darbois looked at each other and at Esperance. 

"Yes, my dear little mother, the Duke makes himself too agreeable foryour big daughter. "

"But, " said the philosopher, "I have never noticed it. "

"You were absorbed in a philosophic discussion with the Doctor, andthe Duke was not speaking very loud. "

"Can you not be more definite?" asked François Darbois a littlenervously. 

Jean intervened, "May I say something?"

"Certainly, my boy. "

"Well then. I heard the Duke de Morlay-La-Branche make fun of thehonesty of Count Styvens, and at that Esperance abruptly broke off theconversation. "

François turned towards Esperance. 

"That is so, " she said, kissing her father, "so tell me that you arenot angry with your little daughter. "

For answer he kissed her tenderly. 

"Ah! if I could find a way to shelter you from so much admiration, from being so much sought after. Yet I don't know very well how todefend you. "

"Do not reproach yourself, dear father, you have been so good, sotrusting. I will never betray that confidence, and my godfather willbe obliged to consume all his own horrid prophecies. "

CHAPTER XVIII

When Esperance's portrait was finished, the family could not admire itenough. Maurice who was for himself, as for others, a severe critic, said, "It is the first time that I have been satisfied with my ownwork. Little cousin, you have brought me luck, so if my uncle willpermit me I am going to teach you to ride a horse. "

"My goodness!" said Madame Darbois, "still more anxiety for us!"

But Esperance clasped her hands with delight. 

The first riding lessons were a source of new joy for Esperance. Maurice was an excellent rider, and his passion for horses had madehim expert in handling them. He had chosen a horse for his cousin froma stable in the Cotes-du-Nord, the private stable of the Count Marcusde Treilles, the horse had been secured at a bargain on account ofsome blemishes of his coat. He was very gentle, however, and theDarbois soon felt confidence in him. Doctor Potain had recommended agreat deal of physical exercise for the patient, to counteract theexcess of mental work which had weakened her heart. 

"Riding, fishing, walking, tennis, " the great specialist had said toFrançois Darbois, "will be the best thing for your daughter, and, "pressing his hand, "let her get married as soon as possible. "

Long excursions about the little island became for Esperance the mostdelightful part of their country life. Very often M. And MadameDarbois, Mlle. Frahender and Genevieve Hardouin would follow in thebrake. They carried their lunch with them and ate it sometimes in thelittle wood of Loret, sometimes on the cliffs amidst the broom, furzeand asters with their golden flowers and silver foliage. 

The philosopher's fishing fleet was composed, as he laughingly said, of a blue boat with blue sails, and a little Swedish whaler. Françoiswent every evening about six o'clock to set the nets with the farmer'seldest son, whose portrait Maurice intended doing for the followingSalon. All the little colony gathered at nine in the morning on thebeach, ready with baskets to bear away the catch. 

Maurice, Jean and Esperance went out with the Professor to get thenets. Sometimes they had been put far out and then Esperance would rowwith the others, for which rough sport her delicate arms seemed out ofplace. The young people would cry out with delight every time they sawthe fish under the transparent water held by the meshes. Sometimesthey had quite a big draught; two or three rays, several magnificentsoles, with mullets, and flounders. Sometimes a great lobster wouldgive the net such tweaks that they guessed his presence before theysaw him. And sometimes it happened that the catch was nothing but afew sea crabs, who would half devour the other unfortunate fishimprisoned with them. Another day a great octopus appeared, andEsperance grew pale with fright at sight of his long clingingtentacles. 

Esperance often made a selection of the seaweeds in the net, and sheand Genevieve commenced an album in which they pasted, in fancifuldesigns, these plants, fine as straws or solid and sharp of colour. This album was intended for Mme. Styvens, and the girls worked at itlovingly. Maurice would sometimes assist them with his advice or makethem a sketch which they could copy as carefully as their beautifulmaterials would admit. Mlle. Frahender devoted infinite patience togluing the tiniest fibres of the sea plants. Some were bright pink, suggesting in formation and colour the little red fishing boats. Others were gold with their slender little flowers rising in clusters. The long supple green algaes, swelling along their stems into littleround beads, like beads of jade, looked as though they wore someChinese costume. As the album grew it gave promise of wonderfulsurprises. 

On the first of September François Darbois received a letter fromCount Styvens, asking permission to come and submit to him aphilosophical work that he had just finished. He begged to present hiscompliments to Mme. And Mlle. Darbois. The professor read the letteraloud after dinner. 

"I hardly think, " he queried, "that I can well refuse this pleasure tomy favourite pupil?"

Maurice, Jean, the old Mademoiselle and Mme. Darbois seemed very happyat the prospect of a visit from the Count. 

"He is a very good musician. .. . " "He can row splendidly. .. . " "He has aheart of gold. .. . " concluded the philosopher. 

A dispatch was sent to Albert Styvens, telling him they would all bedelighted to see him. Only Esperance showed some reserve, and Mauricecried out, "My cousin is in dread of musical evenings, I see!"

They all laughed at this quip, which had a very close resemblance tothe truth. 

"Yes, papa, but no music after dinner: our evenings would be lost! Itis so pleasant to go for long walks on these wonderful moonlightnights! The piano is for the town, here we only want to enjoy theharmonious music of nature, the sea that croons or roars, the windthat whistles, whistles or scolds, the plaint of the sea-gulls in thestorm, the cry of the frightened gulls and cormorants, the clicking ofthe pebbles rolled over by the waves; all these charm me strangely andI often sleep on the little beach, soothed by these melodies which youwill find echoed in the themes of our great masters. "

The philosopher drew his daughter on his knee. 

"Very well. We will not mention music to your lover. "

The word had slipped out but it stung the young girl, however, shewould not let her resentment appear. 

"So, " she thought, "they all accept the courting of Albert Styvens. Myfather himself is part of the conspiracy against me. "

She led Genevieve outside and confided to her her apprehensions. Heryoung friend did not deny that the coming of Count Styvens had theappearance to all of an approaching proposal of marriage. 

"My God, " said Esperance, pressing her friend's arm, "it seems to methat I shall never be able to say 'Yes. ' I am so happy as I am. "

The two girls were sitting on a little mound. The moon was reflectedin a sea as quiet as the sky. 

"See, " said Esperance, "that is the image of my life. At this moment Iam calm, happy, and my art is like that bright star. It brightenseverything for me without troubling me. .. . I do not love CountStyvens. Oh!" she went on in answer to a movement from Genevieve, "Ilike him as a friend, but I do not love him. I know he is a gallantgentleman, a fine musician, and a splendid athlete; I recognize thathe is very generous and that he is entirely unselfish--for these Igreatly respect him, but these qualities alone have nothing to do withlove. "

"He is a very good-looking man, " said Genevieve. 

"His arms are too long and he has not any decided colour. His face, his hair, his eyes are all of a neutral tint which you cannot define. "

"But handsome men are very rare!"

Esperance did not answer. 

"There is the Duke de Morlay-La-Branche, too. Do you like him anybetter?"

The moon shone full on Esperance's face. 

"Great Heavens, dearie, " exclaimed Genevieve quickly, "you are not inlove with that man, I hope. "

"Don't speak so loud, " said Esperance, frightened. "No, I am not inlove with the Duke, but he bothers me, I confess. He is continually inmy mind, and the thought of him makes the blood rush to my heart. Whenhe is present I can struggle against him, but I have no strengthagainst the picture of him I so often conjure up. That dominates memore than he can do himself. That seems innocent enough, but I knowvery well all the same, that I find every excuse for dwelling on thethought of him. No, I do not love him . .. But still. .. . " she murmuredvery low. 

Genevieve took her friend in her arms. 

"Esperance, darling, save yourself! Think of the downfall of yourmother's happiness, think of the fearful remorse of your father. Thinkof your godfather's iniquitous triumph. Ah! I beg of you, accept theCount's love, become his wife, you will be constrained by your loyaltyto save your father's honour. But the Duke. .. . "

"My father's honour is precious to me, and you see, I am defending itbadly, " said Esperance. She wept quietly. Genevieve drew her head downon her shoulder. Esperance kissed her. 

"Come, we must go back, it is getting late. I thank you, Genevieve, and I love you. "

A letter arrived the next morning which announced that the Count wouldpay them his visit on Thursday. 

There were just three days before his coming. Esperance had made upher mind, after her talk with Genevieve, to accede to her parents'wishes. She and Genevieve went to inspect the room that had beenprepared for the Count. It was a little square apartment very nicelyarranged. On the floor was a mat with red and white squares. Thewindows looked out on the rocky coast. The young people decided tohang some small variegated laurels from the ceiling to decorate it. Onthe mantel they put some flower vases on either side of a plaquerepresenting the golden wedding of a Breton couple. Mme. Darboisopened for them what Esperance called her "reliquary, " and they foundthere flowers and ribbons. They chose wisteria, and lavender and whiteribbons, then went to work on their wreath. A large crown of prettybunches was hung from satin ribbons. When it was ready the four youngpeople went with ladder and tools to hang the wreaths, Mauricestanding high up on the ladder drove in the peg intended to hold thecrown. 

"As reward for this service, you know, " he said, "I must be allowed toput the wreath on your pretty head, the day that you are married. "

Esperance blushed and sighed sadly. 

The room was charming in its decoration, though when it was finishedit seemed more fit for a young girl than for a big, broad-shoulderedman. 

M. And Mme. Darbois went to meet Count Styvens at Palais. François hadtaken his glasses and pointed out the boat to his wife. 

"There is the Count, " said Mme. Darbois. "I recognize his tallfigure. "

In truth, Albert Styvens was stepping ashore, holding in his arms achild of two or three years. He put it down carefully, and held outhis hand to a poor, bent old woman, who tried to straighten up tothank the kind gentleman. 

François and Germaine came up to the young man, who pressed thephilosopher's hand and presented his respects to Mme. Darbois: andseeing them look with some curiosity at the old woman, he said, "Here, Madame, are some good people deserving of your kindness. Mme. Borderieis this little chap's grandmother. Her widowed son died five monthsago of tuberculosis, and as the child was coughing she gave everythingshe had to take him to a specialist in Nantes. The rough sea to-daymade the poor little fellow ill, bringing on a horrible coughingattack. The poor woman was too weak to hold him during hisconvulsions, and he rolled away from her, and she was so frightenedwhen he did not move, that she was going to throw herself overboard. Irushed with the other passengers to stop her, we calmed her finally, and after some little time I was able to resuscitate the child, whohad gone off in a fit. "

The poor woman wept as he talked, and showed a banknote he had slippedinto her hand when he said good-bye. 

"You must put that away. You will need it, " said the young Count, smiling. 

"Where do you live?" enquired Germaine. 

"At Pont-Herlin. "

"That is some distance away?"

The old woman shook her head and feebly shrugged her thin shoulders. 

"I must go there. "

"Well, Mme. Borderie, we will take you there. "

Without further parley, Albert picked the old woman up lightly and sether down in the brake. The baby was deposited on her knees where hepromptly fell asleep. The Count's little trunk found place beside thefarmer on the front seat. A basket of osier, which the young man hadhandled very carefully, was also placed in the brake, and then theyset off for Pont-Herlin. 

They were growing anxious at the farm of Penhouet, at the non-appearanceof M. And Mme. Darbois, Pont-Herlin lies some way from the Point desPoulains and the roads are not in very good condition, especially fora two horse brake. But soon the wind brought the sound of horse's hoofsand shortly after the brake drew up before the farm. Albert went whiteat sight of Esperance. She had come forward first, fearful on accountof the delay. Mme. Darbois explained the cause, and spoke of the Count'sgreat kindness, to the old woman and her boy. 

Esperance raised her pretty eyes, damp with emotion; she looked atAlbert, wishing she could admire his person as much as she did hismind. And, somehow, as she looked she was agreeably surprised. 

"After all, he is not ugly, if he is not handsome, " she thought, "andhe is so genuinely good. "

In this state of mind she left her hand an instant in his and hetrembled. 

The young people were anxious to lead Styvens to his room. François, however, was not allowed to accompany them. They marched two ahead, two behind, with the Count between, like a prisoner. Never before hadAlbert seen Esperance so naturally gay, never had he found her morefascinating. He was almost delirious with happiness. Life seemed tohim only possible with this lovely creature for his wife! His wife!Such an accession of blood gushed into his heart at the thought thathe stopped giddily. 

Jean and Genevieve, who closed the order of march, bumped against him, for he stopped so suddenly that they thought something must be wrong. 

"Good Heavens! are you ill?" asked Genevieve. 

The Count smiled. "Excuse me, I am sorry. It was my mistake. "

As they went on again Maurice whispered to his cousin, "You know, Esperance, you have it in your power to make that man happy for ever. I can see it. Why it seems to be almost a duty. It will be likeoffending Providence to refuse the wonderful future that lies openbefore you. "

Esperance was very thoughtful, but her gay spirits returned when theyarrived at the "Five Divisions of the World. " The little cortegeclimbed the narrow staircase, crossed the little ante-chamber whichopened on the opposite side on a court cut out of the rock. Each roomhad a door on this natural court. Stopping before the last door, onwhich was written "Oceania, " the young people bowed before the Count. 

"Behold the prison of your Highness!"

When he was left alone the Count examined his surroundings. His simplechamber seemed to him sumptuous. He smelt the flowers on themantelpiece, half suspecting that they were an attention of the younggirls. The wreath suspended from the ceiling made him smile. It hadbeen hung there in his honour, there could be no doubt about that. There was a knock on the door. Marguerite entered, followed by thefarmer bringing the trunk and the osier basket. 

He stopped the old servant as she was going out. "Wait a moment andhelp me, please. "

He cut the string which held the basket and took out four bouquets asfresh as if they had just been gathered. 

"See, Marguerite, the name is pinned on each bouquet; be so good as togive them to the ladies. "

At half-past one the Count appeared walking up and down before thedoor of the dining-room. He did not want to be the first one to enter. Maurice joined him. 

"I would love to see the portrait of your cousin, " said Albert. 

"I will show it to you after lunch. "

"Is it finished?"

"Yes; but I still have some retouching to do to the background, and Ishall be glad to have your advice upon it. It is not perhaps exactlynecessary, yet every time that I look at it, I feel the need of someslight change. "

Genevieve and Esperance came in together. The contrast of this doubleentry was striking. Genevieve, dark, with regular features, framed bya mass of heavy black hair; Esperance, shell pink, aureoled by herwavy blonde hair. Genevieve was so beautiful that Maurice was moved. Esperance was so dazzling that the Count mentally praised God at thesight of her. He was warmly thanked for his pretty flowers, severalblossoms of which each girl had pinned to her dress. 

When the fish appeared, Maurice rose gravely. 

"This magnificent fish, sir, " he said to Albert Styvens, "was caughtby me for you; it is for you to decide whether to share it with us orwhether you prefer to eat it alone. "

The young attaché arose and with more humour than they expected fromhim, took the platter and bowed with it towards Mme. Darbois. Theconversation raced merrily along, and they were soon disputing aboutsports. The Count learned that Esperance rode on horseback. He wasdelighted, and inquired if he would be able to procure a mount. Jeanoffered his, but the Count, who knew of his love for Esperance anddivined what a joy these excursions must be to him, refused thissacrifice. The farmer's wife, who helped to wait at table and wasignorant of social customs, forthwith entered the conversation. 

"Ah! if Madame will permit me, I can bring you to the Commandant, whohas a fine horse to sell. "

"You may have no fish this evening, " said the professor genially. "AsI was away meeting you, I could not put out my net. "

"But we did it, father, " said Esperance, "and I hope that CountStyvens will have some magnificent luck. We go fishing this evening. "

"So, you are a fisherwoman too, Mademoiselle?"

"We fish every morning, and we shall be very glad to have you joinus, " said the girl quietly. 

After lunch the Count joined the four young people in a ramble alongthe cliffs. Esperance and Genevieve went arm in arm, the three youngmen followed; with Styvens in a dream of delight, happier than he hadever been in his life. Maurice was watching Genevieve every day seeingher more beautiful, and abandoning himself without much effort to thisnew passion. Jean Perliez contemplated Esperance and smiled sadly, ifgladly too, at the thought that she was going to be delivered from thedangerous Duke de Morlay-La-Branche. They sat down on a high rockoverlooking the little beach of Penhouet and remained silent for awhile. 

"How very beautiful it is, " murmured Albert at last. "You love thesea, do you not, Mlle. Esperance?"

"More than anything else in nature. I love great plains too, but Ilike them best because they are like the sea when they billow underthe breeze. "

"You don't like the mountains at all?" asked Genevieve. 

"Oh! no, I stifle there. I dream at night that they are pressing in tostrangle me. I went to Cauterets with mama after she had bronchitis. Ispent all my time climbing to get a view of a horizon and breathebetter. As soon as mama was well the Doctor sent us away saying thatit was not good for me. "

"And the forest?" asked Albert. 

"The forest hides the sky too much. Nothing makes me as sad as thedeep woods. "

"And the lakes, cousin, what do you say of them?"

"A lake makes me shiver. I feel constrained before a lake as before aperson whom I know to be false and perfidious. Of course, the sea isdangerous, but no one is ignorant of its caprices, its violence, itstragic love bouts with the wind. The sea is open, whether in laughteror fury. See, look off there, " she said, standing upon the rock. "Thisevening it is calm as a lake, and still the waves are all rippling, preparing for an assault on this rock! It is so immensely alive, evenin its great reserve!"

The silhouette of the young girl, cut against the horizon, was blurredby the passing night mist. She seemed a flower blooming by moon-light. Maurice said in a low tone to Genevieve, "See if you can realize thispicture. It is beyond the power of any painter. "

"One of the aboriginals might have succeeded. He would not have beenguided by any of the conventions that are introduced in all the artsand bar the way to the realism of the ideal, which is dear to all trueartists. "

"The realism of the ideal is very true, but how are you going to makeamateurs or critics feel that?"

"Oh!" replied Genevieve, with much conviction, "There is always anamateur of the beautiful, there is always a critic who describes hisemotion sincerely, it is for them that I give my tears when I am onthe stage. "

Esperance dropped on her knees, and taking her friend's head in herhands, "You are always right, Genevieve, " she said. "It is a greatgift to have you for a friend. "

"My little cousin speaks truth, " concluded Maurice. 

Genevieve stretched out her hand with a smile to thank him. The youngman kept the contact of that charming strong hand and kissed it withmore warmth than convention required. 

"Monsieur Maurice, " murmured the girl with trembling lips. But shecould not voice a reproach. She got up to hide her blushes. 

"Is not this the time for us to go back? The air is getting sharp, andyou have no wraps, Esperance. "

Count Styvens stood up to his full height and stretched his hands tohis little idol to help her up, but she had withdrawn before the twoarms stretched towards her, and recoiled in a kind of fright. 

"Did I startle you?"

"Oh! No, " she said nervously, "But I was dreaming, I was far away. .. . "

"Where were you, cousin?"

"I don't know. Thoughts are sometimes so scattered that it is hardlypossible to give a clear impression. "

Putting her hands in the Count's she jumped lightly to her feet. Theyoung men led the girls back to the farm, and silence descended uponthe Five Divisions of the Globe. 

But love made every one of these young creatures somewhat unsettled, and it was long before either of them slept. Esperance and Genevievetalked low, and long silences broke their confidences. Count Styvenshad brought cigarettes for Maurice and Jean. All three stayed andtalked a long time in the painter's room. Alone with men, Styvens lostall the timidity that sometimes made him awkward. His broad andcultivated mind, his humanitarian philosophy unaffected by hisreligious beliefs, the sincere simplicity with which he expressedhimself, made a great impression on Jean and Maurice. 

"That man, " said the latter to his friend, "is of another epoch, anepoch when he would have been a hero or a martyr!"

"Perhaps he may yet be both, " murmured Jean. 

CHAPTER XIX

Next morning Albert Styvens asked Maurice to show him the portrait ofEsperance. He gazed at it a long time in silent admiration. He couldgaze his fill at a portrait without outraging the conventions. 

"What marvellous delicacy! Oh! the blue of the eyes! The mother ofpearl of the temples!"

He sat down, quivering with emotion, and looked frankly at Maurice. 

"I love your cousin; you know that, don't you?"

Maurice nodded. 

"I have loved her for a year, and you see me here, still hesitating tospeak to her father. "

"Why?"

"Because I know that she does not love me. .. . Oh! I believe, " he went onsadly, "I hope, at least that she does feel some friendship for me--butif she declines my proposal. .. What else would ever matter to me?"

Maurice came and sat down beside him. 

"Your mother?" he queried. 

"My mother loves Esperance devotedly, and she has a very realadmiration for your uncle as well. She is very religious. M. Darbois'sphilosophical books, which deny nothingness and proclaim the ideal, have been a great comfort to her in her voluntary solitude. She wouldbe very happy to know if I could be happy. "

"But, " objected Maurice. "I am afraid that my cousin does not wish togive up her art--the stage. "

"Yes, I am aware of that, but my mother and I have not the stupidprejudices of the multitude. Undoubtedly, this union, under suchconditions, would estrange us from many of our so called friends, andI should have to give up the diplomatic service, but that would nottrouble me. No, " he went on, resting his hand on Maurice's knee, "thehard part would be to see her every evening surrounded by theadmiration of so many men. I suffered when she was playing at theVaudeville, and then she was scarcely more than a child, but I heardthem all commenting on her beauty and it was all I could do to controlmyself. What shall I be if she becomes my wife? Ah! my wife! my wife!I really believe, M. Renaud, that her refusal would drive me mad; so, I hesitate. Hope is the refuge of the sick; and I am very sick--sickat heart. "

Maurice felt strangely drawn to this man, so simple, and so frank, andso innately refined in thought. 

"From to-day I am your ally, and I hope soon to be able to call you'dear cousin. ' As to her artistic career, Esperance will have tosacrifice that for you. We will all try to lead her to this decision, but you must not make her unhappy about it. "

"I am already disposed to all concessions except those which touch myhonour, and I assure you that my mother and I are both ready to scornall idle talk. "

The girls came up with Jean Perliez. The Count said, "Your portrait isa perfect likeness and is, moreover, a beautiful picture. But, " heexclaimed, "you are all ready for riding!"

"Yes, we are going to Port-Herlin. Won't you come with us? Mama, little Mademoiselle and Genevieve, are going in the carriage to carrysome provisions to poor old Mother Borderie. "

"Your invitation is very tempting, and I am going to surprise youperhaps by declining. The farmer arranged to have the Commandant'shorse here for this morning, but he comes accompanied by many warningsand I want to try him out when you are not here; if M. Perliez will bemy guide to Port-Herlin to-day I shall be glad. To-morrow I hope youwill offer me the same chance again. .. ?"

Esperance smiled delightfully. 

"Suppose we have lunch there, " said Maurice. 

"Papa would be left alone too long, and I want to see if M. Styvenscan fish as well as ride. We will come back to pull up the nets aboutfive o'clock, and then we will have tea in the boat. "

The carriage was ready, the horses saddled. The Count had the pleasureof assisting the young actress to mount, and then Esperance andMaurice set out together, followed by the brake. The Count and JeanPerliez took a more roundabout and a steeper way. Albert wanted tostudy the character of his horse. The first to arrive at Port-Herlinwere to await the others, and together they were to go to visit oldMother Borderie. 

The dwelling was one of the White Breton houses with thatched roof. There were three rooms, the kitchen, where one entered, and two littlerooms. In the first, fitted in the wall one above the other were twonarrow beds edged with carved wood; in the second room, four similarbeds. Large bunches of box, which had been blessed, ornamented thebeds where the woman's four children had died. The father of thelittle grandson was the last to go. The kitchen was unlighted exceptwhen the door was open. The bedrooms had each one narrow opening likea loophole. 

The old woman was sitting beside the hearth, by the side of which wasan armful of furze. The evening meal was slowly cooking in a marmitesuspended from a hook. Between her knees she held the child, combinghis hair. She stopped when she saw the visitors enter, and the childran towards the Count who took him in his arms. 

The presents they had brought were unwrapped by the girls. Blouses, trousers, clothes for the baby, a woollen dress, a muslin dress, withtwo beautiful fichus in true Breton style for the grandmother. One boxcontained sugar, coffee, and six jars of preserves; another, smokedbacon, salt pork, two bottles of candy and prunes, and six bottles ofred wine. The old woman looked, caressingly felt everything with herold knotted fingers, while the tears ran down the furrows that sorrowhad hollowed in each cheek. 

"Ah! if my son had had such good things, perhaps he would not havedied!"

And she stood before the food with her hands crossed, her eyes lost inthe distance among old far off memories. Esperance undressed thelittle fellow, and Genevieve looked for water to wash him beforeputting on his new clothes, but despairing of finding any, she triedto draw the old woman back from her dream. 

"Water?" she said. "I have been too weak these three days to go to thewell. There is none here but what is in that pitcher there, on theboard, but don't take it, Mam'selle, the baby is always thirsty. "

Genevieve raised her beautiful arm in its loose sleeve and picked upthe pitcher. She looked at the water and asked with surprise, "This isthe water you drink?"

"Yes, the cistern is empty, on account of the drought we have hadthese two months, and the spring is a mile away. It is too far for me, and especially for the child who is not strong. I don't dare leave himalone in the house here; and I don't dare leave him with theneighbours. They are too rough and they knock the little fellow aboutand he doesn't understand it is only done in joke, and he cries andcalls for me and gets such a fever that he almost died one day when Ileft him to go do washing still further away. "

"But couldn't you get the neighbours to bring you some water?" askedEsperance. 

"My young lady, there are thirteen in that family, and one of them isill to death!" she added sighing. 

Albert joined in, "Where is the spring?"

"Over there, near the church in the next village. "

"Very good, we three will go there, " he said, calling Maurice andJean, "and we will bring you back lots of water?"

"Wait till I give you. .. . " she opened the cupboard. "Here is the pail. Take care, it is very heavy. "

Albert began to laugh. "Come along, my friends. I have got an idea. "

Esperance watched him as he went out and for an instant she loved him. 

While waiting for the young men to return she settled her mother on achest. The only chair in the house was a straw arm-chair with a highback, on which the old Borderie was sitting and which she had notthought of offering. 

"No doubt, " said Mme. Darbois in a low tone, "little by little she hashad to sell everything she had. "

The girls opened a bottle of wine, the jar of prunes and the jar ofcandy, and arranged them on the board pointed out by the poor woman, who thanked them simply and said, "Ah! my little lad, how good it willbe for him!"

"And for you too, you know. Now drink some wine and take some coffee, "said Esperance, caressing the grandmother's hands. 

"I haven't got enough wood to boil the water. "

Madame Darbois looked at the girls contritely. "Wood, " she said. "Andwe never thought of it. "

"If you aren't poor, you don't have to think, " muttered the old woman. 

A contraction of the heart, the sting of remorse, pierced Mme. Darboisand the two girls. 

"To-morrow you shall have plenty of wood, Mme. Borderie. "

"That will be very good, kind lady, for then we can have a littleheat, and that is what the little one needs. The sun never comes intomy room, ah! it can't, the hole is not big enough. And then in theevening when the fog begins, my little boy, he coughs so, and thatmakes me shiver; then I take him in my bed, but my blood is not warmenough so he can't get warm. Ah! but that will be good for him, tohave wood! Thank you. "

For the first time her face broke into a smile, for she had almostforgotten how to smile. Her life had been nearly all tears. Suddenlyshe raised her head in fright--"What may that noise be?"

At the door a cart stopped. On the cart a big barrel. 

"Here is some water, Mme. Borderie, that we are going to pour intoyour cistern. "

With the help of the carter and Maurice, Albert got to work andbehold! the cistern half full. Albert tried the pump. 

"Don't waste any, in Heaven's name, " cried the old woman. 

"No, no, never mind. Anyway there is another barrel on its way. "

In fact another cart was stopping before the door. This barrel beingsmaller. Albert, impatient at the peasant's slowness, picked it uphimself and rolling it along, emptied it like the first in thecistern. 

"Look there, will you, Mother, " cried out the second carter, "thatisn't any cheap water. The fine gentleman has given a hundred francsto the town so you could have that water there. "

The Count coloured to the roots of his hair. He thought that Esperancehad not heard, but he met her contrite glance, full of gratitude. WithGenevieve's help she washed the little fellow, who was very docile, sniffing with pleasure the "good smell" of these ladies. Bathed, combed, in his new clothes, he was a darling. 

"I don't know you any longer, little boy. Who are you?" chuckled theold woman. And she kissed the child, saying, "On Sunday, we will go toMass, you will be as fine as the other little boys. "

She saw all her visitors to the door, and when Esperance jumped on herhorse, "You aren't afraid up there? You know horses aren't exactlytreacherous, but they are uncertain, and then these dreadful fliesmake them wild. _Au revoir_, Madame; my good gentlemen, thankyou. Good luck, Mam'zelle. "

The four riders returned together. Passing the little village ofDebers, they had to stop; a big hay wagon barred the way. The peasantwho was driving was abominably drunk. He swore and struck his horsesand jerked them violently towards the ditch. Maurice ordered him tomake way. He laughed foolishly and swore at them insultingly. Mauriceand the Count started forward, and the peasant menaced them with thescythe resting on the seat beside him. In a flash Albert leapt fromhis horse, threw the reins to Maurice, and went straight to thedrunkard. The fellow tried to brandish his scythe, but already Alberthad wrenched it from him and threw it aside. Then seizing the man, hepulled him down on his knees and held him there until he begged forpardon. The rustic, suddenly sobered, and raging with impatience, paidin full the apologies exacted by the Count, before he was allowed toget up. 

Jean, during this contest, had led the horses out of their way. Thedriver, pale with fury, swung his whip at large and it struckEsperance's horse. The poor beast, mad with fright, took the bitbetween his teeth and started out on a dizzy run. Albert saw at aglance the only possible way to stop his course. 

"Go to the left and cut across the road, " he cried, "I'll take theright. "

And he put his horse across the fields. 

Esperance's horse did not follow the bend of the road as Styvens hadexpected. Blinded by fright, it made straight ahead towards thecliffs. 

Once on the rocks, there was the precipice and certain death. 

The Count's horse leapt as if it understood what it had to do. 

The Count came up just as Esperance lost her seat and fell with onefoot caught in the stirrup. Her lovely blonde hair swept the earth. Twenty yards more and that exquisite little head would be crashed uponthe rocks. 

With a desperate effort, Albert by spurring his horse furiously wasable to reach her horse's head, seize him by the bridle and swinghimself to the ground. 

Braced against the rocks, he succeeded in halting the trembling beast, and bent in anguish over the fainting girl. But just as he freedEsperance's feet, the horse, still trampling and plunging, kicked himfull in the head. He went down like a stone. 

Maurice and Jean had now come up. One calmed the horse, the other wentto the aid of the wounded man. Albert, his face streaming with blood, was murmuring feebly, "No, she is not dead; no, she is not dead. .. . "

He fell back unconscious. 

Jean was kneeling beside Esperance. He raised his eyes to Maurice, moist with tears, but bright with hope. 

"She is alive, " he said, "she has just moaned feebly. It is only alittle way to the farm. Hurry Maurice, go for help. God grant theCount's wound may not be fatal. .. . "

The peasants who were haymaking nearby had left their work and comeupon the scene. One man offered his cart and Albert was lifted, unconscious and bloodstained, and laid on the hay. 

Esperance had come to her senses. She could see, but could notunderstand. A peasant woman, kneeling beside her, washed her face inwater from a pool in the rocks. 

Suddenly she recollected her comrade. 

"Jean, " she cried with fright, "Jean, Count Styvens?"

Jean sorrowfully showed her the wagon where he lay. Esperance, leaningon the young actor, stood up to be able to see, and a great sob shookher from head to feet. 

"My God! my God!" she moaned, "is he killed?"

"No, I don't think so, not yet at least. .. . "

"And his mother, his poor mother. .. . But what happened? I don'tremember. .. . It is terrible. .. . "

Jean described what had happened, and how the Count had snatched herfrom certain death. 

Esperance began to cry bitterly. 

Meantime Maurice was returning with the victoria in which were M. AndMadame Darbois. The wagon was sent on its way very slowly. Françoisstepped down quickly and took his daughter in his arms, intending tocarry her to the carriage. 

"My father, I am able to walk. .. . " she stifled with sobs. "But he. .. . "

The philosopher put her in the victoria beside her mother, and beggedJean to stay with them. Then he rejoined the cart, and climbed upbeside Maurice who was supporting the limp head on the hay. 

The professor had studied a little medicine. He could see that the woundwas grave, but the young man was robust and he allowed himself to hope. 

Maurice recounted the accident with all its details. 

"Brave fellow, " said François, taking the cold hand. And tears, hecould scarcely restrain, began to fill his eyes. 

Soon they all arrived at the farm. Marguerite, as she had beeninstructed, had prepared the Darbois's room to receive the woundedman. Esperance, exhausted, was put to bed, and was soon asleep, watched over by Mlle. Frahender, who prayed silently, counting overher rosary. 

They had difficulty in moving Albert Styvens. His great body was heavyand difficult to raise. Finally, after they had washed and bound uphis head, they succeeded in undressing him and making him ascomfortable as possible in the great bed. 

A quarter of an hour later he opened his eyes, and, in response to theanxious faces leaning over him, smiled sweetly. 

"And she?" he asked in a feeble voice. 

"Thanks to your courage, she is all right, " said Mme. Darbois. "You havethe blessings of a grateful mother. "

She put the young man's hand to her lips. Two warm tears fell down onit. The young man trembled, then his face grew radiant. They followedhis glance. On the threshold stood Esperance, leaning upon Genevieve. A half-hour of profound sleep had completely restored her. She hadwaked suddenly, and seeing Genevieve and Mlle. Frahender beside her, had asked, "How is Count Albert?"

And in spite of the protests of both women, she had got up. She wantedto be sure, she wanted to see!

The wounded man looked at her fixedly. 

"Tell me that I am not dreaming, " he implored. 

"Albert, " she murmured, going up to him, "I owe you my life. "

She knelt beside the bed and her delicate hand rested on his stronghand. 

"God is very good, " he sighed, closing his eyes. 

He went so pale that François came forward quickly to feel his pulse. He was silent a moment, then covering the patient's arm with the sheetagain, looked at his watch. 

"If only this doctor would come. .. . " he said. 

Almost immediately the head doctor from the barracks at Palais wasannounced. He was a man of forty, handsome, a little over-important, but he understood his business well enough. He diagnosed the wound asa fracture of the head and dressed and bandaged it, promising toreturn that evening with a soothing potion. 

For Esperance he prescribed a healing lotion for the many littlescratches, which were of no gravity. The girl was so insistent thatshe was allowed to watch beside her deliverer. Genevieve and Mlle. Frahender also stayed in the room, ready in case she needed help. Adispatch was sent to the Countess. 

Quiet redescended on the farm. A heavy atmosphere of sadness seemed toenvelop it. Lunch was served disjointedly, nobody cared to eat. Genevieve and Mlle. Frahender had been relieved by the maid, but theywere anxious to return to their posts, and when François began to foldhis napkin, they pushed back their chairs and quickly returned to thesick-chamber. The patient was becoming delirious. The name ofEsperance was continually recurrent in his confused talk. Once theyoung girl trembled; the Count's expression had become so ferociousthat she was terrified. Genevieve and the old Mademoiselle had justcome in. She clung to them, clenching her hands and hiding her face. She pointed to the Count, who, with his brows contracted and his lipssternly set, was talking volubly. All three trembled. He ground outthe name of the Duke of Morlay-La-Branche in a kind of roar. Mlle. Frahender, more composed than the girls, took the potion left by thedoctor to calm the fever when it should become too raging. Esperancehardened herself against the weakness which had made her leave thebedside, and while Genevieve held the bandaged head she poured theliquid between the sick man's lips. At the same time she spoke to himvery gently. 

The well-known, much-loved voice had more effect than the potion. Thewounded man grew gradually calmer, and still unconscious, sleptquietly once more. Then Esperance sank back in an easy chair, beggingMlle. Frahender to see that no one should make any noise. When thedoctor returned at nine, he found the patient had been sleeping for anhour. He was well satisfied, and waited a half-hour more beforedisturbing him to dress the wound. He could say nothing definitely asyet, except that the patient had lost no ground. 

He took his leave until next day, and when François asked him toinsist upon his daughter's rest, he refused, saying, "I shall donothing of the kind. She risks nothing except a slight fatigue, andshe is performing a good work. It may be that she is the real doctor. "

A telegram from Madame Styvens announced that she would arrive nextday with the doctor who had attended Albert from childhood, and afriend. She asked that rooms be reserved at the hotel at Palais. ButFrançois would reserve only the "Five Divisions of the World" for thethree travellers. They prepared one of the rooms as a dressing-roomfor the Countess, and Maurice and Jean went to lodge at the farmer's. 

It was with infinite discretion that Esperance broke the news of hismother's coming to Albert. 

"Poor mother, " he said, "she must be living through hours of anguishin her anxiety. But the doctor said that I am out of danger. "

"What! you were not asleep!"

He smiled with the almost childish smile of the very ill returning tolife. 

"Then I shall be on my guard, henceforth, " she threatened him gentlywith a slender finger. 

He stretched his hand out towards her. She pressed it tenderly. 

"Be careful, Albert, don't move too much. "

They had completely dropped the "Monsieur" and "Mademoiselle, " andthis intimacy filled the young man's heart with joy. 

CHAPTER XX

François had made a special arrangement with the captain of the_Soulacroup_, so that the charming Countess need not risktravelling with geese and pigs. At Quiberon he had reserved a specialroom that she might have at least an hour of rest. She went pale asdeath when she saw the philosopher and his wife waiting for her at thetrain, although they had sent her reassuring telegrams every fewhours. But feared that something serious might have happened while shewas on the way. 

François said with emotion as he kissed her trembling hand, "Everything is going well, Madame, be assured. "

She breathed deeply and the colour returned to her face, which wasstill so youthful in appearance. She presented Doctor Chartier, whohad been present at Albert's birth, and had cared for him ever since, and General van Berger. Several peasant women, who had heard the newsof her coming, pressed around offering flowers. 

"Your son is saved, Madame, " they said. 

Her mother's soul was overcome with sorrow and joy, for she felt thatthey spoke the truth. 

Esperance, who had been watching for her coming, threw herself intoher arms sobbing, but quickly realizing her impatience--"Come, come, he is expecting you. "

In spite of her efforts to keep calm the poor woman cast herself uponthe bed and embraced her son, interrupting her sobs with words ofendearment, crying, laughing, delirious with happiness, for he wasindeed alive, and she had feared. .. . But she cast away the terriblethought. 

The doctor from the barracks entered for a consultation with DoctorChartier, who issued the smiling command, "Leave him to the doctorsnow, good ladies. "

The Countess pressed a last kiss on her son's hand and went away withGenevieve and Esperance. 

After Doctor Chartier had examined the wound, he congratulated his_confrere_. "You have cared for our patient admirably, and youwill find that his mother is eternally grateful to you. "

And indeed the Countess did press his hands and expressed with noblesimplicity her gratitude to everyone for all that had been done forher son. 

The doctors were to return in the evening. Albert begged his mother totake a little rest. 

"If I have your word, dear mama, I declare to you I will go to sleep, I am so relieved to know your anxiety is over. "

"I will take care of your mother, Albert, " said Esperance. "You takeyour medicine and go to sleep. Genevieve has promised to come andfetch me if you do not. "

The Countess smiled as she went out with the young girl. She looked atthe pretty face, which was still scarred by the marks of her fall. Shelistened, trembling with terror, but admiring the coolness and courageof her adored son, while the little artist gave her an account of theaccident. Then she sent for Maurice and Jean Perliez that she mightthank them repeatedly. She loved them all for their goodness andsimplicity. 

"The maid is at your disposal, Madame, I will send her to you. " saidEsperance. She bent to kiss the Countess's hand, but found her facecaressed by it. 

"My daughter, my dear daughter, " said the Countess, kissing hertenderly. 

Esperance went away mystified, and in a daze. 

In eight days, Doctor Chartier left them. The invalid was nowconvalescent, but still confined--to his room for several days. Thehead wound was closing little by little. Happily the cut had been aclean one and there had been no complications; but fatigue was to beavoided, and the young Count was not allowed to exert himself in anyway. He usually settled himself in a big arm-chair near the window, and while his mother did some embroidering, Esperance read aloud. Every two hours they were relieved by Madame Darbois and Genevieve. Asto Maurice, he had made a plot in concert with Esperance and Albert, of offering a portrait of her son to the charming Countess. Baron vanBerger played endless games of cards with François. The days passedquickly and everyone seemed happy. Esperance's face was as lovely asever, for every scar had disappeared. 

The accident to Count Styvens had made a great stir in the fashionableworld, where the young Belgian diplomat was much esteemed and evenloved, and the artistic world was interested on account of Esperance. Telegrams and letters came in every day. The Duke de Morlay-La-Branchehad shown such an interest that the object of it (the Count) grewexasperated. The Duke had even expressed a desire to come and see thesufferer, but the philosopher, warned by Jean Perliez, replied coldly, pleading the doctor's orders. 

At last the day came when the Count was permitted to leave the sickroom. He was allowed to take a walk, and felt so strong that whenMaurice offered his assistance he refused it quite gaily. Esperanceand the Countess walked on either side of him; but suddenly he grewdizzy, and stretched out his arms. Maurice started forward to catchhim as he tottered, and the Count saved himself by catching hold ofthe shoulder of Esperance. Under this heavy burden Esperance shudderedand nearly fell, and grew so pale that Genevieve came to her. 

"Give me your arm, darling, and walk a little behind with me, you seemso shaken. .. . Oh! I guess why. .. . "

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

"Yes; I have been tortured again by some sort of repugnance, " saidEsperance. "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 shivered and grew silent, while pressing Esperance close toher side to give her courage. Her friend's confidences troubled hersadly. She also saw the shade of sorrow hovering over this pure face. She was on the point of encouraging Esperance to refuse the unionwhich would no doubt be proposed for her, but the recollection of theDuke haunted her. Was not this man more to be feared than deathitself?

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

"I swear to you, Genevieve, that I make superhuman efforts; but no oneis master of his thoughts. They are so impulsive and rapid that theyseem 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 gettinganxious. 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, "Howgrave you both look! What were you talking about that you should spoilyour beauty with furrows?"

The Count looked straight at Esperance and she could not preventherself from blushing. 

"My God, have pity on me, " she thought. "Help me to love this man. "

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

The portrait of the Count that Maurice had done proved to be quite aremarkable picture--life-like and natural. It was placed on themantel-piece in Mme. Styvens's room, where she found it when shereturned after lunch. It was accompanied by a very simple letter, buta very sincere one, recalling the courage of the young Count and noblyexpressing the gratitude of all. It was written and signed by thephilosopher, Mme. Darbois and Maurice. The beautiful portrait, sodelicately presented, was a source of happy comfort to this lonelywoman. 

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

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

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

And before his mother could speak he went on: "I am jealous, it istrue, but what happiness is not willing to pay for itself with alittle 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 lookingdeep in his eyes, said fervently--"Dear God! May happiness reward sogreat a love!"

The young Count returned with his mother to the farm where FrançoisDarbois and his wife waited for them by agreement. After a quarter ofan 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 beenwarned by Maurice of her family's interview with the Countess. Genevieve was with her, extolling the advantages of such a union, atthe same time exalting the real goodness of the Count. 

"Think also of your father, who at last will be able to realize hisdream of becoming a member of the Academy. You know as well as I dothat he has every chance of being elected, but he will never presenthimself as long as you are on the stage. You know the straightlaced, old-fashioned ways of that assembly. .. . "

"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 sofrank and straightforward, seems to get tangled in unexpected twiststrying to go the right way. Yes, yes, you are right; I must savemyself from myself. "

Just then the maid came into the room. 

"Monsieur wants to see Mademoiselle. Madame and Countess Styvens arewith 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 byher friend's words. Her father gave her in a few words the Countess'smessage. She went forward, very much agitated, her lips trembling, hervoice uncertain--"Madame, I thank God for giving me another mother whois so good, so lovable. "

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

Maurice, the Baron, Jean, Mlle. Frahender and Genevieve were all, during this interview, walking nervously in different directions aboutthe farm Albert was in his mother's room, sitting down, his head inhis hands, awaiting the decision which was to settle the joy or sorrowof 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 hisover-excited nerves. 

"Ah! Maurice, Maurice. .. . "

He threw his arms about the young man and was off on a run for thefarm. 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 silencebefore her, looking at her questioningly. Blushing and embarrassed theyoung girl held out her hands to him and replied low to the questionin 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 fiancés. Mlle. Frahender andGenevieve kissed Esperance tenderly. The Baron thundered in hismilitary voice, "There has been no battle, and yet here is the breathof victory. That is very good, but a little stifling. Let us have someair!"

The good man had expressed the general sentiment. 

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

Albert broke this restless silence, and said, as he took Esperance'shand, "I love you, Esperance, and I will do all that is in my power orbeyond 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 inlove with me. "

"I do not know just how I love you, my dear, but I should always haveturned 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, butI have never thought of the possibility of being happy with him. "

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

She did not answer at once. 

"The Duke?"

"Yes, the Duke. "

"I do not love him, " she answered frightened. "At moments I even hatehim, and. .. . "

"And?" insisted the young man, pressing the hand he was still holding. 

". .. I am happy to be your fiancée!!!"

Her voice vibrated, her eyes were tender with gratitude. 

During the dinner Countess Styvens announced that she must go nextday. 

"I will take my mother to Brussels, " said Albert, "and if you willpermit me, I will return immediately. "

The dinner was very gay, for they were all happy. Esperance herself, so restless, so disturbed only that morning, talked animatedly, keeping them all delighted with her grace and indefinable charm. Genevieve was astonished, doubting for a little while whether she wassimply purposely creating a false excitement. But no, she was reallyhappy. 

Baron van Berger rose for a little toast. 

"Dear friend, " he said, bowing to the Countess, "I am delighted to seethat you are reinforcing the ranks and enlisting the younger class. This reinforcement will bring you light, the joy of its twenty years. I drink to your sun of Austerlitz. "

Then, turning towards Albert, "I drink to the line of little soldiersthat you will give to Belgium, my boy. "

The Count became scarlet. Esperance dropped her eyes. Maurice couldhardly restrain his desire to laugh. 

"Do not forget that life is a battle, " continued the General. "Do notshut yourself up in your happiness, but be always on your guard. .. !"

"I drink to you, Lady Esperance, who bear a name of hope for thefuture, for you will certainly understand that the most beautiful roleto play is that of wife and mother, which has nothing to do with yourtheatrical fictions. .. . "

Esperance rose, but Albert restrained her, looking at his mother. Thecharming woman said tactfully, "My good friend, I think that you havespoken according to your own convictions. Esperance will conductherself always as seems best to her. "

"How kind you are, Madame!" And the young girl went and kissed herhand. 

This little incident had interfered with the quiet of the evening. ButEsperance resumed her serenity, as she understood that her futuremother-in-law had quite recognized the possibility that she mightremain faithful to her art. 

As to Maurice, the Baron had put him in such spirits that he wassparkling with wit, and the dinner ended in the most delightfulcamaraderie and good feeling. Esperance, before they had time to askher, went gaily to the piano; Albert sat down beside her and beggedthat she would sing. 

She agreed sweetly, on condition that her fiancée should accompanyher. Her voice was very pure and clear, and she sang a simple balladwith exquisite taste. 

"You have no middle voice, " objected the Baron. 

"Quite true, " agreed Esperance with a silvery laugh; "you are terriblyfrank. "

When the girls were alone together finally, Genevieve complimented herfriend upon all that had happened. 

"You were adorably gracious, dear little Countess, and I believe inyour happiness!"

"No, Genevieve, " said Esperance, "I shall not be happy, I know it, except in so far as I can give happiness. I love Countess Styvens verydeeply. I am touched by Albert's love, I see that I shall be forced byloyalty to renounce the theatre; I shall be torn by regret, for I fearmy life will be spoiled, and I am not yet twenty!"

She was sitting on her bed, looking so forlorn that Genevieve slippeddown beside her and drew the little blonde head to her shoulder. 

"You, dear, " asked Esperance, "will you renounce the theatre ifMaurice tells you that he wishes it?"

"I shall not even wait for him to tell me. .. . If Maurice wishes me tobe his companion through life, I will sacrifice everything for him, with only one regret, that I have not enough to give up for him!"

"Oh!" said Esperance, miserably, "you are in love, but I am not. "

And the unhappy child, stifling her sobs, hid her head in the pillow. 

Two days later, the Countess, her son and the Baron left for Brussels. 

Madame Styvens had questioned Esperance very adroitly, and she leftPenhouet with a pretty good idea of her tastes and preferences. 

It was then the end of August, and the banns were to be published forNovember. The Baron was to arrange for the marriage in Brussels, butit was agreed that the young couple should live in Paris, and theCountess proposed to pick out a pretty house to shelter the happinessof her son. She herself would live in Paris; but she refused to sharetheir home. 

"I shall look for a house or an apartment near by. "

The adieux were tender on both sides. Esperance was so sensitive tothe charm of her mother-in-law that it made her seem devoted to herfiancée. .. . 

CHAPTER XXI

The news of the engagement of Esperance and the Count Styvens wasknown all over Paris. Letters came to the farm of Penhouet, done up inpackets. Many expressed to the philosopher and his wife their joy athearing that their daughter had decided to leave a career so . .. Sovery . .. In which . .. In fact that. .. ! Every absurd prejudice, sopuritanly ingrained in the minds of most middle class divisions andsections and even amongst the more cultivated, was endlessly repeatedupon with the usual banalities in the large correspondence of theirfriends and others. Poor actors, so misunderstood! so misrepresented!The philosopher showed all the letters to Esperance, who shrugged hershoulders, astonished to find there was so much prejudice in the worldagainst her beloved calling. One letter, however, she took quiteseriously. It was written by the most eminent of all the Academicians. One sentence in the epistle wounded the poor child very deeply. "Now Ishall be able to go about your election with more confidence andsecurity. Dare I admit to you, my dear Professor, that the onlyobstacle I encountered, and which seemed to me insurmountable, was thecareer chosen by that lovely child, your daughter, whose talent we alladmire so much! Now I can start my campaign, and I am very sure, mydear Darbois, of achieving our ambition without much difficulty. Therefore, perhaps, I shall not altogether deserve your thanks. "

What Genevieve had said was patently true; her father had sacrificedhis dearest hope for her, and he had done it so all unostentatiously. .. . Ah! how she loved her father, who was unlike other men! He was standingthere before her, smiling, a little scornful of all these little souls. And as he handed her another letter--"No, father dear, no, I beg you. Pardon me the wrong that I have been doing you; I admire you and I loveyou, dear papa, but leave me with the noble feeling of your supremekindness; I would rather not know any more of the little meannesses ofthe world. "

She climbed on her father's knees and covered his forehead withkisses. 

"Look, " said Mme. Darbois, holding up a letter "eight pages from yourgodfather. "

Esperance jumped up laughing, "That I certainly shall not read. "

"I am going to write to the Countess that I give up my art. .. . " Andswift as a shadow she was gone. 

The philosopher sat hesitating, his expression troubled. Had he theright to compel this sacrifice, knowing, realizing, as he did, thathis child had based all the happiness of her life on the career shewas now voluntarily giving up for his sake? Germaine looked at himquestioningly. 

"Do you believe, my dear, that I ought to let Esperance write to theCountess, as she proposes? I fear that she is making this sacrifice togratify my vanity. "

"François!" exclaimed Mme. Darbois indignantly. 

"My pride, if you prefer it, " he said. "But what is such asatisfaction in comparison with the happiness of a life? To me itseems very unjust!"

Germaine adored her husband and her daughter, but she believed more, than in anything in the world, in the noble genius of the philosopher. 

"Esperance's sacrifice, " she said, "is very slight. She is making asuperb marriage into one of the noblest, richest families in Belgium. Albert worships the ground she walks on. The Countess will be morethan indulgent to her. She is realizing the most perfect future ayoung girl can hope for. I see nothing to regret, because she ismaking a slight concession to her father. "

François looked a little sadly at this mother who had nevercomprehended her daughter's psychology. He knew that for this sweetwoman the happiness of life began with her husband and ended with him. 

He did not want to argue and rose, saying, "I must do some work. "

Ho kissed the unlined forehead of his beloved wife, and then as he wasleaving the room added, "Tell Esperance I should like to see herletter before she sends it. "

Esperance sat at her desk in her own room, but she sat with her headin her hands, unable to begin her letter. Presently Genevieve came in. 

"Is anything the matter, dear?"

Esperance told her what had just happened downstairs. 

"I have learned once more that all your reasonings and counsels arealways wise, dear sister. .. . I am sitting trying how to write to theCountess to tell her that I am not going back to the stage!"

Genevieve kissed her. Esperance let her head fall on her friend'sbosom, and raising her eyes to her face, said slowly, "But oh! I havenot the courage. "

Genevieve knelt beside the desk, and dipping the pen in the ink, put afresh sheet of paper before Esperance, saying with a laugh, "Mlle. , get on with your task. I am the school mistress to see that you writeproperly!"

The smile she brought to Esperance's lips chased away the nebulousuncertainties, and so she wrote her letter to her dear little"Countess-mama, " as she had called her since her engagement. When hermother came with the philosopher's message and saw the letter, she wasdelighted with the phrasing and thanked her daughter warmly for thejoy it would give her father. 

"Ah! mama, I believe that I am the happiest of the three Darbois, dearridiculous mama!" And she gave her a quick embrace. 

Life was again travelling the simple, daily country round. It wasafter lunch, three days after Esperance had written her letter. 

"Why so pensive, little daughter? Where were your thoughts?"

Esperance jumped up at this question from her father. 

"I was dreaming. I am so sorry. I was in Belgium, near the CountessStyvens when my letter would be brought in to her, for, as nearly as Ican make out, it ought to arrive to-day. "

"No, " said M. Darbois, "that letter has not been delivered; it isstill in my desk. "

Their faces expressed the great astonishment that they felt. 

"You did not like it, papa?"

"Very much, very much. It is quite good--and--and pathetic. "

"Then, darling papa?"

"I want to talk with you a little more before you send it. "

Everyone drank their coffee a little quicker, and five minutes laterFrançois found himself alone with his daughter. Even Mme. Darbois hadwithdrawn, afraid that she might show her own anxiety too much. 

"I am listening to you, papa. "

"You are going to answer my questions with perfect frankness, Esperance?"

"Yes, father. "

"Had you thought of writing to Countess Styvens before you read thatletter?"

He drew the Academician's letter from his portfolio and placed itbefore her. 

"No, father, dear. "

"Then it was on my account, and to facilitate my admittance to theAcademy, that you wrote?"

"Oh! no, " replied Esperance quickly, "I would not do you thatinjustice, knowing how much you love me, and knowing the purity ofyour heart, the nobility of your ambition. I am sacrificing what Ibelieve, perhaps wrongly, to be my happiness, to the demands of amisunderstanding world. I knew, when I read that letter, that I had noright to drag a man of your merit, my dear mother, and all the family, into the troubles of a life in which they have no real interest. I didnot want you to have the sympathy of the world. Sympathy is too oftenakin to scorn!"

François would have spoken, but Esperance interrupted him. 

"Oh! father darling. You are so good. Don't torment me further, sendthe letter. I am still so new to this role. I need your sincere, yourconstant help. "

Just then Marguerite came in and handed the philosopher a letter, bearing an armorial seal, which had just come from Palais. He quicklyopened it, seemed surprised and passed it to his daughter. 

"What! The Duchess de Castel-Montjoie is at Palais, " she said. Thenshe read: "My dear Philosopher, the Princess and I will come, ifagreeable to you, after five. I name this hour because the Princess'syacht has to leave to take up friends who are waiting for us at Brehat. "

"What time is it?" said Esperance, turning round. 

The professor consulted his watch. 

"Twenty minutes past three. Quick, Marguerite, tell the men to harnessthe victoria with the two horses at once. "

A quarter of an hour later the carriage was ready to leave. When ithad disappeared round the corner from the farm, Genevieve and herfriend prepared to go for a walk. Esperance told her mother and Mlle. Frahender that they would be back again in half an hour. They climbeddown the cliff, and were soon out of earshot of everyone--they werequite alone. "Genevieve, Genevieve, " said Esperance, "I feel that anew danger is threatening me, ready to destroy all my new illusions. Do not leave me, darling. "

"What is it that you fear?"

"I can only be sure of one thing, I am in such horrible distress, andthat is that the Duke de Morlay-La-Branche is at the bottom of thisvisit. Ah! if I could be sure that I should never see him again, never, never!. .. "

And she cried in her great distress like a little child. 

Genevieve stayed at her side, without saying a word, only stroking herhands from time to time. Presently Esperance grew calmer. 

"Come, " she said, rising from the boulder on which they had seatedthemselves. "We must dress to receive the enemy's emissaries. " Hervoice was light, but her heart was heavy. 

Maurice, who had been strolling not far off with Jean, came up andnoticing Esperance's tearful eyes, said: "What is the matter?"

"I dread this visit, " exclaimed Esperance. 

"What is the reason of this sudden call?" ejaculated Maurice. 

"I think I can guess, " said the actor. 

"Well, tell me!"

"But if I should be wrong?" said Jean. 

"What a frightful lot of circumlocution, " cried Maurice impatiently, pretending to tear out his hair. 

But Esperance replied, "No, Jean, you are not mistaken. I can guessyour thoughts. I am afraid, as I just now said to Genevieve, that theDuke de Morlay-La-Branche is connected in some way with this visit ofthe Princess and her friend!"

"If the Duke comes here, but I do not believe he will, Jean and I willnot leave him alone a minute. I assure you that he will get more ofour company than he will appreciate. But, knowing that the Count isnot here, I do not think he will come. He is too correct for that!Come, let us dance in honour of Albert!"

Taking his cousin's hands and Genevieve's, he nodded his head to Jeanto do the same thing, and led them into a whirlwind dance upon thesands of the beach, until the girls laughed as though no heavythoughts were weighing in their hearts. 

Two hours later the victoria arrived from Palais. The young peoplecould see that it contained only two ladies and the philosopher, andGenevieve breathed again. 

The Princess descended lightly before the front door. She kissedEsperance, and after speaking to Mme. Darbois, had Maurice, Jean andGenevieve presented to her. 

"You did the portrait of which the Duke de Morlay has spoken sohighly?"

Maurice bowed. 

"Would it be impertinence if I asked you to let me see it?" she saidwith a smile. 

"I thank you, Madame; you flatter me by your request. "

The Dowager Duchess, with whom the Princess had been spending threeweeks at her Château of Castel-Montjoie, was now presented to Mme. Darbois. She was a lovable and delightful old lady, with a greatappreciation of art and science. Both ladies had been present with theDuke at the last Conservatoire competition, and they expressed toEsperance, Genevieve and Jean the enjoyment their performances hadgiven them. The Duchess was much struck by Genevieve's proud beauty, and said to Maurice, "Ah! Monsieur, what another beautiful portraityou could make! This young lady is much more beautiful close to thaneven on the stage!" And she added a kind and appreciative word for theclassic talent of Jean Perliez. 

Tea was to be served in the little beautiful convolvulus garden. Whenthey entered this shelter, which a poet might have designed, theDuchess exclaimed enviously, "What a heavenly spot. Who is theinspired person who has arranged this mysterious flowery retreat foryou?"

The philosopher pointed to Maurice and the girls. 

The Princess admired it, and the conversation rippled on. "We are cometo trouble your bower with a plea for charity! Every year, the Duchessgives a garden party in her beautiful park at Montjoie for the benefitof the 'Orphans of the Fishermen. ' There is a little open-air theatre, where some of the greatest actors have appeared. Little rustic booths, shops where you pay a great deal for nothing at all, and a thousandother distractions. We are come, the Duchess and I, drawn by a verypretty star, Esperance. She will not deny us her light, our lovelylittle star?" she concluded, bending towards Esperance. 

"But, Madame, " murmured Esperance, "my decision--my promises do notdepend on myself alone, now. "

The Duchess extracted a letter from her gold mesh bag and held ittowards her. 

"You are perfectly right, my dear child, " she said easily. "I alsoforesaw that objection, so I wrote to your fiancé, even beforespeaking to you, for which I must apologize, and here is his answer. "

Esperance read the little missive bearing the Styvens's arms andhanded it back to the Duchess. 

"I will not be, " she said smiling sadly, "more royalist than the king. Madame, I am at the service of your work. "

This was a great delight to the two kindly disposed women, but theyoung girl's heart was torn because her fiancé would not see! It istrue that his letter ended with the words, "I agree with both hands towhatever Esperance shall decide, " so that little choice was left. 

The garden party was to be the twentieth of September. It was then theend of August. 

"And of what nature is to be the modest contribution I can make toyour fête?" asked Esperance, half humorously. 

"Modest! Of course you will be the principal attraction. My guests, knowing that they will see you for the last time before Count Styvenscarries his little idol away from the public. .. . "

Esperance was saying to herself, "so this cultivated, broad-mindedlady thinks just as the others do. "

The Princess continued, "We want you to play with your fiancé theLiszt symphonic poem that you played one evening at the Legation; andto take part in some tableaux vivants that we are all to appear in. TheDuke de Morlay-La-Branche is directing and staging this part of theprogramme. The performance will be given only by people we know--noprofessionals. "

The Princess had spoken quite quickly, without reflection. She blushedslightly when she remembered Esperance and Jean Perliez, but she hadmade the mistake and there was no way of calling it back. She thoughtthat Esperance belonged to that circle where a compliment effaces whatmight seem like an impertinence. 

At first the name of the Duke de Morlay had fallen like a pebble inthe stream and began to ripple the waters; a spreading circle ofthoughts, fears, resentments began to move in every heart. Thephilosopher himself was troubled, for he had been prompted by Mauriceto observe the assiduous attractions of the Duke, and the agitation hecaused Esperance whenever they had been together. Esperance andGenevieve both grew pale. The young painter raised his head, ready forsome sort of a return reply. Without hesitation he had decided on theplan to follow. He must not only be invited to the fête, which wouldbe easy enough; he must take part in it, so as to be able to shadowand watch the manoeuvres of the over agreeable Duke. 

"If you will allow me, Madame, " he said boldly, "I should like tocontribute my mite to your fête by painting the scenery?"

The Princess clapped her hands with delight at the suggestion and thisnew support. 

"How pleased my cousin de Morlay will be, " she exclaimed. "He has justbeen saying to me, 'For the scenery we shall require a painter, a realartist. '"

"A professional, " said Maurice, bowing ironically. 

The Princess was somewhat provoked, but she appeared not to notice therather pointed remark. 

"You might also design the costumes for the tableaux vivants, " shecontinued. 

"My cousin, " exclaimed Esperance, "has a great gift for arrangementand composition. You will be able to judge for yourself soon; I willshow you how beautifully he has painted my portrait. "

"True. May we see it now?"

This made a welcome change for the four young people. They all wenttowards the "Five Divisions of the World. " The Duchess stopped everynow and then on the way to admire the sea and the luminous quality ofthe air. She was really amazed when she was shown the picture. It hadbeen installed in the little court, under a kind of alcove thatMaurice had made for it. He had found in his aunt's "reliquary" somepretty hangings which hid the alcove, and the picture lost nothing bythe arrangement of drapery. 

"You have indeed a beautiful portrait there, " said the Princesssincerely. "Every year for his birthday I give my husband some work ofart. If you do not find me too unworthy a subject it shall be signedthis year, 'Maurice Renaud. '"

The young man bowed. "I shall be very happy indeed, Madame, and veryhighly honoured. "

"Then, as our friend and collaborator, " said the Duchess, "you must, Ithink, come with us at once so as to be able to get to work with theDuke without delay. "

"Give me time to pack by bag, Madame, " returned the triumphantMaurice, "and I will join you at the carriage. "

"I will come and help with your packing, cousin. You will excuse me?"she added turning to the Princess. 

And Esperance, followed by Genevieve and Jean Perliez disappearedtogether. 

As soon as she was sure she was out of ear-shot Esperance threw herarms about her cousin's neck. "You were simply wonderful. "

"Yes, " joined in Maurice, "the enemy has fallen into the ambush, asBaron van Berger would say. I will be back as soon as possible, but Imust take time to rout our amiable Duke. He is the real enemy, and themost difficult opponent, but I am confident. With my most diabolicalscheming, little cousin, I am going to have great fun. All the same, Iforesee that I sha'n't be able to stay away long. " And he kissedGenevieve's hand tenderly. 

They soon finished the packing, and Jean closed the suitcase, and theyoung people arrived at the carriage just as it drew up. 

"How very good it is of you to accept this sudden demand upon yourservices with such good grace!"

"I must remind you, Madame, that I suggested the work myself and I amglad to do it. I am also quite happy to be carried off by you, as itis such an unlooked-for pleasure. "

Two days later the professor had a letter from Maurice, which he readaloud to the family as they drank their coffee. 

"My dear Uncle, --This letter is to be shared by the whole community. Ihave found a world gone mad in this magnificent château. We aretwenty-two at table. I have been cordially welcomed by all thestrangers, to whom this cursed Duke, delightful fellow, has graciouslypresented me. I set to work at once to unravel and discover the plansof Charles de Morlay. But more anon. This is the programme: anorchestra composed of excellent artists are to play while the guestsarrive, inspect each other, and take their places. We begin with alittle ballet, entitled, _The Moon in Search of Pierrot_, actedand danced by some very good amateurs. I am to paint the drop for thisballet, and the authors (it has taken three of them to elaborate thestupidest scenario you ever yawned through) have called for aScandinavian design and I have promised it, and shall paint it atPenhouet. Then, the great attraction, the tableaux vivants. That iswhere I lay in wait for our astute Duke. I will spare you details ofnine of the tableaux. There are to be twelve, but Esperance appearsonly in three, which are the best. In one she represents Andromedafastened to the rock, and Perseus (the Duke) delivers her afterovercoming the dragon. In the second, the 'Judgment of Paris, ' sheappears as Aphrodite, to whom Paris (the Duke) gives the apple. Thethird is 'Europa and the Bull, ' Europa being personified by Esperance. The Duke does not wish to look ridiculous in a bull's hide, so takesliberties with the legend and transforms the bull into a centaur. Ihave said 'Amen' to everything. Finally to complete the fête, whichwill no doubt be well attended and very profitable, there will belittle shops of all kinds. Esperance is to sell flowers from theDuchess's gardens. I have my own idea on this point, which I shalllater confide to you. I can easily get her fiancé to agree. Yournephew, dear uncle, should live in the land of honey for the future. Ihave already had orders for three portraits, and of three prettywomen, which assures me that the portraits will be successful. Ahem! Iam taking all my notes to-day and will be with you the day afterto-morrow. It is up to you, dear uncle, to distribute in unequal orsuitable doses my respects and love and affection amongst all thoseanxious to receive such privileges. Your affectionately devoted, Maurice. "

"It seems to me, " said Genevieve, as she left the dining-room withEsperance, "that your cousin has arranged everything very well, andthat you ought to be quite happy and content. "

"Oh! I know very well that I shall be taken care of, but how can Istruggle against the tumultuous ideas that assail me? The vision ofthe Duke has haunted me ever since Maurice left. I have never seen thechâteau, but I am sure that I shall recognize it. I would like to fallill with some complaint that would send me to sleep and sleep. Oh! ifI could get a little ugly for a little while, just long enough to makethe Duke lose interest in me, I should be so glad. Dear Genevieve, can't you give me a little dose of the elixir of your happiness. Ineed it sorely just now. "

The girls had been walking as they talked down to the little beach atPenhouet. The sea was at low tide, and the golden sand, dried by thesun, offered them a restful couch. They stretched themselves out uponit, and Esperance soon fell asleep. Jean Perliez appeared on the crestof the little hill that hides the bay from the sightseeker. Genevievesigned to him to come down quietly. He had a telegram, a dispatch fromBelgium. He pinned it to Esperance's hat lying on the sand at herside, and dropping down close to Genevieve, began to talk in lowtones. For both he and Genevieve were uneasy concerning their littlefriend. 

A farm dog at the moment began to bark furiously. Esperance wokequickly, looking pale and worried, with her hands pressed on herfrightened heart. She saw the telegram and opened it quickly. 

"Albert will be here this evening by the second boat. What time isit?" She showed a little emotion, but only a little, though she feltdeeply. 

She looked towards the sun. 

"It can't be four yet. "

Jean took out his watch. 

"Twenty to four, " he said. 

"The boat can't get here before five-thirty. Quick, quick, run, Jean, and ask to have some conveyance got ready. I must go and tell myfather and get his permission to go with you and Genevieve to meet myfiancée. Ah! what good luck!" she said with a long breath, "What goodluck!"

François Darbois was delighted for his daughter to go and meet Albert, and departed so radiantly that he said to his wife, "I believe she isgetting to love this brave Albert?"

Genevieve, who had heard, as had also Jean, said to the young man in alow voice, "But, my God! suppose she is beginning to love the Duke?"

CHAPTER XXII

The boat approached the little quay of Palais slowly with CountStyvens standing well forward, his tall figure silhouetted against thegrey of the sea. He caught sight of Esperance immediately, as shestood up in the brake, waving her handkerchief. Great happiness was inhis heart, and in his haste to be ashore, he went to assist them tolay down the gangplank, and was at the carriage in a second, kissingmost tenderly the hand Esperance held out to him. A great basket wasplaced on the seat. The girls blushed with pleasure, for a sweet odourwas wafted to them from it. 

All the way home Esperance heard from Albert in detail all that hadhappened to him since she had last seen him. She talked incessantly, as if to drown her thoughts under a sea of nonsense. At the farm theyoung man could see the pleasure they all showed at his return. Ofcourse he was somewhat astonished to learn that Maurice was absentwith the Duchess, for he had not yet heard of the events that hadhappened during his absence. 

They all gathered together in the dining-room. The Count took out ofhis pocket a little case, and asking Esperance to give him her hand, slipped on to her middle finger a magnificent engagement ring. Somehowher hand went cold as death as Albert held it, and her face contractedstrangely. 

"Do you regret your word already, Esperance?" he asked in a nervous, low voice. 

"No, no, Albert, " she said quickly, nervously twisting the ring on herfinger, "but this is a very serious moment, and you know that Iincline to taking things seriously here, " and she put her hand acrossher heart. Then she smiled, pressed his hand, and showed the ring toGenevieve. They all examined and admired the beautiful jewel. When thephilosopher turned to praise it Albert had disappeared. 

The basket was opened revealing a bouquet of magnificent whiteorchids, marvellously fresh, held in a white scarf with embroideredends. 

When they assembled for dinner an hour later Esperance was notpresent, and Albert began to look uneasy. But they had not long towait, and when she did appear she was dressed all in white, anembroidered scarf fastened about her waist, and several orchidsarranged like a coronet in her hair. At that moment she seemed almostsupernaturally beautiful. 

"What a pity that Maurice is not here! You are so lovely thisevening, " said Genevieve. 

"Oh, " said Esperance smiling, "that is not the only reason you regrethis absence?"

Next day they were surprised to get no word from the painter to tellthem which boat he would take. It was warm and they had coffee servedin the convolvulus bower. The breeze came through an opening from thesea. 

"Look! isn't that a pretty boat?" cried out Genevieve. 

A white yacht was sailing slowly towards Penhouet. The philosopher gothis glasses. 

"It is the Princess's flag, " he exclaimed. 

"Yes, yes, " agreed Albert, "it is the Belgian flag. Listen, there isthe salute. "

Jean ran to the farm, calling back, "I will answer it. All right, M. Darbois?"

The flag sank and rose three times, then the yacht headed straight forthe little bay. Genevieve climbed on a high rock and clapped herhands. "It is he, oh! it is he. "

She turned radiantly back to the party in the grove. Her "It is he"made Albert smile. It was so charming, so sincere that they all sharedthe quality of her joy. 

It was indeed Maurice returning on the Princess's yacht. The tide wasso high that the boat could get quite close. 

Everyone went down to the beach where the waves were washing thelittle rocks. Albert jumped on the largest rock which seemed to recedeto sea with him. Genevieve would have followed him but he cried out, "Look out, it is very deep here. "

She stayed where she was, but so woebegone did her face become thatAlbert leapt ashore again, and before she knew what he was doing, picked her up, and was back on the slippery rock with her. 

"Oh! the bold lad!" said the Professor. 

The little sloop had been launched and Maurice could easily land onthe big rock. He kissed Genevieve, and told the Count of his delightin seeing him again. Then he looked around him. The water surroundedthem on all sides. He looked at Genevieve questioningly, but by way ofresponse Albert simply picked her up again and went ashore with her. Maurice was quick and agile, he was even strong in a nervous way, butAlbert's strength and agility filled him with wonder. 

Esperance congratulated the Count on his prowess and his kind thoughtin enabling Genevieve to see Maurice a little sooner. 

"It is because I know what that joy is myself, " he answered simply. 

Esperance's eyes grew moist as she turned to Albert. 

"You are so good, you always do the right thing. I am prouder everyday to be loved by you. "

During dinner Maurice gave them an account of all that had happened tohim, with many new incidents. 

"I am not telling you anything new, " he added to Albert when they werealone. "You know as well as I do that the Duke is in love withEsperance. We all know it here. "

Albert agreed with a rather sad smile that he did know it. 

"Now that my cousin is your fiancée, he is too much of a gentleman toseek her, but he certainly wants to be near her, to talk to her, inshort to flirt with her. "

"You believe that he would dare?"

"My dear cousin, " said Maurice, half jestingly, half serious. "Ibelieve him capable of anything, but he knows that you are here . .. Andperhaps is afraid to take liberties. "

"To put an end to his manoeuvrings we must somehow make him lookridiculous, and expose his folly. The fête, I think, will give us ourchance. "

Albert said, "I will follow your advice, Maurice. "

"Very good. I will give you particulars of my plans. By the way, Ihave brought all your invitations. I will go and deliver them. " Sothey went to seek the others, and Maurice gave each one a card with apersonal invitation for the twentieth of September. Genevieve blushed. 

"I am invited as well, " she said. 

"Of course; and I believe the amiable Duchess intends to ask you torecite the poem she has written. It is very touching. I will find itfor you to-morrow. Ah! yes, you have made a great impression on thatdelightful lady. She talked about you to me all the time. You wouldhave supposed she was doing it to please me. "

Genevieve became purple. It was the first time Maurice had expressedhimself so frankly. When they left the table she led Esperance asideand kissed her until she almost stifled her. 

"Oh! how happy I am, and how I love him!"

Maurice and Jean passed by talking so busily that they did not see thegirls. 

"You are sure?"

"Absolutely. Since I have been away for four whole days I am convincedmore than ever that I adore that girl and shall not be happy withouther. "

"You have written to your father?"

"Not yet. I must first of all talk to Genevieve. "

"You are not afraid of what she will say? Of her answer?"

Maurice smiled. 

"I want first to tell her of my future plans, and to have aconfidential chat with her about everything. "

"You will be my best man, old fellow, " he went on, clapping Jean onthe shoulder. "You have chosen the role of actor, with the temperamentof a spectator; strange lover!"

"Like any other man I follow my Destiny. You were born for happiness, Maurice, one has only to look at you to be convinced of it. Youbreathe forth life, you love, you conquer. Youth radiates from you. Ihave asked myself a hundred times why I have chosen this career, and Iam persuaded that I must live, if at all, the life of others. "

"Are you very upset--unhappy?" asked Maurice. 

"No, oh no; I don't suffer much, but of course I am a littledisturbed. I am like a reflection. Esperance's happiness elates, hersorrow depresses me. I love her purely as an idealist. I would likeCount Albert to look like the Duke de Morlay-La-Branche, and stillkeep the noble soul that we know he possesses. If your cousin shoulddie, I truly believe that I would die. My life would be without aim, without soul; bereft of light, the reflection would vanish. "

They walked slowly down to the beach to join Albert and the girls. Thenight had broken soft and limpid, full of stars, full of dreams. Theysat down on the sand, silently admiring the prospect. The waves brokeregularly as if scanning the poem of silence. A fresh scent rose fromthe rocks which were clothed with sea moss. Far away a dog wasbarking. The young people were silent, united in a mood of wonderbefore the depths and lights of the night. 

PART IV. THE CHÂTEAU

CHAPTER XXIII

On the fifteenth of September the girls had to tear themselves awayfrom their quiet retreat at Belle-Isle, and leave Penhouet and allelse to travel with Mlle. Frahender, Jean and Maurice to the Châteaude Montjoie. When they arrived there, at ten in the evening, Esperancerecognised the Duke in the distance as soon as the carriage stopped. He was looking out of one of the great windows above the terrace. Hewas, in fact, awaiting the coming of Esperance. But he pretended notto have seen the carriage and continued to gaze up at the stars. Esperance trembled and her lips were icy cold. Albert had also seenthe Duke, and was not deceived by his attitude. He had resolved to becalm, but a sullen, unbidden anger arose within him. 

When the housekeeper had installed the two girls in a tower of theChâteau, she left with them a little Breton peasant girl. 

"She will be devoted to your service, " she said. "Her name isJeanette. Her room is above yours and, when you ring this bell, shewill wait upon you at once. "

Esperance threw herself on her bed, still dressed, for her heart wasoverflowing. 

"Ah! why, why is Albert so trusting? Why did he let me come here?Would it not have been better to have run the risk of offending theDuchess?"

And when Genevieve tried to reason with her, "I am suffering, littlesister, " she replied, "I am so unhappy; for the sight of the Duke atthe window distressed me. I tremble at the idea of seeing him again, and yet I long for the time when I can give him my hand. "

"But this is serious, " said Genevieve. "I thought you had recoveredfrom all that nonsense, or rather, I thought you would be lessaffected. "

She helped Esperance to undress. The poor child let her do so withouta word. 

She slept badly, haunted by dreams and troubled with nightmare. At sixo'clock in the morning she woke up feverishly, and rang for the maid. 

The little Breton appeared five minutes later, her eyes still full ofsleep, her cap crooked. 

 "Will you get me a little warm water?" asked Esperance. "It is coldfrom the tap. "

"It is too early, I am afraid. Mademoiselle must please to wait alittle. "

"Well, be as quick as you can, please. I want to go for a walk in thepark while there is no one about. "

The little Breton laughed. "You won't run any danger of finding anyoneat this hour. What will the ladies take for breakfast?"

"Two cups of chocolate, please, " said Genevieve, beginning to get up. 

"Be so good as to make haste, Jeanette, get us our hot water and ourchocolate, like a good girl and say nothing to anyone. "

Jeanette looked in the mirror, adjusted her cap, put back a stray lockof hair, and opened the door. But she stopped, looking at the girlscraftily. 

"Which way were you going, Mademoiselle?"

"That all depends. Which way is the prettiest?"

"When you leave the Château you must turn to your right and walk tothe first thicket. About ten minutes through the thicket and you willcome out on the big terrace. That is where they always take the guestsand say how beautiful it is!"

"Thank you, " said Genevieve, "to the right, then the thicket and theterrace. We aren't likely to meet anyone?"

"Nobody is abroad but the cats at this hour, and. .. . "

Outside the door she made a face like a mischievous child who had justplayed a trick. Running rapidly across the long corridors, she mountedto the second storey, opened an ante-chamber which led to another roomand knocked lightly. The Duke opened the door. 

"You here, Jeanette! What is it?"

"My godfather, " she said very low, "the young ladies are getting upnow, and I think they are going to walk in the grove to the right ofthe Château. "

"They are going . .. Alone?"

"Certainly. No one else is awake, but they may be going to meet theirlovers. "

"Why did you come to tell me yourself, instead of sending my man?"

"Because he is a lazy fellow who would have taken an hour to dress andthen would have told a lie and said I told him too late. "

"Very well, run along now, and don't get caught. "

So Jeanette sped quickly towards the kitchen to get the hot water in agreat copper can, which she half emptied on the way to ease theweight. 

As soon as they were dressed, Esperance and Genevieve made quick workof their chocolate, and started out. It was very still. 

"It is the Sleeping Beauty's wood, " said Esperance. 

They went towards the grove they saw on their right. At the entranceto it Esperance closed her parasol and stopped suddenly, pressingGenevieve's hand. 

"Some one has been here already. "

They both stopped motionless, listening. Not a sound. They slowlycontinued on their way, but the thicket did not lead to the terrace, and ended in a little enclosed dell. On a pedestal a figure of _Lovein Chains_ overlooked a stone bench. 

"We have lost our way, " said Genevieve. "Let us go back. "

"No it is charming here. Let us go on to the bench. I am a littletired and my heart is beating so. .. . What was that?"

She put her companion's hand above her heart. 

"Why what is the matter with you. Why are you so nervous?"

"Ah!" replied Esperance, with great apprehension of she knew not what, "I feel as if I could not struggle. .. . The presence in this house ofthe Duke de Morlay overcomes me. I don't know whether that is love;but at least it tells me that I do not love Albert. Come dear, let usrest a moment. "

Just then a man stepped out from the thicket and barred their way. 

The Duke stood before them. 

Esperance uttered one cry and fell in a faint. 

The Duke started forward to catch her, but Genevieve repulsed him. 

"It is a cowardly trick you have played on us, sir. I understand nowthat we did not lose our way but were duped by your orders. "

As she spoke, she was trying to support Esperance, but almost fallingherself under the weight of the inert body. She cried at her ownimpotence, but she was obliged to accept the Duke's help to getEsperance as far as the marble bench. 

"Try, " she said holding out Esperance's tiny handkerchief, "to get mea little water. "

"Instantly, Mademoiselle . .. There is a fountain near at hand. "

When he came back Genevieve moistened the poor child's temples. TheDuke was very pale. 

"Mademoiselle, believe me that I am greatly upset at what hashappened. I had no idea. .. !"

"I shall be very glad to excuse you. Esperance looks a little better, had you not better go away?"

"But I cannot leave you all alone like this. "

He took Esperance's hand, and it seemed to him that warmth came backinto it. 

Esperance opened her eyes. Still half unconscious, she looked at himcuriously, then she cried sharply out, "Have mercy, go away, go away!"

And she gave way to hysterical sobs. 

The Duke said humbly, "I will leave you. "

And then kneeling before her, "Forgive me, I am going; I am leavingyou . .. But I entreat you to forgive me. "

He was sincere in what he said. Both girls felt it. 

Esperance had risen gently. 

"I am betrothed to Count Styvens, " she said. "You know that. I knowthat my emotion just now was foolish, but I am sick at heart and I amnot always able to control myself. You are good, I see that. Pleasehelp me to cure myself. I will be grateful to you all my life. "

"I give you my word. .. . " his voice trembled. "I will make myself. .. . "and he went away. 

As soon as they were left alone the two girls took counsel as to whatcourse they should pursue. Esperance, in despair, threw herself onGenevieve's judgment, and Genevieve asked permission to consultMaurice. 

"Could we not keep it as a secret?"

"I am afraid, darling, that that would not be right. We are sure ofMaurice's discretion, and we need advice as well as help. "

Esperance looked at her companion. 

"How could the Duke have known? Oh! I suppose the little Breton girlwho waits on us was the culprit. We must get rid of her. We have onlythree days to spend here, and then, too, I am sure that the Duke willkeep his word. I was struck by his pallor, and his eyes when he lookedat you were full of tears, but I believe he was sincere; there is lessto fear from staying than fleeing perhaps, since we know that. Let usgo back. "

She helped her dear little friend to get up and they returned to thehouse as they had come. Mademoiselle Frahender was just coming out tolook for them. 

"Here we are, little lady, don't scold, " said Esperance playfully. 

The little old lady shook her head chidingly. 

"You do not look well, my child. You are up too early. Six o'clock, that pert little Breton told me, when I found her fumbling in ourtrunks. When I told her that I was going to complain of her she said, 'Oh! don't do that, Madame, my godfather, the Duke de Morlay, wouldnever forgive me!"

The girls looked at each other. 

"I promise to say nothing, but you must watch her carefully. "

They were just going in when Maurice joined them, out of breath. 

"Hello! cousin. Where do you spring from?"

"I have been looking for you for half an hour to give you theprogramme, edited by Jean and enlivened by your humble servant. Hereyou are, and here you are, naughty lady, who gives no word of warningto her lover of early morning escapades. "

"Oh! Maurice, it was I who led Genevieve astray, and I am doublyrepentant. She will tell you why. "

Maurice grew serious. 

"What means that haggard face, cousin, and the collar of your dress isall wet? Come, come, Genevieve herself seems ill at ease. I would liketo know what you two have been up to. "

"Well! take her into that grove, you will find a bench there, and shewill tell you all about it. I am going to rest, " replied Esperance. 

Genevieve and Maurice sat down in the grove. After she had told himwhat had happened, she added, "What seems to me to make it reallyserious is that I believe the Duke to be in earnest. "

"Love and flirtation often look alike, " said the young man shrugginghis shoulders. 

"I don't think so, " said the girl with conviction, and continuedsadly, "Esperance is fighting against this infatuation with all herstrength, but I am very uneasy. And if the Duke should love her enoughto offer to marry her!"

"You think that likely?"

"What can resist love? Tell me that. "

And her beautiful eyes, swimming with tears, looked anxiously, trustingly into the young man's face. 

"I tell you what I truly believe. And that is, that Esperance lovesthe Duke. "

The young painter meditated for a long time. 

"Come on, we must go back, " he said finally. "We must get ready forthe rehearsal. " He left the girl with exhortations to reason with hiscousin. 

"What the deuce is our will for if we can't exercise it?"

"Maurice, I am brave and determined, you know that. My sister and Ihave struggled unaided, she since she was thirteen! I since I waseight. I thought that she was enough to fill all my life, and now. .. . "

"And now, " he asked tenderly, taking her hand. 

"All my life is yours! I should not tell you this, but you can judgeby my doing so the impotence of will against. .. . "

She drew away her hand hastily, ran to the staircase and disappeared. He heard the door open and his cousin's voice saying, "How pale youare, Genevieve!"

"What are you dreaming about, Cousin Maurice?" said Albert, puttinghis hand gently on his shoulder. 

That hand felt to Maurice as heavy as remorse. 

"Let us go and see what is going on, " said the young painter. "Thereis Jean coming to look for us now. "

CHAPTER XXIV

In the great hall of the Château a charming theatre had been built. Everything was ready for the rehearsal. An enormous revolving platformheld three wooden squares which would serve as frames for the tableauxvivants. The mechanism had been arranged by an eminent Parisianengineer. A curtain decorated by Maurice served as background. Therewere eleven little dressing rooms, seven for the women, four for themen. 

Maurice saw the Duke seated straddlewise on a chair, and smoking acigarette. The three men went up to him before he was aware of theirpresence. At sound of Albert's voice he sprang to his feet, almost asif expecting an attack. His nostrils were dilated, his face set. In aninstant he resumed his usual manner, and shook hands with the youngmen. 

"You were asleep?" suggested the Count. 

"No, I was dreaming, and I think you must have figured in my dream. "

"Let us hear of the dream. "

"Oh! no, dreams ought not to be told!"

And he pretended to busy himself with some orders. 

The guests who were to take part in the tableaux vivants began slowlyto stream in. Maurice took Jean aside and told him what had happenedthat morning. 

"You must keep watch too. I am not going to leave the Duke. "

When Esperance and Genevieve came in, Maurice caught the Duke'sexpression in a mirror. He saw him move away and join a distant groupwhere he lingered chatting. Jean thought Esperance looked uneasy. Albert came up to her and kissed her hand. She smiled sadly. She waslooking for some one. The Duke had disappeared before she had seenhim. 

After a long discussion it was decided to have a dress rehearsal. Esperance was not in the first picture so she would have had ampletime to have dressed at leisure, but nevertheless she put her thingson quite feverishly. Her costume consisted only, it is true, of alight peplum over a flesh-coloured foundation. Genevieve helped her todress. In each dressing-room was one of Maurice's designs illustratingjust how the dress, hair, etc. , were to be arranged. For Andromeda, Esperance was to have bare feet, and wear on her hair a garland offlowers. 

The three first tableaux revolved before the Duke and his staff, composed of Albert, Jean, Maurice and some of the distinguishedguests; and the order was given to summon the artists for the secondset, which was composed of the next three pictures. 

The first tableaux of the second group represented Circe with thecompanions of Ulysses changed into swine. The marvellous Lady Rupperwas to represent Circe. She entered dramatically, half nude, her tunicopen to her waist, caught at intervals by diamond clasps, her peplumheld in place by a garland of bay leaves. She was very beautiful. Herhusband, a wealthy American, laughed at sight of her, a coarse laugh, the laugh of all Germans, even when Americanized. 

The second picture represented Judith and Holofernes. The beautifulbrunette, the Marquise de Chaussey, in a daring costume designed byMaurice, held in her hand a magnificent scimitar, the property ofMorlay-La-Branche. She was to pose, raising the curtain, as in thepicture of Regnault. 

The third picture was the deliverance of Andromeda. When Esperanceappeared, so slender, so fragile, her long hair waving in floods ofpale gold almost to the floor, a murmur of almost sacred admirationrang through the hall. Lady Rupper approached her, and taking thechild's hair in her hands, cried out, "Oh! my dear, it is morebeautiful than the American gold. "

The Duke came up to Esperance. 

"I should have preferred enchaining you to delivering you, Mademoiselle. "

"I can speak now in the person of Andromeda and thank you for thatdeliverance . .. Which you promised, " she answered with a little smile. 

She had spoken so low that only the Duke could hear the ending whichhe alone understood. He had promised to deliver her from his love, butat that instant he revolted against the thought and the admonition. 

"Why not?" he muttered to himself. "She must be happier with me thanwith that insufferable bore! I will keep my word until she herselfabsolves me from it. "

They had to arrange her pose against the rock. Maurice and Alberthelped her, while the Duke watched from a distance, and criticized theeffect. All at once he cried out, "That is perfect. Don't move. Nowthe mechanician must mark the place to set the fetters for the handsand feet. "

Maurice stepped back by the Duke to judge of the effect. 

"It is excellent, " he said, looking only, thinking only as an artist. "That child has a beauty of proportion, a dazzling grace, and the mostlovely face imaginable. "

As the Duke did not speak, Maurice looked at him. He was standingupright, leaning against a table, pale as death. 

"Are you ill?" asked Maurice. 

"No . .. No. .. . "

He passed his hand across his forehead and said in an unnatural voice, "Will you see to it please, that they do not leave her suspended thatway too long? Tell Albert to raise her head, it seems to me that sheis going to faint. "

He started forward. 

"I will go, " said Maurice, stopping him. 

When the machinist finished screwing the rings in the rock Mauriceasked whether it would not be better to repeat this tableaux at once. The Duke approved. The terrifying dragon was properly arranged on theground--the wonderful dragon which was the design of a renownedsculptor and perfectly executed by Gerard in papier maché. Perseus(the Duke) with one foot on the head of the vanquished monster, benttowards Andromeda. The breath of her half-opened mouth was hot on hislips, and he could hear the wild beating of her little heart. He feltan infinite tenderness steal over him, and when a tear trembled on theyoung girl's eyelashes he forgot everything, wiped the tear awaytenderly with the end of his finger and kissed it lovingly. Happilythe turning stage was almost out of sight and nobody except Genevievehad caught sight of the incident. 

Esperance breathed, "God, my God!"

The Duke raised the poor child, and said to her very low, "I love you, Esperance. "

She murmured, "You must not . .. You must not. "

While he was loosing her chains he continued, "I love you and I willdo anything to win your love. "

She strengthened herself desperately. 

"You do not need to do anything for it, alas!"

And she fled. 

When the Count came to find her, there was only the Duke talking tothe stage hands. 

"Where is Esperance?"

"I have no idea, " replied Charles de Morlay dryly. 

Albert turned on his heel, delighted to see the Duke out of humour. 

Genevieve caught up with Andromeda who was running away out of breath, seeing nothing, hearing nothing. Genevieve saw her enter the groveleading to the clearing and there she joined her. 

"Esperance, my darling, my little sister, stop, I beg you. "

Her voice calmed the girl. She caught hold of one of the branches andclung to it, gasping. 

"Genevieve, Genevieve, why am I here?"

Her eyes shone with a wild light. She seemed to be absolutely exalted. 

"He loves me, he loves me. .. . "

"And I love him. " And she threw herself in her friend's arms. "I am ashappy as you now, for I love. .. . The thick cloud that hung overeverything is gone. Everything is bright and beautiful. This darkgrove is sparkling with sunlight and. .. ?"

Genevieve stopped her. 

"Little sister, you are raving. Your pulse is racing with fever. Wemust go back. Think of poor Albert. "

Esperance drew herself up proudly, replying, "I will never betray him, I will tell the truth, and I will become the wife of the Duke. "

"You are talking wildly, dearest, the Duke will not marry you. "

"He will marry me, I swear it!"

"Albert will enter the Chartist Monastery and the Countess Styvenswill die of sorrow. "

"The Countess Styvens, " said Esperance slowly. 

As the sweet face of the mother came before her mind's eye she beganto tremble all over. 

Maurice had followed the girls into the grove, and he found them nowin each other's arms. 

"Genevieve, " said Esperance, "not a word of what I have said!"

"Have you both gone crazy? They are looking everywhere for Esperancefor the 'Judgment of Paris, ' and here you are congratulating andkissing each other!"

"Cousin, I needed the air, don't scold. Genevieve looked for me andfound me before anybody else, and I kissed her because I love hermost. "

She spoke fast and laughed nervously. 

"Who freed you from your chains?"

"Perseus, it was his duty!"

"And now he is going to give you an apple. "

"Then, " she said very prettily, "I must try to deserve it. Come helpme to make myself beautiful. "

She led Genevieve away by the hand. 

Maurice remained rooted to the spot. Somehow he guessed what suddenchange had operated upon his cousin's spirit. Something must havetaken place in the corridor between these two! He murmured sadly, "Poor Albert, poor little cousin!"

The young Count appeared before him in his most radiant humour. 

"I have just met Esperance, " he said. "She was joyous, brilliant, Ihave never before seen her so happy!"

Maurice gnawed his moustache, and moved rather angrily. 

"We should never have come here, " he said, "success has turned herhead. "

"She was born for success, " said the Count. "I often ask myselfwhether I have a right to accept the sacrifice she is making for me. "

"My dear friend, when things are well you should leave them alone. "

"When you love as I love, you desire above everything the happiness ofthe one you love. "

"Unless the one you love should prefer someone else to you?"

"You are wrong, Maurice. I would sacrifice myself for Esperance'shappiness if I knew she wanted to marry another man. "

Maurice shrugged his shoulders. 

"We are not of the same race. Your blood runs colder in your veinsthan mine, for mine boils. But, perhaps you have a betterunderstanding of these things?"

And he left the Count to go and help the Duke prepare the "Judgment ofParis. "

Three young girls had been chosen for this tableau. Mlle. De Berneuve, a beautiful brunette (Hera); Mlle. Lebrun, with flaming hair (Athene);and Esperance, delicately blonde, was to represent Aphrodite, to whomthe shepherd Paris would award the prize for beauty. 

To personify Aphrodite the girl wore a long pink tunic, with a peplumof the same colour heavily embroidered. Her hair was piled high on herhead, leaving the lovely nape of her neck half covered by herdraperies, her exquisitely delicate arms emerging from a sleevelesstunic. To represent the shepherd Paris, the Duke was wearing a shorttunic embroidered with agate beads to hold the stuff down, and a sheepskin. A red cap was on his head. He was magnificent to look upon. 

The stage began to revolve. Paris held out his apple to Aphrodite, whowent crimson at his glance. The girl's blushes did not escape theaudience, where the comments varied according to the person who madethem. 

Maurice, Genevieve, and Jean understood what Esperance read in Paris'seyes. A sad smile gave a melancholy grace to the lovely Aphrodite. Both the actors had forgotten that they were not alone. Hypnotizedunder the gaze of Paris, the young girl made a gesture towards him. Asharp, "Don't move" from the prompter brought her back to herself. Sheturned her head, saw the audience, with the eyes and glasses ofeveryone focussed upon her. It seemed to her that they must all knowher secret. She tottered; and supported herself upon Athene. She musthave fallen from the frame and been badly hurt, if the Duke had notcaught her just in time. A cry escaped from the audience. The Marquisde Montagnac gave a sign to the stage hands to stop revolving thestage. 

Albert climbed up on the stage at once. He thrust Paris quickly aside, picked up the girl and carried her out on to the terrace. Maurice andJean followed him. She was not unconscious, but she could not speakand she recognized no one. Genevieve knelt beside her. At firstdelicacy--discretion--held the spectators back, but curiosity soondrove them forward. But the Duke did not appear. He had seeminglyvanished. 

The Doctor of the Château was called from playing croquet. He began byordering the crowd away. Esperance was stretched out on an easy chairon the terrace. The Doctor looked at her for a moment, amazed at herbeauty, then sat beside her, feeling her pulse. Genevieve describedwhat had happened. He listened attentively. 

"There is nothing serious, " he said, "only a little exhaustion andcollapse. I will go and mix a soothing drink for her. "

Esperance, still unconscious, was carried by her fiancé to her room, where Genevieve and Mlle. Frahender put her to bed. Albert went backto wait for the Doctor. Maurice went in search of Charles de Morlay. He met a forester, who told him that the Duke had gone for a ride inthe forest, and had sent word to the Duchess that he might not be backto lunch. 

Maurice returned disturbed and thoughtful. Genevieve was waiting forhim with the news that the Doctor had himself administered a sleepingdraught to Esperance which he said should make her sleep at least fivehours. 

"So much the better! That will give us a little time to consider andto decide what is to be done. The truth is that we ought to clear outthis very day! Love is a miscreant!"

"Not always, fortunately, " murmured Genevieve. 

"You, Genevieve, have a balanced mind, calm, just. If only my cousinhad your equilibrium!"

"Oh! Maurice, Maurice. .. . "

A tear ran down Genevieve's eyelashes. She closed her eyes. He tookthe lovely head in his hands and his lips rested on her pure forehead. They remained so for one marvellous, never-to-be-forgotten second. 

When he left her Maurice met Albert Styvens. They walked side by sidetowards the woods. 

"I am very much alarmed, " said the Count, "not about Esperance's health, but about her state of mind. I am a poor psychologist, but my love foryour cousin has sharpened my wits. It seems to me that the Duke istrying to make Esperance love him. "

"Possibly; I had not noticed. "

"Yes, Maurice, you have noticed and you have no right to deny it. Iwant to ask your advice. The Duke and I both love your cousin. One ofus must lose. Just now I repulsed the Duke so rudely that he couldhave demanded satisfaction, but I foresee that he will let it pass. That attitude, so unusual to his temperament, proves that he wants toavoid scandal. Why? What is his object?"

"I don't know, " said Maurice. "He has gone riding in the forest, probably to calm his nerves with solitude. He loves your fiancée, buthis honour forces him to respect her. "

"Perhaps, " said Albert. 

"I think, " said Maurice, "that we should all leave this evening orto-morrow morning at the latest. Esperance is not ill, only worn out. She is easily exhausted. "

"And if she loves the Duke?" pursued the Count. 

"Then it is my place to ask you what you are going to do about it?"

Albert was silent a minute, then raising his pale face, answeredslowly: "If she loves the Duke, I shall have to ask him what are hisintentions; and if, as I believe, he wishes to marry her, I shall diea Chartist!"

The third gong vibrated, announcing lunch. 

After lunch, Albert, Maurice, Jean, and Genevieve settled themselvesunder a great oak, which was said to have been planted by a delightfullittle Duchess of Castel-Montjoie, who had been celebrated at Courtduring the Regency. A marble table and a heavy circular bench madethis wild corner quite cosy, and sheltered from the sun and from thecurious. The tree was just opposite the tower where Esperance wassleeping so deeply, and Mlle. Frahender was to give a signal from thewindow when she awoke. Neither of them felt much inclined forconversation, for their eyes were fixed on the window opposite. Abouthalf-past four Mlle. Frahender appeared, and Genevieve hastened to theroom. 

Esperance was sitting up in bed, remembering nothing. 

"Albert, Maurice, and Jean are over there. Do you wish to see them?"

Esperance rose up quickly, wrapping a robe of blue Japanese crêpeembroidered in pink wisterias about her, and gracefully fastened upher hair. 

"Let them come, if you please, now. "

The young men entered and stopped in amazement at the change that hadalready taken place in her. Instead of finding her a wreck theydiscovered her pink, gay and laughing. 

"What happened to me?" she asked. "My little Mademoiselle does notknow, she was not well herself. There is my Aphrodite costume. Whathappened to me?"

"It was very simple, " explained Maurice. "You stayed too long withyour head hanging down during the rehearsal, and as you were tired itmade you ill. Albert brought you here and you have been asleep forfive hours. Now you are your charming self again. We will leave you sothat you can dress, and then if you feel like it we will take you fora drive. "

"I will be very quick; in ten minutes I will be with you. "

The young people did not know what to think. It would now be verydifficult to suggest that Esperance should withdraw from the fête, asapparently every trace of her indisposition had disappeared. 

Then Albert spoke:

"I am going to ask Esperance to give up appearing at this performanceas a favour to me, " he said. "I shall contribute largely to thecharitable fund, and we can go back to Penhouet. "

He had hardly finished speaking when Esperance came into the littlesalon. 

"Here I am you see and the ten minutes is not yet up!"

A discreet tap at the door made them all turn round. The DowagerDuchess appeared. 

"Ah! my dear child, what a joy to see you so restored. "

"I must apologize, Madame, for the trouble I gave you. It is all over, all over, " she said, shaking her pretty head; "and I am as well aspossible. "

"I am more than delighted, " said the Duchess, sitting down. "You have noidea, my dear Albert, of the perfect disaster Esperance's absence wouldhave caused. She is the star of our bill, as they say, and on whom weall rely. You know that my son wants to be elected Deputy, and thisfête will secure him the votes of the whole community. More thanfifteen hundred people have taken tickets. The local livery stable mencount on making a fortune. All the villagers are getting their roomsready to let. If that adorable child had failed us nothing could havemade it up to them, and my son would have been ruined. "

She rose up. 

"But, " she added, with the sweet smile that won all hearts, "you seeme so happy, so reassured, that you must all be joyful with me. "

The young people led her to the foot of the stair. The carriage waswaiting to take them for their drive. 

The visit from the amiable Duchess rather disconcerted Albert, andJean, and Maurice and Genevieve. Everything seemed like the warring ofan implacable destiny. All four felt absolutely impotent. 

The drive was stimulating. Esperance drew life at every breath. Theycould watch the colour coming back into her cheeks. 

As the carriage came out into a clearing, the Duke de Morlay rodewildly by. His horse was covered with sweat and trembling so that hehad some difficulty in mastering it. The Duke inquired for Esperance'shealth and decided that it must be excellent from her looks. 

"But my dear Albert, " he said, laughing, "you almost knocked me overthis morning, however, I do not blame you, I would have done as muchmyself in your place. However, I must be off, my horse is fagged. Ishall see you later. "

And he was gone. 

"How pale the Duke looked, " exclaimed Esperance. 

"He is fatigued, he has been riding since this morning. "

"Did he not lunch with you, cousin?"

"No. "

"Why did he go away in such haste?"

"You are too curious. "

Then, looking hard at her, "Perhaps he thought, like the good Duchess, that your weakness was serious, and that all his little arrangementswere going to fall through. "

"I understand that the Duchess cared, since the election of her son isat stake, but the Duke, how would it affect him?"

Albert sitting opposite her in the carriage, looked her full in theface. 

"Perhaps he will never find another opportunity to pay his court toyou. "

"Whew, that is straightforward bluntness for you!" thought Maurice. 

Esperance grew red. The recollection of what had happened began tocome back little by little. She closed her eyes to be able to thinkmore clearly. Albert left her in her silence a minute, then he said, "We had planned to carry you away to-day, but you heard what theDuchess said just now. I feel bound by the confidence of that oldfriend to remain. My fate is in your pretty hands. Be circumspect withthe Duke. Frank, and loyal with your fiancé. "

And he took her hands, in a long kiss. 

The coachman was told to turn around, for it was getting late. Thehorses set off at a trot. 

Nothing more was said between them, about the Duke. 

After dinner, the Duke arose, and announced, "The fête will be the dayafter to-morrow. We have only rehearsed once, and then, not in full. Ifeel somewhat responsible for the exhaustion of our little star. Herhead, hanging down, was so beautiful, that I thought only of the pose, without realizing how painful it must have become to the artist. I askMile. Darbois' pardon. Also, I should like another stage director. Ipropose M. Maurice Renaud, our ingenious collaborator, to whom we oweour magnificent costumes, and originality of our decorations. "

Everyone applauded, and Maurice was proclaimed director of the fête. 

"I thank you, and accept", he said simply. 

He thought, "That is his way of getting rid of me. "

"I hope, my dear Director, " continued the Duke, "that you will make usrehearse hard to-morrow. If anything goes wrong we shall still havethe morning of the following day, for the fête does not begin untilhalf-past two. "

Maurice rose, and in a comical tone announced, "Ladies, gentlemen, andartists, I beg you to be prompt for a rehearsal of the tableauxvivants to-morrow at ten o'clock. Any artist who is late, will pay afine of a hundred francs, to the poor of the Duchess. " And as theylaughingly protested, "There is a quarter of an hour's grace accordedas in the theatres, but not one instant more. My stage-manager isempowered to collect the fines. "

They followed the action of the Duchess and rose from their seats. TheDuke went over to Maurice. 

"I would like to talk over some of the details with you. They mustinterest us, but they mean nothing to the others. A cigarette?"

They strolled to the end of the terrace. A pretty Chinese umbrellasheltered a delightful nook. The Duke and Maurice dropped into easychairs. 

"Will you give me your word that what I am going to say to you will befor you alone; that you will not repeat it?"

The young man refused, "How can I give my word without even knowingthe subject of your confidences?"

"It concerns your cousin. "

"Then it concerns Count Styvens. "

"Indirectly, yes. "

Maurice got up. 

"I would rather not listen to you, for my duty as a man of honourwould compel me to speak, should it be necessary. "

The Duke sat still and reflected for a minute. 

"Very well, you shall judge when you have heard me, what you think youhad better do. I leave you free. I love your cousin Esperance: she isthe fiancée of Count Albert, but she is not in love with him. "

Maurice had thrown away his cigarette and leaning forward, his handsclasped, his eyes on the ground, listened intently. 

"I have paid her in a way attentions for a year; I admit it was wrongfor I had no definite intentions. A visit to Penhouet, however, completely changed my opinion of this little maiden. The atmosphere ofbeauty, of calm in which she lived, the liking and respect I felt forM. And Madame Darbois, and the free play of intelligence and taste Ithere discovered, made a deep impression on me and I could not forget. The ordinary life of society, so artificial, so devoid of realinterest, this life that eats up hours and weeks and months infutilities, in nothings that come to nothing, all this became suddenlyquite burdensome to me. I continuously thought of the adorable child Ihad seen at Penhouet, brighter than all else in that radiant place. Iwas travelling, and did not learn of the accident to your cousin andCount Styvens until I returned to Paris. Then I wrote for news. "

"I came back here to my old aunt's, my nearest relative. I wanted toask her to invite the whole of the Darbois family to spend a monthhere at Montjoie. A letter from Count Albert, announcing hisengagement to Esperance, was a terrible blow to me. I conceived thedetestable idea of revenging myself on Albert, but every scheme wentagainst me. I have been beaten without ever having fought. " Then hepaused. 

"Since you have done me the honour to make me your confidant, permitme to say that the little ambush you laid for Esperance thismorning. .. . "

The Duke interrupted, "That ambush was a vulgar trick, theatrical andcheap. I spare you the trouble of having to tell me so. I was about todisclose myself to the young ladies when I heard your cousin speak myname. Then I kept still, hoping to learn something. What man couldhave resisted? I heard these words spoken to Mlle. Hardouin, 'Yes, thepresence of the Duke of Morlay disturbs me; I do not know if that islove, but I do know that I do not love Albert. ' They went on towardsthe clearing; I was compelled to leave my hiding place. You know therest. The cry the child gave, and her look of reproach unmanned me. Iunderstood at that moment that I loved in deadly earnest; that myintention of avenging myself on Albert was nothing but a vainmanifestation of pride, that the ambush was a cowardly concession tomy reputation as a--well, deceiver of women. You know what I mean. "

He shrugged his shoulders scornfully. 

"The man I was trying to be has left the man I am, and now, Renaud, here is what I want you to know. Esperance Darbois loves me, I wasconvinced of that at the rehearsal. I love her ardently in return. Shewill not be happy with Albert, and I want to marry her. I will employno 'illicit means, ' as the lawyers say. On other scores I shall feelno remorse to have broken your cousin's engagement. My fortune istwice Albert's; he is a Count, I a Duke, and what is more, aFrenchman. "

Maurice stood up nervously. 

"You are a very gallant man, Duke, and my sympathy was yours from yourfirst visit to Penhouet, but I am greatly distressed that you shouldhave made me your confidant, for I must in honour bound supportAlbert. "

"I do not see why! It seems to me that the happiness of your cousinmight count before any friendship for Albert Styvens. "

"But where is her real happiness, I might say her lasting happiness?"

The moon had risen radiantly pure. From their elevation on theterrace, they could overlook all the garden and park sloping gently tothe lake. In a boat two young girls were rowing. They were alone. 

"You leave me free to act?"

"Absolutely. "

"Till to-morrow, " said Maurice pressing his hands. 

The Duke remained alone on the terrace. He saw the young man gorapidly towards the lake. He heard him hail the girls and saw himclimb into the boat with them, then disappear after he had waved withGenevieve's handkerchief a signal of adieu. 

CHAPTER XXV

When Maurice and Esperance and Genevieve landed, the Duke was stillpacing up and down on the terrace. Maurice had jumped lightly on tothe shore, and had helped the young girls out, and having taken themto the Château, rejoined the Duke who was waiting for him. 

"You are right. Esperance loves you. My uncle comes to-morrow evening. He is a man of such uprightness that he will find, no doubt, the bestsolution of this most complicated situation. Only I beg you to spareAlbert. "

The Duke replied instantly, "I will make every effort to be generous;but this morning he thrust me away from your cousin in a deliberateattempt to insult me. I pretended to blame it on his anxiety, but Imay not be able to control myself again, if he drives me so far. "

"Alas! I am afraid that you are both of you at the mercy of the firstthing that happens. For the love of God, keep cool. And don't forgetto come to-morrow at ten for the rehearsal. "

And they parted. 

Maurice did not sleep a wink. Esperance and Genevieve went to bed verylate, after talking for a long time of the future. 

"Poor Albert, " murmured the little star still as she closed her eyesin the very moment of gliding into the unreal life of dreams. 

Mlle. Frahender had some difficulty next morning in waking the twoyoung girls. Another maid waited on them, for the Duke had sent hisgoddaughter back to her family. 

"Let us all three take our chocolate together on this little table. The sun is so gentle this morning, to-day ought to have a beautifullife ahead of it. My parents come at six and we must go to meet them. "

She chattered on all through the breakfast, and kissed Genevieve inoverflowing happiness. 

"I love to see you so, Esperance, " said the old Mademoiselle. "Youhave scarcely seemed yourself lately, even at Penhouet. Now you aretruly yourself, you are radiant with your seventeen years. It is apleasure to look at you and to listen to you. "

When the two girls came into the hall the Director, Maurice Renaud, the Marquis Assistant, and the stage-manager, Louis de Marset, werethe only others who had arrived. The manufacturer of the paper modelswas arranging the rock, the dragon, and the headless horse in themiddle of the room. He held a brush red with dragon's blood, gave it atouch, and recoiled to admire the effect; then taking the sea weed hehad gathered from real rocks, began placing it in little bunches onhis pasteboard rock. 

"In regard to the half white horse, a magnificent cardboard mount, "said Maurice, flatteringly, "we shall not use it. Another tableau hasbeen substituted for that one. "

The Assistant came up to Maurice. "Can you tell me, sir, why they willnot give the 'Europa and the Bull'?"

"Because Mlle. Darbois has been far from well, and the Duchess hasrequested that she shall not appear in more than two tableaux. She isto play a very difficult duet, as well, you know, and afterwards shewill have to talk to all the people who crowd around her to buyflowers. "

Jean was charged with excluding all those who were not in thetableaux. Albert was included in those not admitted, and he certainlywould have held it against the Duke, had he still been Director; butJean explained to him that Maurice had taken this means of making therehearsal go more quickly. Genevieve, who was also excluded, kept theCount company, and tried to distract him; but he was in a verydespondent humour. When he saw the Duke arrive so late, he said, somewhat crossly, "He is delaying the rehearsal. "

"Oh! no, " said Genevieve, "he does not come on until the second group, and there is no need for him to appear in costume. "

When Andromeda was extended upon her rock the Duke took his position. They were alone in their wooden frame. 

"Won't you trust yourself to me?" he breathed. 

"I love you with all my soul. "

"My life is yours, " she replied. 

The scene had turned very quickly, the curtain, had fallen. Mauricecame up and helped the Duke to unfasten the girl. She was radiant. Hewas transformed. Maurice guessed that they had spoken together, but heasked nothing. 

The second tableau was given immediately. Paris was not in costume. Heheld the apple to the glorious Aphrodite, the picture turned, therehearsal was over for Esperance. The Duke still had to take part intwo other scenes. 

When Esperance was dressed she followed Maurice's advice to go joinGenevieve and Albert. 

"What a relief, " he exclaimed at sight of her, "I began to think itwould never be over. "

"Yet we did not lose any time. "

"Oh, no! but now it will go more slowly. The Countess de Morgueil willhave to make several repetitions of her tableau of the enchantressMelusina. "

It was the little de Marset who had spoken. Esperance started. For along time it had been rumoured that the very pretty Countess deMorgueil, widowed two years ago, was violently infatuated with theDuke de Morlay, who was said not to be indifferent to her affection. 

Afraid apparently that his meaning had not been plain, Marsetinsisted, "she is always circling about the Duke. "

"But does he care for her?" asked a young woman with a hard face, whowas just going to give herself a dose of morphine, and who was neverseen without a cigarette between her lips. 

"Who knows?" queried Marset, with a knowing air. 

Esperance had grown very pale. Albert was controlling himself withdifficulty. He observed Genevieve's constraint, and the trouble of hisfiancée. 

"Shall we walk a little?"

They walked towards the woods and Maurice, in some excitement, soonjoined them. He was greatly troubled, and longed to be able to tellAlbert how things were going. He was very fond of this fine fellow, and at the same time felt great sympathy for the Duke. He understoodperfectly well why Esperance should prefer him to the Count, but atthe same time he blamed her a little for causing so manycomplications. When he saw her so fresh and charming beside Albert, hegrew more disturbed. Genevieve quietly drew him aside. 

"You are getting excited, Maurice, and I see clearly that you areblaming Esperance, but let me tell you, dear love, that you areunjust. At this moment Esperance is walking in a dream. Nothing realexists for her. For three months she has suffered very much, struggledvery much, and felt so much. Events have come very quickly. She findsherself all of a sudden at the fount of the realization of all herfondest hopes; to be loved by the one she loves!. .. Be patient, Maurice, she is so young and so sensitive. .. . "

"Your heart, dearest Genevieve, is an admirable accountant. It addsthe reasons, multiplies the excuses, subtracts the errors, and dividesthe responsibility. You are adorable and I love you with all my heart. Come with me, it is time for the concert. You go on immediately afterDelaunay. The Duchess is unable to contain herself at the idea ofhearing you recite her poem. "

The Duke passed by, accompanied by the pretty Countess de Morgueil, atwhose conversation he was smiling politely and replying vaguely. Heseemed not to have seen the others. Like Esperance, he was living in aworld of dreams, happy in a realm where there was neither impatiencenor jealousy. He knew that he was loved. 

After lunch Esperance said that she was going to rest, so as to befresh for next day. Her father and mother were to come on thePrincess's little yacht. She and Mlle. Frahender were to go alone tomeet them. That gave her several hours of solitude to think of him, only of him. 

Maurice repeated his last orders for the engrossing fête, againstwhich he railed ceaselessly, in spite of Genevieve's constant effortsto calm him. 

"Oh! of course, it is perfectly evident that I am unreasonable, I knowit; but if I break my leg slipping on an orange peel, you would notprevent me from swearing at the person who had peeled the fruit there, would you?"

Genevieve laughed in spite of herself. "Be a good boy, tell your uncleeverything as soon as he comes; but say nothing against Esperance, forthat would not be right. "

Her lovely face was very sad. Maurice looked at her with a world oftenderness, "My darling, forgive me; the truth is that I am soworried. Albert's face is hard and set. He knows nothing, cannot knowanything, but he is gifted with the intuition that simple souls oftenpossess. I am very uneasy, I can tell you. Say nothing to Esperance. Come now, let us stroll into this thicket and talk just by ourselvesfor awhile. "

They entered the thicket, holding each other close, in silence. Whenthey came to the clearing they stopped short. The Duke was there, stretched out upon the bench, smoking, dreaming. 

He got up, surprised, and apologized. 

"I had just come back here to live over an unforgettable moment. "

"This corner must be the rendezvous for the slaves of the little god, "said Maurice, bowing to the statuette of _Love Enchained_. "Wewill leave you. "

"No, " said the Duke quickly, "Please stay. Your happiness shows me thevision of which I dreamed. Art is the inspiration of the beautiful, and I believe, that artists have a more delicate sense of love thanother people. 

"I believe, in truth, " said Maurice, "that artists, move in a muchlarger world than that which is inhabited by either the bourgeoisie orthe aristocracy. "

They talked for a long time, and returned to the Château together. 

Albert was beneath the green oak, talking to the Dowager Duchess, whowas telling him how much she admired Genevieve. She had repeated herpoem so wonderfully to her alone that morning! They did not see thetrio emerge from the thicket, and Maurice was glad of it. He felt moreand more constrained. The complicity against the poor fellow'shappiness seemed to him a form of treason. He looked at his watch. Itwas only five o'clock. 

"That is impossible. This watch must have stopped. "

The Duke went to his room. His man gave him an elegant little note, and as his master threw it down on the table, "They await an answer. "

"Very well, I will send one. "

The servant withdrew. On the stair he met an English maid waiting theanswer. 

"Monsieur will send an answer. "

"The Countess will be displeased. These French gentlemen are moregallant but less polite than our English lords. She is as much in loveas Love itself. "

"He also is in love. "

"Then it ought to be easy enough, for Madame is a widow. "

"But it is not your mistress that he loves. "

"Ah! who then?"

"Ah! nothing for nothing. " And he held out his hands. 

"Ah! shocking!"

"Very well, " and he started, as if to return to his master. 

She stopped him. 

"Monsieur, Gustave you know very well that I am promised. "

"Nothing for nothing. "

Again he held out his hands. She hesitated a moment, looking up anddown, and then let him have her finger tips. With a brutal gesture hecaught her to him and kissed her furiously. The little English maid, blushing and rumpled, drew back and announced coldly, "You French arebrutes. Now, the information I paid for in advance. "

"Very well. He is in love with little Esperance Darbois. "

"The actress? But she is engaged to Count Styvens. "

"It is the truth I have told you, " replied the valet, proud of his ownimportance, "and if you will meet me in the grove, during dinner, Iwill tell you some more. "

"Thanks, I know enough now, " said the maid dryly, leaving him. 

She disappeared, but Gustave preened himself, certain of success. Ashe went downstairs he saw Count Albert, helping the old Mademoiselleand her charge into the carriage. Instinctively, he looked up to seehis master's silhouette at the window. Albert was asking to be allowedto go with them, but Esperance had promised herself a quiet andrestful drive. 

"No, Albert, we shall be four with my father and mother, and this is asmall carriage. "

"But I will sit with the coachman. "

"Look, " said the young girl, laughing, "at the size of the seat, andremember that there will be two large bags and a hat box, a very bighat box, to hold a hat for mama, one for Genevieve, and one for me. "

Albert sighed sadly and closed the carriage door, after he had kissedhis fiancée's hand. As the carriage drove away he went up to the roomhis mother was to occupy when she arrived next day, and looked to seeif all was ready. 

He took a book and tried to read, but after a couple of minutes hethrew it aside and went out of doors again. He stopped a moment on theterrace, considering where to go. A young lady stopped him as he waspreparing to go down the steps. 

"All alone, Count, and dreaming! Ah! you are thinking of her. Come, let us stroll along together. "

And the young Countess de Morgueil took his arm before he had time toanswer. 

"You were not at the rehearsal this morning. You know that they havegiven up the tableaux of 'Europa. ' Did you insist upon it?"

"No, why should I have made myself so ridiculous?"

"But the Duke pretended. .. . "

"Dear Madame, the Duke could not have pretended anything except that hedid not wish to appear without any clothes on, a decision that I heartilyapproved of. "

"They say that he tries to fascinate every woman he meets. What do youthink?"

"And what do you?" said the Count, looking her straight in the eye. 

"Oh! he would never cause me great palpitation, " she returnedmeaningly. 

"Are you making any allusion to Mlle. Darbois?" he asked, stoppingabruptly. 

"I am engaged to Mlle. Darbois, I believe you know, Madame. You arepiqued because you love the Duke de Morlay and he seems to bedeserting you to hover near my fiancée. Do as I do; have a littlepatience; to-morrow by this time the fête will be over and I shallhave left with Mlle. Darbois. Don't be either too nervous or toomalicious, it does not agree with your type of beauty. I kiss yourhands. "

He went towards the Château, and took up his vigil in the little salonadjoining Esperance's room. 

The Countess of Morgueil was confused and mortified. "He is not sostupid as he looks, " she thought. 

Albert was reading, but listening all the time. Finally a carriagestopped before the Château. He went down quickly and caught Esperancein his arms so tightly that the young girl gave a little scream. 

"Oh! pardon, pardon. It is so long since I have seen you. "

He kissed Mme. Darbois's hand and almost crushed the professor'sfingers in his nervous grasp. He asked anxiously concerning Penhouet, and expressed his desire to return there immediately. Maurice andGenevieve came running up. 

"How happy every one looks here, " said Mme. Darbois. 

"Don't believe it, my dear aunt; we are standing on a volcano. "

"Ah! the cares of the fête weigh upon you. It always seems as ifeverything were going wrong at the last moment. "

She laughed, proud of her penetrations. Genevieve tugged at Maurice'svest as he was about to set the dear lady right. 

"Ah! well, I leave you to dress. This evening, uncle, I want to have achat with you as I have something serious to say to you. "

The philosopher and his wife looked at each other understandingly. 

"Very well, my boy, I shall be entirely at your disposal for as longas you like, for I can guess. .. . "

And he looked at Genevieve. Maurice despaired of ever making himunderstand. 

CHAPTER XXVI

Everyone greeted the philosopher with delight when he appeared in theante-chamber where the guests were assembled before dinner. The Dukecame to present his greetings to Mme. Darbois and stayed talking toher for some time. He saw that she liked him, but foresaw at the sametime that it would be very painful for the good woman to have toaccept another son-in-law. During dinner the Duchess steered theconversation towards philosophy, wishing to please François, who wasplaced on her right--art and science being to her the highest titlesof nobility. 

"Ah! I am no philosopher, " protested the Marquis de Montagnac. "Iaccept old age only as a chastisement, and not having committed anycriminal act, I revolt against the injustice of it. "

And Louis de Marset, bending towards his neighbour, who had had agreat reputation for beauty before age and illness had pulled herdown, remarked, "One cannot be and have been, is not that true, Madame?"

"You are mistaken, my dear sir. There are some poor people who areborn fools and never change. "

A smile of delight appeared on every face. 

The Duke found himself in an argument with Lord Glerey, a phlegmaticEnglishman, whose marital misfortunes had made both London and Parislaugh. 

"You seem, " said the Duke, "to confuse indifference with philosophy. "

"I do not confuse them, my dear sir. My apparent indifference issimply scorn for the sarcasms, the cruelty of the people of societywho are always ready to rejoice when anyone attacks the honour or loveof another. "

The Duke murmured slowly, "Certainly what they call 'the world'deserves scorn. And all the same, taken separately, every individualof this collectivity is a man or woman like any other, a sufferingbeing, who laughs just the same, like an eternal Figaro, for fear ofbeing compelled to weep. "

Count Albert was talking to an old sceptic. 

"But, " the Countess de Morgueil addressed him suddenly, "What wouldyou do, if on the eve of attaining the longed-for happiness, you foundyourself suddenly confronted by an insurmountable obstacle. "

"Everything would depend on the quality of the happiness in prospect, Madame. Some happiness easily abandoned, and some happiness is to bestruggled for until death itself. "

Maurice had guessed the point of this sudden attack. He was none theless surprised by Albert's answer. 

"Decidedly, it is going to be even more difficult than I feared, " hethought. 

Indeed, Count Albert had evidently assumed a change of attitude. Loveand jealousy had transformed this simple and generous heart into abeing of metal; he had not lost any of his goodness, but he had puthis soul in a state of defence and prepared himself for the struggle. He did not know anything, but his presentiments filled him withanguish. He was not unaware that his austerity provoked irony, but nowit seemed to him that the irony was taking a form of pity whichenraged him. 

Dinner was over, the great hall filled with groups gathered togetheras their tastes dictated. Bridge and poker tables were produced, andsome of the young people gathered about a table where liqueurs werebeing served. Maurice took his uncle by the arm and led him away. 

"Let us go to your room, for no one must hear what I have to say toyou. "

"Not even your aunt?"

"No, uncle, not even aunt. "

François was astonished, for he had supposed that it was of his ownfuture that Maurice wished to speak. They went towards the Tower ofSaint Genevieve. 

"Uncle, what I have to say to you is very grave. "

"What a lot of preamble! Well, I am listening. "

"The Duke de Morlay-La-Branche loves Esperance passionately. "

"Well, that is a pity for the Duke, but he will console himself easilyenough. "

Maurice was silent before he continued, "Esperance is madly in lovewith the Duke!"

François started violently. 

"You are raving, Maurice; she is engaged to Count Styvens and has noright to forget him. "

"She has never been in love with the Count, and can hardly endure himsince she has foreseen another future. "

"What future?"

"The Duke wants to marry Esperance. "

"But it is impossible, impossible, " said the philosopher violently. "Aword that has been given cannot be taken back so lightly. "

"Calm yourself, uncle, if you please. For three days I have beenwandering about in this untenable situation. We must make a decision. Every instant I fear an outbreak either from Albert or from the Duke. "

"How have Esperance and the Duke contrived to see each other?"

"I will tell you all that uncle, later, but the how and the why arenot very important at this moment. I want you to send for Albert. Esperance does not wish to marry him. She has loved the Duke a longtime, but did not know that he loved her, and did not suppose analliance possible between our families, even though you have made thename illustrious. For that matter I should never have supposed myselfthat the Duke would consent to make what would generally be considereda mésalliance. "

"It all seems unbelievable, " murmured François. 

And with his head in his hands he groaned despairingly, "How can wesacrifice that noble and unfortunate Albert?"

"One of the three must suffer, uncle. It would be a crime to sacrificeEsperance who has the right to love whom she pleases and to choose herown life. The Duke Morlay is loved, Count Albert is not and never hasbeen. He knows it as you know it now. Esperance consented to marry himthrough gratitude to you. "

"Ah! I feared as much, " said the professor prostrated. 

François Darbois remained a long time in thought, then he got up, hisface lined with sadness. 

"Tell your cousin to come to me, I will wait for her here. "

"I will send her to you at once. Forgive me for having so distressedyou, dear uncle. "

"It was your duty!"

François pressed his hand affectionately. Left alone he feltdespairing. The futility of the precautions he had taken, the inanityof all reasoning, of all logic, plunged him into the scepticism he hadbeen combatting for so many years. 

Maurice found his cousin talking to Albert, the Marquis of Montagnac, and Genevieve. 

"Your father is feeling a little indisposed and is going to bed. Wouldnot you like to say good-night to him?"

Esperance rose immediately. Albert wanted to go with her, but Mauriceheld him back, and began asking under what conditions he proposed toplay the duet with Esperance next day. 

"It is all one to me, " replied the Count wearily. "I am in a hurry toget away from here. I find myself too much disturbed by my nerves, andyou know, cousin, how unusual it is for me to be nervous. "

At this term of family familiarity, Maurice shivered. He thought ofthe interview now taking place in his uncle's room. Genevieve joinedthem and they strolled up and down, but Albert made them returncontinually near the tower. 

When Esperance opened the door of the little salon where her fatherwas waiting, she saw him in such an attitude of distress that shethrew herself at his knees. 

"Father, darling father, I ask your pardon. I am ruining your lifejust as you begin to reap the harvest of so many noble efforts. Youhave been so good to me, " she sobbed, "and I must seem to you soungrateful. Do not suffer so, I beg you. Take me away with you, let usgo and I will do my best to forget; let us go!"

"But, " said the Professor, hesitatingly, "Albert would follow. "

The girl rose. 

"Oh! no, not that. I wish I could marry Albert without loving him; Ihave tried, but I cannot go on to the end, I cannot!"

"You really love the Duke?"

"Father, for a whole year I have struggled against that love. "

"Why have you never told me?"

"Because I saw nothing in the Duke's attentions except the agitationthey caused me; and I was too ashamed to speak of it to you. Ithought, considering the position of the Duke, that I was an aspiringfool. He overheard me talking to Genevieve. When he appeared beforeus, I so little expected to see him there at such an hour--six o'clockin the morning, in the grove--that my heart could not bear the shock, and I fainted. From that instant I understood how much I loved him. Ihad no idea before of the power of love, but now I feel it the masterof my life. I will sacrifice that to your will, father; but I will notsacrifice the immense happiness of loving. Even if the Duke did notlove me, I should still be uplifted by my own love. "

She sat down beside her father. 

"Who knows what unhappiness may not be lurking for me, ready to springat any moment?"

She drew near him shivering. 

François took her charming head in his hands. He looked at hertenderly, but with an expression almost of terror in his face. 

"Alas! all happiness built upon the unhappiness of others always risksdisillusionment--and collapse. "

"Dear father, my life has been bathed in such sunlight for the lastthree days, that I shall keep that glow of warmth for the rest of mylife. "

"I only ask, you little daughter, to do nothing, to say nothing, before the end of this fête. We have no right, however grave ourpersonal troubles and responsibilities are, to betray the hospitalityof the Duchess. To-morrow, after the fête, I will talk to Albert. Go, my darling, go back to that poor boy. I hate to send you to practice adissimulation that I abhor, but we are in a situation of such delicacyand difficulty. .. . God keep you!"

He kissed her tenderly. She went back to her fiancé, to find to hersurprise that the Countess de Morgueil had just passed by with him. Maurice pointed them out where they were walking slowly in thedistance. 

"Oh! so much the better, " said Esperance. "That gives me an excuse togo to my room. "

Maurice urged her to wait. "I am convinced that that woman is meddlingin our affairs. It is plain enough that we have upset her. "

"How? What do you mean, cousin?"

"Did you not know that the Countess is madly in love with the Duke, and that she had hoped to marry him this winter?"

"Poor woman, " sighed Esperance, sincerely. 

The Duke came by, and seeing them alone, he joined them. 

"The three of you alone?" he cried. "Then you will allow me to joinyou for a moment?"

"Look, " said Maurice, indicating Albert and the Countess de Morgueil. 

"There is a dangerous woman who is making mischief at this moment!. .. And, nevertheless, I owe her the happiness this moment brings me. "

"My father, " said Esperance, "has been as indulgent to me as always. "

"Thanks for these tidings, " said the Duke. "Do you think he willreceive me to-morrow, if I go to him?"

"Oh! certainly, after the fête; a little while after, for first hewished to speak to Count Styvens, " she said timidly. 

"Will you, " the Duke asked Maurice, "make an appointment for me, andtell me as soon as you have an answer?"

"With pleasure. "

The Duke bowed to the girls and withdrew. He took Maurice's hand, "Iam happy, my friend, everything is going as I wish. I seem to hearlaughter coming out of the shadows. "

And he disappeared. 

The young people waited for Albert a little while longer, but as hedid not appear, Maurice advised the girls to retire, and he returnedto sit down anxiously under the oak. 

He had been there hardly a quarter of an hour when he saw the Countessde Morgueil go by. She was alone and walked nervously. On the doorstepshe stopped and looked back into the distance. He saw her tremble, then go in quickly. He stood up on his bench to see what she had beenlooking at, but he almost fell, and had to steady himself by holdingon to a branch. Albert and the Duke were together. Albert had put hishand on the Duke's shoulder, and the Duke had removed that great hand. They were walking side by side towards the extensive terrace thatcommanded the countryside. 

"Oh! the wretched woman! What can she have said? And to be able to donothing, nothing, " he thought. 

He lighted a cigarette, waiting, he did not know for what. But hecould not go back to his room. 

As he put his hand on the Duke's shoulder Albert had said, "I wish totalk to you. "

"Very well. I am listening. "

"I want you to answer me with perfect truth. "

"Your request would be offensive, Albert, if it were not for youremotion. "

"Is it true that you love Esperance Darbois?"

"It is true. "

"Is it true that you want to marry her?"

"It is true. "

"My God! My God!" muttered Albert, and he stopped for a minute. He waschoking. The Duke felt a profound pity for this man who was sufferingat this moment the most terrible pain. 

"Do you believe that she loves you?" Albert still went on. 

"I have answered you with perfect frankness concerning myself, but donot ask me to answer for Mlle. Darbois. "

"Yes; you are right, you cannot answer for her. I know that she doesnot love me, but I hoped to make her love me. I wanted to make her sohappy!. .. That love has made a different man of me. What I regardedyesterday as a crime seems to me now the will of destiny. One of ustwo must disappear. If you kill me, I know her soul, she will notmarry you; she would die rather. If I kill you, the tender compassionshe feels for me will be changed into hatred. What I am doing now is abrutal act, an animal act, but I cannot do otherwise! My religiouseducation had restrained my passions! At least I thought so, " he said, passing his great hand across his stubborn forehead. "But no! My youthdenied of love takes a terrible revenge upon me now, and I have toexert a horrible effort now not to strangle you. "

The Duke had not stirred. 

"I am at your orders, Albert; only I think you will have to armyourself with patience for several hours longer. This fête, given bythe Duchess, cannot be prevented by our quarrel. I suggest that youpostpone our meeting until to-morrow evening. Our witnesses can meetif you like at one o'clock at the little Inn of the 'Three Roads. ' Itis only ten minutes distance from here. The innkeeper is loyal to me, I am his daughter's godfather. The garden is cut by a long alley whichcan serve as the field of honour. I will go at once to warn DeMontagnac and his brother; then I will go to the 'Three Roads. '"

"Good, " said Albert. 

"Naturally, we leave Maurice Renaud out of our quarrel. "

"Certainly, " said Charles de Morlay bowing. 

They parted. From a distance the young painter saw the Duke enter thegreat hall. Several minutes later Albert's tall form barred thehorizon for a moment. He looked at the Tower of Saint Genevieve, thenhe also entered the hall. Then Maurice decided to go in himself. Hesat down by a little table littered with magazines and periodicals, and picked up one, without ceasing for an instant to watch the twomen. The Duke de Morlay was standing behind the Marquis, who was stillat the whist table. Albert Styvens had sat down beside a diplomat fromItaly, Cesar Gabrielli, a serious young man, a clever diplomat, and arenowned fencer. When Montagnac finished his hand, the Duke offeredhim a cigar. 

"Will you help me with some arrangements for the performanceto-morrow?"

He was about to refuse, but the Duke said briefly, "It is important, come!"

The two of them went out, only lingering a little on the way for ajoke with the men and a compliment to the ladies. Then Maurice watchedthe diplomat, who rose at the same time, and invited Albert to admirethe moon from the terrace. Maurice saw them disappearing towards thecorner by the Chinese umbrella. That was the end of the terrace, andwas out of sight from all the windows. 

"It is all plain enough, " thought the young man, "but when, where?"

He understood that neither of the two adversaries could take himeither for confidant or for second. 

"However, " he said, as he went to his room. "I want to know. I mustknow. I will know. "

CHAPTER XXVII

The next day, the day of the fête, all the Château, from early in themorning, was in a violent tumult. Maurice, the Marquis Assistant, andJean Perliez were busy to the point of distraction; fortunately forMaurice, who had been unable to sleep and had called Jean at six toshare the secret which had not been confided to him. He could notthink of telling Genevieve, and Jean should be able to help keepwatch. 

"You try, " he directed, "to watch Montagnac; I shall not leave thediplomat. "

The Duke came in search of Maurice to ask for Esperance. He looked alittle pale but showed much interest in the fête. 

"Our dear Duchess must be rewarded for all the excitement we havecaused her house. "

"There is no reason to suppose, " said Maurice, "that all theexcitement will cease after the fête!"

The Duke would not show that he had understood. Maurice went to smokea cigarette in the garden and was hardly surprised to see the doctor, who had been attached to the service of the Duchess for twenty years, and attended all the guests in the Château, talking animatedly withthe diplomat. The doctor raised his arms in a horrified gesture, letting them fall again tragically. He gave every evidence of aviolent struggle with himself. The diplomat remained calm, determined, and even authoritative. The poor doctor finally yielded. The diplomatshook his hand and left him. 

The doctor with an expression of great distress, walking feebly, passed by Maurice, who would have stopped him. 

"No, no. What? It is impossible. .. . You are not ill. .. . Leave me, dearsir. .. . I . .. I must. .. "

He stammered unintelligible phrases, hastening his steps. Mauricere-entered the hall. He met the musician Xavier Flamand, who said, "I just saw the Count Styvens go out. "

"At this hour?" exclaimed Montagnac, looking at the Duke. 

"He has gone to meet his mother at the station. She arrives at eighto'clock. It is only seven, he will arrive half an hour too soon. "

"He is a dutiful son, " said Montagnac. "I am surprised that he has nottaken his fiancée. "

Maurice raised his head. "Then the Marquis knows nothing!" he said tohimself. 

He reflected, "How dense I am growing. Evidently neither the Duke norAlbert has told anyone the motive of their quarrel. "

Jean came up and cut short his monologue. 

"I think that the two other seconds are Count Alfred Montagnac, theMarquis's brother, and Captain Frederic Chevalier. Here they comenow. "

Indeed the three seconds had just come up to the Marquis, who askedMaurice to excuse him. "I will be back in a few moments, dear M. Renaud. "

The Duke dropped down by Maurice. 

"I believe the fête will be a great success, but I wonder if you longto have it over as heartily as I do. "

"I regret, " replied Maurice, "that our hostess ever thought of it, andthat we ever had anything to do with it. "

"Would you also regret having me for your cousin?"

"No, you know very well that I would not, but. .. . "

"But?"

"I know. .. . "

"You know?"

"Yes, I know. "

"Who has told you?"

The Duke's face grew stern. 

"No one, I give you my word, but I have guessed; it was not verydifficult. .. . "

"Then, my dear Maurice, I must ask you to remain absolutely silent. None of our seconds know the real reason of our meeting. None of themwill ever know. This duel will be to the death, by the wish of CountStyvens, who has found himself justifiably offended. "

"Where will you meet?"

"At the Inn of the 'Three Roads. '"

"When?"

"To-morrow, immediately after the fête. The Inn has been closed sincethis morning so as to receive no one except ourselves and ourwitnesses. Now, my dear Maurice, since you know, I want to ask you afavour. Here are some papers that I wrote last night. I am afraid myservant is on intimate terms with Mme. De Morgueil's English maid, andI dare not leave them in my room. I put them in your care. If luck isagainst me you will give these to the proper persons. If Count Albertis unfortunate, you will give me back the envelope. I'll see youlater!"

He pressed the young man's hand in a close grasp. 

The Duke de Castel-Montjoie, the Dowager's only son, had been chosenby the seconds as umpire. De Morlay and Styvens approved the choice. 

The great hall had been invaded by a score of servants who arrangedthe chairs, placed the palms, and hung silver chains to separate themusicians from the audience. The curtain of the little stage waslowered, but a murmur could be heard through the pretty drop paintedby Maurice. Among the servants set to finish the costumes was theDuke's sly goddaughter. Every time the Duke passed she gazed at himand her lips trembled. She who was usually so pert and smiling workedwith set lips. 

"Ha, ha!" said one of the maids, "you must be in love, eh, Jeanette?"

"Let me alone, stupid, to do my work, " said the young girl with tearsin her eyes. 

She had been waked the night before by the noise of opening doors, shehad got up and seen her godfather talking to her father. The Dukesaid, "You must close your Inn early as possible, you must refuseeverybody, except the Doctor from the Château, Count Styvens and fourgentlemen with the Duke of Castel-Montjoie. I shall probably get herefirst. "

"Ah! my God, " the Innkeeper had murmured, "the Duke is going to fight, I know that. .. . If only nothing happens to you, sir. "

"I need not say that I count on your discretion as on your devotion. Have your best bedroom ready to receive one or the other of theadversaries and put yourself at the absolute command of the Duke deCastel-Montjoie. _Au revoir_. Try not to let your daughter knowanything about this, and say nothing to her; but I know that even ifshe discovered she would not give us away. _Au revoir_!"

As soon as the door closed Jeanette ran to her father, bare-footed, her hair flying, just as she had jumped out of bed. 

"Great Heavens!" said the Innkeeper, "you were listening. "

"Yes, I was listening, I heard; I will prepare the room, but it shallbe for the other!"

"Do you know who the other is?"

"No, " she said quickly. 

"Do you know why they are fighting?"

"How should I know?" she demanded. 

She did know, however. However she sat mute under the gibes of theother servants. 

Albert had returned with his mother, who seemed gayer, happier thanusual. Esperance went at once to speak to her and was enthusiasticallycongratulated on her superb bearing. 

The Countess kissed Esperance whose eyes were filling with tears, andshe kissed the Countess's hands with so much emotion that the ladyraised the blonde head, saying tenderly, "No, no, you must not cry! Wemust love each other joyfully. I have never seen my son so happy, Ishould be jealous if I loved him less. See, dear, I want to give youthese jewels myself; I believe that they are going to suit you verywell. "

She clasped a magnificent collar of pearls around the young girl'sneck. Esperance could not refuse them. She thanked the lovely ladyaffectionately. 

"My father will tell me what to do, " she thought. 

Lunch was an hour earlier as the fête was to begin at half-past two. "Heavens, " said Mme. Styvens with perturbation, "I shall never beready. "

Esperance left her, happy to escape from her torturing thoughts. "Deceit, deceit to this good woman!" Albert was waiting to lead herback. He admired his mother's gift, and spoke to her gently. 

"It is just the tint of your skin, " he said, "that gives these pearlstheir beautiful lustre. They ought not to flatter themselves that itis they who embellish you!"

All this was added anguish for the girl, his mother's kindness, Albert's gay confidence, and this fête which was, soon to begin, thisfête where she must show herself publicly with him whom she loved sothat she would die for him, with him who loved her more than life! Sherepulsed with horror the ideas that came crowding into her brain. Ifthe Château should burn. If she should fall down the staircase andbreak a leg; if Albert should be taken ill and die within the hour. .. . If . .. If . .. And a million visions raced through her brain as she wentback to the Tower of Saint Genevieve. But never once did the Dukeappear as a victim of any of these misfortunes which her brain wasconjecturing up so busily. 

Lunch was a bit disorganized. The Duke avoided looking at Esperance. The sight of that child who loved him filled him with such emotionthat he was afraid of betraying himself. The Countess de Morgueil, annoyed at seeing the two men she had sought to embroil talkingtogether in the most courteous fashion, started to sharpen her clawsonce more. 

"What a beautiful collar, Mlle. Darbois; this is the first time thatyou have worn it, isn't it? Count, I compliment you!"

"Mme. Styvens has just given it to me. " The Duke understood theembarrassment the child felt--not yet eighteen, and forced toextricate herself from nets set by such expert hands as best shecould. 

At half-past two the great hall was crowded by women vying with eachother in their beauty. It was a magnificent sight! Xavier Flamand wentto his stand to conduct the orchestra. 

He was heartily applauded and the spectacle commenced. More than twothousand people had come together for the fête. The hall could onlyaccommodate eight hundred. Other chairs had been placed on theterrace. The tableaux began. The society assembled, appreciated a formof art which is pleasing and not fatiguing, which charms withoutdisturbing. 

The tableau of Andromeda was frantically applauded. The men could notadmire enough the suppleness of Esperance's lovely body, the whitenessof her bare feet with their pink arches, the gold of her hair floatinglike a nimbus around the head of Andromeda, waved by the breeze as thestage turned. The women admired the Duke, so very beautiful in hisgold and silver armour. 

"How splendid the Duke is, " remarked the Countess to Albert. "No onecould have a prouder bearing. If I were in your place, my son, Ishould be jealous. "

"Perhaps I am, " said the Count, smiling. 

The "Judgment of Paris" had the same success. Everyone waited for"Europa, " and many were really disappointed. A hundred reasons weregiven for its withdrawal, and none of them the true one. 

The philosopher and his wife were sitting with Genevieve behind theStyvens. Sometimes the Countess would turn around to complimentFrançois, and the unfortunate man, so frank, whose whole life hadnever known deceit, suffered cruelly. There was an intermission to setthe stage for the concert. The guests pressed around the Styvens's toexpress their admiration for Esperance, in the most dithyrambic, themost superlative terms. The concert began. Albert had to go upon thestage to play the Liszt duet with Esperance. He begged FrançoisDarbois to take his place beside his mother. 

When the curtain went up after the quartette of "Rigoletto, " Esperanceand Albert were seated on the long piano stool. Loud applause greetedthem. The Duke was talking to Maurice in the wings and seemed a littlenervous. He envied Albert at that moment for his superiority as amusician. When they finished, a great tumult demanded an encore, butEsperance had come to the end of her strength. 

As the public continued to applaud, Maurice and the Duke came forwardto see why they did not raise the curtain. Esperance looked at theDuke. 

"Oh! no, please do not raise the curtain; my heart is beating sofast. "

Albert and the Duke supported her gently and she leaned upon them, herpretty head bending towards the Duke. 

"I feel confused. "

And she closed her eyes, afraid of giving herself away. Once more inthe air and she began to feel better. She breathed the little flask ofether that the Doctor held under her nose. 

"This poor heart is always making scenes. Ah! dear Count, you willhave to set that in order. "

The Duke had moved away. Annoyed by the insistence of the public, hetold Jean Perliez to announce that Mlle. Darbois needed a little rest, and presented her compliments to the audience and excused herself fromreplying to the encoring. This was a real disappointment. There hadbeen such enthusiasm for the two fiancés, an enthusiasm well-earned bythe inspired execution of "Orpheus, " that the attitude of this eliteaudience was a little indifferent to the artists who concluded theconcert. The hall was half empty and several artists were too offendedto appear. 

Esperance went to her room with her mother and Genevieve, begging theCount to return to his mother. 

"Your mother will be anxious, and my father can not reassure her, because he does not himself know the symptoms of this slight illness. Tell them that I will rest for a quarter of an hour and then join youat my flower booth. "

When she was left alone with Genevieve she drew her friend to her. 

"My dear little sister, I cannot tell you the joy that pervades everypart of my being. In an hour it will be over! My father will talk withAlbert and I shall be free! free!"

"Poor boy, " sighed Genevieve. 

"Oh! yes, I am ungrateful to his great devotion, but I should be falseto myself and to you, Genevieve, if I told you that the idea of hisdespair greatly troubles me. I know that every one about me regretsthe breaking off of this marriage, and still I don't care. You alladmire the Duke, but you blame him a little. I know that, but that isall submerged and forgotten in my great love. When I reason as I donow, I recognize at once the horrible storm I am causing, and yet Icannot feel sad. I find all sorts of excuses for myself, and cast backall the responsibility on Fate. "

She was silent an instant. 

"Do you think it will take vengeance?"

Mlle. Frahender came in. 

"What will take vengeance?"

"Fate. "

"My dear child, what is called Fate is simply the law of God. "

"Then if God is just he will not avenge himself, for what has happenedis not my fault. "

The old lady looked at the young girl very tenderly. 

"My dear child, do not get into the habit of throwing theresponsibility of your actions upon others. Certainly we are notresponsible for events, but we can almost always choose the way tomeet them. Only, some flatter their passions and refuse to assertthemselves against them! This weakness opens the door to all otherconcessions, and then it becomes difficult to make a loyal examinationof our conscience. "

"Is that my case?" asked the young girl with some anxiety. 

"Perhaps, " replied Mlle. Frahender, frankly. 

"Oh! little lady, be kinder to me, I am so happy that I cannot believesuch happiness comes from troubled waters. .. . And I swear to you thatmy heart is loyal. "

The old lady kissed her charge, but her smile was sad. Esperance wasnow ready to go to her flower stall. A pretty dress, toned like apigeon's breast, a round neck with a tulle collar, a wide girdlefastened with a bunch of primroses, a flapping hat of Italian strawtied with two narrow ribbons under her chin, created a delightfuleffect and a ravishing frame for her lovely face. When she passedlightly on her way to her booth, she caused quite a sensation. TheDuke, Count Albert, Maurice and Jean Perliez were waiting for her. Acrowd followed in her wake. 

The Duke and Count had the same longing to see her, to be with her upto the last moment! They understood each other at that instant, andeach outdid the other in courtesy. Albert was the first customer, passing a thousand francs for a primrose from her belt. The Duke madethe same bargain. The girl's fingers trembled as she handed him theflower. Albert felt a choking feeling in his throat. The crowd pressedround. A German offered ten thousand francs for a flower which theyoung girl had put to her lips. At last Albert could work off some ofhis emotion. He repulsed the German. 

"There is nothing more for sale, sir. I have just bought everythingfor fifty thousand francs. "

The German would have protested, but he was pushed back by the crowdand landed at a distance. 

"That was well done!"

"I did not know that he could be so impulsive. "

"He was quite right. "

"The poor people of the Duchess will become landholders!"

And the crowd scattered, making many comments on the way. Albert wassoon surrounded, as everybody wanted to shake hands with him. The Dukehad stepped back behind the booth. Esperance came out with Genevieveand Mlle. Frahender. He stopped beside her a moment. 

"I love you. "

"Oh, thank you. "

"Forever, I hope!"

Then, as he saw that the Count was still surrounded and that Esperancewould not be able to make her way to him, he offered her his arm. 

"Let me take you to Count Styvens, who cannot extricate himself!"

With the help of Jean and Maurice, he dispersed the guests and ledEsperance to her fiancée. At that moment anyone who had suspected theDuke of intentions to flirt with the plighted girl, must haveabandoned their idea; and the motive of the duel, which was to bringone of these two perfect gentlemen to his death, became more and moreobscure. 

Count Styvens saw the girl coming to him on the Duke's arm, and he didnot suffer from the sight; his suffering for the last two days hadbeen too extreme to feel upset by any increase. He took Esperance tothe door of the Tower. 

"You were lovelier than ever before. "

He kissed her fingers devotedly. The young girl felt a tiny tear falllike a terrible weight on her hand. He lifted his head quickly, lookedfixedly at Esperance with a look of such goodness and faith, that shefelt suddenly guilty and bent her head. The Count shook handscordially with the philosopher. 

"Do not forget, " the elder man said to him, "that I want to have alittle talk with you; it is more than a wish, it is a duty. "

"I also have a serious duty to attend to, " replied the young Count. "Excuse me if I have to keep you waiting. "

CHAPTER XXVIII

Albert went immediately to his mother, who was taking tea with thePrincess. He embraced her with such tenderness that she was astonishedat his ardour. The Princess held out her hand. 

"Do not wait too long to realize your happiness, Albert. You know howall your friends will rejoice with you. "

He kissed her hand again, and went to join his two seconds at the gateof the kitchen garden. 

The crowd had all dispersed to catch the last train. 

The meeting at the "Three Roads" was for seven. They saw the Duke deCastel-Montjoie from a distance. He had had some difficulty in makinghis escape, having had to help his mother, the Duchess, with the lastfarewells. He bowed to the Count and led the way by a little door tothe inn stable. He was carrying two sets of swords, done up in twocases of green cloth. 

The Duke and his seconds were already there. Only the Doctor had notarrived. Morlay-La-Branche and Albert bowed to each other and gotready. 

The little bowers, where the _habitues_ of the inn often atetheir midday meals, served them as dressing-rooms. The Doctor arrivedout of breath, with the information that he had not been able to get a_confrere_ and would have to serve both sides. The umpire, incompany with the seconds, chose an alley of proper dimensions. 

The adversaries were placed opposite, sword in hand. The Duke deCastel-Montjoie touched the points of their swords and said, "Go!"

The conditions of the duel were very strict. The first round shouldlast three minutes, should neither of the adversaries be touched. 

"Halt!" cried the Duke de Castel-Montjoie. 

One minute was allowed them to breathe. 

"Go, " said the umpire, again joining the sword tips. 

This time Albert made a furious drive against the Duke. There was amoment of suspense. The Duke did not give way. His arm shot out andthe unfortunate Count turned completely round and fell. Charles deMorlay's sword had pierced beneath the right arm pit, entering thelung. The blood streamed from the wounded man's mouth. The Doctor andthe seconds carried him into the room which Jeanette had prepared. TheDuke, sorely moved, followed them. Albert saw him and held out a handwhich the Duke pressed gently, bending his head. The Count signed tothe seconds to withdraw. 

"I was wrong, Duke, " he murmured. "My love had blinded my wisdom withthe heavy mask of egoism. On the threshold of eternity the truth seemsclearer. Forgive me, De Morlay, as I forgive you. "

He choked. The Doctor came forward. The Duke, as pale as the dyingman, pressed that loyal hand for the last time, and withdrew. 

In her own room Esperance had just waked with an anguished cry. 

"What is the matter with you?"

"I . .. I . .. I do not know . .. A catastrophe . .. Where is my father?"

"In his room, and. .. . "

At that very moment Maurice knocked at the door, and before they hadtime to answer him, he entered. His face was distorted with grief. 

"A catastrophe, a catastrophe!" repeated Esperance, at sight of him. 

"Get up, put on a wrap, put something on your head, and come, comequickly! A carriage is waiting for us!"

"A catastrophe, a catastrophe! Albert? the Duke?. .. "

"Albert!" he answered brusquely. "Come quickly! He wants to see youbefore. .. . "

The words died in his throat. 

He helped his cousin and led her rapidly to the carriage. Esperancewas gasping with anguish. 

"Tell me, Maurice, tell me. "

But the young man could not answer. He knew only that Albert wasmortally wounded. He had been waiting a few paces from the Inn tosee the duellers come out. The Duke de Morlay-La-Branche andCastel-Montjoie appeared first, and as they were talking to theyoung man, the Marquis de Montagnac came out precipitately. 

"I beg you, " he said to Maurice, "to fetch the Count's fiancée. Hewants to see her before his mother knows. "

And Maurice had departed in hot haste. 

As soon as they reached the Inn, Esperance jumped to the ground. Jeanette, who had kept a constant watch, ran along ahead of her andwithout a word showed her the door of the room where Count Albert laydying. The Doctor stopped her. 

"Very gently, " he said. 

But Albert had felt the presence of his dearly loved. He raisedhimself a little, holding out his great arms to the young girl. 

"Come to me, my love, do not be afraid. I will never hold you again inthese arms that frighten you. Listen carefully. I have only a fewminutes to live! No one knows the real reason of my quarrel with theDuke. .. . You may have thought that it was about you. I swear to you, "he laid stress on the word, "I swear to you that it was nothing to dowith you!"

His glazing eyes cleared for an instant, illuminated by the beauty ofhis falsehood. 

"Marry the Duke, he is charming . .. He . .. He is loyal . .. But do notabandon my mother; she will have only you!"

Two red streams trickled from the corners of his mouth. Esperance onher knees with her hands crossed on the bed, watched the blood rundown on the face that had grown paler than the pillow. Her tearsblinded her, and she shook as with an ague. Albert ceased breathingfor an instant. The Doctor, who was watching closely from the end ofthe room, came near and gave him a dose of chlorate of calcium to stopthe hemorrhage; then at a sign from Albert, withdrew again. 

"Promise me, " said the young man, "that you will always keep thisnecklace!"

"Albert, don't die! I will love you! I do love you! Have pity! I willalways wear the necklace. You shall unfasten it every evening andclasp it every morning! Do not die! Do not die! I am your fiancée, to-morrow I will be your wife! You must life for your mother, for me!"

The door opened and the Countess, suddenly awakened, entered with theBaron van Berger and the Duke de Castel-Montjoie. 

"Mother, dear mother, forgive me. .. . I leave you Esperance, who willtake my place with you. Forgive the Duke de Morlay the pain he hascaused you. Our quarrel was so deep, we could only settle it by arms. It was I, I, who precipitated matters. The Duke acted like anhonourable gentleman. Oh! do not weep, mother, do not weep!"

He raised his hand painfully to wipe with trembling fingers the tearsburning the beautiful eyes that had already wept so much. 

The Chaplain from the Château entered the room, bearing the HolySacrament. He was accompanied by the Dowager Duchess, the Prince andPrincess of Bernecourt. A solemn hush quieted the sobs of the twowomen. The priest bent over the couch of the dying man. The Countsummoned all his strength to receive the extreme unction, then, transfigured by his faith, he sat up, extending his arms. The twowomen threw themselves trembling into the open arms, which closed uponthem in the last struggle of life. They remained there, imprisoned, not knowing that the soul had fled. 

A terrible cry shook these souls sunk down in grief. Esperanceshrieked, "These arms, these arms, loosen these arms which arestrangling me . .. Deliver me, deliver me from these arms . .. I amchoking. .. . "

They had some difficulty in freeing her. Her pupils dilated by terror, she was hardly able to breathe. The Doctor did not disguise hisanxiety. 

"Save her, Doctor, " said the Countess Styvens, "save my daughter. Myson is now with God; he sees me, he waits for me, but I must obey hislast wish. "

They carried Esperance away unconscious, without tears, withoutmovement, almost without life. François, who had just arrived with hiswife, learned of the frightful tragedy and received in his arms thepoor unconscious cause of the drama. Mme. Darbois did not wish toleave her daughter, but the philosopher insisted, until she could notrefuse, that she should go back to the Countess Styvens. 

When the professor arrived at the Château he found the Duke de Morlayat the gate waiting for tidings. At sight of Esperance unconscious, her head fallen back on her father's breast, he jumped on the step ofthe victoria. 

"What more has happened?" he asked panting. 

"The Doctor will be here in a few minutes. He will tell you. .. . "

The carriage drove on to the Tower of Saint Genevieve. The Duke tookthe poor figure in his arms and carried her up to her room, followedby François Darbois, broken by sorrow. Genevieve was waitingfeverishly for the return of Maurice and Esperance. She showed theDuke where to lay Esperance. He stretched the slender creature on herbed. Her eyes were open, but she recognized no one. The rigidity ofher expression frightened the Duke, and he bent in terror to listen toher breathing. A faint burning breath touched his face. 

The Doctor declared that he could give no decision at that moment, andordered them to leave her to sleep. 

"She must not be left for a second, " he said. "Two people must watchso that she need never be left alone. "

The Duke kissed the limp little hand, and recoiled--his lips touchedher engagement ring. As he went out he met the Countess Styvens andhardly recognized her, so terribly was she changed. She stopped him. 

"Do not leave. I know from my son that it was he who provoked you. Thecause of your duel is a secret that I shall never seek to know. MayGod pardon my son and free you from all remorse. I go to my daughter, all I have left to love and protect. "

It was evident that the noble woman was making a great effort; thelast words of her son were still ringing in her brain. 

De Morlay knelt and watched the Countess disappear into the room. 

CHAPTER XXIX

The Doctor declared that evening that Esperance had congestion of thebrain, and that specialists who were sent for from Paris confirmed thediagnosis. The Dowager would not hear of having her taken away. TheTower of Saint Genevieve was put entirely at the Darbois's disposal. Twos sister were sent for, and Jeanette volunteered to do the heavywork. All the other servants were forbidden to approach the Tower. 

The Countess Styvens, accompanied by the Duke de Castel-Montjoie, thePrince and Princess de Bernecourt, and the Baron van Berger, had takenthe body of her son to be buried in the great family mausoleum whichshe had raised to the memory of her husband at her country place ofLacken. 

Maurice and Genevieve were greatly relieved when they learned that theCountess had not remained. In her crises of delirium Esperance talkedand talked. .. . 

"Albert, no, no, I do not love him . .. I love the Duke. .. . Yes, hesaved my life, but my father is going to tell him. .. . I cannot keepthis collar. .. . It is cold, cold, it strangles me, I am stifling. .. . Iam going to die. .. . Yes, Albert, you shall clasp the chain everymorning . .. And every evening. .. . No, my head is not too low, I can seethe beauty of Perseus better. He is coming?. .. He is coming to cut offthe long arms that hold me. .. . The blood, there, the blood runningslowly!. .. No, Albert, do not die, I will love you, the Duke willgo!. .. "

In spite of her trusting confidence, the poor mother must have come towonder and perhaps to understand. 

When Esperance regained consciousness the worst danger was over. OnlyGenevieve and Mlle. Frahender had heard the complete revelation. 

Jeanette knew too, but Genevieve, who understood that she was there tokeep the Duke informed, found her very docile and repentant and didnot send her away. The Countess, to whom they had sent a dailybulletin for three weeks, found that Esperance, if not cured, was atleast on the way to convalescence. She would still pass many hourswhen she failed to recognize people. A kind of coma took possession ofher every now and then and kept her for days together in a kind oflethargy. 

The season was getting late, and all the house guests had left. TheDowager Duchess did not wish to return to Paris, although her son, whohad become a deputy as she wished, invited her to come and stay withhim. The Prince de Bernecourt had had to once more take up his post, but his wife had stayed to keep her friend company, and because sheloved the "little Darbois, " as she called her. The Duke de Morlay wasvisiting friends whose Château was about an hour's journey away. Hecame every day for news from the Duchess, and from his goddaughterJeanette. 

A month went by. The young girl, now convalescent, was strong enoughto be moved. 

"We will take her to Penhouet for a month, " said François Darbois'snote to the Countess, "and when she is quite cured we will send her toyou in Brussels. "

The Duke was in despair at the idea of hearing that Esperance was togo away. He complained to Maurice whom he saw every day, "Can I notsee Esperance?"

"Yes, but only for a few seconds, " said the young painter. "I believethat you will have to wait several months before you can renew yourlove. She is convalescent, but not cured. Here is a proposal for you:I am going to marry Mlle. Hardouin in two months. Come to our wedding. Your presence will seem quite natural, for you have treated me as afriend. I am very much attached to you and I am sure that my cousinwill be very happy with you when you are married. "

"But will she be well in two months?"

"The Doctor assures us that she will be quite herself, and it is byhis advice that we have set that date for our marriage. "

"Do you think Mlle. Hardouin would accept me as a witness?"

She will be delighted, and I thank you. Genevieve has no relationsexcept her elder sister, who brought her up. "

"I hope that this marriage will recall Esperance's promise to her. Meantime I shall go to Italy for about the two months. Will you see ifI may say good-bye to her?"

"I will go now. "

He was soon back again. 

"My cousin expects you. "

It was more than a month since the Duke had seen Esperance. He waspainfully shocked by the change in her pretty face. She looked hardlyreal. Her eyes were enormous. Genevieve and Mlle. Frahender were withher. 

"Here is the Duke de Morlay-La-Branche who has come to say good-bye toyou. "

Esperance turned her eyes towards the Duke. 

"It is a long time since I have seen you, " she said simply. 

And her voice sounded like the tone of a distant harp. 

"You have been very ill!"

"I have been very ill, I believe, but I cannot remember very well. Ifeel as if I had had heavy blows in my brain; sometimes I heardreadful calls and then everything is quiet again. And then sometimesI see a piece of a picture, no beginning, no end, sometimes horrible, sometimes lovely. Why, now I remember, " she spoke gently with acharming smile, "that you are part of all my visions, but I do notknow any more how, or why. .. . And Albert, where is he? Why does he notcome? He must come and undo the collar. .. . Ah! my God, my God, I amwandering you see, nothing is clear yet. "

She raised her arms. 

"My God, my God, have pity on me or take me at once. I do not want tolose my mind!"

She took the Duke's hand. 

"Say you are not sorry that you loved me?"

"I love you always!"

She clapped her hands with a silvery laugh, "Genevieve, Genevieve, heloves me still. "

And she hid her head on the young girl's arm. Maurice led the Dukeaway, overcome. He looked questioningly at the painter. 

"No, she will not be light-headed long, the Doctors all agree aboutthat, but her memory will have to come back by degrees a little at atime. She recognized you. She remembered her love and yours. That is agreat step. Her youth, her love, and time will be, I believe, certainrestorers. "

The Duke left soon after they had taken Esperance away. 

In Belgium the Countess had prepared for her beloved daughter. Thisbeautiful woman of forty, so charming, so handsome in her mauvemourning, had already become an old woman whose movements were everslow and sad. Her back was bent, from constantly kneeling beside herson's grave. Her black clothes reflected the deeper gloom of herexpression. And to those who had seen her a few months before, she wasalmost unrecognizable. 

Poor little Esperance regained her health very slowly. Her mind seemedentirely clear only on one subject, the theatre. Little by little sheremembered everything connected with her art. She repeated withGenevieve and Jean Perliez the scenes they had given at theCompetition. She worked hard on Musset's _On ne badine pas avecl'amour_; then busied herself with preparations for her friend'smarriage. She did not know that the Duke was to be a witness. 

"But, " she would often object, "you must have two witnesses, and youhave only one. "

"I have two, " said Genevieve, "but you must guess the name of thesecond. "

CHAPTER XXX

The wedding, solemnized in the little church of Sauzen, atBelle-Isle-en-Mer, was very private. Maurice had for witnesseshis uncle, François Darbois, and the Marquis de Montagnac, withwhom he had become great friends. Doctor Potain and the Duke deMorlay-La-Branche were witnesses for Genevieve. The Dowager Duchessand the Princess de Bernecourt were present. The Countess Styvenshad been ill for a month and could not leave Brussels. She sent amagnificent present of diamonds and pearls to Genevieve, who wasfilled with joy. The Duchess gave the young bride a splendid silverservice, and the Princess brought with her some beautiful lace. Genevieve had attached herself very strongly to the first of thesesweet women, and Maurice had made a conquest of the Princess bypainting her an admirable portrait. 

The sight of the Duke made the invalid exuberant with joy. Sheconstantly forgot her duties as maid of honour to draw near the lovedbeing. 

Doctor Potain watched her closely, and made a thorough examination. Heknew nothing of her love for the Duke, but when the latter questionedhim about her health, he said, "There is only one chance of restoringher health. She must go back on the stage. "

The Duke jumped. "Impossible!" he said. 

"Why impossible? Her fiancé is dead. "

The Duke spoke to the man of science. "Listen to me, Doctor, I ampassionately in love with this girl who loved me, but only remembersthat at intervals. .. . I cannot, indeed. .. . "

"Approve of her going on the stage? Urge her yourself, and you willsave her. When she is cured if she loves you, as you believe, she willleave everything to follow you; but now neurasthenia or madness awaither. She must be roused to work outside herself. Do as I tell you andyou will invite me to your wedding. "

The Duke went straight to find François Darbois. Maurice would haveretired. "No, " said the Duke to him, "I want you to stay, " and he toldthem word for word what the Doctor had said. 

"Well, what do you think?" François Darbois asked him. 

"I think that the most important thing in all the world is to saveher! I will wait. .. . "

François pressed his hand, and there was taken between these two men, who were so different in every way, a silent pledge that both weredetermined to keep at all costs. 

From that instant each one strained every nerve to revive in Esperanceher dearest desire. 

Several days after this visit, Esperance received a letter from theComedie-Française, asking her to come to the office. She turned pink. Her lovely forehead brightened for the first time in many months. Shehanded the letter to her father, who knew what it contained, and hadbeen watching his child's surprise very closely. 

"We must go back to Paris, father, I feel entirely well. "

"Good, Mademoiselle, we will obey your orders, " he said tenderly. 

She kissed her father as she used to do, and began to tease him alittle. 

"How nice it is to have such an agreeable papa! You have plenty ofcause to be severe, for I give you endless trouble. "

"So you are to make your début at the Comedie-Française?"

"My God!" said the young girl, starting up, "that might cost you yourelection!"

François Darbois began to laugh, for his joy returned to him when hisdaughter's memory came back to her. 

"Leave my election alone. They won't even nominate me, and I shall notworry. "

Mme. Darbois came in and François pretended to disclose the news toher. She assumed surprise. To hide her emotion, she took her daughterin a long embrace. 

Maurice had taken his young wife to Italy, to show her in its mostharmonious setting the most beautiful aspirations of art towards theideal. The Duke de Morlay travelled there with them, adoring Italy asdoes every devotee of art. There was not a corner of this rare countrythat he did not know. 

The sojourn of the young couple in Italy was pure enchantment. Mauricewas constantly surprised by the intellectual strength of hiscompanion. Like most artists he had an indulgent scorn for what somany call and think the worldly class. When he originally met the Dukehe had recognized his cultivation, and found that his eclecticism wasexact, profound, and not the superficial veneer he had at firstsupposed. He realized that men of the world do not vaunt theirknowledge, though it is often far deeper than that of certain artistswho never go below the depths of but one art: their own. 

Almost every day Maurice received a letter or telegram giving him newsof his cousin. The advice of Doctor Potain seemed to be justifyingitself. Every day Esperance began to recover her health and spirits. She was rehearsing at the Comedie, and her début in _On ne badinepas avec l'amour_ was announced for the next month. 

The travellers had intended to spend another ten days in Italy. But aletter to Genevieve alarmed them. She read it aloud. 

"My darling, I am just now the happiest girl in the world. Firstbecause my dear cousin is seeing so many beautiful things that shinethrough her letters and show her so enchanted with life that I feelthe stimulus myself, and long to live to go myself to breathe thedivine air of Italy, and admire the masterpieces there. Tell the Dukede Morlay that no day passes without my thoughts flying to him. Onlyone thing worries me. I can confide it to you, Genevieve, you who areso perfectly happy. Why does the theatre draw me so that I am willingto sacrifice for it even those I love? I see the Countess Styvensevery day. She seems a light ready to flicker out. Sometimes she looksat me as if she saw me far, very far away, and murmurs, 'Poor littlething, it is not her fault!' Then I shiver. What is not my fault?Albert's death. Dear Albert, who frightened me so much sometimes, thatI felt my teeth chattering! Do you know how he died? Nobody seems toknow! Genevieve dear, the pearl collar strangles me sometimes. Ipromised not to take it off, but I must take it off to play'_Camille_' in Musset's play. Mustn't I? She cannot wear pearlsat the convent? When I promised that, I did not expect ever to appearon the stage any more; but now! Besides, when I am on the stage I amnot myself at all. Esperance stays behind in the dressing-room and'_Camille_' comes forth. Then the collar? Ask the Duke, withouttelling him that I asked you, what I should do. This collar seems tome such a heavy chain, so heavy and sometimes so cold. I must stopthis letter, for you see the confusion is coming back again. I am alittle frightened! I must be trembling, does it not show in mywriting? It is little Mademoiselle's pen. I embrace you with all thestrength of my joy in your happiness. --Esperance. "

The writing changed. 

"I must make Esperance stop. She has been wandering again as shewrites. Her pulse is very quick. I must tell her father. _Aurevoir, _ dear girl, and come back soon; for you are the brightnessand peace she longs for. My regards to your husband. --EleanoreFrahender. "

This letter made Maurice, his wife and the Duke very anxious. 

"She must in some way be prevented from seeing the Countess Styvens, "said Genevieve, "but how are we to manage that?"

They decided to shorten their stay in Italy by five days. 

Esperance was to appear on the twentieth of December, about fifteendays after her letter reached them. All the elegant world of Paris, artistic, sensation-hunting, was waiting with delight for theappearance of the little heroine, the idol of the public. CountStyvens's death in a duel, slain by a well-known admirer of Esperance, had caused a great deal of ink to be spilled. But the devotion of theCountess towards the girl who would have been her daughter, thedenials of the witnesses to the most intimate friends, asking if . .. Really . .. Between ourselves . .. Was not there something? . .. Deceivedthe most suspicious. All these "fors" and "againsts" had kindled thecuriosity of the public, and the general sympathy was strongly infavour of the unconscious cause of the great modern mystery. Thenotice, announcing the first appearance of Esperance Darbois in _Onne badine pas avec l'amour_ drew an enormous crowd. The house wasentirely sold out several days in advance. Many who could not getadmission waited outside the theatre to get news during the intervals. The corridors were full of French and foreign reporters. 

Behind the scenes Esperance stood looking at herself in the mirror. Itwas almost time for the curtain to go up. Dressed in the convent robe, the strings of pearls was still about her neck. Should she unclasp it, should she not? If they went with her on the stage would she not bebetraying her art; would they not clutch and strangle her, strangle"_Camille_, " until Esperance had to come back in her place? Andif she cast it aside, her loyalty, her promise? Must she wear fettersto keep faith? Oh, Albert, Albert! Oh, these dark shadows, thesegroping dark confusions where she so often strayed. Where was rest? Orpeace? And joy, the joy of the theatre, would that, too, be takenaway? She swayed a little and longed with all her strength for a forcenot her own to enter in. She was too weak to fight against her ownDestiny. 

She found it. A hint of it came first in the scent of gardeniaflowers, sweet and strong and penetrating, compelling and agreeable tothe senses. Then the Duke's strong arms were about her, and she sankgladly back as if she were falling into a flood of light. 

But his swift words brought her back. 

"Esperance, my darling, we have no time to lose. Come with me. TheCountess Styvens is dying. She would not send for you, she would notspoil your triumph. But she can absolve you. She can loose the pearls. You can remember the other request Albert made you then, his dyingwish, my living one. Come with me, be her daughter to the last, andthen, my love, to Italy, where we will find you health and strength, and give you new life for your future as my wife. "

THE END